𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍  – 𝟏𝟕

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟏𝟒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐲?

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧...

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(A/N: the stories are just random but i kinda love the aesthetic so 💀 and pls, not seung getting more and more unhinged 😭 tysm for all the love babies, feedback and reblogs are appreciated!🧸🩷)

TAGLIST: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

What I look like at the function knowing I should be in bed reading a reader insert rn

NO WAY TUMBLR LET ME OUT OF JAIL WHILE UR ON HIATUS, I think they're against us 💔 but fr tho I missed u sm I hope ur hiatus has been good for you and that you've been resting well, I'm so glad its summer break i can finally breathe again AND OMG you've been gone for so long i just realised 😁

Dia did you see the kiss of life x speed collab?? It was so funny 😭

IT RLLY WAS I BUST OUT LAUGHING 😭😭 but no i was not expectkng that combo, and yet ut worked out so well like what weere rheir managers thinking when they thought this up, it was lowkey genius tho 😆😆 ALSO I JUST REALISED YOU WERE ABLE TO SEND AN ASK?? TUMBLR FINALLY DECIDES TO BE KN OUR SIDE AND ITS WHILE I WAS ON HIATUS 😭😭 I missed you sm tho real talk 💞💞

Ok English is not my native language so sorry if this is confusing but I really have to share.

So, the reader is a cute prey-species hybrid preferably small and adorable who has been in love with predatory-species hybrid Sunghoon. He knows how she feels about him but every time she calls him for help because of her jealousy he refuses to go for fear of losing control and not being able to be gentle and careful with her. But after hearing her beg for him and imagining her vulnerable he naturally feels horny so he goes and finds a random girl to blow off steam.

This repeats itself until no longer, that pretty hybrid is no longer following Sunghoon around begging for his attention and strutting around in her cute new skirt hoping to get a look. She believes that she is strong and fit enough to bear the pregnancy and give Hoon cute babies, but since he doesn't seem to believe it, she is already tired.

Now she's laughing with newcomer to town golden retriever hybrid Jake who is wooing her, showering her with flattery and ofering to take care of her in her next heat close. Then Sunghoon decides that it has been enough and knowing perfectly well her cycles, he appears at her house to take care of her and show her that the only one who deserves AND should breed her is him and only him.

Pd. Love your writing from the cat across the garden, that brain of yours is just ✨🤌*Cheff kiss* I swear that the issue of instincts and the upbringing of his hybrid do something to me.

Too good for you. At least, that's what he thought.

Pairing: (Past) Predator!Sunghoon x ImpliedLamb!Prey!Reader , GoldenRetriever!Jake x ImpliedLamb!Prey!Reader

A/N: Changed the trope a bit in order to be more comfortable about was I was writing, if a green flag courts you, you shouldn't go for the red one. Might have misunderstood your asks but well ? And thank you sooo much, I really tried to do the same thing here but it's a bit complicated without the proper setting.

Sunghoon was particularly hellbent on having a predator other significant. And when he met you ? He was even more hellbent on having a predator other significant. You were exactly the opposite of him, delicate, sweet and small - well, for him. You were pretty in your little flow skirt and your lace blouses, batting your eyelashes whenever he was around, welcoming him with a big radiant smile. But this was not what Sunghoon wanted. Well, it was not what he needed, because if he wanted you was another subject he wasn't about to discuss with anyone, not even himself.

Because you were a prey, you were fragile, having a certain grace to your every moves and speaking, skipping when you thought no one was around, enjoying your favorite fruit beneath the shadow of a tree when you weren't hanging with your friends at Uni. And you smelled so good, heavenly, it never failed to make his mouth water and his fists clutch into balls. You were a delicate flower in the middle of a wild field, meant to be gathered by someone caring and sensitive. He was none of that.

He was pretty sure you knew very well that something between you two was impossible. Sunghoon wasn't cocky - maybe just very confident - but he knew that even for a predator hybrid he was one of the best. He was strong, good-looking, popular, hell, he could get whoever he wanted. And he did not want you, he knew for a fact that a single flick of his hand would cause a bruise on your delicate skin, which wasn't used to such treatment. The memory of a fateful day where his and your friends were joking around was still fresh on his mind. Good memory, except for the fact that it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The souvenir of a bruise in the form of a hand on your wrist was something Sunghoon could never forget. He only wanted to help you wen you tripped on your own foot, but instead, he was graced with this horrible sight the morning after. You tried to brush it off, smiling and saying that he only help you, looking at you with those enamored eyes, choosing to ignore how he hurt you, and it made him sick.

And after that he should have stayed away from you, but there was just something about the way you smiled at him as if he wasn't the idol of the school, the deadly renewed predator, but just Park Sunghoon, that made his heart crave your presence. So selfishly he stayed by your side, fighting the urge to to rip you appart, to split you open on his dick while telling you you ate more than you could chew. But he did none of that, even wen you were asking him "Pretty please..." when you asked him to help you during your next heat. And it was your wet of courting him, because you really loved him, and Sunghoon knew it, so he declined your request - because it wasn't an offer at this point, but a request ! Little did you know, after leaving your apartment, he was going off to a girl's apartment, one he met someday, in order to ball deep her and blow off some steam. She wouldn't know that you were the reason he was rock hard right ?

But as girls come and leave, help him 'relax', as he's getting rougher with her, angrier, growing more frustrated each passing days, you, on the other hand, is slowly drifting away from him. You start wearing wet you always liked, joggers, jeans, oversized sweat, and you slowly starts to become who you were before meeting Sunghoon. Not a bimbo prey hybrid who wears mini-skirt and laugh hat everything someone's says. The you from before was caring, maybe a bit silent, smart, shy, yet strong and proud of being a prey type of hybrid. You were a sweet lamb who swore oto never change for anyone and yet. Wearing joggers and darker colors was refreshing, you were comfortable in it, why changing for a little piece of tissue for a man-whore who couldn't see you and like you for who you were ??

And oh~, see the real you was exactly what Sunghoon did, and he appreciated every minute of it, appreciated the days where you came at Uni without a single drop of make-up, appreciated your goofiness with your friends, appreciated seeing you unintentionally show off in your oversized joggers, an almost imperceptible leap in your walk. He loved everything second of it. Until him. Sim Jake, the Golden boy, quite literally, everyone loves him, hell, even Sunghoon likes him, he's a nice person and a loyal friend - probably has something to do with his genetic but don't tell him that. And he could have stayed just that, a loyal friend, but instead, he also became his rival - but the snow leopard will never admit it out loud.

Sunghoon sharp eyes caught the way he was looking at you, holding your hand with such delicacy, always making sure you were comfortable and asking you your order so your shy self did not have to do it yourself. And it was sickeningly sweet. The way he was courting you was a ten out of ten, and Sunghoon was mad at himself for even being mad at the fact that his kind friend was courting you. But what made him really angry was when he overheard you and Jake one night while you were all hanging out.

"Cutie lamb."

The sound of a kiss, a giggle. "Jake- Stop !"

"Gonna carrie my babies and be a strong mommy for my pups..."

"You're so impatient, my heat starts in some weeks."

"'You sure ? You already smell so good. Wanna eat you."

"Stop biting me weirdo."

Sunghoon was mad, crazy even. He was the top, the best of the best, an apex predator, your predator. He thought that rejecting you was the best thing to do, that you would go after a prey hybrid. He might have been a bit cocky on that matter. If only he knew that you did not wanted him because he was a predator but just because he was Sunghoon, things would have been different. But they weren't, and now you were planning on spending your heats with his friend. Like damn.

And that's how, one week later, he found himself in that predicament. Standing at your bedroom's door, his hand covering his nose as the scent of your heat, oh! so delicious, was reeking in the apartment. And he was hard. Painfully hard. He was not to blame. It was Jake's fault. All of that.

He is forced to watch Jake fuck you, again and again. Watch him push his knot into you as you are crying and grabbing his shoulders, begging for him to go slower - but they both know those are empty words, you have a safe word for a reason.

He is forced to watch Jake drink your juices like a thirsty man, slurping, licking and drinking what seems to be a puddle of water in a desert. And Sunghoon nows that he would do the same because he can practically taste you on his tongue. He can imagine how your legs would be caging his head, how you would tug as his strands of hair, whimpering almost imperceptibly.

He is forced to watch your face contort with pleasure as Jake hits all the right spot, your eyes glossy and your mouth half-opened as your struggling to breath properly, ears sagging and twitching when you feel particularly good. Your chest heaving, your pretty breasts pressing against your boyfriend's.

And Jake is cruel. Because he allows him to have a taste. He allows a delighted and out of breath Sunghoon to push his cock into your warm hole as he watches you both, tail wagging frantically because of the excitement - there's just something about watching Sunghoon's ears flattening on his head.

Sunghoon feels you wrap your legs around is waist as he stuffs you with his dick. He watches you push your hips against his, just to get a friction to feel something. And you are so desperate, so willing and needy. He can't help himself but thrust into you; fast and hard, like the predator that he is. And you don't break. You don't cry out of pain, don't push his away from you. No, you hold him closer, making grabby hands at him. And he holds them as he's ruining you, as he watches the bulge in your tummy every time he pushes himself deeper.

And he's about to mount you, to turn you around and to put his baby into you, because that's what you asked him for all those months. But Jake is quick to shove him from you with a lazy smile, to put you on all four and to fuck you like a dog. To prove Sunghoon that you are no longer - if you have ever been, his kitty. No your his puppy.

