description. you thought your next-door neighbor was just being polite when he offered to help you carry in your boxes the first time you saw him, but as you adjust to your new home, you start to notice that joshua’s nice in other ways too: nice eyes, nice smile, nice arms, nice fingers, probably nice di—okay you get the point. but just how long can you go with lusting after your neighbor before giving in to your very much not-nice desires? well, lucky for you, joshua also isn’t nearly as much of a gentleman as he likes to let on.
✘ tags. smut (18+), neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as always ✘ w/c. 5.3k ✘ a/n. i have had this idea in me for a WHILE so it's good to finally get it out! honestly i feel like the story is a little rushed but whatever
there's a gentle voice coming from in front of you, but with the way you’re holding the large box up right in front of your face, you can’t see who’s speaking. “do you need help with that?”
muscles straining and sweat beading down your skin, you manage to squeak out a quick, “yes please!” a wave of relief washing over your body as you feel the box grow infinitely lighter as this man’s arms wrap around the side. “thank you so much,” you say, still gripping onto the box as you slowly walk over and lead it to the front of your apartment door a few feet away. setting it down carefully, you look up so you can finally see the face of the angel who saved you so much trouble.
“no problem," he replies politely, and as your eyes flicker up, you're taken aback by his kind smile. "you new here?"
"did the moving boxes give it away?" you joke and the man cracks a hearty laugh.
"you got me there. i'm joshua," he tells you, and you think to yourself that there can't be a name for fitting for the man. he points over to the door across from yours. "i live right there, so i guess we'll be seeing each other a lot. what's your name?"
your name falls from your lips in a haze, internally thanking your lucky stars for finding yourself an apartment that was not only close to your work but also in close proximity someone as nice as joshua. "i guess so," you reply looking down the hallway where the movers had left the rest of your boxes. "i don't suppose you'd be down for another few boxes?" you ask hopefully, wincing at the way you're so shamelessly asking for help.
joshua chuckles at your expression and you feel that the ground might as well swallow you up whole. "it'd be my pleasure. it's not often i get new neighbors who are under the age of 50."
"i've noticed that...is there a reason the average age of the residents of place is like 60?" you ask curiously as you walk down to the end of the hallway to the boxes.
"not sure," joshua says. "i guess this place is just popular with them. not that i'm complaining. noisy neighbors are never a problem for me." he gives you an awry look, and you're a bit confused before he's jokes, "unless you plan on making that something i have to worry about now."
"no!" you reply a little too quickly, flustered by the way joshua is so easily coming up with conversation. it seems as if he's so smooth with everything, and with the way you have a million thoughts racing through your head—it's a it hard to keep up. "i mean, i don't do much or anything really," you clarify, reaching down to pick up one box while joshua goes to grab the other side.
"good to know," joshua tells you with a smile, and you try not to focus too much on the way that he grunts slightly when lifting up his end. "you're always welcome to come over to my place for a drink or something," he suggests as you begin walking over to your apartment.
smiling as you set down the box, you adjust your shirt and look up at him. "i'll think about it."
you, in fact, do think about joshua's offer. you think about it a lot.
you think about it that night when you carefully unpack your boxes. joshua's a nice guy, you think to yourself, because it's not often you come across such a person who's willing to give you an hour of their day to help carry heavy ass boxes for someone they barely know.
you think about it two mornings later when you're walking down the hallway with your groceries for the week only to find joshua about to enter his own apartment, clad in a tight fit t-shirt and gym shorts. his skin glows with layer of sheen sweat, his light brown hair pressing against his forehead in an oddly fitting mess. his breath is slightly labored when you call out his name instinctively, turning to look at you with bright eyes.
"hey, how's it going?" he's polite. joshua is polite, and a gentleman. you almost feel guilty when your eyes dart to the arms when the muscles flex as he brings up a hand to grab one of your grocery bags, insisting that it was his pleasure to help you out. something along the lines of, "i just got back from my work out and i can't help a pretty lady with her bags?"
pretty lady. you hope he can attribute your burning cheeks to the hot sun and not his words, because holy shit does he have your stomach doing tumbles. after all, joshua's just being polite right? right?
you think about his offer again three evenings later. you're just leaving your apartment to go on a walk, and joshua seems to have some people over, five boys knocking on his front door, where there seems to be more boys on the other side. you quickly glance at each other as you slip out of your apartment, hoping to hobble off quickly before things get more awkward, but then there's that door opening and you hear joshua's voice and you falter in your tracks for a moment at the way he calls you name so smoothly.
you turn around to face him as his friends slowly shuffle into his apartment, joshua leaning against the doorframe with a bottle of beer. he holds it up and raises a brow and fuck—if you don't stare at the way the bottle is perched between his perfect, thick fingers—fuck. "you wanna join?"
you want to. fuck, you really want to. so why do the words, the simple phrase of, "yeah sure," fall flat on your tongue? maybe it comes from the embarrassment of lusting over a man you hardly know. from the humiliation of letting your eyes dart towards his arms, his hands, his fingers, joshua's collarbone and the little adam's apple that bobs up when he takes a sip of his beer.
"i, uh, i was just going on a walk right now," you tell him, your voice sounding meek and you want to cringe at the poorly planned response. joshua chuckles, and you aren't sure why.
"you don't wanna come? aw, you're hurting my feelings," he coos.
"no! that's not what i meant," you say quickly, averting your gaze from joshua because the way he's peering down at you right now—god, you don't know if you want to go up to him and fall straight to your knees and suck him off or turn around and run away out of pure humiliation. "i just—you know—walks. go on them every day," you try to explain haphazardly.
"no it's okay, i get it," he replies before looking into his apartment when one of his friends yells out his name, "it's bit rowdy in here anyways, so i don't blame you." there's an awkward sort of silence that settles between you and the air is thick as you debate if you should turn around and leave right about now. "i don't suppose you'd want to stop by after your walk?" he asks hopefully, and you figure this is his way of giving you a second chance.
this time, you look up at him and smile. "i'll think about it."
except this time you actually think about, not just sit and wonder of the possibilities. as you pace down the street, your one hour walk that usually make time fly now seems to feel like the longest sixty minutes of your life. you come down to two possibilities at the end of it:
1. you don't show up and joshua thinks you're an indecisive bitch
2. you do show up, have a good time, and things are left at that
of course, putting it like that only really leaves you with one choice to choose, that being the latter. knowing that your own conscience won't let you live it down if you don't end up choosing the latter, you march up to joshua's apartment with a slowly diminishing confidence. yeah, you're eager to see where this night will take you, but you're also not necessarily confident that you're anxiousness won't betray you.
it's just that joshua is so nice and so kind and he has you thinking so many thoughts that your words always seem to jumble up into an incoherent mess whenever he speaks to you. all you can really ever think about when you see him is—well—all of him, which includes his nice smile, his nice muscles, his nice—okay, shit, you really need to control yourself.
doing what little mind-clearing exercises you can cram into the time it takes you to get up to your floor, you're pretty sure your breath is labored from how hard you're thinking alone. before you have any time to let yourself back out of this, you're rushing up to joshua's door, knocking maybe a little too desperately.
in the next moment, you have time to listen in on the other side, the room being quieter than you remember it being an hour ago. all that can be heard is some soft shuffling that can only be identified as joshua's footsteps, and before you know the door is opening, the one and only standing in front of you.
"there she is," joshua greets with a smile, "low and behold!"
the tips of your ears burn at his welcoming, stepping back a little. "h-hi," you murmur quickly, the responses that you planned in your head earlier seemingly fading away in your mind. "is that offer for a drink still on the table?" you ask hopefully, chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for an answer.
"'course it is," he replies. "i was waiting for you to come to your senses," he continues, stepping to the side so you can slip off your shoes and step in, realizing now that all his friends have left leaving only you two. you follow in after him, your eyes glazing over his apartment. it's got the same layout as yours, as expected, only it's mirrored. it's slightly messy, presumably from the mess his friends left from before, but the set up is neat and you can tell joshua has a good eye for color.
"i like those paintings up on the wall," you comment, pointing at a set of wall art hung above his sofa. joshua looks up at it before smiling softly and nodding, walking to the kitchen as you trail behind him.
"thank you, one of my friends that was here earlier got it for me. he's great at interior design, if you're ever looking for someone," he tells you, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a cool bottle of beer. "here," he says, handing it to you before grabbing a bottle opener and popping off the cap for you. holding it out in front of you, you're able to watch his hands up close—they're big and veiny and fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't press your thighs together slightly.
you aren't sure joshua notices, and if he does, he doesn't make it obvious. "thank you," you murmur softly, letting him step back and put the opener away before he leads you to the living room. you settle down on one end of the couch, and instead of opting to sit on the arm chair, joshua just sits on the opposite end. throwing his hands back so they lean on the arm rest and the back of the couch, his biceps are stretched out and on display thanks to his short sleeve t-shirt.
"so," joshua begins as he grabs his own beer and brings it up to his lips, "how do you like it here?"
you take your own sip of the cool liquid before responding, "it's hardly been a week...but i like it. it's peaceful, and i like the neighborhood."
"yeah, the people are nice," joshua agrees. you're nice, you think. "how was moving in?"
"i'm still honestly unpacking," you chuckle to yourself, feeling more comfortable now that there's casual conversation being initiated. "i have a bunch of clothes at my friend's place that i still need to pick up," you explain, leaning back into the plush cushions.
"you need help bringing them in? i can lend a hand if you need."
your stomach tumbles at his generosity, but you shake your head. "ah, you've already helped me so much, i don't think that's fair."
"oh c'mon," joshua counters, "you can pay me back with something if that'll make you feel better."
you raise a brow. "now how would i do that? you got venmo?" you tease.
"i was thinking of something a little less materialistic," joshua replies with a roll of his eyes, and you think you might just combust on the spot.
you aren't exactly sure what he means by that until you bring your eyes to meet his and that's when you see it. how his eyes darken, how he gulps even though he hasn't taken a sip of his drink, how he shifts in his seat. suddenly, you're dawned with the realization that on your walk, you left out the option for a third possibility, a.k.a. you do show up, have a good time, and then have joshua rail you into the next dimension.
gaining confidence, you cross your legs over each other and turn to face him better, deciding to go along. "huh..." your voice trails off. "i'm not quite sure what you mean by that joshua," and you swear you hear his breath hitch when you say his name.
he regains composure so quickly it's hard to tell you even threw him off guard in the first place. "i'm not really sure actually. you have anything to offer?"
you shrug as you set down your beer at the coffee table by your feet. "i make a mean maple cake, if you're into sweet stuff." joshua perks up at that.
