[ 7:31 PM. ] ✿⠀، ── Left 𝒰mbrella * . ࣪ ⭑

[ 7:31 PM. ] ✿⠀، ── left 𝒰mbrella * . ࣪ ⭑

:¨·.·¨: w: none 🌥⠀⋆ ࣪ .

`·..·ˊ g: in the rain ! p: stranger!sh x f.reader

fuck.

it was rain season; which meant you now had to go home everyday drenched.

it’s not that you didn’t care, but you cursed under your breath for not checking the weather properly, exiting the school entrance only to be greeted with the claps of roaring thunder. god, you wanted to go home.

that’s why you proceeded to stay beneath the support of the building’s roof, deciding whether or not you should run home or just wait it out. but in hopes of the rain vanishing, all it did was the complete opposite.

appear even more.

a long sigh then escapes your lips, unable to figure the perfect time for take off. And while preparing yourself, you were just a second away from leaving—

right until a man stops you.

“excuse me?” a strong, deep voice calls to you, making you whirl around.

“—hm?” you hummed, immediately following the sound into shifting your attention to the found figure beside you.

a tall, black haired boy hovers over your view, instantly causing you to still in your footsteps due to the unfamiliar presence. you never expected anyone to show up at this hour.

especially an…

attractive person.

not that you haven’t grown suspicious of it, but needless to say, you didn’t care if you were going to head home late tonight just because of this.

and in the sense of romance, something told you to stay.

“could you hold this for a second?” sunghoon innocently asks you with the gesture of his umbrella. “I need to grab something real quick.” he dryly chuckles.

but the spark of pure happiness within you shatters in an instant, the assumption of you both in a love story exploding to bits.

“oh…s-sure!” you awkwardly smiled, hesitantly grabbing the handle off the palm of his hands.

“thanks.” grinned the other.

he began removing the strap of his backpack and unzipping it, fetching one of his notebooks to hold in his arms. that same process continued as you watched him pull the bag over his shoulder once more, ready to return his umbrella.

but before you were even given the chance to, sunghoon’s figure disappears in seconds the moment he starts dashing down the stairs, leaving you and his belonging goodbye.

“what? I—WAIT!” you shout, about to draw a hand but immediately pull back out of instinct.

wait a second.

you began to ponder, knowing one wouldn’t be this stupid enough to forget a belonging they’ve clearly asked for someone to hold.

especially since it was raining outside.

that’s kinda stupid.

but?

“oh my god.”

you suddenly felt your cheeks getting heated by the minute, lips agape, and eyes widening with surprise.

what was the realization, you may ask?

“he….did this on purpose.”

permlist: @certainyouthpeanut @enhacolor @wtfhyuck @szniki @hiqhkey <3 @lvepsh <3 @boobies34567 @w3bqrl @tzyuki

Guerrilla

serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader

he is a serial killer with morals okay almost a vigilante

dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.

genres and warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, violence warnings, atz as doctors cameos, some gory descriptions, twisted morals, past trauma, questionable stuff honestly esp yunho's intrusive thoughts, read at your own risk.

word count: ~27k

synopsis: you're a crime fiction writer and you move in with dr. jeong yunho despite his strange, strict house rules. he's very private and you don't mind that, but he's also very cold and unapproachable and you're determined to crack through his walls. little did you know your obsession with gore and crime would melt his heart. Soon, you find yourself tangled in lies, secrets and a detective from your past who suspects yunho and his gang as you navigate thru your relationship with him.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (i had a dream. we talked about it and this happened-)

“You know, if you could just help me bring my bags inside instead of staring at me like I’m about to commit a homicide, maybe you wouldn’t have to complain about the noise and not being able to focus on… whatever the heck you wanted to do.”

Yunho blinked. Was he hearing you right? When you cocked your head waiting for a response, he licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’m just worried about the amount of bags you’ve brought at this hour of night.”

The ungodly hours after midnight. You tucked your hair behind your ears before dragging one of the heavier bags to your room, the floorboard creaking unceremoniously. You heard the groan of your house owner who finally got up after a solid ten minutes of judging you and went to the porch to pick up a bag-

And almost fell on his knees.

“What the fuck did you put in here?”

“What do you think?” You asked, throwing the bag in your room and going to the porch, snatching the bag and dragging it yourself.

“A body?”

“Or two,” you muttered under your breath and again, Yunho thought he was hearing things. “It’s just my books. I thought I mentioned in the form that I’m an aspiring writer and would be coped up in my room reading or writing most hours of the day. I really won’t bother you much, just help me get my bags inside before the rain gets any worse. I don’t want my books getting ruined.”

Begrudgingly, Yunho obeyed, dragging two bags at once just to show you he wasn’t weak. You, however, did not bat an eye, much to his annoyance. After bringing in the last bags, he stood in your room looking around.

“I’m not sure this room is big enough for your books…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve lived in smaller rooms with more books,” you finally cracked a smile. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Jeong. I thought you’re usually doing night shifts?”

“I had a day off today and planned to sleep, but unfortunately, you disturbed my sleep.”

“You’re welcome,” you weren’t going to let him damper the mood. “Since you’re awake now, might as well tell me any rules about the house so I can finally go fix up a meal for myself. And an apology meal for you, though, as the owner of this house, you should be in the kitchen fixing something for your newly arrived housemate. But… I won’t complain.”

Yunho folded his arms, considering you. There was something about you that didn’t make him want to kill you in the most painful way, which was odd for him. He recalled the last time someone moved in with him and he almost dissected him alive. “Nice to meet you too, y/n. I’m trusting you read the rules before you decided to move in?”

“‘Minimal noise especially during the day, no intervening in each other’s business, an absolute no to bringing over people even if they are your family- if you have to, on a three-days notice, and… no getting to know each other. The workshop in the garage and the upper floor is off-limits.’ I believe I got them right?”

“You have an exceptional memory,” Yunho was impressed for once. “Why did you move here?”

“I’m sure you read my response in your form too, but to put it simply, I can’t afford a nicer place, though I’m curious why a doctor is living in such a dodgy little house in a shady town-”

“I, too, need to make ends meet,” Yunho explained even though he could have easily ignored your question. “Circumstances. Besides, I get a whole house instead of a cramped apartment in the city, and my workplace is close.”

“I know! Cramped apartments are suffocating. Even though I’ll only own a room here and share the floor, at least it’s a… house.”

Yunho nodded. “I’ll give you three days to settle down and break any rules except the ones mentioned in the form. Now, I understand that you can cook?”

“Always been a good cook,” you said proudly.

“We can share the kitchen expenses and if you cook enough for the both of us, I can take 40 percent off your rent. Fair offer, isn’t it?”

“Peculiar is what it is,” you told him. “But I won’t question you. If I have to cook, might as well for the both of us. Saves me money in the long run, and I need to save every penny I can.”

“Right. There are a few cabinets locked in the kitchen, please don’t try to open them. I can’t think of any other rules right now, but try to keep it down, will you? And again, the upper floor is absolutely off-limits.”

“Got it,” you nodded. “Let me know your usual schedule so I don’t think there’s a serial killer entering my apartment in the middle of the night.”

Once again, Yunho had to stop himself from twitching in surprise. “What’s your obsession with serial killers and murders? You’ve mentioned them numerous times in the past half an hour.”

“I think the rules go both ways, Dr. Jeong Yunho,” you smiled teasingly, opening one of the bags and taking a deep breath at the amount of books in it. “But if you have to know… my genres are crime fiction and mystery. I hope I don’t scare you away, especially if I ask you something odd about human anatomy.”

Yunho almost gaped at you before shaking his head and exiting your room, absolutely unnerved by you in a mere half an hour. It was crazy- usually, he was the one making people feel alarmed or discomposed, but you were an odd one for sure. However, as with every past housemate, he was sure you were going to get on his nerves and he would have to either bury your bones in the backyard- consequently breaking the ‘code’- or plan something elaborate and chase you out.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to be a pleasant person to share the house with. But when he opened the door at about 1am to a distraught looking girl that didn’t even reach his shoulders carrying six bags, some bigger than her… he wondered if he should kick you right out and remove the ad he had put in on a few websites looking for a ‘peaceful’ housemate. He was sure you must have some thoughts about him too- he wasn’t the most welcoming person and people would eventually get curious about his closed-off personality and start snooping around.

For now, Yunho peeked into your room from the stairs- you had your hands on your hips and were assessing the room, probably planning how you could fit everything in there. He checked the time- he needed to leave soon. Praying silently that you would just fall asleep or something instead of snooping around, he went to his room to get ready.

You, though, had no plans to sleep tonight. You needed to set your room and get some sleep so you could meet the deadline of your draft that was due this weekend- only three days away. You assessed the space in the room again- if you could move the bed to the corner, you could place your computer table and chair there which would be arriving in the morning. You could line the books along the rest of the walls on the floor. You didn’t need any fancy shelves. Thankfully, this room had its own closet so you wouldn’t need to worry about where to fit your clothes.

You exited the room into the living room space, wanting to get the bearings of this house. The toilet was right in front of your room and one of the reasons you moved into this dodgy house was that it was… a good house. A toilet all to yourself was a blessing, and upon checking it looked clean.

The living room wasn’t too big but it looked cosy. You noticed a lack of personal belongings and decided to add a few potted plants on the windows soon. There was no TV but you had a projector and if you moved the couch, you could have a whole plain wall which was perfect to watch dramas when Yunho would be away. The kitchen space was at the opposite end with a large countertop in between and it looked like Yunho had most of the kitchen appliances already.

And at the end where the main door was, there were stairs leading up to the doctor’s space. Off-limits. You wondered why he was so uptight but you figured that as long as he was letting you live almost for free in return for home-cooked meals and maintaining the house, you could tolerate him. It was strange if you thought about it but you didn’t have the luxury to overthink right now.

You finally had a place- better than an apartment, yet something you could afford. You found yourself smiling. You just need to meet your deadlines now and hopefully publish your book by the end of the year- before the publishers change their mind.

But first… coffee.

You went to your room to get the bottle of your favourite coffee blend, which was really a mixture from a few different brands that you had come up with after years of experimentation. You set two cups on the counter and checked the fridge for milk. You weren’t sure about the doctor’s preferences so you made a simple latte like your own. You were just finishing up when you heard the dull footsteps of him descending the stairs.

“I made coffee…” you trailed off- now that he was in a white button down and black slacks with his hair styled, it finally settled in.

Doctor Jeong Yunho was pretty damn attractive.

“Uh…” he looked around awkwardly before grabbing the mug and taking a sip, raising his brows in surprise. “This… is actually pretty good.”

You grinned. “My own blend.”

He made an impressed face and you took that opportunity to ask. “You don’t mind if I make a few changes to this floor, right? Nothing major, just a few plants here and there, maybe get a chair or two, move the furniture around to make space for the projector?”

“Isn’t it too early for that?” Yunho frowned. “I might kick you out before that. Or you might end up leaving-”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you dismissed. “What I mean is, I’m staying out of your way so you would have no reason to kick me out because I really, really cannot get a better deal than I got with you.”

“Sure, then,” he finished his coffee. “Do whatever you like as long as you stick to the rules. I’ll be on my way then.”

You relaxed, mind already buzzing with ideas as you headed towards your room to fix your draft.

—-------------------------------

The trial period Yunho had given you was over and you were now seated in the kitchen with your third cup of coffee since midnight, awaiting your judgement.

Really, you were telling yourself that you shouldn’t worry. If you had to be your own judge, you had done a spectacular job of staying out of the doctor’s way except when unavoidable- which was usually right before he left for work around midnight when you would both eat dinner, or his usual shift in the later hours of morning. He insisted that he was fine eating alone and you didn’t have to wait for him to eat your own dinner, and yes, he sounded like he could be anywhere but there, but you told him that if you were cooking for him, you’d rather he eat at least one meal with you. For what reason, you didn’t give and he didn’t ask.

You didn’t give because you may be a self-proclaimed good cook but you were also someone who was sensitive. And that meant that if Yunho didn’t like something you cooked, you would be ready to take constructive criticism and improve.

And he didn’t ask because he could see that you were a sensitive one. He knew the moment he told you off for filling the house with potted plants within one day and you almost teared up asking if he didn’t like the signs of life around the house. He actually almost laughed at that but when he realised you were serious, he told you he wouldn’t take care of the plants. You told him you wouldn’t expect him to because the plants were ‘your babies’ and had moved two houses with you already.

So yes, you stayed out of his way. You cooked for him. You cleaned the house quite a bit- so much that Yunho almost didn’t recognise his own porch because of how different it looked in the span of a few hours that he was absent from the house. He made a point of telling you right after that your trial period wasn’t up, and you made a point of retorting with how you were just waiting for him to give in, to which you earned a scowl. By now, you knew that the doctor was not very friendly- at least not immediately. You wondered if that was the reason why he had troubles with his past housemates.

When you heard the sound of keys jingling and the door unlocking, you straightened and started heating up the dinner- you kept it traditional today- rice, beef and a lot of side dishes. Perhaps, it was your last attempt to win him over, and your heart was beating loudly with anticipation. You never waited for him to come home and share a meal in the early hours of morning but today, you made an exception. You turned around to greet him-

Finding his clothes stained with what had to be blood. His hair was all messed up as well and he had a bruise on his cheek. You exhaled. “Looks like somebody had a long night shift.”

“What are you doing this early in the morning?” He took off his shoes that you noticed were quite muddy. It hadn’t rained in a few days so you briefly wondered where he had been, but you shook your head.

No questions asked. That was the rule.

“Prepared breakfast? For you,” you scratched your suddenly itchy neck. “For obvious reasons. Last attempt to bribe you before you announce your decision.”

Yunho scanned you for a few moments before he said, “I should change first.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “I’ll set the table in the meantime.”

Yunho nodded and went upstairs, going to the room at the end of the hallway and dumping his shirt and trousers in the washing machine, turning it on. He needed to get rid of the blood as soon as possible and detergent wouldn’t be enough so he grabbed a soap and rubbed the stains on his shirt for good measure- now, the clothes would wash themselves.

It was almost a mechanical routine now, he scoffed at how his hands worked on their own now. He went to his room, unlocking it and changing into sweats. Usually, he didn’t eat much before sleeping- after all, due to his night shifts, he slept for most hours of the day and breakfast wasn’t something he cared about, but the smell of beef was making his stomach rumble. He figured he could make an exception today.

By the time he joined you at the table, there were a variety of dishes in front of him and he raised a brow at you. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Of course I would,” you shrugged. “But I’ll be honest. I got most of these side dishes as a gift from one of my friends from work.”

Yunho nodded, thanking you for the meal and eating silently, waiting and waiting but you never asked him about his bloody clothes. Did you dismiss it because you thought it might be from a patient? Or because you simply didn’t care? Was he lucky then, having found you as his housemate? Because one of the qualities he needed in his housemate that he simply couldn’t have stated in the form was a lack of curiosity or inquisitiveness. It was different than being nosy- he could deal with nosy but not someone who would overstep their boundaries because they were curious.

It was why he was apprehensive of you at first. You were a writer. Writers had to be curious and inquisitive, and you were. He knew you were only beginning right now, but the few occasions you had been curious, he was thrown off. And for the right reasons-

“As a doctor, do you think it’s more painful to bleed to death or to drown?”

“As a doctor… do you think a sharp pencil stab to the jugular vein could be fatal?”

That was really all you ever asked him. His opinion as a doctor. You asked with such simplicity that he couldn’t help but stop whatever he was doing and really think about the answer-

“I personally think it’s more painful to drown. The water burns you from the inside. Bleeding to death… you stop feeling things at a certain point and it gets easier from there.”

“Well, it depends on the location of the stab but I reckon if it’s around the base of the neck, it could be fatal. But it would have to be embedded quite deep, and then extracted so a person can bleed to death. If it stays in, there’s no point.”

And his answers would earn him your satisfaction and suddenly, you would be muttering to yourself and going for your room, probably to note it down. He had done his research there too- if he was going to have you as his housemate, he needed to do a background check on you. He didn’t find anything odd in your socials- you tended to stay anonymous and most of your blogs were writing-focused. And when he snooped in your room while you were away grocery shopping, he only found various notes and books on crime and methods of serial killers. He was ashamed to admit he spent quite some time on that book and learned a lot.

So now, having finished the delicious breakfast (you really were a good cook) and finding you uninterested in his whereabouts and the aching bruise on his cheek, he finally cracked the first smile in three days.

“I’ll let you live if you take care of the house like you have been so far. And you really don’t need to wait for me during meals. The rules are still the same.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and laughed in relief. “Thank you. I’ll stick by the rules, and I’ll probably have dinner with you if I’m not busy- I don’t like eating alone, to be honest. You can pretend I’m not there if that’s what bothers you. Also…”

When Yunho urged you to continue, your shoulders relaxed in relief but your brows crunched in annoyance. “Do you have to bring your muddy shoes inside? I just cleaned.”

Yunho looked towards the doorway. “I can’t leave them out.”

“Well, I can’t have muddy shoes inside, so you’ll have to do something about it yourself or else I’ll be annoyed and have to clean them myself and you do not want me cleaning your shoes-”

“Okay,” Yunho waved a hand to shut you up. “I’ll take them off on the porch next time.”

“Good,” you folded your arms, considering him. “I think we’re good then.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that…”

“Well, now that we’ve settled everything, I hope you and I will get along,” you extended your hand and he warily shook it, aware of how small your hand was in his. “Now, since you’re a doctor, I must ask if you’ll take care of the loud bruise on your cheek before you sleep. We don’t want it looking worse than it already is.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured, and he couldn’t help but continue. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“I’ll admit that I’m curious, but I won’t break a rule- and I won’t be tricked into breaking one either,” you winked at him and once again, he found himself smiling. “I’ll just assume you had a bad day at work or a rough case. You must often get them as a… surgeon?”

He nodded and you started stacking the dishes. “You can go rest now. I’ve installed a clothesline in the backyard- I really wonder where you’ve been drying your clothes all this time, but I won’t ask. You should try hanging your clothes outside this time.”

For a moment, Yunho wondered if he should have kicked you out.

“I just have a question before you disappear,” you turned and he paused in his tracks, wondering if his stealth was worsening. “It’s an odd one, for my book, but… approximately how long would a healthy man suffer with a stab wound to this area-” you rubbed the left side of your stomach, “- given the weapon is an old 12-inch kitchen knife that’s been sharpened way too many times?”

For a moment, Yunho wondered if he had forgotten to lock the cabinet in the kitchen that contained all of his knives. “You’re uh… oddly specific.”

“I have to be,” you shrugged.

“Well…” Yunho rubbed his chin, thinking of all the patients and victims he had dealt with so far. “Can I sleep on it?”

—-----------------------

Your life was finally not falling apart, for once.

In fact, perhaps this was the calmest that things had been for a good few years now, you mused to yourself as you mopped the floor, your usual instrumental playlist on a considerable volume playing in the living room. Ever since you graduated and had to face the reality of navigating through life as an adult, mostly on your own, you had to tackle a lot of struggles and obstacles. Sure, things got better when you finally signed a contract with a publishing company and started writing for them, but whenever you thought things calmed down, there was always something happening to make you feel like everything was falling apart once again.

Like a few weeks ago when you had to move out of your apartment that you had lived in for three years because the owner decided to sell the building and every tenant had to empty their apartment on a rather short notice. You were compensated but that wasn’t enough because everything was so expensive now. You couldn’t go back to your hometown- if you went back, you would never be able to leave again. So you scoured the internet and found your current place.

And things were finally okay. You did not have to worry about rent- you were doing a good job at maintaining the house and feeding the owner proper meals and so far, he had no complaints with you (he told you if he ever did, he would make sure you knew). You were now able to keep up with your weekly deadlines and finally able to overcome your writer’s block- all thanks to Yunho.

Over the past two weeks, while you could not say that Yunho had warmed up to you, he was getting there alright. You could tell because he stopped complaining about you overcleaning- or perhaps, he admitted defeat. He also stopped protesting when you joined him for dinner before he left for work at night and it was then you would ask him all the questions you had- mostly injuries related, sometimes medical law, but you found that he was knowledgeable in legal law as well. He was never curious about why you asked him all your odd questions, but one day, he asked you what exactly you were writing.

“I’m writing about a female detective who’s assigned to a case of serial killings in her precinct. The serial killer is a strange one because he does not have a fixed method of killing and his victim pool has no pattern, and at first the detective believes that there is a group of them which may or may not be working together, but towards the end, I reveal that there was only one… and the serial killer was from the same station as her so he always knew what to avoid.”

And that was the only time Yunho looked remotely impressed with what you did- if you didn’t count the time he saw you carrying a tower of books and wondered how a tiny thing like you could carry so much. After that, whenever you told him about your progress during dinner (you insisted you needed to talk out loud about it and if he didn’t want to hear it, he could say so because you were used to talking to the walls) he would offer clarifications at least about the things that concerned him. You asked him if he had dealt with a lot of fatal wounds in surgery.

“When I was a beginner, that’s when I got the worst of them,” he admitted. “But I don’t work in the fancy hospitals anymore. With some of my colleagues, we opened our own private clinic. The hospital life wasn’t for me- at least not right now.”

That was all he offered about his personal life and you didn’t ask why he couldn’t handle a hospital life right now. Perhaps, he was going through some of his own troubles like you were too. He tended to spend most of his free time out anyway so you figured that medical practice wasn’t the only thing he was doing.

Plus, he had a thing for cars- old, beaten up cars that he would fix in his garage that he called his ‘workshop’. He would dedicate his weekend to those cars and would become so absorbed that he would forget to eat. One time, you made a smoothie for him because he had skipped his meal and when you went to the garage and cleared your throat, he appeared in your vision, all rough and messed up. You stifled your smile and raised the glass in your hand. He simply asked you to leave it in the corner and go away.

He forgot to drink that and you found it the next day in the same spot, to your dismay.

You sighed to yourself when you recalled that day, placing the mop next to the wall while you cleaned the window in the living room. You spotted a car in front of your neighbour’s house where the old couple lived and you figured it might finally be their son paying them a visit. You had actually met the couple while on your way to the convenience store and they asked you if the doctor was giving you any trouble.

“I don’t know why he couldn’t have a housemate for so long,” the old woman shook his head in worry. “He’s such a kind young man. He checks on us every weekend even though he is busy and he makes sure we go to our monthly checkups.”

“Really?” That was unexpected. “Sounds like a kind young man indeed.”

She laughed. “You must be a good person if you’ve stuck around for this long. If he gives you any trouble, just let me know and I’ll give him an earful, yeah?”

You let out a short laugh, wanting to tell her that it was probably the other way round, but it had you wondering why his previous housemates didn’t last long enough with him. He wasn’t a very strict person and the rules weren’t something one couldn’t obey. Was it because of his cold demeanour? You had to admit that he was very mysterious and sometimes, you wondered just what exactly he did other than his medical practice.

Maybe curiosity does kill the cat, so you would let it go.

You were just stacking the mops back in the shed when you heard the sound of Yunho’s bike- you could recognise the sound of his bike now- it wasn’t too loud like other bikes but had a deep sound. You turned to find him parking it in the garage and you checked your wristwatch.

“You’re… early today.”

It was half past four, the sun just starting to illuminate the sky. He usually came back when the sun was fully out. He took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair, scanning you.

“Yes, I am,” he got off the bike, not offering an explanation. You didn’t need one either. He simply nodded at you once in greeting before going inside-

Leaving a trail of muddy boot prints again.

Cursing at him, you grabbed the mop and started cleaning after him, noticing he took off his shoes on the porch this time. You made a face at the shoes, wishing you could have made it at him and picked them up and wiped them on the grass to get most of the mud off before setting them back on the porch. When you got inside, Yunho cleared his throat.

“You don’t have to take care of my shoes, I’ve said it multiple times-”

“I just cleaned,” you clenched your jaw, turning to him. “Look. You’ve got rules in this house, and as your housemate, I’ll state my rules too.”

“Oh?” He looked amused. “Please, carry on.”

“Wipe your shoes on the grass before you take them off on the porch,” you exhaled, a weight off your shoulders. “I hate it when I have just cleaned the entire house and you come from work with your muddy shoes trampling all over my hard work.”

“Trampling might be a strong word…”

“You get my point,” you glared at him and he straightened, nodding. This was the first time he saw you angry and-

He was trying his best not to laugh right now.

“Any other rules?” He managed to ask without cracking up.

“Just…” you looked around. “Oh yes, I’ve got one. When you wash your hands in the sink, you should wipe your hands with that towel-” you pointed at the twin bunny hand towels hanging by the hook you attached on the wall next to the sink. “You can use the blue one. I have the towel for the purpose that you don’t go around spreading a water trail after yourself.”

This time, Yunho turned around and finally let out the laugh he had been holding back and you stood gaping at him, wondering if you should congratulate yourself for finally making him laugh or if the bubbling thing in your throat was your anger worsening. “What? If you don’t like that, you can kick me out.”

“No,” he turned around to face you, looking down. “I’m… sorry. I won’t do that again, I’ll abide by the rules. You don’t have to get so angry-”

“I’m not angry-”

Yunho stifled another smile, shaking his head as if to stop himself from laughing again and you narrowed your eyes.

“You can laugh in front of me. I don’t bite.”

But perhaps, that was the wrong thing to say. His smile faded and he went back to being the same, cold doctor. “You should go to sleep now.”

Just like that, he dismissed you. He dismissed you like any other time you almost cracked through his cold, mysterious demeanour. And just like always, you let him dismiss you and left him alone.

He might not kick you out for setting these rules but if you continued to try to get him to break this wall he had built all around him… he would have no other option. Curiosity could kill you, you knew, but you were so curious about what kind of a person he was. You didn’t have many neighbours but the old couple insisted he was very kind and friendly when Yunho had been anything but friendly to you. He had been distant, unapproachable, sometimes talkative but rarely smiling like he had today. You refused to believe that this was who he was. He had the brightest smile and the most heartwarming laugh that you heard today, and you vowed to yourself that even though he might kick you out for crossing boundaries…

You would make him laugh. Slowly, and surely, you would break him.

—--------------------------

Yunho had had a few eventful days and perhaps, work was the only place he felt at home now, surrounded by all of his friends who knew him. Knew who he was. Knew and didn’t judge him for being the kind of person that he was. Sure, in his own home, he felt comfortable too (except for when a certain someone started nagging) but his true home was with his people.

And to find you pop up at his workplace without a notice made his eyes twitch in annoyance and realise that the urge to kill you might not be as strong as before but it was there alright.

“What are you doing here?” He said through gritted teeth, surprising not only the old lady from next door but also the staff who walked past you.

“Jeong Yunho, that is no way to talk to a lady!” The woman said, shaking her head in disappointment and when you saw Yunho’s features soften when he met her gaze, you scoffed. “She was kind enough to walk me here- I’m having a lot of trouble with my vision all of a sudden.”

“You should have called the ambulance then,” Yunho frowned, taking the woman’s hand and guiding her across the hallway, disappearing at the end and you pursed your lips, deciding to take a seat in the waiting area.

You looked around- the clinic was big enough and the staff had been kind. It looked like it ran well. There weren’t many people here right now- only a few patients in the waiting and you read the board to see that there were a number of doctors available- a gynaecologist, dentist, paediatrician, psychiatrist, nephrologist, eye specialist, ent specialist and orthopaedic surgeon. You were reading the names of all the doctors when you felt eyes on you and you saw a man in a lab coat watching you with mild amusement. You looked away but when you realised he was still staring, you raised a brow at him and he finally approached you.

“I happened to see your interaction with Yunho earlier, and couldn’t help but wonder if you were the new housemate we’ve heard so much about?”

You were rendered speechless- first of all, he seemed to be pretty damn close with Yunho. Either that or he was nosy, but you knew Yunho wasn’t the type to keep nosy people around. And then…

The housemate ‘we’ had heard so much about?

“Uh… You’re telling me that Dr. Jeong Yunho talks about me? Here? At his workplace? Who might you be?”