And remorse hits him hard. Even more when he realizes that those marks and bruises he feared that he would inflict to you are beautiful. Blue colors your skin, and he cums on the spot.

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"

pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader

warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG

wrote this listening to roses <3

Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that. 

Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back. 

The humiliation was killing him. 

Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasn’t just enough to ruin her reputation—he wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasn’t. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.

And that’s when he noticed you.

Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.

You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didn’t utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.

Hell, he didn’t even know you were a cheerleader until that night. 

Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica. 

You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background. 

You were perfect.

If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasn’t as irreplaceable as she thought. 

“You really gonna do it?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you, “Oh yeah. ‘M doing it.”

“Nahh, there’s no way you’re pulling this off.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelce’s skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.

 “You think so?” he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “Watch me.”

Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? She’s cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but she’s not queen material.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. “She’s got potential,” he said confidently. “Just needs someone to show her how to use it.”

Topper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane. This isn’t some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly she’s hot. Jessica had something that can’t be taught.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rafe pointed out, “It’s all about confidence man. Jessica wasn’t born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.”

Like a school project, he thought to himself. That’s all you were. 

Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. “Alright, I’ll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because she’s got a long way to go, my guy.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. “Give me two months. By the end of it, she’ll be turning heads. Maybe even more.”

Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. “Two months? No way. I’ll bet you a grand you can’t pull it off.”

Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’m in. A grand says you can’t turn her into the hottest girl in school.”

Rafe’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on,” he said, without hesitation. “In a month or two, you’ll be handing me that fucking cash, and she’ll be the one everyone’s talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.”

Kelce raised his glass. “To Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelce’s. “Here’s to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.”

He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed. 

“You better start saving up.”

This plan was flawless. 

It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easy—too easy. She’d fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal. 

The next day, he started showing up at places he knew you’d be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didn’t approach you, just observed. 

He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.

You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. “Hey,” he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. “You’re in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldn’t believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.

He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldn’t afford that.

You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.

“You always this buried in work?” he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.

You glanced up, surprised he was still there. “I guess. I have a lot to catch up on.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I hear you. Econ’s been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?”

He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… fine. Just a lot of material.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professor’s trying to torture us?”

You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. “Maybe. It’s kind of her thing.”

Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. “You mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. “Um, sure. I mean, if you want.”

“Definitely,” he replied smoothly. “You seem like you actually know what’s going on, unlike me.”

He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didn’t push, didn’t try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.

“I’m sorry about Jessica.”

The way you blurted the words out told him you hadn’t meant to say it. 

Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didn’t want—Jessica’s name being brought up, especially by you.

But he couldn’t let you see that. 

He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. “You know about that?”

You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. “Yeah… I mean, it’s all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I just—I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “I guess it’s just one of those things, y’know? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.”

You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page. 

“She shouldn’t have done that to you.”

He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasn’t angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. “But hey,” he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, “Everything happens for a reason right?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. “Right."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re not like everyone else around here. You’re real, y’know? Genuine. I like that.”

Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “I’m just…here.”

Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to see that.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.

Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, “Thanks, Rafe."

Oh, you were too perfect for this.

He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.

 “Anytime."

It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.

But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place. 

He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. “So,” he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “You think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because I’m pretty sure I’m doomed without you.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another. 

Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. He’d walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.

He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

He’d invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differently—nothing too drastic, but enough to catch people’s attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.

The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place you’d only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on you—made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.

“I don’t know… I’m not really into parties,” you admitted.

Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?”

His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. “Okay. I guess I could give it a shot.”

The first party was initially awkward—loud music, people you didn’t know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged. 

But Rafe stayed close. 

The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonight—more confident, more assertive. 

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re with me. Have some fun, sweets.”

You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on you—on both of you—were hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.

He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.

“Guys, this is her,” Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “Told you I’d get her to come out with us.”

Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. “Well, well, Cameron. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. “Nice to meet you. Rafe’s been talking you up.”

You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. “Nice to meet you too.”

Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.

“So?” Kelce asked, “How’s the project going?”

Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Better than expected. She’s starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but I’d say we’re on track.”

Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. “She seems… nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?”

Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Topper shrugged. “Just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what you’ve got planned.”

Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s sweet, alright. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She’s not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, it’s gonna be legendary.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “Exactly. She’s perfect for this.”

He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyes—something he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.

When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy he’d been playing for you all night.

“Got something good?” he asked, nodding towards your drink.

You giggled, holding up your cup. “Just punch. Thought I’d start slow.”

He snorted, nodding approvingly. “Smart move. Don’t let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.”

The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourself—whether to grab another drink or use the restroom—his demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and he’d share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.

But you didn’t see any of that. 

You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to come down.

Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. He’d spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.

But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.

He knew better than to get too comfortable. 

He knew his ex wouldn’t stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.

“Rafe, can we talk?”

He didn’t look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasn’t even worth the effort. But he couldn’t resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. “What’s up?”

Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”

She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. “Don’t act like you don’t know. She’s a nice girl, I know she’s not your type.”

Rafe couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Jealous?

Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—guilt. 

“No. You’re just going to use her to get back at me? That’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve that.”

He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. “You didn’t think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?”

"Rafe."

"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."

Jessica flinched, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

“Do you even realize what you did to me?” The memory of the last time he’d trusted her flashed before his eyes—the way she’d smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair.”

Jessica’s expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying it for her."

"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"

"You're being difficult for no reason."

Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didn’t get to play the moral high ground after everything she’d done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.

“Stay out of it, Jess” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d been expecting this. “Just think about it before you do something stupid."

Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment he’s attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.

This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.

But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game. 

Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself. 

He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like he’d planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasn’t just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.

One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun you’d had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up—it caught him off guard.

“Thanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought I’d actually enjoy these things, but you make it… I don’t know, easier, I guess.”

Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words. 

“I’m glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.”

You looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didn’t have to be this nice to me.”

For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.

His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. “It’s no big deal. Really.”

But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.

You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you too—your innocence, your trust.

He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Rafe… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you began, your voice a little hesitant.

He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Yeah? What’s up?”

You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. “Why did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or… or something else?”

Rafe’s mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t hurt you. He could lie, like he’d been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.

But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. “Because… I’m glad you did. Whatever the reason was. I’ve never felt this… this good about myself. And it’s because of you.”

Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Fuck. He’d never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasn’t just part of his stupid revenge plan. He’d thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers.

He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve always been amazing,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I just… I just helped you see it.”

You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls he’d carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.

He couldn’t let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan. But pushing you away now, after all the effort he’d put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned down and kissed you.

It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.

But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back. The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.

You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

This was wrong. 

He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.

What the fuck was he doing? He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldn’t help but feel that he was the one who was losing.

Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessica’s words mocked him.

“I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”

He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior. But now, lying there alone, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was any different. He didn’t plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.

How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.

And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyes—these were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.

The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something else—you.

Rafe’s resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.

When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met you—still shy, but with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed. 

He noticed everything about you these days.

“Hey,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Anytime,” he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. “Ready for another day of fun and learning?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadn’t been there a month ago. “If by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.”

He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. “I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. You’re just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.”

You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again. “Yeah, that’s me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.”

“See? I knew it,” Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldn’t quite shake.

The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.

“Rafe, can I ask you something?”

He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding. “Sure sweets, what’s up?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit he’d noticed you had when you were nervous. “Why did you kiss me?”

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he’d been dreading—the moment when you’d start questioning everything. He couldn’t afford to slip up now.

“Why not?” he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didn’t expect. “I like you. I like being around you.”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if you’d decided to believe him.

“Okay,” you said softly. “I just... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? It’s just... new.”

“Good new, though, right?” Rafe asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you admitted, “Good new.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafe’s effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more. 

Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with you—a far cry from the shy girl he’d first approached in the library.

As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.

“Hey, you two,” she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. “Mind if I join?”

“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.

The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something you’d done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise. Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.

When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. “She’s nice. I didn’t think she even noticed me before.”

“She notices you now,” Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just... thinking.”

“About what?”

He leaned back in his chair. “About how you’re starting to steal everyone’s attention here. What am I gonna do when you’re the most popular one around here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”

Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.

As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.

Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Yo, Cameron. What’s up?”

Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. “I need to talk, man. About the bet.”

Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafe’s voice. “What, you already feeling bad for her? Didn’t think you’d go soft so fast.”

Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. She’s... she’s actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious. “Dude, we all knew she was nice. That’s what makes this so good. You’re flipping the script. Just remember why you’re doing it.”

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but... She trusts me."

And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.

Kelce was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice firm. 

“Look, Rafe, you’re in too deep to back out now. If you quit, she’ll still get hurt, and you’ll look like a fucking idiotl. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? It’s not about her, it’s about Jessica.”

Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldn’t see him. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. I just needed to clear my head.”

“Good,” Kelce said, his tone lightening. “Now go get some sleep or something. We’ve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, man.”

By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened. You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching you—a guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.

The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close. The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadn’t expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.

You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you weren’t used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.

Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.

When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.

“Rafe, what’s—”

He didn’t let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him. And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with a raw intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didn’t care who was around, who was watching. 

All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.

You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.

Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get enough.

People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didn’t care. He didn’t pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at him—dazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

“What... what was that?” you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.

Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him. 

He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching.  Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. She’s mine.

When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something else—something that looked a lot like longing. He knew he’d just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.

“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice softer now. “We’ve got class.”

You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.

As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.

“Rafe—”

“You’re my girl,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. “Okay?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didn’t care.

