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https://survive | S.JY
serial killer!jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: please read them and do not engage if you are uncomfy!! smut (mdni), gore, murder, character death, lots of descriptions of saw like traps (mutilation and body gore), blood (ofc), guns, blackmail, unprotected sex, gunplay, petnames (baby), multiple orgasms, weirdly fluffy at the end, anything else lmk bc i guarantee i've missed smthn. w.c: 33.7k synopsis: you're trapped in a room with four other people, and there is only one guarenteed survivor. will it be you? ft. characters: jaehyun (nct), sunoo (en-), heeseung (en-), dayoung (wjsn). a/n: hi! welcome to my halloween fic that i have scrapped and rewritten 4 times lmaoo. please read the warnings and do not engage with this post if any of the above makes you uncomfy, pls put your comfort first!! i hate how this turned out and i love it all the same. it is not my usual style since i write fluffy fanfics about soulmates at least 80% of the time so if it's shit, i am so sorry! please enjoy if you do decide to read, and i hope your fave survives!
Your eyes flutter open slowly and the moment they do, a stabbing pain splits through your skull, sending your senses reeling. The world around you feels heavy, like a storm just crashed through your body and jumbled your insides. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel a strange, warm trickling sensation on your face.
Instinctively, you lift a trembling hand to your forehead, fingers brushing against a slick wetness and the coppery tang of blood hangs in the air. When you pull your hand away, the sight of thick crimson streaks running across your palm makes your stomach churn, but you feel the need to explore the source, touching the tender gash on your scalp.
“Help! We’re trapped in here!” A girl’s voice, high-pitched and filled with terror and desperation rings through the chaos. Her words stab through your clouded mind, pushing you to focus and look beyond the pain.
You force yourself to take in your surroundings. The floor beneath you is cold, hard concrete that chills your skin through your clothes. The room is wide, but the walls stretch up tall, covered in grimy, cracked tiles. Red stains mar the surfaces, some splattered haphazardly across the tiles, others pooled and dried in dark streaks. It's everywhere, like the aftermath of something disastrous.
Your gaze lifts, drawn upwards towards the ceiling. Industrial scaffolding crisscrosses high above, its rusted metal beams looming. The sight sparks a flicker of recognition - a warehouse? A factory? The place feels abandoned, yet recent, like it’s still haunted by the last horror that just unfolded.
The girl’s voice echoes again, frantic, tearing your thoughts back to the present.
Blinking hard, you try to clear the dizziness that still lingers, your breath shaky as you sit up, the pounding in your head dulls a little, but the fear remains.
Five people, including you, are in the room, all coming to grips with the nightmare you’ve all woken up in. Each person reacts differently, the tension thickening with every breath and realisation of the surroundings.
To your right, there’s a boy who looks barely out of his teens, maybe 20, 21. His blonde hair is tousled, layers falling over a set of delicate, pretty features. His dark eyes are wide as he tries to make sense of it all but failing to grasp the reality of the situation. He wears a bright, eye-catching fit - a pink hoodie with characters on it…Sanrio maybe? It’s hard to tell from the glaze in your eye. But either way, he looks so out of place against the grim backdrop. His hands are shaking slightly as they rest on his knees, his innocence clashing with the horror around him.
Opposite him stands another man, older by a few years, maybe mid-twenties, with a hardened expression that tells a different story. His dark eyes are calculating, his face carved with indifference, a nonchalant coldness to his posture. He’s dressed simply in a faded black shirt and worn jeans, but there’s something sharp about him, as though he’s accustomed to violence or pain. Unlike the boy, this man seems almost detached, unaffected by it all.
Weird…
On the far side of the room is the girl who brought you to attention, pulling you from your unconscious state. She’s banging on the large metal door, her fists bruised and bloodied from her frantic efforts. Her voice trembles as she yells, but now she turns around, her brown eyes wide with fear. Her long, tangled hair hangs around her face, and she’s covered in dirt and what looks like splashes of dried blood on her clothes - a simple white shirt and jeans that are torn at the knees.
One more boy sits close to you, clearly still feeling the effects of whatever beating he endured. His head is placed firmly in his hands as he tries to bring himself around. From what you can see, he’s around ages with you, youthful and pretty, with a sharp jawline and pretty lips. His clothes are ripped, probably struggling with whoever put him here.
The fifth person is you, but the growing dread makes you feel distant from your own body. You clear your throat, the air dry and sharp, your voice hoarse as it escapes. "W-what’s going on?" you ask, timidly, the words coming out cracked and raspy.
“We’re in a death box by the looks of it,” the older man says, his voice calm.
“What do you mean?” The colourful boy asks, his voice shaky, eyes darting around the room, looking for answers. He’s so desperate he looks to the older man hoping for an explanation or reassurance, but there’s none to be found in those dark eyes.
“I mean, look around,” the man continues, standing slowly, unfolding his tall frame. “There’s blood and piss everywhere. You can literally still smell death in the room.” He says it without flinching, his eyes scanning the bloodstained walls with no reaction, like the gore is no more unsettling than a stain he can easily get out with some Vanish.
“And how would you know what death smells like, huh?” the girl snaps, spinning away from the door with her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She’s still trembling, but now her fear has turned into a raging accusation, her fists clenched at her sides. “Are you the one that put us here?”
The bright boy, caught between the man’s cold indifference and the girl’s rising panic, shifts uncomfortably, his bright eyes flickering from one person to the next. You can feel his uncertainty, his confusion, and deep down, you share it.
The man, however, remains unbothered. He stares at the girl with a bored expression, clearly not agreeing with her that the accusation requires a response. There’s not a lot to read on his face; you can’t work out if the girl has clocked him perfectly or if she’s clutching at straws to find reasoning.
"Answer me!" she demands, her voice trembling with fury. "Are you the one that did this to us?"
“You think I put us all in here?” he replies, his tone dripping with disinterest, the accusation itself beneath him. “If I had, do you really think I’d be stuck in this shithole, bruised and battered, and having to deal with you?”
The girl bristles, taking another step towards him, a vein slowly making its presence known on her forehead. "You’re too calm-"
"And you're too loud," he cuts her off and his voice is sharp now, clearly over her dramatics. "Screaming at me isn’t going to open that fucking door."
Tension rises, the air thick with suspicion and apprehension. The boy with the blonde hair flinches at the harshness in the older man, not accustomed to raised voices. "Stop it," he pleads, his voice soft, wavering, oh so gentle. "We shouldn’t fight. We need to figure out what’s happening..."
"Figure out what?" the girl snaps, turning her frustration toward him. "We’re trapped in here like animals!"
Before anyone else can respond, a low mechanical hum interrupts the argument. You glance around, searching for the source, and then, without warning, the tile wall opposite you flickers to life. Everyone falls silent, the room filling with the eerie glow of the screen.
The image shows a boy in his early twenties standing before the camera. His face is smooth and untroubled, with dark brown hair, thick-rimmed glasses that frame his face perfectly, and a pretty nose to match. There’s no mask, no attempt to hide his identity, and his eyes twinkle with an unsettling glee, a bright grin stretching across his lips, completely at odds with the horror of the room.
"Hi!" he chirps, waving at the camera. “You’re probably a little confused, but you shouldn’t be. You all asked to be here." His voice is light and playful. To be fair, it matches his features, but you already know that what he presents isn’t the case.
"Asked to be here?" the younger boy mutters in an innocent pout, resembling a cute penguin.
The boy on the screen just continues smiling, oblivious or indifferent to the growing dread in your hearts. "Dayoung, Jaehyun, Sunoo, Heeseung and Y/N," he says, rattling off your names like he’s reading from a class roll, and he lets each name hang in the air for a moment, allowing you all to figure out who is who by the reactions. "You all answered my ad, y’know, the ones on the dark web?"
The blonde boy - Sunoo - gasps softly, his eyes wide with sudden recognition. The others exchange uneasy glances, knowing they can’t deny his claims. The older man - Jaehyun - folds his arms and glares at the screen with narrowed eyes, his expression hard and calculating.
"You all wanted me to save you, to help you out," the boy on the screen continues, waving his hand around as though explaining something trivial, like when you have to explain a new TikTok trend or why Tesco is the best supermarket in the UK. "Or rather…to help me out."
Dayoung - you presume, being the only other girl in the room - asks, her voice low and filled with bitterness. "What the hell is he talking about?"
Your kidnapper leans in closer to the camera, his grin never faltering. “I asked for a helper. Someone who wouldn’t mind getting their hands dirty. And you guys were the most promising ones who responded.”
Your stomach drops as the full meaning of his words begins to settle. This isn’t a random abduction. You willingly put yourself here.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the boy chuckles softly. “You’re thinking, ‘What did I get myself into?’ Well, let me tell you - you’re in for some fun.” The animation in his body is cartoon-like, soft and playful. He’s finding pure, unfiltered joy in whatever this is, and you don’t know whether he is reading the room wrong or simply fucking psychotic.
"No...I didn’t...I never agreed to this..." Sunoo mutters, his voice shaking.
On the other hand, Dayoung is shaking with anger once again, her face turning red. "This is a sick joke!"
But the boy on the screen doesn’t seem to care about the protests. He continues on, breezily. “You see...I have a bit of a hobby.” His grin widens, and there’s a disturbing glint in his eyes. “I like to murder people. But recently, it’s been getting...a little overwhelming. Too many bodies, too much cleanup. My hands can only do so much, y’know?” He sighs in inconvenience, clearly all the murdering is taking its toll on the boy.
The brooding older man’s jaw tightens, his eyes dark as the boy continues his twisted monologue - you can’t help but eye the man suspiciously, suddenly curious as to why he is here.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fun and all,” the boy says with a shrug, “but even I can’t do it all by myself. So I figured - why not get some help? That’s where you come in.” He gestures toward the camera, shooting comical finger guns at you all, but absolutely nothing is funny.
“No…no, this isn’t happening,” Dayoung steps back defiantly, her body subconsciously seeking space from the boy despite his absence in the room. You can tell that she never in a million years thought that this was what she was offering help for.
In her case, all she wanted was some cash, a new job and get out of her small town. Someone suggested that the dark web is where all the highest-paying jobs are, they aren’t pretty jobs, but they are jobs. She just never expected this to happen; call it naivety. Could she clean up the blood and ask no questions? For sure. Can she help a murderer commit the crimes? Not so sure.
The murderer on the screen lets out a soft laugh, mocking. “Oh, but it is. You all wanted an escape, right? A way out of whatever hell your life was? Well, this is it. I’m giving you a purpose. A new path. You’re here to help me with my work.”
The room is dead silent now, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone. The realisation hits everyone at once: you didn’t stumble into this nightmare. You walked right into it.
The boy claps his hands together, his grin acting as his most prominent feature, looking like he is about to unlease the punchline to a joke only he finds funny. And to be fair, he is. “Alright, now that we’re all caught up - let’s talk about what happens next.”
You can feel the weight of his words crushing you like a lead blanket. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, each thud reverberating in your ears as frisson slowly wraps its icy fingers around your throat. The others are still frozen, processing the horrifying reality of the situation. You can see it in their eyes - the slow dawning of horror.
Jaehyun is still standing stoically in the corner, his cold facade cracking ever so slightly. His dark eyes flicker toward the others, calculating, assessing.
Sunoo, is shaking, his face drained of colour. He’s clutching his knees, eyes wide, breath coming in shallow gasps. He looks so young, so fragile; he’s barely holding it together.
Dayoung’s lips tremble, but her eyes burn with an inner fire, a desperation to escape this madness, to fight her way out if she has to. But there’s a fear in her, too - a deep, raw terror that seeps into the edges of her defiance.
The boy next to you, Heeseung, just has his head down, not looking up to even peep at what his new potential boss could look like. He’s quiet, distant, and not mentally in the room with you all even if he is physically.
“I know, I know,” the kidnapper says, as if reading your thoughts. “You’re thinking, ‘This can’t be real, right? There’s no way this psycho actually expects us to help him.’” He chuckles, a soft, almost boyish sound, but there’s an edge of malice behind it. You wonder how many victims heard that laugh as the last noise before they were brutally murdered. “But here’s the thing - it’s very real. And I’m about to give you the chance of a lifetime.”
Jaehyun narrows his eyes, his arms crossed, watching the boy on the screen with a calculating expression. “What kind of chance?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
The boy’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Glad you asked!” He stands up straighter, chest protruding proudly. “See, you’re all here because you needed a way out of your pathetic lives. Don’t try to deny it - you wouldn’t have answered my ad if you didn’t. Each of you has your own personal hell, something that you want to escape or gain. And that’s what I’m offering you - a way out. A new life.”
You swallow hard, the room feeling smaller, the air tighter. His words stir something in you, a dark truth you don’t want to acknowledge. You were desperate, looking for something…that much is true.
“But,” the boy continues, his voice dropping to a soft, almost conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t just let anyone into my little...operation. No, no. You have to earn your place.”
The atmosphere in the room shifts, a heavy tension filling the space. No one speaks, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your racing hearts and the quiet hum of the projection.
“So here’s how it works,” the boy says, pacing in front of the camera, gesturing animatedly with his hands. “There are a series of tests in place. You can take a turn each, I don’t care what order, that’s up to you guys. You just need to survive. Survive the test, and you win. Fail, and…” he whistles, letting your imaginations run with conclusions of your own, his smile turning into something darker. “Well, you don’t want to fail.”
Dayoung steps forward, her face twisted in disbelief. “You want us to play some sick game for you? Is that it?” Her voice trembles, the earlier bravado she showcased cracking under the weight of the horror she’s facing. And who can blame her?
The boy tilts his head, a patronising expression plastered on his face. “It’s not a game,” he says softly, almost sweetly. “It’s a job interview. If you pass, you get to work for me. You get to leave behind whatever miserable life you were living before. Isn’t that what you want?”
Sunoo shakes his head, his voice weak, barely a whisper. “I didn’t want this...I didn’t know...”
“Oh, but you did know, Sunoo. You knew something dark was waiting on the other side of that ad. But you still clicked, didn’t you?” His tone is mocking, almost sing-song. “You all did. If you guys wanted a normal job, you would have gone on Indeed, not the dark web.”
No one moves, no one breathes. It’s hard to grasp that the lunatic is actually right, and it’s the bitterest pill to swallow.
“This is insane,” Dayoung whispers in disbelief. Sunoo’s wide eyes fill with tears, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Heeseung, a quiet figure at the back of the room until now, looks away, his face pale, as if retreating inward, trying to block out the horror unfolding around him. Jaehyun stands still, his eyes narrowing as though calculating his next move. But even he, with his calm facade, looks shaken.
The boy on the screen throws his head back and laughs, the sound bright and carefree yet insanely manic. It echoes unnervingly in the cold, bloodstained room, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. His smile stretches wider, his eyes twinkling with that same psychotic glee.
"Don’t look so dramatic about it!" he says, waving a dismissive hand at the camera. "It’s fun, I promise." No one dares speak, as if the wrong word will trigger whatever madness this boy has planned for you. The boy in the video sighs. "Now, I would get out of your scared little minds and focus if I were you. Seriously, you’re all acting like this is the worst thing in the world." He tilts his head, his smile softening, though it’s far from comforting. "It’s not. I’m giving you a chance. This could be the best thing that ever happens to you."
He pauses, letting the eerie silence settle in. You can hear the sound of your own shallow breaths, the frantic beat of your heart pounding in your ears. His feigned innocent smile never falters even within the quiet.
Dayoung steps forward, her voice filled with fury. “You’re insane. We never wanted this!” One thing you’re learning about Dayoung in this predicament; she’s loud and unabashedly, stupidly brave
The boy just chuckles again, his laugh light and almost boyish, which only makes it more unnerving. "Oh, you’ll see soon enough how much you’ll want this. But if I were you, I’d stop worrying so much about me and focus on yourselves."
The air feels heavier now, as though the walls themselves are caving inward. You feel a growing…’something’ in your gut, a sinking realisation that this isn’t just a game. This is a dream you might not wake from.
Clapping his hands together again, your captor startles you from your thoughts. “Now, let’s get to the fun part!” His energy is high, you can see how his face is lit up with glee, a clear juxtaposition to the rest of you. "The first test is coming up."
Your blood runs cold. "Test?" you murmur under your breath, feeling the weight of the word crash over you like a tidal wave.
The boy’s smile widens as he sees your reaction. “That’s right. The first of many. But don’t worry! Like I said, it’s fun. Just think of it as...an initiation. Survive this, and you’re one step closer to working with me. One step closer to getting out of this room, out of whatever sad little life you were living before.”
Jaehyun’s fists clench at his sides, his knuckles white as the pretty murderer’s words strike a nerve in his chest, but his face remains a mask of control. "What’s the test?" he asks through gritted teeth.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” His eyes gleam with twisted excitement. "I’m Jaeyun by the way. It’s nice to properly meet you all! Good luck with the interview; I’m rooting for you to survive.”
The video flickers and shuts off, the tiled wall goes back to a blank surface and the humming of the projector stops, leaving behind only the sound of your ragged breathing, the quiet gasps of terror from the others.
The shock of Jaeyun’s words hangs in the air, thick and oppressive. Sunoo lets out a shaky sob, covering his face with his hands, his body trembling. Dayoung is pacing now, her eyes darting toward the door, fists still clenched as if ready to punch her way out.
Jaehyun steps forward, his expression hard, a calculating look in his eyes. “He’s playing with us,” he mutters, his voice low but filled with barely restrained fury. “We need to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” Dayoung snaps, her voice breaking. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”
No one has an answer. The silence stretches until you feel like the room is turning into that one hallway in willy wonka. Your heart pounds, fear gnawing at the edges of your sanity. The test is coming. The only question is, will you survive?
_____
Not one of you has uttered a word in the past 30 minutes, each brain focusing on its own fears. The room has fallen into a suffocating silence, the only sound breaking through is Sunoo's quiet, shaky sobs. His soft cries echo in the dim space, bouncing off the walls, making the stillness feel even more unbearable. His breath hitches every now and then, little gasps of panic, his shoulders quivering as he tried, and failed, to keep it together. His bright hoodie, once a symbol of his sunny disposition, now seems like a cruel joke, a beacon of misplaced hope in the grim reality.
You make your way over to him, the concrete floor cold beneath your feet giving you a subtle chill biting at your skin. Kneeling down beside him, you gently place a hand on his back, feeling the tremor of fear that possesses his body. You have no words to offer; nothing you could say would fix this. Instead,you flash him a small, strained smile, trying to convey comfort, even if you don’t believe it yourself.
With your thumb, you gently wipe away the tears collecting under his eyes but the action feels hollow, not filled with the intent you need it to. You know it won’t stop his panic, but in a place as shit as this, sometimes just knowing someone’s there is enough.
Sunoo sniffles, looking up at you with wide, terrified eyes. His lips quiver, but he manages a weak nod, the faintest flicker of relief crossing his face. All he needs to feel like he isn’t alone in this hell.
Meanwhile, Heeseung is finally up, pacing the room. His eyes dart around, taking in every corner, every inch of the walls, looking for something, anything, that might be an escape. His movements are stiff, purposeful, his mind clearly racing.
He didn’t think this was real when he applied. He’s navigated the dark web more times than he could count, seen the fake ads, the scams. Every twisted job post was always a hoax, a trap set by someone looking to get a rise out of thrill-seekers. But this…This wasn’t some elaborate prank. This was real. And as much as he tries to keep a cool head, he isn’t truly prepared for any of this. Who actually would be?
Suddenly, a loud metallic creak cuts through the silence, making everyone flinch. You all turn as a hatch in the wall slowly slides open, the rusted metal scraping against the frame causing the irritating grating in your ears. A cardboard box is thrown through the abyss, it’s small but deliberate, a grotesque gift dropped at your feet. You’ve always liked presents, this one…maybe not so much.
Jaehyun steps forward first, his movements deliberate yet measured, his eyes narrowing as he approaches the suspicious box. With unnerved hands, he opens it despite Dayoung’s cries to leave it alone. Once he rips the flaps open, his face flashes with confusion.
“It’s a collar,” he informs, his voice carrying no emotion as he peers inside, leaning over just enough to pull the object out.
“Like a dog collar?” Dayoung asks tentatively. Her earlier fear has settled into cautious curiosity.
“More like a Battle Royale collar,” you say quietly, stepping up beside Jaehyun. The moment you see it in his hand, your stomach leaps. The worn leather strap is attached to a thick, cold-looking metal device with intricate wiring running along the surface. A faint red light flickers within the contraption. The collar isn’t for show and certainly won't appear on the next Prada F/W season - it’s much more dangerous than a fashion statement.
Your mind races back to all the horror movies you’ve devoured over the years - Saw, Hostel, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Even the obscure British slashers which somehow found purchase on Amazon Prime that for some reason feature Danielle Scott. You remember the collar from the Japanese cult classic - the way it sat ominously around the necks of the students, a grim countdown ticking away until their last moments. The sight of it here, in Jaehyun’s hands, sends a shiver down your spine, making the hairs on your arms stand on end, a thrill encroached in your blood.
Sunoo inches closer behind you, his footsteps tentative and quiet, afraid to make a sound. His wide, innocent eyes are filled with disbelief, his lips quivering as he stares at the collar in Jaehyun’s hand. He never planned on this being his fate. His new uni friends had dared him to answer an ad which screamed dodgy, saying he lived too cautiously, that he was too safe, too nice. They had called him boring, the good boy, the one who never stepped out of line. They wanted to see if he could do something reckless for once. So he clicked on the ad. This all started as a stupid fucking dare but now, standing here, he’s regretting every second of that decision.
Jaehyun pulls a small card from the box that had been hidden under the leather. His face hardens as he reads it aloud. “For your first task, one of you should put on the collar and sit in the iron chair at the back of the room. Strap yourselves in! It’s quiz night.” He tosses the card to the floor, his lips curling into a sneer and voice losing edge as annoyance seeps in.
The rest of you follow his gaze toward the back of the room, where a chair stands alone, bathed in the bask of an overhead light. It’s hidden in plain sight, none of you registering its existence or importance until this exact moment, which is crazy considering it’s completely unmissable. As you get closer, the details of the chair come into view. The seat is worn, darkened with age, and thick leather straps hang from the armrests, ready to bind whoever sits there. The straps are cracked and rough, but still functional, their purpose and past crimes clear. But it’s the strange contraption beside the chair that sends a wave of nausea through the room.
A twisted metal device sits on a pedestal to the left of the chair, resembling a skeletal hand. Each finger is a cold, metallic clamp, poised to cause irreversible damage. You’ve seen something like it before, it’s a trap. The kind that springs back when triggered, bending fingers until they break. You swallow hard, anticipation rising in your throat as your mind conjures up the image of bone splintering and flesh tearing.
Suddenly, a deafening screech fills the room, the sound of a tannoy system coming to life. The static drone crackles for a moment before a throat is cleared, and Jaeyun’s voice, upbeat and casual, cuts through the tension like a knife.
“Welcome to your first task, which I’ve cleverly named Quiz and Snap! A little fun game to get all your brains and bones working.”
“I hope his quizzing is better than his naming,” Jaehyun snorts, his face set in a grimace.
“I heard that!” Jaeyun’s voice whines through the speakers, an exaggerated pout in his tone. “Anyway, you’ll love this one. For this task, I need one brave volunteer to sit in my lovely antique chair, strap in, and place your hand in that cute little metal skeleton hand over there. See it?”
All eyes are on the device now, the sight of it sending a fresh wave of chills down your spine. There’s something wrong about it - something viscerally terrifying.
Jaeyun’s voice drops, the grin in his tone so palpable it makes your skin pop with goosebumps.“Once you’re all strapped in, I’ll start the quiz. Just five questions. Nothing too hard. Mostly about cleaning up blood, disposing of bodies...you know, simple stuff related to the job you’ve applied for. Easy, right?”
The way he says simple implies it will be anything but.
“What’s the catch?” Dayoung’s voice cuts through, her earlier anxiety now giving way to an edge of scepticism. “Why the hand thingy?”
“Inquisitive! Extra points for you!” Jaeyun giggles through the speaker, and you catch the faintest flicker of pride on Dayoung’s face despite the situation. You need to watch out for that. “Well, if you get a question wrong,” Jaeyun continues, his voice gleeful, “a little spring will snap, and…well, then so will your finger! It’ll bend it back and back and back until - pop - off it goes! So I wouldn’t make a habit of getting answers wrong.”
His grin is so clear in his voice that you can almost see it, hanging in the air like a sickly, invisible presence. You can feel it wrapping around you, tightening its grip on your chest.
Jaehyun lifts the collar, turning it in his hands, his expression a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. “And what’s the collar for?” His voice is steady, but you can sense the tension coiling behind his nonchalance.
“Oh, just a little accessory! Something to complete the look. Nothing to worry about, really. What you should be worrying about is which one of you is brave enough to try and pass my first test. And, of course, be in with a chance to become my sidekick. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”
Jaehyun’s eyes narrow, and before he can respond, you find yourself speaking, your voice softer than you intended. “What if...none of us want to do it?” It’s the first time you’ve spoken directly to Jaeyun, and the moment the words leave your lips, a prickly chill runs down your spine.
There’s a beat of silence, followed by a laugh from Jaeyun. “Well, pretty lady,” he says, his tone taking on a flirtatious but mocking tone, “I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question. But let’s just say, if none of you want to play, you’ll all be sleeping for a very, very long time...”
The threat is suffocating and the atmosphere shifts. The panic that had lay just upon the ocean bed of the situation now feels like a tidal wave, crashing over everyone. The room is thick with unspoken terror, a collective paralysis. Of course, being kidnapped and forced to attend an ‘interview’ doesn’t set everyone with great faith, but hearing that your life could end so blasé-like is what really sets the haunting tone in the space.
Sunoo’s sobs have quieted, but his wide, tear-streaked face looks between each of you, desperate for someone to step up and make this nightmare end. Dayoung’s hands twist nervously at the hem of her shirt, her earlier confidence giving way to hesitation. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but no words come out, only a sharp, shaky breath. Even Jaehyun, who had been so calm and composed, is frozen, his eyes darting between the chair and the collar still clutched in his hand.
Heeseung’s jaw is clenched, his fists balled tightly at his sides. He’s scanning the room again, probably still searching for an escape, but even he knows deep down that there’s no way out of this - not without playing Jaeyun’s twisted game.
You can almost feel the dread sinking in, seeping into your bones. The low hum of fear vibrates in the air, like a pressure building, ready to snap - no pun intended. No one moves. No one wants to be the first. The weight of the decision is suffocating, and you can see it in everyone’s faces - the growing realisation that if no one steps forward, the fate Jaeyun promised is waiting for you all.
“I’ll give you all two minutes to decide,” Jaeyun’s voice suddenly crackles through the speaker again, almost jovial, relishing in the tension. “But if none of you are in that seat when I come back...well…night-night.” He draws out the words, taunting, the sickly-sweet edge to his voice making your skin blister in unease.
The seconds tick by in oppressive silence. Everyone exchanges glances, the fear fairly obvious in the small, cramped space. No one wants to die, but no one wants to be the first to volunteer either. The weight of Jaeyun’s threat makes it insanely hard to breathe. It feels like the room itself is watching, waiting, pressing down on all of you, daring someone to make a move.
But who?
“Look, I-I can’t do it,” she says, her hands wringing together. Her face is like a ghost, her eyes wide and pleading as she looks around at each of you. “I’m not…I’m not strong enough for this. I barely made it through high school biology without fainting. The second that thing snaps, I’ll probably pass out, I’ll never make it.”
Her words filter through your ears but you find it hard to register them or find sympathy. Aren’t most people squeamish with blood? Hardly a solid excuse out of this.
Then again, do you have one better other than the fact that you simply don’t want to?
“I don’t think I can do it either…” Sunoo whispers, his voice trembling. “I-I’m not brave like the rest of you. I shouldn’t even be here. This was all a stupid dare - my friends, they…they told me to apply as a joke. They said I live too safely, that I never take risks. But this? This isn’t what I signed up for. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing…”
His hands tremble, his fingers twitching nervously as he shifts on his feet. Even the thought of being strapped into that chair terrifies him beyond words. His usual sunny demeanour is completely shattered, replaced with raw panic.
Jaehyun snorts, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, none of us want to do it, kid. But the fact is, we don’t have much of a choice, do we?” His voice is sharp, but there’s a tinge of bitterness in it. He exhales, running a hand through his hair before looking at the rest of you. “Look, I’m not putting myself in that chair. I’ll save myself for harder tasks, give you all a chance to do the simpler ones. God knows what this psycho has planned.”
His words are cold, but you can see the fear flickering in his eyes. He’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be.
“He is right, we need to be smart about this,” you mutter under your breath. “I get it. No one wants to do this. But if we don’t…we know what happens.”
Heeseung, who had been eerily quiet up until now, suddenly exhales sharply and the sound pulls everyone's attention to him. His arms are crossed and he’s been watching as the conversation spirals. But now it’s his turn to speak up.
“I watched How to Get Away with Murder,” Heeseung says unexpectedly, his tone eerily calm. “I mean, I can deal with a few broken fingers in the worst-case scenario, but that show taught me a lot.”
His tone is calm given the circumstances. He stands upright to fake confidence, his eyes scanning each of you with a sharp, assessing gaze. He can see and feel the apprehension in each of you. A TV show isn’t really the best means of knowing how a murderer actually works.
“Look,” he continues, “I don’t give a shit about being Jaeyun’s lackey. Fuck, there’s no way in hell I’m working for that psycho. But if this is what it takes to get out of here, then fine. It’s just a couple of fingers, right? I get this over with, I survive, and then I’ll figure out how to end this whole thing. We need everyone to survive each test at a shot of getting out of here. There is strength in numbers.”
Jaehyun glances at Heeseung, his eyes narrowing, though a flicker of respect passes through his gaze. “You’re serious?” he asks, disbelief threading ever so finely through his voice.
“Dead serious,” Heeseung replies, rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off the weight of what he’s about to do. “Someone has to go first. Might as well be me.”
He knows - he knows - that putting his hand in that device will hurt like hell, but he’s already rationalised it in his head. Broken fingers are temporary; death is permanent. And if this twisted test is the only way to survive long enough to escape, then fine, he'll take the pain. Heeseung's not the kind of guy to back down, not when there's a way forward, however brutal it might be.
You watch him, feeling a strange mixture of admiration and awe. Someone has to make the first move, or you’ll all be dead anyway. His determination brings a sliver of clarity, cutting through the terror gripping you.
Dayoung looks away, biting her lip, her eyes filling with guilt. “But...what if it’s worse than just broken fingers? What if-”
“I’ll handle it,” Heeseung cuts in, his voice sharper now, impatient. “We don’t have time for ‘what ifs.’” He looks toward the chair, and you can see the muscles in his jaw tense, his resolve hardening. “Two minutes. That’s all we’ve got. I’m not waiting around for this asshole to put us all to sleep.”
Without another word, you all watch Heeseung move toward the iron chair, his steps slow but deliberate; he’s walking a path already set in stone. The atmosphere shifts with each step he takes, growing heavier. It’s as if even the air is afraid to stir, afraid to acknowledge what’s about to happen.
Heeseung reaches the chair, his expression still calm, but you notice the subtle way his fingers quake as he reaches out to brush the metal skeleton that holds the fate of his fingers as he takes a seat.
The strange contraption sits gleaming menacingly under the faint light. It reminds you too much of something straight out of a twisted tale you love, the kind of device you’ve seen rip apart flesh and bone on screen. But now, it’s here, in front of you, real and ready to inflict its brutal punishment.
Jaehyun approaches Heeseung, collar still in hand. “You sure about this, man?” His voice is quieter now, cautious. His eyes flit between the chair and Heeseung’s face, secretly begging the boy to not back out now.
Heeseung turns his head slightly, casting Jaehyun a brief look. “No,” he says simply, but with a grim smirk. “But it’s better than sitting around waiting to die.” His voice is calm, like he’s resigned to the pain that’s about to come. He slides into the chair, exhaling slowly as the cold metal presses against his back.
You swallow hard, moving closer alongside Jaehyun and Dayoung, feeling the collective tension in the room ratchet up to a near-breaking point. There’s no way to delay this, no way to stop it. Heeseung’s steely determination is infectious, but it’s also terrifying.
Watching him buckle the leather straps across his chest and arms is surreal, like watching someone chain themselves to their own doom. Jaehyun reluctantly straps and locks the boys wrists to the armrests, and places the collar on his neck, giving him a knowing but sympathetic look as he tightens it, the leather representing more of a noose than a fashion statement.
This is his death sentence.
Dayoung’s voice cracks as she speaks, her words faltering. “Heeseung, if you...if you can’t handle it, we’ll -”
“I’ll handle it,” Heeseung interrupts, his voice absolute. He gives her a brief, almost reassuring glance before slipping his fingers into the grooves of the trap. The device clicks, locking his hand in place with a chilling finality. He breathes in sharply but stays composed, his eyes narrowing in focus.
The room feels like it’s holding its breath, just waiting to be disrupted like still water. Then, without warning, Jaeyun’s voice echoes through the speaker, loud and bright.
“Ah! Looks like we’ve got our first interviewee. Atta boy, Heeseung,” he coos mockingly. “Now don’t look so grim, everyone. I promise this is going to be fun. Just sit back and enjoy the show. Who knows, you might learn a thing or two about the fine art of murder.”
Jaehyun snorts, though the sound is hollow. “Yeah, can’t wait for the master class.”
“Oh, someone’s still got jokes! Cute!” Jaeyun chirps, his voice taking on a teasing lilt bit you can sense the threat behind it. “Now, Heeseung, since you’re the brave soul taking a seat, let me remind you how this works. Get the question right, and you’ll walk away with your fingers intact. Get it wrong, and...well, I think you get the idea. Snap, crackle, pop!”
A sickening sense of anguish washes over you. You glance at Heeseung, whose face is set like stone, determined, though you can see the slight twitch in his jaw as he braces for the worst.
“Let’s start with something simple, shall we? Question one: What chemical is most commonly used to dissolve organic matter, particularly bone?”
The question hits like a hammer against wood, reverberating through the room. You know the answer - you’ve seen enough crime documentaries in your life to know - but the gravity of the situation is causing your brain to short circuit. Finally, you understand contestants on The Chase and seeing them seize up in pressure makes more sense. Maybe you should stop slagging them off and start empathising.
Heeseung, however, is unflinching. He knows this.
“Hydrochloric acid,” Heeseung answers coolly, eyes fixed on the trap, just in the off chance that it’s going to snap anyway despite his own assurance that he’s correct.
For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, Jaeyun’s voice comes through again, delighted. “Ding ding ding! Looks like you have potential. Good for you, Heeseung! But don’t get too comfy. The next one’s gonna be trickier...”
Jaeyun’s voice continues to betray light and bouncy colours, like someone introducing a game show, but there’s a sinister undercurrent to it - a dissonance that twists your stomach into knots. That contrast of him compared to your surroundings is what makes it so much worse. If he were dark and brooding, if his voice dripped with malice, at least you’d know what to expect.
But this? This feels like a mockery of the fear gnawing at within you. The way he speaks - so upbeat, so casual - makes the horror of the situation seem unreal; you’re being taunted for even thinking this could be deadly serious.
“Oh! One little thing I forgot to mention, Heeseung, my guy.” There’s a pause between Jaeyun’s interuption, the silence stretching out ominously before he continues. “That collar you’re wearing? Yeah, if you get more questions wrong than right...let’s just say your fingers won’t be the only thing going capute, I’m afraid.”
The impact of his words hits like a Roman Reign’s Superman Punch. Heeseung’s face tightens, his composure faltering for the first time since this interview task began. The suffocating atmosphere in the room turns colder, sharper.
“W-what does he mean?” Sunoo whispers, his voice trembling. His wide eyes dart between the collar around Heeseung’s neck and the rest of you, desperately seeking answers. You notice that about him, how he seeks guidance like a lost lamb.
You daren't think how he will cope with his task.
Yet you don’t have time to think about Sunoo’s own woes as your own heart hammers in your chest, the tension skyrocketing. You try to keep your breathing steady, but Jaeyun’s words tighten around your body like a vice. The room feels impossibly small, the walls closing in, and suddenly, the bloodstains and grime seem more oppressive, more real.
Jaehyun’s brows furrow as he tries to process it all, but his voice comes out strained. “That thing…it’s rigged to kill him if he messes up too much. Fuck, this is insane.”
Heeseung’s gaze remains locked on the finger trap, but his breathing has quickened. His eyes flick briefly to the others, and for a moment, you can see the fear gnawing at him, breaking through that calm facade. But then his jaw sets again, and he straightens his back in the chair, forcing himself to maintain control. Heeseung doesn’t speak, but the flicker of doubt in his eyes tells you all that he understands the stakes now. More than just a few broken fingers are on the line - his life is teetering on a razor's edge.
Jaeyun’s voice hums back into the room, sensing the collective panic. “I wouldn’t worry too much, though,” he says, his tone still obnoxiously bright. “It’s just a little extra incentive, y’know? A bit of motivation to make sure you’re paying attention. Besides, Heeseung, you’re a smart guy! You already got the first one right. Piece of cake, really.”
“Piece of cake?” Jaehyun mutters darkly, his hands balled into fists. “This psycho’s enjoying this.”
“No shit,” you murmur in reply, yet your eyes locked on Heeseung’s collar. The device looks deceptively simple but now that you know what it’s capable of, it seems like something far worse.
Sunoo looks like he’s on the verge of tears again, his hands clasped tightly together, trembling and he holds them to his chest, clearly wishing on a prayer. “Heeseung, you...you can’t get any more wrong. You just can’t.”
Heeseung glances briefly at Sunoo, then at the rest of you. His voice is calm, but you can hear the strain behind it now. “I’ll try not to.”
“Try?” Dayoung echoes, her voice rising with panic. “This isn’t something you just try at, Heeseung. If you get it wrong...”
Heeseung cuts her off, his tone sharper now, trying to maintain control over the situation. “I know. I know what happens. But freaking out isn’t going to help. I just need to focus.” His voice dips lower, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you, if not more. You can see him getting agitated with Dayoung but you know his attitude isn’t directly pointed at her worry for him, but rather the situation he has put himself in.
The rest of you stand frozen, helpless as the seconds tick away. Time feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, and there’s nothing you can do but watch.
Heeseung's chest rises and falls a little faster now, the weight of the situation pressing down hard on him. His hands flex slightly in the grooves of the device as though testing for a way out, but there’s no escaping what’s coming.
Jaeyun’s voice returns, gleeful and dismissive of Heeseung’s pain. “Alright, folks, let’s get this party going again. Question two! Should be easy for a sharp guy like you, Heeseung.” He clears his throat, the grit of it grating your ears through the speakers.
“What’s the best way to get rid of bloodstains on concrete? Think fast!”
Heeseung’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes narrowing as he focuses. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head, calculating the right answer while also bracing for the trap to spring if he’s wrong. The rest of you hang on the edge, nerves frayed, hoping he can pull through. Because who the fuck would know this answer?
Swallowing thickly, the trapped boy can feel his adams apple collide with the metal death trap, which does nothing to clear his mind. Think, think, think. His chants of wishes are meaningless, there isn’t an episode or crime podcast that is coming to his mind that could save him.
He’s fucked.
“B-bleach,” Heeseung finally stutters out, unsure and unprepared for what the consequences are.
There’s a brief pause although it feels like an eternity, and then Jaeyun’s cheerful voice rings out again. “Ohhh, so close! It’s everyone’s go-to answer but bleach won’t get blood out of anything. You could have even said cow’s milk, but bleach is a basic bitch answer.”
Everyone stiffens. Heeseung’s jaw tightens in apprehension and his eyes flick nervously to the finger trap. There’s a moment where nothing happens, and everyone thinks that this is a hoax, that the psychotic boy is just fucking around with your minds.
But then it all happens so quickly.
Heeseung’s breath hitches as the first snap resounds through the room - a brutal, stomach-turning crack. His hand jerks, but it’s locked in place, trapped as the device rips his finger back mercilessly. The bones give way with a sickening crunch, and though Heeseung tries to hold it in and be brave, a guttural scream rips from his throat. The sound is raw, torn from deep within him. You can only akin it to an animal being tortured, and in some way, he is.
His knuckles from his right hand whiten further as it clings to nothing, his other fingers trembling uncontrollably as the trap tightens. You can hear the awful, wet sound of skin stretching, starting to split at the joints. The mechanic isn’t just breaking his fingers…it’s tearing them off.
Blood wells from the tears, trickling down his hand, the droplets splattering softly onto the grimy floor. Heeseung’s entire body trembles as wave after wave of agony courses through him and his breaths come out in ragged gasps, chest heaving violently, but there’s no escape from the vice-like grip.
Dayoung turns away, shielding her eyes from the gore in front of her. Never has she seen something so brutally evil. The worst thing she has ever witnessed was a Seagul popping under a tyre, and even then it took her 2 months of therapy to even glance at a winged animal ever again.
You can't tear your eyes away though, no matter how much you know you should. For just one finger, there’s so much blood, trickling relentlessly like a grotesque, mesmerising waterfall onto the floor, forming a pool of dark red. You hear each drip hit the ground, its quiet sound somehow more deafening than the crack of bone that preceded it. You're frozen, trapped with Heeseung in this nightmare.
“That’s one right and one wrong. Let’s hope for your sake, Heeseung, you get the next questions right. Wouldn’t want to see any more fingers out of place, would we?” Jaeyun mocks. He’s so sarky you wonder how on earth he ended up this way - so numb to all of this.
Jaehyun's attention moves down to the collar that is snugly wrapped around Heeseung's neck. His heart clenches as he realises how much worse things may get. Heeseung treated this as a quiz with consequences. However, when Jaehyun watches the blood run freely from the boy's hand, he realises that this game is far crueller than they could have anticipated. His expression remains stoic, however, disguising his terror. Without the tiny wobble of his Adam's apple, no one would have known he was anxious.
Heeseung's breathing is weak and uneven as his body trembles from shock. The acute, burning agony that had previously ripped through him begins to fade slightly, but it stays in deep, throbbing pulses. He grinds his teeth, pulling in air through his nose, attempting to endure the pain, but it's searing up his arm and into his shoulder.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he wills himself to breathe through it, to focus on something - anything - other than the pain and his other fingers twitch slightly, instinctively trying to pull away from the trap and escape their possible fate, but it's pointless - they’re trapped in there like rats on glue.
"Okay, time for the next round, folks! Are you ready, Heeseung? This one’s a real doozy. Third question!" Jaeyun’s voice is tainted with dark amusement, basking in the misery he is causing. "What's the best way to dispose of a body in under six hours without leaving a trace?"