“I’m Dr. Jung Wooyoung,” he extended his hand and you shook it. “I’m the dentist here, and an old friend of Yunho’s. I don’t know if he mentioned but our friend group opened up this clinic here.”

“He mentioned colleagues, not friends,” you told him and he shook his head in disappointment. “But nice to meet you, doctor. I’m y/n, the housemate Yunho talks about a lot- all good things, I hope?”

Thus, Wooyoung started retelling every conversation he had with him about you and you found him very easy to talk to. There was just something about him that invited you to relax and let loose, and soon after you heard that Yunho had told them all about you being a nagger and a clean-freak weirdo writer, you were complaining about how Yunho was borderline mean to you and you found it hard to believe that he was the warm, kind and funny person that Wooyoung insisted he was.

“I mean… the lady that I brought with me? Our neighbour? I told her she was wrong when she said that Yunho was a kind young man, but you’re saying he’s the funny one? I haven’t seen him smile in days, Wooyoung.”

“He’ll get used to you in no time,” Wooyoung waved his hand in dismissal. “You just gotta keep trying. Me? I cracked him in two days.”

“No way,” you laughed. “I’ve only made him laugh once and it’s been about a month-”

“Haven’t you got patients waiting for you, Dr. Jung?”

You froze, turning around slowly to see a tense Yunho standing at the corner, watching you two for god knows how long. You were about to apologise to Wooyoung for keeping him back but Wooyoung scoffed at Yunho.

“I expected better from you, mate. I like this one- I’m taking her to Hongjoong’s room,” Wooyoung said, getting up and helping you up too, steering you by your shoulders towards the hallway even though you protested and when you looked back to catch a glimpse of Yunho, you caught him shaking his head in disappointment-

But he let out a chuckle. He probably thought you couldn’t see him. He probably laughed because of Wooyoung. But he was going to get so mad at you-

“Don’t worry, he won’t kick you out,” Wooyoung almost whispered, winking at you. “If he tries anything, you come to me, okay? I’ll handle him.”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“I would have taken you to Mingi, who’s Yunho’s oldest friend and would have given you tips on how to make Yunho give you the princess treatment, but he’s a little occupied right now so I’m taking you to Yunho’s second-oldest friend, Hongjoong.”

“When I accompanied the neighbour lady, I didn’t mean to intrude,” you paused in your tracks, looking at Wooyoung. “I’m not sure I should be here-”

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung assured you with a wide smile. “Relax. Yunho is not some big angry dude who’ll give you an earful at home. I’ll explain- and by now, he probably knows that I’m the one who’s basically kidnapped you.”

You laughed, allowing him to guide you to the eye specialist’s room and when you went inside, you saw the doctor packing his belongings. When he raised his head and brushed the dark strands away, he frowned at Wooyoung.

“The guest doesn’t look too pleased to be here, Wooyoung.”

“This is Yunho’s housemate,” Wooyoung grinned cheekily and Hongjoong said a loud ‘oh’, greeting you. “She’s the writer, Hongjoong. The crime fiction writer.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded. “I read your book when Yunho told us who you were- ‘In the Silent Hours’? Amazing read.”

You were genuinely touched. “Thank you so much. I wish I could say something, but Yunho hasn’t told me anything about you all.”

“We know,” he laughed. “He can be like that. I hope you had a good experience visiting us, though, and if you have any concerns, you know where to come.”

You looked at Wooyoung who was smiling proudly. “I have way too many questions but I won’t ask- Yunho has a ‘no interfering in personal lives’ policy,” you said and they laughed as if that was the funniest thing Yunho could have done. “I’ll drop by with cookies some day, if you’re okay with that?”

“Sounds great!” Wooyoung clapped.

“I should really get going now and catch up with Yunho on our neighbour’s condition,” you said, excusing yourself and they enthusiastically said goodbye, making you unable to contain your smile as you made your way back to the entrance where Yunho was discussing something with a nurse-

Goodness, he looked so fucking hot in that lab coat with his hair done. You were positive his outworldly proportions were what made a boring lab coat look so attractive-

He caught you staring and when he finished talking with the nurse, he slowly made his way to you.

“Where’s grandma?” You asked. “Did you find out what’s wrong?”

“We’ve referred her to the nearest hospital and called her family- it seems to be a case of infarct and she’s lucky that she’s still walking and functioning like normal save for her eyes.”

“Oh-”

“And thanks to you bringing her so soon, we’ve managed to minimise the damage,” Yunho actually smiled this time and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. “She’s resting right now- they’ll take care of her until her family comes.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Well…” Yunho checked the time and you did the same- it was almost 2 which meant he would be off soon. “It’s almost time to go home. You walked here?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I should get going then.”

When Yunho didn’t say anything, you said bye and turned to leave but then you heard the familiar voice of Wooyoung shout ‘take her home, don’t be an ass!’ and you stifled a grin, facing Yunho to assure you that you would be okay walking-

“I mean… we’re going to the same place, so… I could make an exception this time- like the other exceptions I’m making,” Yunho narrowed his eyes at you. “I will pretend today didn’t happen.”

“Oh, please, I’ll walk myself home-”

“I’m kidding,” Yunho smiled and you wondered if it was the place that made him comfortable enough to joke with you. “I would have considered dissecting you alive if you dropped by for no reason, but really, you did a good thing today. Think of it as returning the sentiment.”

“I really don’t get you,” you said, ignoring the reference he made to your last inquiry about dissections, waiting for him when he said he would get his things from his room. When he returned with his bag, helmet and without the lab coat, you followed him outside, repeating that. “I really don’t get you, Yunho. You seem like two different people in one body.”

“Perhaps, I am,” he mused. “And perhaps, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Here, wear this.”

He handed you his helmet and you took it, watching him get on his bike. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you can wear this, I’ll be fine-”

“Y/n,” he warned, the sudden change in his pitch sending butterflies in your stomach. “Just do as I say. Now, get on and hold on tight. I’m not slowing down for you.”

And perhaps, you should have insisted more on walking back home because he sped through the streets, making you grip his jacket tighter with each passing second, but it was so thrilling that when you reached home, you almost asked for a second round. You took off the helmet and laughed out loud, shaking your head.

“It’s not my first time riding on a bike with someone, but it’s been ages. Can I get another ride one day?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Yunho warned, helping you get off and then parking the bike in his garage. “And I hope you don’t have any questions regarding my workplace today.”

“Oh, I have many, but…” you motioned to your lips, zipping them shut and Yunho nodded in approval, unlocking the house and going inside first. You muttered ‘ass’ and went to the kitchen, heating up everything you had made today, mind still plagued with the events of today.

—-----------------------

You finished plating the steaks, satisfied at your presentation, the cheese perfectly melted on top of the fried crust. It smelled heavenly and since you now knew that Yunho was an actual food enthusiast and a surprisingly gentle and constructive critic, the simple chore of cooking became something you started looking forward to.

When you lived alone, you never made much effort to cook for yourself, but now, things were different. Your house owner was reducing your rent in exchange for home-cooked meals and you could deliver, so you waited for Yunho who would be coming downstairs any minute- he had informed you that he had to leave for work early today so you prepared accordingly, though anyone could tell you were putting more effort into the meals now.

And that was because ever since the day in Yunho’s clinic, it looked like he was finally starting to consider you more than a housemate. You couldn’t exactly call yourselves friends- the rules were still the same, but perhaps, Yunho liked that you were a person of your word. You never talked about that day in the hospital, neither did you ask him about his friends. You never asked him what happened if he came back home at an odd time or if he suddenly went out in the middle of the night. You both respected each other’s boundaries and perhaps, that was what made him start opening up to you.

It wasn’t much, no. It was the little things- him offering to help you arrange the grocery or join you when you watched netflix. He would scroll on his phone, occasionally comment on whatever you were watching and then leave. It was him actually cleaning after himself when he accidentally brought his muddy shoes inside- you gave him a thumbs-up to acknowledge his effort and even that got him flustered, which you thought was cute. And it was him actually taking interest in what you were writing instead of giving answers to the questions you asked.

When you heard his footsteps down the stairs, you pretended to be busy setting the table and he made an impressed face as he took a seat.

“This is new,” he commented, waiting for you to sit before he could dig in.

“I’ve had this recipe for a while and finally felt the urge to try it,” you told him. When he took the first bite and nodded in approval, you relaxed and began eating yourself.

“It’s been about two months. You don’t have to worry about what I think about your cooking. I’ll have it even if it doesn’t taste like something straight out of a restaurant.”

“Can’t tell if it’s a joke or not, but I like it when the other person starts first- when I cook,” you said. He understood. He always seemed to understand where you came from, which was why you both rarely ever disagreed on things.

“It’s really good,” he said. “Also, I wanted to, uh, inform you- there’s a fundraiser happening at the clinic to help the patients who can’t afford to pay their bills. If you would like to participate…”

You passed him a side-eye. “That’s not you talking, is it?”

“You’re right,” he looked guilty. “Wooyoung and Hongjoong forced me to. Something about… cookies?”

“Oh? They remember?”

“They said it’s a good opportunity to flaunt your baking skills if you’re up for it,” Yunho shook his head in thought. “I personally think it’s okay if you don’t want to bake for strangers-”

“When is it?”

“This weekend.”

“I can do it,” you said and when he looked like he was regretting asking you, you continued, “If you have some qualms about me personally attending it, I could just bake the cookies and you could take them with you.”

“No, it’s not that,” he scratched his neck. “It’s…”

“I know, and I don’t mind,” you assured him. “I agreed to your terms when I decided to move in here. I won’t interfere in your workspace if that is what you want-”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just… new for me too,” he admitted and you paused, a bit surprised to hear that. “I’ll let you know the timings-”

His gaze stuck on the kitchen counter for a few moments, prompting you to follow it and see that he was staring holes into the knife holder. You looked at Yunho again to make sure if that was what he was staring at and then his gaze went to the cabinet at the left end of the kitchen-

“Where did you get those knives?”

For a moment, you wondered if his change of tone was something you were imagining until he got up and slowly walked to the counter where the knife holder was, taking out one of the knives and examining it and then almost rushing towards the cabinet at the left end and opening it-

“I told you not to touch the locked cabinets, didn’t I?”

You would have perhaps trembled under his dark gaze if you weren’t so confused right now. “The locked cabinets, yes? But that one was unlocked?”

Yunho glared at you, knife still in his hand. “When did you check it?”

“I was looking for a knife strong enough to cut meat and I found this cabinet unlocked-”

“You used this knife to cut the meat?”

You could feel your hands get clammy by now, lower lip almost quivering and you hated how small your voice sounded when you said yes. He turned around and almost grunted in pain and you wondered just what you had done so wrong. Almost mechanically, you took another bite of your now cold steak. Yunho came back to his seat but instead of sitting, he dropped the knife on the table with a clang.

“You knew that cabinet used to be locked, didn’t you?” His loud voice shook you and you wondered what effect he would have if he shouted. “You keep breaking rules without breaking them-”

“Well it’s not my fault it was unlocked, okay?” You shouted this time, dropping your utensils on the table, frustrated. “You should have locked it properly then!”

Before he could respond, you stormed off to your room, shutting your door with a bang and he slumped down on his chair, trying to take deep breaths, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust he got when he looked at his half-eaten meal-

Because you fucking used his knife to make a meal for him.

The knife he had killed several people with.

How could he forget to lock it? He couldn’t recall not locking it, but still, how could he be so careless? How could he-

He heard a muffled sound- it was hard to miss because the house was usually very silent, but it had to be the sound of you sobbing and to his surprise, despite everything, something in his heart ached at the sound. Now that the cloud of anger was disappearing, he realised he had reacted irrationally. It was his fault for not making sure the cabinet with his murder weapons was locked. He kept them in the kitchen so it wouldn’t be suspicious if someone saw, but still, he should have hidden them well. And then what he said about you continuing to break rules when he himself invited you to the fundraiser-

Yes, Wooyoung suggested it but it was ultimately him who invited you. Yunho shook his head, disappointed in himself and wondered what to do. He came to the conclusion that for now, he needed to collect his thoughts while you sobbed. Shit, he thought. He must have scared you a lot. He had been told way too many times that he was a scary person when angry, and you did not have to see that when you spent an hour making him such a good meal.

So, disappointed and praying to the heavens above that you at least washed the knives properly before you used them, he resumed eating, almost gagging through the rest of the meal and when he was done and had one glass of cool water down his system to calm himself, he finally mustered the courage to get up, be a man and apologise to you.

The thing about you, he realised since you moved here, was that you were odd in a charming way. When he was looking for a housemate who would maintain the house and cook, he didn’t expect someone who was so dedicated to the task. You were busy too, but it looked like you had shifted your schedule to adjust to his. When he was gone to work, you slept, and when he came back, you would be waiting for him. You had added life to this house and he couldn’t believe how much his mood had changed now that the house looked like a home and he ate well.

You always gave and gave, expecting nothing in return. Perhaps, that’s just who you were. A good person, someone he could only wish to be. Someone who only wrote about horrible crimes instead of actually committing them. Someone who believed that her house owner was a respectable doctor and not a part-time serial killer as well.

That was debatable too. He had a purpose- he didn’t kill randomly. He only killed the people who deserved it. But that was a story for later- he couldn’t come into your room and tell you that reason, so what the hell was he doing standing in front of your door?

Yunho knocked gently and when you fell silent but didn’t respond, he knocked again.

“Y/n? Can I come in?”

Silence.

“Please?”

It was the gentleness in his voice that made you mutter a small yes, but only after you wiped your tears away. Truth be told, you weren’t that sensitive. You weren’t sure why you ended up throwing a tantrum and crying tonight but you figured it was long due now. You just wished you could explain to him without becoming a mess again-

And then he opened the door, looking worriedly at you. Worriedly, with his brows scrunched and actions hesitant and you found your vision getting blurry with tears again.

Dammit.

You looked away but from the corner of your eye you saw him look around the room once before hesitantly walking to where you were- on the floor, back resting against the bed. To your surprise, he sank down next to you, mirroring your position.

“I don’t know how to say it, but I’m sorry,” he almost whispered. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s my fault.”

A fresh stream of tears left your eyes and you weren’t sure if it was because of what happened earlier or what he said now. He couldn’t simply come inside your room and apologise and act like it wouldn’t affect you.

“Will you look at me?”

You wiped your tears and turned to face him, hesitating to meet his eyes. He understood. He shifted a bit towards you. “No explanation will make it better, and I’m ashamed that I reacted this way when it’s my fault that I left that cabinet unlocked. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you when you do so much for me without asking.”

“Yes,” your voice was quivering as much as your lips. “It’s your fault. I mean… I won’t ask but they are just knives, Yunho.”

And then you were crying again at the absurdity of it all and Yunho decided to take responsibility. He patted your head awkwardly and when you buried your head between your knees, he drew closer and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he attempted to sound sincere- he was, but you didn’t need to know that he was also stifling grins. “I scared you, right?”

“You did!” You cried. “Do you know how awful you look when you’re angry? And holding that knife? I thought you were going to stab me, Yunho.”

And this time, Yunho laughed heartily, making you laugh as well and push him away. He put a hand on the side of your face to cup it, still laughing as he said, “Please. Who would cook for me if I killed you?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “You have a lot of friends. Maybe one of them could cook for you.”

Yunho smiled at that, wiping your tears away and you suddenly felt conscious of the position you two were in, though he didn’t seem to realise it yet- or he was ignoring it, for once. “Sorry for almost yelling at you. And sorry for saying everything that I did.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, scanning his features now that you were looking at him up close for the first time. You noticed how warm his eyes could look, how soft his features actually were. He looked perfect, and if it weren’t for all the rules that would cost you a living space, you would have crossed a lot of boundaries by now. “I’m sure you had your reasons- and I should have asked when I found the cabinet unlocked.”

“But that doesn’t justify my behaviour one bit,” he shook his head. “Now, will you come out and finish your dinner?”

“But-”

“I have finished mine,” he told you. “And now you should too. I’ll go heat it up.”

With a pat to your cheek, he left the room, leaving you wrapped in his clean and manly scent. You sighed deeply, avoiding the mirror but wiping your face before taking a seat back at the table. You watched him set the table for you.

“You should go now,” you said. “You had to leave early. I’ve probably held you back a lot, I’m sorry-”

“I’ll go when you finish eating,” he insisted and you shot him a glare before picking up your fork.

“Just so you know,” you said as you took a bite, Yunho watching you earnestly. “I don’t usually become a crying mess like I just did. I’m stronger than that.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I am,” you glared at him again. “But I have my limit too. And today was all the pent up emotions from the previous two months.”

“All because of me, huh?”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself,” you teased. “I have other things to worry about too.”

“Of course you do,” he smiled.

“Yep. Like deadlines. And chores.”

“I hope the fundraiser won’t conflict with your deadline?”

“It won’t,” you told him. “You’re assuming I’ll attend.”

“I’ll make sure you do,” he said as you finished eating the last bite. “Because I’m the one who’s inviting you.”

Perhaps, this was another step towards a relationship more meaningful than housemates. Perhaps…

He was finally starting to consider you a friend.

—-------------------------------

Sometimes, Yunho wondered if it was a good decision to have you as his housemate.

It wasn’t that you were doing anything wrong, no. You were perfect. Goodness, you were perfect and he both loved and hated that. He had no idea how he got lucky with you- and he was not thinking about the fact that he got to have delicious meals at home or his place looked maintained.

It was about the things he could talk to you about, and hell, he didn’t even talk to you much. You probably had no idea how much he enjoyed your little questions about what was the most painful way to die or how you would kill someone in a certain context- it was the only time, perhaps, that he could be himself. He had spent a long time being convinced by his friends that he was not a bad person inside, and perhaps, they were right. But if they were…

Why did he enjoy talking to you about this stuff so much? Was it because these secrets were a burden to him, even though his friends knew? He never told them the details so perhaps, talking about killing people and hurting them in detail with you helped him in some twisted, cathartic way. Whatever it was, he was certain that he was getting addicted to watching you get impressed by his knowledge about such things he claimed was from years of his surgery practice, and he was also ashamedly addicted about how unhinged you sounded when you talked about the criminals in your fiction.

He was positive you couldn’t be an undercover-something. You couldn’t even hurt a fly, let alone a human. But the way you got excited when you talked in detail about a certain type of wound or method of torture… he often found himself zoning out and simply staring at you while you talked. Perhaps, he was the unhinged one, but he found you so attractive when you talked about what you loved writing about, and he was very close to asking you about what made you write such gory crime fiction novels. He would be breaking his own rule of not interfering in each other’s personal lives, but all rules be damned- he had to know what drove you to write all of this.

He was also pretty sure you weren’t as naive as you looked and probably found his habits weird. There was no way he could look redeemable after the knife incident. While you were gone the next day, he personally sanitised all of them because he was sure you were going to keep using those knives. He figured it turned out to be okay in the end- he had to change his murder weapons and method soon anyway. The police were starting to connect a few dots and he was sure they would come with a search warrant any day.

But perhaps, it was a good decision to have you in this house. If the police ever came, you could help with Yunho’s image. He felt guilty for using you for that purpose now that he was almost starting to care about you despite his principles but… in the end, it was all turning out to be good. All was well.

A bit too well, if he had to say, as he watched you get a little too chummy with Mingi and Wooyoung. You had done a good job at the fundraiser, having baked dozens of cookies and with some strange ribbon packaging you claimed was cute. He took care of the stall but you still brought a lot of decoration from the house to give it a personal touch, and not only the visitors but the staff were also impressed by your skills. Now that the event was done and you were wrapping up everything, Mingi and Wooyoung had casually joined you to help and to praise your work. Yunho didn’t miss the subtle glances they threw in his direction as if to tease him, and what could he say?

It was working.

“Are you gonna keep watching her like she’s your next target or are you going to make a move?”

Yunho shut his eyes in mild annoyance before looking to his right where Seonghwa stood with his trademark smile, nodding at the visitors who greeted him before they left. If anyone knew that behind the kind smile of the paeds doctor was one of the masterminds of their team that essentially rooted out the evil from the society…

“I’d rather watch. I know Mingi or Wooyoung will say something stupid if I approach them now.”

Seonghwa chuckled at that. “She’s done a good job today. She’s extraordinary, Yunho.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me that you two were discussing her novel when you took a break in the cafe.”

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “If she was a part of our team, we could actually succeed in working with the police.”

“How?”

“Think about it,” he bowed at one of the elders who passed by. “Imagine her next work is about what we do. Crime fiction to others, but something the police could use to clean up our mess, yeah?”

Once again, Yunho was in awe of the way Seonghwa’s mind worked. “The police would use that to arrest us.”

“Or they would turn a blind eye and let us do their dirty work. Two sides of the coin,” Seonghwa patted Yunho’s back and left to join Hongjoong and Yunho considered what he had said. When he saw Mingi pick something out of your hair, though, he decided he’d had enough.

“Ah, you’re here,” Wooyoung had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Y/n, now is your time to tell us if you’d like to change your houseowner.”

“Nah, I’m good,” you grinned, meeting Yunho’s eyes who looked pleased to hear that. “This one is good at pretending I don’t exist so sometimes I feel like I own the house myself.”

Mingi laughed loudly at that and Yunho smiled in embarrassment. He was guilty, yes. When you noticed his ears getting red, you laughed. “I’m just kidding. I really couldn’t have a better person as a housemate.”

“You’re lying,” Wooyoung smacked your arm playfully and you put the last of the things in your duffel bag.

“You won’t understand,” you simply told Wooyoung and chanced a glance at Yunho who no longer looked embarrassed and offered to take your bag. You let him and said your goodbyes to the two, waving at the rest of the staff who told you to come again (with baked treats) and you followed Yunho to the parking lot. This time, you had made sure he had a spare helmet and when he noticed you grinning, he asked you what was so funny.

“Nothing, I’m just excited to ride your bike again,” you giggled like a kid. “I kind of have a thing for bikes.”

And there it was. Another reason Yunho felt his heart pound rather uncharacteristically.

Perhaps, that was what prompted him to break one of his biggest rules and ask, “Would you like to have dinner somewhere… with me? You must be too tired to make dinner at home, and I know a quiet spot if you’re up for it- if not… that’s okay too, we could order something instead-”

He paused when he noticed your smile growing and he raised a brow in question. You wanted to tell him that he was rambling (which was cute as hell) but you only nodded. “I’d love to. You’re right, I’m tired- and a quiet spot sounds nice at this hour. I won’t say no to a longer bike ride too.”

Yunho chuckled at that as he put on his helmet. You followed and got on the bike behind him. “It’s not gonna be a short trip if you’re okay.”

“I’m good!” You assured and he told you to hang on tight as he started the heavy bike and started driving towards the darkening horizon. You put your hands on Yunho’s shoulders but as he sped on the emptier roads, you resorted to clutching the sides of his jacket and rested your head on his back, watching the view. You loved how quiet it got in your head at times like these and it almost made you wish this moment would never end.

You didn’t know how much time passed but finally, Yunho started slowing down and you looked up, finding yourself at the riverside. When he parked in an empty space, he got down first and helped you down. You took off your helmet and smoothened your hair, looking around. It seemed to be a remote spot that the tourists had not yet discovered and the pretty lightning bordering the sidewalk illuminated the benches at the distance and-

“Fried chicken!” You grinned. “I didn’t know what I was craving until I smelt it.”

Yunho smiled, motioning you to follow him. He led you inside where you placed your orders and you both decided to take one of the tables outside. There weren’t many people here anyway so you were going to enjoy the cool river breeze.

Now that you sat in front of him, it finally settled in that you were outside with Yunho for the first time. That he offered to take you out for dinner. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely dreamy with his dark hair falling messily on his forehead and his shoulder looking even broader in the black jacket he wore, and when he ran a hand through his hair, swiping it away from his forehead-

He met your eyes and you realised you had been staring. You awkwardly sipped your water and looked towards your left, urging yourself to focus on the sound of the waves instead of the sound of your erratic heartbeat. You cleared your throat. “How did you find this spot? It’s beautiful.”

“I used to live near here when I was little,” he smiled and you thought there was something sad about it.

“Oh, your parents must still live around here then?” You wondered and when his smile fell, you knew you had asked a question you shouldn’t have.

But to your surprise, he answered, “They passed away when I was in highschool. I had to move out soon, so I couldn’t come back here for a good few years.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry to hear that,” you said and he told you it was okay. “I can tell why this place is close to your heart though. It’s wonderful here.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said and you were glad your chicken arrived at that moment, breaking the awkwardness from your conversation. “How did today go? You’re quite popular at the clinic now.”

You grinned, “Nobody can resist chocolate chip cookies, apparently. Wooyoung said I helped raise a lot of money.”

“You did,” Yunho confirmed and you both took a bite of the chicken. You groaned in appreciation.

“I don’t know if it's the river or the vibe,” you said after swallowing the first bite. “But doesn’t the chicken taste so good here?”

“There’s a reason I brought you here,” he laughed at the way you stared at the chicken. “Good food and a killer view.”

It took you both a few pieces to get comfortable and this time, when you asked him about the clinic and all his friends, he answered all your questions. You learned that Yunho and Mingi were school friends and Yunho met Hongjoong at the end of highschool. Their group expanded over the years and today, after years of studying and working together, they had their own place.

Yunho also asked you about your recent progress and you complained about your publishers. He then asked where you were originally from and he learned that you were from a small town at the outskirts of the city and had a younger brother but your relationship with your family was a bit strained so you didn’t visit them often. He also found that you didn’t have many friends, just a few you met annually. He realised then why it was so easy for you to get comfortable with Wooyoung and Mingi- perhaps, they reminded you of your friends, or maybe you missed normal human interaction.

As you finished eating, you asked him what urged him to really bring you here tonight. Yunho looked at you as if to make you reconsider your question but when you held your front, he finally gave in. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For everything,” he shrugged. “You do a lot. I haven’t done anything in return.”

“Uh, forty percent off?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Just accept the sentiment and shut up.”

“Yes sir,” you saluted and he paid the bill, insisting it was his treat even though you asked to split the bill. “Well, if you won’t let me pay, maybe we can walk a little before we go?”

“That makes no sense, but okay,” Yunho said, shaking his head in amusement and you took the lead, going towards the edge to peek down at the river and then you started your stroll.

“Isn’t it nice to get some fresh air?” You commented, taking a deep breath. “No worries, just the river and us.”

Yunho nodded silently and you grinned. “If you have more spots like these… don’t hide them from me.”

“Just this one,” he admitted and you nodded, satisfied. “What about you? Do you have a spot like this?”

You had… until everything went horribly wrong. You had a place so close to your heart that you hadn’t visited in years-

“You okay?” Yunho asked worriedly, having noticed your smile drop.

“Uh, yeah,” you pursed your lips. “I had one. I don’t go there anymore- bad memories.”

“Ah… sorry I asked-”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “If I grow the guts one day… I’ll take you there.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Just shut up and accept the offer,” you winked at him and he grinned at your statement. You noticed you had already walked around the area, the parking lot in your vision now. Before you could walk towards it, Yunho called your name, making you pause in your tracks.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“Did you mean it when you said… earlier at the clinic…” Yunho put his hands in his pockets awkwardly, trying to phrase it better. “When you-”

“When I said you were a good housemate?” You asked, internally smiling because you just knew he would end up asking you to elaborate. “I meant it.”

“Why? I have been anything but nice.”

“That’s a lie,” you pointed out. “Just because you have a few rules you’re strict about doesn’t mean you’re not nice company when you’re in a good mood. And you answer all my weird questions without judgement!” You clapped your hands. “What more could I ask for?”

When you saw that he didn’t look convinced, you took a deep breath. “To be honest, my life was falling apart before I moved in with you. Everything started going wrong at the same time. It was too much and I really thought I would have to go back to my hometown- and I would go anywhere but there. So when we made a deal? Yes, I thought you were strange at first but I couldn’t complain, and now that we’ve… warmed up to each other a bit, you’re not bad company at all, Yunho. You may still be an asshole about your rules,” you laughed and he joined, the corners of his lips curving downwards- was he flustered? “But I can see why the people at the clinic like you. You’re quite dependable.”