"i do have a sweet tooth," he mumbles to himself, pretending to be in thought as he follows your movements, pushing his bottle to the side. "that's gonna take a while though," he says solemnly, "you're gonna have to get the ingredients...make the cake...bring it to me...sounds like a lot of work for you..." his voice trails off, and then he's tossing you that look again.
joshua figures you're both definitely on the same page by now and there's no point leaving the tension between his go unrelieved for any longer than he has to, and before you know it he's reaching one strong arm over to grab your wrist, pulling you into his hold so he can kiss you fiercely.
his lips are soft, but the way he's pushing against you, sucking, nipping, running his tongue along you is all but gentle. with joshua's arms leaving your hands and instead running up the sides of your waist, pulling you in roughly, you gasp into his mouth, allowing him the chance to slip his tongue against yours, tasting you, feeling you, being one with you.
one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head slightly so he can push his lips against yours harder, his tongue sinking deeper to explore the caverns of your mouth. when he pulls away, you both share heaving breaths of air, mouths connected with a string of saliva before he's leaning back in and capturing you once more.
his other hand on your waist gently nudges you and you're falling back onto the cushions, head hitting one of the pillows as he crawls into the space between your legs. inching up his knee until his thick thigh is pressing up against your pounding core, easing the tension that he's been so carefully building up.
joshua noticed it. the way your eyes lingered on his arms, his fingers—noticed the sparkle in your eyes followed by the immediate embarrassment of your own thoughts. he's not sure if you're just easy to read or if he's just good at reading you but whatever it is, you're an open book to him and fuck it's so cute it has him going crazy.
you whine against his lips, rocking into him to the best of you abilities while you're pinned beneath him. there isn't much space to move around in the little corner of this couch, but you hardly pay mind to the inconvenience when joshua peels his lips and thigh away from you. "ha—no," you gasp out, hips chasing the relief the hard muscle provided. joshua chuckles, shaking his head as you pout.
"relax baby," he coos, and the pet name has you shivering under his touch as he inches his body down the length of the couch until his upper body rests between your thighs, face dangerously close to your gaping cunt. "be patient, okay?" he orders, and you nod your head quickly in agreement. joshua traces his fingers from your knees achingly slow up to the hem of your denim shorts, slipping under the cloth only slightly, leaving you nearly begging for more.
"josh—shua—fuck, more, please?" you choke out, voice broken from pure desperation. joshua clicks his tongue at you, flashing a warning look which shuts your lips real tight as he reaches up to unbutton the shorts. you quickly reach down, helping him out, but he swats your hands away.
"can you keep your hands up for me sweetheart?" he asks so fucking sweetly you almost forget about the mischievous glint that flashes in his eyes.
"uh-huh," you mumble, slowly lifting your hands above your head, gripping onto the armrest of the couch to brace yourself. in the meantime, joshua unzips and yanks your shorts off, tossing them to the side so they fall somewhere in the room. staring down at your now exposed and soiled panties, you hear joshua suck in a breath.
"all this for me sweetheart?" he murmurs, bring two fingers up to lightly pinch your clit, causing you to jerk against his hold.
"all for you," you affirm nearly immediately, squirming when he takes one finger and tuns it down the midline of the fabric. joshua's eyes are gaping down at your core, nearly in the shape of hearts as his mind races with the idea of how you're already so undone, so desperate, so far gone for him. slowly but surely, he hooks one finger on each side of the waist band, peeling your panties off and exposing your dripping folds.
joshua nearly groans at the site of you clenching around nothing, saying, "fuck baby, you're gonna soak my couch."
"s-sorry," you stutter out, averting your gaze so you don't have the chance to look at the mess you've made.
"don't apologize...it's hot as hell." he pauses, then looks up at you. "you mind if i get a taste?"
"god, fuck yes—i mean no—wait," you babble, "i mean—shit—i don't mind, not at all."
joshua's heart swells at your response, waisting no time dipping his head between your thighs and pressing his tongue flat against your folds. you cry out at the warmth and friction, instinctively shooting one hand down to grab at his hair. within seconds, he's pulling his head back and giving you a stern look. "what'd i say sweetheart?"
"hands, sorry." you quickly pull your fingers back and return them to their hold on the couch.
"there you go sweetheart," joshua mumbles before diving back in, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs to hold you in your place. you can nearly feel his muscles bulge against your leg and you twitch against his mouth at the thought. meanwhile, joshua runs his tongue up and down, going and back and forth between hardening at and circling it around your hole before moving up and wrapping his lips around your clit and flicking his tongue over it.
the erratic, unpredictable movements have your back arching off the couch within minutes, moaning out words like, "feels so good joshua," along with quite curses as you attempt to keep your voice down. it hardly takes a few minutes before you're writhing under him, joshua pulling back with his lips and chin coated in a sticky wetness with a grin.
"you look so pretty baby," he compliments, using one hand to continue to rub between your folds and circle around your clit, never halting the shoots of pleasure through your spine. his eyes are flickering between yours and core, and then holy shit, his lips contort for a moment and then he's spitting on your already soaked pussy and the act is so demeaning and dirty and hot that you hardly comprehend the next words that come out of joshua's mouth. "so do you wanna cum now, or on my cock?" he offers, and you figure there's a right answer and a wrong one, but you don't have the brain capacity right now to think about which is which.
pouting, you respond, "c-can't i have both?"
that must be the right answer, because it has joshua beaming at you, smiling against your pussy as he slips two fingers into you and presses his mouth on your clit. jerking your hips up, joshua follows the swivel of your lower half, matching the thrusts and flicks of his wrist to your own movements so his fingers are hitting deeper and deeper every time. you think you're close, but when he's curling his digits inside of you and sucking hard on your nub you know it's coming.
you don't have time to warn joshua about your impending orgasm but the way your walls hug his fingers so fucking tight is warning enough, and he speeds up both his fingers and the flicking of his tongue to the point where you're on the brink of tears as he finger fucks you through your high. humming in appreciation at the way you call out his name as you do, he releases your clit with a filthy 'pop' sound, fingers taking a moment to gently slip out of you as you come down from your high.
"you did so good angel," joshua praises, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, smearing your skin in the mixture of your own cum and his saliva. your breaths are far too erratic for you to respond, but the way you look up at him with heavy eyelids through thick, glossy lashes tells joshua all he needs to know. unraveling his arms around you, he bring himself up and guides your legs to wrap around his bare torso—shit, wait, when did he take his shirt off.
gaping at this man who could quite literally be god, you can't even comprehend what's going on until you're being carried into a whole new room, joshua throwing you onto his bed, the messy covers bunching up around you. he stands at the edge, unbuckling his belt at a painfully slow rate. quickly scrambling up from your laying back position, you crawl to the spot in front of him and help unbutton his jeans. "already wanting more, huh?" he teases, but doesn't push you away, rather putting his hands to his side to watch you do the work yourself. you don't respond, taking this chance to grab both his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one go.
joshua's cock springs out, thick and beaming with a bead of precum that dribbles off the tip, lightly hitting your face in the process. your mind is foggy and you look up at him with dreamy eyes as you absentmindedly open your mouth and close your lips around his bulbous tip, lapping at the precum. joshua doesn't hesitate to grab at your hair and pull you off of him, and for a moment you're scared you've done something wrong, getting pulled out of your haze.
but then you catch the way his voice drops an octave when he says, "slow down," and your worries are put at ease. "we can do that another time. wanna feel your cunt." another time. those words ring in your head. there's going to be another time. you ponder on that thought for a moment and then you recall the next of what he says and you look up at him with these doe eyes that joshua finds so fucking adorable, he'd be surprised if you don't see his dick twitching.
crawling onto the mattress, your limbs intertwine in a hot mess so that one of your legs is hooked around his torso while the other rests between his knees under him. it's a slightly awkward position, but the thought hardly crosses either of your minds once his fat tip his sliding between your drooling folds teasingly, before you're begging, "c'mon joshie, stick it in, please—need it now."
now joshua isn't one to usually give in—he's good at maintaining his patience. yet, the way you mumble out his nickname as if there isn't a single thought in your pretty head has his mind going numb, losing all semblance of self control until he can't help but sink his full length into you.
and joshua knows he's big, and looking down at how you nearly shake beneath him, it's confirmed that this is a lot for you. he almost feels bad at the way tears stream down your cheek, considering pulling out and pressing kisses along your face until you're ready to try again but then you're saying his name like that—"joshie, joshie, joshie"—and he just knows that neither of you would be satisfied until he's balls deep inside of you.
"takin'—god, fuck—takin' me like a pro, huh sweetheart?" joshua finally finds it in him to grunt out with out his voice wavering from the way you hug him so well.
"yeah-huh," you nod along, holding up your hand in a grabbing motion, joshua not hesitating to hold your hand in his so you can squeeze it tight while you work through the initial stretch. "you're so big, joshie."
"yeah," he breaths out a laugh. "you like it?" he groans, slipping out around halfway, giving you a chance to breathe, before he's shallowly thrusting back into you. "like me stretching out this pretty fucking pussy?" you nod dumbly, and your jaw gyrates as you try to form a response but no words come out, strangled syllables morphing into pornographic moans as joshua begins to drag his cock out further each time, plunging it deeper and deeper as he goes on.
"oh my god," you're finally able to babble, tits bouncing back and forth as joshua begins jamming his hips into yours with increasing force. the sounds of your wet pussy colliding with his cock bounce off the walls and if it isn't the filthiest thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is.
joshua latches one arm to your hip, the other continuing to hold yours as he pins it by your neck and shifting his body over you so his head hovers above yours. this new angle his his cock ramming hard down onto a spot that has you biting down onto your lips and crying out, "fuck, joshie!"
"you're squeezing me so tight," joshua moans as you rake one hand down his back. "suckin' me in, god i can't get enough, sweetheart," he grunts out, dropping his head down to bury it in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you. your body feels as if it's on fire in the best way possible, and with the way joshua is pressing open mouthed kisses onto your sticky skin has your hips lifting to meet his sharp strokes.
you feel as if things can't get any better and then you feel his teeth bite down into your flesh and your eyes roll to the fucking back of your head as the pain quickly shoots to pleasure when he sucks on the spot, the patch of skin throbbing—pulsing. "'m so close, joshie," you moan as he pullings away, looking down at your fucked out face. your eyes are droopy and shutting tight every time he fucks into you, mouth slightly agape and never fully closing.
he isn't sure what urges him to do it but then he's shoving three fingers into your mouth and joshua thinks that this might just be true love at the way you don't even hesitate a second to circle your lips against them and run your tongue against them. drool dribbles down your lips as you suck on his fingers and joshua's mind is consumed with the thought of your mouth doing that to his dick and then you moan around his fingers at the way he twitches inside of you and—fuck—he's getting close too, but he just can't allow himself to cum until you have.
slipping his fingers out, he uses the same, slick hand to toy at your clit as you clench around him tighter. "you said you're close?" he groans. "fuckin' cum then, cum around my cock how you wanted to, sweetheart."
it's the way he's gazing down at you endearingly. it's his fat cock pushing itself deeper inside of you, forcing you and your gummy walls to make room for me. it's the filthy words that spill from his lips, laced with his sweet words of praise. it's all of it that comes crashing down on you, the waves of pleasure hitting you over and over and over again until you're reduced to nothing but a thrashing, crying, whining mess with the words, "joshie, fuck," falling from your lips.
you're so lost in pleasure of your second orgasm of the day that you hardly notice it when joshua slips out of you himself, fervently jerking himself off until he moans out your name and there's thick white ropes of cum painting your stomach and clit 'til he's practically milked himself dry.
all the echos through the room now is the sound of your hiccups and joshua's gasps for air until he's finally falling on top of you, head resting on your chest.