The room becomes deathly quiet. It's a question no one could know the answer to unless they have done it before. The air feels heavy, as everyone holds their breath, or rather, gifts the air in their bodies to Heeseung. His chest rises and falls fast with your snatched breaths, his mind rushing for anything, any piece of knowledge that may rescue him.
But there's nothing.
"I-" Heeseung stammers, his speech scarcely audible. His throat is dry, his thoughts are confused, and his body is gradually giving up, wracked with distress and anxiety. He tries again, but his words are little more than rasps. "Acid?" It's a crazy and desperate guess, and the moment he says it, his face falls. He knows it's not the right answer.
Jaeyun’s laugh crackles through the speakers, high-pitched and mocking. “Oof, sorry, Heeseung, that’s not quite right. You’d need a lot more time to do that properly…Man, I should have invested in that buzzer.”
Everyone tenses again. Heeseung doesn't even have time to prepare himself before it happens. The second snap is even louder and quicker than the first: a horrific, gut-wrenching crack. His finger is violently jerked back, the bone splintering due to the pressure. This time, the device doesn't stop with a single snap. The finger bends even farther back at an unnatural angle, causing the broken bones to grind together with a sickening crunch. It makes your teeth grind together for some reason. The skin breaks more, the sharp edges of bone ripping through the flesh, blood coughing out in a fine mist and trickling down his hand in thick rivulets.
Heeseung lets out a strangled shriek, and his body convulses in the chair. His scream is muffled, halfway between a gasp and a sob, as he struggles to breathe through the unbearable pain His non-trapped fingers squeeze into fists, his knuckles becoming white as his body reacts instinctively to the sheer agony he is in. Tears burn his eyes, distorting his vision as the room around him appears to shrink, the anguish overshadowing everything.
“Looks like that one’s a little worse than the last, huh? Really fun fact for you all, the fingers located near the middle of your hand are actually attached to more nerves and have more bones than the others. So you better hope you get the next few questions right because otherwise…”
Everyone looks at Heeseung’s severed hand and comes to the same realisation. With his pinky and engagement finger already torn from his hand, his middle finger is up next, which means the most painful of all.
The tortured boy finds it hard to concentrate on the madman’s educational lesson as he sits there, trying to fight the dizziness creeping in from the loss of blood.
"Hey, Heeseung, we've had our ups and downs, right? But I bet you'll appreciate the next one! It's a little challenging, but I believe in you. Fingers crossed!"
Heeseung flinches at the mention of fingers. His entire body is shivering, his muscles taut, and his head is foggy, pain radiates from his hand in unrelenting waves. His pulse thunders in his ears, and the room spins slightly as he struggles to remain aware. Every part of him wants to give up and let the misery engulf him, yet some deep, primordial urge drives him to hold on - to survive.
Jaeyun's voice becomes more serious as he continues the interview. "Okay, listen up. If you wanted to make a murder appear like an accident, how would you shatter the victim's bones in a way that mimicked a fall from a high location without actually dropping them?"
Squeezing his eyes shut, Heeseung’s mind is beginning to race, trying to latch onto something that might help him. Documentaries, tv shows, movies, all play in his head at once like an overstimulating nightmare, and somewhere in that murky chaos, an idea forms.
“...Weights,” Heeseung mutters, his voice hoarse. It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s all he has and it’s better than no answer at all. “You…use weights…drop them…to break the bones, then stage the fall.”
The five of you hold your breath as silence falls over. Even Jaeyun appears to linger longer than usual as he considers Heeseung's response. Then, through the crackle of the speakers, Jaeyun lets out a slow, almost begrudging whistle. “Well, colour me impressed, Heeseung. That…is correct. You actually got it. Who knew you had such a devious mind, eh?”
The shock reverberates through the room because no one, including Heeseung, can believe it. His head lolls forward, and for the first time, he lets out a small, broken chuckle of relief. His chest heaves with a deep, difficult breath, and his ray of hope brightens, even if only slightly.
Sunoo stands next to you, shaking frantically. His gaze darts between Heeseung and the collar placed securely around his neck, his lips twitching with barely restrained terror. Then, unexpectedly, a faint, pathetic sob escapes him. You look at him, experiencing the genuine horror that emanates from his body.
Without thinking, you draw him closer, throwing your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to console him. His body is rigid, yet he leans into you and grabs your sleeve like a lifeline. You've only known him for an hour or so, but with these circumstances, you feel compelled to shelter him. You wouldn’t say you had maternal instincts, none at all really, but you feel a pull towards the boy; like a planet to the sun. .
“And now… the fifth and final question.” He lets the words hang as he breaks the tender moment, “You’ve made it this far, Heeseung which is impressive, but you know how this works. This is the decider. Get it right, and you walk out of here with your life. Get it wrong…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but everyone knows what happens if Heeseung fails. That collar around his neck isn’t just for show. It will obliterate his being if he fumbles on this last question.
There is a shared look of sorrow mixed with the tiniest specal of hope that Heeseung can get out of this, that he might have lost two fingers but he will rise from that chair with his life. It’s all anyone can hope for, particularly the boy himself.
"Alright Heeseung, last one, and let's see what you've got. Who was the first person ever murdered?”
The room freezes and you feel Sunoo’s breath hitch beside you, his body going rigid in your grasp. A ripple of disbelief washes through everyone because this question…it’s fucking impossible. You exchange a glance with the others, hearts pounding, knowing that the probability of Heeseung guessing this right is closer to zero than ten.
Heeseung stares blankly ahead, his thoughts racing. The pain flowing from his wounded hand fades into the background as he realises this is the end. His thoughts race through several clouds of despair, anxiously searching for a solution. However, his thoughts comes up empty. He has no means of answering this. His breathing quickens, his chest rising and falling wildly as the pressure builds, clamping down on him like a vice.
His gaze shifts to his hand, or what's left of it. The gruesome scene of fractured bones, ripped flesh, and pooled blood. His once-strong fingers are now disfigured beyond recognition. It appears alien to him, as if it does not belong to his body anymore, and he certainly doesn't want it to be. The agony that once overwhelmed him has subsided, replaced with a chilly, creeping anticipation of what is to come. He cannot win. He's known it for a while, but this question - this impossible, ludicrous question - solidifies it in his mind.
Heeseung’s heart sinks as the hopelessness floods in, drowning any last flicker of hope. He looks down at the collar around his neck, the cold metal pressing against his skin, and he knows, without a doubt, that it’s going to kill him. His thoughts turn dark, his pulse pounding like a war drum in his ears. The idea of death, once abstract and distant, now feels all too real, looming over him like a shadow.
His mind begins to spiral. He pictures the trap and what on earth it could do to his neck. Would it hurt? Would it be fast? Or would there be a brief moment, just a second, where he’d feel everything before the darkness swallowed him whole?
A bitter taste fills his mouth, the knowledge that he’s going to die here settling like lead in his stomach. There’s no way out. No answer that will save him. He’s done for.
“I… I don’t know,” Heeseung finally whispers, his voice cracked and hollow. It’s not a plea for mercy, not an attempt to bargain. It’s just the truth - cold, hard, and brutal to accept.
Jaeyun's voice, feigning sorrow, returns over the speakers. "That's a shame, Heeseung. According to the Bible, the first murder was committed by Abel. But that doesn't really matter, does it? You got it incorrect.
Sunoo lets out a choked sob, burying his face in your shoulder and shivering vehemently as the reality dawns on everyone.
Heeseung's fate is sealed. He's going to die.
The room is a graveyard of mourning, with the weight of what's going to happen crushing down like a thick and choking fog. Heeseung sits there, shaking, just holding on to his last scrap of hope. The pain from his fractured fingers pales in comparison to the nearing horror that looms over him.
The trap releases Heeseung's finger for just a moment before a quick, abrupt force yanks it back violently. The sound is horrible, a harsh snap that echoes across the room. Flesh shreds, tendons and muscle give way to the unrelenting strain of the pull, and the bone shatters into shards. Blood pours like a crimson rainbow, with the droplets catching the light before falling to the floor to meet their already escaped family.
His anguish is a living thing, twisting and writhing inside him, growing with each heartbeat. He feels the loss - both physical and metaphysical - as his finger is ripped from him. The pain doesn’t just echo in his hand; it reverberates through his soul, a profound reminder that he is about to lose it all. His breath comes in ragged gasps, sharp and shallow, as the world begins to fade at the edges, like a high-opacity vignette.
Amidst the hubbub, your eyes suddenly lower, and you notice it; the red light on the collar flickers like a heartbeat in the quiet. It's a warning sign for approaching disaster, a siren song that you can hear all too loudly. Each LED flicker acts as a countdown, catching everyone's attention.
Confusion sweeps across Heeseung's face, his forehead furrowing as he struggles to grasp the unexpected change in the room until he follows each of your gazes down to his fate. He observes the red glow as it pulses, and it is enough to warp the faces in the background.
He shakes his head weakly, as he attempts to wish the light away. "I…I don't want to die," he murmurs, each syllable a desperate cry that hovers in the air like a ghost. "I...I'm a good person!"
Dayoung’s heart sinks at the sound, and without a second thought, she rushes towards him, the instinct to save overwhelming any sense of self-preservation. “No! We have to get this off him!” she shouts, desperation flooding her voice.
But Jaehyun lunges forward, catching her arm before she can reach Heeseung. “Don’t! If you try and take it off, you’ll die too!” The urgency in his voice is laced with fear; while the boy in the chair’s fate is sealed, the rest of you can still have a chance.
Heeseung's eyes widen with terror and his breath quickens. Desperately, his wrists struggle to escape out of the leather straps, his legs kicking and struggling as he tries to tear himself free with the adrenaline of knowing he is dying in mere minutes, seconds. He opens his mouth, a choking sound emerging as he searches for one last idea, a desperate confession that could rescue him.
But time is no longer on his side.
In a single second, the collar explodes with a thunderous sound that resonates across the room. The blast is brutal, sending pieces of metal and flesh flying in all directions. Blood splashes the walls, mimicking a horrific shower, turning the room scarlet and crimson. Heeseung's head vanishes in an instant, skin and bone crushing under the sheer force of the collar's mechanics, spreading fragments of him throughout the universe like grotesque confetti.
Some of his skin and blood splatter on the rest of you, Dayoung and Jaehyun getting the brunt of it as they stand too close to the crime. Pieces of the boy now firmly clinging to you, his last remnants of hope in each of the lumps of his flesh, begging you to put him back together.
Silence follows, thick and suffocating, leaving everyone in the room trapped in a state of shock, their minds struggling to comprehend the unthinkable. It’s not every day that you see someone blown to smithereens.
Dayoung remains transfixed, her hands quivering at her sides with specs of Heeseung's blood covering her skin. The warmth seems surreal in juxtaposition to the icy grip of disbelief that has settled in her chest. She feels as if she has been driven into a nightmare that she can't escape, her heart beating in frantic panic as the truth of the situation breaks over her like a tidal wave.
Jaehyun's eyes are wide and unblinking, peering into the space where Heeseung formerly sat. The conservatism he wore as armour has crumbled, revealing a raw vulnerability. He feels the weight of guilt crushing down on him, thick and oppressive. He should have done something to stop this madness. But now all that remains is a terrifying quiet, broken only by the gentle patter of blood flowing from the surroundings, as if the room were mourning the loss along with you all.
With his breath hitching in his throat as he grapples with the horror, Sunoo falls to the ground, letting you go, the impact jolting him back to reality. Tears stream down his cheeks, mixing with the blood that clings to his skin. “What just happened?” he whispers, his voice breaking, a fragile thread of sound that feels more like a whistle in the wind. No one can hear him, all drowning in your own minds.
You wipe the blood from your face, spitting out little bits of Heeseung's shattered head from your mouth as you gaze at his motionless corpse, shoulders to feet still attached. There is a beautiful quiet in death, both serene and awe-inspiring. Though his screams of dread and anguish echo in your memory, you know he is finally free.
You just need to make sure you avoid the same fate.
_____
Hours pass by as the group processes Heeseung’s demise. You try to clear up as much of him as you can, finding an old brush in the corner of the room, and sweeping up his head’s ashes. It’s surreal to be sweeping up a splattered head with such a commonly used household tool. Once you finish, you see the pile of him smooshing together, you wonder what type of person he was; good or bad, happy or sad, smart or dumb. You never really got to know him in the fleeting hour you spent trapped here together, all you can run off of is your imagination.
That is easier said than done however, especially with your mind caught up in what happened; it’s hard to separate him from the dismembered mess you’re cleaning up so casually. He seemed kind, and strong-willed, though that might be the reason he’s dead right now.
Taking the first task was a brave but foolish decision. Is it wrong to be thankful that it wasn’t you? Even though you knew the answers, you wonder how your brain would have processed them if you were in the same situation as Heeseung. Like when you watch Catchphrase and get them all perfect, but as soon as you step foot in that studio, your mind blanks out from the pressure.
Sunoo and Dayoung have formed a bond through your time stuck in misery, those two you can read like a book. Both bubbly and bright, well, at least they would be if you met them under different circumstances. Dayoung is a beautiful air hostess who needs a job closer to home now that her mother is sick. When her best friend told her about jobs on the dark web, she applied for a bunch that seemed promising, dirty work that no one else would want to do - cleaning, sex work, drug transportation. She applied for them all. She is far too sweet to be here, and certainly too lovely to be a murderer's assistant.
Jaehyun on the other hand, you haven’t heard a peep, a few grunts here and there, but never a word. He’s strange, constantly working something out in his head that you can’t quite put your finger on. You think about Dayoung’s accusation again but more in-depth.
Clearly, he is not the killer or orchestrator of this entire derangement. But he is hiding something, either about his past or his present; in either case, you need to be wary of him.
"What about you, Y/N," Sunoo says with a sweet grin, "what did you do before this?"
To be honest, you haven't been paying attention to their chat recently, so the question throws you off. "Um, I…go to university."
Dayoung’s eyes light up, a flicker of her usual sunny personality breaking through. “I knew you were about our age! What are you studying?”
Before you can respond, the air crackles to life unexpectedly with the tannoy - it's almost cheery, in sharp contrast to the strain on everyone's faces.
"Sorry, I kept you waiting," Jaeyun's voice echoes uncomfortably light-hearted. "I had some other business to take care of." His voice alone sends shivers down your spine, and the phoney civility makes it much more terrifying. "Isn't it a shame about Heeseung? I was convinced he would make it!"
Your gaze instinctively flickers to where Heeseung’s body lays, and a cold wave of dread washes over you. The atmosphere shifts instantly, becoming even more hostile; Jaeyun’s mere voice is enough to suck the warmth from Sunoo and Dayoung straight out of the room. The others seem equally disturbed - Sunoo pales, and Dayoung’s lips tremble, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“Are you ready for task two?” Jaeyun continues, never actually expecting an answer, because let's face it, you all don’t really have a choice.
“Well, that depends,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath, bitterness tainting his words. “Is it fucking impossible?”
Jaeyun tuts mockingly, “No task is impossible, Jaehyun.” His tone sharpens, clearly irritated by the defiance. No one really talks back to killers like this, so you can understand the animosity that he holds for the older man. “Y/N, angel, could you be a sweetheart and pull that cloth over on the right?”
Your heart skips a beat as he speaks to you directly. You had not seen the big, alarming object wrapped in a thick sheet until now. It lurks in the corner of the room, producing a massive shadow that appears to reach across the ground. With trembling hands, you approach it, the others gazing in tense stillness. The cloth seems heavy in your fingers, and the structure beneath is gradually revealed as you draw it away.
It's...horrifying. The tower rises around 8 feet tall and resembles a monstrous crucifix made of cold, glistening metal. At the top, as well as at the ends of the arm and foot sections, are little contraptions linked to a gear system that is too complex for even a YouTube tutorial to describe. The mechanics look meticulously designed for one purpose: pain. Your breath freezes in your throat as you take in the whole thing.
“Isn’t it beautiful? I made it myself, believe it or not.” Jaeyun’s voice drips with pride, “Someone needs to strap themselves in, and the rest of you... well, your job is simple. Find the keys I’ve hidden-”
“No,” you cut in, your voice surprisingly steady despite the bubbling in your stomach. “Tell us what really happens. One of us goes into this trap, and what?”
There is a pause. Then Jaeyun's voice returns, a bit slower and more deliberate. "Well," Jaeyun drawls, delighting in you discomfort. "See those gears? Once you're strapped in, parts of the machine start to spin all the way around. Slowly at first and each limb gets a full twist, one by one. You've got 10 minutes to find all the keys before your neck gets twisted and...you get the jist"
A countdown appears on the wall, and you realise the terrifying truth. The floor drops out from beneath you.
"So, who's going in?" Jaeyun taunts.
The four of you exchange glances, each of your eyes betraying the same emotion - terror. None of you need to voice it. After witnessing Heeseung’s brutal demise, it's clear that no one wants to be the next victim. The unspoken tension swallows you whole. Jaeyun’s laughter still echoes faintly in your ears, mocking your helplessness as you stand before the towering metal monstrosity.
Jaehyun breaks the silence first. His hands shoot up, palms forward as though warding off any suggestion that he should take the fall. “Not me.” His voice is firm, adamant that he will not be strapped up and deemed helpless. Maybe it’s the toxic masculinity or something else, either way, you don’t really like his mentality.
He steps back, glaring at the floor as if searching for answers in the cracks of the concrete. “I’m no good to you in that trap. I’m...” He hesitates, his brows knitting together as he searches for the right words, contemplating how much he should share. “Good at finding things. Things out of sight.” His lips curl into a faint snarl as his mind thinks in ways you can’t decipher from the twitch in his brow.
Sunoo fidgets anxiously before exclaiming, "I'm really good at escape rooms!" His speech resonates with an unexpected surge of confidence, and his eyes are filled with the hope that this will pardon him. "I always find the last clue!" A short smile flashes over his lips, a proud glance that glows behind his sullen demeanour. Escape rooms require cleverness, a knack for finding hidden things, secret compartments, and codes. He’s putting himself forward as the best option for hunting down the keys. His reasoning is sound, and the relief on his face is almost palpable as he sees the rest of you nod.
You just hope he isn’t lying.
That leaves just you and Dayoung. You can feel their gaze on you, and the weight of expectation presses across your chest like a weight bar, and you have no one to spot you. The boys have already thrown out their reasons.. Now it's your turn. You open your mouth, but your thoughts are blank. How could you even start arguing your way out of this? There is no legitimate justification that will not come out as cowardly. Fear claws at your insides, and for a brief minute, you envision the machine twisting your limbs one by one, hearing the crunch of bone and muscles shredding, and experiencing the excruciating pain. The image makes you feel like vomiting.
Dayoung fidgets next to you, her eyes darting between the rest of you in search of an escape. Her face is pale and fingers tremble as she tugs on the hem of her shirt. You can see her anxiety, a mirror of yours. But underneath that anxiety is truth, and the truth is that someone has to step into the trap - you cannot let that person be you.
The painful instrument dominates your thoughts, its cold, lifeless shape sending shivers down your spine. You can hardly think straight as you look for any excuse or justification to avoid the crucifix-like monster.
"I..." you begin, your voice unsteady and hesitant. "I have quick hands." The lie emerges before you can stop it, a feeble attempt to weasel your way out. “I’m good at…opening things. Picking locks, and…I can hotwire stuff. If worst comes to worst, maybe I can stop the gears.”
The flimsy excuse hangs in the air, and for a moment, you wonder if they’ll see through it. Sunoo, to your surprise, nods quickly, accepting your words without question. His eyes flicker with a strange sense of determination, as though he’s already decided this task will be his moment to prove something - perhaps even to himself. It’s not just about who gets into the death trap anymore; it’s about whether or not the others trust you enough to find the keys and save whoever steps into that crucifix-shaped machine.
Dayoung, however, remains frozen, her terror palpable. She looks between you and the machine with a mixture of disbelief and silent pleading, as if she’s hoping someone - anyone - will speak up and spare her from what’s coming. The claggy air around you grows thicker and more suffocating. Every breath feels shallow, as though you’re inhaling the very tension that blankets the room.
“Dayoung, you get in,” Jaehyun says, his tone flat and absolute. There’s no room for argument, and you can see from the set of his jaw that he’s not going to entertain any. His words hang heavy in the silence, a command disguised as a suggestion.
Dayoung snaps out of her haze, eyes widening with horror as she instinctively goes into defence mode. Nothing like someone forcing you to possible death to spring you alert. “Huh? Why me?” Her voice wavers, panic obvious in her words. “I have twenty-twenty vision, and I’m smaller than all of you! I can squeeze into tight spaces-”
You interrupt, your voice stronger than you feel. “The three of us all have those skills covered. I’ve got good eyesight, and Sunoo is small, he can wiggle into any space that needs crawling into.” You’re desperate now, more than you’d like to admit. If they start considering her reasoning, you’ll be the one stepping into that machine, and you can’t - won’t - let that happen. You don’t know these people. You don’t trust them. What if they strap you in and fail to find the keys in time? What if they’re lying about their abilities? What if they leave you to die?
Sunoo, catching onto your momentum, pipes up next. “Yeah, and you said you were a cheerleader back in high school,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “So that means you’re, like, bendy, right?”
Dayoung glares at him, clearly regretting ever sharing that piece of personal information. “What does that have to do with my limbs being twisted off my body?!” she snaps. “Flexible or not, they’ll still be twirled like a fucking pretzel!”
You wince at the harshness of her words, but Jaehyun, standing by the contraption, doesn't seem fazed. Instead, he glances at Dayoung, his expression unreadable as he adds, “It means you might be able to withstand it more than we will.”
The room falls silent, weighing up the truth of his statement and somehow agreeing with his logic. Dayoung, however, looks at him like he’s lost his mind, her face contorted with disbelief and horror. “Oh, and what about my neck, huh?” she snaps, voice rising. “What if you losers don’t find all the keys and my neck gets snapped? Nobody can ‘withstand’ that more.”
Her words echo in the room, and for a brief moment, everyone is stunned into silence. Jaehyun crosses his arms, clearly unmoved by her protests. He’s decided, and there’s no changing his mind.
"I don't want to die like this," Dayoung says, her voice suddenly low and broken. Her shoulders sag as the gravity of the situation sinks in. Her eyes are glazed over with terror, and you can feel her breaking. All that bravado and bite she had earlier is slowly but surely disappearing.
But Jaehyun's stare is unwavering. He takes a step nearer and rests his hand on the cool metal of the machine, his eyes surveying the intricate gearwork with detached fascination. "We won't let it go that far; just do it," he adds, almost as if he's trying to persuade himself as well as her.
Finally, Dayoung takes a hesitant step forward, her face pale as a ghost. She's resigned, like a prisoner headed to the end of the line. And you can only watch as she climbs onto the platform, her hands shaking as she fumbles with the straps, helping Jaehyun secure her into whatever fate lies ahead.
The sound of the straps and locks clicking into place makes your stomach churn and Dayoung’s breath hitches as the final buckle snaps into position, locking her neck in. You can see the panic rising in her eyes, her chest heaving as the machine stirs to life. She’s finding it hard to believe that Heeseung was so calm, and if he wasn’t, then how the fuck did he hide it so well.
“Excellent! Well done Dayoung,” Jaeyun’s unsympathetic voice bounces between the speakers and down the walls. “The countdown’ll start as soon as your right arm starts to twist! Good luck and remember, this is a team interview exercise.”
Your legs feel like cement as you wobble forward, your gaze darting over the room, looking for any trace of the missing keys. The others follow suit, but it’s clear that the tension has infected everyone’s ability to think straight. The sound of the machine's gears creaking fills the room as the clock ticks down, and every second feels like a mallet, battering you deeper into dread.
Dayoung whimpers behind you, the straps tightening as precious time slips by. The air is thick with her shallow breaths, and the hum of the machine grows louder, more menacing. You can hear the faint clicking of gears preparing to turn, and the thought of her limbs being twisted…it’s enough to make bile rise in your throat.
You can’t think, can’t focus.
The countdown is annoyingly bright and menacing in the corner of your eye as Dayoung’s breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, the crucifix’s gears clanking ominously and telling the tale of what is to come. Her wide eyes dart frantically between the three of you as her right arm jerks in its restraint, slowly being twisted backwards, the pain already creeping up to her shoulder.
"Please! Oh my God, hurry!" Dayoung cries, her shrieking voice slicing the quiet like a blade. Her body twitches in pain as the cuff tightens around her wrist, and you watch in horror as the skin on her arm stretches unnaturally, taut like a rubber band about to snap.
The grinding noise grows excruciating as the gears yank harder, and suddenly, you hear it: crack - the first bone in her arm fractures loudly, like dry twigs breaking beneath your feet. Blood vessels begin to creep onto the surface of her skin. Her hand twitches furiously, fingers curving into odd angles as her forearm twists tighter and tighter, bones grinding against muscle.
Dayoung’s right arm twists further, the machine now dragging her elbow into an impossible angle. The skin stretches thin, almost translucent, the veins standing out against her flesh. A sickening pop fills the air as her elbow dislocates, and her screams grow louder, more desperate. Blood oozes from her wrist, the pressure of the cuff cutting deep into her skin.
You feel like you’re frozen in place, staring at the horror unfolding in front of you, but Sunoo is sueprisingly the first to break free of the trance. “We need to find the keys!” he shouts, voice tight with panic, to which you and Jaehyun nod, tearing your eyes away from the sight. You all wasted two precious minutes just staring at her when you could have been looking for the keys that could have been saving her.
You rush into action, your mind racing and your hands shaking violently as you yank every object in the room out of its designated space. As you knock it over, a chair smashes to the ground, tearing up its cushion in a blind quest for the key to stop the madness.
Jaehyun searches through a cabinet, tugging drawers out one by one, the wood splintering as he throws them away. "There must be something! Anything!" His voice shakes and you can see desperation in his eyes.
Yanking open a vent in the wall, Sunno’s hands tremble as he feels around inside, the cold metal and dust bunnies brushing his fingertips. Then, he feels a bump and his digits pinch around it, the jagged edges meaning only one thing.
“I’ve got one! I found a key!” he cries out, holding the small piece of metal high. You all rush over to Dayoung, hope surging through you like lightning. Maybe this will work, maybe you can stop it.
Sunoo's heart pounds in his chest as he wrestles with the lock on her right arm restraint. His fingers fumble with the key, trying to find the right angle, but it just won't turn, or more to the point, the key isn't fitting. "No, no, no, no!" he mutters, his voice rising in desperation. He tries again, twisting the key with all his might, but it remains stubbornly stuck.
Jaehyun takes the key from him and tries another lock on the machine. "What the hell?!" He plugs the key into the contraption's base, but the gears continue to revolve. You can hear Dayoung sobbing; the anguish is too much for her to bear.
“We’re wasting time!” you shout, looking around frantically. "Let’s just collect all the keys first, then we’ll figure it out!"
The three of you go back to scrambling around, opening drawers, and checking behind cabinets, Jaehyun even looks around Heeseung’s decapitated body, hoping that one could shine out amongst the blood.
Sunoo discovers another key buried in a crack in the wall, near a dusty old picture. "Another one!" he cries, but the desperation in his voice exposes the helplessness that grips all of you. He pockets the key, and the three of you spread out again, tearing through the room with intent.
Jaehyun is ripping apart the shelf with desperate energy, his knuckles white, when the next horrible thud of the machine resonates across the room, sending a chill down your spine. You turn just in time to see Dayoung's right leg furiously writhing in its constraint, the strap pressing further into her skin. The machine moves its brutal focus to her lower body. Your stomach clenches and nausea rises in your throat as you watch the grotesque scene unfold.
The machine's gears moan, and Dayoung's foot begins to twist awkwardly, as the rotation accelerates. Her thigh remains rigid, its muscles straining and bulging under the pressure, like a rope stretched to its breaking point. Her knee tendons swell beneath her skin, huge cables of flesh pulling and stretching in a dance of resistance. Dayoung's scream punctures the air, a primal, guttural sound that stills your blood. Her face is pallid, smeared with tears and sweat, and her eyes are wide with fear as she thrashes helplessly.
"Oh my God! Not my leg! Not my leg!" She screams with an understandable mix of fear and pain. The thin layer of skin around her knee begins to rip, blood pouring through as the strain goes above what human flesh is capable of withstanding. Her muscles twist and sag as the machine's merciless grasp tightens, and suddenly, with a horrible crack, her knee breaks sideays, making a wet, nauseating sound that echoes like thunder.
The jagged edge of her femur rips through her skin with a nauseating pop, jutting out in a jagged shard. It weirdly reminds you of Adamantoise from Final Fantasy XV. Flesh hangs in torn, ragged ribbons around the exposed bone, and blood pours in a thick torrent, pooling in a dark stain beneath her mangled limb, much like Heeseung’s fingers did, except this is a lot more blood and a lot more evil to watch.
Jaehyun stumbles backwards, panic in his eyes as he tears open another drawer, frantically pulling out a key hidden behind a false panel. His hands shake as he tries the key in the restraint locking her left leg, just in the off chance. “Goddammit! What are these for?!” His voice cracks, teetering on the edge of despair as the key refuses to budge. His breath comes in ragged gasps, desperation turning his hands into quaking fists.
Your mind is overwhelmed by the image of Dayoung's leg, which is no longer recognisable as a limb but rather a tangle of flesh and bone gushing blood. It looks like raw meat shredded apart by wolves. The room spins around you as you claw at the walls, overturning furniture in a wild frenzy, searching for anything - literally anything - to stop this.
Suddenly, Sunoo’s shout pierces the chaos. “I’ve got a gold one!”.
He bolts toward Dayoung, holding up another key as if it were salvation itself. He jams it into the restraint around her left leg, but it doesn’t turn. The machine chugs and Dayoung’s other leg is pulled taut, the bone twisting under the skin in a gruesome slow-motion torture. The sound of her muscles tearing, that awful wet rip, lodges itself in your ears, and you can't shake it.
Then comes the final, sickening snap. The bone in her shin shatters, tearing through her skin in jagged shards. A spray of blood explodes across the room, splattering onto Sunoo’s face, and your legs. It feels warm and sticky against your skin, the coppery scent filling the air and overcoming your senses. Dayoung’s screams have weakened, her voice barely a whisper now, choked with exhaustion and agony, her eyes glazed over in shock, mouth spilling out choked sobs.
It’s amazing how different the circumstances between Dayoung and Heeseung are, yet their deaths follow a similar parallel. The sprays of blood, the weakened states, the bones crushing. It shows that no matter the reason for death, everyone bleeds and breaks the same.
“We don’t have much time!” Sunoo cries, his hands shaking violently, clutching the remaining keys like they’re mocking him. His eyes are wild, filled with fear as he glances between Dayoung’s mutilated body and the infernal machine that continues its slow, merciless work. You can feel it, too - the ticking clock of doom, grinding closer and closer to its inevitable, bloody end.
It’s more daunting than the actual clock behind you.
The machine clicks ominously, and the sound alone makes your stomach lurch. Dayoung’s left arm jerks violently as the mechanical cuffs tighten around her wrist, pulling at her arm and beginning it’s torture on the perfectly in-place limb - the only one she has left. The grinding whir of the machine grows louder, almost gleeful, as though it’s savouring the destruction it's about to unleash on her fragile body. You know Jaeyun will surely be enjoying this - like machine, like inventor.
Her arm twists further, the tendons straining beneath the skin like cords ready to snap. Then, with a sickening pop, her shoulder dislocates just like her right, and you watch as the bone and muscle jut unnaturally against the surface of her skin, threatening to rip through. Blood begins to trickle from the edges of her arm, mixing with the thick pool already staining the floor beneath her mangled legs. Her head lolls to the side, her mouth opening in a weak gasp as her eyes roll back, the struggle for consciousness palpable on her ashen face.
Jaehyun is tearing apart the last piece of furniture in the room, his voice raw with frustration. “There has to be one more key!” He throws the remains of a shattered drawer against the wall, rage flooding his features. It’s supposed to be five keys for the five locks, and even though the older man knows that the likelihood of the last key working, he needs to find it for principle.
The machine doesn’t give you a moment to process that you can’t save her as a dark groan comes from behind her head. it locks into its final phase and Dayoung’s body spasms, her neck jerking in the metal collar now tightening around her throat. Her eyes snap open, wide with pure, unadulterated terror as the realisation hits her, the clock from the projector down to its final two minutes. “No! No, no, no! You said you would save me you fucking assholes.” Her scream is shrill, a piercing wail filled with desperation and horror, the kind that claws at your insides. Her chest heaves as she tries to force air through her constricted throat, her sobs now a mix of strangled cries and gurgling gasps.
The collar tightens further, pressing into her throat like a vice. Rather than spinning her around like it did her arms and legs, this one tightens, squeezing flat against her neck. Her throat bulges unnaturally under the pressure, veins pulsing as the skin stretches to its breaking point. She’s barely able to get a breath, her voice reduced to choking whimpers. “Please, please, stop it!” Dayoung pleads, her wide, panic-stricken eyes darting between you and the others, pleading for mercy, for salvation. “Don’t let it kill me! Please!”
You’re out of time. The keys don’t work and the machine has literally no mercy to offer. But Sunoo isn't going to just let someone die; it's not who he is. He begins to shake the device, kicking and clawing at it, desperation as his driving force. He attempts to remove the leather strap from her throat, but it's too tight to fit his fingers beneath.
“Y/N, you said you can hot wire! Fucking do something,” he cries out, never taking his eyes off Dayoung. He doesn’t know her but even with the dragging hours that have passed, learning about her and forming even a slither of connection, he has to do everything to get her out of this.
In a panic, you rush to the rear of the equipment ripping apart the metal plate concealing its inner workings. Inside, you can see the gears spinning, the chilly, complex system pushing Dayoung's head tighter and tighter, threatening to shatter her neck like a fragile twig.
As your fingers dig into the tangle of cables, the machine roars louder, its gears grinding cruelly, as if mocking your efforts. Sweat pours down your cheeks, and your hands tremble uncontrollably as you grasp at wires, hoping to disconnect something to halt the awful machinery.
"Y/N, hurry!" Sunoo's voice breaks with dread, and his eyes widen as he sees Dayoung's body contort even more. Her short, raspy gasps get faster and more frantic as she struggles against the collar's inexorable tightening. She can't even fight with her body, all of her limbs being held together by straggled pieces of muscle and cartilage. If you were to describe it, you would say what should be her arms and legs have turned into those childhood blankets that disintegrate through years of wear and tear. Yet this only happened in a matter of minutes.
Your fingers fumble with the cables, shaking with every quick movement. You cross some over, hoping that by some miracle, your desperate efforts may put an end to the horror unfolding right in front of you. The air is heavy with tension, and each breath is weighed down by fear and powerlessness. But suddenly, amidst the metallic clinks and grinding hum of the machine, you hear it: the unmistakable click.
The machine surges, accelerating with terrifying speed”
"Y/N! Stop it! Stop it!" Sunoo’s voice is raw, squeaking with sheer panic, but the horror is already set in motion. The machine lets out a final, deafening whir, as if announcing its triumph, and then it happens.
The sound is an abomination - a sharp, bone-splitting crunch that reverberates through the room like a gunshot. It’s not just a snap; it’s a sickening, wet crack and squelch that makes your skin crawl, as though the very marrow inside her bones has been torn apart.
Dayoung’s head shifts distortedly as it falls forward, barely hanging on. Her eyes are wide, lifeless - once filled with terror, now emptied of everything. There’s no struggle left in her, no more screams, no more gasps. The frantic twitching of her body ceases in an instant, the fight drained from her all at once, leaving only a horrifying stillness. Her limbs hang limp in the restraints, the tendons and bones within mangled beyond recognition.
Blood runs from her neck and down her body, creating a deep, black pool with a sticky surface that gleams in the harsh lights above, almost acting like a mirror. Every morsel of life have been drained from her, oozing into the concrete floor and merging with the carnage that has already taken her legs and arms. The machine comes to a slow, halting end, seemingly content with its work, leaving nothing but shattered quiet in its wake.
The silence that follows is oppressive, an emptiness so profound that it feels as if the room is closing in on the three of you. The weight of the terror bears down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe, and your pulse hammering in your ears as the realisation of what has just happened sets in. As you walk around to see the mess that you helped cause, you place a hand over your mouth, masking your emotions as your eyes trail every piece of her. Dayoung’s mutilated body hangs before you, a disturbing wreckage of blood, bone, and twisted flesh. Her limbs, once full of life and motion, now hang like shattered remnants of a body that once moved, once breathed. The machine has reduced her to ruin, her final scream still echoing faintly in your mind, haunting and relentless.
Sunoo backs up and you catch him before he falls, your left arm scooped around his waist as you hold him steady. You pat his head with your free hand, lulling him to calm down, but no amount of shushing or empathetic words can stop him from shutting down. So, you gently place him down on the ground, facing away from Dayoung’s mangled body.
The clock behind you switches from the dreaded countdown to Jaeyun, his eyes lighting up with joy as he takes in the pretty sight before him.
“Wow. That was a mess huh?” The pout on his face makes him look young, but no matter how baby his face might look, he is still evil throughout his bones. "That is such a shame, guys. Really, I am so sorry. All you needed was one mor-" he stops suddenly and it's quiet as you’re all left in suspense. He giggles and gasps in mocking shock. "Oh no…guys this is all my fault…I didn't put in the right keys...my bad"
The taunting lilt in Jaeyun's voice makes your skin crawl, the shine of the correct keys in his hands only adding insult to injury. The weight of Dayoung's lifeless body settles heavily on your chest, but Jaeyun’s words rip through that veil of despair like a sharp blade, twisting the knife deeper.
"You sick bastard!" Jaehyun shouts out, veins popping from his forehead. Hearing the murderer through a tannoy is one thing, but for Jaehyun, seeing him is so much worse. The smug grin that never leaves, the sheer enjoyment that vibrates through his body as he talks you through the torment, he can’t fucking stand it.
"Even if the correct keys had been in place, Dayoung would still be nothing more than a twisted wreck. This doesn’t change anything. Her fate was sealed the moment this game began. You didn’t find the last key."
Frustration mounts, fists clenched and knuckles whitening. There’s an instinct to lash out, to break something, to do anything to fight the powerlessness suffocating the room. "You’re lying!" Jaehyun snaps, refusing to believe or accept his own downfall in finding the key. "You hid that last key! There was never a chance to save her!"
The murderer on the screen gives a cold laugh, eyes gleaming with perverse pleasure. "Now, now," comes the taunting coo, "I wouldn’t be screaming at your potential future employee, Jaehyun."
A sharp bang fills the space as Jaehyun’s fist slams against the wall, the thud reverberating through the air. "Where is it?" The demand is firm, the need to know outweighing the anger. “Tell me where the last key is!”
A soft, condescending sigh follows. "Why do you care, hmm? Dayoung is already dead, her neck squished like a grape. Why does it matter?" The question is laced with cruelty, the words designed to provoke.
Taking a breath, Jaehyun forces the anger down, his voice dropping to a low growl. He needs to remain calm and focused right now. "Call it curiosity."
Silence hangs for a moment before Jaeyun leans forward, his gaze dark with amusement. "Curiosity, huh?" he muses. "I like that in my workers." The pause stretches on as if savouring the tension. Then, his voice takes on a more dramatic tone. "The last key…is in the eye of the beholder."
“What the fuck does that mean?" The sneer from Jaehyun is filled with disdain as his eyes narrowed in frustration. "Quit with your cryptic bullshit!"
Jaeyun’s grin widens into something grotesque. He doesn’t explain, not even a blues clues crayon drawing to help you understand. Instead, he adopts a chirpier demeanour, clapping his hands together and bringing back that game show host vibe he had at the very beginning.
"Who’s ready for round three?" The shift in tone is as jarring as it is maddening, the man’s sadistic pleasure in his own game shining through.
A whisper breaks the silence. "W-what is it?" Sunoo’s voice trembles, his body shaking and eyes glistening with tears.
"Glad you asked, Sunoo!" The glee in Jaeyun’s voice is palpable, oozing cruelty. "Round three is a favourite in our household. We like to call it...Key Cutter."
A thrill spikes as you glance toward the screen, dread and curiosity settling deep in your stomach. "What...what does that mean?" you ask, voice tight.
"It begins with a scan," he replies, his tone dropping lower and more sinister. “Y/N, why don’t you be a doll and grab the brown envelope on the table to your right?”
Swallowing hard, you nod and move stiffly toward the table, legs heavy. The envelope sits there, innocuous in appearance, yet you know that whatever it contains will be anything but ordinary. With trembling hands, you tear it open and pull out the contents. A stack of MRI images stares back at you, cold and clinical. At first, you don't register what you're seeing, but then the truth hits like a sledgehammer.
The scan shows a skull, some side view and others straight on, but within it, lodged behind the eye socket, is something metallic.
A key…the key.
“What the hell is this?” Your voice barely escapes your lips as the images tremble in your hands.
Jaeyun’s laughter reverberates through the room. "Oh, it’s actually kinda funny. The fifth key you need? It’s hidden inside someone’s skull."
A wave of nausea washes over you as his words sink in. One of you is carrying the key inside your own head.
“How the hell were we supposed to know that?” Jaehyun barks, snatching the scan from your hands quickly, eyes narrow as he studies the image and muscles tensing with each second that passes. His knuckles turn white, gripping the paper so tightly that it threatens to tear. There’s a fire in his eyes - rage, frustration, and helplessness all coiling into a dangerous tornado inside him.
“Didn’t you say you were good at finding things? You should’ve figured that out, Jaehyun.” The taunt from Jaeyun cuts deep, aimed with precision to needle Jaehyun's already strained patience, and clearly it’s working.
Sunoo, wiping his tear-streaked cheeks, takes a trembling step forward. His body is still shaking but there’s a determination now - a need to understand what the fuck is going on, even as fear gnaws at him.
“I...I want to see it,” Sunoo mumbles softly, his voice cracking as he approaches. His hand reaches out, fingers quivering as they touch the edge of the scan and pull it from the man’s grasp. Sunoo doesn’t like anger or confrontation and although he understands Jaehyun and his right to be mad, it doesn’t make him any less frightened of him.
His eyes flit across the image, tracing the lines of the skull, the shape of the eye socket, and finally, the small key embedded within. His breath catches in his throat. “Whose... whose eye is it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
A sinister chuckle echoes through the speakers. “Why don’t you take a closer look, bud?”
Sunoo’s fingers tighten around the paper, pulling the image closer to his face and his brows furrowing as he focuses. There’s something familiar about the shape, the positioning of the skull. He’s seen this before...in a different context. His eyes widen suddenly, like a jolt of icy realisation has shot through him, freezing him in place.
“N-no...” he breathes, the colour draining from his face. His lips tremble, and his whole body runs cold, every part of him going rigid as his heart pounds in his chest, desperate to keep his blood pumping. "I-it’s...it’s mine."