“That’s…”

“Too much?” You laughed. “In short, you gave me a nice deal and my life is finally back to normal, and you’re a good person, you idiot. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I think you’re getting a little too comfortable with me though…”

“Yeah?” You walked towards the bike. “Says the guy who basically took me on a date.”

And there it was again- the flustered smile of his that was so endearing, the ears turning red and the nervous laugh as he wondered what to do, where to look. You laughed out loud, finding it quite funny.

“You’re a very easy prey, Dr. Jeong,” you teased. “Quite easy to get to.”

“Did you really think of this as a date?” He held his helmet, waiting for your answer and you thought about it.

“Platonic date?” You wondered. “Outing? Icebreaking party? Whatever you wanna name it…”

You faltered when he stepped closer and looked down at you, scanning your face. Suddenly, you were so conscious of the proximity between you two. The dim lights made his gaze look darker and you wished you could take a peak in his mind. He brought his hand up and tucked your hair behind your ear ever so gently, lightly caressing your cheek-

And then he poked you in the middle of the forehead, making you wince out loud.

“I’m still the grumpy mysterious owner,” he quoted what you had said to Wooyoung today and you gaped at him, wondering if he had heard the entirety of the conversation. “So don’t get too ahead of yourself, okay?”

You rubbed your forehead, muttering okay and complaining about how he could have just said so. But when you wore your helmet and settled down behind him, clutching at the sides of his jacket, he held your hands in his and you couldn’t even digest how his big hands engulfed your small ones before he wrapped your arms around his waist.

“It’s better this way- I’m speeding,” he said.

“I really don’t get you, Yunho,” you told him and he cast you a glance before starting to drive, speeding as promised. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared if you held on to the sides of his jacket like earlier or his shoulders for dear life but…

But you wouldn’t complain. So you rested your head against his back again, bodies flush against each other and you let yourself feel whatever you were feeling for the ride back home.

—----------------------------

It was a good day today- somewhat productive because you were almost done writing your book and the editor was pleased with your work too. Yunho was having dinner with his colleagues tonight so you decided not to cook and just have the leftovers from yesterday for dinner then and went to your room to finally sort out the mess you had been avoiding ever since you moved in-

The books.

While you had lined all your books along the walls, creating towers of them that you were scared would one day fall on you if you ever made a clumsy mistake, you had realised that perhaps it was time you let go of some of the books. You could already feel your heart being broken at the thought but your room was starting to look too congested compared to the rest of the spacious house so you would have to make a little sacrifice.

So you spent hours sorting through the books and almost didn’t hear Yunho coming downstairs until he knocked on your room, eyes widening at the books around you.

“Yeah, I know I’m a mess,” you said. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, laughing in what seemed to be shock. “Do you need… help?”

“No, I’m just sorting them out,” you dismissed, though surprised at the offer. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Yunho was still lingering at the doorway. “Well, I don’t know when I’ll be back, so…”

“Have fun,” you looked at him, grinning. “I’ll be fine. This is something I do annually.”

“If you say so. Don’t get lost in there,” he teased and you rolled your eyes, shooing him away.

And that was that. You didn’t even realise how much time passed- you kept getting distracted as you held each book in hand and recalled the memories associated with it. It was only when the doorbell rang that you frowned, checking the clock. It was 09:47 pm- who could it be? Not Yunho- he had his keys. Maybe the woman from next door?

But when you opened the door to two grown men with badges around their necks, you did a quick scan, realising two things- that they were detectives, and one of the faces was way too familiar.

“Good evening, miss,” the younger one said. “We’re Detectives Lee and Seo from the station-”

“Y/n?” The older one- the familiar face called your name and suddenly, it clicked-

It clicked. Everything you had buried deep inside you, somewhere so deep that you hadn’t thought about it in perhaps a year, was suddenly out and washing over you like a wave of cold water. Everything from about two decades ago started flashing in front of your eyes and you gulped down the thing stuck in your throat with immense effort.

“Detective Seo?” Your voice sounded small even to your ears.

“It’s been a while,” he looked as confused as you. “I didn’t expect to see you here- doesn’t this house belong to a Doctor Jeong Yunho?”

“You’re right,” you told him. “I live on the first floor on rent.”

“I see… Can we come in then?”

“If you’re here to meet Dr. Jeong, he’s not home right now-”

“We can wait,” he told you. “Besides… it’s been a while- won’t you invite us for tea?”

“You can’t just visit so late at night and expect tea,” you folded your arms, finally getting a grip. “What is the purpose of your visit, really?”

“We really needed a statement, or anything from the doctor,” Detective Seo said. “Let us wait for him for half an hour, and then we’ll leave.”

You considered kicking them out but then figured they could wait. Yunho would probably be late and they would have to go back after half an hour without anything. Plus, it didn’t look like Detective Seo was about to budge anytime soon. The other detective also looked intrigued and you gave in, allowing them to the living room though just like two decades ago, Detective Seo made a point of roaming around-

“That your room?” He pointed at the mess of books and you stifled the urge to pass a biting remark.

“Yes, I was a little busy as you can probably see. Please, take a seat.”

While you asked Detective Lee if he would like some tea, you kept an eye on the older detective who was now looking around the living room. You turned on the kettle- there was no way you were going to serve them the fancier teas you had. They would have to make do with teabags.

“How long since you moved here?”

“Is that related to your current investigation?” You asked and he scoffed.

“Come on, y/n. Don’t act like we’re strangers here. Are you still in contact with your family?”

And there it was.

“Not really,” you simply said. “I moved out for college and only visit annually.”

“How’s your mother doing?”

Your mother. Your brother. The people who destroyed you.

“She’s okay, probably,” you said. Your voice was already starting to crack, and that was not a good sign. The kettle turned off and you poured the boiling water carefully into the cups, wondering if Yunho returning early would make things better or worse.

“I moved here around that time too,” he said, taking the cup from you with thanks and after giving the other to Detective Lee, you went to stand near the kitchen, folding your arms again. “I visit a lot though. I heard your brother got into a good college.”

“Yeah, well,” you pursed your lips. “I suppose he did.”

“Do you still blame yourself for what happened back then?”

You pretended to not hear that question and asked the detective to take a seat. It was getting annoying now that he walked casually towards the kitchen, scanning the notes stuck on the fridge- Yunho’s “eat your dinner pls” that you only noticed now, your to-do list and grocery list, and the silly magnets. He made a face and placed his empty cup on the sink-

And then he spotted the knife holder.

“That’s a lot of knives,” he commented.

“I cook. A lot,” you said, wishing you had made that teabag tea for yourself too- anything to keep you from squirming. The detective looked at you suspiciously before taking his hand out of his pocket-

“Do not touch my knives, Detective,” you glared at him. “Can you please get out of the kitchen and wait in the living room?”

“I’m just looking,” he dismissed you and to your annoyance, took out one of the knives to examine, and then the other, then the other-

“I said, do not touch my knives.”

Yunho, who was standing outside the house near the kitchen window that was slightly ajar so he could hear everything, felt his heart swell in pride and admiration- he had never heard you state anything as strongly before. He contained in his sigh of relief, wondering if now was the right time to barge in.

Truth be told, he had spotted their car as soon as he entered the street and at first he thought that you had broken one of the rules and invited someone but upon a closer look, he realised with dread that the car belonged to the detectives who had just recently connected one of the cases with his clinic. He parked his bike in the garage and when he heard voices from the kitchen window, he went to eavesdrop and realised that they had just entered.

“No need to get so angry over some kitchen knives,” Detective Seo’s voice was stern. “What do you need so many for anyway? Are they yours?”

“I’m the only one who can cook,” you were seething now. “And what’s it to you?”

“Well, this one looks oddly familiar.”

“Yeah? It’s for cutting vegetables, Detective. I bet your wife owns it too- if you have one. That one’s for dicing, the one on top for fish because I feel like it remains stinky so it’s only for fish. You have a problem with that?”

Yunho stifled a smile- you were rambling now. He wondered why you didn’t simply tell them that they were his knives originally. He was positive the detectives would be connecting the dots right away and going back for an arrest warrant-

“Well, you see,” Detective Seo picked the longest knife out. “This one?”

“For meat,” you muttered.

“This one matches the murder weapon in the case we’re investigating,” he looked at you. “12 inches, dull but sharpened far too many times.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed. “So someone’s committed murder with a kitchen knife? They’re a genius.”

“How so?”

“Who doesn’t own a kitchen knife?” You almost cried. “They’re probably making a fool out of you, go back to your home and look in your kitchen. You probably have a 12 inch dull meat knife too.”

“How would you know?” Detective Lee asked this time. “That they’re making a fool out of us?”

“Why else would they use such an inconvenient weapon? Either for the thrill, or to make a fool out of you. Or both. Just… put the knife back, okay?”

“You’ve always been an odd one, and you always knew way too much,” Detective Seo put the knife back but narrowed his eyes at you. “Where were you on the 17th around midnight?”

“Around midnight, every day of every year for the past few years, I’ve been home. And I hope you go raiding everyone’s kitchen now that you know what your murder weapon looks like. Also, why are you even here? To investigate me? Again?”

“We came for Dr. Jeong-”

“You think he goes around committing murder only to operate on them later in his clinic? He’s a doctor, for Christ’s sake,” you shut your eyes, feeling a burning sensation in both your throat and eyes. “Please, leave. You can meet Dr. Jeong elsewhere- I’ll ask him to contact you.”

“And why are you getting so jittery?” Detective Seo asked. “Is there something you’re hiding again? Someone you’re protecting again? Or are you just protecting yourself-”

Yunho couldn’t take it anymore- he’d heard enough, and the whimper that left you made his vision dark for a moment. Rushing to the front door, he unlocked it and entered, shutting it a bit loudly to prove a point-

And saw you standing in the middle of the room, curling in on yourself, eyes weary. If hearing you sound like that wasn’t enough, having to look at you in this state was worse and he wished he had acted earlier. He didn’t know what took over him but he rushed to you and wrapped you in his arms-

And when you buried your face in his chest, relaxing instantly in his grasp, red hot anger ran through his veins as he assessed the detectives who stood awkwardly around him.

“How dare you make my girl cry?” He almost growled, wrapping his arms tighter, almost possessively around you. “What are you doing here?”

Detective Seo shook his head in disbelief and Detective Lee took the lead. “We came to talk to you about a few things- it’s very hard to reach you-”

“So you come barging into my house and bombard someone unrelated with questions and make her cry?” Yunho scoffed. “A phone call? Summoning me to the station? Or at least a search warrant, which I bet you don’t have, just like before. Shall I report you for misconduct?”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Detective Seo finally butted in. “Y/n and I were just catching up- we’re actually acquaintances-”

You shook your head in Yunho’s grasp to let him know that you did not want to be a part of this ‘catching up’ and Yunho patted your back.

“She says otherwise,” Yunho caressed your hair. “I don’t care if you’ve met before. You’re clearly unwanted. Please, leave. You have my number, you can contact me later, but do not make the mistake of coming here again. And do not try to make contact with her again.”

Shrugging, the detectives left, Detective Lee muttering a silent apology on behalf of them both. When you heard the doors sound shut, you tried getting out of Yunho’s grasp to let him know he didn’t need to do that anymore-

But he only deepened the hug, leaning down this time to hold you better and you sighed at that. He rocked you gently back and forth, all the while caressing your head gently as if he meant to lull you to some calm space- and oh, was he successful. You were no longer crying.

Hesitantly, he broke away a bit to see if you were okay. Your eyes fluttered open, a bit red from crying and he cupped your face, wiping your tears.

“Why did you let them in, y/n?”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured you. “Did they force themselves inside?”

“Not really, but they were insisting on coming inside and waiting,” you sniffed. “Detective Seo- the older one… he knows me from when I was a kid and he started to get a bit too comfortable-”

“I know,” he told you and when you frowned in confusion, he said, “I actually heard a bit of it while I was parking.”

“A bit?”

“Most of it,” he admitted, breaking into a smile. “You did not have to defend my kitchen knives with all your might, y/n.”

You chuckled at that. “I don’t know, I got so angry! He kept walking around and it was annoying me so much- I thought giving him tea would make him sit, but no, he had to walk around with a cup in his hand-”

Yunho shook with laughter, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re too adorable at times.”

“And… I can’t believe I’m hearing the word adorable come out of your mouth,” you looked at him in disbelief. “Who are you? And where is Dr. Jeong?”

“It’s just Yunho,” he smiled and you smiled back, spending a moment just looking at him and realising that you were still way too close, in his arms, your heart fluttering uncontrollably.

“Well… just Yunho,” you said, your hands on his waist feeling clammy. “Thank you for coming at the right time. And thank you for… what you did.”

Yunho took a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

You pursed your lips, looking away. You could not answer that, because even if you lied to him, you would break down anyway. Detective Seo had opened the dam of unwanted, ugly memories and you were definitely not okay. You wouldn’t be for a while now-

But it looked like Yunho had made it his life’s mission to make sure you would feel okay. He brought you back in a hug and this time, you didn’t cry. You simply wrapped your arms around his waist better and listened to the sound of his heartbeat which somehow calmed you. To your surprise, he planted a kiss on the top of your head before he squeezed you in assurance.

You broke away to look at him. “What’s got you so… clingy and fluffy all of a sudden? Not that I don’t like it, but…”

Yunho tucked your hair away from your face, kissing your forehead this time and pretending he hadn’t heard that. It wasn’t the first time he got a closer look at you yet he committed everything to memory as if it was his first time seeing you. He couldn’t answer your question either, because…

He was pretty sure he had fallen for you a little when he heard you earlier. The way you never let the detectives think about him for even a second when you were being cornered with the knives- he was absolutely sure that you had not done that unintentionally. Sure, he had initially thought that if he ever got in trouble with the police, you could make a good cover, but now you had protected him on purpose. He would ask you about that, but first…

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Uh… no. I forgot.”

Yunho shook his head in disappointment. “I go away for one meal and you forget to eat.”

You pouted and he led you to the chair, making you sit. He poured a glass of water for you and after you drank it, he asked if you made something today. You told him you didn’t cook today and he sighed.

“So you only cook for me?”

“I like cooking… and I like cooking for you,” you pouted again, feeling exposed.

“But not cooking for yourself?” Yunho asked, making you look at him. “Why won’t you cook for yourself?”

You shrugged. You didn’t have an answer for that.

“Well, I’m not a good cook, but I’ll see what I can do…” he got up and you told him he did not have to, that what he did for you tonight was enough, but he told you to shut up and opened the fridge, taking out the kimchi and then looking through the cabinets-

“Ramyeon sounds good? That’s one thing I can cook well,” he grinned.

You nodded, getting comfortable and watching him roll his sleeves before he washed his hands in the sink, drying them with the blue bunny towel and then you stopped noticing what he was doing and instead noticed the veins on his arms, the faded scar near the elbow that probably ran up his upper arm, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck-

And those beautiful, beautiful hands that were now setting the pot on the table. You blinked, coming back to reality, and thanked him for the meal. He watched you eat for a few moments before he said, “I’m sorry you had to go through what you did today. It’s my fault.”

“Yunho,” you sighed, “It’s not.”

“It is,” he shook his head. “The detectives seemed to have created some ambiguous connection between me and their recent murder case. The victim used to be my patient, so they’ve been trying to visit me for a while but I kept putting it off- I really don’t like when they visit my workplace-”

“Of course,” you nodded. “No one would like that. You don’t have to explain it to me, Yunho. You don’t have to tell me anything-”

“Forget the rules,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I want to explain because you can’t just put yourself between me and the detectives. How could you try to protect me without knowing what’s going on? And don’t try to deny that you weren’t doing exactly that.”

You took a bite and thought about it while you chewed. Once you swallowed, you answered. “I’ve known Detective Seo for twenty years. I’ve known you for what? Four months? Five? Guess who I trust more out of the two.”

Yunho looked away, somewhat in disbelief but again, overwhelmed by the way his heart was fluttering and his stomach was in knots. “Even when I’ve given you nothing?”

“It’s enough- I don’t need to hear your life story to trust you,” you finished eating the noodles. “I know who you are, and that’s enough.”

Yunho sighed internally- Wooyoung had warned him of this. He had practically manifested it. He had told Yunho that the way he talked about you and the way he treated you were very different and he needed to start manning up and ignoring whatever he was feeling inside. That had been in the earlier months. And now?

You claimed you knew him. What did you know, really? The person who set strict rules and got angry when he thought you broke one of them and made you cry? The doctor who got angry at you for bringing a patient to his clinic and later thanking you because you saved her from something worse? The person who took you to the place he loved yet told you nothing about it? What did you really know-

“I know you,” you began and Yunho wondered if he had said those thoughts out loud. “You’re the person who I thought was an asshole but I trusted because you… you have the kindest eyes. Even when you almost stabbed me to death-”

“That’s on you overthinking-”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” you laughed. “But… you get what I mean. I don’t need to know who you were, I know who you are. The doctor who’s too busy to take care of himself and his space. The person who’s everyone’s favourite at the clinic. The house owner who’s actually quite funny but takes a while to open up. The friend who helps me with my work in so many more ways than he realises. And… the man who is surprisingly protective and caring.”

Yunho buried his face in his hands- he couldn’t look at you now. He couldn’t-

“I don’t know why you keep holding yourself back, but can I ask what prompted you to do whatever you did earlier? You didn’t have to hug me like that,” you drank the rest of the water in the glass, waiting but he didn’t look at you. “You didn’t have to call me ‘your girl’ and shoo them away. You can’t just do things like that and expect me to remain normal and pretend it didn’t happen the next day- because I’ve had enough too. I’ve had enough of you staring at me like I’m either someone you want to kill or someone you want to… do things to. Also, while we’re talking about that- and yes, I’m rambing, but you really need to stop touching me so casually- I hope you have a rule about that somewhere too-”

Yunho finally removed his hands from his face and locked eyes with you. When you didn’t look away, wondering if you were going to regret this, he got up, making your heart sink thinking you really had made an awful mistake this time-

And then he leaned down towards you and to your utter surprise, he pecked your lips gently- once, twice. And then he pulled away to lock eyes with your wide ones.

“Can I take responsibility then? For my actions?”

When you nodded without realising that you had, he smiled, going around the table and sinking down to his knees. For you. You found your hands moving of their own accord, cupping his face with almost trembling hands for the first time and running a hand through his hair, finding them softer than you had imagined. You laughed in disbelief and knelt down to kiss his forehead- you didn’t have to kneel down much thanks to him being so tall. You joined your foreheads and just let that moment sink in, waiting for him to do something but it was as if he had completely submitted himself to you.

“Yunho,” you breathed, “Won’t you kiss me?”

All Yunho wanted was to obey. He tilted his head, your lips brushing and then he brought his hands to your bare knees, sending shivers through your entire being. While he caressed the skin, he pecked your lips cautiously and you almost cried at how hesitant he was. You took it upon yourself to lock your lips with his and that was all he needed to kiss you back, immediately taking lead and kissing you almost desperately as if he had waited a lifetime for this moment. You moved your lips along his, settling in a comfortable rhythm and you realised you quite liked the position-

But Yunho had other plans. He broke apart, gripping your legs in one arm and getting up, making you latch on to him with a squeal which earned a laugh from him as he settled you on the empty kitchen counter, now able to meet your eyes better. He stared at you intently for a few moments, his arms caging you between them and brought your arms to rest on his shoulders, linking them around his neck.

“I’d say something about how it took you way too long,” you kissed the tip of his nose. “But I’m afraid you’ll think I’ve always fantasised about this and leave me here and go in your cave.”

“Never again,” he promised, capturing your lips in a slow and gentle kiss. You had all the time in the world now and a morbid part of your mind wanted to thank Detective Seo for paying a visit tonight even though you despised him. Yunho swiped his tongue across your lips and you gladly opened up for him, the kiss getting heated as his tongue explored your mouth, clashing with your tongue. You couldn’t help but marvel how you both fit with each other so well.

You didn’t know how long you made out like that. Neither did you care, but naturally, you both broke apart and shared a giggle. He opened his arms for you and you gladly hugged him- his hugs were probably your most favourite thing about life now. He laughed at how you wrapped yourself around him like a cat so that he didn’t even have to hold you, simply wrap his arms around your back as he walked to the living room but you muttered ‘my room’ and he obeyed, walking in that direction-

And halting.

“What do you want me to do? Throw you in the pool of books and make out? Might hurt a little…”

“Oh, goodness,” you twisted in his arms to see the mess that your room was in right now. “I was sorting out books because I really have no space anymore and I was going to give away some tonight-”

“But you could put them in the living room? The shelves have some space?”

You hadn’t even considered that. You looked at him. “Can I use that space?”

“I mean… you’ve taken over the whole floor anyway,” he shrugged. “What harm a few books are gonna do?”

You smacked his arm and he laughed, putting you down on the floor. “Well, I should clean my mess then. Don’t want you complaining about how unruly your housemate is.”

“I’ll help,” he insisted and you scoffed.

“There’s no space for you to set a foot-”

“Then make some.”

“Oh?” You shot him a dirty look. “No plans to leave?”

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked cockily and you shook your head, immediately shoving a few books away and making space on the rug where he settled down and pulled you down in his lap, snuggling his face in your neck.

“Tell me about these books,” he muttered, his breath caressing your neck and before you could comment on the position, he kissed your neck lazily.

Well… perhaps it was better to shut up and obey.

“They are a part of me,” you smiled, picking the nearest one and reading the title while he continued kissing and sucking at your neck. “This one I read recently. I think you’ll like it- it’s about doctors- ah.”

Yunho smiled against your neck when you squirmed in his grasp. He had been teasing your sweet spot for far too long now and finally got to hear your pretty moan. “Really? What’s it about?”

“Doctors,” you muttered, tilting your neck and he dived back in. “And the problems they face, the power dynamics- Jeong Yunho, I swear to god-”

Yunho laughed deeply against your skin, drawing away to observe the reddening spot. You tried shifting in his grasp but he held you in your position. “Tell me about another book.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed when he started peppering kisses along your shoulders. “What if I just smack you on the head with one?”

“Tsk, tsk. Already?”

You shifted in his lap successfully this time and before you could yell at him, he was kissing you on the lips again and as you melted in his hold, you tossed the book in your hand away to cup his face.

Sorting the books and cleaning the mess could definitely wait.

—-----------------------------

Though you and Yunho had crossed some obvious boundaries now, you were unsure how that would affect the rules of living in his house. You weren’t only his housemate now, so perhaps, the rules could change?

You started wondering about that after a few days. You hadn’t made anything official yet- he was still working a lot and barely had any time for himself but whenever he got home, he would find you and wrap you in his arms while he asked you about your day. When you asked him the same, he would simply smile and say something like ‘just the usual’ or ‘busy day today’.

Nothing more. He probably recognised the look in your eyes- the look that said that you wanted more. Perhaps he ignored it on purpose. Perhaps, whenever he kissed you after, it was to make up for the lack of an answer.

If you thought about it objectively… you didn’t really mind. Work is work- what could doctors really share about their work? But you knew he wasn’t simply going to work, especially when he sometimes came home looking like he had been running for miles or with blood on his clothes. Surely, doctors wore a gown or something while operating or handling patients. His lab coat never had blood on it, so why would he have blood on his clothes and why would he sometimes look like he got in a fight? He could definitely feel your apprehension even though you pretended to be okay about it.

Perhaps, he liked you because you didn’t ask. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious- now more so than ever. It wasn’t like being whatever you were to him now gave you any right to probe, but you couldn’t help pay a visit to his clinic tonight and see if he was really working a night shift- he had gone out in a rush earlier muttering something about an emergency. You only went to make sure he was okay, was what you told yourself-

It was certainly not because of your growing suspicion of what he really did. Nor was it because you wanted to double-check how Detective Seo told you that Yunho’s clinic had separate staff for night shifts and he definitely didn’t need to be present every night. It definitely wasn’t because Yeosang slipped when he accidentally told you Yunho had no shift a few nights ago when Yunho himself had told you he had one. And it definitely was not how you suddenly realised one day while writing your novel that Yunho’s answers to your odd questions were a bit too specific- like when you asked him about being stabbed in a certain location with a certain weapon and he slept on it and had a rather specific answer the next day. His answers were always a bit too detailed.

You would have ignored all of it but you found yourself inside the clinic and learned from the kind lady at the reception who thought it was cute that you came to check on him that Yunho only had one night shift a week. But according to what he told you, he had night shifts five days a week.

Just what was he doing?

You absently walked home and instead of writing, you just mindlessly cleaned the nooks and crannies in the living room, your mind too numb to think of possibilities. Perhaps, you needed to start defining things with Yunho- beginning with what your relationship was, exactly, and if it was more than housemates you both definitely needed to talk about a few things-

When you heard the door unlock, you looked at the time- it was almost 4 in the morning. You hadn’t realised how quickly time passed. Yunho entered, looking pretty much the same as he did when he left. You managed a smile and he told you he would be right back, rushing upstairs. You went to wash your hands in the meantime, wondering if you should ask him- would he be angry to learn you went out looking for him? Would he appreciate your concern, or would he shut himself away like he has always done-

“Y/n?” Yunho’s voice brought you back to your senses and you realised you had been zoning out in front of the sink, the tap still running water. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” you told him, drying your hands and going towards the kitchen to get yourself water. You needed to get a grip.

“You don’t look okay,” Yunho’s brows were furrowed in concern. “Did something happen while I was away?”

“I promise I’m fine,” you said, though you were sure your smile was still unconvincing- or maybe Yunho was just too good at looking right through you. “How was your night shift? Did you get a lot of patients tonight?”

“It was okay,” Yunho exhaled deeply. “A few. Not too busy.”

You nodded slowly. For a moment, you wondered if he was doing night shifts in a different workplace. Perhaps, he had never lied and you just hadn’t figured out that he had jobs at two different places-

“You’re staring,” Yunho commented, tilting his head in thought. You broke eye contact, scanning his clothes- as neat as when he left for ‘work’. “You didn’t meet Detective Seo, did you?”

“No, why?”

“That’s the only time I’ve seen you look like this. Come on, you’re making me worried,” Yunho took a step closer, tucking your hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” you laughed, deciding to tackle at least one thing tonight. “You’ll make fun of me or you'll shut yourself in your cave.”

“You need to stop calling it a cave,” Yunho laughed a bit.

“Until I see it, it’s a cave to me,” you shrugged. “Who knows what you do there?”

“You want to see it?” He asked, absently caressing your cheekbone and your eyes widened.

“That… is not what I meant- I’m curious, yes, but I don’t want to invite myself up there.”

“Well,” Yunho put his hands on your shoulders. “It looks horrible right now- it’s messy and if I bring you upstairs, you’ll forget you’re tired and start cleaning the mess. Some other day?”

“Whenever is okay, it’s probably boring and plain,” you said dismissively and he nodded in satisfaction.

“Then what is really weighing on your mind?”

“Shit, I thought you forgot about it,” you muttered but he wasn’t going to let you go. His grip on your shoulders tightened a fraction. “Look, I’m not trying to be that person and I really, really don’t mind how we are and what we are-”

“Get to the point-”

“What are we?”

Yunho blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“What are we?” You sighed. “I love what we are. I don’t mind it one bit, but I feel like we’re still housemates and there’s still this wall between us and if that’s how things should be… I can work with that. I just… I wish there wasn’t such ambiguity- stop grinning like an idiot, will you?”

“Well,” Yunho stifled another grin. “What do you think we are?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “That’s what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know,” Yunho shrugged, straightening and bringing you closer so you were almost flush against him. “I don’t think we’d be doing this if we were ‘just housemates’.”

“My point exactly,” you muttered. “I’m confused. What rules still apply? Can I interfere in your personal life? Can I ask you more than I should? There’s still so much I don’t know about you and sometimes I feel like you’re miles away, Yunho.”