"you are so not a gentleman," you gasp out between breaths as he slowly lifts himself off of you, rolling to your side once you unwind your leg from around his hips. he furrows his eyebrows at you with a frown.
"what do you mean?" he whines. "that's literally like my trademark."
"well change it," you grumble, running your fingers over the mark on your neck from where joshua bit you.
"i'm sorry," he murmurs, turning over to you to look at the bruise against your skin. "did i hurt you?" he asks, eyes wide with worry. you want to kick your feet at the way his concern has butterflies coursing through your veins as if this man didn't just rearrange your guts.
you push his face away when he leans down to pepper your neck with kisses, shuffling back onto you. you aren't sure how much longer your poor heart can handle this. "it's too late to be a gentleman now..."
"is it though?" joshua asks with a smirk, looking down at you.
"dunno...guess you just have to prove to me that you're worth the title."
"does this mean i get more chances?" joshua grins.
you roll your eyes. "maybe...it depends on what you have planned."
"well," joshua drawls out. "i'm thinking a nice date...then maybe you, me, my bed and—"
i guess you can tell where it goes from here.
a/n. half the time i think i dont know how to end fics without some stupid dialouge bc wtf.... anyways if u enjoyed pls like and reblog!
PAIRING ▸ park sunghoon x fem!reader x sim jaeyun (ft. park jongseong)
GENRES ▸ fluff, angst, psychological, horror, thriller
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, murder, descriptions of gore, unrequited love, found family, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, mc is an unreliable narrator
SUMMARY ▸ if you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting park sunghoon.
WORD COUNT ▸ 14,064 words
PLAYLIST ▸ back to black by amy winehouse • the french library by franz gordon • perfectly splendid by the newton brothers
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a rewrite of one of my first horror fics that i’ve written :') it badly needed reworking and i completely changed the ending. i hope you guys enjoy my spooky szn contribution ♡
THE TRUTH WAS, YOUR LIFE BEGAN TO FALL APART EVEN BEFORE YOU MET SIM JAEYUN.
You realized this as you woke up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a holding cell; when the guards dragged your uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when you were face-to-face with Detective Lee Heeseung and handcuffed to a cold, metal table as he read your Miranda Rights. The handcuffs dug into the flesh of your wrists, but you only fought against them once and gave up as soon as you realized they wouldn’t give in. You just wanted to thumb away the crusted blood staining your hands and pick out the flakes under your nails.
The room was foreign to you. It was something you’d seen in movies and read in books, but you never fathomed the idea of being in an interrogation room yourself. There was a two-way glass that you aimlessly stared at, wondering who was listening in on the other end.
You couldn’t figure out just how you ended up in this situation. Everything was smooth in your memory up until your supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of your recollection. You hardly remembered what happened on the way to the police station or when you were getting booked in. You dug your palms into your temples and then pressed against the soft flesh under your eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in your head. As much as you begged than to click and start spinning, they remained stuck and rusted in place.
But you couldn’t ask the brooding man standing over you. You couldn’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes. After all, he knew you were a murderer.
“There’s no use in lying to me, Y/N,” Detective Lee said gruffly with a gaze like steel, “the prints match.”
You drummed your fingers against the table—a habit that was rooted in your anxiety. Your fingers were stained and pruned like roses, and as hard as you tried to paint the table red, it only flaked off. You were sure your heartbeat was faster than the tapping of your fingers, your mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast.
Your stomach twisted. If Jaeyun was going to prison, too, then you could no longer protect him.
There was a limit to how much he could take; you knew that being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. You knew you needed to get to him immediately because Jaeyun was the guy who felt too little and too much at the same time—the guy who looked for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructed when he felt the world closing in on him.
After all, Jaeyun was a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends.
You worked up the courage to look Detective Lee in the eye, which made him stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up.
“Where’s Jaeyun?” you asked.
Detective Lee’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Cutting into his pale cheeks. You decided that couldn’t be a good reaction.
You continued, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”
“If you cooperate with us, then you can see Jaeyun again,” the detective answered in a clipped tone. “I can sit here all day and wait.”
Cooperate. You hated that word.
You knew Detective Lee was just trying to sugarcoat your betrayal. You knew he was looking down on you, ready to push you to your limit.
But there was nothing you could do in this room. There was no way for you to escape or talk your way out of it to see Jaeyun. You knew quite well that staying silent would only prevent you from making sure your boyfriend was okay.
You had no other choice but to work with Detective Lee.
“Will you at least make sure he’s not hurt?” you inquired, to which Detective Lee agreed with a nod.
“I’ll ask again: Will you cooperate?”
You stayed silent. You despised your old habit of shutting down like this, but you couldn’t help it.
Detective Lee sighed and sat in the chair across from you so that you both were eye-level with each other. “Listen, Y/N, you’re young. This murder investigation—this is serious stuff, okay? We just need to know the full story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest. Can we start from last night?”
Deep down, you understood. But it’s all too fresh—too soon. The grief had yet to settle. The recollections of blood and lifeless eyes poisoned your head; it was all you could see when you closed your eyes.
You sounded hollow when you said, “It didn’t… start from last night.”
Detective Lee acknowledged this and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”
If you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting Park Sunghoon.
Your first meeting was at the age of fourteen. Moving schools was an unexpected shift in your life, and you didn't expect to find many friends at your new school. Starting new in the beginning of the year was one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups was another.
People flocked to comfort, and you were sure that no one would want to step out of their comfort zone to bring a stranger into their friend group.
And then Sunghoon swooped in, like an angel sent from the heavens.
Initially, he was awkward. You were both fourteen-years-old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and awkward intervals of growth stunts. Sunghoon was soft-spoken and didn’t have many friends when he approached and befriended you.
It started when you both found out you shared a love for novels. You spent hours talking about your favorite books, and Sunghoon shared his dream of wanting to craft the perfect story. Oftentimes, Sunghoon would share some of his writing with you, and then his eyes would sparkle upon hearing your feedback.
You two were classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. You got to know Sunghoon slowly—the same gradual feeling of starting to care for someone. You knew his boundaries, though, because you were aware that you could never be the closest to Sunghoon. He and Park Jongseong were attached at the hip, and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you felt like a third wheel in the beginning.
But there was some comfort in the security of your friendship.
“It’s you and me,” Sunghoon would tell you, “the two of us against the world.”
You knew you should have been grateful to have made friends in the first place, but you didn’t exactly know if you belonged with them. As comfortable as you felt, there was always a whisper in the back of your head, telling you that you would never be their number one.
You would never be anyone’s number one.
“I don’t understand girls,” Jongseong said one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of you were hanging out in Sunghoon’s room. You were flipping through some comic book that Sunghoon had laying around, and you shifted uncomfortably upon hearing the question.
“You don’t have to.” Sunghoon’s eyes flitted from you, and then back to his phone. He swiped through some apps, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”
Jongseong nudged you. “You have anything to say about that, Y/N?”
To be honest, you didn’t understand yourself much either. You were just starting to go through puberty, and it wasn’t ideal for a teenager as young as you to only have guy friends. You couldn’t relate to any of the girls your age, nor could you ask them if they were going through the same changes you were.
You were acquainted with several girls, of course, but you never got close enough to ask what feelings and experiences they had. You wanted to know if they were becoming as conscious of themselves and others like you were, but you kept those questions bottled up since you only had Sunghoon and Jongseong.
“Nope,” you replied. “I couldn’t tell you.”
You supposed Jongseong was having girl problems again, and it all clicked because lately, he had been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They were cute together and clearly into each other, but you could pick up on the issue: Jongseong was on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he had been on the down-low about it around Sunghoon, which had to have been breaking some sort of best friend code.
Jongseong asked, “You like anyone, Hoon?”
Hoon, your brain echoed, and you imagined yourself using the name as casually as Jongseong did. It sounded awkward coming from you, though. Friends gave each other nicknames, right? What if you gave Sunghoon a nickname? How would he react?
Sunghoon flushed behind his phone screen. You could tell he wanted it to go undetected, but you caught a glimpse of his flustered expression before he was able to compose himself.
“Oh, not really,” he replied with an air of indifference. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t really been looking.”
“How about you, Y/N?”
You faltered for a moment before you realized you had been addressed. It was a normal question; you should have expected it, but it hit you like a tornado and your mind was swirling. Dating had crossed your mind a few times, sure, you had never prepared an answer because you thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there’s a few cute guys in class.” But that wasn’t the case this time, and you were wondering why there wasn’t any clarity in your head.
Come on, Y/N, you urged yourself, as if you were complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in your brain. Just say something—anything.
Your mind was blanking, though, and you were scared. You couldn’t quite grasp why your stomach felt like a never-ending pit, but it only worsened when you couldn’t spit some guy’s name out. You wanted to open up your skull, thoroughly examine your head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out who you couldn’t just list some attractive guy in class; on top of that, you wondered why you couldn’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there was no one you were interested in.
You were struck with a painful realization that there was only one person you could think of.
Sunghoon.
No, no, no, your brain and your heart screamed at each other. Get ahold of yourself.
You quickly decided that it was just a passing feeling that you needed to suppress until it went away. It was just stupid teenage hormones and puberty making you feel this way and starving you of affection that you didn’t actually need in the first place. If you didn’t get a hold over yourself, you were going to crumble and ruin the good things you had going.
You internally convinced yourself that everything was fine. There were plenty of teenagers your age who had moments of weakness like this with their guy friends. You just needed to branch out more, that was all.
Sheepishly, you replied before the boys could chew you out, “There’s no one I’m interested in right now.”
You weren’t a very good liar, but as long as Sunghoon and Jongseong were sold, you were content with how things were.
Your group expanded when you turned fifteen, and you and Sunghoon grew closer—maybe even closer than Sunghoon and Jongseong were.
You were laying down in your bed one night, breaking into sobs when you realized that you needed more than one hand to count the number of friends you had now. Your shell was broken and your world was bigger. You normally lived like your uphills were mountains and your downhills were cliffs, but, lately, the mountains were getting easier to climb and the downhills weren’t that big of a drop. You didn’t need to stop and catch your breath or worry about hurting yourself on the way down.
You never felt lonely anymore. If Sunghoon or Jongseong weren’t free, you would call Nishimura Riki to catch grasshoppers in the creek with you, or you’d go play video games with Yang Jungwon. Kim Sunoo called you nearly every night to bother you, but you didn’t mind. You liked them; they made you feel important, like you were wanted.
“Come on,” Sunghoon teased Jungwon one day as he was blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”
“It’s embarrassing!” Jungwon complained, and you giggled over how a flush of red started creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “I’m not a smooth-talker like you are, Hoon.”
Sunghoon snorted. “I’m not a smooth-talker.”
“He’s practically, like, bulletproof,” Jongseong chimed in. “We can’t tease him about anyone. He just brushes it off.”
“I’m not bulletproof,” Sunghoon argued, but anyone could see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”
You thought you had finally squashed the weird, gooey feeling that arose in your chest every now and then whenever Sunghoon came close. It was primarily due to the fact that Sunghoon was a respectful individual who didn’t try to weasel his way into your personal bubble as he pleased. That was probably for the best because you were sure your brain would go haywire if Sunghoon was too close for comfort.