Both you and Jaehyun turn toward him, the air in the room thickening with dread. Sunoo stares at the scan, barely able to process what he’s seeing. His hand lifts shakily to his face, fingers hovering near his right eye, as if he could somehow feel the key hidden inside, buried in his skull. "I-I recognise the fracture," he says, voice trembling. "I...I had an accident a few years ago...a fall. They did a scan, and it looks just like this...This is my skull."
A suffocating silence falls over the room as the three of you stare blankly at the scan, any hope that it was a hoax now ripped away from each of you.
Sunoo is the one. The key is inside him. And now, the terrible weight of what that means settles over the group like a dark cloud.
Jaeyun’s voice, dripping with delight, breaks the tension. “That’s right, Sunoo! You’re the chosen one. You’ve been holding onto the key this whole time. Isn’t it funny how life works?” The sound of his laughter twists the knife further into the collective horror.
Sunoo stumbles back, his legs giving way as he crumples to the floor, shaking violently and backing up to the wall. "No...no, no, no...this can’t be real!" His hands grasp at his face, desperate and terrified, as if he could pull the key out by sheer will alone. Tears stream freely now, the terror overwhelming him completely. It might be his imagination but as the salty liquid hits his lips once again, there’s a metallic taste to it, the key dissolving into his tears.
"Hey, hey, it's okay! We don’t need the key anymore, Sunoo. You’re safe,” you rush to comfort him, your voice strained but hoping that somehow your words will break through his panic. After all, Dayoung’s fate was sealed without that final key. What difference would it make now?
But the instant Jaeyun’s voice cuts in, your skin crawls, and you feel a chill deep in your bones. "Weeeelll..." Jaeyun drags out the word, dripping with sinister delight. You freeze. His tone alone tells you that something much worse is coming. You glance at Sunoo, who is still sitting in a broken heap on the floor, and your stomach turns.
"You see," Jaeyun continues, "those keys you’ve been gathering? They weren’t actually for task two... but you do need them for task three."
The room seems to close in as his words seep into your mind. You can feel Sunoo next to you, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. His eyes glaze over in shock, and he looks like he’s going to be sick - and you wouldn’t blame him if he projectiled all over the floor right now.
The sharp stench of fear and sweat fills the air. His throat bobs, dry lips parting as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out because there’s nothing to say, nothing that can get him out of this. His chest rises and falls rapidly, breaths shallow, and you see the terror completely take over.
"Y-you’re lying...we don’t need the key..." Sunoo mumbles, but there’s no conviction behind his words. His body betrays him, curling in on itself, as though he’s trying to make himself small enough to disappear.
Jaeyun hums thoughtfully, as though considering. "I wouldn’t lie to you. I make it habit never to lie to my employees. You see, task three? It’s a blood sport. Literally."
A low, ominous hum begins to vibrate in the room, coming from somewhere deep in the walls. The tension mounts as Jaeyun’s explanation continues. "There’s a box in front of you, you see it? That box needs to be filled with blood. When it’s full, the door to the final interview will open. Easy enough, right?" His voice is light, almost playful. But the implications hang heavy in the air, crushing your hope.
Your eyes dart around, searching the dim room until they land on the glass box that had gone unnoticed until now, nestled against the far wall. It's ominous, with measured lines down the side of it, indicating the measurements of what it’s supposed to hold.
"The catch," Jaeyun goes on, relishing every moment of your growing horror, "is that you need all the keys to unlock the cabinet where some special tools are stored. You can’t spill a drop until you have every key in hand because you can only use the tools that I give you! And before you think about it; no, you cannot use Dayoung or Heeseung’s blood, that would be waaay too easy."
Sunoo stifles a sob as he listens, hands clenched at his sides. His breath comes out ragged, and his whole body seems to shake with barely contained hysteria. “N-no...I can’t...I can’t do this!” His voice wavers as his panic deepens. The vomit threatening in his throat seems to rise, and he swallows it back, his face going pale as his lips tremble.
You kneel down beside him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Sunoo, listen to me," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "We can figure this out. Just breathe."
Sunoo shakes his head frantically, panic surging through his veins. "I can’t...I can’t-"
Jaeyun cuts in again, casually flipping the mood. "Of course, you don’t have to volunteer yourself, Sunoo. You all make it a team effort. It’s up to you, I’m all for teamwork, although, I would like it if my new assistant had most of their body intact." He chuckles darkly, the sound grating in your ears like nails on a chalkboard.
Your heart sinks as you absorb his words. You glance at the others, trying to read their faces, but the reality of what’s being asked of you makes everything seem surreal.
"Fill the box with blood, and the door opens. Simple as that." Jaeyun’s words echo, cold and final. "If you want a shot at getting out of here, you're going to need that key. So, what’s it going to be?"
Sunoo squeezes his eyes shut and wraps his arms around himself, trying to keep from falling apart completely. Fresh tears fall down his cheeks and he’s breaking down right in front of you, shaking like a leaf from the wind that Jaeyun has just knocked out of him.
His panic spirals rapidly out of control; breaths come in short, erratic gasps, his chest heaving as if he can’t get enough air. His eyes dart around wildly, searching for a way out, but there is none. His entire body trembles violently, and you can see the sweat gathering at his hairline, his skin pale as death…which is all his body is gearing him up for.
“I can’t…I can’t…I can’t!” His voice cracks, hysteria rising, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He starts backing away, his legs stumbling over themselves as he moves like a cornered animal. “Don’t make me! Please, I can’t do it!”
The desperation in his voice rips through you, and you can’t help but feel awful. Every instinct inside you screams to comfort him, to tell him it will be okay. But the truth is, it won’t be. There’s no escape from this. You’ve seen it too many times already. If you don’t get that key, you’re all going to die.
Your throat is tight, and the words feel like acid on your tongue as you step closer to him, trying to keep your voice steady. “Sunoo…listen to me. We…we don’t have a choice.” You swallow hard, the weight of what you’re about to say crushing you. “If we don’t get that key, we’re all dead. We need it. You know that. You’ve seen what happens here.”
Sunoo shakes his head furiously, his hands coming up to clutch his head as if trying to block out your words. “No, no, no…Please…There has to be another way.”
Jaehyunhis face is twisted in frustration. His fists clench and unclench, but you can see that same terrible understanding in his eyes. He knows there is no other way.
“There’s no time, Sunoo!” Jaehyun snaps, his voice harsh but cracking with the weight of the situation. “You heard him! If we don’t do this, we’re all going to end up like Dayoung and Heeseung. Do you want that?”
Sunoo’s face crumples, his hands dropping from his head as a sob escapes him. He shakes his head weakly, his voice just a titter or a whisper. “I don’t want to die…I don’t want to…” His wide, tear-filled eyes lock onto yours, pleading for some other solution, for some mercy that clearly no one is willing to give him.
You kneel in front of him, reaching out to gently take his nervous hands in yours. The moment your skin touches his, you feel how ice-cold he is, his body in shock. “I don’t want you to die either, Sunoo. None of us want this. But if we do this right, then you won’t. If you lose an eye you can still survive.”
His breath hitches, and you can see the conflict raging inside him. He doesn’t want to do it - no one would - but deep down, he knows you’re right. You can see it in his face, the crushing weight of the truth bearing down on him.
‘I can’t believe this is happening…” he whispers, his voice fragile, broken.
“I’m sorry…” You choke on the words. “I’m so sorry…but we need that key.”
For a long, horrible moment, the room is silent except for Sunoo’s ragged breathing. He’s staring at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nods. It’s the smallest, most reluctant gesture, but it’s enough to get the ball rolling.
Jaehyun, seeing the acceptance wash over Sunoo, lets out a harsh, shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. We can do this. We’ll…we’ll be quick, alright?”
But you all know there’s no way this will be quick. Not if you want him to live.
You scour the room, and Jaehyun eventually finds a rusted metal spoon, one he skidded across the floor in the manic panic of the last task. He holds it up, his hand trembling as he looks at it with disgust. The idea of using something so crude for this…it’s unthinkable. But you have no other choice.
Sunoo is seated against the wall, his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them tightly. His breathing is uneven, and the tears have dried on his cheeks but his quivering lips tells you the fear he’s feeling. His eyes are wide, staring off into space as if he’s trying to disassociate, trying to be anywhere but here. He knows what’s coming, and the terror is palpable and paralysing.
Quickly, Jaehyun places the spoon in your hand, dissolving himself of all responsibility in the matter. You don’t argue with him about it though, deciding that at least you can show some compassion in the moment, unlike someone…
“Sunoo, we’re going to do this together, okay? You’re not alone.” Your voice wavers, barely able to keep steady under the pressure.
He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze locked on the floor. But finally, he nods weakly. He looks up at you, eyes glistening with tears. “Just…do it quickly, please…”
You give him a reassuring - if be it fake - nod, but your hands begin to mirror hisnshaking form as you hold the spoon, the weight of what you’re about to do making your entire body feel cold. Jaehyun stands over you, watching intently.
“We have to be careful,” Jaehyun mutters, his voice strained. “We can’t mess this up.”
Ignoring Jaehyun, you and Sunoo look into one another's souls, knowing that there’s no careful way to do this. It’s going to hurt, no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself, and gently place your hand on the side of his head, positioning him. His breath hitches at your touch, and you can feel him trembling beneath your fingers, vibrations trepidation making your hand unsteady. You hate yourself for what you’re about to do to this innocent little lamb, but there’s no going back.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice cracking, and then you bring the spoon to his eye. “I am so, so sorry, baby.”
The second the cold metal touches his skin, Sunoo jerks instinctively, letting out a strangled whimper. “No… no… please-”
“It’ll be over soon!” Jaehyun snaps, his voice tight with panic and impatience. He isn’t a nurturing person, you can tell that much about the enigmatic man, but you guess he is trying to soothe the boy in his own, fucked up way.
You press the spoon against his lower eyelid, feeling the resistance as it digs into his flesh. Blood wells up immediately, dark and thick, as you force the spoon deeper, pushing it into the socket. Sunoo’s screams fill the room, high-pitched and desperate, his body convulsing in pain.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry! Shhh,” you let a few tears fall, voice jittering as you work, your hands slick with his blood which now drips freely from the socket. The flesh tears as you force the spoon in deeper, scraping against bone and wiggling it around to break the tether, until you feel the pop - the horrifying, wet pop - of his eye dislodging from the socket.
Sunoo’s screams reach a fever pitch, his hands clawing at the ground and your chest, his entire body thrashing in agony. Blood pours from his ruined eye, streaming down his face in thick rivulets, soaking his clothes, those cute characters on his hoodie now looking like they’ve failed to survive a Jason Voorhees attack.
You force yourself to keep going, tears blurring your vision, and with a sickening squelch, you pull the eyeball free, catching it in your hand as it flies free from its home. Blood drips from the dangling nerve, pooling on the floor as Sunoo’s sobs turn to broken gasps, his body convulsing in shock and pain. The once-beautiful eye now sits useless and mutilated.
“There…there…” you whisper, voice shaking. But it’s far from over.
With nervous fingers, you reach into the hollow space behind his eye, feeling the sticky, wet mess of blood and tissue. You dig deeper, wincing at the sound of Sunoo’s raw, guttural cries, apologising profusely along the way, until your fingers brush against something cold and hard.
The key.
Sunoo's soft, pitiful sobs bounce around the room as you lean closer, brushing your lips against his forehead and trailing down to kiss away the tears that spill from his remaining eye. His whole body trembles beneath you, the shock of the impromptu surgery overwhelming him, and you feel a fierce protectiveness welling up inside you. He’s like your little brother, fragile and broken, and all you want to do is shield him from the horrors that keep crashing down on him.
You whisper soothing words, your hands gently cradling his head, but it does little to comfort him. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, each one laboured as he fights to keep his grip on reality. You stroke his hair, once blonde now dying red with the blood on your hands.
Jaehyun, meanwhile, is moving swiftly. He yanks the other keys from Sunoo’s blood-soaked pocket, his face a mask of determination, and then reaches out to take the key you’re still holding, your fingers slick with blood. His hand lingers for just a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as if to say ‘good job’, but the compliment lacks conviction. He just wants out of here, and granted you do to, but a little sympathy for the boy in your arms wouldn’t go amiss.
The metal locks clink against each other as he hurriedly makes his way to the box and tries each key, his hands shaking but focused. He jams the first key into the lock, twists it with a click, and tosses it aside. The second follows suit, then the third, each unlocking with a sharp clank that reverberates through the room. Your heart pounds in your chest with every click, the sound marking your descent deeper into this nightmare.
When he reaches the final key - the one you pulled from behind Sunoo’s eye - he hesitates, his thumb brushing over the bloodied surface. He turns to look back at Sunoo, whose broken body is slumped against the wall, pale and drenched in blood. Sunoo’s single eye is half-closed as he fights the sleep that pulls him. Jaehyun’s jaw tightens, and then with a final, decisive twist, he unlocks the last lock and throws the box open.
Inside, the contents are far from what any of you expected. A thin, transparent tube lies coiled neatly next to a length of what looks like wire - flimsy, almost like dental floss. Jaehyun’s face contorts in confusion as he pulls them out, holding the tube and wire up to the dim light.
“What the fuck? How are we supposed to get blood with this?” he mutters, examining the odd materials in his hands. His voice wavers slightly, betraying the exhaustion and frustration that’s building beneath the surface.
You tear your gaze away from Sunoo’s spent body, trying to focus on what Jaehyun is holding and your mind races, trying to make sense of the strange tools laid out before you. Honestly, you expected a knife or a saw, but not this.
Sunoo, still groggy and weak from the pain, turns his head toward Jaehyun, squinting with his one remaining eye. He looks disoriented, his face pale and drawn, but his voice comes out in a weak rasp. “Put the tube…in my socket…” His words are a breathless whisper, as though each one costs him more strength than he has to give.
“There’s not enough blood in there, baby,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice calm, though every part of you is screaming. “We need more than that…” You pause, staring at the box, dread curling in your stomach. “What does it say on the box?” you ask, hoping there’s some instruction that might make this clearer. “How deep is it?”
Jaehyun glances down at the lid of the box, his brows furrowing as he reads the small print engraved there. His lips tighten as he processes it. “It says…the container can hold 1 litre.”
Your heart sinks at the words. A litre of blood. That’s more than any eye socket could ever give, no matter how gruesome the idea. You cast another glance at the tube in Jaehyun’s hand, and that horrible idea solidifies even further in your mind. You’d need to draw blood directly from someone’s veins, from their body - slowly, methodically, until the box fills with enough to unlock the next stage.
“Jesus…” Jaehyun mutters, running a hand through his hair. His eyes dart back to Sunoo, then to you. “We need to decide. There’s no other way, is there?”
You shake your head, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a boulder. “No. There isn’t.”
Sunoo turns his head slightly, trying to make sense of what you’re saying, his face drenched with sweat as he goes through a cold flush. He’s still coming to terms with the loss of his eye, his body limp from the trauma, but he knows there’s more to this task and he has to push through.
His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but no words come out at first. His breath is ragged, and for a moment, you think he might pass out from the stress. But then, he swallows, his throat bobbing, and he looks at you, resignation written all over his face.
“I’ll…I’ll do it,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “If it’s…if it’s the only way…”
“Sunoo, no-” You start to protest, but the look he gives you is so filled with sorrow and determination that it makes your heart break all over again.
“I can,” he breathes, shaking his head weakly. “I’m already…dead anyway. It might as well be me…”
Jaehyun steps forward, his eyes softening as he kneels beside Sunoo. “We’re not asking you to die, Sunoo. We just need enough blood to get through this. We’ll stop before it’s too much, alright?” His voice is low, almost gentle, trying to reassure him, but you can see the strain on his face.
None of you are sure how far this will go.
Sunoo takes a shuddering breath and closes his eye, giving the faintest of nods. He knows there’s no escape, no mercy here, and it crushes your soul to see him like this. You can only begin to imagine how vibrant and charismatic he is outwith the circumstances.
You carefully wipe the blood from his cheek and cradle his face in your hands. You can feel his body trembling beneath your fingers, the fear coursing through him and shock from the blood loss overtaking his nerves, but he’s trying to be brave.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, voice breaking. You wish there were something else you could say, something more you could do to make this easier. But there’s nothing.
“If you make it out, can you…please tell my mum I love her?” It’s a simple last request, but one that tugs at your heartstrings.
Tell my mum I love her. Such a simple, human request - one that breaks you more than any of the blood and horror surrounding you. You press your forehead against his gently, tears brimming in your eyes as you try to find some semblance of strength to give him the answer he needs, even if you are unsure about the fate.
“You’ll tell her yourself, Sunoo,” you whisper back, though the words feel hollow even as you say them. You both know the chances are slim but you cling to the lie because the truth is too unbearable.
His lips quiver, and for a moment, he tries to offer you a smile but it falters before it fully forms. Instead, his eye glimmers with dread and tears, his breath shallow as each exhale hitches painfully in his chest.
“We…we can do this,” you continue, voice shaking. “We can cut through your leg with the wire. I saw it in a movie once.” You don’t know if the suggestion is even realistic, but the desperation in your voice makes it sound plausible - you suppose anything can be justified if it means surviving this. “There’s a lot of blood in the leg…and then we can tourniquet it. We can use Jaehyun’s tie and wrap it around tightly to stop the blood after we fill that stupid box.”
Sunoo’s eye widens, the reality of what you’re suggesting setting in. His whole body tenses, his remaining hand clutching weakly at your sleeve, holding onto you for some last semblance of comfort. The fear is obvious in him, but so is his trust in you. It’s the worst thing - knowing he trusts you to guide him through this but also knowing you’re about to lead him into more pain.
“I know,” you murmur, brushing your thumb against his blood-smeared cheek. “I know it sounds fucking awful and scary…but I promise I’ll stop the bleeding before anything bad happens, okay? You’re not alone in this.”
His chest shudders with a sharp, ragged breath, already foreshadowing his fate with a death rattle. Still, he gives a shallow but definitive nod; he’s surrendering to the outcome that has formed in his head, giving up his life for you and Jaehyun, and it breaks something in you.
Jaehyun watches from the side, his face a stony mask, though you can tell he’s struggling, the weight of what you’re about to do hanging over all of you all like a death sentence. He moves closer, his voice low and controlled, though there’s a slight undercurrent underneath it. “Let’s get it over with. The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be.”
You nod, trying to swallow down the bile rising in your throat. Jaehyun holds out the thin wire, its appearance belying the horrific task it’s going to perform.
Laying back against the wall, Sunoo’s body stiffen, his breaths coming in quick, panicked bursts. His lips are dry and cracked, his whole form trembles as the fear tears him apart from the inside.
“Sunoo,” you say softly, “look at me. Just focus on me, yeah? We’re going to get through this.”
His eye locks onto yours, wide and full of terror, but he nods weakly, his chest rising and falling erratically. His lips quiver, his breaths shallow and quick, as he braces himself for what’s coming next.
You quickly take off his jeans, discarding them and gently lifting his thigh over the wire, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. The thought that in a few minutes his leg will be severed and bone sawed makes your hands shake, but you force yourself to keep moving. You can’t falter. Not now.
Jaehyun steps in to help, holding Sunoo’s ankle firmly and holding his leg in place. He glances at you, his jaw set. “Ready?”
You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
That might be the biggest lie you’ve ever said…or one of them at least.
“I’m so sorry, Sunoo,” you whisper, and with a deep breath, you begin to saw.
The wire digs into his flesh, slicing through the skin and muscle like a knife through butter, its flimsy appearance teaching you never to judge a book by its cover.
Sunoo screams - a raw, gritting sound that rips through the room, filling the air with his agony. The sound pierces you to your core, every second of his suffering echoing in your head as the wire cuts deeper, exposing the red tissue beneath the skin.
Blood spills instantly, thick and dark, pouring from the wound and pooling on the floor. It’s warm, sticky, and the metallic of it all stifles the room, making your stomach churn.
Sunoo thrashes in your grip, his hands clutching at the ground as his scream dissolves into sobs. He’s in agony and his body convulses as the wire digs deeper into his flesh. His face slick with sweat, his eye squeezed shut as he tries to block out the pain, but it’s useless.
You keep pulling the wire back and forth, your hands covered in blood, trembling as the wire grinds through his leg, severing muscle, tendon, and bone. It’s a gruesome, horrific scene, the wet, squelching sound of flesh being torn apart filling your ears.
“Hold on, Sunoo,” you whisper for his comfort, though your voice shakes. “Just a little longer…”
His cries are ragged and throat hoarse from screaming, his whole body is shaking violently, his face twisted in pain. You can see the life draining out of him, the blood loss taking its toll, and you know you have to act fast.
With a final, desperate pull, the wire severs through the leg with a sickening slce, and Sunoo’s leg comes free. His scream echoes through the room, a sound so full of pain and fright that it feels like it’s tearing your soul apart.
Sunoo is barely conscious now, his body limp, his eye fluttering as he teeters on the edge of passing out. His breaths are shallow and rapid, and his face is ashen, the life draining from him with every second.
You drop the wire, horrified by what you’ve just done, but there’s no time to dwell on it because you have to finish this. You have to fill the box or it will all be for nothing.
Jaehyun grabs the tube, plunging it into the open wound, sucking on it to get the flow started, and soon enough the blood begins to flow through it, filling the container. The sight of it makes your chest tighten but you force yourself to watch, to make sure it works. Thick and dark crimson pumps into the small tube you’ve inserted.
It starts slowly - drop by drop, the blood pooling in the bottom of the box, each splash of liquid a reminder of the life draining from him. It feels like time is slipping through your fingers, just like the life from Sunoo’s body.
“Stay with me, Sunoo,” you whisper, voice breaking as the tears build in your eyes. You can barely see through them, but you refuse to let them fall. Not now. You reach out, carefully wiping away the blood thats still falling from his socket and smeared over his clammy skin.
Sunoo’s one good eye flutters weakly open, overridden with pain, yet still trying to focus on you. The sight of him like this - broken, scared - it tears at your heart in ways you can’t describe. “I’m sorry,” you say again, voice cracking under the weight of your guilt. You wish there was something, anything, that could make this easier, but there isn’t.
“Tell me it will be okay,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet the words hit you like a freight train. You swallow hard, a sob rising in your throat, but you push it down. You can’t promise him a lie, but you can’t vocalise the truth either.
You steal a glance at the box as the blood continues to flow into the container, the level slowly creeping higher. It’s almost full, almost there but it feels like it’s taking forever. And Sunoo…Sunoo is fading faster than you can process.
Jaehyun watches in tense silence, his knuckles white as he grips the tube, his face hard but his eyes betraying the same fear and helplessness you feel. His jaw clenches as he steals a look at Sunoo, then back at the box, calculating the blood flow, his mind racing against the ticking clock that seems to be counting down to Sunoo’s last breath.
Finally, the blood reaches the top of the container, the dark liquid filling it to the brim and Jaehyun curses under his breath, his eyes flickering to you, waiting for you to take the next step.
But Sunoo’s body has already gone limp. His breathing has slowed to a near stop.
“Sunoo…” you murmur, panic rising in your chest. You can’t lose him. Not after this. Not now.
“Quick!” you blurt, hands fumbling as you reach for the tie around Jaehyun’s neck. You pull it off in one fluid motion, shaking, and wrap it tightly around his leg, above the gaping wound. You’re gripping it so desperately that you lose sensation in your fingers, but the blood just keeps coming despite your efforts.
“Come on,” you beg, tears streaming freely now, desperate to stop the vicious flow of blood. “Please. Please just hold on!”
You knot the tie with shaking fingers, doing everything you can to slow the torrent, but it’s already too late. His body is cold beneath your hands and the life that was once in his eyes is slowly fading away.
The blood has poured out too quickly, too much of it lost in too short a time. You glance at the box and see it screaming victory - but at what cost? The success feels hollow, a sick joke in the face of Sunoo’s fading life.
“Sunoo, please…please stay with me. You’re going to be okay. You have to be…”
As you mutter the words, you can feel his body grow still, his breath stutters and falters. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your tears falling onto his cold cheek. You kiss away the blood and tears, desperate to bring him comfort, to let him know that he isn’t alone in these final moments.
Sunoo’s lips part, a faint sound escaping him, but it’s not a word - it’s just a weak, broken breath. His chest rises one last time, then falls with finality, and you feel the last of his warmth leave him.
“No…” Your voice is barely a whisper, breaking under the weight of your grief. You can’t look away from him, even as the silence fills the room, thick and suffocating.
Jaehyun steps back, his hands falling to his sides as he watches the scene unfold. The tie around Sunoo’s leg is soaked with blood, useless now and only acting as a symbol of your failure to save him.
The door creaks open, signalling the end of the task, but there’s no relief, no victory. Only loss. Only the hollow, aching void left behind as Sunoo’s body lies motionless before you.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper one last time, though it feels empty now. You hold onto him, even though he’s already gone, the weight of his loss crushing your chest, making it hard to breathe.
_______
The door that you hoped would lead to freedom opens into something far worse. Instead of the grim, blood-soaked chaos you’ve become accustomed to, you're met with a blinding light so harsh that it feels like needles piercing your eyes.
You squint, trying to adjust, and the scene before you slowly comes into focus. It’s jarring - the sterile whiteness of the room, the gleaming tiles that cover the walls, floors, and ceiling, all so clean, so pristine, it feels unnatural. There's no trace of death here, no hint of the violence that has marred your every step. The air smells faintly of disinfectant, as though someone had meticulously scrubbed away any sign of life.
Your eyes are drawn to the centre of the room where a steel table sits. Its surface gleams and has two folding chairs on either side. The setting feels clinical, almost surgical, like a place where emotions have no home, and only cold, calculated decisions are made.
As your vision clears fully, you notice something on the table. It stands out against the spotless surroundings, its presence contrasting.
A gun. Black, sleek, and menacing, it rests atop the table like a predator waiting to strike. It glistens under the fluorescent lights, polished to perfection for this exact moment - a moment you don’t know if you’re prepared for.
Without hesitation, Jaehyun is the first to move. His eyes lock onto the weapon, drawn to it like a moth to a flame, his hand reaching out to grab it. His fingers are mere inches away when the room is filled with a slow, deliberate clap, echoing off the walls with a mockery that makes your stomach twist.
Both of you freeze, turning towards the sound, your hearts hammering in sync. There, stepping calmly into the room, is Jaeyun, the man responsible for all this suffering. But this time, he’s different. The game show host energy that once radiated from him has dimmed, replaced with an eerie calm. His movements are fluid and his face wears an expression of utter contentment.
“Congratulations on making it this far,” he says smoothly, his voice carrying twisted pride. “It was a tough interview, huh?” His smirk widens as he speaks, his eyes flicking between you and Jaehyun, watching your reactions like a predator savouring its prey’s final moments.
The words hit Jaehyun like gasoline on fire. He sees red, the pent-up rage, fear, and exhaustion now coming to blow. With a feral growl, he lunges at Jaeyun, fists clenched, ready to pummel him into oblivion. But before he can reach him, Jaehyun’s body jerks violently. His scream of outrage is cut short and replaced with one of agony as he collapses to the ground, muscles spasming uncontrollably.
You stare in horror, your brain struggling to comprehend what the fuck just happened. Jaeyun’s face remains neutral and his expression almost bored as he watches Jaehyun writhe on the floor. He looks at you, shrugging with casual indifference. “You didn’t think I’d walk in here without some form of protection, did you?” His voice is soft and conversational, like he’s discussing the weather and not the violent collapse of the man before you.
Jaehyun’s body finally stills, but he’s left trembling on the ground. With sheer effort, he manages to push himself up onto his knees, his face contorted in pain and fury.
“What the fuck was that?” he spits out, his tone raw with rage.
Jaeyun raises an eyebrow, almost amused by Jaehyun’s defiance. “Just a little insurance,” he says with a smirk. “A key in Sunoo’s eye wasn’t the only action my medical table got.”
You blink in confusion, trying to process his words. Jaeyun, ever the showman, sighs dramatically and points at the back of his neck. “I installed a little chip into each of you, right at the base of your skull. A ‘zapper,’ if you wanna call it that. I didn’t think I’d need to use it, but it’s nice to have, don’t you think? Keeps things…civilised.”
Digging his fingers into the back of his neck, Jaehyun’s expression twists with shock and anger. “You chipped us?” The words shake as he spits them out, his eyes wild with disbelief. “You’ve tortured us, and you’ve got the nerve to call this civilised?”
Jaeyun’s smirk widens, enjoying Jaehyun’s reaction. “Tortured? Naaah, torture is messy. I gave you choices. Every step of the way. This?” He points to Jaehyun’s shaking body. “This is just an incentive to play by the rules.”
“This is a fucking game to you,” Jaehyun growls through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”
“It’s not a game, Jaehyun. It’s an interview. And you’ve done so well making it to the final round.” He gestures toward the gun resting on the table, its dark presence looming like a shadow over the room. “Call this the work trial.”
The silence that follows is thick, suffocating, as the weight of what comes next begins to sink in. You can feel the tension crackling in the air between the three of you, like a wire pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. The gun, once a distant threat, now feels like an inevitability.
Jaeyun’s voice cuts through the tense silence, as smooth as ever. “Can you both take a seat, please?”
You glance at Jaehyun, then at the gun resting ominously on the table, before you both lower yourselves into the cold metal chairs across from one another.
The gun, gleaming under the fluorescent light, is the unwelcomed third party in this macabre meeting. You can feel the weight of it, the way it pulls all the air out of the room, making it difficult to think or breathe. Across from you, Jaehyun is just as tense, his eyes flicking between you and the weapon. Although, while you’re scared of the outcome, Jaehyun looks determined, willing to do anything.
Jaeyun leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, observing the way you both wriggle in discomfort, a fun source of entertainment. “Now, this is the easiest task of all. No wicked schemes or brilliantly designed traps.” His tone is boastful, an artist revelling in his own masterpieces. “All you have to do…is shoot.”
His words hang in the air, heavy and cold like a death sentence. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, your gaze darting from Jaeyun to Jaehyun and back to the gun. There’s a pit forming in your stomach, because whatever happens next, you know you’re going to be unprepared every minute of it.
“The rules are simple,” Jaeyun continues, his voice disturbingly cheerful. “One of you picks up the gun and shoots the other. I need to make sure you’ll kill who I tell you to.” He pauses to gage your reactions, and when he sees your shaking hands and Jaehyun’s mutter of disbelief under his breath, there’s a mocking lilt to his voice. “C’mon, don’t make this harder than it needs to be, guys. I mean, you’ve already killed before, right, Jaehyun? Why hesitate now?”
Jaehyun freezes and face hardens as Jaeyun’s words strike a nerve. The shift is subtle, but you notice it - the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darken with something unreadable. You furrow your brow, confused and suspicious.
“What is he talking about?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your eyes search Jaehyun’s face, looking for answers, but he avoids your gaze, his shoulders tightening.
“Nothing,” Jaehyun mutters with his voice now gruff and defensive.
Jaeyun’s smile spreads wider, almost gleeful. “Oh, you wanna keep it a secret? Okay, that’s fine.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes are gleaming with malice. “But, Y/N, he has killed someone before. What’s to say he won’t do the same to you? You should consider taking the shot. Self-preservation, you know?”
With your mind swirling with doubt, you stare deep into the man’s deadpanned face. The Jaehyun you’ve fought beside, suffered with, suddenly seems like a stranger. To be fair, he is a stranger, yoy don’t know him from adam.
Jaehyun’s fists clench on the table, his knuckles white. “Don’t listen to him,” he snaps, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “He’s just trying to get inside your head.”
“Am I?” Jaeyun’s tone is laced with cruel taunt now. He takes a step forward, his eyes shining with the pleasure of watching your doubt grow. “Or maybe I’m just telling the truth. I mean, how well do you know him? He’s desperate, Y/N. Desperate men will do anything to survive...ain’t that right, JaeJae?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Jaehyun growls, obviously not content with the nickname nor the underlining accusations.
Jaeyun, of course, is unfazed, his smirk never faltering. “What’s wrong, Jaehyun? Can’t handle the truth?” He leans in slightly, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Face it - you’ll do anything to get ahead. All you have to do is pull that trigger, and you get to live. Easy, right?”
Every part of you wants to scream, to run, to make this nightmare end, but you’re trapped. Trapped between Jaeyun’s manipulations, Jaehyun’s anger, and the gun on the table.
For a moment, everything is still. Then Jaehyun moves.
In a blur of motion, Jaehyun’s hand shoots forward, grabbing the gun with a speed that startles you. He stands, his chair screeching as it scrapes against the floor, and before you can even react, he’s pointing the barrel straight at your head.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he strainly mutters, a hint of regret lacing his tone. “I’m more valuable alive than dead. I’ll make sure this bastard pays, for all of us.”
It doesn’t take him two seconds to pull the trigger, and the moment his does, time itself seems to slow. The world around you shrinks to the narrow tunnel of focus between you and the gun, its evil barrel aimed squarely between your eyes.
The sterile white walls reverberate the sudden echo of violence, making the shot even louder, more deafening. The bright lights overhead seem to flicker for just a second, casting shadows across Jaehyun’s face as he stares at you, frozen in place. The gun in his hand shakes violently, his knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping it.
For him, the world has gone silent. His ears are ringing, his heart pounding so loudly that he can hear absolutley nothing else.
You, however, remain perfectly still.
The moment stretches on forever. The smell of gunpowder lingers in the air, sharp and bitter, mingling with the sterile scent of the room. You watch Jaehyun’s face twist from anger and sorrow to confusion. His brows furrow and eyes deplete in size as the seconds tick by and the smoke from the gunshot dissipates.
He blinks, disbelief spreading across his features. His chest rises and falls as the enormity of what should have just happened sinks in. Key word being should.
But you’re still there. Sitting calmly, untouched. Not a drop of blood, not a flicker of pain or fear on your face. In fact, there’s something else entirely.
Your lips part in a smile, a soft laugh bubbling up from deep inside you, completely at odds with the life-or-death moment that just unfolded. The sound cuts through the tension like a knife, light and eerie in the quiet aftermath of the shot. Jaehyun flinches at the noise, his eyes darting wildly between you and the weapon in his hand. His pulse quickens, his breath hitching, and you can see the tremor in his hand growing stronger as he tries to make sense of the situation.
He blinks again, harder this time, as if trying to wake himself from a nightmare. But no matter how much he wills it, you’re still sitting there, your expression composed, your eyes gleaming with something - something he can't quite place. It’s not fear. It’s not shock. It’s not even anger.
It’s amusement.
“What the hell…” he breathes, barely above a whisper. His words are broken, disjointed as his mind struggles to form any coherent thought. “I shot you. I…I shot you.”
You tilt your head, your smile widening as you lean back in your chair. There’s a smugness in your posture, a confidence that sends a chill down Jaehyun’s spine. His heart is racing, his chest tightening with a feeling he can’t quite describe. Fear? Confusion? Betrayal? Maybe all three.
“For a detective,” you murmur, your voice low and mocking, “you sure miss the mark.”
He stares at you like you’ve just spoken in a foreign language. “What-what are you talking about?” His voice wavers, the certainty he once had crumbling as the pieces of the puzzle scatter before him.
Your soft giggle echoes in the room again, and you watch as his hands shake, the gun slowly lowering from where it had been aimed at your head. He looks down at it, something he uses almost every day now something he can’t understand.
“I don’t get it…” His voice is weak now, the bravado from moments ago completely gone. The gun in his hand feels heavy, useless almost. “Why are you - what’s going on?”
Before he can even gather a clump of understanding, Jaeyun’s lips brush against your head, soft and tender, the casual affection jarring against the brutal backdrop of the room,making Jaehyun wonder if it’s the smoke or the panic of the ‘work trial’ that’s making him see illusions.
"Good job, baby," Jaeyun murmurs, his words oozing with pride.
“Baby?” Jaehyun echoes, his voice strangled with disbelief.
You stand up slowly, brushing off your clothes and shaking off the last remnants of the innocent facade you wore. Now, you’re free to reveal the truth, and the satisfaction rolls off you in waves. You tilt your head, eyes shining as you lock onto his shattered expression. “What?” you ask, pouting in mockery. “Didn’t suspect me? This is why you’re so terrible at your job, Detective Jeong.”
Jaehyun’s face twists in horror as your words settle in. You were in on this. All of it. “What sick joke is this?” he growls, desperation creeping into each syllable, thick and bitter.
You giggle at his choice of words, filling the sterile room with an eerie playfulness that makes the bewildered man’s skin crawl. "Sick? I don’t know if I’d call it sick.” You glance over at Jaeyun, who’s watching with an amused smirk, before turning back to Jaehyun. "It's so fucking funny from where I’m standing."
Jaehyun’s body jerks as he tries to push himself to his feet, the fire of defiance still burning inside him. But Jaeyun casually pulls out the small remote from his pocket and presses the button without hesitation once again. The sharp, electric snap crackles through the air, and Jaehyun screams just as before, collapsing back into his seat. His muscles lock, spasming as the shock courses through his nervous system.
Keeping his thumb on the button just a fraction longer than necessary, Jaeyun watches with an almost clinical detachment as Jaehyun’s body finally stills. His breath is ragged, and he coughs, choking on the pain. “W-why?” he hisses out, his voice barely more than a rasp, his whole body trembling from the shock.
You casually sit upon the steel table, crossing your legs with the same nonchalance you’d have if you were sitting in a café. Your smile is soft, almost affectionate, as you look down at him. "Well, I hate to pin blame on people, but this is actually your fault."
Jaehyun’s brow knit together, his mind struggling to process everything. "What...what do you mean? How the fuck is it my fault?" His voice is hoarse, broken.
“You see, we know how long you’ve been after Jaeyun. Two years, is it? You've been so relentless, so close, but never quite enough," you give as half an answer and keep your tone light, so scarily similar to Jaeyun’s, yet you sound more evil. Perhaps it’s because Jaehyun not 5 minutes ago had perceived you as a scared girl, trapped in a nightmare.
"My baby has been following you, actually. Quite closely. You spent years interviewing every possible witness, arresting suspects, trying to catch the ‘Midnight Murderer’ and yet, despite all your efforts, you couldn’t quite figure out who or where he was." You pause, watching as Jaehyun’s expression shifts, the pieces clicking together painfully. “Then, you got a tip that he was hiding in the Avenue Garage. You were so desperate for his blood, so eager to finally catch your big break, that you didn’t even question it. You just barged in and killed the first guy you saw.”
Jaehyun’s face pales, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes widen with realisation dawning slowly but surely, like a weight sinking into his gut. “No…” he breathes out, shaking his head, as if denying it could change the truth.
You lean in close, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you whisper, “But it wasn’t him, was it, Jaehyun? You knew it right after you pulled the trigger. The guilt hit you like a freight train, but yet, you still called it in. You claimed your hollow victory and got promoted from Officer to Detective.”
His eyes glaze over with the memory of that night - his hands trembling over the body of the man he killed, the overwhelming rush of panic and regret he’d shoved down deep just to survive the lie. It all happened so quickly, his head not thinking clearly - or practically not at all - just trying to find a means to justify his actions.
“And yet," Jaeyun pipes up, picking up the gun from the table and twirling it effortlessly in his fingers, "you couldn’t let me go, could you? You’ve been trailing me in secret, obsessed, haunted by the ghost of your mistake.” He chuckles darkly. “That’s why you answered the ad I so perfectly orchestrated to catch your interest. Cleaning up a ‘midnight mess,’ right?”
Jaehyun swallows thickly though his mouth is so dry it does nothing for him, his heart thudding in his chest. His worst fear, the nightmare he’s tried to bury is now staring him in the face. His entire career has been twisted into this sick, elaborate game. “So it’s both of you?” he croaks, voice trembling as he finally connects the dots.
“Oh, not me,” you giggle, twirling a lock of your hair with playful ease. “I’m a new-ish addition.”
“The best addition,” Jaeyun coos, kissing your temple and then your lips so lovingly you almost melt onto the table.
Jaehyun’s face contorts with disgust, his eyes darting between you and Jaeyun, trying to find some sense of logic in this twisted reality. “And how did he drag you into this?” he spits out, desperation bleeding through his words as he tries to prolong the conversation, desperately begging his mind for an idea that will help him escape out of this nightmare.
You lean closer, your breath fanning over his face, intimate and unnerving all at once. “Oh, it didn’t take much convincing,” you whisper, smirking as your eyes dart to Jaeyun. "He has a very persuasive tongue." You wink before sitting back up, taking the gun from Jaeyun’s hand with a playful twirl. “That, and, well...you killed my brother.”
“What? When…when did i-”
You smile sweetly, almost pitying the man before you. “That’s right, detective. The man you murdered in cold blood - he was my brother.”
The truth hits him like he just got punched by Muhammad Ali, and for the first time, Jaehyun feels truly, utterly defeated. You can see the exact moment Jaehyun breaks. His expression goes blank, his face ghostly pale as the truth settles over him, suffocating and inescapable. He opens his mouth to say anything but no words come. Because what can he say to a bereaved family member of a man whose blood is on his hands?
"My brother was innocent, Jaehyun," you continue, and for the first time, your voice trembles, just a little. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A good man, with a family, with dreams.” You pause, staring at the floor in an attempt to find some strength there. “He wasn’t a criminal, wasn’t a part of anything dark or twisted, he didn’t even have a fucking parking ticket. But you didn’t care. You didn’t even stop to think. You were too blinded by your ambition, too eager to make a name for yourself. You saw a body, and you pulled the trigger. ”
Jaehyun winces as your words slap him straight across his cheek. His breath quickens, his mind racing back to that night, the moment he saw a shadow move in the dimly lit garage, the way his heart pounded in his ears. He hadn’t thought twice before firing. He couldn’t afford to. It was best for catching the Midnight Murderer, or so he told himself. But now, staring into your eyes - those eyes filled with fury and loss - he knows there’s no excuse that can absolve him.
“And after you killed him,” you whisper, your voice growing hard, “you didn’t even have the decency to admit your mistake. You lied. You built your career off of that lie. How does it feel, detective? Knowing that every time you got promoted, every time you were praised for your ‘brilliant work,’ it was all built on the blood of an innocent man? My brother has been painted a murderer all because of you.”
Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, forcing them down. You won’t cry. Not here. Not for him. Instead, you steel yourself, wrapping your pain in a cocoon of rage.
Jaeyun who is standing just behind you, places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently as he grounds you and massaging the pain away as best he can. His touch sends a wave of warmth through your body, a reminder that you're not alone in this. You lean into him slightly, drawing strength from his presence.
Jaehyun’s voice finally breaks through the silence, shaky and weak. "So what now?" His voice is hollow, like he already knows the answer, but he asks anyway, clinging to the last shreds of hope. "You gonna kill me?"