Yunho’s heart ached- he wanted nothing more than to bare his entire soul in front of you. He had considered that seriously over the past few days. He was pretty sure if anyone in this world would understand his reasons for what he did and still want to be with him, it would be you, but what if he was wrong about you? What if he had signed himself to an inevitable heartbreak? If so, how could he ever recover?

“I’m right here,” Yunho kissed your forehead. “You can ask me anything but can I answer at my pace?”

That was enough. You nodded and he smiled, pecking your lips. “Thank you.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you told him. “And I know you’re curious about a few things too- you can ask me anything and I’ll answer at my own pace. Okay?”

Yunho couldn’t help it- he cupped your face and kissed you, wondering how you were so perfect. How could you trust him like this? He sometimes wondered if he was dreaming- there was no way you were real. And he told you that every day, just like he did now, and just like always, you smacked his arm as you blushed.

“You should tell me something else- I’m kind of tired of hearing that,” you laughed.

“Nothing else makes you laugh like this,” Yunho kissed you again, lingering. “You know I love it when you laugh.”

You kissed him back, forgetting all your worries and you felt the exhaustion wash away from your bones as he bent down to pick you up so he could kiss you better. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him take you to the living room- to the couch which was probably your favourite place in this house now, where Yunho and you would spend hours with each other.

As he settled you down on the couch, he broke apart and locked eyes with you. “Well, do you still think we’re just housemates?”

“God, you really got stuck on that one, huh?” You poked his chest. “Okay. You’re what? My boyfriend?”

Yunho’s lips parted and a smile crawled on his lips. “I kind of like the sound of that.”

“Geez, have you never been in a relationship,” you teased and he laughed out loud.

“Just not like this one, no,” he traced your lips with his thumb. “You’re… different.”

“Bet you told that to everyone before me,” you scoffed and he pecked your lips to shut you up. You smiled into the kiss, your hands wandering down his chest and stopping at his hips, snaking up his shirt on his bare skin which earned a light groan from him. You instinctively squeezed his side-

And he stopped kissing you right then. You wondered if you had done something wrong and when you drew apart, you realised he looked as if he was in pain. You frowned, your hands still there while Yunho stifled another groan and when you pressed on both his sides, he finally exhaled-

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” You whispered, drawing his shirt up without permission and gasping when you saw a big red bruise on his right side as if he had been punched.

“Y/n,” Yunho called in warning but you weren’t having any of it anymore- you pulled his shirt up and if Yunho hadn’t been bracing himself up on either sides of you to keep himself from falling on top of you, he would have stopped you, but now you were staring at his upper body in horror and worry.

You let go of the shirt and it fell down to cover his secrets. You looked at Yunho who couldn’t meet your eyes. “Won’t you let me help you? Won’t you let me take care of you?”

Yunho simply sighed, wondering what to do, what to say. He knew this day would come eventually but he hadn’t imagined it to be like this. He let you gently push him back on the couch and without a word, you went to your room. He slumped down, rubbing his face-

Of all the days, it had to be today. Had to be tonight when he made a mistake and hurt himself. You reappeared out of your room with a medical kit and settled down next to him.

“You’re the doctor, Yunho,” you said and showed him the ointments and medicines in the kit, noticing a number of scars on his body and finally getting a good look at the scar that ran up his arm all the way to the middle of his upper arm. “Tell me how to take care of you.”

Yunho passed you a look, finding the lack of expressions on your face kind of disturbing. Just what were you thinking? He sighed and took out the ointment for the bruise- one he had in his room as well and would have used had he not been distracted by you. You nodded and took the ointment, spreading it along his bruise and gently rubbing it in. Once done, you got up and inspected the rest of his upper body.

“Are you sure that’s the only place you’re hurt?”

“Yep,” he assured you. “You can relax now.”

You scoffed at that, putting the kit aside and folding your arms as you looked at him. “Look… If you don’t want me to, I won’t ask, but you’re not just a doctor. I’m right about that, aren’t I?”

When he didn’t respond, you understood. You were right, and he probably couldn’t say anything. “Do you trust me, Yunho?”

“Y/n, it’s not about trust-”

“Just tell me- do you trust me?”

He locked eyes with you. “Of course I do. If I didn’t… I would have kicked you out long ago, y/n, and I would have never....”

That seemed to satisfy you and when he found the faintest hint of a smile on your lips, he finally relaxed a bit. “I trust you, but there are things I cannot tell you- not right now.”

“I know,” you nodded. “You can stop lying about your night shifts- just say you’re going somewhere. I won’t ask until you tell me.”

Yunho blinked in surprise- just how long ago had you figured him out?

“Also… I would appreciate it if the next time you get hurt, you let me know instead of surprising me like this.”

“Do you… know something you’re not telling me, y/n?”

You smiled at Yunho. If he wasn’t so genuine with his words and his feelings, you would have demanded answers, but what you had with him was special in its own way. No questions asked wasn’t such a bad rule- because you knew that when he answered your questions, you would have to answer his too.

“Do I? I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But I have a feeling that you and I aren’t so different, Yunho.”

Yunho wished he could tell you who he was- his friends insisted he was not a ‘murderer’ like he would often call himself but a vigilante. A hero to most, an enemy to the others- especially the police who had been on his tail for a while now. How could you possibly be the same as him? He had killed people with his own hands, and though it could be argued that he only killed the worst of criminals, if Hongjoong hadn’t been there the night his parents were killed, he could very well be in prison for attempted murder or worse.

All these years, as he killed one corrupted individual after another, he was convinced that he was the one who was truly corrupted inside. He was the one who needed to meet the fate that anyone who encountered him did. His friends, especially Hongjoong, were aware that there was a twisted part inside him that took joy in the simple act of killing people- people who stole from others. Stole their loved ones, their life, their hard work. You couldn’t possibly be as bad as him, could you? There was absolutely no way-

“Stop thinking so much,” you whispered, placing your hand on his and he immediately shifted so he was holding your hand, squeezing it as if he needed some assurance. “I just want you to be careful, okay? Whatever you do… stay safe, will you?”

“How can you trust me so blindly?” Yunho asked.

“I told you, right?” You smiled. “I know who you are- at least to me. That’s enough for me.”

Yunho smiled back, burying his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your arm around his bare shoulders, burying your hand in his hair and caressing them gently. You let go of Yunho’s hand only to trace the long scar on his arm, wishing you could ask how he got it but you would wait. You kissed his temple and he sighed, nuzzling against you.

“I’m afraid…” Yunho confessed in a voice so small you were wondering if you were hearing things. “I’m afraid you’ll run away when you learn who I am.”

Your heart sank at his words. He was just like you. In all your previous relationships, you made people run away from you. You could never give them what you wanted. They would find you too secretive or too accepting. Little did they know that you were only hiding your ugly past and trying your best not to let it interfere with your life.

“You couldn’t possibly be worse than me,” you told him and that prompted him to lift his head to look at you. “I’m convinced I’m a monster. Could you love a monster, Yunho?”

Yunho took in your blank gaze as you said those words and he realised that perhaps, you were right. Perhaps, you were just like him too, with some twisted part inside you, something that had you convinced that you were a monster.

And if that was the case… he could love you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and tell you that you made him feel human even at his worst, so he leaned forward to kiss you slowly, letting you know what he felt through the way he held your waist and brought you on top of him, through the way he held you so close to him and sighed when you wrapped your arms around his, through the way he started trailing kisses everywhere on your skin. And when you gave him more, he accepted it. If that was the last time you would ever look at him and not feel horrified, he was going to make sure he made you feel loved so he forgot about all his worries and smiled at you playfully, beyond relieved when you bit your lips in excitement.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Yunho whispered, sucking at your neck- he had a thing for that certain spot, you had realised now.

“We haven’t even begun, though,” you commented and Yunho paused, considering your words. He experimentally snaked his hand up your thigh and when you only kissed his temple in response, he understood.

An invitation.

“Shall we take this to bed, then?”

You nodded, sharing an open-mouthed kiss before he got up and started going towards your room.

If only he knew that your invitation was for the same reasons as his.

—---------------------------

For all your talk about trust, you sure were walking on the fine line that marked trust from betrayal.

And if things hadn’t turned out the way they had been turning out for the past two weeks, you would have never been here. You scoffed internally as you took another turn into a dark alley, a safe distance behind Yunho so he wouldn’t notice your presence- anything to convince yourself that you were only doing this to make sure he would be safe. To make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself again-

Because you had a gut feeling that something was going to happen tonight, and your gut was never, ever wrong. Your gut had saved (or doomed, it could be argued) you two decades ago. You could trust yourself with that.

Though, again, that was debatable as well. Was it your gut that had you all nervous and hypervigilant or was it the growing suspicions about Yunho?

Because a few days ago, Detective Seo called you and requested that you visit the station. You would have ignored him had he not been so polite for once. Ultimately, the reason you visited him was because you wanted to clear his suspicions of you and get him off your tail- you had finally settled in this town at peace and you couldn’t have the detective ruining that.

And also, a small part of you wanted to learn more about why he suspected Yunho.

You discovered during your visit that you were right- your involvement in his investigation of Yunho made him suspicious of you. You learned that the reason he was so intent on having Yunho come to the station and give a proper statement was because a few of his alibis no longer held any validity- he had said something about a night shift when he had none. The detective didn’t like how the doctors and a few of the staff members around him were so uncooperative and secretive. If that wasn’t enough, the detective was still curious about the 12-inch knife in your kitchen.

He joked about how he or his colleagues didn’t own a 12-inch meat knife at home- apparently a non-professional one was usually 7 to 10 inches long. You told him that it was irrelevant but when he mentioned how his suspect had stopped using kitchen knives a few months ago and switched to a dagger of a unique built, it had you wondering-

The detective didn’t know those knives actually belonged to Yunho, which was why he was also suspecting you now. What if you told him? What if the timing of the change of the murder weapon matched?

You only asked the detective if he really believed you were capable of wielding daggers and he shook his head in denial. You then asked if he really thought the surgeon could be a suspect in his case.

“I can’t tell you what it is, but we have substantial evidence to keep an eye on him, at least. If it’s him, he’s not alone.”

And that’s what got you thinking if you were wrong about who Yunho and his friends were. Especially when only a couple days later you went to visit them at the clinic with some fresh cookies and you got a peek at the register at reception that had a schedule of all doctors and you learned that Yunho had no night shift for the rest of the week-

Only to find him lying about it and hearing the news about the murder of a renowned politician while he was god knows where.

You didn’t ask Yunho why he lied about the night shift because he had agreed not to make up that excuse again. You casually confirmed with Wooyoung if he had really been at the clinic that night and he told you he had, but you weren’t done there. You double-checked with the young girl at reception in the clinic- she was quite a fan of your cookies and now that she knew you and Yunho were close, she willingly confirmed that Yunho had indeed not been at the clinic that night. Neither had any of his friends.

You wished you could simply confront Yunho and ask but he was still hesitant. And really, you would have let everything be. You would have waited for him, but tonight?

Tonight he told you he was going to the clinic to meet up with Wooyoung and give him some company during his boring night shift. Pretty believable, but your gut twisted as soon as he stepped out and you knew that you just had to make sure that he was going to the clinic. You covered yourself with a jacket and scarf, grabbed the keys and wore your shoes-

Changing your mind and going to the kitchen to grab a little something before finally stepping out.

And that’s how you got here, one bus ride and a good walk later, deep in some abandoned part of the town following Yunho through the alleys until he stopped abruptly, making you take a few steps back and hide yourself in a corner. Strangely, Yunho seemed to be inspecting the area. What for, you didn’t know. He looked around and checked if the gate at the end of the alley was really locked. After thorough inspection which made you wonder if he was looking for someone or something, he started walking in your direction, probably to leave. You discreetly slid down and away so he would cross you without looking in your direction, and thankfully, he did.

You sighed, wondering if tonight had been a waste in which case your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you sleep for a good few days unless you came clean to Yunho. You were just following him back because you were pretty sure you would get lost otherwise when you spotted another man at the opposite end of the street. Instinctively, you hid again and waited for the man to continue along that street and get out of your way-

Except he turned in the street in Yunho’s direction.

You made a face and decided to fall behind the two- surely the man would be on his own way soon, except there was something odd about the way he was walking-

He was walking just like you had been- short, quick and silent steps, a good distance behind Yunho to avoid encountering him. Was he following Yunho too? How did he know Yunho would be here? Had he seen you- did he know you were here? It was too dark to make out who he was.

The two turned to another street and the man kept following him even after the crossroads, confirming your suspicions that Yunho was being followed. Perhaps, Yunho had been waiting for this man when he had been looking around the alley-

A sharp glint near the man’s thigh caught your attention and with a sinking heart, you realised-

The man was wielding a weapon. Something sharp that looked an awful lot like the very knife you had hidden inside your jacket.

You froze for a few moments that you knew would cost you something. There was just too much to consider- the feeling of impending doom, the worry for Yunho’s life, the fight-or-flight response making its way to control your future actions and worst of all, the feeling that you were back where you had been when you were still a child trying to protect your father from a situation just like this.

And as the man’s pace quickened and the distance between him and Yunho got shorter, you let the child that had murdered a grown man to protect a loved one take over. Just like that night, you raised your knife in the air without realising when you actually took it out of your jacket. And just like that time, you found yourself running towards the man- this time, experienced and calculating. You would have to congratulate yourself for being so certain about what you were doing-

“Yunho, watch out!”

Though Yunho recognised your voice immediately, the fear in your voice was unfamiliar and he turned around with dread pooling in his nerves, his eyes widening as he tried to process an unfamiliar face of a man with a weapon aimed at him- way too close- and then your figure, perhaps as unfamiliar this time, running towards the man. Yunho instinctively dodged the attack and before he could react further, you collided with the man, crashing on the floor with grunts.

Every nerve in your body screamed as you both clawed at each other while trying not to hurt yourselves, getting nicked here and there and before the man could actually think and overpower you, you buried the length of your knife between his collarbones, effectively disarming him and the man’s eyes widened as he whimpered in pain-

No.

“Y/n,” Yunho almost cried as he sank down next to you, spotting the horror in your eyes and in that moment, he knew only one thing- that he couldn’t let you burden yourself with having to live with blood on your hands. He inspected the stab on the man’s neck, sucking in his breath when he realised the knife in your hand was from your kitchen- the same damned knife he had spilled blood with. The man coughed blood and your grip on the knife finally loosened as you realised just what you had done.

While you remained frozen in your spot, Yunho realised that the man was beyond help though with the current position of the knife in his throat, he was going to bleed to death for a long while before he could let go. So Yunho made a decision and gently unwrapped your hands from the knife, squeezing them to make you look at him.

“Y/n? Are you with me?”

His voice felt miles away, drowned by the ringing in your ears and you could only blink. Yunho took a deep, shaky breath. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t know how long you stared at him but he gently shook your shoulder, making you crawl away from the shivering body of the man. “Y/n, do you trust me?”

This time, you did hear him and you nodded slowly, still in a trance. “Yunho- save him, please-”

Yunho had his answer. He slid the knife out of the spot between his collarbones only to stab him on another spot in his neck not far from the original and you watched in horror as the man groaned once before falling limp. Yunho put a hand over the wounds as if that could possibly stop the bleeding and then he asked you to take off your scarf. You weren’t sure you heard him right but with his free hand he started to unwind the scarf from around your neck. You didn’t make any effort to help him- you simply watched him wrap your scarf around his neck to stop further bleeding-

“He’s dead,” you practically spat out. “Why do you need to stop the bleeding now?”

Yunho didn’t answer. Once his hands were free, he bent down to pick the man and started walking back to the alley, stopping when he realised you weren’t following him. He turned to look at you, eyes void of emotions. “Aren’t you going to come?”

You got up with immense struggle, looking around- why was there no one to help? Why was this abandoned area so empty in the middle of the night? You grabbed the man’s knife and started following Yunho, your hands and legs shaking uncontrollably and each step got harder to take. When you reached the spot Yunho had checked out earlier, he laid the man’s body down and you finally sank to the floor, drawing your knees to your chest and trying to breathe. You could hear him talking into the phone to someone, giving them the address.

All you knew was that you had killed someone. Again. And this time, your father wasn’t there to protect you and take the blame. This time, you weren’t a child who needed such protection. You were an adult and you had killed-

You felt arms wrap around your figure and you finally let out a shaky sob though your eyes remained dry. Yunho rubbed your back and asked you to breathe with him, drawing away and rubbing your cold hands in his to share some warmth- though his were just as cold. You could only see the blood on your hands, on your clothes-

“Y/n, listen to me carefully,” his deep voice echoed inside you. “You didn’t kill the man, okay?”

“You’re lying,” your teeth were chattering with cold and fear now. “I killed him.”

“No,” Yunho shook his head. “You protected me. I killed him.”

“You can’t do this to me, not you too,” you finally cried. “Not you too. I killed again, and this time, I’ll take responsibility.”

Yunho took a moment to process what you had said as he scanned your figure- everything finally started to make sense though there was still so much he needed answers to. “Listen to me. You didn’t deliver the killing blow. I did. I’m the one who killed him.”

“You and I both know he would have died anyway,” you locked eyes with him and Yunho knew then that it was no use trying to convince you that you weren’t to blame. “You just made it easier for him.”

Yunho didn’t respond to that. He simply kept rubbing your hands as if that could turn back time and make things right. When you heard the sound of footsteps, you got tense and almost panicked but Yunho assured you it was just his friends and everything would be okay soon. You watched Wooyoung and Mingi assess the situation, not reacting much and numbly, you let Wooyoung accompany you to his car. You kept looking for Yunho though and Wooyoung smiled a bit despite the situation, assuring you that he would be right there.

While on your way, Wooyoung made sure you were warm and made you eat a few bites of chocolate, telling you you would need it. You asked him how he was so calm right now- was it not his first time that something like this happened?

“Something tells me it’s not your first time either, y/n,” he simply responded and you fell silent after that.

You shut your eyes and let your mind wander about what was going to happen next. Sure, you felt a sense of security being around Yunho- he had done something you could never have imagined- but there was still a small part of you thinking about how this was the end for you. You were going to go to prison. Perhaps you would meet the same fate as your father. Your mother and brother would certainly be pleased to see you behind bars. You could hear their laughter and the ‘I told you so’ even now-

“Y/n?” Yunho’s gentle voice made you open your eyes. “We’re here.”

You looked at ‘here’ which was another abandoned area with dimly lit streets and a warehouse which Hongjoong was unlocking the doors of. Yunho helped you out of the car- you definitely needed that since your legs were still wobbly. You noticed that not everyone made it back and you asked him where they were.

“They’re taking a detour- they’ll be here in a few minutes.”

You nodded and followed him inside and if the circumstances would have been different, you could have appreciated how well organised the inside of the warehouse was, looking like a home with couches and games and fridge and enough space to do anything and everything. It looked like a hideout and you smiled faintly before sitting on the couch. Hongjoong brought you beer and you gladly accepted, taking a few gulps and letting Wooyoung wrap a blanket around you, letting Yunho clean the blood off your hands and spotting the cuts littering your hands and arms. Now that there was enough light, he could spot the numbness in your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, suddenly breaking out of your trance. “Are you? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” he breathed. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good, I…” you looked at your scarred hands. “I’m… okay.”

“Y/n,” Yunho took your hands in his again and you met his worried eyes. “How did you know? Why did you follow me?”

“I… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” you sighed and he squeezed your hands. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright, but I need to know what happened tonight so I can help you, okay?” Yunho said and you nodded, straightening.

“I knew you had no night shift today- I saw in the register by chance,” you told him and he nodded. “So when you said you were going, I knew you were lying. I would have let you go, trust me, but… I had a feeling something was about to happen. Or maybe… maybe I was just too suspicious- because Detective Seo said if it was you, you weren’t alone-”

“You met Detective Seo again?” He asked, his tone still gentle but you spotted Seonghwa looking at you apprehensively. “Why?”

“He called me to the station a few days ago because he was suspicious of me- the knives,” you let out a nervous laugh and Yunho nodded, understanding. “He told me his suspect’s murder weapon and method had changed and the timing was just a bit off. He knew it couldn’t be me but we have history so he just needed to make sure.”

“Did you tell him about Yunho- or anything?” Seonghwa asked.

Yunho gently warned Seonghwa but you told him it was okay. “He doesn’t know the knives belong to Yunho and he is just suspecting him because apparently your alibis are invalid now. That’s all he’s got on you, actually.”

They all sighed in relief and you heard the doors open, the rest of them joining you and exchanging drinks. “You’re all oddly calm about all of this.”

“We’re doctors,” Yeosang commented. “We have to be calm at times like this.”

“You’re oddly calm too,” San noticed.

“That’s what I said,” Wooyoung quipped in and Yunho asked you if the boys were overwhelming you but you shook your head no.

“Can you tell me what happened next? Why did you follow me?”

You took a deep breath. “I said Detective Seo and I have history. When I was little… about two decades ago, I… we lived in a small town, the four of us. My father was in debt and he often had to run away from gangsters and loan sharks. One day, he got cornered by one of the men and he had a gun- he looked like he was about to shoot my dad. My mom was protecting us- me and my brother, but I… I did what I could to protect him. I went to the kitchen, grabbed the first knife I saw and stabbed that man multiple times in the back.”

“Oh, y/n,” Yunho’s voice sounded pained and you heard a chorus of sucked breaths and exhales. Your hands started trembling again and Yunho squeezed them, planting a kiss to your knuckles which just made tears pool in your eyes.

“I did that to protect him,” your voice was just as shaky as your hands now. “That man died and my father ended up taking all the blame to protect me from the police. Detective Seo was in charge of that case and he always suspected me- especially because my mother and brother started hating me for putting my dad in such a situation. He found all of it odd. So tonight… I had a feeling just like that night- like something bad was about to happen. Or maybe I’m just making up that excuse to cover the fact that I betrayed your trust and followed you to see just what you were up to-”

“No,” Yunho embraced you, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Even if you followed me because you were suspicious, you were right to do so. I shouldn’t have lied about the night shift- anyone would have suspected me after that. It just slipped- it’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” you wiped your eyes, drawing away. “I shouldn’t have followed you-”

“You saved me,” Yunho smiled at you. “Your gut feeling, your suspicions… they were right. If it weren’t for you-”

“But I killed him,” you cried. “You cannot take the blame for it now.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “We’ve uh… identified the man. Yunho, you might want to tell her who you really are.”

Yunho nodded, wiping your tears away. “Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go home?”

“I think I’d like to go home… if that’s alright with you guys,” you said and the boys assured you that it was. Yunho got up and took the car keys from Seonghwa, sharing a few words with him and Wooyoung and Mingi asked you if you needed anything. You told them you were fine but you would like to be in the comfort of your own home right now and they understood.

“If Yunho bothers you too much, you can call us,” Mingi teased. “We’ll take care of him.”

“I think it’s the other way round, but thank you,” you finally laughed. “Can I ask- what will happen to that man? The body…”

“Yunho will let you know- you don’t have to worry about anything,” Wooyoung assured you and when Yunho extended his hand, you took a deep breath and took it.

You were going home, and you were finally going to learn who Yunho was.

—--------------------------

It was surreal to enter your home now, Yunho by your side and the weight of the events from the past few hours hanging over your shoulders. You both went to change first and you found yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror as you washed your face and hands. You took a few deep breaths to calm down, as best as you could manage in that moment before leaving and finding the smell of chamomile tea in the living room. Yunho motioned for you to join him on the couch and you passed a tight-lipped smile before obeying. You sipped the tea and waited for Yunho to gather his thoughts.

“When I was in high school,” Yunho finally began and you shifted towards him to watch him. “One night, a serial killer decided my parents were his next victims. He followed my mom home and killed both of them, and I… I wasn’t home- by the time I came home, he was done killing them.”

“Oh, dear,” you held Yunho’s hand. You couldn’t imagine what he must have felt.

“I saw him leaving,” Yunho sighed deeply. “Hongjoong was with me- he witnessed everything. He tried to stop me from going after the killer but I grabbed a metal rod and went after the man. He had a knife and that’s how I got this scar,” Yunho pointed at his arm. “Hongjoong saved me that night but I lost a part of me that night. A part that was human. I became almost animalistic, trying to find the killer.”

“Did you ever find him then?” You asked.

“I did, but after he died,” Yunho slumped back on the couch. “I couldn’t get my revenge. It wasn’t long after that incident. I lost my mind and was about to become the very killer I hated. Hongjoong saved me yet again- he knew that I wouldn’t stop at anything now. I was getting into a lot of fights and basically ruining my life.”

“How did he save you then?”

“He handed me a dagger and told me to do what I must with it,” Yunho admitted. “I was shocked because usually he was the one hiding anything that could become a weapon from me. But then I realised that I was only trying to protect innocent people like my parents. I would aimlessly walk the streets and help anyone who needed it.”

“That’s… very you,” you smiled and Yunho shook his head.

“I’m not a good person, though,” he said. “Somehow, we found each other, the eight of us. We select targets- corrupt politicians, rapists, offenders… especially the people who are public figures and lead double lives. We send hints to the police so they can do their job but when they don’t… we take the matter into our own hands.”

“Oh,” you frowned. “The politician a few days ago-”

“Not me,” Yunho shook his head. “Though he was my next target.”

“So you… kill them?”

“We only kill when someone is powerful enough to get away with all their crimes,” Yunho admitted and your heart sank dangerously- hearing it from his own mouth now, it finally started to feel real.

“Isn’t that… okay?” You wondered. “The police can’t do anything and they would only cause further harm if they are alive.”

“Yes, but…” Yunho tucked your hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t enjoy it so much, should I? I think I’m twisted like that, y/n. I feel no remorse.”

You looked at him- how could you tell him that you understood? That you were okay with that? He would tell you over and over again that it was wrong, because he knew that too. You knew that too, yet…

“It’s kind of ironic then, that you all are doctors, right?” You finally said and he coughed, making you laugh a little- more in disbelief than in amusement. “So all your night shifts…?”

“We meet up at the warehouse to plan and work on new cases,” Yunho said.

“And the man that I…”

“We identified him- the boys are digging up further but we’re suspecting he’s the copycat killer.”

“The copycat killer?” You repeated in disbelief. “Copying who- oh.”

Yunho pursed his lips guiltily. “Those kitchen knives… they were murder weapons. Now you know why I got so angry when you used them to cook.”

“Oh, goodness-”

“Don’t worry, I sanitised them,” he said as if that could make things better. “When I stopped using them, someone kept murdering people with similar weapons. And not just carefully selected scum- innocent people. It was why Detective Seo suspected me at first and then let me go easily because it just didn’t match. He probably figured out that someone is copying the real killer.”

You took a deep breath. “I killed… a serial killer?”

“Yes,” Yunho held your hands, making you face him. “Do you know how badly the events of tonight could have turned out?”

“But he was going to kill you,” you said. “He had it all planned- he was waiting for you, Yunho. You could have been seriously hurt tonight- do you realise that?”

“I can’t believe you’re still worried about me,” Yunho almost cried. “Do you have any idea what went through my head when I saw you throwing yourself in the way to protect me… I thought I was going to lose you, y/n. Why did you do that?”

“I can’t lose you,” you simply said. “It felt like I was back to being that kid trying to protect my father. Why did you kill him without knowing who he was? Why did you try to take the blame, Yunho? Do you know how scared I was when you did that?”

When Yunho didn’t respond, his eyes tearing up, you continued. “I thought it was happening all over again. You would take the blame and I would have to live with the guilt. I’ve lived with guilt for far too long, Yunho. My father… he never made it out of prison. He was never a criminal and I guess the other prisoners found out, and they… they killed him. My mother and brother never forgave me after that. Do you think I could live with something like this again?”

Yunho wiped his eyes. “I understand, y/n, I really do,” he nodded. “But you have to understand that I was scared for you tonight. You shouldn’t have done any of that- the police will find the man’s body with all his crimes soon, but even if he was someone innocent, you shouldn’t have done that-”

“I did that to protect you,” you smiled. “What’s so hard to understand about that? Just like you delivered the killing blow to protect me, yeah? Why did you do that?”

“Because I love you,” Yunho breathed. “And I couldn’t bear to see that broken look in your eyes.”