And then there was Sim Jaeyun.
Jaeyun entered your circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it was no shocker that he was accepted by the group instantly. He possessed some odd charm that drew people to him, and you couldn’t seem to figure just how that worked. You were almost jealous of him, honestly, with how much of a social butterfly he was.
Out of all of them, Jaeyun seemed to take a particular interest in you. It drove you crazy, though, and you couldn’t figure out how to get the guy to stop teasing and messing around with you. The others couldn’t figure it out either; you just weren’t as bright and bubbly as Jaeyun was, so it was odd that he kept nagging the one person whose wavelength wasn’t on par with his.
Sometimes it was cute—endearing even—but sometimes it was just flat-out irritating.
“Hey, Y/N.” Jake grinned, and his voice was all light and airy as he approached you. “What’re you doing for the summer break?”
“Probably sleeping in, hanging out with the others, and some more sleeping,” you replied, hardly sparing him a single glance.
You were too focused on clearing out your locker of all the books and papers you had tossed in during the year. Gotta keep this, gotta throw this away, gotta return this one, you rattled off in your head, mentally preserving a reminder of your various items. But Jaeyun knew how to push your buttons and grab your attention. He never took your deflection without retaliating back. That was one of the many reasons why you found it so difficult to be around him.
“And hanging out with Sunghoon, huh? Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it’s not there?”
You closed your locker with a swift swipe of your hand, revealing Jaeyun’s smug expression. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your sockets as you stared him down. Somehow, you knew exactly what he was hinting at, but you refused to spell it out for him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, but Jaeyun was already walking away from you. He was turned away, but you could visualize that stupid smirk of his like it was carved into your memory.
Jaeyun was smart. Too smart.
Your summer was filled with laughter, beach trips, and shy glances at Sunghoon. He drove you around places and you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, toes curled in your shoes because you were so overjoyed. The car was always loud with music and laughter, and whenever it was silent, it was because everyone else was sleeping on each other after a long day of being outside.
You still masqueraded around, playing the role of Sunghoon’s best friend who definitely had zero romantic feelings toward him. It was quite hard when you had to pretend like your heart didn’t flutter whenever Sunghoon’s fingers brushed against yours.
“Sunghoon,” Jaeyun would complain, rousing laughter from everyone at how impatient he was, “are we there yet?”
“You’re so annoying,” Sunghoon retorted, clearly as a joke. You couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, but it quickly died on your lips once you caught a glimpse of Jaeyun winking at you in the side mirror.
Jaeyun had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he said, “But you still love me, Hoon.”
Oh.
He was trying to make you jealous.
You fought down the urge to laugh at him. You might have been harboring a small crush, but you were never the jealous type, especially not over petty things like this. There was one little thing, however, that you couldn’t seem to shake.
For some reason, the anticipation to call Sunghoon by a nickname made you anxious. You never tested it on your tongue; it just floated around in your head. However, when you addressed him as Hoon one day, your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon responded with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun.
You grew closer to Jongseong, too. You didn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Sunghoon anymore; you felt like you were all at the same level of closeness. You and Jongseong hung out sometimes without Sunghoon, and despite a few awkward pauses in your interactions, you two warmed up quickly and you learned how to joke around with him easily.
Jongseong wasn’t all stiff and dry like you were initially afraid of; rather, he was surprisingly fun, and every time you learned something new about him, like how he adored cats but was allergic to them, you were even more amazed.
It wasn’t just Jongseong, though. You and Sunghoon grew far closer than ever before, whether that was for the better or worse.
Sunghoon only lived a street away, so it was convenient to hang out, and when you didn’t hang out with him, you two called each other. You could see him unravel in front of your eyes; he became visibly more comfortable when it was just the two of you—smiling, laughing, and bursting into laughter with tears of unrestrained happiness.
It wasn’t just the jubilant memories that tugged you two closer, though. It was also the despair.
In the first place, it was an accident that you even happened to break down in front of Sunghoon.
You two were in his room when it happened, and things were as they always had been before you sensed the calm before the storm. You joked around as usual and passed the time by playing video games. Sunghoon was perched on his usual spot in the corner of the bed. You looked over at him and realized how close you two had become as friends.
Friends. Just friends.
It was right at that moment when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to just be Sunghoon’s best friend. You wanted to be the reason why he smiled, the one to make him blush, and the one he could share his pain and happiness with.
But your feelings were the scariest thing you’ve ever had to face, and you felt ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between you and Sunghoon.
You couldn’t dare bring yourself to confess. You were almost positive that Sunghoon didn’t feel the same way, and you would be risking a fall-out in your current relationship if you admitted anything. What if Sunghoon ended up hating you? What if you lost him and all of your other friends? What if you weren’t the closest person to him anymore?
That was why you felt like Sunghoon was in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.
This was your own fault. You were the one who fell for your best friend. You were the one who did this to yourself. You broke your own heart.
You couldn’t help it when you started falling apart in front of him. It started with a broken cough that was supposed to cover up a sniffle. You were thankful for the loud battle sounds in the game that drowned out your quiet sobbing. But the video game didn’t stop Sunghoon from noticing your shaking hands gripping the controller.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.”
Your voice is so shaky, so broken. Sunghoon knew you were crying before he could see or hear it.
He paused the game and put the controller down, but your eyes were still trained on the screen, hands shaking as you clutched the controller until you were white-knuckled. Sunghoon was on edge—panicked. Although, it was a different kind of panic from all the times you would be stressing over an assignment and Sunghoon would offer some lame piece of advice in return.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” His tone was frantic now as he searched your face for an answer.
You smiled, although faint melancholy was tucked away in the curl of your lip. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Now, I know that’s not true.”
Your smile broke. It was so unfortunate that Park Sunghoon had to have a heart so big.
You could almost hear Jaeyun in the back of your head: Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it isn’t there?
You started crying, and it wasn’t something soft with a gradual crescendo. It was loud and all at once, like a wounded animal. Your hands shook more, and you finally dropped your controller, burying your fingers into your roots, as if tugging your hair hard enough would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the ache in your chest.
Sunghoon was quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and it only made you feel ashamed. You stiffened up and shrunk back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how you tensed up at his touch. You could hear your own heartbeat, but you were pretty sure you were hyperventilating at a faster pace than the pounding in your chest. The world under you moved, bounced, so you decided to lean into Sunghoon.
The logical half of your brain informed you in a calm, clipped manner that you were having a panic attack. The other half meanwhile was screaming and shutting itself down.
Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste, you tried telling yourself, but your senses overwhelmed you completely. Your tears were blurring your vision, you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire.
“Y/N, talk to me,” came the softest voice that eased the painful ringing in your ears.
“I can’t,” you stuttered out. “Not right now.”
You wish you hadn’t let it get to this point. You were completely humiliating yourself in front of Sunghoon right now. This was the one thing you couldn’t let him find out about.
Your heavy gasps grew more labored. You then curled into yourself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at your hair. And, shit, you couldn’t breathe.
“I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated again and again, like a broken record. The desperation in your voice was so ugly.
There was something fierce in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was ready to protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you, but there was also softness in his voice. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want you to suffer alone, Y/N.”
With a small smile, he added, “It’s just you and me, right? The two of us against the world.”
That only made you cry even more. You just replayed Sunghoon’s words in your head, like it was your favorite song.
“Alright.” You breathed in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “It’s really stupid.”
“If it makes you cry this hard, it can’t be stupid.”
You bit your lip, embarrassed. “I think I like someone—someone I can’t have.”
Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment, and it rattled your brain. He probably was wondering this underwhelming confession warranted a breakdown from you, and you couldn’t blame him. However, it was the only way you could avoid lying to your best friend without giving him the whole truth.
For a split second, you wondered if Sunghoon simply just didn’t hear you. But you didn’t want to repeat yourself; you didn’t like repeating yourself.
To your surprise, Sunghoon just smiled. “Do I know them?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were stringing together in your head to form a coherent sentence.
“Uh, well, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” Sunghoon continued. He flushed and flicked his thumb under his nose—an awkward mannerism of his that you grew to love over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. There’s someone I like, too. Someone I can’t have.”
His words bounced in your skull. Settled. Bounced again.
“Really?” you spluttered out, and it took you a moment to recuperate from the heavy sadness that was filling your chest. You brought yourself to ask, “I mean, you’re so popular, so why don’t you just ask them out?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? Are they dating someone else?”
There was a sad smile on Sunghoon’s lips when he answered, “No, Jongseong likes her, too.”
At the age of sixteen, you realized that you couldn’t get over Sunghoon, but you could suppress your heartbreak and lingering feelings.
It physically hurt to think about how deeply ingrained your concept of friendship was with him, and the possibility that Park Sunghoon would never think of you as more than a friend. You two had shared too many experiences—worn each other’s shoes and walked miles—to ever become more than what you were.
Nothing would ever change.
You were hanging out by a creek near Jongseong’s house. It was just the two of you—no Jaeyun to poke fun at you, and no Sunghoon to distract you. It was just the two of you, and it was somehow so easy to be with Jongseong like this. You could laugh with your stomach and smile with your eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down.
“It’s getting annoying, isn’t it?” Jongseong asked under his breath at one point. When you shot him a puzzled look, he clarified, “Sunghoon.”
You picked up on Jongseong’s annoyance toward Sunghoon over the past few weeks, but his words confirmed your suspicions now. You wondered if it was geared toward the girl they both liked—whoever she was.
You never thought to ask, mainly because you didn’t want to know. Either way, if Sunghoon wanted to share, he would’ve done so already.
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but you genuinely didn’t know what to say.
It had always been you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. You never thought about them turning on each other. The very idea made you feel sick to your stomach.
Over the past week, you had seen Sunghoon’s indifference toward Jongseong, but you were too afraid to ask about it. Your friend group was slow to pick up on it, but you noticed the way Sunghoon would purposely avoid conversing with Jongseong, or the way Jongseong would walk quickly past him if they crossed paths. It was odd, though, because everyone knew that Sunghoon and Jongseong were the best of friends—inseparable. How could you hold onto someone for so long and just let go of them like that?
You recalled that Jongseong and Jungwon went over to talk to Sunghoon about his moody behavior, but Jongseong never told you whether the talk went well or not. You figured it just never happened because Jungwon called in sick the very next day.
You prayed that he would hurry up and get over his cold. He had been out sick all week, which checked out since everyone was getting sick around this time of the year. Jungwon would know how to get Sunghoon and Jongseong to reconcile. He was always the friend that helped everyone patch things up.
“You guys are best friends,” was all you could say. “You’ll make up in a few days, right?”
Jongseong clicked his tongue loud enough to make your skin crawl.
But you didn’t want to drop it this time, you asked, “Seriously, what happened between you guys?”
For a moment, you wondered if you should’ve brought up what Sunghoon confessed to you—about him and Jongseong liking the same girl. But this couldn’t have been about that; Sunghoon would never let a girl get between his friendships.
“Sunghoon’s hiding something dark,” Jongseong blurted out. “I don’t think I can get him out of this one.”
“Something dark? What is it?”