You smile, a cold and calculating curve of your lips. “Better,” you say, that peak of vulnerability you showed now pushed back to make way for your wicked side to take over once again. “You’re going to kill yourself. And we’re going to watch.”
Jaeyun steps forward as you hop off the table, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin, his breath warm against your neck. “You did so well, my love,” he murmurs softly, nuzzling into your hair. His voice is sweet, intimate, that side of him reserved only for you.
Jaehyun stares at the two of you, his eyes widening in disbelief. “And if I don’t?”
Jaeyun chuckles softly against your skin, his lips brushing your ear as he replies, “Then we release all your dirty little cover-ups.” His voice is still blasé. “Because, Detective Jeong, there’s a lot more than just my girls’ brother.”
Jaehyun’s breath hitches, pinpointing the moment the words sink in - the moment he realises just how deep the hole he’s in really is. His mind races, replaying every cover-up, every questionable decision, every corner he cut to get to where he is. It wasn’t just your brother. There were others. He had made too many mistakes, too many wrong choices. And now they’ve all come to bite him in the ass.
"Did you think it was just my brother we knew about?" You ask, your tone deceptively light as you tilt your head and study his expression, watching the colour drain from his face. "No, Jaehyun. You’ve been sloppy. So many good people - innocent people - fell because of you. We have everything. All the proof. Every lie, every falsified report, every life ruined by your hands. And all we have to do is press send."
Jaehyun’s eyes widen in terror. “No,” he breathes, his voice cracking. He starts to shake his head, as if denying it could somehow make it untrue. "Please…no."
“You could’ve stopped after my brother. You could’ve fixed it. But you didn’t. You kept going. You chose this.”
Trembling now, the detective’s entire body shaking with the weight of his sins. He swallows thickly, mind spinning as he desperately tries to find a way out, but there’s no escape. Not now. Not anymore. If he refuses, his entire career, his reputation, everything he’s built will go up in flames. And the world will know him for what he truly is - a fraud, a murderer.
“You never wanted this life, did you, Jaehyun?” you whisper, your voice soft, almost sympathetic. “You wanted to be a hero. But somewhere along the way, you got lost. You let the pressure, the ambition, the fear of failure consume you. You couldn’t afford to make mistakes, right? But the mistakes just kept piling up.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, his hands fisting in his hair, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I didn’t…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just…I couldn’t-"
“You couldn’t afford to be wrong,” you finish for him, nodding as if you understand. “But now, there’s no way out. You have two choices, Jaehyun. Kill yourself, or we expose you for what you really are. Either way, your life is over.”
Jaeyun moves around you, stepping toward Jaehyun with a cold, predatory smile. He kneels down in front of him, swapping the blanks for real bullets in the magazine of the pistol. “You see, Detective, you’ve already lost. The only decision left is how much pain you want to feel on the way out.
Every instinct in Detective Jeong screams to fight, to resist, but deep down, he knows. He knows there’s no escaping this. His hands shake violently, the weight of his choices now crushing him.
“You’re fucking monsters. How dare you lecture me when you kill innocent people all the time! It’s hypocritical!”
A cold laugh escapes your lips and you step closer, leaning down so you’re eye-level with him, letting your eyes glimmer with a blend of amusement and scorn. “Hypocritical? Oh, hun, we kill for fun, we know we are evil. But you act innocent, gain from the lives you steal. You’ve made your entire career on the backs of the dead and innocent. You’re the real monster.”
Jaehyun’s breath hitches, and for a moment, you think you see regret flicker in his eyes, but it’s quickly swallowed by anger. “I had no choice! I was trying to do my job! You think I wanted this?” His voice rises, the desperation spilling out of him like a dam bursting. “You think I wanted to become what I am? I didn’t know it was him! I didn’t-”
“Exactly,” you interrupt sharply, straightening up. “You didn’t know because you didn’t care enough to find out. You were too busy fucking chasing glory, too focused on your own pathetic ambition to see the truth right in front of you. But now you have a choice to make, and this time, it’s not about your career. It’s about your life.”
“So, this is it?” he rasps, his voice cracking under the strain. “You think you can just toy with me and I’ll roll over?”
“Toy with you?” You scoff, placing a hand on Jaeyun’s arm, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. “No, this is about consequences, Jaehyun. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and whether that means taking the easy way out or letting us destroy you…well, that’s entirely up to you.”
Jaehyun’s hands shake as he grips the gun tighter, his knuckles going white. “I can’t-”
“But you can,” Jaeyun interrupts smoothly, lowering himself closer, the gun now resting against his thigh. “You can end this, Detective. You can make this your final act of bravery. You can take the burden off your shoulders.”
“And leave you both unscathed? You think I’ll just sacrifice myself to protect your twisted little game?” Jaehyun sneers, his voice gaining a hint of strength. But it’s a facade, a last-ditch effort to regain control.
“Oh, it’s not about protecting us,” you say, tilting your head slightly, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It’s about protecting yourself. The truth will come out eventually. Your secrets will spill, and trust me, it won’t be pretty. If you have any semblance of dignity left, this is your best option. But if you refuse,” you lean in, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “you’ll find yourself at the center of a scandal bigger than you could ever imagine. Your career will go up in flames, and you’ll be left with nothing but the ghosts of those you’ve wronged.”
You step back, glancing at Jaeyun, who is watching Jaehyun with a predatory gaze, a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes. “So, what will it be, Detective?”
You wave the gun in Jaehyun’s face, your movements slow and deliberate, offering him a priceless gift. His eyes follow the barrel intently as it sways in front of him. Shame flickers in his expression, but it’s quickly replaced by something darker - his pride, rising like a beast refusing to be caged.
His mind is a battlefield, caught between the unbearable truth of his crimes and the desperate need to preserve the image he’s built. Hero. Detective. A man untainted by the blood on his hands. He’d rather die with that lie intact than face the disgrace of being unmasked as a villain.
His shaking hand reaches out, fingers ghosting over the cool metal of the gun you’re dangling before him. He takes it, trembling as though the weight of the weapon is the weight of all his lies finally coming back to take revenge.
As he raises the barrel under his chin, pressing it to the fragile skin there, his eyes glisten, but whether it’s from fear or a final surge of regret, you can’t tell.
Jaeyun watches him with quiet fascination and joy, his lips curling into a cruel smile. There’s no sympathy in the room, only cold satisfaction as Jaehyun contemplates his final act.
You and Jaeyun exchange a mocking glance, and then you lift your hands, giving a small, sarcastic wave. “Goodbye, Detective~” you mock in sing song.
Jaehyun’s grip tightens, his knuckles paling. His teeth grit together as his finger hesitates on the trigger, the seconds dragging out like an eternity. His face twists into a mask of anger and despair - remorse simmering just beneath the surface, but drowned out by the relentless need to protect his pride.
“I hope you both fucking rot in hell.”
With one last shuddering breath, he pulls the trigger.
The gunshot echoes through the room, deafening in its finality. His body jerks, his head snapping back as blood and bone splatter the walls behind him. He collapses in a lifeless heap, eyes still open, reflecting the briefest remnants of the man he was - or pretended to be.
As the bounce of the gunshot fades into silence, you finally let out a long, shuddering breath. All the tension that had built up over the course of this cat and mouse game unravels, leaving you feeling light, almost weightless. It’s finally fucking over. You can hardly believe it.
Jaeyun spins you around, his hands gentle as they pull you away from the gruesome sight, forcing your gaze away from Jaehyun's crumpled body. His expression softens, a loving twinkle in his eyes. “How do you feel, baby?”
The sense of victory allows a grin to stretch across your face as you finally allow yourself to revel in it. “Fucking fantastic,” you reply, the words leaving your lips in a breathless rush.
You can’t believe you survived - not just this, but everything that came before. All the games, all the manipulation, all the close calls. Deep down, you know Jaeyun would’ve never let anything happen to you, not really. Worst-case scenario, he’d have stepped in, come up with some excuse to save you. But now, knowing Jaehyun is gone, and your brother’s death is finally avenged, you feel truly free.
Jaeyun’s eyes gleam with approval, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You were really good in there,” he murmurs, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I almost believed you were scared for your life.”
You chuckle, looping your arms around his neck, leaning in closer. “I really got into the acting,” you admit with a teasing smirk. Then you tilt your head, feigning a pout. “But did you really have to knock me out, though?”
Your boyfriend’s grin widens as he leans in, stealing a quick kiss that leaves you giddy. It’s exactly what you needed - this closeness, this moment of calm in his arms. You had missed him, and even though you’d only been apart for two days, it felt like too long.
“It’s all part of the experience, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his voice playful. His hands rest at your waist, pulling you close as his warmth melts away the last remnants of tension.
“It feels so much more vindicating when there’s a reason behind it,” you murmur slyly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. For months, you’ve been trying to shape Jaeyun’s approach to this game. Killing for no reason is great and all, but taking down people who deserve it - those who harass or harm others - that’s a thrill with purpose.
Jaeyun rolls his eyes, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “Are you telling me that seeing Heeseung’s head explode or Dayoung’s neck snap wasn’t entertaining?” His eyebrow arches in challenge, already well aware of how much you enjoyed yourself. No one else in that room had a clue, but Jaeyun knows you too well. He knows the rush you get from this, the thrill of taking control.
When he first met you, he saw it - that sadness buried deep within. He knew how to turn it into something else, something darker but freeing. He twisted your pain into anger, and then into joy, showing you how much fun life could be when you channel your rage outward. He’s been there with you ever since, your partner in every sick trap.
You can’t help but laugh, the memory of the ‘interview’ sending a spark of excitement through you. “Okay, okay,” you admit with a wide grin. “I loved it, especially the crucifix. You didn’t tell me you were going to add that!”
Jaeyun chuckles, leaning in to plant soft kisses along your nose, your cheek, and then your lips, each one a tender reminder of his adoration and pride. “Thought I’d surprise my baby since I know it’s your favourite,” he whispers between kisses. “But seriously, good work on speeding it up, that was clever.”
His praise sends a warm flush to your cheeks, though it’s hidden beneath the dried blood that still clings to your skin. “I remember you teaching me how it works,” you say modestly, still basking in his approval. Then a frown touches your lips, and you pout slightly. “I feel bad for Sunoo though. He was so sweet.”
“Yeah, he was cute,” Jaeyun agrees, shrugging slightly, brushing off the death of yet another innocent. He doesn’t care about people. Not unless it’s you, you are the only one in this world that gets to feel his heart beating.
He reaches down, casually plucking the gun from Jaehyun’s cold hand, inspecting it for a moment before glancing back at you. “C’mon, we should clean up.”
“Or…” your voice drops into a whisper, playful and suggestive as you jump on the table and spread your legs, giving Jayeun a clear signal.
The change in his demeanour is immediate. His eyes darken, trailing over your body with a hungry intensity that makes your pulse race. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, hard enough to show he’s seriously considering your offer. “I always forget how needy you get after a game,” he teases, his voice low and laced with desire as he steps toward you.
He’s right, the rush of excitement and adrenaline always does this. You remember the first time you watched him kill, how it awakened something in you, that desperate need to have him right there and then. The blood dripping from his fingers, the splatter across his face…you’d never seen him look more beautiful.
That’s when it hit you. All those dark romances you devoured, Rina Kent’s books that filled your mind with dangerous fantasies, altered your brain chemistry in ways you hadn’t expected. Maybe that’s why it hadn’t taken long for Jaeyun to pull you into his wicked world.
Or maybe you’re just really fucked in the head.
Jaeyun’s eyes gleam with dark amusement, fully aware of what’s racing through your mind. His confidence radiates as he steps between your legs, his lips hovering inches above yours. “What’s it gonna be, baby?” he whispers, his voice a low, seductive drawl, dripping with intent.
Feigning thoughtfulness, you tilt your head, looking off into the distance as if contemplating his question. But it’s just an act, one he knows too well. You feel the corners of your lips twitch upward before your entire expression shifts. Your eyes lock with his and a smirk etches on your lips as you slowly reach for the gun, your fingers grazing the metal. You bring it to your lips, the weight of it pressing against your mouth.
Jaeyun’s breath hitches and his throat bobs, eyes following your every move with rapt attention. You tilt your head slightly, letting your tongue slip out, brushing over the sleek barrel. The taste of cold steel and blood floods your senses as you drag your tongue teasingly, savouring how his eyes darken with every secondof your display. His gaze is glued to your lips, watching intently as you lick the gun, your lips grazing over the tip, his cock twitching in jealousy.
You open your mouth, taking the barrel between your lips, wrapping them around the gun with a sensual slowness that has Jaeyun’s chest rising and falling faster. The sight of you, so bold, so shameless, has him swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he tries to keep sane and not rip your clothes off right here and now.
His breath becomes ragged, gaze locked on how your lips wrap perfectly around the barrel. You pull back slightly, your tongue flicking over the metal one last time before your lips curl into a wicked smile. “I think I’ve made my choice,” you whisper, voice sultry and teasing.
"Oh yeah? Tell me, baby," Jaeyun murmurs, his smile widening as if he already knows exactly what you’re about to do.
Your hands move with purpose, putting the gun in his hands. Slowly, you guide it down your body, the metal pushing past your main organs, sending shivers through you. The exhaustion from the game still clings to your muscles, a dull ache in your bones, but none of that matters. Not now. Not when the thrill of Jaehyun’s death and the freedom it brings pulses through you.
Plus, all you can think about is Jaeyun - his touch, his heat, and the way his eyes devour every movement you make. His hands tighten their grip on your thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as he gets worked up in excitement over what is about to happen.
He is so fucking lucky he found you.
As the gun reaches just above your aching heat, The tension between you intensifies, each breath you take beaming with excitement. The gun is more than a weapon in his hands because right now it’s an extension of the fun you’re both going to have.
His gaze flickers back to you, eyes dark with intent as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants. Without a word, he pulls them to the side, exposing you to the cool air. A shiver runs through you, but it’s not from the chill - it’s from the way Jaeyun looks at you, relishing in every second, every inch of you.
The barrel of the gun slides between your legs, the surface brushing against your heat. The contrast between your warmth and the icy, hard steel is electrifying, making the moment more intense. A low moan slips from your lips, your thighs instinctively parting wider like a silent prayer for more.
Jaeyun leans in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “You love this, don’t you?” His words are lustful, knowing exactly how much you crave what’s coming next. His lips graze your earlobe before he pulls back just enough to watch your reaction, the smirk on his face deepening as your chest rises and falls with anticipated breath.
Without another word, he tilts the gun to press gently against your entrance, teasing you. You can’t help the way your body reacts - hips lifting, muscles tightening because you want nothing more than to have this gun shoved deep inside of you. Jaeyun holds you steady, fingers digging into your thigh as he slowly pushes the gun into your cunt.
The metal stretches you, the sensation making you gasp and your body instinctively tensing as you adjust to the intrusion.
The feel is foreign, dangerous, and exhilarating all at once. The weight of the gun inside you is unlike anything else, making you feel a twisted pleasure that only Jaeyun can swirl inside of you. The cold metal slides deeper and a tremor of pleasure ripples through your core.
“Oh god…Jaeyun…” you moan out, hips bucking up to let the pistol slip in deeper.
Jaeyun watches you, eyes locked on the way your body responds to his every movement, his lips parting slightly as he savours every moan, every shiverbhe’s drawing from your perfect body. His control is maddening, slow and deliberate as he moves the gun in and out of you, pushing just deep enough to make you ache for more but never fully giving in.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you fall apart under his touch, his thumb brushing against your clit, adding just enough pressure to make your back arch off the table. “No one else could handle this. Could handle me.”
Your mind is hazy, overwhelmed by the feeling of the gun filling you, stretching you, while his thumb expertly circles your swollen clit. Every movement sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, the tension in your body building as Jaeyun continues his torturous pace.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice dark and possessive. His hand tightens on your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts the gun deeper, the grooves of the gun dragging along your tight walls and you gasp, your body trembling with the intensity of it. The mixture of the gun inside you and his thumb on your clit is almost too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re always gonna be mine.”
Hiis smirk widens as he watches the way your trying to fuck yourself on the pistol and match his rhythm. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride and desire. “Look at you, falling apart on my gun.”
The click of the safety being pulled off fills the room, adding a harmony to your moans and the thrill of danger just turned up to 100. There’s something about being on the end of a fully loaded gun, no safety, and your boyfriend’s finger on the trigger that makes you squeeze and suck in the barrel deeper.
It’s reckless, scary, and everything you could ever want.
You’re completely at his mercy now and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your legs begin to rise as you lean back, searching for a deeper angle, which Jaeyun happily gives you, twisting the pistol with each thrust inside of you.
You grip the edge of the table, knuckles white as your body tenses, the heat pooling in your core ready to erupt. Jaeyun’s heart picks up pace as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours, barely a whisper of a kiss. “Cum for me, baby.”
And you do.
The pleasure surges through you like a tidal wave, crashing over every part of your body, leaving you breathless and gasping for air. The combination of the weapon deep inside you and Jaeyun's thumb working expertly against your clit sends you spiralling into a blissful frenzy. You feel the tension coil tightly in your core, your stomach twitching with each pulse of your orgasm.
“That's it,” Jaeyun encourages, his words vibrating through you, adding to the delicious intensity of your release. “Let it go, baby. I want to see you shake for me.”
A cry escapes your lips, a mix of pleasure and relief as you lose yourself completely in the moment. You can’t hold back, not when he’s watching you so intently, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction.
Your back arches off the table, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades into nothing but the pure bliss that consumes you. Every inch of your body tingles, pulsing with the aftershocks of your climax, and all you can think about is Jaeyun and the way he makes you feel - like you’re both powerful and utterly vulnerable at the same time.
As your body starts to settle, Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He maintains his rhythm, thrusting the gun inside you a little faster, a little deeper, as he prolongs your high, milking every last drop of pleasure from you. “Look at you,” he breathes, his voice thick with lust. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come apart like this. Just for me.”
You moan in response, the sound escaping you unbidden as you feel another wave of pleasure cresting, threatening to pull you under once more. Jaeyun’s fingers work tirelessly, teasing your clit, drawing out the remnants of your orgasm as the intensity builds again. The world around you fades further, Jaehyun’s body long forgotten, and it’s just the two of you - lost in your own wicked game.
“God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration and need. “I can’t get enough of you.” He leans in closer, his lips finding yours, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss that sends sparks flying through your body. You can taste the lingering traces of adrenaline and excitement on his tongue, and it only deepens your desire.
Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of him. The gun, once a symbol of your wild game, fades into the background, eclipsed by an undeniable craving for his body. Each thrust blurs the line between pleasure and pain, sending thrilling sensations coursing through you.
“Jaeyun,” you gasp against his lips, your voice barely a whisper, heavy with desperation. “Please…”
He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes darkened with a mix of passion and mischief. “Please what?” he teases, a smirk curling his lips that sends a shiver cascading down your spine.
“More,” you breathe, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer, each syllable thick with longing. “I need more. I want you - your cock, please, give me your cock.” The urgency in your voice is embarrassing as it rises, a fire igniting deep within you. “I need you to fuck me.”
“Is that really how you want it, baby?” His voice is a low growl, sultry and commanding, wrapping around you like a velvet chain, tethering you to him for life. “Beg for it.”
Your breath hitches, excitement flooding your veins as you lock your gaze with his. “Jaeyun, please,” you plead, not even wasting a minute. You need his cock and you need it now. “I can’t get enough of you. I want you to fill me up, ruin me, do whatever you want with me. I’ll do anything - just don’t hold back.”
A wicked grin spreads across his face, and you can see the hunger in his eyes, the way your desperation ignites something primal within him. “That’s what I like to hear,” he growls, his voice thick with lust and possessiveness. “You’re so beautiful when you’re begging.”
With that, he pulls back, putting the gun back on safety and tossing it on the table, it’s work done for the day. His hands fumble with his jeans as he pushes them down along with his boxers, both just sitting at his thighs.
Gripping your hips as he positions himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he commands, his tone firm yet teasing. “Beg for me to take you.”
“I need you, Jaeyun, fuck,” you cry out, feeling the heat pool low in your belly. “I need you inside me. Please, don’t hold back. I want to feel every inch of you.”
His breath hitches at your words, and with a fierce intensity, he thrusts into you, filling you to the brim, his tip kissing into your cervix straight away. A gasp escapes your lips as you adjust to him, the delicious stretch making your head spin. “God, yes,” you moan, your body arching toward him, urging him to move faster.
Jaeyun grits his teeth, his eyes locked on yours as he begins to thrust, hard and deep. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. “You’re mine, all mine.” Each thrust drives you higher, the heat pooling in your core as he takes you further into ecstasy.
“Jaeyun, yes!” you cry out, your body responding eagerly to his every movement. The thrill of his control, the way he possesses you completely, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you can’t help but beg for more. “Please, don’t stop!”
He responds with a wicked grin, increasing his pace and angling your hips as he drives deeper into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “That’s it, baby. Let go. I want to hear you scream for me.”
With every powerful buck of his hips, the table rattles, mirroring your trembling form. You can feel the pressure building again, the heat pooling in your belly as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s drawing from you.
The gun is great, but your man will always be better.
“Cum for me again, baby” he urges, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. “I want to feel you squeeze me.”
With his words echoing in your ears, you surrender completely, spiralling into ecstasy as your body convulses around him. Your scream fills the air, raw and unrestrained, as the world explodes into a kaleidoscope of colours. He’s the best fuck you’ve ever had, and you’re hoping he’ll be the only one from now on.
You love him, every disgusting, brutal, tender, imprefect, beautiful piece of him.
Jaeyun groans in response, his grip tightening on your hips as he feels you clench around him, lost in the moment. “Yes, just like that,” he praises, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking perfect.”
As the aftershocks of your climax ripple through you, he doesn’t relent, maintaining his powerful rhythm as he pushes you higher and higher. You can feel yourself teetering on the brink once more, the world fading away as all that matters is the connection between you. His kisses are cleaning up the blood from your face and his hands are massaging your aching bones as he piledrives into you.
He leans down, pressing his lips against your ear, his voice a low growl laced with affection. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just keep letting go.” His words send shivers down your spine, a mixture of dominance and tenderness that makes your heart race.
“Jaeyun,” you moan, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through you. “I’m yours. I love you so much.”
His grip on your hips becomes almost possessive, yet there’s a warmth in his hold that reassures you. “That’s right,” he whispers, a grin tugging at his lips as he drives deeper, his thrusts growing more urgent, more passionate. “You’re fucking perfect for me. The only one in this world that deserves to live.”
Jaeyun doesn’t know if he believes in love, or if he’s even capable of producing that emotion, but he thinks he found it in you. You’re the only shining light in this shitty world, you’re his everything.
The combination of his strength and the tenderness in his voice makes you feel cherished even as he claims you. You can feel the familiar knot tightening within you, your instincts taking over as you arch your back, pushing against him, begging for everything he has to offer. “Please, Jaeyun! Don’t stop! I’m so close!”
He rewards your eagerness with a low growl, quickening his pace as he drives deeper into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Let go, baby. You’ve earned all of this,” he urges you on.
And then, with one last powerful thrust, the pressure within you snaps, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge, your body clenching around him as you cry out in pure ecstasy. Your senses explode, pleasure radiating through every fibre of your being as you shatter around him, the world fading into nothingness.
“Fucking perfect,” Jaeyun breathes, his voice heavy with lust as he follows you into bliss, losing himself in the moment as he releases inside you, filling you up, shots of white rope painting his name all over your cunt. The warmth of him spills, a mark of possession that ignites another spark of ecstasy within you.
As you both ride out the waves of your euphoria, your bodies entwined, you realise this moment is everything - raw, passionate, and undeniably yours.
The intensity of your shared climax begins to fade and you both sink into a comfortable silence, the aftermath of your passionate encounter wrapping around you like a warm blanket. The room, stark and gritty with the remnants of the chaotic scene you just orchestrated, contrasts sharply with the tenderness that unfolds between you and Jaeyun.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes softening as they meet yours. The moment gives way to something sweeter, and his lips curl into a genuine smile. "You okay, baby?" he asks, his voice low and warm, filled with concern even amid the chaos. You know he's asking about more than just the sex.
"I feel perfect. Thank you for letting me do all of this, Jaeyun." You press a soft kiss to his nose, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear, feeling that familiar surge of affection for him.
His smile widens, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. You nuzzle your noses together, sharing a moment of softness that contrasts with the bloody carnage around you. Jaeyun’s fingers brush lightly against your skin, and you lean into his touch instinctively, savouring the warmth before reality creeps back in.
"We really should clean up this mess," he says, his tone suddenly practical as he pulls away, adjusting his clothes. His fingers deftly work the zipper of his pants, yet, his eyes never lose that lingering warmth, the way they stay soft for you, even amid the chaos.
Just as the haze of passion begins to fade, a soft, broken whimper echoes from the other room, making both of you freeze. Your heart jumps as you lock eyes with Jaeyun, confusion flickering between you. Everyone is dead - aren’t they? Who could possibly still be alive?
"Stay close," Jaeyun murmurs, his tone low, protective. His fingers find yours, gripping tight as he picks up the gun and leads you toward the source of the sound. You nod, heart pounding as adrenaline floods your veins once again.
As you step into the room, the sight that greets you is almost surreal. Among the wreckage and ruin, you find Sunoo - alive, but barely. His face is smeared with crimson, blood pumping steadily from the empty socket where his eye once was. His leg, grotesquely amputated, drags uselessly behind him as he weakly attempts to pull himself across the floor. It’s a pitiful sight, one that tugs at something deep inside you.
You weren’t lying when you said you felt bad for him. Sunoo didn’t deserve any of this. He wasn’t like the others - he was sweet, cautious, always thinking before acting. But his so-called friends had dragged him into this nightmare, trying to shame him for his care.
You release Jaeyun’s hand, crouching beside Sunoo’s trembling form. His half-conscious eye flickers up toward you, and you can’t help but throw a sympathetic pout his way as you brush a lock of blood-matted hair from his face. His body trembles as he coughs, the wet sound grating against the silence. You gently lift him, cradling his fragile body to help him sit up.
Behind you, Jaeyun clicks the safety off hisngun, this time not in the thrill of sex but the anticipation of death.
“I’ll make it quick,” he says, his tone nonchalant, like this is just another part of the routine. He wasn’t fazed by Sunoo’s suffering, wasn’t trapped in the same space as you, listening to Sunoo’s whispered pleas, hearing him beg to tell his mother he loved her before he thought he’d die.
The sound of Jaeyun pulling back the pistol’s slide makes you flinch, and without thinking, you wrap your arms protectively around Sunoo’s shaking frame. "No! Don’t," you protest, surprising even yourself with the sudden urgency in your voice.
Jaeyun stops, his brow arching in confusion. “Why not? If we let him live, he’ll just run off and tell the first person he sees.” He shrugs, shifting his grip on the gun. His impatience is palpable now like a man denied his final course after a bloody feast.
"We don’t have to kill him," you murmur, keeping your voice soft but firm, hoping to reach the part of Jaeyun that always listens to you. "Why don’t we keep him?"
Jaeyun’s incredulous chuckle fills the room. "Keep him?" He shakes his head, exasperated. "He’s not a pet, baby. He’s a boy, and a weak one at that. He’s not going to be any use to us."
You feel Sunoo shudder against you, his body convulsing as it fights to stay alive. He’s terrified, and rightly so, but there’s something in you that refuses to let go just yet. You rub small circles into his back, hoping to soothe him, even as your gaze locks with Jaeyun’s, pleading silently.
“He could help us,” you argue, voice soft but insistent. “He’s not like the others. He’s...sensitive.” You hesitate, watching Jaeyun’s expression closely. “No one would ever suspect a sweet boy like him of being involved. He could lure people in for us. Or clean up. He could take care of things while we’re busy.”
Jaeyun’s expression hardens. “Y/N, he’s not going to kill people. He’s not like us. He’s a liability,” he snaps, voice edged with frustration. Jaeyun gets like this when he can’t kill, the same way people do when they’re hungry. He’s starving right now despite the murder three-course meal he’s just devoured, and he is not appreciating the hold-up on dessert.
"Maybe not right away," you concede, "but he could be. He just needs time. We could toughen him up...just like you did for me."
The mention of your own transformation makes Jaeyun pause. His gaze softens slightly as the memory of what you once were flickers in his eyes. He’d seen potential in you, had taken you under his wing when you’d been weak, unsure. You hadn’t let him down. Maybe he could do the same with Sunoo.
You watch as Jaeyun’s expression shifts, a battle waging within him. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving loose ends, of anyone weak in your little circle. But you can see the doubt forming, the way his eyes linger on Sunoo’s frail form.
"Move out of the way," Jaeyun says finally, his voice more tired than angry now.
Sunoo’s remaining eye widens as his thin fingers clutch your shirt, his body jerking in fear. He knows what’s coming, and the thought of dying after surviving this far terrifies him. Tears spill from his eye, the hopelessness so raw it makes your chest tighten.
"No," you whisper, holding Sunoo tighter. Then you look up at Jaeyun with the soft, pleading eyes that have always been his weakness. "Give him a month," you suggest gently. "Let’s see what he’s made of. If he’s no good - if he runs or tries anything - then I’ll kill him myself."
A heavy silence hangs between the three of you, the only sound the soft dripping of blood onto the floor. Finally, Jaeyun lets out a long sigh, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile.
"Okay, baby," he murmurs, lowering the gun. "Anything you want." His tone softens, a warmth slipping back into it. "You know I can’t say no to you, especially when you look so pretty all roughed up like this." His eyes sweep over you, lingering on your blood-splattered face, and there’s something both tender and dangerous in the way he looks at you.
Relief washes over you as Jaeyun finally concedes. He steps forward, his fingers brushing your cheek before he bends down to kiss you, the gesture both possessive and reassuring.
“One month,” Jaeyun adds, his voice playful but tinged with a dark edge. "But if he screws up, if he even thinks about betraying us - you’ll do what you said."
You nod, feeling Sunoo’s trembling body slacken slightly in your arms as hope, fragile as it may be, flickers in his eye. For now, at least, he’s safe.
Jaeyun straightens, holstering his gun with ease. “Come on,” he says, tossing a glance at the carnage around you. "We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do."
_____
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#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#sim jaeyun smut#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#jake x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#aj writes
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music girlfriend
synopsis: you’re the weirdest loser karina has ever met in her life, but you’re cute. and different. and she might just like you. (loser girlfriend x mean girlfriend core)
w/c: 5k+
warnings: swearing, lots of it; mentions of bullying. like always, read at your own risk :)
a/n: a concept like this was my first ever fic…except that it was way more toxic and horrifying. i’ve rewritten it. but just reading something i wrote over 10 years ago makes me CRINGE
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
yu jimin is a force of nature on campus; the kind of girl people talk about in hushed tones, partly out of awe and partly out of fear. she’s got a reputation that precedes her: mean, cold and walls higher than the burj khalifa itself.
she doesn’t mince words, and her insults almost always land with surgical precision. you don’t cross her unless you’re looking to get burned, and even then, it’s not guaranteed she’ll care enough to react.
people say she’s a heartbreaker, and the rumors aren’t exactly subtle. she’s the type who’s been through a messy breakup or two, you’d never know it by looking at her though.
karina, as everyone liked to call her, doesn’t mess around with vulnerability: she does leather jackets, sharp eyeliner, and a smile that’s more threatening than warm.
most of her relationships don’t last long; people get too close, then quickly realize that they’re only scratching the surface of someone who’s built walls too high to climb.
and, then, there’s you. you’re not even remotely on karina’s radar, like at all. unless you count that one time she stared you down just for coughing in her presence. you remember it vividly: it was a wednesday morning, and you were hurrying to class when you caught a coughing fit through the hall after attempting to chug a tropical juice box in two minutes.
unfortunately, karina was passing by at the exact moment you let out a loud, ragged cough, and she stopped dead in her tracks; fixing you with a death glare that never left until you were out of sight.
“are you fucking kidding me?” she yells out as you practically run away. “loser!”
that stare was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and disappear, and it cemented your fear of her. you’ve avoided her ever since, not that it’s been difficult — she’s too wrapped up in her own world to notice someone like you anyway.
yet, despite the fear and the certainty that she’d tear you to shreds if given the chance, you never miss an aespa gig.
every friday night, you make your way to the dingy dive bar outside of campus where they perform, staking out your usual spot in the far corner with a ginger beer in hand because you couldn’t stand the taste of anything else, but you only ever manage to drink half before losing interest. it’s not about the drink; it’s about watching her own the stage.
you sit there, trying not to make eye contact, trying to be as invisible as possible while simultaneously wishing she would look your way, just once….in a way that isn’t terrifying.
of course she doesn’t notice you. or at least, she pretends not to. she’s too busy flirting with half the room, her eyes sharp and her voice carrying over the crowd like a spell.
your only real friend on campus is yunjin, your roommate, who’s the complete opposite of you —confident, outgoing and friends with pretty much everyone.
she talks about the girls in aespa often, but you never really pay attention because, well, you’re usually too busy trying to complete a lego set or desperately attempting to finish either a boss in wu-kong, or a quest in dead island 2. in desperate times, you turn to call of duty though.
one saturday evening, as you’re halfway through building a lego roller coaster on the kitchen table, zero human interaction, yunjin drops a bombshell.
“hey, by the way, aespa’s coming over tonight,” she announces casually, as if she’s talking about ordering pizza, fingers twirling her hair and all.
you don’t even look up from your seat. “uh-huh, cool.”
“no, like, they’re actually coming here. to our dorm,” she repeats, clearly trying to make sure it sinks in.
you snap a lego piece into place and nod absentmindedly. “yeah, i hear ya.”
yunjin sighs, clearly defeated. “you’re really not listening, are you?”
“nope,” you admit, focusing intently on the roller coaster track.
“can you please get a girlfriend?” she leaves you to yourself and retreats back into the couch, shaking her head at how hopeless you are. “god, this place needs another woman.”
and then, maybe fifteen minutes later, it finally registers. aespa. karina. here. in your dorm. you’re in your toy story pyjamas with fresh spaghetti stains on it.
you freeze mid-piece placement, your eyes going wide as panic washes over you. “wait, did you say aespa is coming here?”
yunjin looks up from her phone, a grin spreading across her face. “finally paying attention, huh? yeah, they’ll be here any minute.”
“jennifer, are you serious?!” you practically yell, scrambling to your feet, knocking over half your lego set in the process.
“very serious,” she says, clearly enjoying your reaction.
you don’t waste any more time. there’s only one thing to do: that’s to get the hell out of there. before yunjin can say another word, you’re darting down the hall, your feet barely touching the floor. you burst into your room and start throwing things into your bag, moving with a speed you didn’t know you had.
“are you really running away?” yunjin calls after you, chuckling.
“yes!” you shout back, shoving random clothes into your bag. “i can’t deal with this!”
“you’re such a wimp!” she teases, but there’s affection in her voice. “you’ll be fine, i promise —“
“absolutely not,” you cut her off as you slam your door shut. you grab your keys, yank open your window and climb out onto the fire escape, your heart pounding.
as you make your escape, you look down and realise you’ve left a trail of legos behind you, tiny colourful pieces marking your pathetic retreat.
meanwhile, aespa finally arrives. winter, the band’s chaotic drummer, is sprawled on your couch, balancing a bottle of cheap beer on her forehead. ningning, the bassist, is rummaging through your snack drawer like she’s on a mission from god. giselle, the lead guitarist, is inspecting your lego collection with an expression that’s equal parts curiosity and confusion. and then there’s karina — leaning against the counter, looking bored and vaguely annoyed, like she’s too cool for this entire dorm (which she probably is).
“so, where’s this lego nerd?” ningning asks, looking around the living room.
“oh, y/n? she…left,” yunjin says with a shrug, trying not to laugh. “like ran away when i said you guys were coming over.”
“scared of us?” winter asks, looking offended. “we’re not that bad.”
“no,” yunjin adds, shaking her head. “she just really sucks at socialising but once you get to a point, she will yap your ears off.”
“it’s karina,” giselle says knowingly, nudging the singer with a grin. “she’s the scary one.”
karina just rolls her eyes, unfazed. “whatever. if she’s that much of a coward, she’s not worth worrying about.”
as she glances around the room, her eyes land on the half-finished lego set on the kitchen table. she moves closer, her gaze shifting from indifferent to slightly intrigued. she picks up a piece, examining it for a moment.
“what’s this supposed to be?” she asks, holding up the stray lego.
“a roller coaster,” yunjin replies, still smiling. “she’s been working on it all day.”
karina raises an eyebrow, setting the piece back down. “interesting.”
“what, the legos or the girl?” giselle teases.
“both,” karina admits, her voice low and thoughtful. and for a moment, just a moment, her usual cold demeanor softens. “she’s kind of weird, isn’t she? fucking coughed on me once and it just set me off.”
“so you know of her?” giselle raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face.
karina frowns. “what the hell is your deal?”
“definitely,” yunjin cuts them off before they get started. “she’s into video games and all that nerdy shit. has never had a girlfriend in her life, but she’s gorgeous and funny in her own way.”
karina hums, her gaze lingering on the legos. “i’ll be the judge of that.”
meanwhile, you’ve been hiding out at the park not too far from your dorm for a while now, perched awkwardly on a bench — staring blankly at a nearby pigeon that’s scavenging for crumbs. it was the first place you could think of in your panic, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your stomach is making very loud complaints.
“great,” you mutter to yourself, pressing a hand to your rumbling belly. you didn’t plan this escape well. you don’t have money on you…just your keys and the few legos you hastily shoved in your pockets.
with a sigh, you finally accept defeat. “screw it,” you mutter, pushing yourself off the bench. “i’ll just sneak in, grab some food, and sneak back out.”
you start making your way back to the dorm, trying to convince yourself that you can avoid those girls altogether. if you’re lucky, they’ll be too busy talking to yunjin or trying to figure out the roller coaster you abandoned on the kitchen table.
approaching your dorm cautiously on your tippy toes, you open door as quietly as possible, sets of laughter audible from the living room — familiar voices that make you both excited and anxious.
you manage to sneak inside unnoticed, keeping your head down as you head straight for the kitchen.
the fridge is glowing right in front of you, immediately grabbing the nearest thing you see: a pack of cheese sticks and a pineapple juice box. you’re so focused on grabbing food and getting out of there that you don’t notice the figure leaning casually against the kitchen counter.
“back so soon, coward?”
you freeze, and slowly turn to find no one else but karina standing there. she’s holding a half-finished lego roller coaster piece, looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite read.
“oh,” you croak out, feeling your face heat up. “i was just…hungry.”
she raises an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between disbelief and mockery. “hungry enough to risk coming back into enemy territory?”
“it’s not enemy territory,” you mutter, peeling the wrapper off the cheese stick awkwardly. “i just panicked.”
karina’s smirk widens. “because of me?”
“maybe,” you admit reluctantly, taking a bite of the cheese stick. “you’re kind of scary, you know.”
“good,” she replies smoothly, stepping closer. “keeps people on their toes.”
“it definitely kept me out the door,” you mumble, trying not to flinch as she moves even closer. you notice she’s still holding the lego piece, twirling it between her fingers like she’s trying to figure it out.
“so,” she says, her voice dropping a notch, “what’s with the legos? seriously. i mean, a roller coaster?”
you glance at the half-built model on the table, feeling both embarrassed and defensive. “what’s wrong with a roller coaster?”
“nothing,” she replies, surprisingly sincere. “it’s just unexpected considering you’re over twenty.”
“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.
she shrugs, her gaze shifting between you and the legos. “i’ve never met anyone who builds a roller coaster in the middle of a saturday night. alone.”
“what kind of person do i seem like, then?” you challenge, more curious than offended.
“the kind that runs away when someone like me shows up,” karina shoots back, but there’s no malice in her tone; just that familiar teasing edge.
you feel your face heat up again, but you manage to hold her gaze. “well, maybe i just don’t know how to deal with someone like you.”
“and what’s someone like me?” she asks, taking a step closer.
“mean,” you say bluntly, surprising even yourself.
karina blinks, caught off guard. “you coughed on me.”
“you remember that?”
“i felt a splash on my face you sore loser,” she whines, remembering the day so clearly. she watches you for a moment, then she gestures to the roller coaster. “so, are you gonna finish this or what?”
“i was planning to,” you say defensively. “it’s not my fault i got interrupted.”
“by yourself?” she raises an eyebrow at you.
“by you,” you correct, feeling a strange mix of frustration and attraction.
her eyes narrow playfully. “well, i’m here now. so, let’s finish it.”
“you want to help me?” you ask, genuinely surprised.
“why not?” she says, picking up another lego piece. “i’ve got nothing better to do, but come meet everyone first.”
you eventually shuffle into the living room, feeling like you’re walking into a lion’s den. the place is chaos: winter is trying to balance on one leg while shouting about something unintelligible, ningning is tearing into a bag of doritos with alarming enthusiasm, and giselle is inspecting your lego city sets like she’s discovered a hidden temple.
“look who it is!” ningning calls, grinning at you with chip dust on her fingers. “finally decided to join us, huh?”
“i was busy,” you say awkwardly.
“busy hiding,” karina corrects, plopping down next to you on the couch with a casualness that makes your heart rate spike.
“it’s not hiding,” you mutter. “it’s called strategic retreat.”
she shrugs. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“she’s literally just a girl,” yunjin chuckles, taking the first sip off her beer before grimacing. “what is this shit?”
winter suddenly flops onto the floor in front of you, looking up with wide eyes. “so, do you build like castles and stuff? or just boring things like a roller coaster?”
you frown defensively. “it’s interesting!”
“wow,” winter says, clearly unimpressed. “that’s so nerdy, i think i just lost 10 cool girl points talking to you.”
you roll your eyes. “i didn’t think you had 10 cool girl points to begin with,” the room erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but feel a small sense of triumph.
“ohhh, she got heat!” giselle hollers, slapping her knee dramatically.
karina leans closer, her voice low enough that only you can hear. “you’re funny.”
you blink, caught off-guard by her close proximity. “uh, thanks?”
“don’t get too excited,” she adds, a bored look on her face. “i still think you’re weird.”
“i know,” you reply simply. “but that’s kind of my thing.”
somehow, yunjin turns the tv on and you end up in an impromptu mario kart tournament, with winter yelling instructions at everyone like an overly aggressive coach.
“take the shortcut, take the fucking shortcut!” she screams, despite the fact that she’s not even playing.
you manage to hold your own, despite ningning’s attempts to distract you by waving doritos in your face and giselle’s shameless attempts to use every dirty trick in the book. you’re neck and neck with karina, who’s surprisingly good and also surprisingly ruthless.