“Rafe…” you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. “I just… I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, us—"

“Okay.”

He was already in too deep.

And just like that, he got what he wanted. 

The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together. The next two months were a dream—utter bliss. You weren’t just happy; you were radiant. You’d become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale. 

Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldn’t get enough of you—your sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.

But deep down, in a place he didn’t dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes. He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didn’t matter anymore. After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.

Until it ended. 

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

It’s after cheerleading practice, and you’re alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but there’s something different today—a tension you can’t quite place. 

As you’re zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldn’t normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.

"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."

Oh.

Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"

Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafe’s been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

No. No, this can’t be real.

Leila’s voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation she’s causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. She’s out there thinking he’s her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."

Jessica doesn’t say anything, but you can’t bear to hear more. You feel like you’re suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system. Before you know it, you’re running—out of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare that’s suddenly become your reality.

The ache in your chest doesn’t fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.

You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movement—squeaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.

He’s in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus you’ve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leila’s words slams into you like a tidal wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.

You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you don’t care. You’re beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what he’s done.

"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.

He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name. The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you. 

Now, all you see is a liar.

“What’s wrong baby?” He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.

You don’t answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together. But it’s impossible. The dam breaks, and the words tumble out.

“Was I a bet?”

His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.

For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you it’s all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.

He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explain—”

“Was I a fucking bet?” you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you can’t control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.

His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but there’s nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.

“It started as a bet,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, it’s as loud as a gunshot. “But it’s not like that, I swear. I—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you can’t stop. It’s like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation you’ve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you don’t have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly he’s messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away, 

“We’re done.”

“Please, just listen,” he pleads, his voice cracking.

“No.”

And with that, you leave. 

Rafe’s voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and you’re left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.

“Go away,” you say, your voice barely holding steady.

“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained with desperation. “Not like this.”

You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?”

He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I—”

“But you didn’t,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “You let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t a game,” he insists, his voice cracking. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.”

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.” 

Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation. 

“It wasn’t a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actually—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you. That’s real.”

For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.

“I don’t even know who you are."

You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.

“It isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “It’s not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.”

Rafe takes another step closer, “Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”

"You don’t get to have a chance. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.”

You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you can’t. 

Not this time.

With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “I’m done.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.

But you’ve made up your mind. 

“I mean it. We’re done. I need you to stay away from me.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he can’t believe what you’re saying.

But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows there’s no coming back from this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction. 

The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind. 

The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t feel victorious. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, “What now?” He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.

This time, he doesn’t follow you. 

THE MORE IS READ THE MORE SHOCKED IT GOT WHEJKSKSKSKALSSN OMG JAY BABE???? WDYM „ring we picked last time“ ???????

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟓𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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(A/N: we literally only have two chaps and the epilogue left this is CRAZY 🤕 thank you guys so, so much for all the love and support, am sending everyone kisses pls accept them as a form of gratitude 🥺 i love you all sm💞 feedback is always appreciated!!!💞🧸)

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►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #002 [Sunghoon.]

Part 1 of this can be found here ‣ #001

Abstract: As you had foreseen, Sunghoon and you were back to being strangers. While it was all you had initially wished for, the suddenness and extremity of it was gnawing you from inside as it made you feel as if the past few months had been nothing —that you, too, were in fact nothing. All the while, cases around town continued to rise and in tandem, your recurring night terrors intensified, increasingly blurring the lines between dreams, memories and reality. In the midst of it all, you realised that happenings around town and around you did not add up. The more you dig however, the more you realised how close real danger had always been. How deeply entangled you actually were in the whole web with Sunghoon seemingly being connected to. But is he merely connected to it or has he been the one spinning the web intricately all these while?   ‣ [ do check out Part 1 first ]

Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy | romance // wc: ~10.8k

Warnings: blood; violence; injuries; slight suggestiveness (forced); mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation; toxicity; trauma.

i : back to square one

To say that the past few months had been a whirlwind would be an understatement. With the amount of unprecedented things happening around you and to you, it all felt kind of like a fever dream. It didn’t help that since you’ve submitted your assignment, Park Sunghoon, the campus heartthrob who somehow couldn’t leave you alone even for a second last semester, has suddenly gone cold on you. Let alone just simply greeting you, he had never even casted you a single glance since the last day you guys worked together. In fact, you could be right in front of him or beside him and his eyes and attention would just always be on anyone and anywhere but you. While you had foreseen this, even being the one to have told him that the assignment was the only thing binding you two together, the way it all shifted just overnight made it impossible to quell the distaste you feel within — that you were used. That all those months, labouring over the assignment, sharing jokes and stories, were nothing — that you were nothing. 

And just like that, you guys were strangers again.

“Are you sure nothing happened that night?” Sunoo elbowed you, bringing you back to reality. Deja vu, you thought, remembering how Sunoo had asked a similar question just months ago when Sunghoon started pestering you. You were going to answer him but got immediately distracted by whatever he was shooting daggers at. You followed his gaze, regretting it almost immediately, as you saw that it was at Sunghoon and his little clique who were walking from the opposite direction. As usual, while the rest of the clique were being rowdy and playful with one another, Sunghoon, at the back, stayed unperturbed, hands in his pockets, eyes straight ahead — always looking so disengaged and aloof. You don’t even have to worry about him catching you staring because he wouldn’t. It is literally as if you had turned invisible since your last day together.

"What a prick," Sunoo scoffed, somehow feeling victimised on behalf of you as Sunghoon just passed you by without as much as a glance, “Something must have happened to have turned him so cold all of a sudden y/n — I mean he can’t just shift like that overnight. Did you not remember the way he stared at you before this so-called Cold War happen? it was disgustingly dripping with attraction and obsession, you’d have to be blind to miss it. Seriously, tell me the truth, did you guys fight or disagree or—”

“Sunoo, first things first. He was never obsessed with me. You were the one making that assumption. While we did work well together, at best we were just groupmates — not even friends probably. So it makes sense for it all to just revert to square one now that the assignment is over,” you sighed exasperatedly as you pressed the button of the elevator in front of you, “and for the umpteenth time Sunoo, no, nothing happened.”

At least that’s what I think, you thought to yourself as you reminisced about that night you last worked with Sunghoon together. You remembered working until dawn with him. You remembered leaning back against his sofa. You remembered him staring. You remembered packing up. Then you remembered waking up in your own bed, apparently having chronically overslept. You couldn’t exactly remember how you got home though, to be honest. You remembered snippets of it — city lights, sound of cars passing by, the sound of the door, certain warmth and pressure — but it was all a blur. When you woke up, you felt so lightheaded and groggy with your body aching and sore in some places. Then there was this unexplained level of hunger which made you dawn a whole 16” box of pizza to yourself that day — it was as if you had been fasting for days.

The ache eventually subsided and your appetite eventually returned to normal but now and then, you'd get dizzy spells. To make matters weirder, when you went for blood donation not long after, the Nurse deemed you ineligible as a donor as your Haemoglobin count was abnormally low — a drop that was quite alarming given how you have never had such histories and considering how you have not donated nor lost massive amounts of blood recently. It was all very weird but in the absence of any rational explanations, you attempted to make sense of it all by attributing it to how bad your sleeping and dietary habits have become weeks following up to the deadline as you only fuelled yourself daily with 2-hours of sleep and an inordinate amount of coffee.

Then of course there was Park Sunghoon, who went from suddenly having perfect attendance during the last semester to suddenly missing most of his classes this semester. During the few times when you do see him on campus grounds, his attention would always be on anywhere and anyone but you. It eventually got pretty obvious to you that with the assignment submitted, whatever you two had, if it was even worth labelling as friendship, must have ended with it.

“Are you going to just stand there?” Sunoo snapped his fingers, bringing you back to reality, as he continued pressing the elevator button to keep the door open.

“Right sorry, I was just—"

“Spacing out?” he cut you mid-sentence, "you have been spacing out a little bit too much lately, do you know that?"

"This semester's schedule is pretty crazy, I'm probably still trying to acclimatise to it," you lied, plastering a smile when Sunoo suddenly took out a yellow file from his bag, beckoning you to take it. It has the word 'CONFIDENTIAL' stamped across the cover. Absentmindedly, you flipped it open, almost cussing out loudly as grisly shots of dead bodies greeted you, “Sunoo, what the f-” you glared at him beside you, shutting the file close almost immediately when the elevator door opened to the 7th floor of the library.

“Right sorry, should've warned you beforehand —” Sunoo smiled sheepishly, "they’re some shots of the latest victims of our town’s serial killings — hey, stop glaring at me, I didn’t steal them from somewhere — I just, you know happen to beat the police to it—”

“Happened to be?” you stressed, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Fine,” Sunoo grunted, “that genius Ni-Ki somehow managed to intercept the police radio station so we receive all these reports at the same time as the police and well, lucky for us, since they are massively incompetent in responding in a timely manner, we got the privilege of seeing the body and the place first before they do. We’re not that stupid though — of course we kept our distance. Otherwise, we’d be mistaken as suspects instead.” 

“You look and sound inappropriately ecstatic about something so grim,” you grumbled, finally opening the file again, grimacing at the grisly shots, “Aren’t you two being too serious about this? I mean, the press and the police are already on it, why meddle further? I get the curiousity but isn't this too much effort and risk?"

“Well, I happen to be serious about getting that scholarship to New York and this, oh boy, this piece, would just throw everyone else's applications down the drain," Sunoo enthused, "and well as for Ni-Ki, that boy loves danger and adventure, he wouldn’t even care about the risks.”