“I don’t really know—”
“Jongseong,” you cut in. “If you know something, then just say it. He’s my best friend, too.”
Jongseong shifted uncomfortably, restless. He was silent for a long period of time, so you just waited for him to collect his thoughts. Uneasiness bursted from the tips of your fingers and crawled under your skin. You felt the heat of the sun against your face, so you looked up and covered your eyes with a hand, blinking back red.
“If Sunghoon did something unforgivable,” he started in a murmur, “would you forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” was all you could say.
“Yeah,” Jongseong replied, his terse words nearly making you flinch. “I don’t know, either.”
The sun grew hotter against your face, and all you could see was blood red behind your eyes.
You didn’t know how exactly it started, but you slowly started to find solace in Jaeyun.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care for him a little more than the people around you. You were starting to get swayed by him—the things he said, the way he looked at you—and it scared you a little.
But Jaeyun felt safe. He felt like home.
You two called at night, sometimes. You weren’t normally one to be vulnerable in front of others, but you shed some tears in front of Jaeyun a couple of times.
The only other person you had cried in front of was Sunghoon.
“It’s kinda sad,” Jaeyun told you one day. You two were spending the afternoon studying together at his place, and you were feeling self-conscious because you were starting to regret not dressing a little cuter. “I’ve known you for a year, but we’ve only gotten close now.”
“I don’t think either of us cared about deepening our friendship back then.”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You think I didn’t want to be closer? How do you think I picked up on you liking Sunghoon?”
“Because I was obvious about it?”
“No, idiot, because I like you.”
You blinked a few times until you fully processed his words. I like you, your brain repeated, and then you reprocessed the information.
No, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only were you liked, but he thought you were stupid, as well.
You became painfully aware of your knees touching Jaeyun’s, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of him liking you romantically. You had never been in this position. Since your crush on Sunghoon had been one-sided for the past few years, you never expected to be on the receiving end.
“You…” you trailed off, floundering to find something to say—something that wouldn’t make you sound stupid or mean. You settled with, “You, too?”
His eyes beamed with hope. “For a year now.”
Your world was so small before. It was just you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong.
Before you could even wonder if there was space in your heart for Jaeyun, you realized that you had already let him burrow his way in there.
“Can I kiss you?” Jaeyun asked.
You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, and every once of nervousness slipped away. You always thought you could attain this level of closeness with Sunghoon, but maybe your relationship with him was just that fragile—where you could just grab the string binding you two together and snip it completely.
But it was different with Jaeyun.
“Yeah,” you answered, smiling, “you can.”
And then, with Jaeyun’s breath fanning your lips, you felt Sunghoon completely dissolve from the impounding thoughts racking your brain. Right now, it was Jaeyun and only Jaeyun.
You leaned in first, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against Jaeyun’s soft ones. It was weird, kissing for the first time, but he leaned into it instantly so that your movements were less awkward and more guided.
A fire blazed inside of you, burning hotter than imaginable. You didn’t expect Jaeyun to drive you this crazy—to crave more, to want more. You drew back before you slid your hand into his hair, although you were tempted to go further when his pillowy lips peppered soft kisses along your jawline.
But you didn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. You settled for leaving another chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, and you were delighted when you saw how pleased Jaeyun was. He was practically glowing.
From then on, you and Jaeyun had a relationship that extended past something platonic, but it wasn’t like you two were official. Naturally, you ended up confiding in him over everything.
While Sunghoon still held a place in your heart as your first love, you grew to care for Jaeyun, who kindled a gentler fire in you. Sunghoon, on the other hand, left you burned and scarred.
You didn’t want to rush into a relationship, mainly because you didn’t want Jaeyun to think he was a rebound, and he respected that. So he waited for you to figure out your feelings and let your heart choose who was right for you.
You weren’t stupid, though; you knew that chasing after Sunghoon was a hopeless cause.
You and Jaeyun drifted about in a limbo-state of your relationship. You two went on a couple of dates, got to know each other at a deeper level, and spent a lot of time together. He became the person you thought about when you were falling asleep and when you woke up in the morning.
You two got along surprisingly well, and you wondered why you ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Sure, Jaeyun still got on your nerves at times, but you just found it funny after the wave of annoyance passed.
Your friends started to talk about how close you two were and frequently brought up the idea of you two dating. Of course, you always denied it, enjoying the privacy you and Jaeyun had.
But as your relationship blossomed into something more serious, you decided that you didn’t want things to stay casual any longer. So, you asked him out, and Jaeyun, being the lovesick puppy he was, accepted without a second thought.
You thought about how much had changed in your life. Sunghoon stopped hanging out with you completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, they all collectively gave up. You and Jongseong still kept an eye on him, using roundabout ways to find out how he was doing; it was the most you two could do given how little opportunity you had to talk to him.
You didn’t share many classes with Jongseong anymore, but you two were still close, even after your “two of us against the world” friendship with Sunghoon had gone to shit.
Jongseong was kind, though, and despite how he was rough around the edges, he was gentle enough.
But he knew that Sunghoon was hiding something dark, and that alone made you somewhat nervous around him.
You felt unsettled the entire day, but when your group chat started flooding with texts about Jungwon in the middle of the night, you felt an icy chill travel down your spine.
It was all over the news. The whole story about him being down with the flu was just a cover-up while authorities were looking for him.
You felt nauseous.
HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR WOODS. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.
The 16-year-old boy was found dead at the scene. The parents of the deceased student have identified him as Yang Jungwon. As of now, there are no leads, but authorities have ruled the case as a homicide.
Police have asked anyone with information to contact their local police department.
You read the headline again. Over and over again until your vision was blurry and the words were convoluted. Your fingers were raw and bitten down to the nail bed by the time you were able to put your phone down so that you could just cry into your hands.
By the time you got around to reading the details, grimacing at the descriptions of mutilation done to Jungwon’s body and how his body had been decomposing for weeks now, you had to run to your toilet and dry heave everything out.
You weren’t the closest to Jungwon or anything, but imagining such a bright person meet such a horrific end wasn’t easy to process. For hours, you ignored all of the calls and texts and attempts to comfort from your parents. You stared straight at your wall—so terrified that your chest hurt and your breathing was ragged.
Later that night, when the world was quiet and dreaming, you received a text from Sunghoon.
sunghoon: Hey sunghoon: I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? sunghoon: I haven’t been a good friend lately, I’m sorry sunghoon: It’s still the two of us against the world
There was a time when those words made you feel like you were on top of the world, soaring high over the clouds.
Now, though, all you could feel was a horrible sensation of dread.
It had been months since Sunghoon and Jongseong’s falling out.
You were seventeen now, but you felt hollower as you aged. Sunghoon showed up to school and lingered within your group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He didn’t approach you anymore or ask to hang out after school. Actually, no one knew what he did after school. He would head straight home and then go completely off the radar.
Gone off the rails, as Sunoo called it.
You cried several nights over it. You felt like not only was your best friend slipping away from you, but Sunghoon’s disconnect from the group would soon make you pull away, too. You had Jaeyun, of course, but nothing felt the same anymore. With Jungwon dead, the group felt tense and gloomy. You all started hanging out with other people and slowly stopped responding in the group chat.
Part of you realized that Sunghoon’s detachment was because you didn’t reply to him the night Jungwon’s murder was publicized. Back then, you suspected that Sunghoon could have been behind it, judging by your conversation with Jongseong earlier. It all added up in your head, but the only thing that was stopping you from believing it fully was that you couldn’t fathom Sunghoon ever doing something so evil.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you whispered into the phone, even though there wasn’t anyone around that you were worried about listening in. “He’s shutting me out now. Something must’ve happened to him.”
You heard Jaeyun hum and contemplate for a moment before he replied, “Maybe he just needs space.”
“I think something happened between him and Jongseong,” you admitted, “but I can’t imagine Jongseong saying anything that would make Sunghoon ignore him for this long.”
“It must’ve been serious, then.”
“But… but it’s Sunghoon; he’s”—you paused as you recalled what Jongseong once called him—“bulletproof.”
There was a pause.
“I guess that’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Jaeyun spoke gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”
What Jaeyun told you that night kept replaying in your head over the next week—over and over again. It hit you a little too hard, and you waited to confront Sunghoon about it. You wanted him to know that he could be vulnerable, too. But you couldn’t even speak to your best friend these days. He had been avoiding everyone like the plague.
You assumed it had something to do with Jongseong, but when you talked to him about it, he was hesitant to get into it.
“You’re the closest person to him,” you told him. Today was colder, and you rubbed your hands together for warmth as you and Jongseong stood by the gates after school. “I think if you guys sit down and talk things out, then he’ll start being himself again.”
“I was the closest person to him,” Jongseong corrected with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Nothing to talk about? What about your friendship?”
You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. Anger roiled deep in your chest, and you were too furious to realize that Jongseong only looked dejected in response. If he wasn’t going to explain what happened, then you couldn’t understand what was eating away at their relationship.
“There is no friendship, Y/N,” he said slowly, in a voice so low that it sounded like the calm before the storm. His words made everything come to a halt, and you felt like time itself had frozen. “I suggest you let go of Sunghoon, too. You’re hanging onto someone who’s beyond help.”
“But I don’t know what you know!” you exclaimed. “I can’t let go of someone just like that, Jongseong. I need answers.”
He was quiet before he asked, “Do you remember when Sunghoon stayed over at your house once when we were fourteen?”
“When his house caught on fire?” you recalled, but the memory was sort of hazy for you. All you remembered was how you were in complete awe that Sunghoon was unscathed and unbothered by the incident.
“Yeah,” Jongseong’s voice was grim as he said, “and I bet he never told you that he was the one who started that fire on purpose.”
It was like a punch to the gut. You could only shake your head blankly, lips parted in disbelief.
He continued, “When we were fifteen, he thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught—”
No.
“—and, at sixteen, he actually did it.”
No. No.
“Jongseong,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended, “was it…”
“Jungwon?” He said the name so carefully, as if the world would explode into nothingness if he did. You had been gnawing at your lip so hard that you drew blood, yet that couldn’t distract you from the haunted look in Jongseong’s eyes. “Yeah, he killed Jungwon.”
You felt like you had just been doused with ice-cold water.
“I shouldn’t have brought Jungwon with me. I knew Sunghoon was gonna do it to someone, but I didn’t know…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath that racked his entire body. “I didn’t think it would be him. I brought Jungwon to talk him out of whatever was going on, not to…” Jongseong stopped himself again, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears that had started to fall.
It’s you and me, Sunghoon’s voice chimed in your head. The two of us against the world.
You thought your world had been shattered, but then you realized that it had actually been broken for a long time.
That night, you asked Jaeyun to come over, and he arrived at your door in record speed.
You two were sitting on your bed, controllers in hand, but the screen was off and neither of you were even in the mood to play. You must have trusted him more than anyone by now because the words started spilling with no preamble. You ended up explaining most of your conversation with Jongseong after you had Jaeyun swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell a soul.
Of course, you didn’t expect any normal person to compliantly come to terms with the fact that their friend murdered their other friend, but Jaeyun was a bit different when it came to you. Instead of accusing you of lying or denying the truth, he believed you wholeheartedly. You couldn’t tell if he was patient with you, or if he was just horrified by everything you had told him.