“you play dirty,” you accuse as she sends a blue shell your way, knocking you out of first place.
“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” karina retorts with a frown.
“it is a bad thing,” you insist. “only jerks use the blue shell.”
“guess i’m a jerk, then,” she adds, not looking the least bit sorry.
“you’re the worst,” you say, but there’s no heat behind it. in fact, you’re kind of having fun.
“i’ll take that as a compliment,” she says, flashing you a victorious smile as she crosses the finish line.
“you shouldn’t,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably because karina just smiled at you for the first time in your life.
as the night goes on, the group slowly starts to mellow out. winter has passed out on the floor, snoring softly with an empty can of beer in her hand. ningning and yunjin are sprawled across the couch, humming some random tune and giselle is poking at your lego millennium falcon with a mix of fascination and confusion.
karina is still sitting next to you, her elbow resting on the back of the couch. “so,” she says, breaking the comfortable silence, “you really like legos, huh?”
you nod. “yeah. it’s kind of my thing.”
“i can see that,” she says, glancing around at your impressive collection. “it’s such a loser vibe.”
you raise an eyebrow. “hey, you’re not the first to say that.”
“i’ll make sure i’ll be the last.”
you laugh, feeling a strange warmth in your chest. “well, thanks, i guess. you’re not as scary as i thought you’d be.”
“i can be scary,” she insists, narrowing her eyes for effect. “maybe one day i can build one with you, deal?”
“woah, okay,” you say, grinning back. “a deal it is then.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
since that unexpected night at your dorm, things between you and karina have taken an unexpected turn. it’s not exactly friendship —karina’s still mean, still cold in that familiar way, but there’s a new rhythm to it, a pattern of teasing that you’re surprisingly getting used to.
whenever you pass each other in the hallways, she makes it a point to throw some kind of insult your way, usually with a smirk that’s equal parts mocking and playful.
“hey, loser,” karina calls as you’re trying to balance a stack of books in your arms.
“hi,” you shoot back with a smile, doing your best to sound unfazed.
“nice outfit,” she adds, eyeing your oversized hoodie and faded jeans. “did you rob a fucking thrift store for that look?”
“maybe,” you reply with a grin. “at least i’m consistent!”
she laughs (surprising everyone around her), her eyes flashing with that familiar mix of amusement and something else — something warmer. “still a loser, though.”
“and what about it?” you retort, shaking your head as she walks away, still chuckling.
it becomes a routine over the next few days. each time you cross paths, karina manages to find some new way to tease you. whether it’s about your outfit, your habit of carrying too many books, or your eternal obsession with legos, her comments are always mean-spirited, but in a way that somehow makes you smile because you know she doesn’t mean any of it.
“what, still working on legos?” she asks one morning, catching sight of a lego manual sticking out of your bag.
“yep,” you say brightly. “gotta build something, right?”
“how pathetic,” she drawls, but there’s a spark in her eyes that betrays the insult.
“at least i’m consistent,” you say, giving her a mock salute as you pass by.
not everyone understands the strange dynamic between you and karina. a group of boys in the football team who’ve been eyeing the whole thing decides to get in on the fun — or at least what they think is fun.
one afternoon, as you’re making your way across campus, you hear someone call out, “hey, loser! still building legos? what are you, five?”
you turn, your stomach sinking as you realize it’s not karina, but felix who is doing a poor imitation of her usual teasing. his tone lacks the playful edge, replaced with something harsher, meaner.
“seriously, you’re still into that kid stuff?” jake sneers, towering over you. “what, got nothing better to do with your life?”
you try to laugh it off, shaking your head. “just having fun, guys.”
“yeah, real fun,” taehyun mutters. “no wonder karina only talks to you to make fun of you.”
you flinch at that, the words cutting deeper than you expected. before you can think of a response, someone else steps in.
“hey! back off,” yunjin shouts, marching over with fire in her eyes. “what’s your problem?”
they all look momentarily startled, but jake just shrugs. “we were just joking around, yunjin. it’s not a big deal.”
“well, it’s not fucking funny to me,” yunjin snaps, her voice loud enough to draw attention. “and if i see you messing with her again, you’ll have to deal with me. got it?”
they mumble a few half-hearted apologies before retreating, clearly not expecting to get yelled at in public.
yunjin turns to you, her expression softening. “are you okay?”
“yeah,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “i’m fine.”
your roommate isn’t convinced, knowing you better than anyone else. she pulls you aside and demands to know if this has been happening often. you try to brush it off, insisting it’s just dumb teasing, but she’s not having it.
“i’m telling karina,” she says, her voice firm.
“don’t,” you plead, but she’s already walking off, determined to set things right. “it literally just started today!”
when yunjin finds karina, she doesn’t hold back. “your stupid jock friends have been picking on y/n,” she says bluntly. “all thanks to your teasing.”
karina’s eyes narrow instantly. “what? who?”
“those idiots on the football team,” yunjin explains, crossing her arms. “they think it’s funny to imitate you.”
karina’s expression darkens, a mixture of anger and something else — something protective. “where is she?”
“probably at lunch by now,” yunjin replies. “but karina, don’t just—”
“i’m going,” karina interrupts, her voice leaving no room for argument. she stalks off toward the cafeteria, her jaw set and her steps quick.
you’re sitting alone in the cafeteria, picking at your food and trying not to let the earlier incident get to you, but before you can get too lost in your thoughts, you hear a familiar voice.
“hey assholes,” karina calls sharply, her voice loud enough to turn heads. “got something to say to y/n here?”
you look up, startled, as she strides over to your table with the same jocks from before trailing behind her. they look a lot less cocky now, their heads bowed in a mix of embarrassment and fear.
“uh, we’re sorry,” felix mumbles first, barely making eye contact. “we were just messing around.”
yunjin’s eyes flash dangerously. “yeah? well, don’t. she’s off-limits.”
“seriously,” karina deadpans, her arms crossed - voice cold and mean. “if i see you pricks messing around with her again, you can say goodbye to your scholarships.”
you sit there, stunned and unsure of how to react. you weren’t expecting this; definitely not karina marching in like a one-woman army to defend you.
the boys mumble a few more apologies before scurrying off, leaving you alone with karina and yunjin.
karina lets out a slow breath, her expression still serious. “you okay?”
“i’m fine,” you say, still processing everything. “you didn’t have to do that.”
“yes, i did,” karina replies, her voice softer now. “and…i’m sorry.”
you blink, caught off guard by the sudden apology. “for what?”
“for making it seem like it’s okay to be mean to you,” she says, her tone unusually sincere. “i didn’t mean for it to go that far.”
you shrug, trying to play it off. “it’s fine. i know you were just messing around.”
“still,” she insists, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “i don’t want you to feel like that. not because of me.”
you manage a small smile, the warmth in her voice easing the lingering hurt. “thanks.”
karina looks almost relieved, her smile returning in full force. “so, we’re good?”
“we’re good,” you confirm, feeling a strange mix of gratitude.
and as karina sits down next to you, the rest of the girls start joining in.
you’re sitting in the crowded lunch hall, trying to enjoy your chips while listening to giselle talk about some wild party they’re planning. as usual, karina is scrolling through her phone like she’s half-bored, half-amused by everything around her.
you pop another chip into your mouth and crunch loudly, completely unaware of how it sounds in the echoing hall.
“jesus, y/n,” karina suddenly blurts out, her voice louder than necessary and back to her usual self. “could you chew any louder? i’m pretty sure they can hear you in the next building.”
you pause mid-chew, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. “sorry,” you mumble, covering your mouth with your hand. “i didn’t realize it was that bad.”
she rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a grin tugging at her lips. “you sound like a woodchipper. it’s a miracle i’m still sitting next to you.”
“you could always move,” you say, trying to sound unfazed.
“nah,” she replies, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t choke on those chips.”
you catch the faintest smirk on her face, and despite her words, you can’t help but smile. “you’re all heart, karina.”
she shrugs, pretending not to care. “you’re lucky i like charity cases.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
one day, karina manages to pull you out of your room and invites you over at the campus skate park. she’s doing tricks on her board like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you, on the other hand, are struggling just to stand on the board without wobbling like a newborn deer.
“come on, y/n,” she taunts, skating over to you with a smirk. “it’s not that hard. just balance, push off, and roll. even a baby can handle that.”
“easy for you to say,” you mutter, trying not to fall over.
she rolls her eyes but skates closer, reaching out to steady you. “here, let me show you. put one foot here, and the other here,” she instructs, positioning your feet.
you follow her instructions, but as soon as you try to push off, you lose your balance and crash to the ground with a loud thud.
her teasing expression instantly shifts to one of panic, her eyes wide as she crouches down next to you. “oh my god, are you okay? did you break anything?”
“just my dignity,” you groan, rubbing your sore butt.
“idiot,” she mutters, but there’s no heat in her voice. she offers you a hand, pulling you back up with surprising gentleness. “you scared me, you know.”
“didn’t think you cared,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest at her reaction.
“well, someone’s gotta keep you from killing yourself,” she says, her tone gruff but her grip lingering on your arm a bit longer than necessary. “just…try not to die, okay? i’m not ready to be a witness to your embarrassing end.”
“don’t worry,” you reply with a grin. “i’ll keep falling just to see that worried look on your face.”
she scoffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that creeps across her lips. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re mean,” you say, but there’s no real bite behind it.
“yeah, well,” she says, stepping back onto her board. “i only pick on the ones i like, loser.”
you watch as she skates away, your heart doing an odd little flip.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
it’s a rare moment of downtime in aespa’s usual whirlwind of rehearsals and chaos. the four of them are lounging in the practice room, sipping on energy drinks and half-heartedly tuning their instruments. giselle’s strumming random chords on her guitar, winter’s scrolling through her phone, and ningning’s lounging on the floor, doing absolutely nothing.
karina’s leaning against the wall, her eyes distant and her expression unusually serious. she’s been quieter than usual lately, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the others.
“yo karina,” giselle suddenly says, breaking the silence. “what’s up your ass? you’re freaking me out.”
“nothing,” karina replies quickly, a little too quickly.
“oh, please,” winter scoffs, looking up from her phone. “this is about y/n, isn’t it?”
karina’s face stiffens, and she tries to play it off with an eye roll. “why would it be about her?”
“uh, maybe because you’ve been obsessed with her for weeks?” ningning chimes in, smirking. “seriously, the way you look at her, it’s like you’re trying to set her on fire with your eyes.”
karina’s cheeks flush slightly, but she keeps her expression neutral. “i just think she’s funny, that’s all.”
“sure,” giselle says, drawing out the word like she’s speaking to a child. “and i think jacob elordi is funny too.”
she glares at her, but it’s half-hearted. “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“oh, come on,” ningning continues, sitting up and crossing her legs. “it’s obvious you like her. the teasing, the constant calling her a loser, that thing where you get all weirdly protective of her? classic crush behavior.”
karina scowls, hating how transparent she apparently is. “she’s interesting.”
“interesting, huh?” winter teases, raising an eyebrow. “interesting enough to make you lose your cool every time she’s around.”
“whatever,” she mutters, turning away slightly. but her attempt at indifference only makes the others laugh harder.
“you know, y/n’s actually not bad-looking,” ningning comments casually. “she’s kind of cute in that nerdy way.”
“if she cut her hair a little and maybe wore something that wasn’t a hoodie three sizes too big,” giselle adds, grinning, “she’d probably have all the girls swooning.”
karina’s jaw tightens at that, her mood shifting from defensive to something closer to possessive. “she doesn’t need to change anything,” she says flatly.
“ohhh,” winter coos, catching the change in her tone. “you know, i actually heard a couple of girls in my class talking about how cute y/n is. one of them even said she’d ask her out if she got the chance.”
“what?” karina snaps, her eyes narrowing. “who said that?”
winter grins, delighted by karina’s reaction. “oh, i don’t know. just some girls, but they sounded pretty serious.”
karina stands up abruptly, her whole body tense. “which class is this?”
“whoa, chill,” giselle laughs, her eyes wide with amusement. “you’re not actually jealous, are you?”
her expression is a mix of annoyance and something deeper. “i just don’t like the idea of people trying to mess with her, that’s all.”
“sure,” ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “and i’m sure this sudden urge to go find her has nothing to do with jealousy.”
“whatever,” karina mutters again, already heading for the door. “i’ll be back.”
“where are you going?” winter calls after her, though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.
“to make sure y/n’s okay,” karina replies over her shoulder, her voice leaving no room for argument.
the other members burst into laughter as she disappears down the hall, clearly unable to resist the pull she feels toward you.
she makes her way to the building where she knows your class is held. she doesn’t exactly know which room you’re in, but that doesn’t stop her from pacing the hallway, her eyes darting to every door like she’s on a mission.
she leans against the wall, trying to play it cool, but her mind is racing. the thought of someone else being interested in you makes her blood boil in a way she doesn’t fully understand. it’s not like she’s made her own intentions clear, but the idea of you with someone else, it just doesn’t sit right.
she waits outside the classroom building for what feels like an eternity, her patience wearing thin. students start filtering out, and karina’s eyes scan each face, looking for you. she feels a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety, and she hates it.
finally, she spots you. you’re walking out with your head down, clutching a book to your chest. when you look up and see karina, your eyes widen in surprise.
“karina?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “what are you doing here?”
she shrugs, trying to act casual despite the fact that she’s clearly been waiting for you. “just passing by.”
“really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “you’re ‘just passing by’ outside my class?”
karina scratches the back of her neck, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “maybe i wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna trip over on the way to your next class.”
“are you serious?”
her expression shifts slightly, her usual confidence faltering. “maybe.”
you can’t help but smile, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on your face. “you’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“i know, i’ll walk you to your class anyways.
and for the first time, there’s no teasing, no sarcasm, just a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
it’s a lazy afternoon, and you and karina are sitting on the floor of your dorm, legs stretched out as you dive into a bag of cheetos.
yunjin left the room to run errands, leaving you and karina in rare company. she came over to drop something off to yunjin, band stuff they said, even though your roommate could not be in one for the life of her.
“these are so good,” you mumble, licking the orange dust off your fingers as you looked at the screen in front of you.
karina watches you with an expression that’s equal parts disgusted and fascinated. “you’re a mess,” she comments, her tone as dry as ever.
“thanks,” you reply cheerfully, taking another handful of cheetos. but as you reach for your drink, you accidentally brush karina’s arm with your cheetos-stained fingers.
she flinches dramatically, her eyes wide. “oh my god, you did not just touch me with those filthy fingers.”
you stare at her, half-amused, half-embarrassed. “oh, come on. it’s not like it’s toxic waste.”
“might as well be,” she snaps, though there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes. “look at what you did!” she adds, pointing at the faint cheeto dust now smeared on her porcelain skin.
“sorry,” you laugh, grabbing a tissue and trying to wipe it off, only for karina to pull back like you’re trying to brand her.
“don’t touch me!”
“you’re such a drama queen,” you say, still laughing.
she scowls, but there’s no real anger behind it. “one of these days, you’re going to have to find someone else to hang out with.”
“and one of these days, you’re gonna admit you like hanging out with me, cheetos fingers and all,” you retort.
“don’t push your lock, loser,” her eyes narrow, but she can’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “come to our gig this weekend, please?”
you shook your head - unfortunately, you had plans. “i can’t, i promised mina i’d join her party tonight.”
and within a second, karina inches closer towards you — burning holes through your face. “mina? party? what?”
“oh, not that kind of party,” you don’t pick up on the way her tone changes. “it’s a chat party, we’re gonna play games all night and —“
“who is this mina?”
“she’s from japan, really cool and she sings too, sometimes she sends me legos from japan.”
“no, you’re coming to our gig,” she shakes her head, not wanting to hear another girl’s name coming out of your mouth. “and that’s final, yes?”
“yes, okay,” the directness catches you off guard but it doesn’t take long to convince you, specially if karina and her dirty stares are involved. plus, you could always join mina’s party later on.
a strange mix of emotions start brewing in your stomach — guilt, excitement and something you can’t quite name. you’ve never been good at reading people, and with karina, everything feels even more complicated. you’ve never liked anyone before, not like this, and the whole thing is so new, so raw. you don’t know if her insistence is just about wanting you in the crowd, or if it means something more.
you’re still trying to process it when karina stands up, stretching lazily. “i should probably get going,” she says, grabbing her jacket from the back of the couch. “ningning’s angry spamming me, i’m late to practice.”
“yeah,” you reply, watching her as she heads for the door. “have fun.”
“can i come over again later?”
you smile, feeling a heap of butterflies down your stomach. “anytime.”
she gives you one last, lingering look before she leaves, and you’re left alone in the suddenly too-quiet space, your mind racing with questions you don’t know how to answer as you head back to your room and turn your console on.
yunjin returns a while later, looking a bit worn out but still cheerful. “hey, i’m back,” she calls, tossing her keys on the table before popping her head in your room. “did i miss anything?”
you hesitate for a moment, then decide to just spill it. “karina invited me to their gig this weekend.”
her eyebrows shoot up. “and? are you going?”
“yeah,” you admit, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion. “she was really keen about it.”
she studies you for a moment, then sits down next to you, her expression serious. “what’s going on, y/n?”
“i just don’t get her,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “one minute she’s mean, the next she’s nice. and now she’s acting all weird about me going to her gig. and she comes here to hang out with me but i know she’s a heartbreaker and i don’t want —“
“she likes you,” yunjin cuts you off bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“but what does that even mean?” you ask, feeling a surge of frustration. “i’ve never…don’t know how to deal with this. why?”
“it means she wants you there because she cares about you,” she explains patiently. “you know you’re a catch right? she even gets jealous when other girls are around you.”
“jealous?” you repeat, the word feeling foreign in this context.
“yes, jealous,” yunjin confirms, nodding. “karina’s not used to feeling like she’s not the center of someone’s attention, especially yours.”
you let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping. “this is all so confusing. i’ve never liked anyone before. i don’t know what to do.”
“you don’t have to do anything,” yunjin reassures you, her voice gentle. “just be honest with yourself. if you like her, let yourself like her. don’t overthink it.”
“easier said than done,” you mutter.
“i know,” yunjin agrees, her expression sympathetic. “but maybe this is one of those things you have to figure out as you go.”
you nod slowly, feeling a small sense of comfort in her words. “yeah, maybe.”
and as you sit there, replaying the conversation with karina in your mind, you realise that yunjin might be right. maybe this is something you have to navigate one step at a time, no matter how uncertain it feels. because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want to be there, even if you’re not entirely sure what it means.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the weekend arrives faster than you expect, and soon enough, you’re standing outside the venue for aespa’s gig. the usual nerves are there, made worse by the fact that this time, karina explicitly asked you to be here. yunjin’s with you, chatting excitedly about the show as you both head inside. your mind is elsewhere, tangled up in all the uncertainty that karina’s invitation has stirred up.
“you okay?” yunjin asks, nudging your shoulder as you both make your way to the backstage area.
“yeah,” you lie, forcing a smile. “nervous, i guess.”
“don’t worry,” she reassures you. “it’s gonna be fun, at least you’re finally with me instead of that musty corner.”
you try to take her words to heart, but as you step backstage, a new wave of anxiety hits. the chaotic energy of the crew prepping for the show is overwhelming, and you can’t seem to spot karina anywhere.
“she’s probably getting ready,” yunjin suggests, noticing your fidgeting.
“maybe,” you mutter, but something feels off.
you’ve been backstage before, but never like this. tonight, it’s different because you know karina specifically wants you here, which only makes her absence feel sharper.
after a few more minutes pass and there’s still no sign of karina, you make a decision. “i’m gonna go look for her,” you tell the girls.
“want me to come with?” winter asks.
you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. i’ll be quick.”
you wander through the backstage area, dodging equipment and crew members as you make your way toward the quieter sections.
that’s when you spot them: karina, standing in a dark corner with another girl, their heads close together.
a sinking feeling forma in your chest. something about the way they’re standing feels too intimate, like you’re intruding on a private moment. you can’t make out their conversation, but then you hear your name.
“y/n? really?” the girl scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. “you’re actually interested in that loser?”
you recognise the voice now — it’s soyeon, karina’s ex. the one you’d seen flirting with karina before, she was the ex.
karina’s voice is low, almost defensive. “she’s not a loser.”
“could’ve fooled me,” soyeon replies, her tone harsh. “come on, karina, you know she’s just a rebound.”
you feel your face flush, a mix of anger and humiliation burning in your chest. part of you wants to step forward, to confront them both, but your feet feel like they’re stuck to the ground.
then, suddenly, soyeon closes the gap between them, her lips crashing against karina’s. for a moment, karina doesn’t pull away. instead, she seems to hesitate, caught between resisting and giving in.
that’s all it takes for you to turn and leave, your heart pounding in your chest. you push your way through the backstage crowd, barely registering yunjin calling after you. everything feels like a blur, like the world has tilted sideways and you’re the only one struggling to stay upright.
you’re back at your dorm before you even know how you got there. you slump onto your bed, trying to make sense of what you just saw. your emotions are a confusing mess of hurt, anger, and a crushing sense of betrayal.
all the uncertainty you’d been feeling, all the questions you’d tried to answer, now feel pointless.
you’re not sure how much time passes, mina and some of your friends are on the other end of the screen, but then there’s a loud knock at the door.
“y/n! open up!”
it’s karina’s voice, and she sounds angry.
“damn y/n,” mina chuckles. “who did you piss off?”
you hesitate for a moment, but then you get up and open the door. “i’ll be back guys, won’t be long,” you hear a bunch of ‘ooooh’s’ from them before pause.
your expression is blank when you open the door — karina storms in, her face flushed and her eyes filled with anger.
“why did you not show up?” she demands, her voice sharp. “i told you i wanted you there!”
“yeah, well,” you say, your voice colder than you intended. “i had a good reason.”
she frowns, clearly confused. “what are you talking about?”
“i saw you,” you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “back there, with soyeon. i heard what she said, and then you kissed her.”
her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks genuinely shocked. “wait, you were there?”
“obviously,” you say bitterly, crossing your arms. “or do you just make out with your ex in front of your toys at every gig?”
karina’s face hardens, her anger replaced by a mix of guilt and frustration. “it wasn’t like that.”
“oh, really?” you challenge. “because it sure looked like that from where i was standing.”
“she came onto me,” karina insists, her voice desperate now. “i didn’t want it, y/n. you have to believe me, you mean so much more to me than you think.”
“i don’t have to do anything,” you say, feeling a surge of hurt rise up again. “you asked me to come, and then you turned around and kissed her. how am i supposed to believe anything you say?”
she runs a hand through her hair, her frustration evident. “it was a mistake, okay? i was just caught off guard.”
“well, congratulations,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “you definitely caught me off guard too.”
“please, y/n, you have to understand. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she takes a step closer, her expression pleading.
“it’s my fault for believing something.”
“what are you saying?” she asks, her voice almost panicked. “i do like you, way much more than i’d like to admit.”
“i don’t know if i can do this,” you admit, your chest tightening with the words. “i don’t know how to deal with all of this — specially not when you’re like this.”
karina’s face crumples slightly, but she tries to hold it together. “y/n, i’m sorry. i really am. i don’t know why i did it. maybe it’s because i’m a mess, but i don’t want to lose you.”
“you might have already,” you say, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but refusing to let them fall.
“don’t say that,” she whispers, her voice filled with a kind of desperation you’ve never heard before.
you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i need time, karina. i need to figure out what this means for me.”
her expression softens, and she nods slowly. “okay. i’ll give you time. just don’t shut me out completely, please.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the days after the argument are rough, to say the least. you do everything you can to avoid karina —ducking into classrooms when you spot her in the hallway, sitting at different lunch tables, even changing your usual route to class.
the hurt and confusion from that night still linger, like a bruise that refuses to heal. you thought seeing her with soyeon would make things clearer, that it’d help you move on, but instead it’s just left you feeling hollow.
karina tries to reach out, of course. you get texts, missed calls, and the occasional knock on your dorm door that you pointedly ignore. the messages range from desperate pleas to frustrated demands, but you’re too tired to engage, too confused to even know where to begin.
“you can’t avoid her forever, you know,” yunjin says one evening as she flops down next to you on the couch.
“i’m doing a pretty good job of it so far,” you mumble, keeping your eyes fixed on your phone screen, pretending to be engrossed in bitlife.
“seriously, y/n,” she continues, her tone more concerned now. “you need to talk to her. she’s been a wreck.”
“oh, so now i’m supposed to feel bad for her?” you snap, the words more bitter than you intended.
she sighs, rubbing her temples. “no, but shutting her out completely isn’t going to fix anything. i know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but maybe there’s more to this than you realise.”
“more?” you ask incredulously. “like what? she kissed her ex. right after telling me she wanted me at the gig.”
“i get it, but people make mistakes. and from what the others told me, karina really does care about you and she’s really trying to show it.”
“well, she’s doing a great job of showing the opposite,” you snap, leaning back into the couch.
“you need to hear her out,” she insists. “even if it’s just to get closure.”
“yeah, maybe.”
the next day, you’re in the middle of a study session in the library when giselle, winter and ningning appear, sliding into the chairs across from you. you glance up, already dreading what’s coming.
“we need to talk,” ningning says, her voice gentle but firm.
you sigh, closing your textbook. “if this is about karina, i don’t want to hear it.”
“too bad,” giselle replies, folding her arms. “because we’re not here for your approval. we’re here to make you face reality.”
you glare at her, but there’s no real anger behind it, just exhaustion. “and what’s reality, exactly?”
“reality is that karina’s a mess without you,” winter speaks, her eyes sincere. “she’s been snapping at everyone, barely talking to us. it’s like she doesn’t know how to function.”
“and you think that’s my problem?” you ask, trying to sound indifferent.
“yes,” giselle answers bluntly. “because whether you want to admit it or not, you care about her.”
“i don’t know if i do anymore,” you confess, your voice small.
“you do,” winter says softly. “and she knows she messed up. she’s trying to fix it, but she can’t if you won’t even talk to her.”
you feel a pang of guilt at their words, but the hurt from seeing karina and soyeon still lingers, like a wound that hasn’t scabbed over yet. “i don’t know if i can forgive her.”
“no one’s saying you have to forgive her right away,” ningnint replies, her tone surprisingly gentle. “talk to her. let her explain.”
later that night, you’re alone in your room, staring at your phone. karina’s last text is still on the screen: “please, y/n. just talk to me. i miss you.”
you close your eyes, trying to fight the urge to respond. everything about this situation feels messy and complicated, and you hate it. you’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you don’t know how to navigate it. the push and pull of your emotions is exhausting, and you’re torn between wanting to hear her out and wanting to protect yourself from more hurt.
as you sit there, you hear yunjin’s words echoing in your head: “you need to hear her out, even if it’s just to get closure.”
you let out a frustrated sigh, tossing your phone onto the bed. you know she’s right, and deep down, you know that ignoring karina isn’t going to make the pain go away.
the next morning, you wake up with a sense of determination you haven’t felt in days. you’re not sure if you’re ready to forgive karina, but you know you can’t keep running from her either.
you spend most of the day debating when and where you’ll finally confront karina. your nerves are on edge, your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything you want to say, but also everything you’re afraid to admit.
after your last class, you find yourself making your way toward the music building. it’s the only place you’re sure karina will be — probably rehearsing with the others, maybe alone. the whole walk there, your heart hammers in your chest, and you can’t stop fidgeting with the strap of your bag.
you’ve rehearsed a thousand things to say in your head, but as you approach the familiar practice room, your mind goes blank. for a brief moment, you consider turning around and leaving. but before you can talk yourself out of it, the door swings open.
karina stands there, her eyes widening in surprise. for a second, neither of you speaks.
“y/n,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.
you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “can we talk?”
“yeah,” she says immediately, stepping aside to let you in. the room is empty, dimly lit, and filled with the lingering sound of guitar chords from earlier practice.
you both take a seat on the edge of the small stage, the air heavy with tension. karina’s gaze is cautious, like she’s afraid of making the wrong move.
“i know i don’t have the right to ask anything from you,” she starts, her voice low and raw. “but i really need you to hear me out.”
you nod slowly, bracing yourself for whatever she’s about to say.
“that night,” she continues, her eyes filled with regret, “i messed up. i let soyeon get too close, and i didn’t stop her soon enough. but i swear, y/n, it didn’t mean anything. it was a stupid moment of weakness.”
you feel a twinge of hurt, but you try to stay composed. “then why didn’t you pull away sooner?”
she looks down, as if the weight of your question is too much to bear. “i don’t know,” she admits, her voice breaking slightly. “maybe it’s because i was scared of how real things were getting with you. or maybe it’s because i’ve always been too good at sabotaging anything good in my life.”
“so, what am i supposed to do?” you ask, feeling a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “just pretend it never happened?”
“no,” karina says quickly, shaking her head. “i don’t expect that. i want you to know that you’re not just another person to me. you’re not a rebound, and you’re not a distraction.”
you take a deep breath, trying to process her words. “then what am i, karina? because honestly, i have no idea where i stand with you.”
her eyes soften, voice quieter than before. “you’re the first person who’s made me want to try. really try. and that scares the hell out of me, but i don’t want to lose you.”
you sit there for a moment, the words hanging heavy in the air. this whole situation is still new, still confusing, but her sincerity feels more genuine than anything you’ve felt from her before.
“i’m scared too,” you finally admit, your voice barely audible. “i don’t know how to do this, karina. i’ve never liked anyone before. not like this.”
her expression softens further, and she reaches out hesitantly, her hand stopping just short of yours. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. i just want to be honest with you. and if you’re willing to give me another chance, i promise i’ll do better.”
“okay,” you say quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “one chance, karina. that’s all you get.”
her eyes light up with a mix of relief and something else, something that looks a lot like hope. “i won’t mess it up. i swear.”
you manage a small smile, feeling a tiny weight lift from your chest. “we’ll see.”
the days that follow are tentative, filled with awkward moments and intimate conversations. karina is different now — not softer, exactly, but more attentive. she tries to be less mean in her teasing, though the familiar edge still slips out sometimes.
“nice shoes,” she says one morning as you’re both walking to class. “you finally decide to wear something that doesn’t look like it came from a dumpster?”
you roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite in her words anymore. “you’re still terrible at compliments.”
“working on it,” she admits with a smile.
the rest of the girls notice the shift too, specially yunjin, who seems pleased with the progress.
“told you it’d work out,” she says one evening as you both sit in your dorm, watching another episode of the witcher.
“we’re not exactly there yet,” you warn, but there’s a small smile on your lips.
“well, you’re getting there,” yunjin replies confidently. “and that’s enough for now.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
then comes another gig, this time with less anxiety and more anticipation. you’re backstage again, but this time, karina finds you before the show starts.
“you came,” she says, a genuine smile breaking across her face.
“of course i did,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “i said i’d give you a chance, didn’t i?”
her eyes soften, and she reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “and i’m not wasting it.” as she heads for the stage, she throws a glance over her shoulder. “stay close this time.”
when the music starts, you find yourself smiling, the weight of the past few weeks finally beginning to lift. you don’t have all the answers yet, but for now, just being here feels like enough.
the end.
#karina imagines#karina x reader#kpop x reader#aespa imagines#aespa x reader#kpop gg#aespa#kpop imagines#karina
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ATMAKARAKA THROUGH THE HOUSES: how does your soul’s purpose manifest in this lifetime? 💡🦋
Your Atmakaraka is the planet in your Vedic Astrology chart with the highest degree. This planet represents your soul’s purpose in the lifetime.
Your Atmakaraka is called your soul planet or your AK planet. It is the significator of your soul.
The house your Soul Planet is in will paint a picture to how exactly your souls purpose will manifest in this lifetime.
Read my original post on identifying your soul planet: here
Atmakaraka in the 1H:
Your souls purpose is about self development. You’re meant to cultivate your own identity in this lifetime. Your major life lessons relate to being authentic and following your own journey. To develop strong boundaries between who you are vs what your expected to be. You’re meant to do things uniquely in a way that suits you and you only. Disregard the path society sets out for you, and create your own. You’re destined for notoriety and recognition.
Atmakaraka in the 2H:
Your soul’s purpose is about creating stability and security for yourself. Your meant to establish yourself in the material world, and be self-sufficient financially. You’re life’s journey is about sustenance. Sustaining yourself, your name, your possessions, your resources and your money. It’s all about creating and maintaining a proper foundation for yourself. You’re meant to use your voice as a method for fulfilling your purpose. Developing your speech to convey a message is apart of what your soul wants to do.
Atmakaraka in the 3H:
Your soul’s purpose is about communication. How do you express yourself? What mediums help you get your message across most authentically? You are destined to bring a specific message to the world that can only be channeled through you. Your destiny has a lot to do with speech, messages, media and conversation. You are meant to exercise a sense of courage in this life and do things fearlessly. Fearlessly communicating your authentic thoughts to the world. Saying what’s on your heart. Through music, writing, poetry, public speaking and the like.
Atmakaraka in the 4H
Your soul’s journey is about developing your inner happiness. Your meant to do what brings you emotional fulfillment. What makes you feel safe, secure, emotionally aligned? That is what your soul seeks to experience in this lifetime. Alignment with family and ancestors is a key life theme for you. To experience the emotional bond with people you call your family. You’re meant to get in touch with your roots, and align with the foundation of who you are. You’re soul seeks a sense of rootedness to the past in order to cultivate your future. The connection you have with your mother is an important part of your journey.
Atmakaraka in the 5H:
Your destined to express yourself creatively in this lifetime. You’re meant to develop and display your creative talents to the world. Your creative contributions are important, unique, and only can be expressed by you. Your life purpose is connected to performance, arts and entertainment. Through these mediums you are able to express your true soul purpose. Parenthood is a sacred journey for you, where you’re meant to experience preganacy/ raising a child. Your destiny is connected to children in general. Teaching them, guiding them, being involved in their development.
Atmakaraka in the 6H:
Your soul seeks to be of service in this lifetime. You are meant to be a healer. Healing yourself, healing those who need your help. Your power lies in being of service to humanity through your healing abilities. You are destined to overcome adversities and cultivate a sense of resilience. You’ll experience challenges, yet this transforms you into the ultimate problem-solver. You develop impenetrable strength: mentally, spiritually and psychologically. You incarnated because society needs your help, God sending one of his strongest soldiers to help heal the world. You have a special connection with animals in this lifetime. They are your allies in this journey.
Atmakaraka in the 7H
Your soul seeks to connect with others through partnership. Your soul’s purpose involves being in relationships that are fulfilling on a emotional, psychological and physical level. It is in your destiny to cultivate your social presence in the world, being a person of charm, decorum and worldliness. Your major life themes involve how you appeal to people and how you use your social connections to elevate your life. Your soul seeks to be impactful in society, through the social influence you have.
Atmakaraka in the 8H:
Your soul’s purpose is destined towards transformation. You experience blockages, challenges and adversities but come out stronger every time. You’re meant to turn your pain into power, to be an alchemist. Your soul came here to experience transformation. Spiritually, mentally, physically and psychologically. You’ll be faced with many unexpected crises yet your powerful intuition will always guide you. The occult knowledge you have will be key in your journey. You’re destined to experience the power that comes from transforming yourself and your life. You’re destined to leave a powerful legacy.
Atmakaraka in the 9H:
You’re destined to be a guide to others. Your soul came here with the purpose of spiritual evolution. Over the course of your life you’ll have many awakenings, epiphanies and realizations. This leads you to amassing abundant wisdom. You’re destined to teach the wisdom you have to others, guiding them on their paths. Your destiny is a worldly one, where it impacts people on a global scale. Your soul seeks the truth, spiritual knowledge, and the ability to live a life free of falsities and illusions.
Atmakaraka in the 10H:
You are destined to achieve your long term goals and be established in the material world. Your soul seeks achievement in the material world. To be successful , have recognition and status is what you’re here to achieve. Your destined to leave your mark on the world in an authentic way, your here to build and leave your legacy through your career and reputation. You are destined for fame or high status.
Atmakaraka in the 11H:
You are destined to fulfill your wishes and desires. Your life has a lot to do with manifesting. Manifesting your long term goals and unique visions. You are a visionary. You’re meant to focus on your gains in life and how you can achieve success in the material realm. Along the way you are likely to be popular and influential. Your purpose leads you to elevating humanity through your influence, there’s a deeper theme here of you making a difference in the world. Your goals and desires help the collective at large. Through your influence you help shape the trajectory of society.
Atmakaraka in the 12H:
Your destiny is about spiritual liberation. Your soul seeks truth and enlightenment. More importantly it seeks freedom from the cycles of reincarnation. You’re likely here on earth now as one of your final lifetimes. You are an old soul. This means your life is about letting go and not having attachments in the material realm that keep you trapped here. That’s why you’re on a discovery of truth. Dispelling illusions and aligning with your true spiritual journey. Your road is lonely, isolating and harrowing at times, but it’s all for the purpose of aligning you with your spiritual destiny. You are a healer and wise person. Your purpose involves being of service to others. You find it hard to connect to the material world/ mainstream society bc your destined for something greater. You’re meant to fulfill your spiritual goals more than material. 12th house is the “exit”. The spiritual, mystical exit where your soul elevates to the next realm after this incarnation, and you break free from being recycled back to earth.
Related posts:
Your soul planet and your mission in this lifetime
Your 1st house ruler and your unique life path
#atmakaraka#soul planet#vedic astrology#astrology#destiny#purpose#astro observations#astrology observations#sun atmakaraka#moon Atmakaraka#saturn atmakaraka#AK#mercury atmakaraka#mars atmakaraka#jupiter atmakaraka#starsandsuch#2024
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My favourite Spooky things to enjoy on Halloween!!
Tought I would make a little list of spooky things to read, listen and watch for the big day!:D
I am pretty varried in scary scale but I tend to stay away from jumpscare! And I will try to not recommend the classic like "Over the garden wall" (1000/10 requiered halloween watch) and the classic movies like "beetlejuice" and " Hocus Pocus" since you guys probably know them well.:) Here goes! -------------------MOVIES-----------------------------
John Carpenter " The Fog"
(Classic old movie, 3.5/5 spooks, old practical horror effect, mood is 10/10 with bonus for having a lighthouse) 2. The Cat people (1942)
(very old movie, and has some old tropes but great tension in some scenes and has that feeling there is a monster about to pop out at any moment without the jumpscare. 2/5 spooky)
3. The Others (2001)
(SPOOKY! One of the first scary movies I watch. still get me. Love it. 5/5 spooky for someone like me.)
------------PODCAST--------------------------
13 Days of Halloween (Season 2 and 3 ESPECIALLY)
(Fantastic ambiance, amazing voice actors cast. Season 2 is in a small seaside town and very Lovecraftian + lighthouse, Season 3 is countryside great depression feel. Both fantastic. 5/5 spookies)
2. Old gods of Appalachia
(one of my favourite podcast. if you like the magnus archive, you will like this! one of the best narrators in the world of podcasting. 4/5 spookies)
3. Ghost Story Podcast
(Not really scary but an interesting investigation into familly history and probable haunt. Just a touch spooky. 1/5) ---------------BOOKS and MANGAS----------------
The twisted ones by T. Kingfisher
(Maybe because I grew up in the countryside with a house similar to that one on my street, it gets me. 5/5 spookies)
2. Even Monsters Like Fairytale
(Kinda villainess manga, kinda twisted fairytale, I highly rec this one! 1/5 spookies)
3. Shadow house
(I would rec reading the manga more than the anime, if only because the art get that mood even better in black and white and Somato is amazing! 3/5 spookies)
4. A guest in the house by Emily Carroll
(Uncanny and such an atmostphere! Emily Carroll is, as always, a master in scary stories! 5/5 spookies!)
5. Anything by Algernon Blackwood
(Old school gothic and short ghosts stories. perfect for your dark academia and victorian haunts feels! You can find a lot in free audiobook form too on youtube and spotify! 3/5 SPOOKIES) ---------------GAMES--------------
Little goody two shoes
(horror pixel art with the dark german fairytale look and yuri? yes please! 3/5 spookies!) 2. The return of the Obra Dinn
(Ghost ship, solving crimes, nautical spooks and amazing atmosphere. 3/5 spookies) 3. Emio, The smiling man
(Investigation game with amazing graphic and live 2d-animations! a touch of the supernatural. 3/5 spookies!) 4. Paranormasight
(Seriously one of the best supernatural games I ever played. can be done in 1 or 2 days, its funny, scary and amazing. 5/5 spookies)
And that concludes thjis little list! I could add even more and Might as I think of some!
#I tried to stay away from classic recommendations!#and for those like me who cant do jumpscare#halloween#spooky season#spooky recs#scary recommendation
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Day 28: lucky charm
Masterlist flufftober 🎃
Reblog if you liked it!
You were sitting, waiting, next to your companion Spencer. It was a small waiting room with stiff chairs and flickering lights, creating a tense and cold atmosphere. Spencer was beside you, his leg bouncing up and down without rest. You could hear the rhythmic sound of his shoe hitting the floor, something that would undoubtedly earn him a few curious looks from those nearby. However, he seemed completely oblivious, focused on his own nervousness.
Every so often, his hand would move up to his mouth to nibble at his nails, a habit you knew he hated, which made you suspect he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. The slight tremor in his fingers and the tension in his jaw confirmed what was dominating his mind.
"Reid, it looks like you're about to have an anxiety attack. Are you okay?" you asked in a gentle whisper, trying to make him feel understood and not judged.
"Nervous," he replied, sounding exactly that way. Although he tried to sound relaxed, the truth slipped out with each word, as if he were trying to contain a sea of thoughts that only continued to grow.
You had both traveled to Chicago to give a lecture—or rather, for him to give a lecture—about your work. It was an important opportunity, and it was understandable that he was anxious. The pressure of speaking before an audience, representing both your work, and answering complex questions, rested entirely on his shoulders.
"You’ll do great; you always do," you said confidently, wanting to offer him the reassurance he couldn’t give himself.
"That’s not true. I know a lot of things, but when I try to verbalize them in front of an audience, everything seems to evaporate around me. I need to avoid eye contact, and that's not socially acceptable. I'll just look like a freak..." he said, lowering his gaze. His tone was one of complete frustration.
"Come on, calm down. No one is going to see you that way. You’re the expert on the topic," you insisted, trying to instill a bit of self-confidence in him. You moved a little closer, watching his expression shift between fear and concentration.
"But I get so nervous! And then I start to stammer and... ugh, it’s a disaster," he exclaimed, bringing both hands up to cover his face, embarrassed and frustrated. His fingers covered his cheeks as he closed his eyes, as if trying to shield himself from the world.
You laughed softly and reached out your hands toward his, gently moving them away from his face to reveal his features bit by bit. When you managed to see his face again, you noticed the blush spreading across his cheeks, perhaps due to the contact. It was a sweet expression, so natural in him, and you were surprised by the vulnerability he let you see in those moments.