“But we’re both broken in our own ways,” the tears finally rolled down your cheeks at his confession and he laughed a little, wiping them away as he cupped your face. “Is that why you’ve been so distant? So unapproachable? You thought you were broken and no one could love you?”

When Yunho nodded, you shook your head. “Well, I might be just like you then. And I love you for who you are. I love you for the way you tried to protect me, and I love you for still loving me when I told you who I am.”

Yunho finally relaxed and laughed, bringing you in for a hug and you got in his lap, wrapping your limbs around each other. You hugged him good and tight, telling him that he didn’t have to be so guarded anymore- he could be himself with you. He kissed you and told you that you could stop being so scared as well. You found yourself content in his embrace as you both shared your pasts and concerns, assuring each other that everything would be okay and helping each other process the events of tonight, Yunho treating the various places you got nicked and patching you up. You were still scared and anxious but he was there for you, holding you even as you fell asleep.

There was no place he would rather be anyway.

—----------------------------

“The snake in the suit was cornered now. With a grim realisation, he wondered if he should have listened to the lanky cop on his case that he couldn’t even bother to remember the name of– he probably meant well when he suggested the snake be careful now. What would the snake need to be afraid of? The snake was a predator. It only needed to worry about finding prey.

However, the predator had become the prey now, defenceless in front of the masked spider who wielded his weapon of justice- a beautifully carved dagger with a golden hilt. For the first time in his life, the snake wished it had been a gun instead so his end would have been quick. However, just like the snake had enjoyed wearing the face of justice to the public while circulating drugs to the desperate, the spider enjoyed wearing no mask when he prosecuted his targets. The spider had one purpose to serve- so why not enjoy it?

The spider leaned into the snake’s ears, holding the tip of his dagger under the snake’s chin as he whispered, “I sent you countless warnings, didn’t I? I told you what fate you would meet if you continued down this road. Prison would have been a playground for you compared to the hell I’m about to show you.”

Any ramblings of mercy went up the spider’s head- he couldn’t hear anything anymore. With a kick to the snake’s stomach, he made him sink to his knees before he swiped the dagger along his cheekbone, producing a spurt of blood. The snake let out a choked whimper and the spider cocked his head, wondering which part of his body to ruin next– hey, y/n… I’m pretty sure it’s not that deep.”

“It’s fiction, Wooyoung,” you simply winked but Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it.

“Yunho, tell me, did you really cock your head and wonder which part of him you’d like to ruin next?”

Yunho only bothered shooting Wooyoung a dirty look in between arguing with San and Jongho about a recent case they had at their clinic- something about how to perform a specific type of stitch that would be seamless.

“What do you think, Yeosang?” Wooyoung elbowed the man next to him. “Don’t you think she’s overdoing some of it?”

“Well, what do you want me to write? ‘Yunho went and killed the politician who had been circulating drugs all around the province’. Plain and simple like that?”

“I think she writes gore to cope,” Yeosang commented. “I’ve been seeing a pattern and- wait, was I not supposed to point that out?”

You looked at Mingi for help who looked moments away from bursting into laughter. “You might want to switch your psychiatrist, y/n.”

“I think I’m good with you,” you grimaced at Yeosang who looked like a deer caught in headlights. “This one should stick to the kidney stuff instead of treating the mind.”

“You heard her,” Mingi clapped, finally bursting out laughing. “Stick to being a nephrologist.”

“I don’t even know how people can have you as their psychiatrist,” Yeosang narrowed his eyes at Mingi and you shook your head in amusement- this banter wasn’t new. “What do you tell them? This too shall pass?”

Wooyoung snorted at that while Mingi raised his finger at him, trying to come up with a retort but failing and sulk-walking to Yunho, resting his head against his shoulder. You smiled at how Yunho naturally adjusted to have both of them in a comfortable position while continuing arguing with the Chois.

It had been a couple of months since that fateful night. You were still trying to process most of what happened that night and the boys were always there to help you with that, going above and beyond. While at first you had been apprehensive of them- rightfully so- now they were almost like family to you. You found that all of them were extremely hardworking and ambitious, but also very gentle and kind. Or perhaps, you were receiving special treatment as Yunho often joked.

Yunho gave you all the time and space you needed to sort your thoughts out while continuing being there for you- you were amazed at how good he was with that balance. He never let you feel overwhelmed or alone. He answered all of your questions about him and he just knew when you wanted to talk about your own feelings. He would ask you what you were afraid to find the answers to and then help you navigate through the tangled web that your thoughts were. When he suggested you go to Mingi for ‘therapy sessions’, you asked him if he genuinely thought you needed therapy and if Mingi was really the right person to go considering his role in what they did.

“I mean… Mingi is sort of my therapist too,” Yunho admitted to your surprise. “One thing about him is that he understands. No matter how sick or twisted you think you may be, he understands and he guides you to your own solution to that. Surprisingly, he’s the one who helped me overcome my rage and trauma of my parents, not Hongjoong.”

That really got you thinking and when you went to your appointment with Mingi in his clinic, he asked you what role you would like him to play- a stranger and just a therapist, or who he really was. You preferred the latter and soon, you found yourself looking forward to going to those sessions. You could now talk about what happened with your father without feeling an immense sense of guilt because even though all this time you knew it was not your fault, you simply hadn’t made peace with that. Mingi also helped you realise that what they did- the ‘vigilante’ stuff- it wasn’t lawful. It might even be wrong and you needed to acknowledge and remember that.

And you did. So when Seonghwa and Hongjoong came to you with an odd proposition, you took your time thinking about it. You spent a few days away from everything, back in your hometown to visit your mother and brother and this time, you could actually talk back to them when they mocked you about going to your father’s grave when, according to them, you were his murderer. That time away helped you sort through the final knots in your mind.

And when Yunho came back home that day to the smell of a freshly cooked meal in his house, he had to take a moment for himself. He spread his arms as soon as he saw you and you crushed him in a hug, giggling like kids. You were back in his arms and that was all that mattered to him. You informing him that you agreed to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s proposition was a bonus.

“She’s a crime-gore fiction writer, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong finally said. “You can’t expect anything less from her. Besides, the details make it look less believable, which means less people will suspect that what she writes is not wholly fictional.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Good one by the way, Yeosang.”

“Yeah, I was going to say that,” Hongjoong laughed. “I once went to Mingi too. He told me that exact line and that’s when I decided I didn’t really need therapy.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that,” Yeosang laughed. “No wonder he’s sulking so much.”

“He’ll be fine,” Seonghwa chuckled and you didn’t miss the adoration in his eyes as he glanced at Mingi. Seonghwa turned to you, closing your book and placing it on the table in front of him. “I think you did a great job. It’s a very engaging story and the facts are present for the wise ones if they can connect the dots. I quite like it, y/n.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I owe it to you both. You’re really good editors- it’s too bad you both refuse to take credit.”

“It would only raise suspicion,” Hongjoong dismissed. “You’re the writer. We’re only, uh… inspirations?”

“Inspirations,” Wooyoung repeated. “I know exactly who would be pleased to hear that. Our favourite detective.”

“I heard from a source that he spent two hours trying to convince his coworkers that what you were writing wasn’t fiction,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s been quite silent lately.”

“The excitement must have dulled now- it’s been weeks since this book has been out,” you said. “I think he might be starting to take pointers now. He texted me a few days ago asking which politician he should keep an eye out for next.”

“What did you say?” Yeosang asked.

“I told him the next book could be about a detective who refuses to leave a poor girl alone,” you grinned, the group bursting into a chorus of laughter. “He enjoyed that joke, actually. I think he’s warming up to me now.”

“He better not,” Yunho finally joined, putting his hands on your shoulders from behind you. “I don’t want him obsessing about what kitchen tools we use these days. Shall we go home now?”

You nodded, saying goodnight to the boys and exiting the warehouse with Yunho. A bike ride later in the chilly night, you were home and just like always, grinning as you entered- you still loved the bike rides.

“Oh, tomorrow’s Sunday,” you clapped, suddenly remembering. “We get to sleep in. What do you wanna do tonight? Movie?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Yunho pretended to think, a grin creeping up on his face as he tackled you in a back hug and swung you around once, making your laugh echo in the house. “I think I’ll skip.”

“What’s got you so mushy tonight?” You asked- Yunho was swinging you both back and forth, his cheek resting against yours.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “I just still can’t get used to the fact that you’re real.”

You chuckled at that- you knew that Yunho absolutely loved the sight of you getting along with his friends, working with them, and actually supporting them. You insisted it was because the world really needed less criminals prowling around and while Yunho agreed, he also knew that part of the reason you agreed in the first place was because of him and he told you that he sometimes couldn’t believe that you could love him despite what he did.

You only told him once that a sick part of you definitely enjoyed killing those men if that meant you got to protect your loved ones. He remembered what you said- that everyone had something ugly like that in them- they just hadn’t been desperate enough to realise it yet. And thanks to you, Yunho was discovering a new side of himself- someone passionate and gentle and human. Sure, he had been that with his friends before, but with you, it was definitely different and new.

“Says the 6 foot tall handsome doctor slash biker slash vigilante. It can’t get hotter than that,” you teased.

“Bet you moved in because of that.”

“Maybe I did,” you teased. “Wasn’t it the best decision you made, agreeing to let me move in?”

Yunho thought about it for a few moments, humming to himself. “I could think of a few better decisions I’ve made-”

You smacked his arm, getting out of his grasp and muttering you were going to bed first and Yunho laughed loudly at your antics, following you as you walked towards the stairs and when you noticed him, you sped up, giggling when he started running after you. You barely made it to his room when he had you in his arms again and was peppering kisses all over your face.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “The best decision I made was probably letting Detective Seo rattle you out while I stood outside and listened.”

You gasped loudly. “You did all of that just to have an excuse to kiss me, didn’t you?”

“Who knows?” Yunho shrugged teasingly. “Might not have gotten a better chance.”

“Come on, say it,” you started unbuttoning his shirt. “When exactly did you fall for me?”

“Let’s see…” he thought about it while you took off his shirt and ran your hands across his toned chest, tracing all his scars like you always did. “Could have been when you scolded me about the boots and the water trail and ordered me to use the bunny towel.”

“Sheesh, you’re that easy?”

“Yeah, I’m simple like that,” Yunho muttered before drawing in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. “It’s the little things you did that made me a mess way before you defended me with all your might.”

“That was the first time you laughed,” you smiled at the memory, turning him around so you could make him sit on his bed. You got in his lap and he squeezed your thighs in appreciation. “I think you had me right there too.”

Yunho shook his head at your confession and you grinned, pushing him to make him lie down. He loved it when you did that and took your time appreciating him, kissing all his scars and massaging his scalp as you drove him a little crazy, rolling your hips on his crotch suggestively once in a while. And he let you take your time because once he took charge, once he flipped you so you were under him and let his hands run all over your body as he kissed every inch of it, and once you were skin to skin-

That’s when you were done for.

4K notes View Post

zhangyi-johee

5 months ago

violet crazy | jyh

pairing: psycho!jeong yunho x wife!reader AU: yandere au, modern au word count: 14.5k warnings: yandere themes, violence, sexual assault, strong language mentions of: alcohol, substance abuse, paranoid schizophrenia, abuse, neglect. (mc and side characters are referred to by their surname, not forename, apologies for any grammar errors)

masterlist

There must have been a divine current in the air that subdued her to fall in love with Jeong Yunho. An ethereal essence that led her to sway into the forsaken lands, a push that had lured her into the forbidden depths of his insanity. For he was a deceitful soul, born with an angel's face wrought with the heart of a devil. It should have not surprised her, when had men ever been purely good beings?

Despite his obviously charismatic demeanour, affirmed by the long bridge of his nose, the smooth curve of his plump cheeks, his pink lips and wide-brown eyes feigning curiosity and innocence. Or his evidently tall stature, and pleasant airs, attractive smile: he was very much a deceitful man. So much so that when Jue first glanced her eyes in his direction; as his wife she found herself reminiscing ignorance and dismissal. If only she had not given into his toxic wiles. If only she had not succumbed to him.

He's a thing of beauty, a being crafted from the essence of light; an angel drawn from the depths of heaven. It was enough to get drunk on his illustrious beauty, falling in love was a sin. What ghastly misdeed had she committed that she had been conserved to such punishment? What crime of her past life was she now paying penance for? It must have been something bleeding with horror that Jeong Yunho had chosen her to be his dutiful subject.

They stand outside the library, the cool wind tousling his soft hair as he pushes the thin-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Her arms wrap around herself to keep herself warm, her jacket is too thin and worn to do the job anymore. Myeong stands with her, his classmate from law school, whilst he's standing with San and Yeosang. Yunho is supposed to be arguing with Yeosang about how Psychology is a science, he's almost tempted to give up with his eyes tightly fixed on her.

"Jue would agree with me." Yeosang pompously declares, huffing as he shoves his stethoscope into his bag. Typical STEM student narcissism, though he stares at his best friend in confusion. He's heard that name before but can't help but think where he's heard it. "The girl you've been staring at like a weirdo for the past five minutes, did you think we didn't notice?" San and Yeosang snicker at him, shaking their heads as they call for Myeong. Myeong sends San a look of disgust as she ambles over with her friend he's only caught a few times in passing. He thinks she's gorgeous but Yunho's too bashful to pluck up the courage to talk to her.

Her heart flutters at the sight of him clad in a formal blue shirt and tailored black trousers that completely juxtaposed San’s casual wear. Though right now, Jue is not sure if she is supposed to hate him as Myeong hates San to the core right now. It's something like he's her academic rival and for the past semester San has been scoring higher than her.

“Fuck you, and fuck your 89%.” Myeong scolded, she's not even sure why she bothers with him anymore. It's Yeosang, the middle-man, who's practically stuck, choosing between the two of his friends.

“Myeong, it’s one percent, goddam it. It’s not the end of the world.” But nobody could understand how succeeding was exhausting. Pouring herself over textbooks and questions on late nights, eating less so there would be more time to study, spending hours in the library and feeling terrible for time not spent revising. In all fairness, it was the end of the world for Myeong. Baring her teeth, the law student is dragged away by San, conversing in a heated argument. Yeosang disappears in less than a minute too, claiming he's late to Clinical Skills, but not before quickly embracing her. In the end it was just herself and Yunho who, tentatively, follows after as she sits under the large oak tree.

"Hi, I-uh." Yunho stuttered over his words as her doe eyes stared up at him. "Can I sit next to you?" He asked hopefully, heart palpitating violently in his chest. After nodding her head, dubiously, he slumped to the ground next to her as if there wasn't enough grass, or enough benches stretching out for miles awaiting for his graceful figure to bless the earth beneath his feet. It was silent between them as they intently stared at their respective friends fighting.

“I feel like I’m watching a K-Drama." She stated, breaking through the abrupt air as they both pulled out their lunches from their bags. Flickering her eyes towards him, she sought a delightful grin form across his beautiful features.

“Sponsored by Subway.” He joked presenting his subway sandwich as if it was a trophy. Giggling, she shook her head huffing as Myeong looked at San disinterestedly. "It's honestly so stupid, both of them. They both think they're better than everyone else." Humming in agreement, Jue subtly directed her gaze to him again tired of the occasional chirping of crickets rattled in her ears.

"Would you agree Psychology is a science?" Her head snaps towards his, mirroring the leaning in of his own head. A smirk falls on her lips, she loves this question.

"No." He's stunned, scowling as he realised it's two against one and San refuses to give his opinion on the topic; he left science a long time ago. "Science is a study of the natural world. Psychology is composed of biology but is not raw science it itself." He ponders her argument for a second. Her look reads one of a victory, happily munching away at her sandwich, as Yunho is rendered completely silent. Though he can't tell if he has just given up with arguing altogether, there was a figment within him that told him to bow to her every word, follow her every lead as if she was the beacon of light guiding his way through the darkest of tunnels.

There was also something so celestial about Jue that stemmed deeper than her quick wit. It roots were deeper than her undeniable beauty, there was a fragment of her which magnetised Yunho’s frenzied soul. Every remnant of him desired her in a way he had never desired for anything before. Faithfully, he believed she was born to be plastered by his side so as he sunk to his knees in Mass he prayed for his omnipotent God for her and her alone. She admired him too, though she didn't fail to notice how the smile on his face would falter when she laughed with San or playfully ballroom danced with Yeosang.

Jealousy, perhaps. Maybe he likes me.

After all, a little delusion didn't hurt anyone.

In the dull autumn evening, the streetlights began to flicker as the days became shorter. The laughter of children could be heard down the street as they escaped from the shackles of hell (school), dashing towards their homes. Studying in the autumn and winter months was particularly exhausting. With the sky losing its colour too quickly, no one wanted nothing more than to crawl home to their beds and slip under the covers. A false irritability roamed through her, as Yunho dragged her to the derelict convenience store off-campus as a big man like him needed as much food as he could get his hands on. There's an assignment due in two days, an exam in about two weeks with so much content and dealing with a demanding six-year-old and fifty-something-year-old is difficult.

Yunho also wants to know why all the kids at the local infant school think that she’s the mother of their favourite classmate.

"Oh, probably because it's just me, my younger brother and my dad. Mum left a while back, she has two boys now. I think?" She explained to him, as he couldn’t help but let his inquisition get the best of him.

"Why did she leave?" He asked softly, staring down at her under the dim lights of the convenience store. The delicate hum permeated into the solemn air, replaced by a sense of dismissal; Jue shaking her shoulders with disinterest.

"I don't know, she just didn't like us. I still see her around, Mum lives close to the university, actually." He wanted to follow her to ends of the earth as she aimlessly traipsed along the length of the aisle. "I still talk to her, help her around the house, steal her concealer." A sad smile painted across his features, the urge to just enamour her in his arms. God knew she deserved to be held in such a sincere way, that for the first time in her life she wanted to be held in a way that didn't feel like her skin was on fire.

“You’re really pretty.” Yunho blurted out.

Oh.

A faint blush tickled her cheeks as his ears heated red with embarrassment, the sudden proclamation instigating her to suppress a fit of laughter.

“Ok Yunho, what do you want? Help with statistics?” Her fingers danced across the aisle of packaged goods, each too expensive for her to buy. In a desperate attempt to avoid his stern gaze, she searched for the cheapest price tag.

“I’m being serious, you are very pretty.”

“I’m not Myeong pretty.”

“No you’re not.” She had no reason to be offended at that, it was a cold, hard fact that she had just accepted growing up. Myeong had always been the one boys wanted to talk to, be friends with, take out on dates and invite to parties. Jue had just been her quiet shadow that one would occasionally acknowledge. 'Oh, you're here too' as her friend tries to instigate them to include her. “You’re prettier. Smarter, yes she works hard but you work harder and at times I feel like it’s selfish that she overlooks that. You care a lot, maybe even too much, about other people more than yourself. So, you don’t have the right to stand there and say that you’re beneath her when you’re not. You’re on another plane that even she can’t reach.” His words had stunned her to the core, a quietude fell amongst them as his literature sunk into her skin her gaze tore away from the price tags to him. Her eyes brimmed with a sense of validation and adoration. Yunho stood firmly opposite her, his words were like a sworn oath he would take with him to the grave.

“Thank you. Nobody has ever said that to me before.” Her gratitude was sincere, bestowed from the depths of her heart and laid at his feet as if he was an emperor of ambitious lands and she was his follower.

“Well then they must have been blind. Because heaven knows how gorgeous you are.” With a breath lodged in her throat, she held tightly onto the shelves to stop herself from falling straight into his arms. To stop herself from pressing her lips tightly against his, to stop herself from devoting her life to him.

A weak soul she was, for she did it anyway. His touch softened the symphony of yearning trembling through her bones. The yearning that stemmed from years of neglect, all of the pent up love but nowhere to project it. Her knight, her lover, had arrived from distant lands to soothe the persisting ache of her vulnerable soul. When he went down on his knees, it took her less than a second to say 'yes', for she had already granted him every fibre of her being and became his dutiful supplicant upon a single sight of him.

Mr Jeong, a respectable criminal defence lawyer spent a majority of his time either in the office, or in the court of law, came home always around half five in the evening. Whereas his wife, Mrs Jeong (née Jue), worked as an engineer designing and processing equipment for manufacturing chemical products. She'd arrive an hour earlier on his command. The couple were a diligent pair, preceding their reputations as the best workers in their industries. After a long day of living up to their employer's expectations, Mrs Jeong came home to dreary night of living up to her husband's expectations.

Mrs Jeong couldn’t believe it took her to marry Yunho to realise how suffocating he really was. It took her too long to realise, his innocent face was a mask; beneath it lay a vicious, malformed creature who was self-conceited, rude and dissatisfied with those around him. Though it was particularly hard to prove, especially to herself at times. There came a period of love woven in between his callousness in such a subtle way that had her believing she was deserving of his aloof behaviour. Nights where he'd kiss away her tears, hold her hand and make promises to never lash out at her again. Now, three years into their marriage the fine line between his anger and love became so blurred that each pernicious trait went overlooked. There was also the notion of children suspended in the air, that she had tried her hardest to avoid, which her husband was constantly earnest to bring into a conversation.

They both slumped onto the sofa, the whirring of the television emptied into the room as he ran his slender fingers through her. Soft sighs and sweet hums permeated the restraint of their married home, despite its air of suffocation there was a paradoxical sense of amenity in the idea that they were there for each other.

“What do you think about a few children?” Yunho inquired, staring intently as she gradually shifts the position of her body to face him. Holding back a weary sigh, her fingers trace over the bridge of his nose, the smooth curvature of the soft cheeks and his sharp jawline.

“Define ‘few’.” She teased; he pursed his lips, in thought, as if he had never spent an endless number of nights thinking about it.

“Like two, three? Hell, we’re stable enough to have as many as we want. It’s up to you of course, you’ll be carrying them for nine months at a time.” His fingers drew to her stomach, gliding up and down the surface of the silk fabric, like there was a child settled in there waiting to meet its father.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for children yet.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Resting her forehead on his shoulder, his hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her deeper into him; his larger frame enveloping her.

“I don’t know—what if I’m not a good mother? I was barely raised by my parents, and I didn’t do a good job of taking care of my brother, either.” Her reason was valid, yet Yunho’s persistence had made her feel that she wasn’t mature enough to understand his wants. It was ruthless, in its own sense, for she understood him in profound ways that even she couldn’t understand herself.

“That wasn’t your choice. This is your choice.” He was wrong. This wasn’t exactly her choice either, if it was up to her, they would wait a little while longer—even if it was just a day to herself to truly think about their future together. Mrs Jeong hummed to fill the empty space, her thoughts flooding with memories of her brother and their childhood. Sure she fed him, clothed him, took him to school, helped him with his homework but at the end of the day, he still did not become the man she hoped he would be. It was if that was a testament to how poor of a mother she would be. “Do you know how much it hurts, seeing everyone live the life I’ve always wanted, while I’m questioning if my wife still has feelings for me?”

“Is this not the life you wanted, with me? There’s more to life than being fucking parents.” Reaching for the cushion beside her, she threw it against his head. “You’re not even mentally stable enough to treat me like a human being, god knows what a child means to you.” Wrangling away from his grip, his wife stalked out of the room, the slam of the bedroom door reverberating off the narrow hallways of their home.

The afternoon light had dimmed, significantly, the sun dropping into the sky to be replaced by the moon. Her eyes had wavered, opening and shutting, occasionally, as an obscure sense of guilt tugged at her. Perhaps she should have not been so crude, there were many more sincere ways to reason with Yunho however- at times- he seemed heedless to her concerns. It was always what Jeong Yunho wanted and never his wife. She couldn't really put her finger on how, or why he changed, it just happened so drastically. The door creaked open, her wide eyes fixing shut as he sauntered in the room. With the bed dipping beside her, he lifted up the covers to shuffle by her side; pink lips moving closer to her ears.

He knew she wasn't asleep.

“Don’t hit me again, even if it’s with pillow.”

“It’s not like it hurt you.” She grumbled, dragging the comforter over her shoulders, a surge of warmth glissaded over her body. A discontented sigh escaped from his lips, snaking his arms around her waist he nestled closely against her, the heat from his body radiating onto her. On instinct, her entire figure shifted to embrace him closely within her arms.

“Oh, are we friends now?” He teased, gently lifting her chin so she could bore her eyes into his.

“You’re my personal radiator. Nothing else." He grinned, as her fingers nimbly ran through his hair.

“I love you so much, darling. I just wish you tried to understand me.” Humming into his chest, her eyes fluttered to a close falling deep into a peaceful slumber within her lover’s arms.

Once again, she’s met by the voicemail machine, huffing to herself as the crisp autumn air comes to grace her again. Standing outside her office building Mrs Jeong waits for her husband to pick her up; phone in hand trying desperately to reach out to Yeosang, their psychiatrist friend. He had become a lot more reserved upon beginning his new job as a doctor after completing five difficult years at medical school. Such was expected, they knew his hours would be long and exhausting though with psychiatry being his chosen speciality, they expected him to slightly return back to his sociable ways. Mrs Jeong hadn’t spoken to Yeosang in about three months and she was worried now.

After seven 'o'clock in the evening, she's settling their ironed clothes in the wardrobe, her husband in the living room on the gaming console. Momentarily, his grunts of agitation and loud groaning annoys her but Mrs Jeong is so used to his borderline childish behaviour that she dismisses the actions over her shoulder and persists with the house chores. The buzzing of her phone, immediately, tears her away from her duties in a hope that her childhood friend has returned to her call.

"Jue?" His voice is so timid and wrought with fear, her heart lurches in her chest. Rattling with anxiety, she settles the phone putting it on speaker.

"Yeo, what's wrong?" It's all so sudden. The way he erupts into a fit of sobs which empties out into the derelict bedroom, a sound she thought she would ever hear in her life. "Yeo, talk to me dear." She urges, her soft tone gently easing him out of his melancholia.

“I love you, Jue. I love you so much, I don't know how to stop." The beating of her heart had ceased, any moment now she'll be taking the Angel of Death's hand, joining her brother in a land far away from this world. "I spent so many years wishing that you wanted me too, but I’m no one in comparison to Yunho. He’s taller, more handsome than I-,” His words all bled together, body rattling as his wailing fails to stop. Yeosang sits in his bedroom, curtains draw and the lights off ready to sink into another world.

“Yeo, you are perfect in your own way. You're funny, clever. I have nothing but adoration for you." Her reassurances are menial, sycophantic, her friend thinks.

“I am a fool. A broken, drunken fool to think you’d want me.” She can't even get a word in before he continues to ramble, he just wants to speak. She just needs to listen. “Of course, there’s this girl at work that really likes me. But she’s exactly like you, I talk to her and all I can hear is the sound of your voice. She looks like you, thinks like you. Perhaps it’s the version of you that would have been mine if you’d never met Yunho.” Her eyes well up with tears, realising why Yeosang had become so withdrawn from everyone. A small piece of her imagination flickers to what her life would have been like if she never met Yunho or even married him. It's still a pretty dream but one she finds hard to fully forge and it breaks him. Her body shifts around finding Yunho paralysed by the doorway, full tears pool in his eyes.

"One last time, I love you Jue. I always have and maybe I always will until my last breath." Large tears slip down Yunho's cheek, his palm slaps to his mouth holding back the grieving dissonance of pitiful sobs. The line cuts, her phone is discarded somewhere as she reaches out for her husband but he ignores her grasp moving towards his bed. At the foot of the bed, his body racks in agony as he bawls his heart out to the moon.

“So this is why you don’t want children. You really don’t love me anymore, you’re going to leave me for Yeosang.” Crawling on the bed to him, her arms wrap around his neck rocking him back and forth.

“No, Yunho. You misheard, he said he loved me, but I didn’t say I loved him. My heart only belongs for you, dummy.” His wails are distressing, prolonging over a vast period of time, her heart waves in anticipation that he’ll never see her the same again. “There’s no me without Jeong Yunho, baby. Come on, stop crying.” His cries falter for a few seconds, collecting himself whilst he nuzzles deeper into her hold.