It had been an entire year since Jungwon had been found dead and the case closed as an unsolved murder, but your words sucker punched Jaeyun like it had just happened yesterday.
Jaeyun’s tone was urgent when he said, “We have to tell someone.” When he noticed your hesitation, he shook his head at you with a disapproving frown. “Y/N, this is serious. This is Jungwon, my best friend.”
Your mouth went dry. “I-I know, it’s just—”
Jaeyun didn’t have to cut you off. You froze right when you saw tears welling up in his eyes.
“Y/N.” He said your name gently, but you still flinched. You had never heard your name being called with so much despair. “If Sunghoon really murdered Jungwon, then I can’t keep this a secret.”
“Give me a few days,” you pleaded. “I just want to hear Sunghoon out. No matter what he says, I’ll come with you to testify.”
He shook his head immediately, eyes fierce. “You are not going anywhere near Sunghoon—not after what he did to Jungwon.”
“Then let me ask Jong—”
“Y/N,” Jaeyun interrupted, letting his hand slide over yours. His eyes were full of concern when he asked, “How do you know you can trust Jongseong?”
Your hands started to shake.
“Y/N,” he said again, “if Jongseong took Jungwon to see Sunghoon, what do you think he did after Sunghoon killed him?”
Your pulse raced.
“If Jongseong knew about Sunghoon’s behavior for this long, why hasn’t he ever done anything?”
All this time, you thought your world had grown a little bigger ever since you met Sunghoon and Jongseong.
But you were living in a fantasy by yourself.
Not so long after your talk with Jaeyun, your phone rang. You were in the middle of finishing up your history paper when you saw the caller ID flash across your screen.
It was Sunghoon.
You didn’t even give yourself time to think about it first. You just picked up the phone immediately. It was an old habit; you saw Sunghoon and accepted the call without a second thought. You never expected Sunghoon to ever call you again, so you didn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls.
“Y/N?” came the familiar voice of Park Sunghoon—gentle, but almost like he was a caged animal.
“Sunghoon?” You swallowed hard. “Uh, how are you? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, but you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. “It was supposed to be the two of us against the world.”
You frowned. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?”
Instead of answering your question, Sunghoon hesitated before saying, “We should catch up sometime. You can read part of the story I’m writing.”
You paused, and before he could ask if you were still there, you replied, “Yeah, sure.”
“Right.” Sunghoon sounded like he had more to say. You almost didn’t catch it because he was so quiet, and the last thing you heard before he hung up was a quiet, “Bye, then.”
Your deepest regret was answering your phone later that night.
It was hours after Sunghoon called you. Jongseong was more of a texter, so you were surprised when his caller ID flashed across your screen. It was definitely not a reasonable hour for a high school student to be out and about, but nothing could have prepared you for what you heard on the other side of the line.
Jongseong was sobbing.
The sound chilled you to the bone. You never heard Jongseong cry, but this didn’t feel normal; this cry was frantic and mangled, like he was spiraling out of control.
“Y/N, you have to come over quickly,” Jongseong begged through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“Jongseong, calm down. Tell me what’s happening.”
“You have my location, right? Just hurry. Please.” And he hung up.
In a daze, you called Jaeyun and asked him to pick you up.
“I really think we should just call the cops,” Jaeyun offered, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jongseong, but this sounds sketchy, Y/N.”
Pitted fear festered in your throat. You knew something was off, but you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Jongseong, too. You had gotten so used to not being alone that you were paranoid of returning to having no one.
“Call them as soon as we get there,” you said. “I just need to make sure Jongseong’s okay.”
Jaeyun pressed his lips into a thin, grim line, but he kept driving.
It was a port that Jongseong’s location directed you to, and discomfort crept into your limbs as soon as Jaeyun pulled into the area. Maybe you should’ve stayed back where it was safer and let the police handle everything, but you must have been a fool. It was just that Jongseong’s cries echoed in your head whenever you started having second thoughts.
You could hear him before you saw him.
Jongseong’s soft sobs could be heard from behind a metal storage unit, and you and Jaeyun inched closer carefully after getting out of the car. Your heart dropped to your stomach; you were dreading the worst, and when you turned the corner into the closed area Jongseong was in, you realized that the sight before you was the worst it could get.
Sunghoon’s body.
You waited for his chest to rise, but not even a shallow breath escaped his blue-tinged lips.
It took you a moment to reorient yourself and realize that Sunghoon wasn’t just passed out, he was dead.
You saw the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his torso, staining his white shirt, but you wanted to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. You convinced yourself that Sunghoon was going to get up any second now and start laughing, and then Jongseong would join in and tell you it was all a joke.
But that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t fear that overtook you—not an overwhelm of emotion—it was numbness. You stared at Sunghoon’s body as he bled out onto the concrete, blood pooling into the cracks in the ground. You felt an odd sort of disconnect.
You tilted your head to see Sunghoon’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His blank eyes just stared into nothingness, and you realized that you would never get to see Sunghoon’s warm, sincere gaze ever again. You were never going to see his bright smile. You were never going to hear his contagious laugh. You were never going to read the wonderful stories he wrote.
You supposed your life was always meant to be a tragedy.
“H-Hoon?” Jaeyun choked up behind you. He was staring down at Sunghoon’s lifeless body in horror before his expression was slowly replaced with anger. “Jongseong, what the hell did you do?!”
“It was self-defense, man,” Jongseong whimpered out before his body was racked with sobs again. “He pulled a knife on me out of nowhere. I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Sunghoon.
“Come on, guys,” Jongseong pleaded. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen now; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” You didn’t know what he was getting at until he requested the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”
You wanted to puke. You eyed the shiny metal soaked in blood that Jongseong was clutching. You were never going to see Sunghoon again. You were never going to hang out with him over the weekend. You were never going to hear his voice again.
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “What the fuck are you gonna do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just killed someone! This is on you, Jongseong, not us!”
“Are you going to help me get rid of it or not?!” Jongseong tugged at his hair. “Just help me throw him off the dock, and we can all walk away from this.”
You watched helplessly, horror-stricken. “I… I can’t.”
“The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” Jaeyun countered with stony eyes. “They’re gonna catch you.”
Jongseong looked terrifyingly pale. You wondered if it was just the glow of the moon, or if he was also holding in his urge to puke. “I’ll just cut his stomach so he sinks.”
Disgusted, Jaeyun scowled. “You’re a monster.”
You watched as Jongseong tried hauling Sunghoon’s body before giving up and dragging him by the legs. You shot Jaeyun a warning look, mouthing for him to call the police before Jongseong noticed. He lingered back to do so while you followed Jongseong to plead him to stop. His arms gave out as soon as he stepped onto the planks, and he let Sunghoon’s lower half collapse onto the solid wood.
“Y/N, help me cut open his stomach,” he ordered, hardly sparing you a glance. If he did, he would have seen how horrified you were.
“Oh,” you said, voice wavering, “that’s… that—that’s his…”
“Y/N, help me.”
“Jongseong,” you begged, “please… please stop.”
He paid you no attention, though. You felt ghastly as Jongseong used a paring knife to make an incision on Sunghoon’s stomach. The smell was putrid. You screwed your eyes shut as the metallic smell of blood invaded your nostrils. Your nausea plunged into your gut, and you had to fight the pervasive urge to hurl.
A stream of Sunghoon’s blood made its way to your shoes, staining the soles.
Jongseong was cutting your old best friend open.
The dread had kept you numb for this long, but it was when reality settled in that you finally lost it. You couldn’t handle it anymore and pitched forward over the edge of the dock, throwing up until you were heaving up bile. You sobbed through it all, mournful and low, and your friend paid you no attention while he was cutting through flesh.
When Jongseong was done, he wiped at his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood. Sunghoon’s blood. You stared at him, and you had never been more terrified of him in your life.
And then you really noticed Jongseong. You noticed how Sunghoon’s blood was coated all over his hands, how he hardly had any scratches or bruises on his body, how merciless his eyes were as he stared down at his old best friend.
The realization that washed over you was frightening.
“Sunghoon didn’t actually try to kill you, did he?” you managed to warble out. “You killed him yourself.”
A deep silence from him followed—heavy and wretched. Sunghoon’s blood was so dark that it nearly looked black under the dim light, and you could only stare helplessly until Jaeyun made his way to the dock, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders.
Jongseong turned to you and Jaeyun, clutching his knife tightly. You could hardly recognize the boy in front of you. You never truly understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until you saw the crazed look in Jongseong’s eyes—cold and haunting.
Jaeyun’s eyes glistened with tears and his throat was thick with emotion when he said, “Jongseong, please—just hang on and… and we can talk this out.”
The hand gripping his knife started shaking. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You guys won’t snitch on me, right?” When there was no response from you or Jaeyun, Jongseong’s desperation grew stronger. He turned to you with his eyes big and terrified. “Y/N, come on, we’ve known each other for years. You know I—”
“Shut up!” Jaeyun yelled. His protective grip on you tightened. “Cut the bullshit, Jongseong. The police are gonna be here soon, and they’re gonna take you straight to prison once they see what you did to Hoon.”
It was like a switch flipped in him. A distant part of your mind wondered if you could get everyone out of this—somehow bring Sunghoon back and go back to your normal life—but you immediately shut down that fantasy as soon as Jongseong’s eyes darkened.
In the darkness, you could make out an amused expression on his face. His smile took on a cold edge.
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll just have to get rid of you two before the police get here, then.”
You felt like your world slowed. Your eyes burned with the threat of tears. You could tell Jongseong was walking closer to you while Jaeyun was desperately trying to tug you and get you to run, but you were frozen in place. You wanted to believe that your old friend wouldn’t actually hurt you, but then you didn’t know what to think when he raised his knife.
It had all happened so fast. Too fast.
In your brief struggle as Jongseong tried to stab you, you heard a sharp gasp that tore you from your haze, like you had just been drenched in cold water. Brutally sober. You tried to push Jongseong off of you, but he was too heavy, too limp. Jaeyun shouldered his way between you two and shoved Jongseong back, grimacing when his skull hit the wood with a thud.
You heard one last, strangled gasp from Jongseong before he stopped breathing. The last star in his eyes twinkled until it dimmed for good.
Jongseong laid flat on the dock with his knife piercing his chest.
As you heard police sirens go off in the distance, Jaeyun wrapped his arms around you before you finally broke down into his chest.
Your best friends were dead and your world was broken beyond repair.
“So, it was self-defense?” Detective Lee asked, his piercing eyes boring right into yours. “Purely accidental? You had no intention of harming Park Jongseong?”
You shook your head. “I still couldn’t process the fact that he killed Sunghoon, so I didn’t think he’d actually try to hurt me.”
You wanted to cry. You bit your chapped lip, but all you could taste was blood that you doubted was even there. You couldn’t even say Sunghoon’s name without seeing that radiant smile of his stained with deep red.
You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I see Jaeyun now?”
Detective Lee eyed you for a moment. Finally, you saw some sort of sympathy in his gaze, although you felt sort of repulsed that you were being pitied in this state. The detective muttered something about him being back later, and he left the interrogation room, leaving you handcuffed to the table.