"Do you want me to do it? You know I don’t mind. But I’m afraid people won’t get specific data or intellectual answers from me."
"I can do it," he assured you with a slight smile, though he didn’t sound the least bit convinced. "I just need to calm down, breathe..."
"Want a Xanax? I have a quarter tablet in my purse," you said jokingly, though you knew you actually had one. His laugh was immediate, and for a moment, his tension seemed to dissolve.
You both sat in silence for a while, and although he didn’t say so, you knew he was still worried. You wanted to do something for him, to lighten his load a little. In an attempt to make him feel better, you suggested he practice his speech with you, and he seemed agreeable to the idea.
When he started to speak, his gaze locked onto yours, but he soon realized his mistake. He had to look you in the eyes, and that only made him more nervous. The softness in your expression, the way you watched him so attentively... anyone in his place would have had a hard time, too.
You were very pretty; anyone could notice that, and he, of all people, couldn’t ignore it. However, the effort to speak in front of you also served as an exercise in resilience. If he could present his points to you, he could do so to any audience.
Despite his efforts, he failed. The words seemed to tangle in his throat, and in the end, he let out a defeated sigh.
"I’ll do it however I can. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m just here to present data, not to be pleasing to the eye," he muttered, lowering his head.
"Listen," you said, in a final attempt to make him feel better. "I have this; I always carry it with me because it relaxes me to touch the crystals. Use it."
You held out a bracelet full of purple quartz, adorned with a few artificial pink and gold stones. The piece had a warm touch, and you had carried it with you for years.
"Did you know that, according to esoteric beliefs, amethysts provide mental and emotional calm? They’re thought to help promote inner peace and emotional balance, relieving anxiety and stress."
"You see? It’s perfect for you. It’s like my lucky charm. It’ll help you feel secure; I promise," you told him, and the affectionate tone in your words made him blush as you took his hand to leave the item with him. You noticed how his fingers trembled slightly under your touch.
Spencer felt each part of the bracelet, lingering on the softness of each stone, almost as if hoping the luck and calm you mentioned would somehow transfer to him. Then, gently, he placed it on his wrist, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and smiling in gratitude.
"Are you going to be here in the back? Or out front?" he asked, a bit more relaxed.
"Right next to you," you murmured with a smile. "Hotch sent me as eye candy for the old perverts. Remember?"
"That’s not true," he objected, with an offended expression. "You’re coming with me because you’re an exemplary agent."
"Oh, don’t think it only applies to me. Women will also pay attention just because a handsome man is speaking."
He looked at you with narrowed eyes and shook his head gently, as if scolding you for your comments, though you knew they amused him.
Someone from the staff called for you both to go on, and that was the end of it. Spencer walked the entire way clutching the amethyst hanging from his wrist, and after taking a deep breath, he seemed to transform completely once he appeared on stage. His gaze took on a new determination, and although you still noticed a slight stiffness in his shoulders, it was clear that the bracelet had given him some of the confidence he needed.
That bracelet never returned to your hands; you preferred him to keep it, as he seemed to have found in it a source of calm. Spencer kept it close, and whenever there was an important event, he made sure to wear it. Although, in reality, without knowing it, his true lucky charm had always been you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid x you#flufftober 2024#prompt list#writing challenge#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble
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⋆˙⟡ The prophecy
Summary: Your whole life of being ignored in love makes you believe that love will never come for you, so seeing James start dating the only person you thought loved you is too much for you. 'Let it once be me' Pairing: Jegulus x fem!reader Words: 4600 Warnings: Reader is an insecure nerd with a lack of love (she's also oblivious), mentions of crying and self-hatred, use of yn one time, hurt/confort, a bit of angst if you close one eye, slightly suggestive (Nothing explicit), a lot of fluff <3 Let me know if I miss anything!
Since you were little you could not help but feel forgotten, of course there were people who loved you, you were not a complete loser, you had a few friends and had no problems with anyone in your class, but still that painful feeling was still there, your friends had more friends, more friends to spend time with when you were not there, but you did not have so many people to hang out with.
Regulus was the only friend you were really close to, the only one who hadn't moved away over the years, Regulus had more friends, such as Barty or Evan, but he always showed you that you were his priority, including you in all the plans he made, listening to you attentively and never leaving you alone, the boy wasn't good at expressing his emotions, but it was the little details that made you feel his appreciation for you.
Over the years you and Regulus had become too close, you practically lived in his room, where he could listen to you for hours talking about the same subject no matter how much you rambled, it wasn't always like that, sometimes it was quiet evenings where you were both silently reading, just enjoying each other's presence.
Anyone who knew Regulus knew you and vice versa, you spent most of your time together, occasionally being accompanied by Barty or Dorcas.
With anyone else you couldn't help but feel like a lapdog, chasing people and seeking their attention, with Regulus none of this happened, there was no awkwardness or anxiety, just tranquility and affection.
But as always, the universe seemed to want to test you, every year a misfortune happened in your life, this year the misfortune was called James Potter and it was a cute quidditch player with glasses.
At first you didn’t care, you and regulus were assigned together to a school job with James, nothing out of the ordinary, regulus seemed somewhat irritated by the idea of working with one of Sirius' friends but said he wouldn’t give it any importance.
The assignment was not particularly easy, it was hours in the library and you had to admit that working with James wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but time seemed to pass quickly when the three of you were together.
Everything seemed relatively normal to you, you didn’t even care that James and Regulus seemed to get along, it was all too subtle, started with Regulus going to the library first, spending time alone with James and discussing assignment issues without you, then James started visiting more often the black lake, where you and regulus spent time together, but after that Regulus started going to the library without you, you used to find James chatting with regulus in the halls.
You wanted to think it was nothing, regulus still your best friend, still paying attention and even remembered your favorite chocolate, which he made sure to give you whenever he felt something was wrong.
You wanted to convince yourself that nothing was wrong, but there was a strange feeling in your chest, a little voice in your head telling you that something was wrong.
But how could this be wrong? James was sweet and attentive, he was the most popular boy at Hogwarts, he made Regulus smile, which no one else but you did, he even talked to you, included you in his plans and talked to you, listening carefully to what you said.
Even if you tried to hate James you couldn't, the boy was a gentleman in every sense of the word, but you thought it was his nature, you didn't think you were special, so you let James carry your books, walk you to class and even went to the three brooms with Regulus, for you it was nothing out of this world, but in spite of everything that horrible feeling wouldn't go away from you, that feeling that everything was going to end badly.
You really wanted to like him, there was nothing wrong with James, maybe it was you that was wrong...
“I didn't think you even knew anything about poetry” you could recognize Regulus' voice as he turned in one of the corridors, which surprised you, you hadn't seen him all morning, which was strange since you used to have breakfast together on weekends.
“Oh hi dove” James' voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you hadn't even noticed that you almost bumped into them.
James had a habit of calling everyone by nicknames, from “dove” to “sweetheart”, so you had understood that it didn't mean anything, but a strange feeling settled in your stomach every time he did.
“Hi, where were you?” You asked both of them, although your gaze was fixed on Regulus, your voice was calm but had some concern in it, had they gone out alone?
“We went to hogsmaede, for the poetry books I told you about” Regulus said calmly, but you felt a pang in your chest, you were the one who had told Regulus about those new books in the bookstore, you had agreed that you would go together for it.
“I thought we were going together after dinner” You said somewhat confused, but it was obvious that you were feeling a little bad about this.
“Ah it's just that I told James and he offered to go with me, you seemed busy with your Herbology homework, I didn't want to bother you” Regulus explained without giving it any importance, he really believed that you didn't care, you had gone a million times together to Hogsmaede and he had seen you a little off these last days, so he didn't want to bother you or force you to go out, he knew you were not the most social person.
But he didn't know that you didn't care, that you would always go out with him if he asked you to, of course, you weren't a fan of socializing or going to places with a lot of people, but you didn't care if it meant going with him.
“Oh okay, sure…” You said trying to sound as calm and disinterested as possible, maybe it was ridiculous, you were just overreacting, right? Regulus could go out with whoever he wanted, it didn't matter, but why did it hurt so much?
“We can go again later if you want, Marlene said there is a new coffee shop next to honeydukes” James said almost instantly, he seemed to have noticed the way your mood had changed.
“Oh no, Regulus was right, I have to finish my herbology homework…I'll see you guys later” You said with disinterest, though you couldn't even look them in the eyes, you felt a lump in your throat forming, a whirlwind of emotions flooding you, but you didn't want to make a spectacle of yourself there, it would be ridiculous, so you didn't let them say another word and hurried off to your room, feeling a pressure in your chest grow and the tears stinging in your eyes.
You wanted to stop the tears but you couldn't, it had all become too much at that moment, so all you could do was lock yourself in the bathroom of your room, sitting next to the bathtub and bringing your legs to your chest as the tears rolled down your cheeks.
You felt ridiculous, crying over two boys you didn't even have anything with, that was the problem, you had nothing, you never had anything, at the beginning it was a joke between you and Regulus, saying you were both losers with no love life, but now there was only you, Regulus had James, the most damn beautiful and attentive boy at Hogwarts, and where were you?
You didn't know what it was that feeling that came over you, some kind of envy or… jealousy?
You had seen the way James looked at Regulus, with stars in his eyes, you wanted that, you wanted someone to love like you were the air he breathed, you wanted to be able to intertwine your hands with Regulus' like James did, you wanted to snuggle between the two of them and wake up knowing you had someone who cared about you.
But you knew it wasn't possible, you knew it since you were a little girl, when all your friends ended up moving away, when everyone started to have their first kiss and you hadn't even held hands romantically with someone, you just wanted it to be you for once.
A knock on the door made you jump in place, at first you thought it was just one of your roommates, but a voice proved otherwise.
“Is everything okay in there, love?” at that moment you couldn't hate regulus' nicknames any more, you didn't want to see him at that moment, to anyone.
“Yeah, I'm fine” You said trying to sound calm, wiping the tears coming out of your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater.
“Can we come in?” your brow furrowed slightly at his words, We? but as if Regulus had read your mind, he spoke again. “James is here too, you didn't look so good earlier.”
You wanted to curse, what the fuck did James have to do there? You didn't want to be seen like that, you didn't want anyone to see you like that, but there was another feeling in your chest, you wanted to be comforted, you wanted someone to tell you that everything would be alright.
So before Regulus could say anything else, you walked up to the door and unlocked it, opening it slightly before stepping away, letting them in.
James and Regulus felt their chests heave at the sight of you, your eyes puffy and reddish, traces of tears on your cheeks and your eyes burning bright with tears.
Your gaze went to your hands, playing with the hem of your sweater, you didn't have the courage to look at them, you felt ridiculous, dramatic, like a little girl.
James was the first to approach, the brown-haired man was about to take you in his arms, wanting to protect you from everything, but for a moment he remembered that you and he were not as close as he would like, and he had seen you pull away a million times when someone tried to hug you.
“What's the wrong, dove?” asked James worriedly, holding back the urge to stretch his arms toward you.
Your chest tightened as you listened to him, why did he have to use those nicknames? Why did he have to be so nice?
“It's nothing, it was just a b-bad day I guess” You said trying to sound disinterested, but the slight cut in your voice gave away that something was wrong.
“This isn't just a bad day, yn, you've been acting weird all week, even with me” Now the one who spoke was Regulus, his voice sounding a little hurt, it was true, you had been pushing Regulus away for the last week, something you had never done before, the boy had been there for you all your life, you would never want to push him away, but this last week it had all become too much, your thoughts were overwhelming you, making you miserable and you didn't want Regulus to deal with you and your problems, you couldn't be a burden, to him or anyone else.
Your gaze lifted slightly, looking at Regulus and James for a moment, you felt your eyes fill with tears almost instantly, Regulus was wearing James' sweater, you didn't know if you hadn't noticed it before or if he had just put it on, but either way it hurt, it made your chest tighten.
Your mind went back to the last few weeks, remembering all the interactions between James and Regulus, the way they both looked at each other and laughed, the hickeys you had tried to ignore on Regulus' neck, the times you accidentally caught them in the hallways in a sweet kissing session, all those memories invaded your mind at once and made you feel miserable, because you were losing the only person you had ever loved, because it wasn't you who they loved, because it was never you who was loved.
Tears came out of your eyes non-stop, making you sob like never before, you felt like a little girl, weak and alone, wishing someone would hold you and tell you that everything would be all right.
Regulus soon came closer, wrapping you in his arms as if he was afraid you were going to fall apart right there, you wanted to cry harder, you felt ridiculous, you would have wanted to walk away, to disappear, but at that moment everything became too much and you could only sink into Regulus' arms, wishing your misery would end.
Regulus felt his chest tighten at seeing you so heartbroken, you had been holding it all in for so long that now you felt as if your own feelings were suffocating you, Regulus felt his own eyes fill with tears at the sight of you, feeling terrible for letting you get to this point, for not having cared sooner at seeing you so distant, a pang of guilt appeared in his chest.
James next to you wasn't much better, his face was one of genuine concern, he didn't know what to do, he didn't know you well enough to know what to do, he was afraid of getting so close to you that you would push him away.
“Love, please tell me what's wrong, it hurts me to see you like this” Regulus murmured, lightly stroking your hair, you sank deeper into his arms, wishing for it to be over, for the pain to disappear once and for all.
“I-I am what is wrong, it's a-always me…” You said between sobs, your head was starting to hurt from crying, you felt like you couldn't breathe.
“Dove, there's nothing wrong with you-” James started to say, trying to get closer to you, but you didn't even let him finish, feeling the pain cloud your t,thoughts.
“You don't know anything! Y-You would never understand…” You said painfully, pulling away from Regulus' arms, feeling your own chest tighten, to you James was the perfect boy, who had all of Hogwarts behind him, he would never understand your pain, no one would.
“Let us try, let us try to understand you” Regulus said quietly, trying to get closer to you again.
Your eyes filled with tears again, you felt a pressure in your chest suffocating you, you instantly shook your head, they were not going to understand you, they couldn't, not even you could, at some point they would notice how complicated you were and they would walk away, they couldn't fix you.
“I don't want to be understood, I don't want to be fixed, I don't-” You said in a clipped voice, tears kept coming out of your eyes, blurring your vision, you didn't even notice when James and Regulus had come so close to you.
“There's nothing to fix about you, love, you're not broken or damaged” James said softly, bringing his hand tentatively to your cheek, wondering if you would pull away or not.
But you didn't, you let James reach his hand up and gently touch your cheek, wiping away the tears that came from your eyes, his hand was warm and gentle on your cheek, you couldn't help but soften at his touch, it felt so good.
“I just want to be loved, is that so hard?” You said in barely a whisper, you sounded so vunerable, both boys felt their chests squeeze at hearing you, there was no way you were hard to love, not for them.
“Not at all, we've loved you from the first moment you appeared in our lives” Regulus said warmly, moving closer to you and James, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
You felt your breath catch when you heard his words, he didn't mean it, you were misinterpreting things, there was no way…
“You dont mean that, regulus, you dont-” You started to say instantly, pulling away from the touch of both of them defensively, you couldn't believe an illusion, you couldn't deal with the pain of losing them both.
“I don't what?” Regulus interrupted you, not letting you move too far away before gently grabbing one of your wrists. “I don't love you? You're not one to say what I feel or don't feel, I love you, and so does James” Regulus said seriously, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
You felt your breath catch, there was no way, it must have all been a dream, but you could feel Regulus' hand on your wrist, holding you gently, showing you that it was real, this was real.
“I don't know why you seem so surprised, dove, I know Regulus isn't very expressive but I thought we had been too obvious with our feelings for you” James said with obviousness, giving you a small smile, showing you that his words were true.
Your mind seemed to click, the memories of the last few weeks coming back to you, you had spent the last few weeks together with both boys and you had to admit that Regulus was a little more clingy with you than usual, he had looked at you more than usual while you were studying and you even remembered him playing with the bracelets in your hands, but you couldn't believe there were any other feelings with his looks or touches, he was your best friend and you had been so focused on his interactions with James that you hadn't even noticed how he acted with you.
With James the memories made you blush, now it all seemed a little more obvious, James was much more affectionate than Regulus, putting his arm around your shoulder as you walked, or telling you how good your hair looked with waves.
At that moment you couldn't help but shrink in place, feeling embarrassed, had they really been so obvious and you hadn't noticed?
“You really didn't notice anything?” Regulus asked incredulously, though something in his chest ached, you really didn't think they could be in love you?
“I, I d-didn't think…” The words didn't come out of your mouth, you felt embarrassed and a bit stupid, you wanted to believe their words but something in you still felt that it was all a bad joke, how could they notice you?
James noticed how your mind seemed to go too fast, overwhelming you with thoughts and ideas that weren't even true, so without thinking he approached you, taking your cheek again.
“We really like you, both of us, we love listening to you talk for hours about your books and hearing you laugh, I love when you insult me because I don't keep quiet in the library, I love how you and Regulus seem to get lost in your own world when you're together, I love how smart and kind you are, I love you, all of you.” James said sincerely, looking at you with those sparkling eyes that left you in no doubt that what he said was true.
You felt a new warmth in your chest, something you hadn't felt before, and it felt so…. nice
“I know that maybe now everything is too much and we'll go slow if that's the way you want it, we care about you, more than anything in this world, and I know that sometimes I'm an idiot who doesn't know what he wants, but if there's one thing I'm sure of is that I love you, and nothing will change my feelings for you” Regulus said, his cheeks were slightly flushed, you knew how hard it was for him to express himself, so every word meant too much to you.
Your mind was still thinking too much, a thousand ideas and emotions running through your mind, so many that they could overwhelm you, but for a moment a new feeling appeared in you and silenced everything else, it was love.
Your mind went blank, all the fear disappeared when you saw their looks, they were genuine, so for the first time you decided to believe, you decided that maybe this was for the best, you deserved it, for once, for the first time, it was you.
You were loved.
“I love you too” You mumbled in barely a whisper looking at both boys “I'm sorry for…for how I acted… I thought you guys were leaving me out and I-” You started to explain, feeling your chest hurt as you remembered how you yelled at James and walked away from Regulus, but they didn't let the pain last too long.
“It's okay dove, we didn't know you felt this way, we should have been more direct with you” James murmured warmly, with that tone that made you feel so safe.
“James is right, it was me who wanted to give you space when I saw you a bit discouraged, I should have asked what was wrong, I'm sorry, love” Regulus added with some pain in his voice, to which you immediately shook your head.
“No, no, it's not your fault, I preferred to isolate myself than to talk to you…I always do” You said without looking at them, the last thing in just a whisper, isolating yourself was something you couldn't avoid, you preferred to sink in your pain and misery than to let others carry it.
“You don't have to keep doing it, we're here and we're not leaving” Regulus said sweetly, taking your chin and lifting your gaze, “If you want space just tell us and we'll wait for you, love, but we'll always be there for you, you have us now, you don't have to go through your pain alone, you don't have to let your thoughts consume you, you're not alone.”
You felt your heart squeeze at Regulus' words, you were not alone, you had them, if this was a dream you never wanted to wake up.
Without thinking about it you approached Regulus, hugging him tightly and sinking into his arms, not without first taking James' hand so that he would also come closer, he didn't hesitate for a minute to hug you both.
“I love you, so much” You said softly, you wanted to say a million things, but at that moment you couldn't, you just wanted to sink into their arms and make everything else disappear, they knew it, they didn't move away for a moment, they didn't need words to know that you loved them.
“We love you more, dove, you have no idea” James said affectionately, running a hand through your hair in an loving gesture.
From your position you could hear the heartbeat in Regulus' chest, it was the best melody you had ever heard.
You wanted to stay like this forever, with them, they were everything you had ever dreamed of, you loved them.
Regulus carefully took your chin, lifting your face, his eyes were full of love, they were looking at you as if you were a dream.
“ May I?” murmured Regulus softly, his eyes fixed on your lips, he was asking for your permission, Regulus was asking for your permission to kiss you, and you felt like you would melt right there.
Almost instantly you nodded, there was no doubt in your mind that you wanted him to kiss you, even if you had never kissed anyone before, you wanted him to be the first, there was no doubt in your mind.
James was totally gawking at the sight of them, his heart was pounding in his chest.
Regulus didn't think too much before he gently cupped your cheek, bringing his face close to yours and pressing his lips to yours, you felt like you were in a dream, his lips were sweet and decisive on yours.
You felt all his love released in that kiss, it was as if he was pouring out all the love he had kept for you during all these years.
Your hands went to his hair, holding him close, your lips moved inexpertly over his, you wished it would never end.
Regulus seemed to feel the same, because it wasn't until you pulled away for air that he let you go, still holding your cheek.
Your lips were slightly puffy and your cheeks flushed, you were trying to catch your breath, and to James and Regulus you were the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.
“You've been waiting for this for a long time, haven't you?” James said to Regulus with some amusement, Regulus was in the same state as you, trying to catch his breath.
Regulus rolled his eyes slightly, before moving closer and leaving another kiss on your lips, this time a shorter one but with the same love, the boy had definitely become addicted to your lips.
When you pulled away you didn't know what to say, your cheeks were flushed, the smile on James' face didn't make you feel any less embarrassed, even in that state he looked at you as if you were a work of art.
“Damn I really want to kiss you” James gasped softly, bringing his hand to your jaw.
You didn't let James say anything else, you brought your lips to his and kissed him, to say you were scared was an understatement, but the moment your lips touched James' everything vanished.
James kissed you with such desire, his hand went from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you close, his kiss was desperate but sweet, very different from Regulus, one of his hands went to your waist, pulling you closer to him and groaning in between the kiss.
James seemed to have been waiting for this moment all his life, at one point he lightly bit your lip, making you open your mouth and thrusting his tongue in, turning the kiss more heated, you felt your cheeks flush and you could barely keep up with him.
“James” Regulus called as a warning, making James pull away slightly, still keeping his grip on your waist.
“You'll have plenty of time for that later, let her process all of this first” Regulus said with amusement though there was some seriousness in his voice.
You were grateful to Regulus, sure the kiss with James was a dream, but your mind was still trying to process all of this, so you definitely needed to slow down a bit, this was all new to you.
James didn't look disappointed at all, he simply nodded slightly at Regulus, his face somewhat guilty, feeling that perhaps he had gone too far, he was much bolder than the black haired boy clearly, but if you needed to go slow he would wait as long as you needed to.
Even though your heart was still beating too hard in your chest you still wanted to prove to James that he had done nothing wrong, so you took his face and left a kiss on his lips, taking a moment to pull away.
“I love your kisses ” You said sweetly for James, showing him that all was fine, to which the boy's eyes lit up, giving you a small smile, god how you adored that smile.
That day all your fears vanished, you could feel a mess, a chaos, but among all the noise, there they were.
Finally the prophecy had changed for you.
I hope you liked this, I think it's a bit long but I think it's worth it, I hope all my Prophecy girls enjoyed it, your turn will come, don't forget i xoxo.
#⋆˙⟡ Gracie's Diary#dead wizards from the 70#marauders#james potter#regulus black#writters on tumblr#jegulus#jegulus x reader#poly!marauders x reader#marauders x reader#starchaser#harry potter#x reader#james x regulus#james x reader#regulus x reader
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Many of HDG's loudest detractors miss the point when they describe the setting as horror. They are not wrong, but because they do not engage with the themes, subtext and metaphors at play, instead focusing on a purely literal understanding of the setting, they don't understand why they find it so offputting. They yell about humanity never reaching its full potential, or the violations of individual spirit that lie at its heart. HDG imagines a world where the kind of treatment that the severely disabled among us experience is universal.
And yeah... Fair. A factual recount of my life is actually pretty horrifying.
HDG exists in conversation with disability. It is not about being trans or queer, though there is obviously a lot of overlap. It is about imagining a world where those who have disabilities are cared for, and pulling apart the complicated feelings that authors have about the loss of control required for that to happen.
The mechanics of the specific allegories that HDG employs to examine disability frequently lean into noncon, but remember, nobody who is disabled asked to be, and we are frequently the victims of systemic abuse they the Affini are often a cathartic reclaiming of.
HDG is about a world where you go through that and emerge with a promise that you will be cared for on the other side. That you don't have to navigate systems seemingly intentionally designed for you to fall through the cracks, where you won't be expected to be able to do what everyone else is capable of.
HDG is also written by those of us who survived. Straight up, I should be dead, and it is only through the incredible support of my loved ones that I have a home at all. Those of us who can live to tell the tale of severe disability are, by definition, biased to examine caretaker and provider roles.
The moment you realize you are truly disabled, that you will never, ever live the life you have been promised, where a doctor infantalizes and criticizes you for things you never had control over, is a kind of death. The breaking of the narrative that you have the ability to fully self determine is painful. It leaves you forever changed.
This is a fact of the setting that is easily lost under the joy inherent to kink. Traumatized and broken people deserve joy, and I don't think the utopian elements of HDG don't belong, but they are not the whole picture.
Some of my examinations are happy, like Good Sensory. Others examine how hard it is to trust after being kicked for so long, like Cat and Mouse. All are messy and personal.
HDG describes a world where everyone like me survives. The life I live every day, but made safe, and comfortable, for everyone. And to some, that is one of the most scary things they can imagine.
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How do people view you? (Pick a Card)
(This is all for entertainment purposes only, if it doesn’t resonate this is not the PAC for you) ; Thanks for stopping by! If you like this and want to see more from me, comment so I know to do more in the future. :)
Pile 1
I’m seeing that people view you as ambitious, kind, confident, quiet, and introverted. They see you as a daydreamer off in your own world. People believe you’re content with your life and have strong connections with the people you care about. They feel you radiate happiness and shower other people with love and care. People see you as nurturing and feel welcomed being around you. People are captivated by your appearance, they could really like your eyes. They see you as highly skilled, confident, and smart. People overall see you as loving, compassionate, caring, and think you look opulent even if you’re not.
Other messages: Red hair, compassionate, Virgo, Pisces, Gemini, Taurus, green eyes, brown eyes, Grace, Summer, Genuine
Shuffled song channeled for you:
Pile 2
People think you’re a control freak & if things don’t quite go your way you’ll get annoyed. As of right now people see you as a little bit of an angry person and think you’re masking any pain or sadness you feel by hyper-fixating on your outside appearance. They see you as lethargic, unmotivated, unenthusiastic, and having a creative block. People feel as though you’re sturdy, dependable, and perseverant. They think you’re smart and a problem solver who’s on a journey of healing any pain in your life. You may also like to dress comfy.
Other messages: Long brown hair with bangs, fair skin, tan skin, brown eyes, Aries, You could be a Tara Yummy fan, Scorpio, Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, 16
Shuffled song channeled for you:
Pile 3
People feel like you need to start making changes in your life, they see that you’re unhappy but you’re scared of the discomfort that comes with change, even if it’s what’s best for you. People think you’re kind and have material stability. They see you as creative, very physically attractive, energetic, and extroverted. They think you’re confident, respectable, and care a lot about your family and social circle (also that you dress as though you have money).
Other messages: Brunette, Blonde, popular, has money, Taurus, Virgo, gold jewlery, Californian, wears Lululemon, Adidas, beach
Shuffled song channeled for you:
#tarot#pick a pile#pick a card#astrology#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#tarot cards#daily tarot#free tarot#tarotblr#tarot deck#tarot witch#pick a deck#pick an image#pick a picture#virgo#taurus#gemini#crystals#free readings#sun moon rising#pisces#aries#scorpio#divination#witch community#pagans of tumblr#paganism#pagan community#pagan witch
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“WHAT WE MOURN FOR THE DEAD IS THE LOSS OF THEIR HOPES.”
I never thought I’d make this post. Any time I imagined a One Direction member dying, I pictured myself weathered and grey. This was an eventuality that wasn’t supposed to be actualized until the boys and I had lived full lives. To have to come to terms with Liam’s death—his perpetual absence moving forward—in my mid twenties feels absurd. I wrote a long thing the day after I found out, so I’ve already gotten some thoughts out. I’m going to try and keep this short. I likely won’t succeed.
Liam was kind. If he’s remembered for anything, I hope it’s that. I know he helped out with food banks in London during lockdown because there were photos of him packing boxes, but I didn’t know until now how much money he gave them. £80,000 without any publicity. And it wasn’t a one-time donation. He kept working with various orgs to help food insecure people. In the week leading up to that unfortunate Wednesday, he gave away thousands to fundraisers—primarily set up to help people with severe illnesses. He’d been part of Soccer Aid for years. He was involved with anti-bullying campaigns. He worked with Rays of Sunshine to make hundreds of sick children happy. Over the years, he also donated to nonprofits that help children in Gaza and other places. The T-shirt he designed for Choose Love has garnered nearly £200,000; Choose Love has been working with the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and Medical Aid for Palestinians to provide desperately needed aid in Gaza. Liam understood the value of his wealth, and what his social responsibility was. He did his part to make this world better.
All that without taking into account everything Liam did for us. The youtube videos he started during quarantine because it was a way to distract people, give them something to look forward to. His comedic timing was something special. The discord server where he talked to fans and highlighted their creative endeavors. His livestreams, the endless culture-defining tweets he made. I still see people laughing about his tweets. We all remember Mrs. Horan, yes? I mean, go all the way back to TwitCams. Just google the phrase and one of the first videos you get will be Liam’s. From day one, he took it upon himself to make sure the fans were happy. That we felt seen, heard. And he kept One Direction alive for us, on occasion at a great personal cost. He performed deep cuts we’d never seen sung live, he was always so enthusiastic about everyone else’s projects, he never shied away from talking about the band—because it made us happy. He knew what the band meant to us, the blend of hope and nostalgia many of us clung to, and he held on with us. For us. The masses ridiculed him for his clinginess, and he didn’t let go—for us. I’m sure he knew there are those of us for whom the name One Direction still means everything. And how right he was. Look at the global charts for the past two weeks. We’ve made history again. Because of Liam. He had been the glue holding a lot of the fandom together, whether people realized it or not. He brought us all together again in the most heartbreaking of ways.
One Direction came into my life at a time when I was becoming lonelier by the day. I had moved to a new country two years prior, and I didn’t yet have many friends because I knew only enough English to get by at school. Outside of school, I had no friends. They were all back home in the place I’d left. All I had was my two siblings—and when you’re 13 years old, your 14 yr old sister is hardly the person you want to spend all your time with. I didn’t have space for me, to do and to be something that was just mine.
Then I found 1d through a girl at school and they became that something for me. I bettered my English by watching them talk. I found this community because of them, and I have learned so much from being a part of it. So many wonderful people have touched my life because of them over the years, some I’ve fallen out of touch with and some I hung out with just this month. They—and, by extension, Liam—have made me wealthy in friendship.
Claudia, Ingrid, Mery; Thank you for putting up with my insanely specific demands and making headers for me. Ingrid, you’ve been so patient about teaching me how to gif. Mery, I still have your rec list for learning Spanish saved in my notes app. The TPWK print you gifted me hangs on my wall. Cloudy, do you remember that lineart you made of me? I still have it. You’ve all been so kind to me.
Rafa; You have no idea how much you’ve helped build my confidence as a writer. Lyab is a thing of the past now, but those hours you spent fleshing out the details of that fic are priceless to me. I’d never written anything so ambitious before. And, frankly, I don’t think I would’ve attempted a novel if I hadn’t written a 100k fic—which I couldn’t have done without your encouragement. I think this is my first time telling you I finished the first draft of my novel in September. Thank you <3
Yas; Beloved you are so dear to me. You have shown me such kindness over the years, at times I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Not many people check in with me the way you do. I value your presence in my life beyond words. You have so much love and affection to give, and I’m glad I get to receive so much of it.
If I wrote a personal note to everyone who’s in my life because of Liam we’d be here for hours and hours. Jess, Bella, Alex, Jack, Hayley, Hope, Soni, Kayla, Sara, Arsh, Tina, Ola, Cristal, Kylee, Hana, Ali, Antonise, Clare, Abby, Nina, fnh, mert, people I don’t follow anymore, everyone who’s come into my life because of liam—I love you. Literally every single person I follow should be named here because I wouldn’t even be on this website if it weren’t for 1d. You’re all so special to me.
I still can’t believe Liam is gone. I was at the grocery store and it hit me that it’s real, and I thought, no, there’s no way. It feels so fucking weird having this invisible hole in my life that’s never going to go away. But I’ll always be grateful for everything Liam brought into my life. I know I’ll grow old with a whole bunch of you in my life—I’ve already spent a decade with some of you in my life—and I wish Liam got to grow old and weathered with us all.
This is such an inadequate goodbye. I think I’ll keep coming up with things I wish I could tell Liam, or things I want to say to you all. There’s so much history here, so much to reminisce about. He took a piece of my adolescence with him. I’ll miss him forever. Too many of my memories are intertwined with him and I’ll miss him forever.
Sleep easy, Liam. I hope, in time, you’re remembered for your limitless capacity for love and your desire to do better, be better. You deserved more. 🤍
—————
tagging 1d people here because i know many blogs aren’t active on a regular basis. apologies if i missed someone (i’m sure i did). hugs for everyone
@1dclowns @hrrytomlinson @sandiazucar @fookinfreezin @hoeranghae @wlwmermald @tomlinsun @epubgf @heyangel @fireproofs @90sgrungelouis @lirry @iconichalo @itsnotreal @aquickstart @roguecurls @harryscuddles @hoteyelinerguy @babyy-honey @goldencereza @kindathoughtprovoking @kindofsharethat @fuchsiasea @queerbloodyangel @tofiveohfive @aboutmetamorphosis @wastelandbabyblue @delicatepointofview @twentybiqueen @girlcrushau @chaoticsue @chimnation @akasakasads @icouldbeluckyagain @alloutshirt @half-lightl @halohamilton @willowfey @meltedwings @softandslow @loustyles @onedirectiom @pop-punklouis @pridesobright @finexbright @femstyles @baawree @iamnathanscott @avocadolouie @userautumn @niallerer @itsnothesameasitwas @usignedupforthis @svpportive @svncourt
#liam payne#remembering liam payne#this was supposed to post tomorrow but oh well. might as well#seedpost
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Can people please stop talking shit on Nii-sensei and complaining about other characters getting attention and backstories? Like, it’s my favorite thing when an MC isn’t the only character that matters in a story. It makes the world-building that much more immersive and interesting.
And also, most of the other characters’ relationships and backstories in Wind Breaker have a special significance to Sakura’s growth as a character too. So, like, he is getting attention even when it’s not direct. Some people just get so fixated on the surface level that they can’t seem to look any deeper, and it’s really disrespectful to the author when they act like Sakura gets no focus whenever he not only is involved in every part of the story on some level but is always out there actively bringing everyone together throughout the story.
No, we don’t know much about his past yet. Yet. Because he’s the main character, and we need to build up to that. He still has a lot of growth to do before he can feel comfortable sharing that part of himself with others. It would be weird if the story jumped straight into his super personal trauma so early on. And before the other characters too? Nah. Sakura needs to hear/experience others’ stories and struggles first. He needs to help them before he can realize that it’s okay to share his own trauma and seek help himself.
But the story needs to build up to that point.
Which means we gotta be patient for Sakura’s backstory. This is a story about his growth and his healing and finding a place of belonging. If everything fell into place right away, the story would be over.
So just enjoy the story as it is? Like, it’s a super well-written series with really great character relationships. And Sakura is at the center of it all, in one way or another. As is, the story still has a long way to go. Please stop trying to rush it to its end and just trust that Nii-sensei will give us what we want in due time.
#at this point I’m just blocking people who say rude things about Nii and the story#it’s super disrespectful - like#why even read this story if you don’t like it???#wind breaker#windbreaker#stoicman rambles
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BE MY MISTAKE
PLAYLIST : spotify
PAIRING : ghostface!lee jeno (nct) x afab!reader
GENRE : horror/thriller(?), fluff, smut, angst (hurtfic)
SYNOPSIS : "happy halloween! time to play one giant insensitive prank on you like the popular movie franchise "stab!" lol it'll be funny dw"
WC : 12,670 words
WARNINGS : heavily based on the scream franchise. established relationship, strong language, jeno = billy and reader = sydney essentially, jeno and reader have sexy time with the mask on, oral (f. receiving), p-in-v sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, um premeditation 😀, no happy ending. guys this is literally about a (fictional) murderer. there is a chasing scene. think scary movie 1 in the theater but more, like, serious.
AUTHOR'S NOTE : happy october :3 when you really think about it, isn't halloween time everyday? here's something i actually worked on bc im insane. also, there's a bit of an inconsistency with the writing; i said jeno already got tickets but obvi theyre seeing it at the theater party. i was already 3/4 of the way done writing it when i remembered so pls just ignore it plsplspls i beg. as always, please let me know if i forgot any warnings <3
DISCLAIMER : the characters in this story are to be allusions to real people, and none of the situations, personalities, and actions found here should reflect reality. i do not believe in any of the problematic actions displayed and mentioned. this story was created with zero intention to violate the images of the artists.
It was October, which meant another "Stab!" movie was going to be released within due time, which also meant, everyone was going to harp on about the events that happened last year; that happen every year. The "Stab!" movies that got rereleased in theaters every year for a week were really... not all that good, in your (unprofessional) opinion. They were poorly made "based-on-a-true-story" movies that influenced a worldwide prank across the world that caused a lot of actual real world deaths and trauma. But, your boyfriend, a film student, thought it was one of the best movies ever made! You remember you both started dating around this time almost three years ago and seeing the rerelease of the 1997 slasher film was quite unexpected. You didn't even know it existed until that time, when Jeno, your boyfriend, excitedly asked you out on that first date to see it.
You could remember your boyfriend shoveling buckets and tubs of popcorn into his mouth as you could barely stomach the thought of Sidney Prescott being harassed for years, decades. Your own judgement was being questioned that night and you ignored it.
Sitting at your laptop in the library, you let out a deep and long sigh as you stared at the blank word document. Given it was October and you were a criminal history student, it was only natural that you were given the assignment on criminal offenses that happened during the Halloween season. And of course, the first thing that popped up into your head was the Woodsboro Murders, after all the rewatches over the last year. The tabs open on your computer about the crime significantly slowed down your laptop that you were willing to opt for the books that rested on the library shelves.
And if it wasn't the cherry on top of your already obnoxious day, your computer crashed. Meaning, browsing the aisles for any information about your subject and writing the information down the classic "pen-to-paper" way was the only way you were going to get your work done, which was probably a blessing in disguise, considering you knew how easily you could get distracted.
You dropped your head to your hands, letting out a sigh before you lifted your head, your laptop slamming shut.
"I wanna play a game." Your boyfriend spoke in a sinister voice as he looked at you, holding a Billy the Puppet mask from the Saw films over his face, before he pulled it down to smile at you.
You sighed again, packing up the laptop, "Not funny." You grumbled.
Jeno laughed, turning his wrist to look at the mask, "What? Who doesn't love Billy the Puppet?"
You glanced at Jeno through your lashes and zipped up the bag you had, before walking over to the Windows Vista desktop your university refused to update and searched up your keyword: "Woodsboro." And you hoped your boyfriend wouldn't peek over your shoulder and-
"Woodsboro?" He perked up and looked at your face, "Are you studying about it?" He began to overload you with questions; "Why are you studying it?" or "How far are you along?" or "Can I help you with whatever you're studying this for?"
You couldn't blame him, you really couldn't. He was like a puppy who just found a stick in the yard. You knew that if you even slightly mentioned "Stab!" or the murders, you'd have to deal with your boyfriend bouncing off the walls. You were surprised he never decided to join your criminal history class, purely based on the fact he was the most knowledgeable person about the subject that you knew.
You looked at the top three recommended books, and erased the search from the results, wandering down to the section of the library. Jeno followed close behind. "It's for my criminal history class." Was all you said.
"I can help you!" He chuckled.
You stopped right at the final section pulling out the book titled "The Woodboro Murders" by Gale Weathers. It was a best seller, apparently, if the bright red font at the top of the book wasn't enough to tell you that. You held it in your arm before you pulled the second book out and placed in on top of the other. "Jeno, I know you're excited to help but it's history. This isn't some trashy movie about slashers."
Jeno winced as you criticized his favorite movie, holding his hand to his chest, "Come on, baby, you know I know better than anyone about this stuff." He smiled, "I can help you. I don't know just the trashy horror movie stuff. I know the psychology and the science behind it."
You attempted to walk away, but Jeno quickly pulled you back to smile at you, the Billy the Puppet mask still lingering in his hand.
Jeno was always handsome, and he knew it too. If there wasn't multiple times he was able to win you over with just his looks, you'd be lying. So, when he looks at you with his soft smile, and his soft eyes, you begin to fall all over again. You take in his features; the mole that sits under his right eye, his nose, how beautiful his eyes looked.
Fuck, you swore to yourself, here we go again. "Fine, you can help me." You almost grumbled. Almost. "But, I'm not using the movie as a source." You pointed at him, "Everything we include has to be in any of these books or reliable sources on the internet."
Jeno held his hands up once more, chuckling, "I got it. I got it. Consider the existence of Stab completely erased from my mind from this moment forward."
"Good." You continued down the middle of the book shelves, grabbing another book, your boyfriend following close behind, his hands brushing against the spine of the books.
Jeno perked up, "Hey, we've got a few days before our anniversary. I was thinking we could go see that rerelease on the day of."
You glanced at him once more, "I really need to keep a counter of how often you mention that movie."
As much as you hated the movie, and it's effects after the release, it was like you were reliving your first date with him. Last year, you guys went to the same theater, ordered the same snacks — a large popcorn with extra butter, gummy candy and one large soda you both shared — and you both were lucky to get the same exact seats as your first date. And you hoped that you could relive that day over and over again.
You glanced at Jeno, tilting your head to the side, "You already have the tickets, huh?" You asked.
"Yup." Jeno rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the tickets to show you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "Same auditorium; same seats."
You smiled to yourself. Sure, he could tick you off mentioning "Stab!" ten to twelve times a day, but... you loved him. He was your boyfriend. And the attention to detail he always had was admirable.
You pecked his cheek, making his smile grow even wider, feeling your chest tighten as you admired his features silently once again, holding the books in your arm as you ran your fingers through his hair.
He was annoying, but he was also sweet. And he was all your own.
After a long and grueling study session, cramped hands, and an overwhelming amount of information that you weren't even aware of, it was now officially 8pm, and the university library was closing for the night, the librarian grabbing the books off your desk to add to the cart of growing stock. Despite Jeno's promise, he continued to cross reference "Stab!" while he read pieces from Gale Weathers' book. You swore, you couldn't get through a paragraph before your boyfriend said, "I remember that in the movie."