You shook your head dismissively as you flipped through the pages, “but didn’t you say the bodies were drained of blood last time? These are all pretty bloodied. Do you think they might have been done by a different perpetrator?“

Sunoo stopped pacing around and hurried over, peeking over your shoulders, "oh yeah, I almost forgot about that report-"

“Or they could be the same killer actually, just changing up his tactics to throw the police off the trails...” you suggested, seeing Sunoo’s forehead scrunching in deep thoughts as he pored over the idea. You continued, “or a badly-done copycat killing—”

“Oh shit,” Sunoo gasped, snatching the pictures from you, “You are so smart, I didn’t even — I should make a proper timeline, connecting coroner's reports and pictures, maybe—”

“Don’t get too excited though. I’m no criminal profiler, I could be completely off— hey!” you yelped, rubbing your cheek in disgust as Sunoo had just absentmindedly planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Sunoo, stop that! people will get the wrong idea—” you grumbled, trailing off as you looked around the library cautiously. You stopped short when you noticed how, in the midst of people being busy in their own world, someone just across the floor, by the railings overlooking the atrium, was staring right at you. Hands against the railings with gaze so intense, unflinching and unnerving, it was Park Sunghoon. You realised that this had been the first time he had given you any slightest attention since you guys had submitted your work. You scoffed then, remembering all the times he could've been cordial to you before but instead chose to act as if you never existed. You broke the eye contact, walking away towards the side of the floor which would have been out of his field of vision, thinking to yourself, "well, two can play the game."

ii : nightly terrors

It was just supposed to be a quick power nap — one to quench your exhaustion and also to kill time as you wait for Sunoo to finish transcribing his interviews. As your mind flitted through a series of vivid hypnogogic hallucinations however, it all gradually warp into a familiar foreboding scene: a long dark hallway — eerily quiet and hauntingly cold, both ends of which just seemingly leading to a dark abyss. Every time you see this exact scene materialising in your dreams, you were hit with a wave of familiarity — as if you’ve seen the place, as if you’ve been in it. But never could you dwell longer on it because within seconds, you’d always find yourself sprinting towards the darkness, fumbling clumsily to open the door that apparently lay at the end of it, only for it to be slammed close the moment you succeed.

You would then feel yourself harshly spun around, your back slammed against the door. You swallowed thickly as the dark figure loom closer before you, knowing full well what would happen next and bracing yourself for the fate. It was after all the same nightmare that has been plaguing you on most nights since a few weeks ago. Despite the recurrence however, the feeling of terror and dread never subsided — striking you anew each time as you helplessly and passively relive each one of them. You realised however, something was different this time.

For starters, you realised you could feel: the pain on your back, the fabric of the man's sleeves under your grasp, his sharp nails digging onto the skin of your arm — you could feel them all. Then, as you furl and unfurl your fingers as you willed, you were hit by the realisation that unlike in the previous nightmares where you had no control over your body, this time, you were awake — you were lucid.

You wasted no time then, attempting to spin the nightmare around this time. Staring back up boldly at the figure in front of you, you grabbed a fistful of his collar, pulling his face closer to you, "you... I know you don't I?”. You weren’t exactly sure why you said that to him but as the moonlight that had streamed through a nearby window casted a slight glow on the lower part of his face, you realised that that man might really be someone you were familiar with — the paleness, the angular jaw, the plump rosy lips — you had seen it before. Suddenly the smirk on his face widened into a toothy grin, his tongue making a quick swipe across his teeth — the canines of which were abnormally elongated and sharp, they looked almost like fangs.

The next thing you knew he had dipped his head onto the crook of your neck, paralysing you with the vividness of it all: his lips ghosting over your bare neck, his tongue gliding over a particular spot, followed by, you winced, a prick of pain at the exact same spot. Suddenly, the ability to feel felt more like a curse, as you feel him sucking on your neck. While you already expected the move, it had always been painless and sensationless — so with the ability to feel taking the vividness of the dream to new heights, you found real panic and terror rising within you. You lifted your hand and as expected, blood had trickled down your arm but you didn’t expect that it had been dripping down onto the ground, pooling by your feet. You gasped, feeling truly aghast and terrified for your life. You begin thrashing wildly against him, hitting, pushing and screaming for him to get off of you, but alas he was stronger and with every effort and strength you take, the weaker you grew.

You feel yourself slowly giving up when you started hearing someone calling your name faintly, "y/n... y/n!"

The voice grew louder and with each calls, you feel increasingly disconnected from your body with the scene before you slowly getting hazy and blurry. 

“Y/N!”

You suddenly jolted awake, gasping and disoriented as the scene moments ago crumbled into something else. Instead of the faceless tall man from moments ago, you found yourself being held by Sunoo. His brows were furrowed in a mixture of worry and fear, his hands tightly grabbing onto your wrists as if trying to restrain you, “Y/N! Are you alright???!”

“I- uh” you croaked as you looked around the room, trying to acclimatised to the environment and confirm that this is indeed the reality, not whatever bloody terror you had just witnessed earlier. 

“You were screaming and I tried to wake you up but instead you just thrashed around, almost hitting me and I just had to hold you down like this—" he rambled as he loosened his grip and held your face up, as if to further confirm if you were okay. You mustered a weak smile as you started to calm down a little bit, “I’m sorry. It was a nightmare. I’m fine… it’s just — just a nightmare.”

You lied. You did not feel fine at all and it was not just a nightmare — not when it had been plaguing you almost every night since weeks ago, never ceasing to strike so much dread and terror despite the repetitions. You realised that they had gotten increasingly more detailed and vivid as of late — often revealing something new each time but never had you been awake and lucid in it as you just had. It all felt so real — as if it had been a memory that you unlocked, replayed and relived — rather than just some a trickery of the mind once one falls asleep.

“But, I’ve never seen you so—"

“Hey, it’s just a nightmare… I'm okay, really...” you reassured him, though it kind of felt as if you were trying to reassure yourself too, "I'll just get myself some water. Go continue with your work Sunoo..."

You got up, groggily making your way to the pantry near the big board. As you were dawning a glass of water, your eyes darted cautiously across the clippings of the serial killer news on Sunoo’s cork board, wondering if all the morbidity you have exposed yourself to almost on the daily had wormed themselves deep inside your brain that they end up seeping into your dreams as well. Probably the only plausible explanation, you reasoned with yourself when your eyes keep on zeroing in onto the odd marks on the neck of the victims. In the midst of all the cuts and gashes, some of the bodies featured odd puncture wounds: some double, some single. Like a snakebite or something. 

Subconsciously, your finger had travelled up to your neck, grazing a spot where a cut had mysteriously appeared just a few weeks ago. You realised just then that it was around the same spot where that man in your dream had punctured, or rather, bitten into. You winced at the memory, still somehow able to feel the pain despite the fact that it had happened in a dream.

The first time you noticed the cut was the day after the assignment deadline as you were rushing to get ready after having overslept. When you first saw it, it was still red — indicating that it was likely not even 1-2 days old — and about 8 cm long. You remembered being weirded out as you could not remember nor imagined how you could ever accidentally hurt yourself on such a spot, in a such a way. On the elbow or on the knee? sure. But on the crook of your neck? debatable. The more you assessed the cut in the following days however, the more you noticed something odd about it. The cut somehow slightly curved outwards at two points, as if it had run over another wound. Eventually you got busier and forgot about the cut altogether.

Tonight however, you found yourself thinking about the cut again, which by now had fully healed fading closer to the colour of your skin, as you looked at each of the pictures before you, trying to scrutinise the injuries on their neck. Suddenly Sunoo snatched the pictures off the board, “alright, no more dead bodies for you y/n. It was my fault — I didn't even consider how you feel. Perhaps its been too much for you and —”

But you weren't listening anymore. You just watched silently, your mind on overdrive, your finger still rubbing the scar on your neck. “Wait,” you finally said something, grabbing Sunoo’s hand to stop him, “do you have clearer pictures… of the neck perhaps?”

“Well, Ni-Ki is developing the rest so there should be some—" Sunoo mumbled when the door opened.

“Ni-Ki!” you called out, as he emerged out of the photo studio, asking if he has any other pictures. He nodded excitedly as he handed you the bundle of pictures. You grabbed a few clearer ones, trying to confirm your allegations. 

“Guys… what if…-“ you mumbled, “I mean, I dont know for sure, these pictures aren't the clearest but... if you look at the neck, some of them have what looked like puncture wounds — some had like two punctures, just like a snakebite, though some only had one. But,” you continued, pushing some of the pictures forward, “wherever there’s only one, there is always another cut either above or under and look over here, wherever there's none, the necks are mostly covered by frenzied slash wounds—” you swallowed thickly, reminded of your own scar, the possible wound underneath, and the dream, "I mean it could just be nothing... but I can't help but think that what if, what if, the haphazard wounds over the neck is meant to mask the puncture wounds?”

"Okay," Ni-ki scrunched his brows as he considered the possibilities, "but why though?"

"Beats me," you shrugged, sinking onto a nearby stool, "it's just the few common denominators that seem to stick to me. Maybe it's the real weapon? Not sure what kind of tool would have inflicted those kind of wounds though—"

"No you're actually right," Sunoo nodded, rubbing his chin as he pored over all the reports of past serial killings that he had read and researched on, "with that kind of mark, it might have been easier for the police to track the killer through the weapon so maybe his game plan was actually to cover it up hence why most of the bodies have slash wounds haphazardly inflicted around their neck. And then perhaps due to timing, carelessness or just pure laziness, he would end up slashing less than usual, making the puncture mark visible on some of the bodies."