“You still don’t want my children though, do you?” He peers up at her through his long, wet lashes, cooing at his pouty face. Her lips travel down his face to ease him of his pain, before her arms circulate around his neck.

“Of course I do, I just want there to be you and I for now.” Tugging him under the covers with her, his hands mildly roam over the surface of her skin, lips a tease as he pecks so slightly. Their mouths move in sync, the sanctified synchronisation proves their understanding of each other. He knows her in such a way, he plans a response to her next movement as he pushes his body so he is hovering over her. His lips plaster chaste kisses down her neck, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt; her soft moan consumes him. With a growl, he snakes his hand under her shirt as a ripple of goosebumps litter her skin. His wife is oblivious to his next move, he’s done this before and retracted later. It’s only when he’s moving closer to her cleavage, a breath hitches in her throat at his unfaithfulness.

“Yunho.” She squirmed under his touch, feeling trapped under his body. “I don’t want to.” She breathed out, the cold circulating over her as the hem of her shirt hitched up.

“Please. For me.” He presses his lips to hers once again. As if that was any consolation for his indecency, any justification for him throwing his body over hers leaving her captured under the emblem of his own desire.

The stars scape across the night in the landscape of the dead, a fragile soul awakens in the aftermath of his despotism. Her heart lurches out of her chest, feeling the aches of his vulgarity inflicted upon her.

It must all be a sick joke.

It’s a joke, the way the moonlight streams in through their velvet curtains forging a halo around his slender body.

Reeling away from him, she slipped out from under the covers, picking up remnants of her modesty from the ground beneath her. A demeaning silence fulfilled the sombre atmosphere as she trudged to the bathroom, the light shattering the fabric of her dignity.

Hot water spurted from the shower head, as she weakly slathered the soap over her body before grabbing the loofah from the stand. Violently, she rubbed the sponge over her skin, scrubbing hastily in all the places where his touch had lingered upon hers. Scrubbing in all the places where she had felt like a clay pot indented by fingerprints before it could be hardened; moulded by his barbarity. But no matter how much she cleaned her skin, even until it littered red and flakes began to peel off her arms, even when it lacerated—blood boiling as she itched and plucked her neck; it wouldn’t remove feeling of his tender touches burning her. The water could dissolve the soap off her body, the sponge could be rinsed clean, the room could be scrubbed, windows opened, but the memory could not be eradicated. The memory of her begging him to stop and under his reticent command she was rendered subservient. His toy to play with, his doll to admire. Sinking to her knees, her hand slapped against the cool marble; figure convulsing as pained teardrops slid down her cheeks.

A woman’s body belonged to her own, it was to be forged from the roots of her femininity, whether it was to express her sexuality freely or maintain a figure of modesty. It was a not a man’s to hold or to control. Here, he had torn it ruthlessly from her grip, claiming that it was his, all his, as if when she had been bound to him in matrimony it was her body she was giving to him and not herself. Those vows. Those wretched vows he’d spoken at the altar, they were just bewitched lies glossed over by his insatiable beauty.

‘But you belong to your husband, he is entitled to each and every part of you.’ The old wives would say. Yet, a woman’s words are weak, a single plea, a cry, a laughter can so quickly be obscured by his own.

Just this once, hear me, my love.

I just wanted you to hear me say: No.

Mr and Mrs Choi were accounted as distinguished lawyers in the court of law. Whilst Mr Choi worked as a criminal defence lawyer, alongside his closest friend, Mrs Choi laboured in prosecution much to the surprise of her peers who had concluded that she'd been chasing and competing with San in his own field. Again, Yunho had been the one to prove to be much more reputable and the best dignitary in law. When they weren't advocates for justice, they came home to their beautiful daughter Choi Soo-Ah, who inherited her mother's beauty and her father's intellect.

Mr and Mrs Jeong stand outside the terraced home, constructed from red-bricks. They surpass up the staircase, the bow windows outcast over the front lawn, showing San play gently with his daughter alongside his old plushie, Shiber. Her hands raise to provoke the door knocker, where her husband leans closer to her ear.

“Just think baby, that will be us soon.” Placing a chaste kiss on the top of her head, they patiently awaited for the door to swing open. She had thrown herself into Myeong’s hold, the childhood friends squeaking and giggling like little school girls upon their reunion. Until Choi Soo-Ah comes to join them, jumping up and down herself as if she is too an old childhood friend. The old wives do say that you are carrying your child and your child is carrying hers even before they are conceived. In a comical way, little Soo-Ah has been with them for so long.

“Ach, Yunho, what’s this?” Yunho is carrying a heavy chicken dish in his hands and there’s dessert in the car that he’s careful about passing over to San who silently thanks him for saving their dinner party. Myeong’s cooking skills are pitiful, to say the least.

When they finally sat down to eat, Mrs Jeong draws herself out of conversation, reserving her attention solely to her food. For the first time in her life, she wants to scream. She wants to break down into a fit of sobs, howling until the midnight escapes from the sky, convulsing until her body begins to deteriorate and all that’s left is her husband burying her six feet under. She can’t tolerate the way his touch pierces her skin, her clothes feel too tight on her back, hair sticks to the back of her neck as beads of sweat form. Those wretched memories and lies she told him are creeping back. Walls shimmer, the shape of the spoon has somehow distorted, the food all bleeds together to form some sort of mush.

“My, you’re quiet today, brainbox.” A sheepish smile rests on her lips, at San’s comment, her eyes almost flutter close in the midst of her burdening exhaustion.

“Parenthood seems to have taken a bigger toll on you than your wife, San.” She goads, leaning back in her seat. Yunho’s hands draw closer to her own. Her eyes flicker, but they are dams holding back a flood of emotions that are threatening to fall. San laughs, it’s so natural that she envies him for it. She hates how in love he is with Myeong and would never force her to anything she doesn’t want to.

“Soo-Ah is a daddy’s girl.” His fingers raise to tickle his daughter’s cheek who giggles, revealing a dimple on her left cheek. Yunho has dimples too but they’re only really prominent when stress overtakes him and he loses too much weight.

"Has anyone spoken to Yeo? It's honestly almost like he's dead." Myeong jokes, a breath is lodged in her throat calculating what the next best word to say is. But her mind is spiralling out of control, because it was that tragic day when Yunho depravedly ripped her apart.

"I spoke to him the other day, he's doing ok. I've been meaning to get back to him but I haven't had the time." In truth, she's been calling Yeosang at least four to five times a day, spamming him with messages. Sometimes she even pounds on his front door when she knows he will be at home. Heaven knows, a flicker of a shadow has crawled across the floor, receiving her presence but he ignores her like she did to his feelings. They sit there, knowing its incomplete without all five of them.

Stood by the Choi family household's doorway, Yunho slips on his shoes his wife loitering behind him.

"Are you sure you want to stay here for so long? I'll miss you." His pout no longer makes her heart throb with reverence. The sight of him repulses her, the tsunami is rising high above the waves, there is no longer a fragment of her that would breathe at his will. “I love you.” His declaration reverberated of the walls in the foyer, the beating of her heart paused momentarily. It felt too quiet, as San’s dimpled smile behind them, Soo-Ah’s wide eyes and Yunho’s longing gaze rested heavy on her figure. As if they were all awaiting for her to say the words back to him. Her face heated with the pressure, which one would have mistaken for a love-sick blush.

“I love you too.” Love. A word that didn’t hold any meaning anymore, what even was it? She once thought she knew what love meant, after all, love was Jeong Yunho. Love was waking up beside him every morning to his groggy voice and a fit of kisses. Love was dancing to songs in the kitchen, chasing him through the park but failing because of his long legs. Love was discussing remnants of the future together, not forcing it to happen within a single beat. Love was him. Was. Past tense, something long gone to the wind and would never return.

"I don't know if something has happened to you, but it's almost as if you've completely shut down." They sit on Myeong's bed as both her husband and daughter have skipped down to the park. Her eyes outcast from the window, the bare branches of the trees sway with the billow of the window, the leaves drift across the pavement as a few pedestrians stalk down the street in their work attire. The Choi's neighbourhood is so full of sophistication, its enough to make her domestic village seem inferior. Her head turns to meet her friend's concerned eyes, prevailing as if she is so eager to make her way through the labyrinth of struggle Mrs Jeong has been plunged through. "Did Yunho say, or do, something to you?"

Tears well up at the front of her eyes, the pace of her breathing quickens, everything has blurred so suddenly. A malicious monster has plunged his hands to her lungs, suffocating her airways so much that she cannot breathe and is denied the pleasures of living. His slender fingers lodge in the lumen of her airpipe, mouth locked in place all that escapes her are muffled cries. Chains ensnare around her legs too, tightened she cannot even as so much move her leg a single inch. A voice is attenuated at her ear drums, the tumultuous tides have rushed into the shore, sweeping her body into the vast expanse of the cerulean sea. Her anguished roar saturates the room, much like the water filling into her lungs.

"He-he-" Her voice stammers so pathetically, her arms wrap around herself because a touch of another will just kill her. "He hurt me. I said no but he wouldn't stop, he just kept on going. I said, please but he wouldn't stop." Her head falls onto the pillow and she just gives up allowing Myeong, and Myeong alone, to embrace her. The cry is no longer so silent, no longer expressed in the loneliness of her married home when he is not there to hear her. It is spoke in a house where the notions of absolutism do not exist. It speaks to Myeong's soul, watching her cry is a nightmare for she had never seen any other emotion other than happiness on her face.

"I can't go back. Please don't make me go back to him." She wails, gripping onto her forearms as if any moment now, he would tear through the walls and yield her back into prison.

Slumped on the leather sofa of Myeong's office in her home, as the lawyer ardently works through reads of paperwork and emails. Little Soo-Ah’s body is draped over her own, her small chest rises up and down, soft snores escaping her. On maternal instinct, her arms wrap around, holding her closer. There’s a poignancy in the idea that this is what she could have had, had he not forced it upon her.

"We have TRO-temporary restraining order for up to two weeks until a full trial is scheduled. The judge needs more information. You are aware that Yunho can make an appeal to get his restraining order revoked, right?" Chewing down on her lip, she nods, knowing that things will only get much worse from here.

The Magistrate’s court is where all court cases begin, even sexual assault cases. It’s when the suspect pleads “not guilty” that things get messy, and it’s established as “indictable only” that cases are handed over to the Crown Prosecution Services. Jue is even surprised that it’s taken a few weeks to reach the trial; normally cases like hers take months upon months. Yet what hurts the most is that for the second time she reads out aloud her statement and it’s almost like she’s begging to the judge for mercy. As if they are the ones who can cure of her this ailment.

The court room is cold, is really all she can think about as she avoids her husbands deceived gaze across the room. Jue knows that if she looks into his eyes, even once, she might feel pried to take back all that she has set against him. She doesn’t live with him anymore, she moved as quick as she could to a women’s hostel—the feeling of living alone terrifies her.

“A work convention? So soon?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion, he doesn’t quite believe her but there is nothing from the tone of her voice or body language that suggests she is lying.

“Yes, dear. About a week?” He snakes his arms around her waist, inhaling in her scent.

“You’ll take the pregnancy test, won’t you? God knows how much I want that baby.” Ignoring the pounding of her heart, she nods eagerly, cautiously pressing her lips to his soft cheek. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

There’s a number of officials, including a circuit judge and a jury of twelve members of the public all awaiting for the case to start. The defence lawyer is yet to walk in.

The wooden doors swing open, following a gust of air as a pair of shoes click against the floor. The prosecution follow their eyes across their shoulders, Myeong’s heart stops beating for a second.

Her husband stands there in all his glory, their eyes meet in a quick second before he dips his head sitting next to Yunho. She cannot her believe her eyes, yet the same way she would protect her friend with her life, San would fight Yunho’s case for as long the blood ran through his veins.

The war begins.

Mr and Mrs Choi both prepare succinct, detailed opening speeches for the court. In cases like sexual assault, there needs to be a sufficient amount of evidence for the perpetrator to be punished. In marital rape, it’s a lot more difficult and is categorised under domestic assault. It’s her word against the court, and god was it difficult for Myeong to pull something together.

It seems like this wasn’t the case for San and Yunho, for when he presents his opening speech deeming his client isn’t guilty and his argument begins, he has the physical evidence Myeong was scrounging for.

"The defence argues that Mrs Jeong’s appeal extends from her ongoing paranoid schizophrenia. Here, we have a letter of diagnosis issued on the 12th September, three years ago, by Dr Park Taeo, working for the Light Goeul Medical Foundation." San dropped a folder in front of the judge, a copy handed to Myeong who flips through the folder at a rapid pace.

“The defence would like to call Dr Park Taeo to the stand.” A man of average height with jet black hair ascends to the stand. He is clad in a smart suit, but Jue furrows her brows. She had never seen or met this man before. Granted, at one point Yunho had her meet a counsellor for her 'feelings' (an old woman who retired and had just passed away last year), yet there was no 'Dr Park Taeo' she had ever spoken to. Her lips move closer to Myeong, whispering words of defence.

"I have never met this man before. I don't even know who he is." Taeo is sworn in by the bible, pledging to the tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

“Could you inform the court of when you had first met Mrs Jeong, and what exactly had led you to believe she had paranoid schizophrenia?” San interrogates, he musters all the courage he can to avoid his wife’s gaze for he feels her stare burning holes in his back.

“Mrs Jeong came into my office on the 22nd of February, three years ago. She told me her husband had requested her see someone as she was particularly suffering from hallucinations, so seeing things that weren’t there. Hearing things. Delusions, withdrawing herself away from her family and friends. I also recognised a particularly disorganised train of thought, she stumbled over her speech.” Her heart stops in her chest.

22nd February. The same date she first saw her counsellor.

“And these are all symptoms of schizophrenia?” San provokes, to which Taeo nods followed quickly by a verbal confirmation. “Could you tell the court of her delusions?” The doctor sucks in a deep sigh, typically there’s ‘patient-confidentiality’ at play which is inherently discredited in the court of law.

“She perceived people were trying to hurt her. Usually it was people she was working with, sometimes it was her husband.” Jue squeezes her eyes shut.

That fucker.

“Can you elaborate?”

“Mrs Jeong stated, and I remember this so boldly: ‘Sometimes I feel that he doesn’t love me for any other reason other than to use me, or that I am of some value to him. Sometimes I feel he may hurt me, or is the wrong person to protect me from danger.’” A hand slaps to her mouth, her fingers squeezing her lips. Her heart palpitates in her chest, hastened breaths escaping her.

It’s exactly what she said, three years ago, to her therapist.

“What makes you say that?” Mrs Go’s soft voice is a dream, a melody dropped from the banner of a celestial plane. Her attitude eases the incessant pulsation of her heart.

“I wonder when he sees my scars if he loves me. Or when he hears of my past, that I am still the same woman he is in love with.”

“Why would any of that stop him from loving you?” Mrs Go never took notes. That woman had an impeccable memory, she wrote things down after the session, claiming her clients required her undivided attention.

“Men don’t like broken things.”

“Was there anything you believe could have been the cause of her condition?” Her ears have mellowed out San’s voice, she cannot bear it and it’s hard to avoid Yunho’s gaze now. She stares at him, though there’s no longer a betrayed look that settles in his eyes. A glimmer of triumph, a paint of melancholy.

“Yes, particularly her childhood is the main factor. Her father was a raging alcoholic who engaged in substance abuse. Her mother left him for that reason. His erratic behaviour eventually transgressed into acts of physical violence which he inflicted on his daughter and son. I believe Mrs Jeong’s brother—,” Her chair scrapes across the floor, she stumbles her line of sight blurring. There’s a mixture of voices and faces, they all wanting something to do with her. She wants nothing to do with them. Before she knows it, a spread of darkness fulfils her vision.

“I must look like a fool for fainting in court. That screams guilty straight away.” She breaks the silence in Myeong’s office, her body draped across the plush sofa. Her friend simply hums tightening her gaze across the spread of sheets littered upon her desk. Darting her eyes across the room, Myeong looks as deceived as Yunho did. After all, it’s her first time hearing any of this and despite her friend’s pleas that the diagnosis was never true—Myeong doesn’t know what to believe. For the first time since law school, there are dark circles under her eyes as she hasn’t gone home to sleep in a long time. Soo-Ah is with her grandparents and she doesn’t have the strength to face San. “I-my father did beat me.” Jue confesses, but the words splutter from her mouth. Disorganised, as Taeo would state. Passively, she gets up from the sofa, taking off her jacket revealing the t-shirt underneath.

Her arms are scarred, several indentations seem like streaks of white paint over her skin. None have faded, and they’re all relics of her past which seem like trophies of wars she has fought. Myeong has seen similar bruises, scars and wounds on victims of domestic violence; she may have never gone through it herself but seeing it in others is what prompted her to be a lawyer. Knowing that her friend was suffering whilst she was training to be an advocate is like a blow to the heart.

“How did we never notice?”

“Lots and lots of my mother’s concealer. Long shirts and jackets even in the summer…” She trails off feeling herself want to collapse. “I just—never expected him to use it against me. I confided in him, and he creates this lie that’s enough to close this case.”

“It’s absolutely boiling out there and you’re wearing a hoodie?” Yunho scolds as he rifles through their wardrobe, hands running through the hung fabric. They’re all long sleeve shirts, turtlenecks, jumpers and nothing with cropped sleeves. “I’ll have to give you one of mine.” He takes out the white shirt, slipping off the hanger before handing it to her. Her hands reach out, slowly, a fear striking through her heart. What if he sees those scars and doesn’t love her anymore? Muttering her thanks, the hoodie is replaced by the t-shirt. Yunho has noticed straight away, within an instance he’s on his knees whilst she bawls under his inquisition.

“We’re going to fight this, I’ve got evidence to prove he’s a fraud and this whole thing is fake. Second, I’ve called Yeosang in. We’re proving to the court you’re sane.” Jue just hopes there’s no bitter feelings amongst them; not after she completely disregarded his feelings in light of her husband’s.

The shatter of glass against the wall sent a jolt through her; the fragments bounced off the surface splitting into all corners of the living room. The black, leather sofa is pushed forward so she can squeeze her body through the tight spot. If she stays here long enough, he’ll eventually give up and leave. But she’s as wrong as she’ll ever be because when Mr Jue is drunk, he is the most persistent man on earth.

“If you come here now, then I won’t hit you.” Lie. He was stood by the doorway, blocking the exit to her bedroom. His body swayed from side to side, heavily intoxicated; having spent two weeks worth of food on a shit ton of alcohol and drugs in one night. “I can wait all day.” His low voice sending a wave of fear over her. Taking in a deep breath, she darted towards the space between his body and the doorway, wrangling away from the harsh grip of his greasy hands before scrambling up the steps. He pounded up the staircase behind her, hands outstretched for her legs, jerking her down, forearms slamming into the piercing edges. A cry escaped her lips as his elbow pummelled down on her head, his iron fists gripping her hair sending a violent punch through her head, the pain rattling at her core.

“That’s what we’ve got to do to clever bastards like you, go straight for the fucking head.” He snarled, throwing her body against the staircase. Where’s your brother?” He questioned, darting up to the stairs. Plastering her hands over her ears to drown out the sounds of his screams, tears soundlessly poured down her cheeks until the shrieks reverberated mercilessly through her head and she darted up to his bedroom.

“That’s enough, stop!” Her bellow carried over the expanse of the bedroom, her younger brother on the floor cradling his face in his arms.

“My own fucking children are ganging up on me now.” He cackles, mercilessly and she’s on the lookout for the Grim Reaper. But she doesn’t see him and she’s disappointed. The sight of him is better than the sight of her father. “Your mother was a dirty whore! She wanted fucking kids and then left me to deal with them. I didn’t even want you!”

“Tell me something I haven’t heard before.” He scowled, deprived of the energy to lash out again at her stumbling out of the door; slamming it behind them. Sinking onto the floor, her arms outstretched to encircle her brother into her—his body crawled in. Rocking him back and forth she ran her fingers through his hair as he sobbed pitifully into her chest.

The Jue siblings have been physically abused for as long as they’ve lived. Every morning the eldest child wakes up her brother, washes him, and applies a layer of concealer over his bruised skin. Then he wears long sleeve shirts, or a short-sleeve with a jumper on top, before being fed breakfast and taken to school. He is eight years old and doesn’t understand why he’s thrown against the floor like a rag doll. Often when he sees the father of his classmates hug them after school, he’s confused. So he asks his sister who’s only rendered silent as they eat dinner in her room behind a locked door.

Jue can’t tell him it’s his way of loving, because she doesn’t want to prepare her brother for a lifelong relationship of abuse. He deserves to know what love feels like, he just knows a bit of love is his sister staying hungry so he can have the last slice of oven pizza. He knows that a bit of love is her sneaking chocolate cake out of events so he can get a treat after dinner. Or her saving up from her measly wages so she can buy him a toy he’ll treasure forever. But he’ll never know what paternal love is.

Nobody knows of their secret. It’s something she’s forced her brother to not open his mouth on. If the teacher asks where the bruise came from, say you fell over. If the teacher asks where daddy is, say he’s at work. What about mummy? The truth. Mummy doesn’t live with us anymore.

(Mummy doesn’t love us.)

Myeong never knew, nor did San or Yeosang. No matter how deeply rooted Yunho’s infatuation was: he never knew either. Not until after they had married and he’d seen the scars on her body.

Having no maternal figure was awful for her, especially on days where she needed to rest and she physically couldn’t move her body from the bed. Her father storms into the room, he’s in his work attire but she knows he’s had one too many drinks from the pub on his way home from work. It’s a wonder how he’s never been sacked yet.

“Get up.” He roars. “What are you laying down for? Lazy bitch.”

“I can’t get up.” She croaked out.

“Get the fuck up.”

“I can’t.” She whined, groaning loudly as she pushed up her body from the bed. A scream erupted from her lips as he gripped her by the hair to drag her out of her room, her lower abdomen pummelling a wave of agony through her. He hauls her down the stairs, launching her body into the kitchen. Her figure slaps against the floor, a breath lodged in her throat as tears well up in her eyes.

“One of the men at the pub has told me you’ve been with a man. Not the doctor or specky-four-eyes.” She holds back the urge to roll her eyes, he’s only ever seen San with glasses on, she doesn’t bother to correct him that Yeosang is a medical student. “The lanky one. He’s supposed to be tall as fuck, I’m told. Who is he? Whose dick are you sucking now?”

“I’m not. He’s a friend, Yeosang’s friend. His name is Yunho.” She sits a little properly on the kitchen floor, but not up. Jue knows better than to shun her father’s superiority complex.

“What does he study?”

“Law and psychology.” He simply hums, she wonders what he’s thinking.

“Well don’t whore around with him, otherwise you’ll end up pregnant and he’ll leave you.” A breath of relief escapes her as he disappears from the first floor and enters his bedroom. She’s surprised. There is at least five objects in the kitchen that he can harm her with, she anticipates his arrival for the next fifteen minutes preparing herself to be battered by him. When he doesn’t reappear, she takes the opportunity to trudge back to her bedroom.

It was funny. Perhaps her father should have warned Yunho to not chase after her. After all, he was the one who ‘whored around’ with her and she was the one leaving him. But that’s all her past feels to her now: irony. Something to laugh and laugh like a crazed man. Perhaps her husband is right, she is insane.

Here she is, sitting opposite Yeosang in the clinic he works at. Unlike Mrs Go, he scribbles down her words as if he’s transcribing them across the page furiously with his fountain pen. When she stops speaking and a distasteful quietude fills the air, Jue knows exactly what he’s thinking and doesn’t have it in her to meet his scrutiny.

“I can’t believe you went through all of this, and never told us.” Those words she expected. “What happened to that bastard afterwards? I remember him at the wedding but what happened to him?”

“He just left of the face of the earth. I don’t know if he’s dead, or in jail or just shit faced in another city. Doesn’t matter, I won’t forgive him for what he did to my brother.” Wiping her nose, the scrunched up tissue is shoved back into her pocket; she peers at him through her lashes as Yeosang stares at his sheet.

"Well, the good news it that you're sane. It is normal to suffer as you have done and still be 'sane'. You've created a somewhat healthy coping mechanism to be relatively unaffected. Any history of mental illness in the family?" She shakes her head. There's just a history of abuse after abuse but somehow they've all managed to be escape the grasp of mental illness. For a minute she wonders if she ever had a child and if they would be the one to break. "Good. I'll pass this along to Myeong and I'm more than happy to testify."

"Thank you, Yeo. Are you ok? You didn't respond to my calls." He takes off his glasses and throws them to the side, his face falling into his palms as a long groan emits from his lips.

"I'm fine, I'm sorry I burdened you with what I said the other day. It was merely a moment of weakness." But it wasn't. It took him all the strength that laid within him for every moment it roamed within, it felt like his organs were being toxified.

"But did you mean what you said?"

"Yes. Without doubt."

In the middle of the biting winter, she shoves her fists into the deep pockets of her trench coat; as her heels click against the steps up to the court. Thank goodness the building is warm, she makes her way down to the room, the security guards are familiar with her now—after all her case seems to never end. Meeting Myeong outside, Jue gives San a curt nod as the couple engage in a private conversation.

A figure clears his throat from behind her, her head turns to find her husband loitering awkwardly by the double doors. His eyes are slightly tired, face sunken. He’s lost weight, so much so she can see the dimple his healthy face hides.

“Have you been eating?” She confesses, the words escape her before she can suppress them.

“Yes, my mother has been taking care of that. You?” She nods, though it is false nonetheless. Eating, sleeping, living is a luxury. All she can do is breathe and sometimes even that comes at a price. "You look like you've lost weight." She shrugs, perhaps she has. She's never neglected herself this much in her life, there's nothing to live but for freedom now. A spectral silence is suspended in the air before the door swings open and they are allowed into the court room. Myeong hooks her arm around her own, they walk in leaving their husbands behind.

There’s a quiet chatter as the prosecution lawyer discusses a few matters with her assistant. It’s tense at the moment, their witness has not arrived yet and session is about to start.

“Counsellor?” The judge prompts, all the eyes fall on her. Jue quickly texts Yeosang underneath the table but the message isn't received on his end.

There is no Yeosang.

Myeong's heart flutters with dejection, her face heating up as she feels the burning stares of tens upon tens. Her fists ball at her sides, her sharp eyes digging Yunho's grave.

"The prosecution would like to call the defendant, Jeong Yunho, to the stand." Ignoring the small murmur, Yunho is sworn in by the bible before he seats himself to be questioned. San narrows his eyes, flickering his gaze to Jue. The prosecution only speaks up after a few beats of silence.

“How long have you known Mrs Jue and how long have you been married for?” He pauses. Mrs Jue. As if she didn’t tear her father’s name away from her own the second she married him.

“I have known her for five years, and we’ve been married for three.”

“At what point did she begin to display manic behaviour?”

“Four months after we married. I suggested she went to see a psychiatrist.”

Lie.

“That’s funny, Yunho. Here, it states. She went to see Mrs Go, a psychotherapist—not a psychiatrist—on the 22nd February.” She picks up her folder, holding the receipts Jue managed to find in her folder. “You do know there’s a significant difference between a psychotherapist and psychiatrist, right?” He snickers, cocking his head to the side. It’s the small flickers of his egotism that roams within him, infiltrating into the cold, court room. It’s there and gone, as if it only belongs for his wife to see.

“I’m a psychologist by background, I think I know better than most people, Mrs Choi.” Myeong’s chilling laughter reverberates through the room, his eyebrows crease. A sentiment of annoyance.

“So then tell me the truth, Yunho. Who did she see on the 22nd February. Was it Mrs Go or Dr Park Taeo?”

“Dr Park Taeo. We didn’t need to see a therapist when it was a diagnosis she was seeking.” The folder is thrown onto the table, her hands rest on her hips, digging into the crevice of her cinched waist. A long, deep sigh.

“Seeing as though you’re a psychologist by background, what are some of the treatments available for schizophrenia?”

“Medication, cognitive behavioural therapy, there are care plans in place as well.” Yunho’s brown eyes move to his wife, her eyes tear away from his as quickly as she can.