The sheet of paper that held your precious grade was zipped up into your bag, kept nice and neat in between your laptop and your textbook. Jeno held your hand as he walked you through the dark sidewalk down the University Road, where your shared apartment was located. Jeno and you have lived together since the second semester started in the last week of August.
The co-ed dorm you two lived in was fairly small — one floor and only 17 dorm rooms. It also happened to be the first place you met Jeno. Jeno originally stayed in the dorm room across from your own, which is the current one you both stayed in now. You remember him peeking out of his dorm room door with nothing on but a pair of grey sweatpants, shouting something at his friends as they ran down the hallway. You later found out they were his dorm mates — Mark and Donghyuck. When you stepped into the room, the striking contrast between the two sides of the room was nauseating. Jeno had action figures, replicas and movie posters decorating his side; something every movie buff held proud. Your side was almost empty. You barely had any decorations on the wall and the only decorated area was your desk. It wasn't much, but it was home, at least for now.
When the door to the room opened, you let out a sigh, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag on the couch, you fell onto your tiny dorm bed. "Finally, nap time." You mumble.
Jeno set his own items down and sighed, "You should relax for now and then we'll pick up where we left off."
You had a routine of coming home from either work or school; kick off shoes, set stuff down, nap. It was the same every single day. Jeno had a very opposite routine. He always kept his slippers on, he neatly placed his items beside his desk and then he sat down, and watched a movie off his scratch away chart of the one hundred highest rated movies of all time.
Yet, today, he seemed to be in a different mood. He hung up the Billy the Puppet mask next to the plethora of other horror movie icons, before his hand brushed along his prized possession, the killer from the Woodsboro murders. It was a little odd that his favorite mask would be one from actual real life cases, but you know it wasn't because of that. It was because of "Stab!" but, you know if you try to explain that to someone, they'd just give you a dirty look and silently judge you, or more rather, your boyfriend. Maybe a little bit of you, as well, for trying so hard to defend your boyfriend.
Grabbing the mask of the infamous double killers, Jeno pulled it over his head, looking at you through the mesh eyeholes, crawling his way across the impromptu king bed, leaning close over your shoulder as you laid on your stomach. The smooth pvc plastic and the polyester fiber brushed against your skin, and you turned your head to look at him. "What do you think you're doing?" You asked with a bite.
Jeno shrugged, "I don't know. Aren't girls into this type of stuff?" He whispered through the mask, slowly lifting it over his head to look at you, "I thought girls were into the, like, masked guys and shit."
You scoffed, laying on your hand, "Some girls. And I don't think it's actual killers they're into."
Jeno shrugged, pulling the mask down once more, running his hands against your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing against your shoulder blades, "I don't know. I've seen some people into some pretty messed up guys."
You rolled your eyes again, "Some people are into that stuff." You shrugged, turning your head to the side as he ran his hands over your skin, "Fuck, I don't know, Jen. I hardly even know if I like my school major."
"Fine, fine." He scoffed, "But you don't even wanna try it with the mask on once?"
You rolled your eyes, "Take the mask off, Jeno."
Jeno sighed, pulling the mask off before tossing it to his side of the makeshift bed, "You don't even wanna spice up our sex life a little bit?"
You rolled over so you were on your back, his legs straddling your hips in some type of sick power play. He looks amazing up there, you thought. Your fingers traced the curve of his thighs, "I think our sex life is perfectly fine, if you ask me." You shrugged playfully, "Maybe some other time?"
Jeno groaned, "You're ruining this marriage." He responded sarcastically, "It's someone else, isn't it?" He crossed his arms.
"Yes, oh, my god, I completely forgot I was having sex with your manager from the theater." You gasped.
"With Jaehyun?" Jeon gasped, "I don't blame you. How'd you pull him?" Much to your dismay, he climbed off from on top of you, laying his head on your shoulder as you both laid down.
You shrugged, "You know, same way I pulled you."
Jeno rolled his eyes, "Okay, quit it. I'm actually starting to think you're fucking Jaehyun." He grumbled, "Speaking of Jaehyun, the Halloween Party. Are we going or what?"
"Yeah, sure. We have nothing else going on." You sighed, "I'd much rather go to a Halloween party at the theater than here at one of the sororities or frats." You rolled onto your side so you were facing Jeno, smiling sweetly.
"Sounds like a plan to me." He gave a dorky smile, "We could probably even skip the date night and just go to the party."
"You don't wanna see the movie?" You mumbled, "Wait, let me guess..." You cleared your throat, putting on your best "Jeno" voice, "They're actually showing Stab for the party, oh my god!"
"I don't sound like that."
"Um, actually, you do." You teased, nudging his shoulder. "Did I get it right?"
Jeno chuckled, shrugging, "It's the theatre's most popular re-releases. So, for them to close down early just so we can watch the movie for a party is pretty amazing." He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, "Plus, Halloween is our anniversary. It can be a two-in-one celebration."
"I guess you're right." You mumbled, "Pretty amazing." You repeated, fighting back a yawn, "I'm sleepy." You whispered as you curled up close to Jeno, smiling to yourself as you feel him cup the back of your knee to bring your leg over his hip.
His fingers brushed against the skin of your cheek, laying his head on top of yours, something he normally did when you'd nap so you had complete darkness, "Go to sleep, babe. I'll be here when you wake up." He whispered in your ear, barely above a whisper.
Your heart fluttered at his soft voice, feeling yourself already starting to drift to sleep, relishing in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin, his other hand pinned against the bed as it was wrapped around your back and placed on your hip. While you pinned his arm down to keep him from moving, he had your head pinned down with his own. It was your preferred cuddling position; your own pretzel twist.
You woke up hours after you had fell asleep to a loud clatter from the window behind you. Jeno was no where to be seen, and you immediately tensed up at the sound. Laying perfectly still as if you were still sleeping, you didn't dare attempt to put your life on the line.
Oh, god, you thought, is this really happening right now? Your mind began to race with a million different thoughts, "I don't wanna end up on Cold Case Files," and "I don't want to go out this way."
"Shit." You heard in a familiar voice, turning around to see your boyfriend climbing in through the window.
You sat up straight, "Jeno?" You called out through your gravely and sleepy voice, squinting your eyes as your boyfriend shined the flashlight from his phone in your eyes, your hand shooting up to block the light from your eyes, "What are you doing?"
Jeno pointed to the door, "Locked myself out." He grumbled, stumbling as he finished climbing through the window, quickly bending down as a metal jingling echoed between the two of you.
You just glanced as Jeno quickly shoved the keys into his sweater pocket, too tired to care, "Hm..." You hummed as you laid back, "If you went out with Mark and Jaemin, I don't mind." You sighed.
Jeno chuckled as he made his way around the room to set down his items, "Heh, you caught me." He rubbed his neck, climbing into the bed beside you once more, "I snuck out an hour and a half ago to go out and eat."
You could tell he was just as tired as you were a few hours ago, but he was forcing himself awake, "What'd you guys eat?"
"Meat." Jeno shrugged, "Nothing exciting. You know those two." He buried his face further into the pillow, his eyes closing, "Did you sleep well, baby?"
You nodded, "Yeah." It's all you said, reaching your hand up to brush some of his hair from his eyes, your thumb brushing against his cheek, "As much as I'd love to stay here and cuddle, I should get that paper done."
Jeno hummed, peeking an eye open, "Did you want any help?"
Your heart warmed at the question; not because he asked, because he was willing to help you even though he was tired, "No," You whispered softly as you took into consideration his restlessness, shaking your head, "No, baby. Just rest. I can handle it." You placed a chaste kiss to his neck, slowly sitting up. You grabbed a plush blanket to wrap around your shoulders, making your way to your desk as you pushed yourself off the bed.
This was normally how you and Jeno both functioned; one was awake at the crack of dawn and asleep by 9pm, the other was asleep until noon and up until 3 in the morning. It's a miracle that the two of you found a way to be with one another.
Sitting at your desk, pulling out your Holy Grail of a assignment and set it neatly on the top, opening your laptop to look at the screen as you slowly booted it up. Seemed to be running fine, so you decided it should be okay to use, even if you had to keep it plugged in. The previous document saved just how you left it — empty and barren. You didn't even have a sentence on the screen.
Maybe technology wasn't the right move for schoolwork, you thought to yourself as you compared the two forms of documentation. The sheet of paper was a little more than halfway filled, and although the pen ink smudged from your hand swiping across the paper, it still looked pretty damn good. Compared to the digital sister, the paper seemed like the one who had everything all together.
You decided to pick up where you left off on the sheet of paper, using your laptop for music and the pdf of the books you used earlier open on each tab.
You looked up from the paper, squinting your eyes as you looked at the laptop screen, highlighting the words with the cursor.
"That's interesting." You titled your head to the side, reading the line of text in your head.
"Sydney Prescott was unaware at the moment, but she noticed when the killer attacked, her boyfriend, Billy Loomis, and his best friend, Stuart "Stu" Macher were no where to be seen."
The line made you uncomfortable, shifting in your seat at the thought, clearing your throat as you read the line over and over again. Gale Weathers then goes on to describe how significant it is that Sydney Prescott should've realized, but then again, you sympathized with Sydney. After all, she loved Billy.
God forbid Jeno did something like that, you'd probably have to be thrown into an asylum.
You decided procrastination was the best option for the evening, using the pen as a paperweight and closed the laptop screen. You stood up from the desk and sighed, scooting over to the bed before laying down beside the sleeping Jeno.
Despite your previous nap, you laid your head down on the pillow and felt yourself falling asleep.
That evening, you thought about Jeno and your upcoming date night/Halloween party. You opened your eyes through the night, glancing over to check on your boyfriend, going as far to adjust the blanket over his shoulder and brush hair from his eyes to just make sure it wasn't an illusion.
God, you just wished he wasn't a maniac like Billy Loomis.
Despite your best efforts to go to bed at an early time, you tossed and turned, you shivered, your legs grew restless. And then the sun peeked in through your window, and you only glared. 7 in the morning and you were awake even before your boyfriend. Your eyes burned from the lack of sleep and you couldn't help yourself but to curse the sun as it extended across the skyline. You sat up slowly from the bed, looking wistfully out the window of your dorm room, the blanket covering your legs.
The thoughts you had in the back of your mind from a few hours before still lingered in your head, because it's entirely possible for something like that to happen. It's entirely possible for a significant other to go off the bend and be a crazed murderer. And it's entirely possible that it can be the person you share a bed with.
You sighed softly as you pushed the thought away and stood from the bed, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You trudged along to the bathroom inside your dorm room, shutting the door behind you as you looked into the mirror. The eyebags were a dark grey, your eyes blood shot and your eyelids hung low. You looked like death to put it simply, and you felt it.
Turning on the sink and grabbing your toothbrush, you squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began to brush your teeth. Although, you were sure you weren't really brushing as you felt your eyes struggle to open every time you blinked, your grip on the brush weakening every time your eyes weighed closed.
The bathroom door opened and Jeno stepped inside, placing a kiss on the side of your head, "Morning, baby." He whispered, grabbing his own toothbrush, "Stayed up all night again?"
You looked at him through the mirror, shaking your head before rinsing out your mouth, "No." You mumbled, clearly half asleep, "I was, like, half asleep, half awake the whole night."
Jeno chuckled, brushing his teeth, "You get anything else done on the paper?"
"Yeah, I got a lot done." You nodded, setting the toothbrush back in the drawer you kept it in, stepping off to the side, "There was a lot I learned."
"It's interesting, right?" He spit out a glob of toothpaste, scraping his tongue before starting to brush his teeth once more, leaning on his hand against the bathroom counter.
"Yeah. I didn't know it was that complex..." You mumbled, "Do you have work today?"
Jeno rinsed out his mouth, sighing, "Yeah, baby, I do." He placed his toothbrush next to yours, looking at you with a faux pout, "Unfortunately."
You nodded, pressing a small kiss to his lips, "Well, I'll be here when you get off." You grabbed his hands, squeezing them, "You should probably get ready to go."
Jeno chuckled, kissing your lips again, "You want me to go that badly?" He teased, "You inviting Jaehyun over or something?"
You laughed, "No. Just don't want you to be late."
Jeno's hands rested on your hips, smiling, "Don't worry about that." He kissed you again, lifting you in his arms to sit you on the bathroom counter, his hands brushing against your thighs, "I have plenty of time."
You pulled away from the kiss, smiling, "Do you though? You still have to shower, get dressed, and put gas in the car. Or were you just gonna make me pay for it again?" You teased, climbing off the counter, "Take your shower." You stepped out the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
Jeno wasn't always the most punctual, which can be frustrating to you and to his co-workers. You wouldn't necessarily blame him, but you would blame his distractions. He has a lot on his plate; school, work, your relationship. He still needed to purchase a camera for his film class. He tries to act like it doesn't bother him, but you know on nights where he stays up a little later than usual, he's dwelling on it.
You sat down at your desk, trying to distract yourself from the exhaustion you felt by watching youtube videos your professor recommended and switching between that and writing your paper. Jeno stepped out from the bathroom and you felt the heat from the shower push into the room, and you smelt his conditioner in the air as he quickly got dressed for work.
"I'll be back later, baby." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Don't wait up, alright? Take a nap or something." He ran his fingers through your hair, and you turned to look at him.
"I hope you have a good day at work." You kissed his lips, smiling softly as he turned to walk out the door, "Why do you have that mask with you?"
Jeno paused, turning to look at his bag, "Chenle doesn't think it's an actual replica, so he said he wants to check it out on our break." He sighed, pushing his hair back with his hand, "I'll see you later baby." He smiled, stepping out the door and closed it behind him.
"Okay." You whispered, listening as his keys made a metallic sound down the hallway and the hydraulic door hinge squeaking as it closed shut.
Ever since last night, you actually sat down and read Gale Weathers' book, collecting the information from her eyes. Sure, she had a pretty shallow standpoint from it; This wasn't her trauma to write about. But, it was still pretty interesting as she pieced things together.
You were at least 5 chapters in, hunched over your laptop as you read, anxiously nibbling on your nails as Gale describes the beginning of the stressful months that were ready to approach them. Until, your phone rings. Of course it rings. First time you've actually read a book instead of skimmed the pages in months. You unlocked your phone, answering the call.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Y/N, it's Jaehyun." You could hear the popcorn machine popping behind him, "Jeno's manager from the cinema."
You chuckled, "I know who you are." You smiled to yourself, wondering if Jaehyun even knew the running joke that you and your boyfriend had; prevailing him as a God, "What's up, Jaehyun?"
"Well, Jeno's running a bit late. It's nearly been an hour and I haven't gotten a call or a text or anything from him." Jaehyun's voice shrunk, "Is he there?"
"No, no, he left a while ago. I thought he was heading to work." You put Jaehyun on speaker phone, immediately clicking the Find My app, scrolling to find Jeno, "I'm looking at his location right now and it says no location found." You mumbled.
"Alright, well, I'll try to give him a call or two. You should try, too. He might have had something happen to the car." Jaehyun spoke, "Just let me know. You have my number, right?"
"Yeah, I do." You mumbled, "I'll call him right now and let you know what's up." You quickly hung up and called your boyfriend.
Okay, he had awful sense of time and he wasn't punctual in the slightest but he's never been this late to work, especially when it helps him pay his bills and pay for that new camera he needed. You pressed the phone to your ear before it immediately was sent to voicemail with the automated voice telling you what you already knew: The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time.
Seriously? You scratched the back of your head, setting your laptop to the side as you leaned against your elbows. There was one way to find him, something that he never left the dorm without.
You opened the Find My app once more, and scrolled to his AirPods. Or more rather, your AirPods that he's borrowed more than you used after you got them. If he opened them recently, you would've been able to find where exactly he was. So you did just that.
But, much to your dismay, he hasn't opened them since the night before, his location still reading as the restaurant he went to last night with Mark and Jaemin.
You called Jaehyun back, "He didn't answer the phone and I tried to see if I could see where he was from the AirPods he used, but no use."
Jaehyun sighed, "Alright, thank you, Y/N." He mumbled, "I hope he'll be able to get off the hook for this. He better have a damn good excuse."
"I hope he does." You whispered, "Sorry I wasn't much help, Jaehyun."
"Don't worry about it, Y/N. You did more work than I did." He gave a small "goodbye" and hung up the phone.
You really hoped he had an explanation for what's going on. You weren't the type of person to immediately jump to conclusions, saying that he cheated. You don't think he's stupid enough to pull something like that.
You sighed, laying your head down on the desk as you drowned in your thoughts, feeling the exhaustion take over your body as laid there.
There it was again. A clatter from the window being forcefully pulled up. You immediately perked up, the drowsiness from the nap you don't remember taking stuck to your body. Your back hurt from being hunched over the desk where you napped.
You leaned back in your chair to peek over at the window, ignoring your back begging for a little bit of leisure after you slept like a ball for the past 4 hours. It was a little after 11 o'clock, 18 minutes before it turned noon.
Standing from your desk, you approached the window and looked out the glass, shocked to find nothing, or no one. Just the dying bushes planted by the school's agricultural center, and some fucked up tanbark that kept the moisture in the dirt.
"Hey, baby."
You jumped, turning to find your boyfriend standing behind you with his prized possession covering his face. "Jesus christ, Jen." You swore, pushing at his shoulder, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Got sent home." He shrugged, lifting the mask from his face with a smile, "The car ended up breaking down, my phone died and I had to walk 4 miles down the road to get there.” He dropped his bag on the footboard bench at the end of the bed frame, setting the mask on top of it.
"Jen, you really gotta start going to work in time." You sighed, "What if you get fired?"
"Come on, baby, it's just a part-time job." He chuckled, pulling you closer to him, "I can find something else."
"Fuck, Jen, do you know how bad that'll look if they call the theater and they have to tell them you're unreliable for calling out or for showing up late?" You ranted, letting go of his hands, "You know I can't afford to pay for this dorm by myself, let alone my school payments."
"Jeez, babe, relax." He chuckled, "Come on, why don't you take some of that aggression out another way?"
"Jeno," You sighed.
"Y/N," He responded, "When's the last time you and I had nasty, angry sex, huh?" He chuckled, grabbing your hands again, "I miss you, baby." He whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, squeezing you.
You hated to admit you missed it, too. Especially when you were this annoyed with Jeno, you hated that this was turning you on, listening to him talk about it.
"Come on, baby." He whispered in your ear, guiding your hand to the bulge in his pants, "Seeing you all angry gets me worked up, baby, I can't help it."
"Jeno." You rubbed him through his pants, "Jen,"
"Hm?" He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, his hands brushing against your skin in a desperate attempt to soothe his thoughts.
"Please, baby, just listen to me for 3 seconds."
Jeno pulled away from kissing your neck, humming, "Okay, okay, I'm listening."
"Tomorrow, you're going into work and you're gonna be on time, with your phone charged and everything." You cupped his cheek, "I don't want you to lose your job because you're late."
"Okay, mistress." He teased, "You've have a little dominatrix hidden, don't you?" Jeno kissed at your cheeks, as he cupped them.
"Stop making it sexual."
He chuckled, "I can't help it, baby. I romanticize everything you do, babe." He whispered gently before he kissed you, sitting you down on the mattress of the bed, "It's cute seeing you act all tough and strict." He kissed at your skin, pressing you down against the mattress, straddling your hips.
His tongue brushed against your neck as he kissed you, his hands pushing your shirt over your head, letting your hands rest on his thighs.
Jeno pulled away from kissing at your neck, smiling down at you, "Do we have any condoms left?"
You sat up, looking at the bedside table, "Probably in the drawer."
Jeno crawled off of you to rummage through the drawer, clicking his tongue, "Damn." He mumbled, flitting through papers before he let out an exclamation, pulling out the foiled packaging from between the pages. "Got it."
"I knew you'd find it." You smiled, gasping as he pulled you closer to him on the edge of the bed by your ankles, watching him kneel down.
"Mmhmm," He hummed, pulling your bottoms down your legs, his lips kissing at your legs, "So pretty." He whispered, teasingly biting at your thigh, "Wanna taste you, baby."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair, watching Jeno's finger tangle in the waistband of your panties.
"That okay, baby?" He whispered breathlessly, his lips swollen from kissing at your legs.
You nodded, "That's fine, baby."
Jeno smiled, pulling your bottoms and underwear down your legs, kissing up your legs, his lips hovering over your cunt and his breath fanning against your wetness, "Fuck, you're already wet, baby?" Jeno's thumb rubbed at your clit, licking his lips.
"Jen..."
Chuckling, Jeno smiled, flattening his tongue against your cunt, moaning lightly as you drooled against his tongue, "Fuck, baby..."
You moaned sharply, your fingers tightening on his hair, "Jeno..."
Jeno smiled, kissing at your pussy as he continued to lick at your clit, his fingers slowly pressing into your entrance, pumping his fingers into you, "So tight, baby. So sweet." He groans, "You're so perfect, princess."
You gasped as his fingers brushed against your gummy wall, curling his fingers as his lips kissed your hip, a weak moan escaping your throat.
Jeno listened to your moans as he continued to pump his fingers inside you, sucking your clit and tasting you on his tongue. How sweet you tasted, how your slick drooled from the length of his fingers to knuckles, and how amazing your gasps and moans sounded to his ears; Like music, a symphony. If he could listen to your sounds on repeat, he would, over and over and over. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more, wanted you.
Giving a teasing peck to your slit, Jeno kissed your hip, your stomach and up your body until he stopped at your neck, taking in your scent as he struggled to unbuckle the belt he wore with his work pants. "Little help?"
You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair once more before you moved your hands down to unbuckle his belt, the echo of the buckle settling around you both, letting Jeno's lips meet your own in a desperate kiss, his tongue pushing between to rub against yours, a deep growl escaping his throat as your thumbs hooked around his bottoms, helplessly attempting to tug them down his legs. Parting from your lips, Jeno gave a breathy chuckle, his breath fanning against your face. He grabbed the condom he set down on the bedside table, keeping his eyes torn from your own for no less than a second.
Tearing it open with his teeth, Jeno gently pulled the rubber from the packaging, rolling it along his length, “Fuckin’ finally.” He whispered to himself, “I missed feeling you." He pressed kissed along your jawline, listening to the gasp leave your lips as he slowly pressed into you. "Shit, you feel so good." He whispered.
Jeno slowly started moving, and you've been thinking — actually thinking about something he mentioned that you couldn't possibly know if it was a joke or if he was serious. You dug your nails into his arm, “Wait.”
His hips immediately stilled, and he looked down at you, “You okay, baby?”
You cleared your throat shyly, “I’m fine, I just—”
“What is it?” He chuckled, brushing hair behind your ear, “You can tell me, princess.”
You couldn’t believe you were saying this, and you couldn’t even believe you were considering it. But, you can’t knock something until you try it, “I was thinking we could try it with… the mask on…” You love looking at Jeno when you were having sex. You love seeing his expressions, looking into his eyes as he was buried into you and you loved watching his brows furrow together as he gets closer to cumming. But, there was something alluring behind the idea of the mask. Almost like it was a mystery to how he’s feeling. It was sounding more exciting as every second passed. And, you could see just how excited Jeno was as he reached over to where he set the mask down, smiling at you as he pulled it on. Attempting to move, you rested your hand on his chest, “Ah, first, some ground rules.”
Jeno moved the mask to the side, his eye peeking at you, “All ears.”
“First, keep the freaky murders out of this, okay?” You started, watching him nod, “Second, this is just to test it out. I didn’t wanna just immediately cross it off the list of freaky shit we’ve done if we don’t do it.”
“Understandable.”
“Third, Roleplay is optional. But, I’m keeping anything too crazy off the table.” You looked at him, “Got it?”
“Got it, baby.” He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek, “I love you, princess.”
“I love you, too, Jen.” You cupped his cheek, kissing him on the lips, slipping your tongue along his own to reignite the fire that wasn’t completely snuffed. Jeno eagerly reciprocated, his moan vibrating against your lips.
“Damn, don’t know if I really wanna keep the mask on now.”
You giggled, pressing another kiss against his lips, “Better put it back on before I change my mind.”
Jeno placed the mask back against his face, his eyes showing the smile you couldn’t see through the barrier, “I’m gonna start moving, baby.”
“Mmhmm,” You nodded, biting your lips as you felt his hips moving at a slow pace, the moan caught in your throat bubbling over.
Jeno had some type of fixation with your hands, one hand tangling with your own as his other pinned yours against the mattress. He loved seeing your hands wrapped around his cock, his wrist, intertwined with his own. He loved feeling your hands tangled in his hair, grabbing his biceps and digging into his skin, sometimes around his neck, if you both felt that was the move. Your hands were his favorite part of you.
Jeno squeezed your hand in his own as his hips pressed into you deeper, swearing under his breath as he felt your pussy weep around his cock, “Feel so good, angel.” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Missed this pretty pussy.”
You whined, your chest heaving as you squeezed his hand in your own. Words attempted to escape, but only came out as gasps. Jeno always had a way of filling you to the brim, and bringing you to the edge quickly.
Jeno could feel how badly you missed his cock; squeezing around him, the choked moans and gasps, the way your body tensed, and how your eyes rolled behind your eyelids. Sweat lingered on his forehead behind the mask, his breath growing heavily as he watched you writhe in desperation, “Like that, baby?”
You nodded when your words betrayed you, feeling Jeno’s hands leave your own to grip your waist and move you along his length, “Fu-“ You moaned as his hips piston against your own, reaching your hand up to tangle in his hair under the fabric of the mask, “Just like that, Jeno.” You stuttered out to your best ability, the pleasure overwhelmingly covering your body in a sheen of sweat.
Jeno smirked under the mask, his thumb moving to rub at your clit to heighten your experience and bring you closer to the edge, “Such a good girl, telling me just how you want it.”
Every word Jeno said pushed you closer to the edge, your legs mindlessly wrapping around his hips, “Feels so good… I’m almost there, Jen.”
“Me too, princess.” He gasped, his eyes trained on where you two met, the white, creamy ring sitting at the base of his cock, “Fit together so perfectly.” He moaned out, his thumb continuing to rub harsh circles on your clit, “Feel it, baby? ’S like you were made for me. Such a pretty cunt for my cock.”
Your fingers tightened around his hair, tugging at the strands as he continued to speak, “Jen…”
“You cummin’ already, baby?” He chuckled, “Such a good girl, cumming on my cock. Wish I could fill you up and make you mine already. Wanna show everyone you’re my girl.”
As he continued his assault on your cunt, you hung onto his every word, your pussy clenching around him. The ability to form sentences with words and exclamation has long since been fucked out of your brain, the only thing repeating in your head was, “Jeno, Jeno, Jeno.”
Jeno let out a raspy moan, the mask brushing against your chest as you felt his cum fill the condom, the heat filling your belly with warmth. Your chests both raised in sync as you attempted to catch your breath. Pulling the mask off, Jeno stilled inside you, smiling down at you sweetly, "Good job, baby."
You smiled back, pecking his lips, "Good job to you, too." You hummed, leaning back on your elbows, "Okay, pull out. I gotta piss before I develop a UTI."
"I love when you talk dirty to me." He teased, pulling out of you slowly before he laid back on the bed, steadying his breathing. Laying his head on the arms he crossed behind his head, he glanced around the room while he waited for you to come back from the restroom, “Did you get any work done on your paper?”
Returning from the restroom, you laid down beside him, “No, because someone gave me a call saying some guy was missing and they didn’t know where they were.”
Jeno rolled his eyes, “Haha.” He laughed sarcastically, “I told you, the car broke down. I couldn’t do anything but walk there.”
“I’m just teasing.” You nudged him, curling against his side as he wrapped his arm around your waist, the both looking at one another sweetly.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
“For what?”
“I know I’m shitty with getting to places on time, and you have every right to be mad at me for this. You shouldn’t be the only one who needs to deal with this.” He brushed his fingers along your side, rubbing his thumb along your hip, “I’m gonna listen to you, okay? I know it seemed like I wasn’t paying attention but I was.”
You pressed your forehead against his, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “I know, Jen. And, I appreciate you for everything you already do.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, Jeno.”
You both settled for relaxing and enjoying one another’s company, especially considering you both rarely got days off together. Jeno played a movie on his charged phone, which you both cuddled and watched. And it wasn’t Stab much to your surprise. It was something you suggested. You used that as proof that he loved you, even if it was something small like this; Cuddling, watching a movie together, sharing kisses and random thoughts either of you had about the film. You couldn’t wait for another day like this, even if it was years away.
You don’t remember falling asleep, and you don’t remember Jeno leaving for work that morning. You don’t even think he said goodbye, and it didn’t smell like his shampoo in the dorm room, nor his cologne. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced around the room, for any sign he left for work; a note, a text message on your phone screen, or even a Tupperware bin with some food he made or ordered in. And after a long look around the room, you found the post-it note stuck to the paper of your notebook with all the information you could think to include in your report of the Woodsboro murders that read; “Be back later. Went to work. Make sure to finish your paper. Love you.” And in smaller hand writing underneath his already small lettering, he wrote, “P.S. Left some dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll do the wash later.”
Setting the note down, you sighed, walking around the small dorm room to find said clothes he left on the floor, but you couldn't find it. You checked the back of his chair, the bathroom, by the dresser, but you couldn't find it. You squat down, looking underneath the bed to find, lo and behold, the dirty clothes he left on the floor. You wondered how much of a rush he could've been in to kick them under the bed.
You reached under the bed, grabbing the clothes only to immediately drop it as soon as you pull it out, your hands covered in red liquid. It covered the floor where you had dropped it, a "splat" echoed in your head after you'd done so. It wasn't as thick and red as blood, and it definitely wasn't as thin and clear as water. You couldn't decipher what it was. It dried down quickly on your hands and the floor.
Horror aside, you rised from the ground, and grabbed a brush to clean the mess off the floor — you'd interrogate Jeno later — and scrubbed the living hell out of the floor. You were sure the finish over the hardwood floors were coming off by how hard you were scrubbing. You had to get the deposit back for the dorm room, even if you had to scrub the floor on your hands and knees.
Kneeling there, you felt tears brim your eyes as you thought to yourself, "What exactly am I cleaning up?" You felt your arms burn with each motion you made, you felt your breathing grow heavy. You could count this as your workout for the week.
"Jeno, you idiot." You whispered to yourself, the tears rolling down your face, gasping for air. "God, this is so stupid." You used your sleeve to wipe at your cheeks, a shaky breath escaping your lips.
You tried to push the thought from your mind, deciding to just focus on your other preoccupation, which was sitting inside your laptop, begging for any type of attention from you divided brain. So, you did. Cross-referencing your notes, reading the PDF of the books on your laptop and then switching over to Microsoft Word to type anything that came to mind, as long as it's relevant.
Yet, you could feel your mind drifting.
You sat there, pausing as you thought about everything you've read as if you could even begin to connect it to your life. There's so much Sydney Prescott went through that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Rubbing your temples, you were reaching the final stretch of the paper, attempting to type out a conclusion that would make any type of sense for it.
The dorm room opened and you turned briefly to find your boyfriend walking in with the earbuds in his ears, "Hey, baby." He walked over, pecking your head, "How's the paper coming along?"
You tapped your pen against your notebook, "I'm stuck."
Jeno began to dress down from his work uniform, his eyes glancing at his side of the bed, the green and white heavy duty scrub brush laying on the ground, covered in the diluted red suds. "Did you grab the clothes?"
"I was trying to." You mumbled, "What was on them?"
"Why'd you do that?" Jeno voice was deeper and you can see his brows furrow as he looked at you.
You turned around in your seat, looking at him, "I was trying to help."
"I told you I'd do it." He shouted.
"Jen, I was just-"
"I said I'd pick them up and wash them."
You glanced down at the clothes on the floor, whatever was on them leaking between the floorboards and you winced at the thought of it staining the floor. "I just wanted to help! The laundry basket isn't far from where you put them."
"Well, I was in a rush. I didn't have time to throw them in the basket. That's why I left them on the floor."
You sighed, rubbing your eyes, "I just thought I was saving time by moving it to the basket."
Jeno pulled his work shirt off, groaning, "I didn't want to ruin the other clothes in there."
"And just leave it to soak into the flooring?"
"No— God, fuck." He threw his work shirt into the laundry basket before picking up the soiled clothes and placing them inside, "There, happy?"
You looked at him, "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing!" He grumbled, "Just wish you didn't have such lousy faith in me."
"I never said I did."
"You sure as hell implied it." He grabbed the basket and walked out the dorm room to the laundry room down the hall.
Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head before you went back to your paper, finishing it off in record time. It was finally time to prepare your paper to be printed, turned in and graded. You unplugged your laptop, making sure to save your finished paper before you shut it off and carried it out to the library.
You gave the two dollars and fifty cents to the librarian to use the printer, and stood by the machine to print out your report.
As the belt of the printer echoed through the library and watched each paper spit out after one another, the ink bleeding into the back, you were now preoccupied with everything you read about the Woodsboro murders, what exactly your boyfriend was upset about and whether or not, you should be the one to apologize. You didn't think you were doing anything wrong. You thought you were helping by grabbing the clothes. You really weren't concerned about whatever was on it anymore; all you know is you were happy it wasn't blood.
Maybe this whole report was getting to your head. You've read Sydney Prescott's encounters too much to the point you were scared what she went through was happening to you. How impossible is it?
You're just paranoid. You're being delusional and dramatic and you could only do your best to gaslight yourself into believing you're being a crazy girlfriend who had no reason to make your boyfriend feel like an idiot.
Drowning in your thoughts, you didn't draw your eyes away from the printer, unaware of the beeping it gave you to grab the papers it finished printing out.
Like you were a puppet, you grab the papers, tucking them under your arm with your laptop, and made your way to the hole puncher, pressing down on the lever after setting the papers inside.
Everything felt like ten tasks wrapped into one as you did them, like it was neverending.
You hole punched the papers, and placed them onto the counter, "Hi," you smiled to the librarian.
"Hi, what can I help you with?" She reciprocated the smile.
"I wanted to purchase one of the report covers." You nodded your head to the item, opening your wallet.
She rised from the chair, grabbing the cover.
You glanced down at the glass box you placed your laptop and papers on, eyeballing a newspaper that was displayed in the box. From what you could read through the glass, there seemed to have been some recent murders around the area. Jesus, you spent these last two days inside like some recluse and people have been dying.
“Can… Can I also get one of these papers?” You asked, pointing at it through the glass.
The librarian nodded her head as she set the items down, using the key on her keyring to open the glass case and grab a newspaper, setting it down beside the covers and your items, “All right, your total will be 5 dollars even.”
You dropped the bill onto the counter, grabbing your items and made your way out of the library. You anxiously hurried back to your dorm, opening the door to the room, setting the items down on your desk. The newspaper laid flat on your desk, your eyes reading over the article from a distance.
It was nauseating, reading over the details. Two people gone in two days… It was hard to stomach it.
You sat down on your chair, staring at the front page. To think you were perfectly fine while these people were living their last day being tortured. Obviously, you couldn’t have worn a cape and saved them, but, you wished there was something you could’ve done to prevent something like this from happening. The addresses seemed all too familiar. Like, you’ve seen them before. Somewhere familiar almost.
The door opened and you heard a sniffle from the doorway, “Oh, baby.” Jeno whispered, wandering over to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I-I had a rough day at work, hearing shit from Jaehyun and everyone about yesterday, and I took it out on you and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be making a big deal over you helping, especially not since our anniversary is tomorrow.”
You rubbed his head as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, “It’s okay, baby.” You kissed his cheek, “Hey, have you heard about this?” You motioned to the newspaper.
“About what?” He lifted his head, looking at the front page of the newspaper, “Yeah… Yeah, I heard about it. Chenle was mentioning it at work today.”
“It’s sad.”
“It is.” He sighed, rubbing your shoulder with his hand, “All we can do right now is just be happy it wasn’t us.”
You felt the lump in your throat strain as you tried to keep your tears back, “I guess you’re right.”
Jeno pecked your cheek, glancing at the papers on your desk, “You finished the report?"
“Yeah.” You folded the newspaper up, setting it off to the side, flitting your fingers through the paper, “Wanna read it?”Jeno scoffed, “Uh, yeah.” He grabbed the paper, beginning to read through it in silence, as if he was absorbing the information. You sat there, waiting for his input, which was often accompanied by the mention of his favorite movie.
Jeno read the pages all too quickly, turning to look at you, “You always have such a way with words, baby.” He set them down beside you, “You’ll definitely get a high grade on it.”
You smiled, threading the paper through the loops, preparing it to be turned in, the cover with your name, title of the report, class, et cetera, et cetera at the top. “I’m glad you think so.”
“You put work into it. Compassion, care, intellect. You would deserve it.”
“How’d the wash go?”
“They’re in the dryer right now.” Jeno leaned back on the bed, pulling his phone out, “Should be done in 20 minutes. More or less.”
Your heart still ached from what Jeno said earlier, so you returned his answer with silence, not able to find words to express yourself. At least, not yet. You decided to keep it under wraps until after your anniversary tomorrow. After the party. After Halloween.
It was Halloween night. Jeno and you have spent the beginning of your anniversary cuddling in bed, whispering soft “Happy Anniversary”’s to one another. He took you out to breakfast, lunch and shopping. “Just to show you off,” Jeno tried to convince you. But, now, it was time to sit through the two hour long movie Jeno and you both shared every anniversary. Jeno thought it’d be funny to dress up in the Ghostface costume for the evening, since he was the “star” of the movie. He said that, “behind the mask, it wasn’t just Billy Loomis or Stu Macher. Together, they worked as one.”
“I got an A on my paper.” You briefly mentioned as Jeno drove you both to his work place. Turns out, his car just needed a jumpstart.
“That’s great, baby. I knew you’d get a good grade.” He chuckled, turning his head to look at you before looking at the road again, “What’d you get docked off?”
“Turns out, I was a bit too sympathetic in my writing. I got docked a few points for ‘appearing too biased’.” You shrugged, “It’s whatever.”
Jeno chuckled, “Well, I thought it was amazing.” He smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the theater, “Just goes to show that you have a better point of view than other people. Not everyone will understand that.”
Unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag, you exited the car, “I guess, but I understand it from my professor’s perspective. It’s supposed to be an informational report, not an opinion discussion board.”
Jeno followed, locking the door behind you both, “Doesn’t mean you can’t share your opinion.” He grabbed your hand in his own and guided you to the front doors of the theater. The theater was covered in Halloween decorations, and it was unfortunate that it’d all have to come down after this evening.
Jaehyun and Jeno’s other managers were handing out drinks and popcorn to your boyfriend’s coworkers, who wandered off to the theater they were all familiar with. Approaching the counter, you heard a loud “Boo!’’ echo off the walls, causing you to jump and hold your hand to your chest.
“Chenle, what the fuck?” You scolded, glaring at him through your lashes.
“Dude, Chenle, I told you not to do that stuff tonight.” Jeno sighed, rubbing his temples, “I told you Y/N’s been freaked out cause of all the shit happening.”
“My bad. I meant to scare Jeno more than I did to you, Y/N.” Chenle chuckled, “Sorry.”
You sighed softly, “Doesn’t help that it already happened.”
Jeno wrapped his arm around your shoulder, silently comforting you as he spoke with Chenle, “We’re wearing the same costume.”
“We, indeed, are.” Chenle sighed, “You just can’t stop copying me.” He glanced down at the mask he held in his hand, “Is that the replica? Are you seriously wearing it to this?”
Jeno scoffed, “Where else am I gonna wear it?” He questioned, moving up in the line as it progressed, “I can’t keep it hanging up on my wall forever.”
Your heart settled in your chest as you walked up to the counter, looking at Jaehyun, mouthing a quiet, “Help.”
Jaehyun already knew the predicament you were in; forced to listen to the conversation of two movie buffs talking about “Stab!” He’s had to deal with it for the last 4 years the two had worked there. There was times he’s even had to apologize for interrupting their precious reminiscences of the movie. “Chenle, Jeno, Y/N, what can I get for you guys?”
“Jaehyun!” Chenle greeted him over the counter with open arms, “Be a doll and get the lady some Sour Patch. I scared her half to death trying to scare her boyfriend.”
Jaehyun sighed, glancing at you, “Freaked out about those things happening around town?”
“You could say so.” You accepted the candy the man offered, “Just found about it yesterday, too.”
“Yeah, she could hardly sleep last night.”
“Babe,”
“What?” Jeno shrugged, “Not saying it’s a bad thing. Just a little uncharacteristic of you.”
You sighed, letting Jeno grab the popcorn and the drinks for you two, “Thank you, Jaehyun.”
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He smiled, nodding his head to you.
Jeno guided both you and Chenle to the theater the movie was showing in, letting you take the lead up the stairs. There they were, the seats you both sat in 3 years ago, still in the condition you remember them in. So many people have sat in these chairs and would never understand just how much it has meant to you and your relationship. You sat in the aisle seat, gently taking the drinks in your hand as your boyfriend sat down beside you. He was quick to lift the arm rest between you two to pull you closer to him, his arm wrapped around your waist with the popcorn bucket sat in between you both. He accepted his drink and set it down in the cup holder.
“Just like all those years ago.” Jeno sighed, resting his head on top of yours.
You smiled to yourself, grabbing his hand in your own, “As much as I pretend to hate this movie, it still has a special place in my heart.”
Jeno kissed your knuckles, watching as his co-workers and plus one’s fill their seats. The smell of butter on popcorn filled the air, and the quiet chatter between everyone echoed off the wall.
Jaehyun entered the theater, standing at the front near the screen, “Happy Halloween, everyone!” He greeted, crossing his arms over his chest as everyone repeated the words, “Much to my reluctance, your coworkers requested this movie to be shown because of the connotation that it is the halloween movie to watch.”
Jeno and Chenle both gave hoots and hollers at the mention of their suggestion getting picked.
“It also happens to be the first movie our favorite visitor saw with her boyfriend here at the theater.” Jaehyun motioned to both you and Jeno, everyone turning to look at you, “This is also a token of our appreciation to our team for the close end-of-the-year. We would not be here without all of your guys help and hard-work.”
The theater filled with clapping, cheering and sweet words called out to everyone’s favorite manager.
“Settle down, everyone.” He chuckled, “Alright, everyone. Presenting this evening is Stab! Please silence your cell phones and enjoy the movie.”
The lights turned down and you watched the film light up the screen. No previews, no movie trailers, just pure film. It started out how it always did; Casey Becker popping popcorn on the stove, the harsh lighting of her house bringing out the color of her blonde hair.
Despite watching the movie multiple times, every fake jumpscare, every fake gore still made you jump and turn away from the screen. Jeno chuckled, comforting you as best he could, pecking your head.
"I've got to use the restroom." You whispered, attempting to stand up.
"Wait, you'll miss it." Jeno focused on the screen as he watched the movie intently, absorbing everything.