"Do you think it could be a syringe or something? maybe to poison or incapacitate them beforehand," Ni-ki wondered aloud, "or I don't know a modified bat with nails at the end—"

"Wait, since y/n mentioned that it kind of looked like a snakebite... what if it isn't a weapon?" Sunoo gasped, gesticulating wildly, "what if it's actually a snake? like maybe the killer, being sick enough in the head, unleashed a snake on the victims first to torture them or something before —"

"What are the odds of a snake biting someone at the same exact spot though?" Ni-ki raised his brows.

"You're right," Sunoo pondered, "unless they put a bait on that exact spot — wait, what if..." he gulped, lowering his voice to a whisper, "vampires?"

"Get out of here Kim Sunoo," Ni-Ki scoffed, shaking his head dismissively.

What Sunoo said definitely sounded sillier but somehow instead of shooting the idea down immediately, like you would have, the scene from your recurring nightmare flashed across your mind, sending shivers down your spine: the abnormally long canines; the bite on your neck; and the blood dripping. You furrow your brows, trying to quell feeling of dread rising within as you touched the scar on your neck, while your eyes travelled from one pictures to the other, looking at the puncture marks on their necks.

"Vampires are stuff of fables but," you murmured, "there might be some relevancy there. What if it's a fetish or a quirk? maybe he's obsessed with vampire lores or maybe is psychologically ill and believe that he is one — either way, what I'm trying to say is that maybe he's trying to mimic it. But," you sighed, frustrated with your own train of thoughts and deduction, "why cover it then? if you're obsessed with the thought that you are a vampire or something, wouldn't you want to leave it as it is? rather than cover it?"

Sunoo and Ni-Ki nodded in agreement, debating it further, but you weren't listening to any of it anymore as your mind became increasingly preoccupied with more questions — all of which were now directing towards yourself: the cut, the dream, the maniac from before.

"— let's stake at the harbour next," you hear Ni-Ki said and Sunoo agreeing almost immediately. Without missing a beat and without any further thought, you interrupted, "I want in."

“Really?” Sunoo’s face lit up momentarily before suddenly schooling his expressions, “- wait no, you’ve already brushed with a potential serial killer like two months ago. I am not going to put your life in danger.”

“Sunoo, you know how I feel about unsolicited paternalism,” you grumbled, arms folding, “like you said last time, I’m smart — I would be a great asset to you both. Like just now.”

“You’re in,” Ni-Ki pushed Sunoo aside and extended his hands to you, “if we are serious about this, we need her intelligence. I mean even both of our brains can’t analyse and observe the pictures with such insight even though we have been on this case for months.”

You grinned triumphantly, taking in Ni-Ki’s hands proudly before sticking your tongue out at Sunoo. Sunoo opened his mouth to protest but closed it immediately, finding himself wrought in a mental dilemma. He groaned, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine. But you must stick to us whenever we go to the field okay? Must. I know you always go off alone and slip away but not this time.”

“Geez, okay mum,” you mocked, before offering your hand to him, beckoning him to shake it.

You weren't exactly certain what you wanted to gain from this, if not just further troubles. But something about the case and whatever has happened around you seemed to have a link. It might just be something psychological — maybe the fear from the serial killings has insidiously seeped into your mind, making you dream and hallucinate to the point of connecting dots that weren't there in the first place. Still, sitting around and letting yourself be haunted by your own nightmares and news headlines wouldn't do any good, you thought. If anything, at least by tagging along with them, you can either confirm or dispel whatever nagging presumptions you had about whatever has happened around you and to you.

Little did you know just how messy the whole thing was. How true the saying 'ignorance is bliss' is.

iii : confronting the elephant in the room

When results for the last semester was finally released one fine afternoon, all eyes were on you. After all, the assignment that you and Sunghoon had laboriously worked on for Macroeconomics was awarded the only ‘A’ in the module — in fact, the only A awarded ever under the module after like two years.

“Well, that’s what happens when you ask two of the brightest in the faculty to work together,” Sunoo elbowed you, smiling sheepishly as you stared agape at the screen, still in disbelief at the grades displayed on your dashboard.

The joy was however short-lived as you were called to the Professor’s room not soon after. Apparently he was so impressed by the paper, he had invited you and Sunghoon to co-author a paper with him for an upcoming annual conference. As Sunghoon did not show up to his office, the professor had instead asked you to pass the message to him — the task of which you wished you could have outsourced given how Sunghoon does not seem so keen to engage with you anymore. And you, too, weren't exactly ecstatic to engage with him again either.

Hence why you were fiddling nervously with your pen the next morning in lecture as your eyes darted back and forth from Sunghoon, who was seated at the other end of the lecture theatre, to the brochure about the upcoming conference in your hand — your mind set ablaze with dilemma. You really did not want to talk to him again that you even considered turning down the professor’s offer altogether — but that would be irrational, you thought. It was after all an opportunity like no other that could embellish your resumé further, making you more attractive to prospective employers. Then alternatively, you had also considered to just not pass on the message and tell the professor that you haven't seen him or something. But you thought that would be selfish of you. After all, it was a joint paper so he deserves the credit and opportunity as much as you do. Hence, setting your ego aside, you decided to run after him after the lecture ended. 

You didn’t really have any expectations. At worse, you pictured him scoffing and saying “no thanks”. But well, he exceeded your expectations in the worse way possible. The moment you caught up to him, he did not even bother to act friendly or civil. There were no ‘hi’, no smile — nothing, just an expression of disinterest if not, annoyance, as he took his EarPods off. You begun explaining about the Professor's offer and the upcoming paper as you handed the brochure to him, though the lack of interest which was apparent on his face, and the lack of response were making you feel increasingly unnerved and embarrassed. As if that wasn't enough, he further made you feel worse as he interrupted mid-way, handing the brochure back, “and? am I supposed to be happy for you? or interested in this? what?”

“Uh—" you were rendered speechless for a moment, “I mean, the professor is inviting us to both co-author a paper together again. It was after all our work. You deserve the credit as much as-" 

“I couldn’t care less,” he exhaled sharply, “about this or about you taking the credit. Do whatever you want. I’ve done my job as your partner last time.”

You swallowed thickly, his words searing more than you expected, “Well, that’s fine then. I was just passing the message on.”

“Anything else?” he asked with an eyebrow raised, looking as if you had just wasted his time. You never felt so much anger and embarrassment both at the same time. “Okay then,” he shrugged, taking your lack of responses as a 'no' and walking past you.

You scoffed. You weren’t really confrontational as a person but the way this all spun was really bothering you more than you wanted to admit — like a nagging sensation at the back of your neck. The way he acted was almost as if you had done something wrong. But what? You thought to yourself. Suddenly Sunoo’s question and your memory lapse rang in your mind.

“Wait-" you called out, “Did something happen that night?”

You can see him heaving a huge sigh before turning around to answer you, “Unless you mistook or misunderstood something, nothing happened. We finished our work and you went home alone. I didn’t bother sending you. That’s it. You didn’t expect-”

“I don’t. I just-“

“Look, this happens all the time,” Sunghoon said icily, biting his lower lip in annoyance as he took a few steps towards you, “I show any slight attention and people just mistake it as interest, expecting it to bloom into something,” the corner of his lips lifted into a conceited grin, “don’t tell me the Great Wall is buckling too? Let me spell it out to you then —“

“Park Sunghoon,” you cut him off, the anger starting to rise within, “let me spell it out to you because you seem to be blind with narcissism and conceit. I have my suspicions about you from the very start — that you were attempting to toy me around, for whatever reasons. I guess it must have failed since you are mistaking any slight cordiality from me now for attraction when I am just passing on the message and being nice to you for old time's sake. Get off your high horse.”

With that you turned on your heel and walked away, the anger growing with every step you took, the crumpled paper in your grasp being the only evidence of it. That being said, you couldn't help but shake the feeling of familiarity of it all — the way your words rolled so effortlessly out your mouth made it feel as if you had spoken something similar before. But that’s impossible, you thought, no one would have riled you up so much to the point where you had to deliver such a scathing remark.

Most importantly, even if someone had, you should have remembered it.

iv: entanglement

It was not supposed to drag on this long and this deep, Sunghoon thought to himself as he watched you over from their hangout room on the 5th floor of the North Wing. You were sitting by the fountain, rambling animatedly to your ‘guard dog’, making big gestures in between coffee sips while occasionally doubling-over in a fit of laughter with him. Sunghoon hated how he knew exactly what coffee you had ordered and how he could hear your laughter clearly in his mind as if he was right there next to you.

Despite the crowds forming and dispersing around you, his eyes have not left you for even a fraction of a second and if looks could kill, you'd have long been dead. Most frustrating of all to him was how with every smile you flashed, he could feel his heart raced and throbbed — though he wasn’t certain if it had been due to attraction or annoyance because both had indeed been what he had been feeling towards you as of late.

Sunghoon has always been at the top of things. That is, until you came along and become a prominent part of his daily life since the start of the project. While he may have orchestrated the whole thing to turn the way it did: for you to become partners with him; for him to save you; for you to spend inordinate amount of time alone with him; and so on — you were unexpectedly like a force of nature, somehow managing to hold on your own and throw everything into disarray. It always left him feeling so confused, vexed and intrigued — conflicting emotions of which he hadn't felt in a long time — always making him torn over his next moves as he could never know if he wanted you or if he wanted to end you.