“There are no medical records, not even on her past medical history that states she was ever on medication, such an Olanzapine. It doesn’t even state that she is schizophrenic, but for arguments sake: she is. If she was really was batshit crazy, wouldn’t you as a loving husband ensure she is under the correct medication? Wouldn’t she have made these allegations before but in order for her to make such a statement: wouldn’t you have had to have done something to prompt her?” Myeong sucked her a deep breath, her chest heaving in anger. “There’s nothing from her childhood that can even do so much as enable her to conjure such a thought. Yet you, her husband, a man who has continually emotionally blackmailed her throughout your marriage— is the man she deems has hurt her the most. Tell me, Jeong Yunho, what did you do to her? Tell the court what a vile man you are.” His bottom lip quivers, pearl tears welling up in her eyes.

“I would never hurt her. I love her too much. She didn’t go on medication because she refused to.”

“Bullshit! She was never offered medication from that fraud.” There's a slight warning from the judge on her language but Myeong will say all the profanities in the world if it means provoking her enemy.

“I never touched her without her say, even if it was to hold her hand. If she said no, I backed away within a second. You can’t force someone to go on medication, Mrs Choi and she is not ‘batshit crazy’ she is ill. All I ever wanted was for her to get better.”

“There is no illness, Yunho. Look.” Waving a piece of paper in front of his face. Before handing a clean folder to the judge. “Dr Park Taeo isn’t real, your honour. There was no illness to begin with, other than a surmountable amount of childhood trauma—which in several cases doesn’t always resolve to mental illness. I have a report from Dr Kang who carried out her psychological examination, proving this statement. Unfortunately he could not make it here today. Might I add, you, Mr Jeong was her her anchor in the entirety of your marriage. And you, had ruined that by assaulting her, a man who, may I also say, is a man of the law.” Her shaking hands run through her hair, San knows she is on the brink of collapsing. Her face has thinned significantly, Myeong hasn’t eaten; it’s why she’s reached this far in the case.

A pearly tear slips down Yunho’s face, glossing the curvature of his plump cheek. His body wracks with prevalent cries and the court is stunned by his vulnerability. His wife sucks in a painful breath, God he knows where it hurts her the most.

“Why did you do it, Yunho? Hm? To feel powerful?”

“I object, your honour. Question leads to speculation.” San rises from his seat, raising a questioning brow at his wife.

“Objection is upheld.” The judge agrees, yet Myeong has exhausted all that she has to say. She knows that if Yeosang was here with them, her argument could have been made stronger.

The homes on her street have stood still, like a broken clock whose hands don’t move as time steals by. It seems the very essence of the wind has defied the laws of nature—the leaves do not bustle in the winter air. Myeong sits alongside Jue, in her kitchen, Soo-Ah plastered on her hip as she stirs the steaming pot of food under her friend’s careful instruction. San is at his parents’ home, unwilling to stay in his house as he ferociously fights the case against his wife.

Mrs Jeong is at her table, the computer screen blaring at her. Too tired to continue, she gathers all of the diagrams compiling them into a neat stack before packing everything up. Everything feels too normal, it’s as if she isn’t fighting a brutal case against her husband. The TRO has ‘expired’ and she never bothered to get it extended knowing that at the end of the day, it will be a divorce she gets from her husband.

“I try to reach out for him, in my dreams, before I realise that he’s not the same man I fell in love with.” She blurts, the attention of the women in front immediately moves to her. Myeong watches her friend stuff food into her mouth at the kitchen table; her eyes glistening with tears, body wrought with exhaustion spending sleepless nights roaming the hostel and long days at work staring into the dull screen. Days at court, days at Myeong’s home, avoiding the ghost town where their home used to be. “I realise that I want him to hold me again, and pretend he didn’t ruin me the way he did. Sometimes I wish I never said anything, then at least I would have had someone.” Her friend’s eyes litter with empathy, though it feels so sadistic in an other-worldly sense. How can a woman in a secure marriage understand her? Biting down on her quivering lip, she refrains from letting out the sobs that have clogged up her throat. Painful sounds are released, her teeth grind against each other as her body lurches forward.

"J--," Her hand is held up to censor her friends movements, she has done this before on several occasions at the hostel. Nights curled up on the floor, suppressing a fit of miserable emotions. She doesn't need any of this, not now when her lover is long gone.

Kang Yeosang is officially missing; the local community searches for him when they get a chance. Though his best friend has spent the last few weeks trying to track down his location. After he psychoanalysed Jue, he remained in his clinic until 1700 hours in the evening. He arrived at his home at 1738 hours, information given by the courtesy of his neighbour. Nobody knows anything after that.

She can't help but go back to his house, maybe there's something there that can tell them where he's gone. The old neighbour walks outside to throw away the bins, when she catches Jue, Myeong and Soo-Ah roaming in his front yard.

"Excuse me!" Jue calls out. "I don't know if I remember me, but I asked about Yeosang a while back." Gesticulating to the front door as if she might remember, the old lady does. Nodding, she gravitates to the garden wall.

"Yes. I do. The poor boy hasn't been found yet, has he?" They shake their heads. "I think I forgot to mention, there was a man that passed by his home a few times. I think they may have been friends." Myeong meets her friend's eyes, urging the woman to continue talking.

"Ah, he was very tall, wore glasses and a suit almost every time he was here. He was here the same day he went missing." She pulls out her phone, rushing to her camera roll.

Pressing her phone to the older woman's face, "Was this the man, by any chance?" The neighbour nods, profusely. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?" She snaps before grabbing Myeong's hand leaving from his lawn.

It was Yunho.

She is sure of it. There is no one else in the world that would possibly want to hurt Yeosang more than him, for what reason: she can only speculate but pieces of her mind refuses to jump to those forbidden thoughts. Mrs Jeong is once again stood in Myeong's kitchen as the lawyer paces up and down her kitchen aisle.

"Well San says he left his house a while back, he's not at your in-laws." She doesn't even want to reach out to her mother-in-law, they know of the court case and probably hate their daughter with every fibre of their being. "Maybe he's at that summer home you have?" Myeong suggests. That's exactly where he is, but with no substantial proof they can't exactly storm in with the police or a search warrant. Besides Yunho is incredibly intelligent and resourceful, as if the court case isn't a testament to that already.

"Don't do something stupid like walk into his house. He's fucking dangerous at this point." She scolds knowing Myeong's stubbornness holds no bounds. The lawyer holds back a scowl, not long before she redirects the words back at her. "He won't hurt me, if he wanted to this fiasco would have been over a long time ago."

Yunho is mirror image of Mr Jue, his father-in-law. She has become her mother, running away from him except she has not left him with two young children.

"Amma, where are you going?" The younger version of herself stands by the doorway of her parents' bedroom as Mrs Jue profusely shoves the clothes into her bag discarding the hangers onto the floor.

"Baby, pick up the hangers from the floor will you?" Her mother orders, and obedient-her listens earnestly, placing the hangers inside the small ironing basket. She repeats the questions, to which her mother pauses in her actions to look at her daughter. "I'm just going to my mother's. Alone. So don't pack your bags. You'll be ok taking care of your brother, won't you?" She's still so eager to attain her mother's validation so she nods as if handling a young child is the easiest thing one can do.

How could she have not realised that her mother was leaving for good? It's not until her younger brother passes away that, at the funeral, her mother's wild cries boil her blood. There's something like a spurt of anger brewing within her as the jarring dissonance cripples her ears. Yunho is stalking after her as she saunters over to her mother.

Her hand raises, striking a harsh blow against her mother's cheek; there's a pin drop silence in the room. "How fucking dare you. As if you were his mother, you cry? You left us." Her voice cracks, Yunho's hand rests on her shoulder pulling her back towards him. "You left us and you're crying as if you raised him? You may have given birth to him, but I was more of his mother than you have ever been!"

Soo-Ah will be raised with lots of love, she knows that much. Mr and Mrs Choi's love is too strong to be torn apart by Yunho, no less. There's no need to be envious, a poor love is hereditary something that the Jue's are undeserving off. That's ok with her, she is last of them. There will be no more of them.

The front door blasts open, her grip on the handle of the knife tightens as a figure charges down the hallways through to the kitchen. San's clothes fit loose on him, hair dishevelled and with a flushed face he meets her stare.

"Where is she?" He demands, lifting his daughter off the high chair, holding her smaller frame closely against his body. As if she is anything like her husband and will harm her too.

Myeong left her home at 0900 on Tuesday morning, entrusting the care of her child with her friend. Jue has been taking care of Soo-Ah, taking a few days off work but when she doesn't arrive home by 1730; something is deeply wrong. She called everywhere including her office, San and his parents and in-laws.

Like Yeosang, Myeong is nowhere to be found.

"Do you know where she may have gone?" Jue slumps down on the chair, sucking in a deep breath.

"Yunho's. The summer home we have." He gives a look of pure confusion, that his friend cannot help but feel sorry for him. As intelligent as he may be, he is also incredibly oblivious. "Open your eyes now San, Yunho is not who you think he is. He's a goddam psycho."

"But why would she drive two and a half hours away from here, to your holiday home?"

"We believe he's the reason Yeo is missing. His neighbour said she saw Yunho on the same day Yeosang went missing." Pieces of the puzzle have now been put into place, San can envision the big picture now; he just wishes he listened to his wife when she scolded him for taking on the case. His heart palpitates within his chest, cursing himself for endangering his family.

"I'm going to go pay him a visit and you're going to listen to every word I say."

Their summer home is just of the coast, maybe two miles away from the beach. Regardless it stands in all its glory, with a large porch circulating around the home-it's antique salmun doors had been replaced for contemporary ones, panelled windows outcast the front lawn. In itself the driveway is a massive field with a pavement large enough to carry a vehicle up and down it. It's serene, at any time of the year yet its a 'summer' home because Yunho always drags her down there when the sun peaks at its highest. A low grunt and she rolls of the drivers seat, eyes scanning over San's message before she makes her way to his front door.

Yunho has already noticed her, settling down the book on the coffee table before dashing to the door to swing it open.

"Jagiya." He breathes out, it feels silent before she ambles in staring at him before taking of her shoes. Mrs Jeong knew she had to face him but she doesn't really know what to say now that she's here. Yunho seats himself on the sofa, motioning for her to do the same. "Why are you here?" He doesn't bother to ask how she knew he was here, his wife isn't unintelligible.

"I wanted to talk to you. But now that I am here, I don't know what to say." Her profession stuns him a little. Mrs Jeong always knows what to say. It's one of the things he loves about her.

“I always imagined you and I and a little toddler. Just the three of us." His eyes squeeze shut, she feels the urge to wrap her hands around his slender neck and wrangle him until he drops dead. How is her body the only thing he cares about?

“I could never give you that, Yunho. I believe that there is another woman who can give you the family you want.” Yet the plain truth is that he doesn't deserve to remarry and have children. He will just hurt them. He will suffocate them, the same way her father suffocated her.

“No but you could have. You’ll give another man exactly what I wanted.” Oh god. The incongruity. He took away Yeosang and Myeong, she wonders who is next. He will take away the next man that even so much as blinks in her direction.

“There won’t be another man after you, because it took me to fall in love with you to realise that I wasn’t brought on this earth to be a wife or a mother.”

“If you weren’t born to be by my side then God would not have listened to my prayers. He wouldn’t have listened to me when I went down on my knees and begged for you.” Gulping the lump in her throat she blinked back the tears holding in her eyes. "I really do love you, it just hurts me that you made this false allegation against me-," Raising from her seat she rushes towards him, glaring down at him in fury.

"Let's not begin with false allegations when all you did was lie in court. I fucking said no. God is my witness. I loved you more than you ever loved me, and you broke that by treating me as if I was your doll." Tears well up in his own eyes, he simply says nothing slouching further in his seat. With tiredness, Jue leaves the room, analysing the setting before her eyes fall on the basement door. "I'm going to the bathroom." He hums, picking his book back up as she carefully slips down to the cellar.

The lurid scent of damp perfuses the atmosphere, gentle steps descend the staircase where a dim light floods into the room. Her heart is heavy in her chest as she makes her way down, a warning sign that she is not going to see something she likes. The basement is small, with a low ceiling that she knows has her husband crouching down as he enters, its concrete floors and grey walls are unsettling.

Gripping her lips with her fingers, she sinks to the floor holding back an ear-splitting scream as two limp figures sprawl over the floor in a puddle of dried scarlet blood. Tears flood down her cheeks, a low hiss escapes her as she crawls towards the masculine figure. His face is almost unrecognisable, beaten to a pulp with a split lip and swollen eyes. His long hair is rumpled, his own saliva and blood sticking the oily strands to his neck.

"Yeo." She chokes out, his unresponsiveness deconstructs her. Resting his head on her lap, her tears drop onto his face bleeding into his own; he can just about make out her face through his weak vision. Her howls increase by an octave, but his hitched breaths diminish her by the second. "Please. Say something so I know you're here." He says nothing. Yeosang just breathes.

Until he stops. There's a beat of silence. Then another. She waits with some false delusion that he will breathe again, but he does not. A shriek, and the cellar door erupts open Yunho pounding down the steps. Her head whips around, launching of the floor she swings her body at him but he holds down her fists with an iron grip.

"You monster! You bastard! How could you?"

"You said you loved me more than I ever loved you, how could that be true when I killed someone for you?" His voice is so mellow it disgusts her. He speaks as if he did not take another life. "Nobody is allowed to love you but me." Shaking her head, she parries against his strident grip, launching a brutal punch against him. An annoyed look floods his face, he holds his ground stalking towards Myeong's limp figure.

"Let her go. This is between you and I." She orders. Yunho simply scoffs, grabbing a water bottle-draining its contents across her face. Myeong squawks for air, as she jolts away from her unconsciousness, drops of water dribble from her lips as she tries to strengthen herself.

"And this one. This witty, little bitch." He grips her hair, yielding her closer to him ignoring Myeong's cries. "She really tried to fuck me over. It's a shame that she's never been better than me at any point in her life." He bends down to Myeong's level, drawing his lips to her ear.

"You're good. But you're not better than me." His taunts irritate her, and she squirms, ferociously, in his hold yet it pains when all he seems to do is rip her hair from its roots. His wife's howls fall deaf at his ears, a look of pleasure fills his features. A cruel blade departs from his pocket, holding it close to Myeong's neck. "What do you say, baby, get rid of her too? All she's doing is separating us."

“YUNHO. PLEASE.” His knife draws close to Myeong’s throat dancing on the surface of her skin. “I’m pregnant!” His head snaps up, his grip on the knife almost falters. It's a long shot, but she knows how to hurt him.

“What?”

“Yes.” She chokes on her sobs. “I’m having our baby, so please don’t hurt Myeong. Then our baby won’t have an auntie and Soo-Ah won’t have her mother.” He drops the knife, stalking towards her in a few single strides. His pale hands rest on her cheeks, tilting her face so she is looking at him.

“How long have you known?”

“It’s been a week since I’ve known, but I’m 8 weeks along.” He holds back a cry, he’s a fucking monster. A second ago he was ready to take Myeong’s life. Her face is tightly fixed in the palm of his hands as he peppers kisses on her forehead, down the bridge of her nose and finally on her lips. She allows him, just this once, to roam his hands around her body. “Just leave Myeong.” Yunho is so sure that there’s a patter of footsteps behind him, yet his wife’s hands drag him down her neck deeper. His soul is completely intoxicated by her essence, there is some figment that has him so utterly devoted to her.

Her heart pounds, incessantly, against her chest as she storms down the hospital hallways ignoring the burning stare of the clinicians and nurses. It’s not long before she skids into the emergency ward—pummelling towards the end of the room.

Her brother is lying on the bed, so weak and helpless she cannot help but cry out for his ruptured soul. He does not deserve this. He did not deserve every minute of torture he was subjected for every second he was alive. His small lips form her name as he barely sees through the slits of his eyes.

It’s her baby, after all.

His body is cradled in her arms, repressing tears. There is something so inhumane about the way his body is butchered, the depth of the lacerations astound her—as if they were trying to cut down to his bone. His staggered breaths send a wave of fear through her heart.

“Who did this to you?” Her whisper, low enough for him to hear.

Dad.

A silver blade ruptures tissues, indenting the skin. Blood bursts from its banks like a scarlet river flooding through the ghost town, he grunts; breath hitched in his throat.

“Before you, there was my father. Before him, was me.”

“My darling daughter! What brings you here?” He slurs, sliding down the wall. Her hand shakes as she screams at him, her ears are deaf. Jue doesn't really know what she's saying to him other than a plethora of vulgar words that she deeply despises.

"How could you hurt him, you fucking bastard!" Her bellow carried over the humid atmosphere, her father barely snickers. It is a gift from god that he is intoxicated. But a curse from hell that his daughter has been brought to his doorstep, in a fit of frenzy. "You have lived to hurt us long enough."

The knife in her hand is not unfamiliar. The way it has dragged under supple skin is not new. She has done it in a time before, Yunho is unbeknownst to this as he sinks to his knees clutching his abdomen, a roar erupting from his lips. His wheezes infiltrate the atmosphere, but his wife is quick on her feet as her arms outstretch for Myeong—eyes widened in shock. Is she an accomplice to this crime?

"Come on!" She shouts, panicked their footsteps launch up the basement staircase, an attempt to escape onto the upper floor in a haste. The door handle rattled, profusely, in her harsh grip yet the door won’t budge.

Fuck.

Their hastened breaths quicken in a deep panic, before a quick thought rushes to mind. There's a hidden tunnel that leads out. They run past Yunho's frail body, ignoring his threats she summons all of the adrenaline she has before pushing past the massive wooden door covering the exit. An ache grinds at her muscle but as her husband raises from the floor she flocks out of the basement in a frenzy.

The smell of the hallways is enough to make them nauseous, but the magnetic force of apprehension is stronger that all they can do is run whilst he chases after them. The end is in sight, the door at the end is always open; seeing as though Yunho could never find a builder to fix it shut. All of a sudden, something sharp drills through her leg, a distressing yelp escaping from her. Groaning she falls to the floor, a metal rod from the unattended copper pipes has obstructed her path.

“Run, Myeong! RUN!” She screams, cradling her leg; a torturous wave of pain lays within her; enough to render her paralysed. His pounding footsteps quicken behind them, grunting heavily as he limps down the hallways to them. Myeong’s movements falter slightly but she dashes through the door leaving it open as she darts through the open field.

A cool gust air blesses her bruised skin, she has never ran this fast before in her life. A sense of guilt resides as she ponders if her friend will make it, yet the car in the distances rips away that thought. It’s San’s car and she clamours his name as loud as she can.

The coolness floods into the narrow passageway, grappling onto the copper pipes for support she staggers feebly towards the exit, the metal rod inserted in her leg weighs her down. Each step is like walking on a million shards of glass, it’s as if coal sizzles under her skin. Was she born just to be in pain?

“Nae sarang, come back. You’re only going to hurt the baby.” The tears draw in her eyes, tickling the edge of her jawline before they clink onto the earth below. The sound of his voice lingers too close to her ears, beckoning all her might she stumbles faster towards the exit breaking out into a run.

Screams expend from her, she doesn’t care to refrain them as she bolts down the fields where Myeong is in San’s arms. There are shackles tied to her feet, the force of gravity is strong.

“Come back here right now!” Yunho roars into the wind, as if they bow to him they stop to let his voice circulate the atmosphere. She will not return to him, she would rather die. Her heart savagely crushes against her chest—phlegm clogs her throat. Pain gnaws at her. Why does the distance to San’s car seem longer than it should be? She shrieks his name while Yunho calls after her.

I’m so tired.

Her knees drop down to the earth beneath her feet, chest hurling with exhaustion. The vast fields are met by an excruciating howl; enough to shatter her voice box. With fingers gripping around the locks of her hair, tears endlessly cascade from her eyes—she’s begging for the Angel of Death to take her away. So much so as her head hits the earth, she speaks to its entity.

“Amma! I can’t do this anymore.” Because what does a child in pain do when the world turns against them? Nothing more than call out for their mother. There’s nothing more left for her to do. She can run to San with a metal rod prodded through her leg. Chances are: she won’t make it when Yunho can easily outrun her. She can stop here and allow her husband to consume her, force her to give birth to a child she does not want.

Or she can turn the weapon against herself. What can go through the leg can go through the heart, right?

Her head whips around to meet Yunho’s stare. There’s no anger, there never is any when he’s looking at her. He’s slowed down in his path, arms nimbly outstretched for her.

“Come back to me, baby.”

In the valley they run, the grass tickling her feet as she dashes across the landscape. A melodic laughter escapes him, like a chorus sung by angels. She’s always been fast at running but it’s never been a chore; it’s a joy to skip through the meadow at lightning speed. The sun illuminates their figures, nobody but them for miles and miles.

Perhaps this is what death feels like.

Or this is what death should be, for now she knows how her fate should resume.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

'Jue' of chinese origin, stems from 'zhou' 'Soo-Ah' meaning butterfly 'Myeong' meaning bright or clear

A/N: please do NOT romanticise this piece of work, it addresses heavy issues. if you have ever been sexually harassed/assaulted by your s/o (or ANYONE), please report it!!! just because they’re your husband/boyfriend e.t.c doesn’t mean that they’re allowed to be let off the hook! I wanted to write this fic because I’ve-first hand- seen the exploitation of female bodies to establish male superiority. take care of yourself and know your worth, I know it’s difficult to speak out against someone who you’re supposed to love but you’re worth much more than that. i hope you enjoyed reading this, it was a little difficult to write but I believe it’s a fic that’s been worth writing.

big thank you to @poartz-writes for hyping me up during this writing process

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tag list: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho @barbielibra

154 notes View Post

zhangyi-johee

3 years ago

I’m going to be thin and I’m going to be great

270 notes View Post

zhangyi-johee

4 months ago

The whole series is so fucked up... i love it

indulgence

pairing ↠ serial killer!sunghoon x (f) professor!reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, graphic depictions of murder, graphic depictions of violence, noncon, mentions of pregnancy, sunghoon is 43 (set in 2023)

summary ↠ you're an accomplished detective in the detroit area and park sunghoon is a prolific serial killer. when your department sends you on its behalf to pull back his layers, you attempt to convince sunghoon to recount his experiences and unravel the mystery once and for all.

wc ↠ 10.3k

a/n ↠ originally posted on my blog revehae, i am not plagiarizing myself. sunghoon’s american for the plot. part 3/3 of the in my blood series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

the deepest prick of unease settled through you and you shuddered from its nipping cold.

killers were your forte, but none like this. never in your life had you ever met a killer who’d been at their craft for over a decade. they typically got sloppy after the first half, which insinuated that this sunghoon park guy, whoever he was, was far from an ameteur.

“gate twelve,” came the guard’s voice, speaking into a transmitter. he was to escort you to sunghoon’s holding room.

the gate lifted. behind it, you clocked the riveting face of detroit’s worst nightmare, hands cuffed at his back as he sat facing you. there was a sort of twisted grin on his face, not as if he was excited to have a visitor, but excited his visitor had been you.

“good luck with this guy. officers tried to get him to budge. he didn’t take the fifth, but the bastard’s damn good at talking in circles,” the guard whispered in your ear.

“duly noted,” you replied quietly, stepping further and taking the seat across from sunghoon.

the guard left you to your devices, shutting the door behind you and leaving through the passage that led to the gate. complete and total privacy was the only way sunghoon agreed to talk. your department initially refused, insisting there should at least be one or two other officers monitoring the interview, but you let him have his way.

if you wanted to get this man to talk, that was your only option.

“hello, sunghoon. i’m detective ___ from the detroit police department,” you introduced yourself coolly, cloaking your nerves with confidence. never would you show a guy like this any fear.

sunghoon hadn’t stopped grinning since he made eye contact with you. you’d seen pictures at most and he was devilishly handsome, even more so in person, but it didn’t compensate for his unsettling aura. “that’s a beautiful name, detective.”

“flattery will get you nowhere, park.”

“it’s gotten me here,” sunghoon quipped.

“yes, it has. and i suppose you already know why i’m here.”

“yes, i do,” sunghoon said, pleasant thus far. “you want me to tell you about the murders.”

you bobbed your head. “i do. you see, you’re an enigma to me, sunghoon. you turn yourself in, get fingerprinted, and all of the sudden our datsbase’s going off because your prints are connected to three other crimes over the past twenty-five years.”

sunghoon feigned surprise. “wow, it’s been that long?”

“it has,” you replied, in spite of knowing he couldn’t have not been aware. “martina mortes in 1998, sabrina lee in 2005, christine dalton in 2013, and dr. lee this year.”

sunghoon leaned back in his chair. “i’m familiar with those names.”

“you should be. you sexually assaulted and murdered these women,” you spat, none too tender. “except for martina mortes. you only strangled her. do you want to tell me why that it is?”

“what’s the weather like today? i haven’t been outside, but summer has been kind to detroit.”

ignoring him, you persisted, “let me guess. she was your first victim and that kill, unlike the others, was spontaneous. her being dead defeated the purpose of the sex act, didn’t it?”

“well, do you like your partners warm or cold, detective?” sunghoon asked, deflecting.

you were heeding the guard’s warning. it seemed this guy liked to answer questions with questions, your least favorite type of offender. “that’s why when you subsequently added the sex act to part of your crimes, you kept your victims much longer, because you like to see them suffer. until you got bored. then, you killed them and dumped their bodies like trash.”

as if he was disinterested, sunghoon glanced to the side and yawned.

the audacity on this guy was astounding. “am i boring you, park?”

sunghoon replied with total indifference, “if you think you know everything, then why are we here?”

you answered without hesitation, “because i think you’ve wanted to tell someone about what you’ve done for a long time, sunghoon. but you realize that you’re not like other people. i’m giving you the opportunity to get it all off of your chest.”

sunghoon cocked his head to the side, as if he was contemplating your offer. his face was borderline inscrutable. it was difficult, if not impossible, to decipher what he was thinking.

you restrained from heaving a breath. there was a crushing weight on your shoulders, the expectation to get this guy to crack. if you couldn’t do it, nobody would - ever. “how many victims do you have?”

“four.” sunghoon’s answer was quick, automatic. like he didn’t even have to think about it for a second.

folding your arms on the table, you shook your head. “no, i just don’t think that’s true. see, we’re pretty sure martina mortes, your high school girlfriend, was your first victim, and the college professor was your last.”

sunghoon cocked a brow. “but?”

“but there’s no way someone like you could’ve resisted your urges between four kills over the past two decades and then some.”

there was no point in denying the four victims, because you already had substantial proof. nor did sunghoon deny that martina was his first victim, because given the decomposition of the bodies, she died long before the other three. admitting that she wasn’t would be admitting that there were unfound others.

and sunghoon had no intention of implicating himself more than he already had. the only reason he turned himself in was because he didn’t want to prolong the inevitable, for whatever reason. he pulled his lips into a mock frown. “your assumptions about my self-restraint are hurtful,” he replied.

whatever, moron, you thought irritability. “i think they’re more than just assumptions.”

sunghoon teased, “then, let me know when you know something.”

you narrowed your eyes, groaning, “oh, come on. i know and you know that you can’t ignore your desires for a month, let alone over ten years. you have a compulsion. killing makes you feel powerful, it makes you feel in control, and you can’t live without the high it gives you.”

“you make me sound like an addict,” sunghoon remarked, pretending to be offended.

“it wouldn’t be so far from the truth,” you said, glancing over the file at your end of the table. “the first two kills were seven years apart. the second two kills were ten. full offense, i don’t see how you could control yourself for so long.”

“you can believe what you want, detective. i didn’t kill anyone else,” sunghoon lied, not that you ever needed to know.

of course, he couldn’t control himself. the second he took someone’s life, it became a part of him, and his purpose in this world became clear to him. for the first time in his life, he felt as if he had something that made living worthwhile.

you surrendered. it was obvious sunghoon was intelligent and he wouldn’t be easily tricked into confessing. “okay, fine. let’s talk about the victims we know of. tell me about martina mortes.”