"Jen, we see the movie all the time. I'm sure I know what happens." You stood from the seat, glancing at the row behind you, gasping softly.
The row that was once filled with Jeno's coworkers was now empty with a horrific scene that you couldn't stomach.
Heads slumped forward, bodies slack, popcorn spilling out on the floor as the hands they had on the paper bucket were loosened.
You nudged Jeno's shoulder, unable to speak, who only glanced behind him, a sigh escaping his lips, "He always does this."
"What?" Your brows furrowed, "Jeno, what?"
Jeno set the popcorn down on the now empty seat beside him, where Chenle was.
"You... You—"
Jeno covered your mouth with his hand, covering his face with the mask, speaking through the mesh, "You're too trusting."
You felt your bottom lip quiver as he looked at you through the eyeholes, the tears rolling down your cheeks. You were an idiot, such an idiot. The sneaking out despite having his keys, the car "breaking" down, the dirty clothes, the disappearing. How didn't you see it? How didn't you see that he was the problem this whole time?
"You seriously believed I wasn't doing anything against your wishes?" He whispered, "You're such a dolt. You'd think reading all the books on criminal behavior would have made you more aware of what you were getting into."
"Jen..." You mumbled through his hand, "Please, ju-just let me go. I-I won't tell anyone."
Jeno clicked his tongue as he nodded his head towards Chenle wandering around the ground floor, holding Jaehyun by the back of his neck, bringing you both face to face, "You're too cute, thinking you'll be getting out of this."
The movie continued to play in the background and you couldn't help but repeat all the lines in your head.
Jaehyun struggled against Chenle's grip, his brows furrowed.
"For what it's worth, I actually was in love with you." Jeno whispered in your ear, "Every time I was with you, I felt butterflies in my stomach and my chest ached every time I thought about being apart from you." He rested his chin on your shoulder, "Consider this orientation."
He wrapped your hands around a clip pointed blade, one you didn't even know he owned, guiding it to point at Jaehyun's stomach, yet not piercing the skin just yet.
"All you have to do is push this blade into his belly. Kinda like gutting a pig."
You shook your head, your face contorting as he explained it to you. The tears continued to roll down your cheeks and over the black gloves Jeno wore.
"I told you she didn't have it in her, Jeno." Chenle chuckled, "She's too humanitarian."
"Shut up." Your boyfriend — or rather, at this point, your ex-boyfriend — glared, "She's gonna have to get some blood on her hands if we don't want to go down by ourselves."
Jaehyun attempted to yell, Chenle's hand covering his mouth quickly.
During the little squabble the two wannabe Ghostface's were having, your hand loosened on the knife that Jeno had released to point at Chenle.
Jaehyun and you both made eye contact, silently communicating with one another. He nodded his head to the knife in your hand, you shook yours, and he looked at Jeno, raising his eyebrows. You knew what he was telling you to do. "Use the knife on your boyfriend who was actually a homocidal maniac and planned this whole entire thing."
Using the knife Jeno planted in your hand was you accepting that everything you put in for the last 3 years was over. That despite all your efforts to put him up on a pedestal as the "best boyfriend who might have an odd obsession with this slasher film" was all for nothing. That all those things people have whispered about him was true and that you were nothing more than enabler. That you were none the wiser to all these strange behaviors coming from your boyfriend.
It made you nauseous to believe that were put into this situation and you dragged innocent people into it.
Jaehyun was almost begging you, pleading you, to set all those feelings aside and to get the upper hand in this situation. He wanted you to realize that this may be the end of 3 years but that you'll be free from the gossip, from the worry of what he was truly doing, from spending an extra 3 years trying to convince yourself that Jeno is a good guy and not some maniac under wraps.
You shook your head, feeling your bottom lip tremble as you considered the options. You could either let the two toy with Jaehyun and yourself like you guys were fashion dolls, or you could attempt to end this now and give them a taste of their own medicine. It was hard to detach yourself from Jeno — you had spent every day of your life with him after that first day. You both moved in, you adjusted your schedules for one another, you shared bills, you shared chores, you shared one another. You drag your eyes along the mask that Jeno wore, silently wishing it was just some big, giant cruel prank that would end with Ashton Kutcher coming out with a camera crew and a team telling you you had gotten punk'd in this day and age.
I can't, I can't, I can't, you whispered to yourself as the tears were pouring from your eyes, gripping the knife and turning in Jeno's arm; which seemed to loosen out of habit; the knife meeting his abdomen.
"Ow!" Jeno looked at you, glaring, "You stabbed me!"
You held the crimson-stained blade in your hand, sobbing, "Please, Jen... Please don't do this!"
He looked to Chenle, then back at you, "I've never been stabbed before."
Jaehyun used the distraction as a way to make his way out of Chenle's grasp, blocking you with his body, "Both of you, you can walk away from this."
You let Jaehyun block you, exchanging the knife between your hands, allowing him to hold it out in front of him.
"Walk away?" Jeno's gloved hand covered the wound, "It's too late for that." He chuckled darkly, "You know why other killers get caught so fast?"
"Jeno, please stop!" You screamed.
"Because they don't take the extra precautions; different sized shoes than regular ones, different cologne, different clothes than regular. They never take the time to make a whole new persona."
The two walked up the stairs, pushing you both into the back row, Jaehyun's hand holding your shaking one in his, "Jeno, Chenle, please. Let us go. You already got everyone else in the theater. What does it matter if there's 2 left?"
"Because if she lives," Chenle pointed, "We're suspects."
"And if you live," Jeno whispering almost sinisterly, "She has a witness."
"I won't say a word, please... please, Jeno, you know I won't. You know I won't say anything." Your bottom lip wobbled, "Just let us go."
The movie continued to play in the background, the contours of the mask illuminated by the scene on the screen, "Don't you remember this scene, Y/N?"
You glanced at the screen briefly, being reminded of the first date you both shared; It was when Billy confronted Sydney after being arrested. Jeno was holding you close to his chest that first day together, like he didn't have a care in the world that it was your guys first date.
You shut your eyes, squeezing Jaehyun's hand in your own, which he reciprocated in comfort. Jeno spoke, but you tuned it out, trying to calm down from the anxiety attack that rised in your chest.
Jaehyun, Jeno, Chenle. Chenle, Jeno, Jaehyun. The conversation continued on and on, each arguing with one another as if it was over the last slice of pizza.
You weren't a final girl, and never did you have it in you to be a final girl. Like Chenle said, you're too humanitarian. But, you stood against the wall, your heart thumping in your chest as Jaehyun defended you both with the knife.
Everything was a blur; Jeno and Chenle teaming up against Jaehyun, Jaehyun receiving a wound on his cheek, You couldn't move. You were frozen. This wasn't a movie, it wasn't a stupid sequel to "Stab!". You were forced to watch this go on, and you could barely move.
Jeno gave a final look at you through the mask, before a thud echoed across the theater, Chenle falling right after.
You sobbed silently as you looked at your boyfriend laying on the floor of the theater, annoyed to see the cold pvc plastic of the mask and not his handsome face that you grew so familiar to seeing.
Jaehyun kneeled beside you, grabbing your hand, "Come on. We've gotta get out of here." He helped you up, and you half expected for Jeno to follow after you, not as this monster he became, but as your boyfriend.
"Jeno..."
"No, come on." Jaehyun whispered, letting you continue to stare at him as he lead you down the hallway of the auditorium. "Last time I hire Stab fanatics." He grumbled to himself, sitting you down at a square table in the lobby as he called the police on the theater's phone.
You glanced at Jaehyun, noticing the blood seeping through his work shirt, his breathing heavy.
"You're hurt."
Jaehyun quickly gave as much information as he could to the police, before he hung up and looked at you, "I'll be fine. First responders should be here soon."
You sighed, "I'm half expecting Jeno to come through the door and tell me he's ready to go home."
"It'll be hard to get used to." Jaehyun winced, leaning against the concession counter.
"I don't know if I want to get used to it."
Jaehyun sighed, "He tried to kill you." He mumbled, "He tried to have you kill me." He looked at you, "He didn't know you. Someone who loves you would never subjugate you to that."
The shock was enough to force you to stop crying, rubbing your arm with your hand. Jaehyun was right; if Jeno truly loved you, he'd never put you into this situation. The sirens and lights reflected and echoed off the walls just as the first responders arrived.
Jaehyun offered his hand to you, which you kindly took as he led you out the door.
It's been weeks since everything at the theater went down. Jaehyun and you met up frequently for emotional support. You're in therapy after everything that happened. You'd still find yourself thinking about Jeno, waking up in the morning questioning where he was.
That evening at the theater, after the police arrived, Jaehyun was transported to the hospital for treatment. Leaving you alone outside the theater, sniffling to yourself. They exited just as quickly as they entered.
"Didn't see anything." One of the police officers said to another and you whipped your head towards them, making it completely obvious that you were listening.
"You telling me there wasn't two adults in hooded robes with those cheesy Ghostface masks?"
"Nope. Only those victims in the seats."
You moved back in with your mother after that. You spent more of your time looking over you shoulder, in fear you'd see your ex-boyfriend with a knife, rather than enjoying your life as it is now.
You could hardly settle in your bedroom, laying on your side watching the movie on your television screen. Nothing too exciting, just a re-run of Mrs. Doubtfire. With your head leaning on your hand and your blanket over your shoulders, you heard a creak behind you.
You didn't dare look, but from the mirror you had angled to face your bedroom door, you saw the same pvc plastic you see in your nightmares, and the shine of the blade.
copyright © 2024 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.
#tired of woobifying ghostface#happy halloweeeeeeen#lee jeno#jeno#jeno x reader#jeno scenarios#jeno smut#jeno reactions#jeno imagines#jeno imagine#jeno blurb#jeno blurbs#jeno oneshot#jeno oneshots#jeno timestamp#jeno timestamps#nct#nct x reader#nct scenarios#nct scenario#nct smut#nct imagine#nct imagines#nct blurb#nct blurbs#nct oneshot#nct oneshots#nct timestamps#nct timestamp#thewonandonly
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★Random Observations ★ +18
☆A Mix of Astro and Life observations.
☆People who have lots of asteroids and/or planets related to sexuality/attractiveness on Capricorn, relax, you will age like fine wine, probably becoming Milfs/Dilfs.
☆This observation is personal: I am impressed that many people talk about Mars in Capricorn and/or touching Saturn indicating a small dick. I am a native of that and I think that having 7 inches is not something small.
☆The year i had Mercury in Scorpio in 8th house in the SR chart, i started seeing things, to the point that I thought I was going crazy, I saw shadows, I saw things like bugs everywhere and I felt like some dark entities or presences tried to getting closer to me (Plus is trine with Neptune and opposite Uranus).
☆As a Mars dominant person I love hanging out with people who are also Mars dominant; we tease each other a lot, there is more frank and dark humor, lot of aggressiveness in a funny way, and I always feel rejuvenated after hanging out with people like that.
☆Why i'm using choso here? Because acquaintances have told me that I look like Choso lately (Its Just my face of sleep deprivation). And i like him.
☆You can be a lot like your Moon when you where kid but when you're older it can become your red flags because they can keep running unconsciously in other forms. For example: I have Libra Moon conjunct Black Moon Lilith (h58) and when i was a kid my focus was constantly on having relationships with the opposite sex, very amorous, indecisive and a little liar. But being in square with Mars together I was very explosive at home. Older Me: Persuasive, sometimes its very easy for me to see the psyche of people, and sometimes i know how to manipulate people. Another example: An acquaintance has Nessus (7066) in exact conjunction to her Moon in Capricorn and one would think that her mother was the abusive one but no, it was her. She used to choke her sister when she was little just because and was a little Machiavellian and violent. Older Her: Cold, emotionally abusive, emotionally irresponsible, tactless, hyper-individualistic, very materialistic.
☆When you have a lot of things in the 7th house, it is difficult to take control of those energies because most of the time they are projected without you realizing it, but others can see it clearly. For example: Mars in the 7th house you can see that others are aggressive with you, but others sees you as an aggressive person. Lilith in the 7th house you can see that people are abusive towards you but it is because people see you as a threat.
☆Sorry not sorry but all Leos I know have some serious ego issues.
☆I've seen that Venus in Taurus people It is as if they were proud of the sexual partners they've had(bodycount) and they usually like to keep them close in their life, they are not possessive and loyal like Venus in Scorpio but they like to possess people they consider valuable in sensual /sexual terms, but in reality sometimes it is only for aesthetics, they can even keep their sexual partners more for aesthetics than for the inner world of the person. Sorry Venus in Taurus, but these are your red flags. ☆When you have very Uranian transits or transiting Uranus is making intense aspects with your personal planets (Transit Uranus conjunct Natal Venus/Mars/Sun/Etc), it can feel like very adolescent periods, almost as if there were no consequences for your actions, since Uranus is not very friendly with Saturn (because Saturn represents consequences/ karma and Uranus represents rebellion), then you can go through a bit of a YOLO period for like 2-3 years, but when this period is over the weight of reality will come back to you with a heavy force and if during this Uranian period you behaved very badly/stupidly and quite irresponsibly with others, don't worry because later Saturn will come to dump all the weight of karma/consequences/reality and responsibility on you. Sorry not Sorry.
#astro notes#astrology#astro observations#astrology blog#zodiac tumblr#astrology observations#astro community#astrology posts#scorpio#zodiac side of tumblr#venus in taurus#venus in scorpio#leo#taurus#moon in capricorn#mars in capricorn#capricorn#libra#solar return observations#solar return#mercury#mercury aspects
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never again | cs55
pairing: carlos sainz x norris!reader
scenario: dealing with the aftermath of your break up you come to the conclusion that some things just aren't meant to be
warning(s): fluff (we love big bro lando), a whole lot of angst, age gap (reader is 20, carlos is 30)
a/n: okay so I was asked to do a part 2 of this drabble by @ernegren. the public asked, i delivered
MASTERLIST
The white noise inside your head was enough to muffle the world around you, sounding like you were submerged under water. There was something on the TV but what it was you couldn't be sure of, only the fact that is something Lando had chosen. The coffee in your hands had gone cold by now as the only thing in your mind was the last time you saw Carlos on loop.
You felt like an idiot really. Part of you had known that things with Carlos were too good to be true. He had been attentive, caring, always leading his ear when you needed to have a rant about something that had annoyed you to no end. For once you believed you had something pure and beautiful with him, however, everything the two of you had built had begun to fracture and crumble when Lando had told the very things that caused your doubt to spring to the surface.
You didn't know where he had heard it, and, to be fair, you didn't care. Just that one sentence had invaded your thoughts for a week since then. I heard Carlos was in a bet, he had said, rumour is that it involved dating you.
Your heart broke at that moment. It still does when you think about it, but you didn't want to believe him. You brushed your brother to the side and chose the man suspected to only be with you for six months because of a bet. Oh, how stupid you felt now, legs tucked underneath you on his couch with a mug of cold coffee in your hands. You had grovelled and apologised profusely for not believing him, but Lando just ignored your consistent string of apologies and brought you into his apartment.
Lando glanced over at you as the credits rolled. He sighed as he saw the far-off look in your eye, biting the inside of your cheek as your fingers tightened around the mug. “You gonna drink that?”
“Huh?” You blinked before finding Lando's concerned gaze on you. You hated that look. He always gave you the same look whenever something didn't plan out as you had hoped.
“I said ‘you gonna drink that'?” Lando leant forward to grab his own coffee mug from the table. “I'd imagine it's stone cold by now.”
You sat back against the cushions, taking a sip of your coffee as you did before grimacing at the coldness. Lando shook his head before taking the mug from your hands and disappearing into the kitchen. You tipped your head back against and stared up at the ceiling while listening to Lando move about the kitchen with ease. But even focusing on something as simple as breathing couldn't erase the emotional pain.
It was three days after Lando had told you about the alleged bet that the insecurities began to run rampant. The second guessing, the fear of not being enough. You had confronted Carlos about the allegation the day before you walked out, but he had insisted it was just people stirring the pot and trying to cause drama. You should've left then, should've walked out days before and never looked back, but you didn't. Instead, you chose to stick around and now with a confession from the man you loved, you were struggling.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, drawing your attention back to the present. You had your suspicions who it was from, but you couldn't bring yourself to find out if you were right. Another buzz, another text. Why couldn't he just take a hint already?
“Is that him?” Lando returned with two steaming mugs of coffee and placed them on the coffee table. “I swear to God-”
“Lando, just leave it,” you sighed as you shifted your position to get more comfortable. “Nothing you do or say can change the fact I was nothing but a bet.”
Lando scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You lean against him, your body exhausted from the emotional toll of the last few days. You couldn't ask your brother to stop talking with Carlos. It wouldn't be fair as the two were still rather close despite everything. He kissed your temple as the two of you settled on the couch.
“You know, Oscar's got a thing for you.”
“Lando!”
♡☆♡
Mexico was warm. Warmer than what you remember from the last time you visited the country, but Mexico City was one of your favourite cities in the world. Mexican culture was something you could fully embrace from the vibrant colours that adorned the city to the rich food and spices. You loved everything about it.
You stood off to the side while Lando was wrapped up in the media circus of the weekend. Your eyes followed his every move while you waited for the perfect moment for the two of you to slip back in the McLaren hospitality suite, safely tucked away from the media for a short while before Lando was needed again.
He had given you the option of staying in his driver's room so you could avoid crossing paths with Carlos. However, it wouldn't do you any good staying locked away on your own. The media had already caught wind of your break up with Carlos, and you being absent in the paddock after seeing you arrive with your brother would only add fuel to their fire.
Lando glanced in your direction and gave you a reassuring smile, which prompted you to shoot one right back at him. But that piece didn't last for much longer.
“y/n?”
You breathed sharply as your body tensed. You knew it was possible, running into him, but you didn't expect it so soon.
You turned your head to face him, catching his gaze in the light of the warm Mexican sun. He had barely changed, still looked as irresistible as ever, though the dark circles under his eyes told a story of lack of sleep. Part of you felt a twisted sense of satisfaction that he was losing sleep but the other part was concerned; he couldn't afford to lose sleep driving at over 300 kilometres per hour, it's dangerous for him and the other drivers.
The air was thick between you. You didn't know what you were supposed to do. What does one do or say around the man who had ripped out your heart and trampled all over it?
“Carlos,” you sighed. You brushed some hair back behind your ear as you turned your gaze back to Lando. “What do you want?”
Carlos winced at your tone, but then again, he didn't expect anything less. Not after how things ended with you packing your bag and walking out without looking back. “How are you?”
“How do you think I am?” You snapped before whipping around to face him. “How do you think I'm doing after finding out I was a bet amongst friends?”
“I'm sorry, okay, I never meant for things to get that far. I never meant for you to fall in love. Hell, I never meant to care about you as much as I did, as much as I still do.” Carlos ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots in visible distress. “Can we at least talk?”
You let out a bitter laugh at the audacity. “What is there to talk about? You lied, and you lied, and you lied for months, and even when I brought it to your attention, you still had the nerve to tell me it's just people stirring shit up.” You shook your head at the absurdity of it all, wanting more of your time as if he hadn't wasted enough.
“Please, y/n, let's just-”
“No, we're not going to ‘just’ anything.” Your eyes were ablaze as you stared into him as if you were staring into his soul. “I was such a fucking idiot for believing in you, for believing what we had was real.”
“It was real, and I was an idiot. I never should've taken the bet.” Carlos inched forward, his hand hovering beside your face as if waiting for you to pull back. When you didn't move, he cupped your face, his thumb caressing your skin with the same tenderness he always had. “But the more time I spent with you, the more I got to know you, it became harder and harder to tell you and I'm so sorry, amour, I never meant for you to get hurt.”
For a moment, you allowed yourself to fall back into him. You leaned into his touch, savouring the way his skin felt against yours, adoring the way you felt safe again, even for just a brief moment. You always did feel safe around him, even before you got together. He just had the safety aura about him like nothing could harm you when he was around. Oh, if only you knew how it would all come crashing down on a moment's notice.
You swallowed as you glanced up, your eyes glittering with unshed tears, and it was like a punch to his gut all over again. “Did you ever love me?”
“Of course I did, amour,” his tone almost pleading with you as he moved his free hand to cradle the other side of your face and rested his forehead against yours. “I fell in love with how you loved to watch the sunrise every morning, I fell in love with the way your hand fits perfectly in mine; I fell in love with you a little bit more everyday.”
You closed your eyes as you lent further into his touch. His words did ease a small amount of pain in your heart, but it wasn't enough. The damage had already been done, and you didn't know if that could be repaired.
“That's the problem,” you whispered, your eyes opening again and glistening with unshed tears. “You've lied so many times, I don't even know if you're telling the truth. I've been cheated on in the past, and that hurt, but that's nothing compared to this.”
“Cariño, please, don't do this,” Carlos begged as tears of his own began to build. “I'll do whatever it takes, name it, and I'll do it, but please don't walk away.”
“You can make up for it by not making the same mistake with the next girl.” You gently pulled his hands away from your face and held them tightly in your own. You still loved him, of course you did, but you couldn't allow yourself to make the same mistake again. “If you're really sorry for what happened, promise me that the next girl you meet that you'll treat her with the respect and dignity she deserves.”
Carlos let the tear fall as he drew a shaky breath. You reached up and brushed it away with the pad of your thumb, your heart crushed by the weight of everything. He knew in that very moment he had lost you for good. He had messed up beyond belief, and now he was suffering the consequences of his careless actions.
He held your hand against his cheek and kissed your palm as another tear threatened to fall. “Promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?”
You nodded as you tried to keep in your emotions. “I promise,” you said with a weak smile. You reached up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Goodbye, Carlos.”
You pulled away from him entirely and turned on your heel as you moved on. The heartache had crushed you, a pain you had never thought you'd experience at the hands of Carlos, but sometimes things don't plan out the way people hoped, and this was one of those things.
Lando was stood by the media pen, having wrapped up the interviews not too long ago. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to as he could see the conflicting emotions in your eyes. He just silently pulled you into his arms and tucked your head under his chin.
You'd be okay, you know you would. This was just a hard lesson learnt.
#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1
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Shounen was written for young boys to help them to get stronger and find a purpose in life, thats why most shounen series end up in marriage and having kids. Japan's birth rates are dropping each year and you guys want to see Deku and Bakugou end up together instead of Deku and Ochaco getting married and having kids? The stories and media we consume has to match the standards of real life you know.
Wow… this is a lot to unpack. A normal person would just ignore this, but lucky for you, I’m a bitch when I wanna be, and I happen to have time on my hands right now.
1) “Shonen was written for young boys to help them to get stronger and find a purpose in life”
Shonen is literally just a genre that directly translates to “young men.” But I think you’re trying to define the meaning of story telling as a whole, and even still, that’s a very narrow way to view an entire genre.
Stories meant for young men, most of the time, are meant for entertainment. You have anime’s like Dragon Ball and Naruto that’s almost nothing but action scene after action scene with very little thought provoking plot, because at the time, they were written for young boys. Like, they were aired on children’s channels back in the day, young boys. And while I won’t deny that there are definitely some good lessons in both (I can’t speak much because I never finished Naruto and only got about 20 episodes into dbz) they’re not meant to make a boy “stronger.” Lessons in early shonen were meant to broaden world views and increase emotional intelligence in a way that’s easy to understand. I guess it depends on your definition of what strength is, but I feel like strength is built from personal experiences, not watching an anime.
That being said though, the shonen/young boys genre has evolved over the years in the east and the west. Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, and Attack on Titan, are all shonens, with aot being also classified as a seinen. Those are most definitely not meant for the same age group that Dragon Ball and Naruto and One Piece were written for, given the amount of gore and heavier themes presented. Now, that’s not me looking down upon those stories at all, that’s me pointing out the obvious difference in tone, despite them being classified as the same.
As the genre evolved, authors approaches have also evolved. Literally read any interview from any modern shonen author and you’ll see how unserious they are when it comes to their own stories. Gege didn’t even like writing his story past a certain point and was just trying to push through it, because it wasn’t the story he originally wanted to write. Horikoshi has always said he just wanted to tell a story with no real goal towards the audience. Chainsaw Man is literally about a guy wanting to touch some boobs??? What about any of that screams, “I’m writing this to raise the new generation of young boys into strong husbands and fathers who know their purpose in life!”
Shonen as a whole has grown into a genre meant for young adults, with heavier themes and becoming increasingly more political. It’s not the same genre it used to be, and trying to say that it is, isn’t fair and is lowkey insulting towards authors with a more progressive world view.
2) “Japan’s birth rates are dropping each year and you guys want to see Deku and Bakugou get together instead of Deku and Ochaco getting married and having kids?”
Yeah… you’re right. I’d rather see a well written relationship come to fruition than watch another male author completely disrespect their female lead and ripping away her development. Why the fuck would I, an infertile acespec queer person, give a fuck about using two fictional characters to inspire young people to get married and start a nuclear family…
Also the birth rates are dropping all over the world, don’t pretend it’s only a Japanese issue. In Asia specifically, the birth rate is going down because women are tired of men’s shit and refuse to bare their children, and I’m actually happy as fuck that other parts of the world are following in their footsteps.
Women have been treated like shit in every corner of the world for so fucking long, and we all just dealt with it because that’s what we all thought we were supposed to do. It’s about fucking time we actually put our foots down and protest in the ways that we can, which is practicing our rights to autonomy. Why tf should we be responsible to bear the children of men most of us barely even like? And why is having children a mans responsibility, when women are the ones who have to carry the babies? Besides, why the fuck would anyone want to bring a kid into the shit show that is the world right now?
We’re over populated, have a really fucked up consumption and capitalism problem which causes us to depend on disgustingly unethical ways to find resources to appease everyone, there’s fucking flowers blooming in the arctics, there’s several genocides happening in the world as a result of neglectful and corrupt governments, a literal ethnic cleansing happening, and a carton of eggs costs 12 fucking dollars while the minimum wage stays at only $7.25 and the cost of living isn’t affordable unless you’re making nearly triple the minimum wage. I don’t even wanna be subjected to this shit and I’ll be damned before I subject a child to it against their will. Most of us can’t even afford to take care of ourselves without our parents help right now.
Also, what does a gay pairing have to do with the birth rate at all? Is Deku gonna carry that baby? Or are you seriously just narrowing down Ochaco to nothing more than his incubator? If Ochaco decides to have kids one day, why should it have to be with Deku? Oh and I hate to break it to you, but Ochaco becoming a mother isn’t going to solve any of the issues you presented.
3) “The stories and media we consume has to match the standards of real life you know”
…you’re talking about a story where one of the background characters has a god damn spray bottle for a head…
It’s fiction. Superhero media, at that. None of it has to follow the “rules” of real life, and most of the time, this kind of media does the exact opposite of following societal norms. And you thinking otherwise probably made Stan Lee roll in his grave.
Also, what’re your standards for real life? Because everyone’s standards are different. If yours is to get married and live in a traditional household with five kids and one source of income in this economy, then I think you’re the one being unrealistic here.
We shouldn’t burden children with adult responsibilities. Having kids and being a “good husband” isn’t something a child should have to think about until they’re older and only if they want to. Believe it or not, not everyone’s goal is to get married and produce offspring. We should be encouraging children to do the things they like doing without having to worry about adult shit yet. Not indoctrinating them into believing that the only way for them to be a successful adult, is if they have kids.
Using shonen and other conformative media that is dead set on maintaining the status quo to brainwash kids into wanting to be parents before they even know how babies are made, is weird. Don’t be weird, anon. You sound like one of those “alpha males” with a red pill podcast, convincing young men that crypto scams are a perfectly ethical way to make quick cash.
Literally just say you’re a misogynist, and move on. And get tf out of my inbox.
P.S.
You know gay men exist in real life, right? You’re talking as if gay men aren’t real. Not only are they real, but they also have nothing to do with the birth rate dropping. Find something else to be mad about.
#anon hate#bakudeku#bkdk#it’s funny cuz I barely even talked about them#even tho anon was hating on them#everything else astounded me too much#midoriya izuku#bnha#bakugou katsuki#puff speaks#ask puff#puff answers#ochaco uraraka#uraraka ochako#you’re giving me Logan Paul vibes pls get away from me#not every story has to end with a guy winning a girl at the end#and I’m getting tired of repeating myself#ew I can’t believe I gave you the satisfaction of genuinely pissing me off
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𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞: 𝙆𝙚𝙩𝙪-𝙍𝙖𝙝𝙪
The absorptive, fiery nature of Ketu natives creates a heavy magnetic field around them that can attract individuals who carry a darkness within them which I will be exploring through a number of film/TV characters in this short observation.
This heightened sensitivity to unseen realms makes these natives more likely to attract intense or obsessive individuals, which interestingly, happens to be other Ketu natives or even Rahuvians. These dark, twisted creatures seem to have this natural attraction or fascination to the Ketuvian, as if they were drawn to their void. Though Claire Nakti explored this theme already in her Mula series, the astrological influence of the Big Bad Wolf in Magha's arc in Red Riding Hood piqued my interest. It came as no surprise to me that both Ketu and Rahu are tied to the twisted, evil monster or human obsessed with the Magha or Mula native.
warnings: spoilers!, mentions of abuse, murder and domestic violence.
For example, in Shadow & Bone, a Magha Sun woman shares an intense, hypnotic connection with a Ketuvian man, the Darkling, who disguises his dark true intentions, preying on her deep need for belonging (as he recognizes that need within himself too). His dangerous obsession with her, along with his dark ambitions and twisted mind, reveal him to be the "big bad wolf" in her story.
The same thing happens in Penny Dreadful (right), in which a Magha ASC woman falls for a Ketu-ruled doctor who has an affection for animals, providing her care and understanding to her wild nature, only to be revealed to be the vampire, Dracula. The Magha native sees his storage room filled with hung dead bodies, a chilling symbol of his horrifying nature. He becomes increasingly obsessed with her, his predatory instincts getting into conflict with his feelings with her.
Also, the Darkling would have made a fine addition to my thread of the power-hungry, commanding Ketu archetype, seeing as he is characterized by his ruthless ambition and desire for power, seeking to dominate the world and willing to manipulate others in order to achieve his goals.
Anyways, back to the topic.
Much like in Penny Dreadful, in Marvel's Jessica Jones, the Magha Moon woman was initially drawn to the alluring facade of a Ketu man who used his powers of persuasion to captivate her. At first, she enjoys the thrill, but then she becomes consumed by his darkness. He turns out to be a monster. And even after escaping him, his obsession and infatuation with her increases, endangering those around her.
In Crimson Peak, Thomas Sharpe is played by a Ketuvian, epitomizing the archetype of a wolf in disguise through his charming demeanor and hidden malevolence. Captivated by a Magha Moon woman, he is a sweet and kind gentleman, though beneath this façade lies a manipulative and dangerous character. He attempts to isolate her, slowly revealing himself to be the predator.
This reminded me of the film Rebecca, where a Ketu man portrays himself as this charismatic and caring gentleman much like Thomas Sharpe. His nature reveals itself to be controlling and extremely manipulative.
Another Ketu-ruled character functions exactly the same in the series Big Little Lies, portrayed by the Magha stellium native Alexander Skarsgård, who is a charming yet abusive husband presenting a facade of the perfect family man.
While, of course, there are positive depictions of nodal pairings in fiction, the Ketu people are just generally prone to these obsessive, dangerous energies whether the evil force is Ketu as well or not. Much like Magha Moon Julia Roberts in the film Sleeping with the Enemy, who is trapped in an abusive relationship with every aspect of her life being controlled by her husband. She plans an escape, which calls to a theme of Ketu women running away from men especially; as her character has a lot in common with Jessica Jones, Vanessa Ives (Penny Dreadful), and even Edith Cushing (Crimson Peak). All Magha natives.
Another example I wanted to add is the movie Invisible Man, directed by Mula Moon Leigh Whannell, a film about a woman who escapes from her abusive relationship with a wealthy scientist, who happens to be played by Ardra Moon Oliver Jackson-Cohen.
As you've seen and will see in this thread of examples, these Ketu characters tend to be in intense relationships with other Ketu people, and also Rahuvians, being the center of their fixation or destructive obsession. In Phantom Thread, two Ketuvians are captivated with each other and fall into a twisted relationship, the Ketu man exhibiting obsessive tendencies as he becomes increasingly controlling and possessive over the Magha Moon woman.
Circling back to Red Riding Hood, the 2011 film, starring Magha Moon Amanda Seyfried, her father is played by a Ketu native. At first, he is shown to be the loving protective figure in her life, guiding her decisions and teaching her to be cautious of the world and its evils. But then, it is revealed that he was the werewolf all along who terrorized and killed the villagers.
In Scream, the Ketu woman is instead a Mula Moon native this time. She was dating the goofy and charismatic Ketuvian boy who turned out to be one of the killers and he ultimately planned her death.
And now, this time, we have a Rahuvian who played the wolf. He, just like his Ketuvian accomplice, is portrayed as initially harmless. He comes across as caring, trustworthy and reliable, especially to the other Mula Moon native who he was dating.
In the end, both the Ketu & Rahu killers unmask themselves as the "big bad wolves".
Mula Moon Reese Witherspoon was interestingly casted in three Ketu-coded films. Freeway, inspired by the Red Riding Hood tale, depicts a friendly stranger who's portrayed by a Ketu man, offering to help her when her car breaks down on her way to her grandma's, just as the wolf tries to deceive Red in the tale. Beneath his charming facade lies a predatory and dangerous nature, as he is revealed to be a serial killer.
It is also interesting that in the film, American Psycho, she plays a character who is unknowingly dating a serial killer, played by a Ketuvian man. The movie Beast stars a Mula Sun woman who also unknowingly dates a nodal-ruled serial killer.
Then in the film Fear, this time the illusory man is a Rahuvian. He is drawn to Mula native Reese Witherspoon's character, and his true dangerous, predatory nature starts to reveal itself. His infatuation with her turns into a sick obsession, leading to a sequence of violent events.
In Split, though the wolf isn't necessarily in disguise to predate, it is interesting that Ketuvians tend to play predator-&-prey to each other.
Like in The House That Jack Built, a Magha ASC woman exemplifies the theme of the wolf in sheep's clothing in the opening scene of the movie through the character named Jack. Jack is obviously played by a Ketuvian man.
When he picks her up as a hitchhiker, he presents himself as a charming and cultured individual, engaging in a seemingly normal conversation with her while masking his true violent nature. She triggers this hideous nature within him, and she acts a catalyst to his series of murders as she's his first victim.
It is important to remember that Ketu is still a shadow planet, both Ketu and Rahu highlighting the shadowy, illusory aspects of the wolf in sheep's clothing trickery.
In the film Creep 2, there's a nod to this Red Riding Hood-&-the Wolf dynamic as the Rahuvian serial killer is known for wearing a terrifying wolf mask. As expected, much like in Freeway, the nodal killer is fascinated with the Mula native who destroys him in the end.
And in the film Beast, a Rahuvian serial killer is attracted to the Mula native, and as they date each other, she finds out his true nature. She's able to debilitate him just so that she can end his life.
Ardra serial killer in Creep 2.
Similar to the Mula serial killer in Freeway, a Mula Moon serial killer, in Netflix's new film Don't Move, comes off as an extremely friendly, kind and helpful stranger who creates a safe space just to trap his victim. Another wolf in disguise played by a nodal man.
In the series You, a Mula Moon woman becomes an object of obsession for a Rahuvian man. She dates him not knowing of his truly sick, possessive nature until he destroys her.
It is interesting that another Mula Moon woman in the series is the one to go head-to-head with the nodal killer, deceiving him as she's the one to portray herself as the wolf in disguise just as he did too.
This is shown again in Once Upon a Time, in which Red Riding Hood, played by a Magha Sun woman, turns out to be the wolf after all. All this time, she's been unknowingly turning into a werewolf on a full moon, killing villagers in her wolf form.
In the series The Acolyte, Magha Sun Manny Jacinto plays Qimir who portrays himself as an unassuming, harmless smuggler and trader who appears to hold no grand ambitions. He uses a calm, almost alluring personality to create a sense of reliability, only to be revealed as the antagonist of the story in a murder spree scene as the Sith Lord.
Ardra Sun, Ardra Moon Wagner Moura voices the Big Bad Wolf in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.
Usually playing charming, sometimes sympathetic, evil or morally grey characters, nodal natives seem to fit into this archetype the best; as the shadow planets Rahu and Ketu come off as extremely magnetizing and illusory more than any other planetary type. This consuming quality they have makes them convincing to others with their lies and illusions, just as they are convincing as the scary monsters or captivating antiheros.
The character Kai Parker is played by an Ashwini Sun native in The Vampire Diaries. He feigns remorse and uses charm to hide his predatory intentions. His duplicity is shown when he pretends to bond with Bonnie, when they were trapped together in the 1994 prison world. He creates a false sense of safety around him only to then later reveal his true schemes. He does this a couple of times, evoking sympathy for a hidden agenda.
The character Loki could be fitting under this wolf in disguise archetype. In Thor (2011), he portrays himself as the underestimated younger brother, while quietly harbouring resentment for his brother and hiding his thirst for power. In the film, he not only backstabs Thor, but he ultimately leads Laufey to his death after striking an alliance with him (turned out to be one of his tricks).
This reminded me of Dr. Facilier, voiced by an Ashwini Moon native, who tricks and deceives Prince Naveen, seeking to gain power and control. He initially portrayed himself as a helpful ally, only to become another deceptive wolf in disguise.
And the character Ursula was played by a Magha Sun, Ardra Moon native in the Little Mermaid remake; she quite literally does the same as Dr Facilier to the naive Ariel who is portrayed by Mula Moon Halle Bailey. The cartoon version of Ursula is voiced by Ardra Moon Pat Carroll.
In Last Night in Soho, a Rahuvian man is portrayed to be suave and charismatic, luring an Ashwini native into his dangerous world which leads to her tragic victimization when his predatory manipulative nature is revealed.
In the 1991 film Deceived, a Mula ASC woman discovers that all this time she has been married to a literal wolf. It is revealed, after his death, that her husband killed a man whose name he took. Another twist is revealed that he faked his own death, and he comes after her. Her husband is Ketuvian himself, of course.
Another similar film, called Double Jeopardy, in which an Ashwini Sun woman discovers that her Rahuvian husband faked his own death just to frame her.
In the series Wilderness (2023), Ashwini Sun Jenna Coleman portrays a woman who's married to a deceitful Rahu man who turns out to be the opposite person of who she thought she fell in love with.
It is interesting, and ironic, as the one who is truly victimized by all of this is the Mula Sun woman that her husband was having an affair with. The Ashwini native becomes the wolf in disguise here when she deceives her husband back, and when she stalks and approaches the Mula woman, ultimately being the one behind her death.
Going back to the Ketuvian being obsessed with the Magha native, in this example, it is a Mula Moon, Ashwini Sun native being the object of obsession. In the Beauty & the Beast live-action, Gaston portrays himself as the quintessential hero, and it is his obsession with Belle that reveals his darkness.
His aggression and his resort to intimidation and manipulation to win her over highlights his cruelty and entitlement.
I may continue this with another nakshatra lord influence, as it seems that Moon nakshatra natives experience the same themes. As they already fill in the final girl archetype too, after Ketu nakshatras, it doesn't come as a surprise at all since all three planetary influences (Moon-Rahu-Ketu) made it into my vampirism post. It makes sense that these planetary types are linked to vampires, as vampires are illusory creatures who are known to mask their true predatory nature; fitting all too well in the wolf in disguise trope, as they are predators who appear human and can very well blend in normal society.
The song Haunted was sang by Amy Lee from Evanescence. She has Ketu in the 1H. She mentioned that the song was partly inspired by the concept of feeling watched or followed, which connects with her fascination for eerie themes and darker emotions. I find it fitting under my post as these Ketu-ruled natives attract stalkers, killers, and frightening creatures in their dangerously magnetic field.
More examples of this Ketu archetype, as I seem to have reached the picture limit.
#vedic astrology#astrology#sidereal astrology#astro observations#vedic observations#ardra#ashwini#swati#magha#shatabhisha#mula#aries#gemini#leo#libra#aquarius#sagitarrius#Spotify
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Was Giovanni reminded of Tessa or Alessandra during any of the times he’s saw Peter?
i think i've been writing him as only being aware of the resemblance on a subconscious level (it's in my notes somewhere but i don't have that notebook out right now). all of the characters so far know Dick on a more personal level, so that's obviously where their brains lead them when noticing resemblance, but peter DOES look a lot like his mom, too. Gio isn't going to make the connection very easily because in his civilian world, stuff like that just doesn't happen for them...
But here's the thing: Peter acts a LOT like his mom. Both versions of her.
Dick has been taught since birth to look at all the angles before taking a leap. Sure, there's a level of faith (haha) for reckless stunts, and Dick DEFINITELY does risky shit all the time. (hello, he's a Bat.) But he at least comes to conclusions before he does any of that (even if they turn out to be wrong somehow), and that was honed by his years of Robin training. Richard Parker had a similar experience even if it wasn't Batman honed, but Ben Parker honed. Robin/Richard might have been vengeful, spiteful, and very difficult to keep up with. But they at least had the forethought to be hard to handle while putting up safety nets to fall into
Alessandra on the other hand??? She's the reckless one in their relationship. She was the "fuck it, we ball" attitude. "Leap before looking, figure it out on the way down" personality. I love love love her because she somehow manages to get through by the grace of god every time. She's super smart, yeah, but she trusts her gut and often thinks while in the moment. Her and Richard were always very similar in a lot of ways (making friends easily, a sense of adventure, very intelligent, etc) but that's the key difference with them. She gets very determined and can often get tunnel vision until she is forced to take a step back and see the bigger picture
Peter acts a lot like a mix of them, but yeah. His stunt with the detonator was a lot like "Oh I see all of the information, but there's only ONE possible way to deal with this" (there were many other ways to deal with that). He has Dick's ability to read a situation but Ales' "let's see how this goes" attitude. Makes him a lot MORE reckless than Dick was a kid, in that way. Peter is not thinking of end goals farther than "this needs to get accomplished", only "what needs to happen RIGHT NOW for that to happen?"
Gio has a version of Ales that is older, and therefore has mellowed out quite a bit. (Doesn't mean she doesn't still have it in her, though.) However Teresa is 2 years old and just starting to hit that phase of "oh look this will be fun and have no consequences, surely!"
All this to say: Gio is the Usually Real Chill step-dad in a family of Chaos Is My Last Name people, but he wouldn't have it any other way. And also Peter is the worst with giving him heart attacks (hello, stolen detonator)
#erinwantstowrite#ao3#ao3 fanfic#leap of faith ao3#peter parker#leap of faith catch me if you can#leap of faith#thank you for the ask!#dick grayson#alessandra romano-esposito#giovanni esposito#teresa romano-esposito
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