He exhaled sharply as he turned around, leaning against the large stained windows and recounting the events from that night. He didn't really plan on biting you that night but everything was indeed unfolding perfectly: you were alone with him, in his own house, with your guards down. For someone like you, who to him, has been unnecessarily a handful to deal with compared to his other victims — this was perfect as he could just quickly and cleanly sink his fangs into you and then have your body disposed somewhere. That was how simple he pictured it to be when he first set sights on you, visions red with contempt. But little did he know, in spending too much time trying to orchestrate everything perfectly from the beginning just to get back at you in the worst way possible, he was getting caught in the intricate web that he himself had spun for you.

And that night, things definitely went awry. Or rather, I went awry, he corrected himself as he threw his head back against the stained windows, suddenly reminded of the way his lips locked with yours in a drunken stupor.

The thing about Park Sunghoon is that he does not kiss — not initiating it, at least. After all, the guy love mind games and power. He relishes in the way people get so easily enchanted and manipulated by him, eventually buckling into submission without him having to lift a finger, begging for him no matter the cost. It was such a pathetic yet satisfying sight, he always thought, the way they beg for him not realising that they were basically begging for their death. Besides, as he always told Jay and Jake, both of whom never tire from indulging in such carnal pleasures, he was getting too old to be beating around the bush so he’d just cut the bullshit and go straight for the neck. As if you’re any older than us, Jake would mock.

That is not to say he would reject it completely though. His being aren’t completely deprived of carnal desires so when someone does initiate it, he wouldn't protest nor reject it, letting himself just enjoy it, treating it like an appetiser before the main course. Though again, unlike Jay and Jake, he wouldn’t drag it on. 

That is, until you happened. You were supposed to be just another pawn — something to fuel his desire for mind games and power. Instead however, you were able to hold on your own, engaging him so effortlessly in a field that he had always trounced in, keeping him on edge and making him wanting more. He found himself obsessed with you and he sought to entrap you further in his games but little did he know that in digging a trench so deep for you to fall into, he himself might end up getting stuck in it. He can now see just how far he had miscalculated his steps and underestimated you, for when the opportunity to get back at you, like he always wanted, materialised that night, he did the stupidest thing he could have ever done — he went for your lips.

The moment his lips enveloped yours, he completely lost all sense and rationality. Like on a drunken stupor, he was so intoxicated by the softness of your lips, the warmth emanating from your body, and the way you struggled against him — it was sickly electrifying and intoxicating and as if karma was getting back at him, he remembered feeling how he was the one getting lulled this time. Then there was the smell and taste of your blood on your lips that sent him delirious but somehow, instead of triggering his predatory feeding mode, it fuelled his hunger for something else.

He remembered then hungrily pressing his lips onto yours, his hands roaming up your body, making you gasp, providing him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss, as he slipped his tongue in. He remembered how the harder you protested and rejected him, the more it riled him up, finding himself trailing sloppy kisses down your neck — something he’d hardly have to nor want to do to another human. As he grabbed a fistful of your shirt, tugging it just slightly just off your shoulder, he could feel the desire to sink his fangs into you morphing into something different: it was no longer just to simply satisfy his thirst and get back at you — he wanted to mark you; to own you. That was probably why he was able to stop himself from depriving you completely off of your life source that night despite how much you had riled him — because it wasn’t just hunger alone.  

He could feel his throat now constricting and his gums tingling — an indication of the hunger rising within and his canines extending into its full length — as the memory reawaken his thirst for your blood, for your lips, for you in its entirety. “Fuck,” he cussed breathily, burying his face in his palm, suddenly seeing red again. He hated the hold you seemingly have on him. He had been all over the place the past few weeks trying to prove otherwise: meeting other girls; drinking other blood; and most importantly, avoiding and being an arse towards you. He was afterall, no slave to emotions nor desires — he could overcome this easily, he thought to himself. Yet, here he was, tormented from just mere memories of you. Oh, he wanted you so bad.

“You have got to nip this in the bud,” he suddenly remembered Heeseung cautioning him one night, “otherwise, it will grow into an Achilles Heel Sunghoon.”

He turned back around, dizzy, as he propped his hand against the window, letting his head rest against it as his eyes, which were growing luminescent by the second, zeroed in on you. "I shouldn't have let you live..." Sunghoon breathed, feeling the gravity of Heeseung's words.

v: minefield

With cases rising and no leads, your campus had started to impose a curfew, threatening punishments for those found to be out and about in campus grounds beyond 8 PM. Though you found the newly-imposed curfew ridiculous, given how there had been no cases in campus, you still abide it nevertheless. Except for tonight that is, as you had left your iPad at Sunoo’s club room. Since it had all the important notes from today’s lecture for an upcoming pop quiz, you decided to risk it — breaking into the South Wing and quickly retrieving it before the Student Union members, who would’ve usually be out patrolling by then, could catch you. 

Having quickly retrieved your iPad, your were just about to climb out the window which you had used earlier when you heard a bloodcurdling scream from the upper floors, followed by what sounded like furnitures getting knocked over. For any normal person, that should have been the queue to run off. But then again, you had always been an outlier with a sense of curiousity and fearlessness that is bound to get you into trouble one day — at least that was what Sunoo had always said about you.

“Screw it,” you muttered to yourself, walking away from the window towards the staircase. As you climbed up, you can start to hear the cacophony of noises more clearly: scuffles; furnitures dragged; and some sort whimper or cry. Then it all stopped and suddenly, all the courage left you. In the dark and stillness of the night, all you could hear was your quickening heartbeat and all you could see was either empty corridors with your own reflection on the windows.

You backed away, feeling deeply unsettled by the sudden stillness when suddenly, before you could descend down the stairs to go back, you felt yourself getting yanked back by a bony arm that has wrapped itself around your neck, putting you on a chokehold. You thrashed wildly, clawing on the person's arm, as your croaked, "le-let me go-go. I will scre-scream. There are people down the-there—"

You could hear the person scoff, seeing through your lie easily. You feel the person's other hand coming up to your head, stroking your hair tauntingly, while whispering menacingly close to your ears, “dead people can’t scream though.”

The next thing you knew, you had been pushed down the stairs, tumbling down several flights of stairs, twisting your hand in the process and hitting your head a few times against either the cold ground or the foot of the railing, before coming to a stop by the next landing. You groaned in pain as the back of your head hit the hard cement. Despite the pain, you forced yourself to sit up, panicking as the figure walked down the stairs at a glacial pace. Silhouetted, you can see that the person was a lanky man, with rather wide, yet bony shoulders. Terror-stricken, you were ready to take off again but to your horror, you couldn't feel your legs. You looked back up, horrified, when the man's lower face got momentarily illuminated as he passed by a window, his thin lips curving into a wry, malevolant grin, his tongue then making a quick slow swipe over his bloodied lips. You were immediately reminded of your nightmare.

You mustered every bit of strength left to back away, powering through the pain through gritted teeth but it was futile as he soon loomed over your body. Grabbing a fistful of your collar, he dragged you towards the end of the landing, letting you hover over the next flight of stairs, giving you a slight swing before letting go. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

It never came.

You felt nothing and saw nothing for a prolonged period of time, before it all suddenly warp into a convoluted mess of dreams, nightmares and bad memories — like an acid trip — then abruptly ending when your eyes flew open.

Still in an almost fight and flight state from both the experience and the dream, you immediately sat bolt upright — panicking as you looked around the room, thinking you were still at the mercy of the murderous man. Instead of the darkness however, the room you were in was so brightly-lit and brightly-painted. Instead of the cold hard tile underneath you, you were sitting on a soft white bed. Instead of a murderous man holding you by the collar, Lee Heeseung, the Student Union President, was the one next to you, eyes lit up in relief as he exclaimed, “Finally! You’re awake!”

You stared at him blankly, confused. Is this a dream, you ruminated, was last night a dream?. After all, the Student Union President, who is also part of Sunghoon’s clique, would be the last person you would ever expect to be by your bedside.

“Where am I- why are y-" you stuttered, trying to fight through the pain that you felt all over. Heeseung quickly reached over, gently grasping both of your shoulders to prevent you from toppling over, “careful, you took a really hard tumble—"

Instinctively, you recoiled away from his touch, still traumatised over whatever you had experienced earlier. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I didn’t mean to - you just, you look like you were about to faint...”

You swallowed thickly, still eyeing him in suspicion, “what... what happened?”

“Well, we were patrolling and found you passed out cold at the base of the stairs,” he answered, his gaze remaining soft as if trying to reassure you that he meant no harm and that you are safe now, “brought you here immediately. Thankfully, the doctor said you suffered no major injuries, just a lot of bruises, a twisted wrist, and a small cut by the side of your head. You might have knocked it against the railing or something. But fortunately, they’re just some superficial cuts. Not sure how lon-“

“the girl —" you interjected as the memories from just now, or last night, or whenever the incident actually was, came rushing through, “what about the girl?”

Heeseung stared blankly at you, “what girl? you were alone.”

“No I wasn’t,” you replied adamantly, “there— there should have been someone else-"

"There were no one else, we-"

"No, there was a girl somewhere in the building. She- she screamed! I heard it!" you protested, "I followed the voice and then suddenly," you croaked, losing your voice, "suddenly there was this man and he-" you swallowed thickly, struggling, as your head begin to spin, "he pushed- he pushed me!"