A minute passed by. Another. Several more.
You were pretty sure it had been at least an hour or two of staring at the wall, but the passage of time felt meaningless now. You could wait hours, even days, but you didn’t think you would ever be ready to confront what cruel reality awaited you.
You were so tired of everything, so exhausted that you didn’t even think about your parents until now. Were they here? Were they informed about your arrest? They must have been worried sick all night.
When the door opened, your head shot up.
“You’re free to go, Y/N,” Detective Lee said, pulling out a key to uncuff you from the table.
You were frozen. You just stared up at Detective Lee with your jaw hung open.
“I know this took awhile, but there was no security footage at the scene to confirm your story,” he elaborated. “But your stories matched up, and we found more evidence in the trunk of Jongseong’s car that he had been planning this murder.”
He helped you to your feet and escorted you out of the room. You were able to pick up everything they took from you before you were locked up in the holding cell—your keys, wallet, and your phone. Then, you were taken to the waiting room where your parents were seated at the far end.
At the sight of you, they all but leapt from their seats to rush over, hands cupping your face and arms embracing your weak, battered figure. There was so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their daughter replaced any anger they had toward the situation. However, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up getting an earful the next day.
“Mom, Dad,” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You were immediately aware of how weak and pathetic you felt. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” your father silenced you by rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Jaeyun’s family wanted us to let you know that he’s okay, too. They just took him home about ten minutes ago.”
You were slightly disappointed. Part of you was hoping that he would wait for you, but you figured Jaeyun’s family would have wanted to go home right away. You definitely would have felt better if you got to see your boyfriend in the flesh to make sure he was alive and well, but you weren’t going to complain now.
There was still a ghost of a smile on your lips as your parents walked you to their car. They gushed and gushed about how glad they were about you being safe and sound, and about how they never would’ve expected Jongseong of all people to end up being a murderer.
You were happy to be alive, of course, but you felt so empty.
You pulled out your phone to try and text Jaeyun, but, as you thought, it was dead.
“Mom, can I use your phone?” you asked, and you dialed Jaeyun’s number immediately as soon as she handed it to you. You had it memorized because it was a combination of numbers that was fairly easy to remember.
It rang four times, and by the fifth ring, you were scared that he wouldn’t pick up. But then, it beeped.
“Hello?” Jaeyun answered. “Who is this?”
It was like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders once you heard his voice. Despite Detective Lee informing you that Jaeyun was, indeed, alive, you felt more reassured hearing it from your boyfriend himself. You wanted to cry then and there, but you didn’t want to make your parents worry unnecessarily.
You forgot you were even supposed to respond when Jaeyun spoke again, “Is anyone there?”
“Jaeyun, it’s me,” you mumbled softly. “Y/N.”
You heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Jaeyun gave you the breakdown of how his experience went, which took a completely different turn than yours. After receiving medical attention, they brought him back to his holding cell to sleep for hardly a few hours. The detective interrogating Jaeyun tried to build trust with him, telling him they wanted to help and just needed his confession. They lied about already having evidence that he killed Jongseong, but Jaeyun denied it and told them the whole story. He was only free to leave after they cross-examined his story with yours.
“Jesus,” you whispered into the phone, breathing out a small laugh. By now, you were already parked at your house and walking to your front door. “This is so fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but we’ll get through it.”
“Yeah, Jae. Us against the world.”
Sim Jaeyun spent nine hours being questioned by authorities.
He knew the nature of the crime that occurred was complex, and he was still reeling from the loss and betrayal that left a deep wound in his chest, but there was something that terrified him still.
It wasn’t the murderous look in Park Jongseong’s eyes, or the blood completely drained from Park Sunghoon’s face.
Rather, what scared Jaeyun the most was that he spent so long pining after you and getting to know you at a deeper level. He genuinely fell hard for you, even though you had monsters in the closet. He thought he knew almost everything about you, like how you were a terrible liar.
Yet, you had just lied about everything that went down last night for nine hours straight.
What scared Jaeyun the most was how clueless he had been about who you really were.
Truthfully, he was also in the wrong for going along with your lie. It was definitely going to bite him back one day. In the moment, though, he was far too much of a coward to go against you. Although he was able to get Jungwon the justice he deserved and allowed his family to finally be at peace with answers, Jaeyun still felt horrible. He just remembered the desperate look in your eyes as your face and hands were stained with blood, begging him to protect you.
Jaeyun’s downfall must have been that he liked you too much to say no.
It was true that Jongseong called you in a panic, begging you to show up at the port as quickly as possible, and it was true that you wanted Jaeyun to drive you there instead of calling the cops first.
Jaeyun knew deep down that you were making the wrong choice, but he had hope that you knew what you were doing. Truthfully, although he liked you a lot, he was still wary about how you felt toward Sunghoon. He just couldn’t understand how you were still unconsciously protecting him after hearing what happened to Jungwon. He knew that you wanted answers, but Jaeyun was worried about how you’d react once you got them.
The real story—the one neither of you told the detectives—never started with Park Jongseong killing Park Sunghoon.
It really started when you and Jaeyun arrived at the port to see that no one was around. It was eerily quiet, and Jaeyun was starting to regret not turning around and heading straight for the police station. When you two got out of the car, you walked several feet down the line of shipping containers before returning to Jaeyun with a confused look on your face.
“I don’t see either of them,” you said, but then your eyes grew unfocused as you stared at something—or, rather, someone—behind Jaeyun.
He turned around to see Jongseong walking over to the two of you in a calm fashion, as if he had no other care in the world. The port was relatively an open space, so he had no idea where Jongseong could have emerged from. Jaeyun rolled his neck, more frustrated than anything.
“Jongseong!” you called out.
When he neared you two, Jongseong shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you brought your boyfriend.”
“What’s going on?” you urged. “Is it Sunghoon? Did something happen to him?”
“Wow, that hurts, Y/N.” Jongseong barked out a laugh, but nothing about his tone sounded sincere. “I call you in the middle of the night and all you can think about is Hoon? Wow. How do you feel about that, Jaeyun?”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just glowered.
Nothing about this felt right.
You stammered, “I-I just assumed—”
“Put yourself in my shoes,” Jongseong cut you off with little regard for your excuses. “Sorry to say this in front of your boyfriend, but imagine how I feel when the girl I’ve liked for years only cares about my best friend.”
The air went still.
Your voice was barely a whisper when you asked, “Excuse me?”
Jaeyun pursed his lips together, and, for a moment, he thought his tongue would start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Sunghoon liked the girl that Jongseong liked, and if that girl was you, then Jaeyun was worried that he already lost you. He knew for months that he would never truly have you the way he wanted. Your feelings for Sunghoon were stronger, and although Jaeyun was able to pack his insecurities into a tiny ball and shove it down his throat, it was all coming out now.
His uneasy heart shattered into a million pieces once he caught a glimpse of your expression—hopeful and longing. And it wasn’t for Jongseong; it was for Sunghoon.
“Now that’s a great expression,” came an overly-enthusiastic voice from Jaeyun’s right.
Park Sunghoon was leaning against one of the shipping containers, arms folded across his chest before he uncrossed them and made his way toward the three of you. He must have been hiding behind the containers this whole time because Jaeyun hadn’t seen him at all before.
The situation was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Jaeyun wanted to shrink back when Sunghoon suddenly took great interest in him, keeping his eyes fixed on him instead of you or Jongseong. He used to have such bright and happy smiles, but, this time, Jaeyun almost thought his grin had been sliced into his face with a blade.
Sunghoon slung an arm over Jongseong’s shoulder. “Wow, Jae, now I really wanna see the look on your face when you’re in total despair,” he crooned, almost mocking. Jaeyun’s blood rushed in his ears when Sunghoon’s tongue swiped across one of his fangs. “You should’ve seen the look on Jungwon’s face.”
Jaeyun lunged before he could even think, but he stopped himself as soon as you held onto him, stopping him from hitting Sunghoon.
And that was when he knew he already lost you.
“Don’t,” you insisted.
“Are you serious?” he breathed out, brows knitting into a frown as he looked down at you.
Shame clung to your throat, keeping your mouth shut, but Jaeyun was more concerned now about the sharp blade pointed at his throat.
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Jongseong had a paring knife pointed straight at him, and Sunghoon’s smile never faltered. They were clearly on the same side. There was a reason why Jeongseong never did anything about Sunghoon after killing Jungwon.
Jaeyun felt stupid for not putting it together earlier.
“I’d listen to your girlfriend,” Jongseong warned. His voice crawled all over him, freezing Jaeyun cold to the bone. “You might as well hear us out before you die here tonight.”
“Can’t exactly let you two run off now that you know what happened to Jungwon,” Sunghoon added.
“Jungwon was our friend,” Jaeyun hissed. “He was my best friend, you sick freak! What did you do to him? Why? He’s never… he never did anything wrong!”
“You’re right. He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sunghoon confirmed, surprisingly calm and collected. “In fact, he exceeded my expectations. It was a great performance, actually.” Jaeyun clenched his fist tight—so tight that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood—and Sunghoon took notice of this with a delighted hum. “You should’ve heard him scream, Jae. I had my doubts about him at first, but when he was begging me for his life, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
You were distraught. “Sunghoon, you—”
It all happened in seconds, like a rubber band finally snapping after being stretched too thin. Jaeyun used his elbow to knock Jongseong’s arm out of the way, and he shoved Sunghoon as soon as he found an opening, driving his hands into his ribs. He heard you cry out, but Jaeyun could only see red until he was dragged back up by Jongseong, the sharp blade of the knife being pressed to his throat.
“Stop!” you cried. “Leave Jaeyun out of this! You wanted me, right? Just let him go. Please.”
“I don’t think so.” Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you. “You two already know too much, and Jongseong and I have been waiting for this finale for years.”
Your eyes had a faraway look in them for a moment before you turned your attention back to Jongseong. “You told me…”
“I told you that when we were fifteen, Sunghoon thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught,” Jongseong filled in the blanks for you, a haunting smile playing on his lips, “and I was in on it.”
Sunghoon tutted. “But you got it all wrong, Y/N. It wasn’t Jungwon’s murder that we were planning; it was yours.”
You looked up at him in horror.
Jaeyun struggled against Jongseong for a moment, face taut with unbridled anger. He just wanted to get to you. Get Sunghoon’s filthy hands off of you.
“I’m a writer. I write stories,” Sunghoon continued. “Isn’t it a great twist? Convincing my childhood best friend that I loved her all this time, only to reveal that she’s gonna die at my hands.” He scoffed. “Jungwon was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was good practice. I was too careless back then. I shouldn’t have left all those drawings and papers out like that when he came over, but now I’m gonna finish the job properly.”
Your breathing was shallow. Jaeyun could see the flood of despair racking your body with soft sobs and quick pants. Your gaze fell to the ground, and Sunghoon peered to catch a better look at you.
“Good,” he praised. “That’s what I wanna see. Wow, that’s great, Y/N. I can’t wait to see more when—”
“Get the fuck away from her!” Jaeyun yelled, grunting when Jongseong pressed the knife harder against his supple skin.
With an exaggerated flourish of his hands, Sunghoon raised both arms and backed up as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He wore an easygoing smile, yet something sinister was tucked behind the curve of his lips. Your inconsolable self stayed fixed in place, staring helplessly at your shoes.
“For the past two years, I’ve been isolating myself from the friend group for the sake of this story and its ending,” Sunghoon said. “I think I deserve a little fun right now, Jae.”
“Fuck you,” Jaeyun spat. “You deserve to go to Hell.”
Sunghoon took a step closer to Jaeyun, ducking his head so that they were at eye-level with each other. Jaeyun tried to struggle against Jongseong once more, but he froze when the knife pierced his skin. He felt something trickle down the column of his neck, and he soon realized it was his own blood.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sunghoon mocked a pout. He lowered his voice by an octave, only for Jaeyun to hear. “Competing with a childhood friend is brave, I’ll tell you that.”
Jaeyun’s blood boiled. To his surprise, Sunghoon gestured for Jongseong to let go of him. He took the paring knife from his friend and handed it to Jaeyun.
“Take it,” Sunghoon said. “Why don’t you try killing me? You wanna get back at me, right? I killed your best friend, after all.”
Owlish, he blinked back at Sunghoon, almost absently. Jaeyun really considered it for a moment—like, really considered it. Some part of him wanted to senselessly beat Sunghoon up until he was unrecognizable, but the morally righteous side of him knew that he could never stoop to Jongseong or Sunghoon’s level.
Jaeyun took the knife by the handle, weighing it in his palm experimentally before chucking it away—far from both Sunghoon and Jongseong. Jaeyun was pretty sure he could overtake Jongseong if Sunghoon turned his back, but he wasn’t sure if Jongseong had another weapon up his sleeve. He heard the blade skid and scrape against the concrete, and he could only hope that Sunghoon and Jongseong being distracted by him would give you time to escape.
But Jeongseong immediately stopped you as soon as he saw you picking up the knife, and he let go of Jaeyun to grab ahold of you. Jaeyun tried to yank Jongseong back by the back of his shirt, but Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head against the metal of one of the shipping containers.
Jaeyun’s world was thrown off-balance. The ground bounced, tilted, swayed. He was so dizzy and disoriented that he couldn’t tell if his head was spinning or if he was collapsing.
The corners of his vision grew hazy with white splotches dancing around. Jaeyun tried hard to focus, making out some of the yelling that was going back and forth, but he couldn’t think at all when a newly-formed cut on his forehead was getting blood all over his face and hands.
He doubled forward, falling onto his knees. Jaeyun had to stay there for a while and ride out the intense waves of vertigo until he was stable again. When the world finally returned to its normal axis and stopped bouncing under him, Jaeyun lifted his head to see you and Jongseong screaming at each other.
And Sunghoon was on the ground.
He stumbled over, and it was as if the white noise in Jaeyun’s ears had drowned out everything in the background. He couldn’t see or focus on anything except the pained look on Sunghoon’s face as the color drained from his neck. Blood was gushing from his jugular vein, and he was digging his palm into his neck to put pressure on the wound.
“—you stabbed him!” you screamed at Jongseong. Your voice was hysterical; Jaeyun had never heard you sound so desperate, not even when he was being held at knifepoint.
“Fuck, Y/N, I wouldn’t have hurt him if you didn’t pull on my arm!” Jongseong yelled back. He sank to the ground, simultaneously dropping the knife and dropping his head between his knees.
The sight was miserable to watch. Jongseong wailed loud and mournful until he couldn’t take it anymore, doubling over so that he could throw up until nothing but bile was coming out. When it seemed as though he had nothing else to heave out of his stomach, Jongseong sat up for a brief moment. You and Jaeyun watched as his eyes rolled back almost instantly, falling onto his back and hitting his skull against the concrete. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him, and you two didn’t have long until he was conscious again.
Jaeyun turned his attention back to Sunghoon, watching his life bleed out of his body slowly. For some reason, an odd disconnect came over Jaeyun, and he bent down to help apply pressure over Sunghoon’s wound. At first, Sunghoon gritted his teeth, but even he knew when to accept help when it was needed.
Sim Jaeyun was pretty sure he was broken beyond belief by now, but it was impossible for him to ignore someone who was dying right before him.
Even if he murdered Jungwon.
“Y/N, we need to get him to a—”
Jaeyun cut himself off when he looked up at you to see that your expression had changed. Something was different. You looked like numbness had seeped into your body, coiling around your heart until you couldn’t feel anything. The way you looked down at Jongseong, clutching his knife tightly, made Jaeyun worry.
“Y/N,” Jaeyun said again—slower, “whatever you’re thinking… please put it down.”
It didn’t seem like you were listening, though. Almost as if your body and brain were at two different places.
“Y/N—” Jaeyun shuddered when you brought the knife down, driving it straight into Jongseong’s chest.
Jaeyun’s stomach lurched. He watched as Jongseong struggled for his life, hardly conscious as you repeatedly stabbed him over and over again until Jaeyun was yelling at you to stop. He was sure he would never be able to close his eyes again without hearing Jongesong’s blood-curdling screams and seeing Sunghoon’s face drained of color.
“Wow,” Sunghoon choked out. One last amused look crossed his face before it fell apart painfully. “I told you, Jae, there’s no competing with a childhood best friend.” Jaeyun flushed with anger, but it dissolved quickly when he realized Sunghoon’s breathing got slower, shallower. The look on his face was one of someone accepting their untimely death. “Thanks for the show, though.”
In his arms, Sunghoon took his last breath and went still.
It wasn’t grief that Jaeyun felt. It was something far greater.
“Jaeyun, I—I didn’t mean to,” you sobbed out, shakily holding up your bloodstained hands. “It was self-defense! I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me, and then he… he killed Sunghoon. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” You exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just stared at you in disbelief.
“Come on, Jae,” you pleaded. Oh, so it was Jae now. “You have to help me get rid of their bodies. I can’t go to prison!”
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “Y/N, they’re dead! We have to tell the police everything. I mean, what are you gonna do when your prints match?”
Your lips pressed together in a grim line. “Your prints are on the knife, too.”
Were you blackmailing him? Jaeyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He never expected you, of all people, to be the one to throw him under the bus like this. He had trusted you with his life before, and you threw it all away in seconds.
“Are you going to help me or not?” You looked toward the dock over the water. It was a good enough distance for you to drag Sunghoon and Jongseong’s bodies over to, but Jaeyun sure as hell didn’t want to get involved. “Just help me throw them in the water, and we can both walk away from this, Jae. We can go back to our lives, okay?”
He shook his head sadly. You just sounded like a stranger to him.
“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, tears stinging his eyes, “please stop this. You have to turn yourself in.”
But his resolve was shaky. Jaeyun knew that he would still be booked once they found his prints at the scene, and there was no telling what you would do to protect yourself. By now, Jaeyun wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow pushed the crime onto him.
“Jae, listen to me,” you insisted. Your eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Jaeyun couldn’t help but think you looked a little crazed. “We can both get out of this, but you have to help me out here. We’re gonna tell them that Jongseong killed Sunghoon before we got here, and then he chased us until we ended up stabbing him out of self-defense. I mean, that’s all this was, anyway! It was self-defense!”
A distant part of Jaeyun’s mind wondered what happened to you. He wondered if you had always been this way, perhaps keeping it tucked away. In the end, you were still trying to protect Sunghoon in your own way. You were still trying to protect some fragment of his golden image.
“It’s you and me,” you whispered, kneeling down by your boyfriend’s side until you were cupping his face with your hands, staining his cheeks with Jongseong’s blood, “the two of us against the world.”
Just hours ago, Sim Jaeyun looked at you like you were his entire world.
And now, with your bloodstained hands holding his face, there was unmistakable fear behind his eyes as he looked up at you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end !! i would lovee for you to guys to share what you thought, but just to point a few things out, jake's pov was the unfiltered version of what went down that night. the dialogue from mc is similar to jongseong's because while she painted him out to be the villain in the end to protect sunghoon, it was really her who said those things. originally this had a happier ending but i'm a lot more satisifed with this one actually. i hope you guys liked it !! <3 also i am deciding against using my permanent tag list this time because i haven't used it in a year and don't know if anyone exactly signed up to read horror 🧎♀️
not enough platonic cuddling in this world methinks
AMOURCHEOL AGAIN????!!!
❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞
historical! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | approx. 45k words (teaser wc. 1.4k words)
s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris.
c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is incredibly bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, this will be very hurt-comfort, hella ansgty but will have a happy ending mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, slightly drunk making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), very soft angsty sex, body worshipping, petnames (chérie, mon ange, darling, angel), overall emotional rollercoaster, more tba!
p l a y l i s t : here!
t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld (let me know if y’all want to be tagged!)
a u t h o r ’ s n o t e : after three years … four rewritings later… she may finally see the light … i am releasing the teaser now but will post the fic when i’m back from holiday! i hope you all enjoy the lil extract <3
SHIT. YOU COULD NOT DO THIS TODAY.
Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.
But then he began to move.
This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you, the greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.
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My cartoon for this week’s Guardian Books.
JOSHUA MUSIC BANK / 211022
today i overheard a girl say "no, f*ck that. i will be lovely to everyone. maybe some people will remember they have a heart."
I SUPPORT THE POCHAKYEOM AGENDA JUST AS MUCH AS I SUPPORT THE SHUAMOROLL ONE
pairings: jaehyun, johnny, jungwoo, jaemin, mark x fem!reader
word count: 55.2k (i have nothing to say for myself)
genre: SMUT, (like…really smutty) mild humor, light fluff
summary: as the period of self-isolation extends, how do five roommates fare?
notes: hi hi! this is the second part to quarantine chronicles which i will not link bc then this won’t show up in the tags :( i hope you enjoy and p l e a s e leave feedback! there will be one part left after this! thank you to @gentledreaming and @xiaomoon for beta-reading this monster of a fic :’)
contents: sex with multiple partners in short timeframes, oral (male & female receiving), fingering, exhibitionism, bondage, sex toys, male anal play, creampie, unprotected sex at (most of the) times (wrap it before you tap it), choking (giving and receiving), dom!reader at times, somnophilia, two threesomes, sub/switch!mark at times, sub!jaehyun at times, sub!jaemin at times, temperature play, sensory deprivation, wall sex, shower sex, rimming, overstimulation, edging, nipple / breast play, degradation, praise kink, face sitting, light daddy kink (it’s, like, barely there), some spit play, light face slapping (let me know if i missed any warnings!)
Day 15
“Jaehyun,” You say loudly, curled up comfortably in your bed.
“What?” He yells back from his room after a beat of silence, and you clear your throat as you prepare to yell again.
“C’mere!” You call, waiting patiently until Jaehyun opens your door, leaning against your doorframe. “Hi,” You coo, and he grins at you.
“What’s up?” He asks, and you raise your arms, blinking up at him expectantly.
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♡ happy birthday to the one and only johnny suh! ♡
I am completely and utterly normal about rivers, creeks, lakes, forests, ponds, hills, mountains, and other natural landscapes (lying)