"y/n, but there-"

"No listen, he pushed me!" you insisted, looking up at Heeseung, almost pleading, "I didn't tumble down. I was pushed. He- ouch-"

“Hey hey, take it easy,” Heeseung quickly rose up, looking worried as he beckoned you to lay back. You shook your head, insistent, "there should be someone else. Maybe he ran way and— and maybe he took her with him. Did you guys ev- "

"Look y/n, you did hit your head so maybe-"

“Are you seriously suggesting that my mind is playing tricks on me?” you scoffed, your tone more aggressive than you had intended, “just because I hit my head?”

"Look y/n, the fact is that we found you alone. I promise you, we scoured the whole building, the compound, the adjacent wings and even the nearby woods — no one was out there except for the ones patrolling and you," Heeseung sighed, rubbing his forehead before exhaling sharply, looking stern, "and frankly, no one should. It was curfew hours. You, of all people, should know the implication of it."

You opened your mouth, wanting to protest further but immediately stopped yourself as you now belatedly realised just how much trouble you are possibly in for being out during curfew hours. You sank back onto your propped pillows behind you, defeated.

"y/n... just rest up for now okay? I will keep you posted in case I uncovered anything that might relate to your sightings last night," Heeseung gave you a tight-lipped smile as he drew the cubicle curtains around your bed to lend you some privacy though he stopped short before closing it completely.

"y/n," he called out softly. When you looked up, the warm gaze and smile had disappeared as he cautioned, "I would advise you to not tell anyone about last night unless you want to get in trouble for loitering around during curfew hours. I covered for you last night saying that your body was freezing when I found you which meant you must have passed out before curfew hours. I can assure you however no one else, especially the staffs, would be as lenient if they knew the truth. Not even if you tell them about what you had allegedly see or hear, because without any physical evidence, it just sounds like excuses.”

With that he excused himself, leaving you alone, dejected and defeated, questioning your own memory, "what the hell is going on with me?"

vi: the lifesaver

Its been a few weeks and still, there had been no new updates about that night. No woman, no man, no body — just you, your memories and some fading bruises, which you’ve been diligently covering with turtlenecks and long sleeves. As days passed, the memory melded perfectly with your recurring nightmares, leaving you questioning your own memory and mind — all the while, the feeling of looming terror felt as if it was increasingly gnawing you from within, haunting you. Hence, you’ve sought solace in overworking yourself, staying cooped up in the library, head buried in books — all so you can distract yourself. 

Tonight however, your body was paying the price for having been overworking the past few days, pulling you into a deep sleep when you had only intended the nap to last for 15 minutes. You awoke, panic-stricken, seeing the floor you were on completely desolated. You quickly packed up, your mind on overdrive thinking of what excuses to give the guard or library staff when you pass them by in the lobby.

“Oh you’re awake?”

You screamed, backing against your table and knocking some books off the edge. It's been weeks, but you were still skittish from your last incident. Fortunately, it wasn't yet another maniac. You recognised the vest he was wearing — it was the one that the library guards always wore. You immediately apologised, “Sorry, really - I thought-"

“No, no,” the man quickly rushed over, bending down to help you pick your books up, “I should be the one apologising since I was the one who startled you.”

“No, I’m the one here during curfew hours...“ you sighed, bending down to also pick the books up when it suddenly dawned on you who the man was, “Yang Jungwon?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded excitedly, “for a second there I thought you had completely forgotten about me. Wouldn’t blame you though, I was gone for a long time.”

“Of course I remember you!” you assured him, “It’s just that… your hair. It’s black now. The red hair was pretty much your signature, wasn't it? it earned you that nickname 'The Flaming Tiger the Taekwando Club', right?"

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, “yeah, I dyed it back to black. Kind of preferring to keep a low profile now.”

“Well, I mean, with all the medals you’ve raked especially after you have gotten out of the hospital, I’m pretty sure you don't need the red hair to make yourself memorable in the Taekwando scene any more,” you concurred, “You’re really amazing you know that? Kicking back stronger after like a 3-week hospitalisation — how is that even possible? And now you're like part-timing as a guard here too.”

"Well, I've been having a hard time sleeping at night so part-timing during graveyard hours actually keeps me sane —anyway enough about me," Jungwon diverted, leaning against your table, "I heard so much about you as well. Heard you got straight A's last semester and is now co-authoring a paper with one of the University's highly-cited professor — come on now, your achievements are more worth praising then mine."

"Oh please stop being humble. Also the A was for a joint assignment so it's not really—" you trailed off, "shoot — they're coming," you gasped, hurriedly packing up as you saw two Student Union members in the compound, making their way towards the library, "well, it was nice catching up with you Jungwon but it's curfew hours and I've got to run. Can you do me a favour and pretend you didn't see me? Thanks!"

“No wait,” he suddenly called out ,grabbing your wrist and stopping you in your tracks, "you’ll get caught if you head that way. Come with me, I know a better way.”

You took the offer almost immediately — trusting Jungwon, who then led you skilfully through a maze of corridors and stairs, explaining how there is a secret passage in the basement — a tunnel — which leads you straight out to the backstreet, "so not only could you evade the 'Cerberus Knock-Offs' of campus, aka the Student Patrols, but if they find you, they can't really do anything since you're technically 'outside' of the campus grounds."

"Wow, it's like THE Yang Jungwon has gone rouge — where did the old uptight and stickler Jungwon go?" you remarked sarcastically as he pushed the heavy door, revealing a brightly-lit yet eerie-looking tunnel.

"Gone with the old shell," Jungwon quipped as he turned around, beckoning you to follow him. You hesitantly did, cautiously looking around the narrow passageway — feeling increasingly unnerved by the stillness, remoteness and desolation of it all, "why does the university need a tunnel any way? I mean, have you heard of how certain sanatoriums would wheel bodies discretely through tunnels back then? what if the same is happening here?"

"Why would the university be wheeling bodies though?" Jungwon gave you a quick glance before tinkering with the locks of the door at the end of the tunnel.

"I'm not saying it's the university," you clarified, suddenly reminded of your incident and the lack of evidence, "but what if the serial killer that's on the loose in town right now made it to campus — these passageways would just help him finish half the job don't you think?"

"You've always been so smart and sharp," Jungwon muttered as he rose up, his body turned towards you as he placed his hand on the crash bar of the door, his eyes narrowing, "but you should be careful with the accusations though, the staffs here are incredibly sensitive to it, fearing that such rumours would incite panic and paranoia, potentially jeopardising the university's reputation."

"But I'm not accusing," you retorted, "I actually he-" you stopped short, reminded of Heeseung's warning.

"Just saying y/n, you don't want to fly too close to the sun for you will get burnt," Jungwon cautioned as he pushed the crash bar with his elbow, his eyes still on you. Your brows knit in confusion at his cryptic words which you couldn't discern whether is a warning to you, or an advice. You can also see now, underneath the harsh lighting of the tunnel, how it wasn't just the hair that made him look and feel different. Particularly, he was skinnier and paler than you last remembered which, together with his sharp feline eyes and arched brows, made him look more intimidating. Feeling the weight of his gaze, you cleared you throat, breaking the eye contact, "I-uh should probably leave now."

"I've ordered a cab for you by the way," he beamed as you slipped outside, "it should be by the bend."

"You shouldn't have- but thanks Jungwon, I owe you twice tonight," you waved at him, "stay safe."

"you should be careful and stay safe too y/n," he replied back, waving at you.

Though thankful for his help, throughout your journey back home, you couldn't help but feel like Jungwon was hiding something.

vii: an ultimatum

“Hey Sunoo, did you remember that one case—" you stopped mid-sentence as you looked up from your phone, realising belatedly that the figure you saw from your periphery vision as you entered the Press Society Club Room was not Sunoo. You knew who it was almost instantaneously though even when he had his back against you: the tall stature; broad shoulders; thick black hair; dark get-up and of course, the air of arrogance. It was none other than Park Sunghoon.

As if hearing his name just being said aloud in your mind, he turned around, lips already curved into a conceited grin as he gestured towards Sunoo's board, “you guys have some interesting collage right here.”

“You have no business being here,” you said curtly. 

Scoffing, he cocked his head in the direction of the photo studio, “nope, but he does.”

Just then, Heeseung emerged out of the studio, carrying a bunch of pictures. Trailing closely behind him, was Sunoo, fuming, “give them back! they are ours!"

“Not anymore," Heeseung sighed, handing the pictures to Sunghoon instead, who clicked his tongue tauntingly as he look through the pictures, “listen, I'm actually doing you guys a favour here. If anyone else finds out about these morbid collections, you and Ni-Ki could become suspects immediately. Trust me, in the absence of any convincing leads — they'd lap it up. Even if they don’t, you guys will still get into trouble, for intercepting and for potentially tempering the scene.”

“But they never went close to the scene!” you quickly defended.

“And who can vouch for that?” Sunghoon derided, looking amused.

"This could put the university's reputation in jeopardy so I am putting a stop to it," Heeseung said adamantly.

“If you really care about the campus and its people, you’d know how important our work and progress is,” Sunoo snapped.

“Look, just because you are able to take a bunch of grotesque pictures and connect them with strings against a map on a board doesn’t mean you guys are making any important discovery,” Sunghoon scoffed, looking down condescendingly at Sunoo, "Just stick to Cluedo, kids."

“What the fuck is your problem,” Sunoo exploded, grabbing Sunghoon by the collar, looking as if he was ready to throw punches. Sunoo had always been the personafication of sunshine and peace but right then you can see how riled up he was from the way he glowered at Sunghoon, the way his fist clenched hard and the way his voice dropped a few octaves lower. He seemed almost like a different person. You couldn't help but quickly rush over, grabbing his arm, fearing that he would really let emotions get the best of him, "Sunoo, don't—"

"Aww," Sunghoon mocked, straightening up the crumpled lapel of his blazer, before turning to you, "you should've let him punch me. It might relieve his anger."

"I'm not stupid to let him get easily framed like that. Not by the likes of you," you snapped back. Sunghoon scoffed, chuckling, "I know you're not. But your blockhead of a friend definitely is. Not so bad for a guard dog though — at least he isn't all bark and no bite. Shame that he has never been around to run to your aid when you need it the most."

Your brows knit in confusion at his words, somehow picking up something in the way he said it.

"Sunghoon, cut it out," Heeseung said authoritatively as he grabbed the main door open before turning his attention back to you and Sunoo, "I'll send someone to confiscate everything as discreetly as possible and turn a blind eye to this just this once but if I found out that you guys are meddling in this case again, or even loitering during curfew hours for whatever reason — I'll report you guys straight to the dean. This applies to you too, y/n — I've already let you go once, remember that."

With that, they excused themselves, and as soon as the door closed, Sunoo sunk onto a nearby couch. While he covered his face with his arm, you could tell he angry and dejected he was — his chest heaving in anger, ears red, "this is fucking unfair," he croaked.

You couldn't help but feel some sort of guilt in the matter. The suddenness of it all and the way Sunghoon seemed to specifically rile him felt rather personal. As if it was done simply out of spite to you not for whatever noble reason that Heeseung just sprouted. "I'll be back, okay?" you assured Sunoo before you ran out the door, frantically looking around to find Sunghoon. Thankfully he hadn't gone far, just by the bend of the corridor,

"Park Sunghoon!" you called out, marching towards him. Again, as if expecting you, he already had that distasteful smirk on his face.

“Look, if you have a problem with me, then you should take it out on me not on the people around me,” you argued, seething, “Sunoo doesn’t deserve this. He worked hard on it.”

“Didn’t we tell you that it was for the best?” he repeated flamboyantly, his grin getting wider with every step he took towards you, “the efforts you guys are putting in are useless anyway and even if, say, you guys somehow solved it — you think the authorities will believe you guys? if anything, you guys will get into trouble for potentially disrupting their work and the scene. Even if you guys actually don't temper around, they will make it seem as if you guys did just to discredit you guys. Because come on, otherwise, they'd become the punching bag of town: authorities beaten by a bunch of campus kids."

“Cut that bullshit Sunghoon, I'm pretty sure you'd rather see us scapegoated and humiliated," you retorted, "What exactly do you want from stopping this?"

"Do you..." he drawled, taking slow steps towards you, biting his lips to suppress the grin that was blooming on his lips, " really want to know what I want?". You opened your mouth, ready to protest, but find yourself frozen as he brought his hand up to your neck, his cold fingers grazing the spot where your scar was. Your brows knit in confusion at his sudden touch — the familiarity of which was threatening to evoke something in your mind. It felt like those moments when you stopped short in doing whatever you were doing because a sensation reminded you of certain memory or a dream. You could feel your mind going on overdrive as it raked through you mind palace for a specific memory but failing, making you feel more disgruntled at the mystery of it all. As if noticing the effect he had on you internally, the corner of his lips tip up, forming a devilish grin, "you left your scarf didn't you? well, since your scar is healing pretty fast, I doubt you'd need it anymore—"

Alarmed at how he noticed the scar which you had so diligently covered all these while, you snapped out of it, shoving his hand away, "how did- mind your own business Sunghoon."

"you should be the one minding your own business y/n," he muttered icily, the smile faltering as he took steps closer towards you, his gaze darkening, "stop knocking on death's door, you're not invincible, just lucky. With your predisposition towards danger however, you're going to run out of them soon."

"What's it to you?" you remarked sarcastically, "thought we're strangers."

He bit lower lips as if restraining the smirk that was blooming on his lips, "you'd wish we were."

The next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s gaze darkened and almost instantaneously, you could feel your heart sink, as if knowing exactly what would follow. Within split seconds, he had cupped your face, his thumb caressing your lips, eyes boring into yours, the intensity searing. “Sunghoon, what are yo-“ you protested, palming his chest, trying to push him off, but it all somehow evoked a strong feeling of familiarity, just like earlier. Except, it had gotten too intense that you find yourself immobilised. All of a sudden, your vision went haywire, fading back and forth between reality and fragments of yourself in a similar setting – it was as if your hallucinations or nightmares were being superimposed into reality. The Sunghoon before you kept on fading into someone else — someone you couldn't properly identify as that man pressed his lips onto yours, devouring it with so much ferocity and hunger, that you find yourself struggling for air. When you were finally able to wedge a space in between, to your horror, it was Sunghoon all along. His tongue making a quick swipe over his lipstick-stained lips, eyes glazed with lust. Within split seconds, he was dipping his head closer to yours again, seeking to reattach his lips to yours. "No- get off!" you protested, blindly hitting him. When he caught your hands in his, the whole scene revert to normal, to the Sunghoon that was caressing your lips at the campus corridor.

You stared at him in a mix of horror and disbelief, disoriented and dizzy. Feeling your self-awareness and will back, you quickly shoved him away. "What was-" you panted, stammering, "that? what was that? what did you do?"

"What was what?" he smirked, backing away at a glacial pace, "I didn't even do anything. You're the one who froze up on me." Just like that, he just turned around and walked away, leaving you rooted on spot, still at loss. It all felt so vivid just now — like remembering a dream or a nightmare but instead of it simply being confined in your mind, it was superimposed into reality, taking over visually and emotionally, rendering you completely struck and helpless.

"y/n!"

You suddenly feel yourself wheeled around, it was Sunoo, looking concerned, "why aren't you responding? I was getting worried since you were gone for too lo-" he paused, noticing how pale you've became, your hands trembling, "hey, are you okay? did he do something to you?"

"Sunoo..." you muttered weakly, forlorn, "I think... I think something is wrong with me."

► Part 003

A/N: Hello everyone! thank you for reading hehe. In case the ending stumps you, fret not, there is a continuation to this. It was getting longer and I thought it would more coherent for it to be ended right here, the rest saved for the next part. That would also be more efficient for me too because as someone who is too perfectionist to a fault, the proofreading bit is taking almost as much effort and time as the initial drafting. Apologies if there are any incoherence and errors. English is after all not my first language. With that said, I hope you like this one as much as the 1st part and hope you'll still stick around for part #003 of Dancing with the Devil — I can assure you that there would be more revelations and more things developing there ;)

Taglist: @axartia | @my5colors | @elinushka-ka ((sorry if I missed out anyone!))

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against the world

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 🧎‍♀️

𝗛𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 | hyung line pj

enhypen hyung line as angst love tropes.

GENRE: angst, heartbreak, sadness, crying (in general, they’re all sad oneshots).

a/n: this is a master list for my new project called “hundred broken hearts”. all the fics are on progress, some more than others, so i’m asking you to be patient and to please COMMENT & REBLOG to share. thank you 🩷

𝗙𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (l.hs)

right person, wrong time.

PAIRING: idol!heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: when you were a child, you had always believed your life was a fairytale, but as you grew up you realised it was just a childish thought. because your story didn’t end with happily ever after.

WARNINGS: heartbreak, break up, heeseung barely has time for reader, he’s a little in denial, reader tries to be strong for the both of them, angst, more to be added.

PUBLISHED: soon.

WC: 2.4k for now.

TAGLIST: open.

NOW PLAYING: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star

𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗨𝗦 (p.js)

forbidden love

PAIRING: goldenboy!jay x rival!reader (f)

SUMMARY: you wished you could frame time when you bickered about grades and assignments, not when the reality of the situation made it impossible for you to be together. because even in the quiet of your heartbreak, one truth remained, you would never stop loving him.

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety attacks, rivalry in high school, they come from different worlds, break up, angst, crying, more to be added.

PUBLISHED: soon.

WC: 2k for now.

TAGLIST: open.

NOW PLAYING: What About Us by P!nk

𝗬𝗢𝗨’𝗥𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗘 (s.jy)

unrequited love (but is it really?)

PAIRING: bestfriend!jake x reader (f)

SUMMARY: you’d loved him quietly for so long, it felt like a part of who you were. but love, when unspoken, had a way of festering. it filled the silences, lingered in the spaces between you, and left you questioning everything.

WARNINGS: heartbreak, too little communication (barely one at all), reader watches from afar, jake is kinda a f boy (but make it romantically, lol), if only they confessed they’d be happy, more to be added.

PUBLISHED: soon.

WC: 1k for now.

TAGLIST: open.

𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (p.sh)

falling out of love

PAIRING: sunghoon x reader (f)

SUMMARY: you used to think love was unshakable, that once you had it, it would always be enough. but with sunghoon, you realized love faded slowly, like a photograph left too long in the sun.

WARNINGS: established relationship, angst, break up, sunghoon doesn’t love reader anymore, more to be added.

PUBLISHED: soon.

WC: 1.3k for now.

TAGLIST: open.

NOW PLAYING: enough for you by Olivia Rodrigo

(permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle

pls make a jay “bro she’s busy” text au like hoons😭 IM SO IN LOVEEE

bro she’s busy

- jay texts

enhypen texts masterlist

absolutely I can 🤭 thanku for requesting bffie!!

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