“what is there to tell?” sunghoon asked, brow cocked. “we met in junior high. then, in eleventh grade, we got together.”

“tell me about why you killed her,” you insisted, painfully curious. “it happened in chicago, before you moved to detroit over the summer. you killed her in the heat of the moment.”

sunghoon gave the impression that he would take a minute to crack, so you were surprised when he said in response to your prodding, “we got into a wrangle, if you will.”

that much was obvious. “what kind of wrangle?”

the garage was hot and the air was stuffy, making it difficult to breathe. to say nothing of the frustration scorching sunghoon’s skin, his face tensed into an irritated glower.

there was something about women he never liked, the seemingly inherent ability to blow almost anything out of proportion, as exhibited now as his girlfriend screamed in his face. his stepmother was the same, never not coming up with a reason to fuss at him. he was always walking on eggshells around that woman.

martina was bristling. “you always fucking do this, sunghoon.”

sunghoon heaved a breath, sighing, “what - what do i always do, martina?”

“you trivialize everything i go through. you make me feel like i’m overreacting when i’m not, you just refuse to hold yourself accountable,” she spat.

“martina, we’re about to go to college, for fuck’s sake! you can’t focus on your academics and a goddamn child. i don’t get why you won’t just have an abortion and call it a day,” sunghoon roared, heating up a thousand degrees.

“god, do you listen to a word that comes out of my mouth? my parents will kill me, sunghoon. if not for being pregnant at eighteen, then for killing it.”

sunghoon sighed. “i don’t see the part where that’s my problem.”

tears blurred martina’s eyes. she came up to him, shattered by his carelessness and embraced by isolation, and bellowed, “you want to know what your problem is? your problem is that you’re an incompetent bastard with no regard for other people!”

sunghoon’s body was engulfed in flames but his shoulders were cold, and he lost control of his emotions, grabbing martina by the throat. he effortlessly lifted her with a single hand and smashed her against the closest wall none too gently, watching her eyes wince closed.

“you wanna say that again?” sunghoon asked, nothing short of belligerent.

ache spread out through the back of martina’s head, a ceaseless throbbing worse than any hungover. her feet dangled off of the ground, waving and kicking, fingers weakly prying at the ones pressing down on her windpipe. until she was completely still, legs dropping, hands going limp at her sides.

“i didn’t even realize how long i spent standing there, until she felt… empty, and i knew she was gone,” sunghoon confessed, but his tone was far from sympathetic. “she scratched me. you know, when she was trying to pry my hands off. i didn’t know until hours later.”

you shook your head, disdainful. “you killed your pregnant girlfriend?”

sunghoon groaned, “oh, please. i was eighteen. i would’ve been a terrible father.”

“i would be slightly more inclined to accept that as an excuse if it weren’t for the fact that you had a son by sabrina lee only two years later,” you said viciously.

“a lot can change in two years.”

“i’m sure it did.” your eyes flickered over the file again, but nothing would allow you to familiarize yourself with this killer more than talking to him yourself. “for example, you realized just how much you liked killing.”

if sunghoon could’ve raised his hands, he would’ve. “your words, not mine.”

you leaned over the table, unrelenting. “tell me about it, sunghoon. how did it feel when you strangled her with your bare hands? what was it like?”

sunghoon chuckled. “is that what you wanna hear?”

you nodded.

sunghoon leaned in too, getting closer to you, and whispered in your ear, “i squeezed every last breath out of her, one by one, until there was nothing left for her brain and she went slack in my arms. and when i was done, i felt elated. i felt free. it woke up this dormant sensation inside of me that i swore to never repress again, because it made me feel alive.”

your lungs started to feel shallower, like no breath could reach the bottom, and you sensed your heart come to a halt for a minute. sunghoon pulled back, grinning from ear to ear, as if he was proud of himself.

“detective, did i startle you?” sunghoon asked, tilting his head ever so slightly.

your face hardened. “why would you ever think that?”

“you’re not as good at feigning indifference as you think you are, detective. full offense,” he mimicked, mocking.

he’s just a fragile man that kills women to make him feel better about himself, because he needs to be in control. don’t give him power over you. that’s what he wants, you said to yourself, shutting any and all other thoughts. “so, you killed martina, nobody could connect her disappearance to you, and by the time they discovered her body you were already studying for college two states over.”

sunghoon ignored you, at least for a little. he was taking a liking to making you feel uneasy around him. “has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?” he asked out of nowhere.

“you aren’t my type. i don’t fool around with serial killers,” you replied sharply.

sunghoon didn’t seem to be offended, but you didn’t expect him to. “really now? it feels like we’re on a date right now. after all, we are getting to know each other.”

you asked, “have you always had such a distorted perception of normal human interaction?”

sunghoon shot with no hesitation, “have you always had such a sharp mouth?”

you pulled yourself together. the only way you would get anywhere with this guy was by establishing that you were the one in control. “okay, enough. this is my interview, park. you answer my questions, not vice versa.”

“that’s not any fair,” sunghoon told you, that unnerving smile still on his lips. “i don’t have to tell you anything, you know. and without me, you lose the only key to those answers you want so badly.”

“you shutting up doesn’t make much of a difference, considering you’re already dodging my questions,” you replied.

“let’s play a game,” sunghoon suggested.

you weren’t in the mood for any games, but that was sunghoon’s method of operation. “i don’t like games.”

“you’ll like this one,” sunghoon insisted, laughing. “twenty questions.”

your shoulders dropped. “am i supposed to be guessing something?”

sunghoon shook his head, something sinister about him. “no, it’s much easier than that. we take turns asking each other questions until i’ve answered ten and you’ve unanswered ten.”

you stared into his eyes, willing yourself not to break contact. he was just as relentless, silently cocking a brow at you, as if to challenge. and you weren’t an idiot. that’s exactly what it was. you asserted, “i go first, you can only ask me yes or no questions, and if i don’t like your final answer i get to press you for another.”

sunghoon slightly lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “yes, ma’am.”

“okay,” you started. “what made you move from illinois to michigan?”

“i was kicked out of the house. didn’t have anywhere else to go. but i had a buddy here whose family took me in,” sunghoon answered frankly.

you pondered those words, wondering if his aforementioned buddy knew about his secret indulgences. or if he asked why sunghoon’s parents kicked him out of their home. it would’ve been the question scratching at your mind, itching to be answered.

sunghoon’s lips parted. “what kind of perfume are you wearing - honey lavender?”

“yes,” you said, focusing your attention on anything but the possibilities of how he could’ve known that. he’d been with so many people to the point where he just knew. “why did you get kicked out of the house?”

“my dad always thought there was something different about me, ever since i was a child. he was a nasty piece of work. he found my journal, read a couple of things i wrote, and decided there was no hope for me in the house,” sunghoon ranted.

that piqued your curiosity. “what did you write about?”

“wait your turn,” sunghoon sang. “your hair smells just as lovely as the rest of you. do you match scents all the time?”

you were mildly uncomfortable, but given the type of dude he was, you stifled it. “yes. you don’t have to be such a pervert all the time, you know?”

again, sunghoon rolled his shoulders, chirping, “you call it perverse. i call it amusing.”

you almost cursed under your breath when you realize you’d asked him a question. “wait, i didn’t mean to ask…”

sunghoon cut you off, “that’s too bad. it’s my turn again. do you like necklaces?”

“not ones made out of fingers,” you retorted. it was meant to be a joke to hide how unsettled you were, hyper aware of the necklace dangling around your neck. you could feel invisible pressure on your throat.

sunghoon snickered. “i’ll admit that was funny.”

you pressed, “what did you write about in the journal?”

“my dreams,” he admitted vaguely, though in reality, he wrote endlessly about his corrupt fantasies of abusing women. some pages were about his stepsister, and there was a few about what he’d done to martina, though not explicitly. “you have the most beautiful eyes. they’re the perfect shade.”

you were certain he had told many other girls those same words and were not flattered in the slightest. the glare you were giving him was ferocious. “i’m not sure if there’s a question in there somewhere.”

“do you think your eyes are pretty?”

“i haven’t really thought about it,” you told him, quick to change the topic. you’d encountered your fair share of stranglers and it was no secret why he was so interested in your eyes. “was your relationship with your father estranged?”

“nothing was enough for that man. i had the top grades in my class and the highest gpa, and he took my door off its hinges and seized my privacy,” sunghoon told you, words harsh, but his tone plain. “he was obsessed with being the perfect family, something that was ruined the second my mother destroyed everything, and rather than embrace me, he turned me away.”

your eyes flickered. there was something about his language that stood out to you. courtesy of the research you’d done on him beforehand, you were aware that his father was divorced then remarried his stepmother, who already had a daughter sunghoon’s age. but rather than describe his parent’s separation as a divorce, he said his mother destroyed everything.

what a hostile view towards women, you mused, repulsed. but given the nature of his crimes, it adds up. and it might’ve been the origin of his hatred.

his family was twisted. you couldn’t fathom how his father, aware of just how unwell his son was, clocked his abusive fantasies towards women, and instead of getting him the help he needed, he left him to his own devices to slaughter them as he pleased.

you blinked when sunghoon leaned, craning his face towards yours, and snapped out of your reverie when you jolted back.

“there you are,” sunghoon said, chuckling at your surprise. it was all over your face. “i’ve been talking to myself all this time. you must’ve been thinking about me.”

“no, not really. i was wondering if i forgot to feed my dog last night.” it was an obvious lie, but you would never encourage this guy to feel more important than he was.

amusement gleamed in sunghoon’s eyes. he was having a wonderful time, truth be told. had you not been so pretty, he would’ve clamped up like a crab, but you were so pleasing to the eye that he didn’t mind confessing a couple of truths. “a dog. that’s interesting. i myself have always wanted a pet - a snake. the constricting kind are my favorite.”

“you don’t say,” you droned, voice dripping with crisp irony.

your sarcasm was chucklesome to sunghoon, but his words were the truth. he remembered, all those years ago, asking his father for a pet snake. and when he refused, sunghoon, in turn, killed the family dog. he added, “they don’t just suffocate their prey. they coil around them, almost like a straitjacket, and cut off its blood supply.”

you replied, “yeah, but animals hunt to survive. you hunted because you had nothing better to do with your life.”

“in my humble opinion, we’re all animals of nature, and creatures of sin,” sunghoon told you in a whisper, as if he were telling you a secret of some kind. “anyways, it’s my turn now.”

you resisted a disgruntled exhale.

like his questions couldn’t get any more absurd and strangely perverse, sunghoon asked, “when you shower, what do you use - a washcloth or a loofah?”

“that’s not a yes or no question,” you replied with total disinterest.

“it’s hardly any less simple.”

“a washcloth,” you replied, though only because you needed to ask him your questions and resisting an answer would only waste valuable time. “why did you wait so long before killing sabrina lee?”

sunghoon smiled at the mention of his son’s mother, but the grin on his lips was distinguishable from the others. like he didn’t even realize he was smiling. “she was special. i loved her.”

“no, you didn’t. you don’t hurt people that you love.”

“maybe that’s true for you, but you’ve called me everything but a child of god and it’s clear you don’t think you and i are alike,” sunghoon said. “i don’t miss her, though, because she left a better print on this world. a world that was never made for her in the first place.”

a better print on this world. your brows furrowed, until you remembered the child they shared together. “you know what i think? i think whatever you felt for your son’s mother was the closest thing to love you’ll ever be able to pull from your ugly black heart.”

“you’re very strongly opinionated,” sunghoon responded, ever so unbothered. maybe some decades ago, it would’ve irked him to the point of breaking, but he was much more in charge of his impulses now.

you lifted your shoulders, gazing at him with the most discerning of eyes. all he could think about was how nice it would’ve been to seize you by the throat and watch the light dull from them.

to your surprise, sunghoon’s next question was not as a deviant as you assumed it would be, asking, “what made you decide you wanted to become a detective?”

“because of the people i used to know that aren’t around to tell you why,” you answered distantly, before pressing, “how was sabrina different, sunghoon?”

sunghoon perched over the table again, an uncomfortable distance close to you, made worse by his whispers. “because unlike the others, she didn’t beg me to stop - she begged me to finish. for it to be over. and when i wouldn’t, she begged me to kill her.”

the mental picture you got was cruel. your heart hurt for these women that had no idea what hit them until it was too late.

“i put these women out of their misery,” sunghoon continued.

you spat in a heartbeat, “the misery that you forced them to endure.”

sunghoon winced. “no, these women were miserable long before they met me. they were just ignorant of it. impressionability is a weakness.”

“either you have one hell of a god complex or you are working overtime to justify your sick actions.”

sunghoon merely shrugged, vicious and ominous and everything in between. there was something so dark about his spirit. you could feel it just from sitting within a couple of feet of him.

sunghoon’s memories were triggered. he was reminiscing about the times he shared with his son’s mother, how perfect she was. there were no other women like her. she was his favorite victim, someone he took his sweet time with, while the others were disposed of in a few months time.

midnight loomed, riding on the tail of dusk. sunghoon was counting down the minutes until the clock struck twelve, a self-imposed rule to gauge his willpower. the second the hour came, he bolted from the crackling sound of the cabin’s fireplace to a bedroom, anticipation like a stimulant.

the wooden floorboards creaked the closer sunghoon crept to the door. save for himself and the woman chained to the bedpost, the cabin was void of life. it belonged to the parents of a close friend who ensured it was vacant whenever sunghoon needed a place to indulge his twisted fantasies.

which was basically all of the time.

he meandered inside with a crisp bottle of water in hand, droplets condensing at its sides. sabrina laid right where he left her, just as broken, dreading her next breath. tape adhered to the flesh over her mouth, muffling her whimpers. there was nobody around for miles, the cabin was totally isolated, but it was a safety measure.

the chains were used likewise. when sunghoon was not there, the restraints kept her prisoner. sunghoon, reckless as he could be back then, was many things and stupid was not one of them. the chains stretched long enough to reach the bathroom but no further and he had his loyal friend help him test it after each victim.

“can you go further?” sunghoon called out.

heeseung’s lower limbs were shackled, ceasing his footsteps just shy of the hallway as he came to a total standstill. “not if i want my legs to follow me,” he’d retorted.

sunghoon had snickered. “good.”

had sunghoon been there, though, he would take the chains off. none of this was fair, even sunghoon didn’t believe that, but not giving them the chance to fight was too unfair. he needed not to chain them when he had the gift of his big, burly arms.

sunghoon waltzed over with a lighthearted and carefree gait, as if this was just another wednesday afternoon to him. and in some sick, despicable way, that wasn’t too far from the truth. he ripped the tape from sabrina’s lips, watching her face tense with pain.

“sunghoon,” sabrina rasped, voice croaking. he could tell from her flushed face and misty eyes that she’d been crying. “i’m thirsty.”

sunghoon cocked a brow, glancing to his hand. he had an irritating knack for playing dumb. it used to be endearing. now, with everything she knew to be true torn from her bare hands, sabrina didn’t know what to think. “what - you want this?”

sabrina nodded.

“yeah?” he popped off the top, throwing back a few gulps just before releasing a satisfied, “ah.”

sabrina’s lips trembled. “please.”

had she been anybody else, sunghoon probably would’ve dangled the water in her face just to snatch it away, but there was something about sabrina that made him gravitate towards her. in a rare moment of benevolence, sunghoon handed her the water, letting her drink.

she didn’t drink in short sips, but in giant gulps as if she’d known for some time that they’d be her last. when her thirst was satiated, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, handing the bottle back, and whispered, “thank you.”

sunghoon set the drink aside before returning to her, unshackling her limbs. sabrina’s breath quickened the moment the chains clacked harshly against the floor and nearly stilled when he brought his hand to her flushed face, tracing her chapped lips with a calloused thumb.

his thoughts rushed with unbridled exhilaration, ablaze with suspense, but he slowed for a moment to marvel at her loveliness. sunghoon’s hand touched her hair, touch tender in ways it would never be again, because he would never again know a woman as great as her.

he brought his lips to her ear, nibbling at the shell before asking, “do you know what i want you to do?”

sabrina bobbed her head, starting to halfheartedly peel off her clothes without needing to be told. with so many days held prisoner in this hell hole, it became routine. like she’d already resigned herself to her fate and knew sunghoon getting his way was inevitable. he always got what he wanted.

to be frank, it came out of nowhere. she never saw this twisted side of him coming. all she knew was that she became suspicious of his lack of family presence and it was too late when she saw him for the monster that he was, and then she woke here.

it had to have been months ago, although sabrina couldn’t have been sure how many. everyday started to bleed into the static hopelessness of another. sometimes sunghoon wouldn’t show for days, leaving her to live antsily, dreading his unavoidable return. other times, he would spend a day or two in the cabin, fucking her into kingdom come.

as if she couldn’t be any more faultless. sunghoon smirked. “smart girl,” he purred. he would never deny her wit, given that she’d caught onto him, but her lack of strength was her only vice.

sunghoon restlessly tossed his own shirt over his naked shoulder and came to step out of his boxers. there was mischief on his plush lips. he knew something sabrina only knew from the unkind churn of her gut.

the end was more than near. it loomed over her, relentless and remorseless, and all she could like it to was dark and leaden clouds in a somber sky. even then, there was almost nothing she wouldn’t give to see the world again, but she’d long kissed that hope goodbye.

“down,” sunghoon told her, tone dark and stern.

she pliantly did as told, bare back meeting the mattress. sunghoon crept over her, hard cock twitching at the sight of her so meek. typically, he liked when they put up a fight, but sabrina knew better.

sunghoon could tell she was fighting back tears, willing herself not to cry with a stabilized breath, but her endeavors were in vain the second he started to force his way inside her. they escaped her eyes and dampened her cheeks, unable to overlook the agony of the stretch.

“shh, baby,” sunghoon crooned in her ear, the weight of his body bearing down onto hers. “what’s the matter? you used to beg me to fuck you.”

sabrina shook her head, silently pleading for a mercy she knew deep down that sunghoon wasn’t capable of. “please make it quick.”

sunghoon’s tone was almost sweet. “but baby, you told me you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, remember?”

sunghoon knew that his words weren’t reassuring and he didn’t intend for them to be. there was a reason why he loved how she tried to hold herself together. he got to push her limits, find her breaking point. in the end, she would get her wish, and in a way, sunghoon thought that that was love.

her walls were just as tight and vice-like as they’d been all those times he’d taken her before. if sunghoon got close enough to her, let his hands wander and tease as they never not had done, sabrina would still involuntarily gush around his cock. like her body knew she was forever a slave to his touch.

just looking at her face as she wept sent shock waves of pleasure rippling through his dick and chest. sabrina didn’t cry in noisy, gasping sobs. her tears dripped from her thick lashes quietly, mouth parting in the most silent of whimpers.

and she orgasmed the same way, sunghoon remembered. back when things were normal between them, when she begged for him to fuck her, as he called it, her release was marked by a volatile shudder, but a silent cry of ecstasy.

sunghoon pushed sabrina’s lips into an upward curling with his thumb and index finger. “smile for the camera, sabrina,” he whispered.

sabrina’s brows furrowed, painfully oblivious to the camera tracking her every emote. sunghoon couldn’t not document his deeds. there was something about being able to play them over, immersing himself back in that moment over and over, even when the life itself could not be so easily brought back.

but for sunghoon, they could be. when he rewatched these videos again and again, it was like he could feel their pulses thump in their neck, resuscitating.

sunghoon’s hands were everywhere, fingertips traipsing towards sabrina’s neck where marks lingered from all the times he’d strangled her, only to slacken his grip when she was just shy of passing out. the bruises were different colors, indicative of different healing stages. sabrina tensed, startled, and wondered when it would all be over.

“sunghoon.” sabrina was overcome with defeat. her voice cracked as she asked, “sunghoon, please just cum.”

sunghoon’s face tensed with pleasure. “fuck, babe, when you say it like that…”

he stood at the brink of climax, threatening to teeter over, and there was only one thing that could knock him over quicker than anything else. it wouldn’t be anything she said, anything she did, but only a weakness sunghoon had the power to wield against himself.

“you want me to finish?”

sabrina nodded.

sunghoon chuckled darkly. “then, in that case, it’s time for you to get your wish, baby.”

he watched her shoulders slump, releasing all hope of ever knowing anything different again and accepting that this was where things ended. thinking about the feeling he remembered none too distantly, one that almost seemed to keep his blood pumping through him, in a way, sunghoon’s fingers itched.

sunghoon lifted his hands, bringing them to sabrina’s face, but before he could touch her, she exclaimed, “wait, sunghoon!”

his brow cocked.

sabrina’s lips trembled. “can you tell me what today is? please?”

“wednesday,” sunghoon replied, holding his hands around her neck, but keeping his grip slack. for now.

“wednesday,” sabrina said, pulling her lips into the faintest of smiles as tears blurred her vision. “will you tell jake that i hope he has an amazing thursday?”

“that can be arranged,” sunghoon said, grinning.

sabrina nodded, setting her mind at ease. she’d already made peace with this day some months ago. she never knew when it come, but she saw it as something bound to happen. “thank you,” she whispered.

those were her last words. because when sunghoon tightened his grip at her throat, almost like tightening a noose, he couldn’t bring himself to stop in spite of the agonized gleam in her stare. and then her stare was empty, and sunghoon had already emptied his load inside of her.

to describe the sensation he got from killing in a way that captured its essence would be impossible. it was more than feeling the life leave her. it was more than watching her eyes become soulless. it was a release, a way of relinquishing all of the vacantness he harbored, and knowing that his heart was still there.

it would always return, sometimes as soon as the next day, but for a minute, sunghoon was whole and no drug could replicate that kind of contentedness.

sunghoon did tell jake what sabrina said. he wasn’t all too sure why, maybe it was because she was his mother and jake was her son that they’d created together, and sunghoon would never have it any other way. for her to be the one to give him a child, he couldn’t imagine any other woman in her place.

it was almost unfortunate that she had to go so soon. even sunghoon thought that her demise was premature. had she not grown so suspicious of him, sunghoon could imagine making her his wife, maybe even spending the rest of his life with her.

their marriage wouldn’t have been without his secret dark life, but sabrina wouldn’t’ve been a victim. alas, loose ends needed to be tied. sunghoon couldn’t trust that she would’ve kept quiet, and even then, she was in a much more fitting place for an angel like herself.

there was much of this memory that would be abridged. never would sunghoon reveal anything about the cabin or the dear friend that helped him commit his indulgences, or even the existence of the tapes. if they found those videos, that was proof of murder with a grand total of 106 women.

the air around you was heavy and the words you’d just been fed weren’t easily take in. “what you’re just told me is really sad.”

but sunghoon didn’t look sad. whether or not he ever truly cared for sabrina would perpetually be a mystery. “maybe,” he started. “but tell me that you wouldn’t hurt the person you loved most if it was what was best for them.”

“i did. but what i had to do is different from what you were.”

sunghoon’s interest was piqued. “how come?”

“it was my responsibility to decide whether or not to take my sister off of the ventilator. there was no hope for her,” you confessed, though brushed over it quickly. “what happened to your ex-wife?”

“not that interesting of a story,” sunghoon said. “she wasn’t sabrina, i got tired of her, here we are.”

“and yet she wasn’t a one-off like martina mortes.”

“had she been a one-off, my body count would be one number higher. that was a favor,” sunghoon told you, grinning as if you actually had something to be grateful for.

you didn’t waste a second to accuse, “because you need to keep your victims to extract all the relief that you can from them, right?”

“i’m afraid it’s not your turn to ask questions,” sunghoon replied tauntingly. “what was your sister like - did she have long hair? what color were her eyes? how long were her lashes?”

sick son of a bitch, bellowed the voice in your head, though you willed yourself to remain composed. it was plain on his face that sunghoon didn’t want an answer - he wanted a reaction. and as furious as that made you, you couldn’t let him provoke you. “that’s none of your business,” you said, but there was a loophole. “but she was beloved.”

that qualified as an answer. sunghoon glanced at you in a way that made you feel see-through, as if he knew that you were threatening to come apart at the seams and didn’t buy your nonchalance for a minute.

sated, he went on to feed you bullshit about his ex-wife’s death, though there were only four people who knew what truly happened to her and one of them was dead.

sunghoon remembered that day like it happened yesterday. it was a thursday evening when he’d come home from work. christine had picked jake up from school hours ago and sunghoon wholly expected to come home to her in the kitchen.

it was dark outside. the moon was a mere sliver and the stars were duller than they typically were, almost like they had witnessed something that drained their spirits. sunghoon remembered struggling to identify his house key, trying each of them until the door clicked open.

“i’m home,” sunghoon’s voice thundered as he turned to lock the door.

there were quick footsteps from upstairs. jake, sunghoon thought, more than familiarized with the sound. but there was none of christine’s usual voice.

“dad, i’m hungry,” came jake’s voice from the stairs, coming down them one by one.

that in itself should’ve been suspicious, but instead, all sunghoon could think about was how sabrina would’ve already fed her son. “hasn’t christine made dinner by now?” sunghoon asked, irritated.

jake shook his head, though sunghoon couldn’t see. he was hanging his coat on the rack, like he always did after he locked the door. “she can’t right now.”

“why not?”

“because i think she’s dead,” jake replied, nonchalant as ever.

that was the very second that sunghoon turned around and noticed that jake was stained with blood. it was all over his face and the spots would probably never come out of his clothes, not that they would be kept.

for half a minute, sunghoon was genuinely stunned.

jake didn’t say what happened, and there was no need to. “the blood won’t come off,” was all he said, showing his father the pair of hands that he’d washed with vigor.

sunghoon heaved a breath. he should’ve seen this coming. jake took after his father and he never liked christine. to say the least, sunghoon couldn’t blame him. “where is she?”

“where they all go,” jake replied, as if it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to him.

sunghoon headed for the basement with quick footsteps, jake following behind. if somebody were to come down there, they wouldn’t suspect a thing. not only was it decorated to look like one, but it was used as a man cave. behind a soundproof wall, though, was a dungeon for his prisoners.

in this case, there was a trail of blood leading to the wall, proof that jake had somehow brought christine there after he hurt her. sunghoon entered the cell and saw her there behind the bars, coming to her side to check her pulse.

pressing his thumb to her wrist and neck, sunghoon sensed a pulse, though it was weakening. “she’s not dead,” he said, wresting his phone out of his pocket.

jake didn’t look so relieved, but he didn’t voice his dissatisfaction. “are you mad?”

sunghoon glanced down at christine. jake had used a kitchen knife, attacking her in the heat of the moment. she was butchered and blood-splattered, on the verge of slaughter, and yet sunghoon couldn’t find it in him to offer any compassion. “that you hurt her? no. that you made a mess? a little.”

now that was a relief. to jake, at least back then, his dad was the coolest guy that he knew.

there was quite the scene in front of him and sunghoon didn’t have a thing for blood. he shook his head in reproach, chastising, “i’m going to teach you the right way to get rid of a woman when you’re sick of her.”

that piqued jake’s curiosity.

sunghoon was quick to dial heeseung’s number. he had medical experience and that was what he needed right now. when the call connected, he said, “i’m in calling in a favor.”

heeseung patched her up again. at least for a few months, sunghoon still needed her breathing. they scrubbed the floors free of blood, burned jake’s bloodied clothes, and it was as if nothing ever happened.

what sunghoon had told you was only a fraction of the truth, but still enough to make you want to grimace. it bemused you how he got away with murdering his ex-wife and nobody thought to suspect her husband with a track record of disappearing partners.

“you want to know what’s really amazing?” you started, though it was more like disgusting. “how three of the women you’ve killed were your significant others, and somehow, you’ve only now been incriminated.”

sunghoon looked proud of himself. had it not been for jake, he probably would’ve never been caught. “sabrina never told anyone that we dated, or that she had a baby by me. her parents wanted her to focus on her education. if they knew she’d gotten pregnant, she would’ve been the black sheep.”

“and you took advantage of that,” you hissed.

“so what if i did?” sunghoon asked, careless. “not to mention that dozens of teenage girls in chicago were going missing at the time. they added martina to that number and called it a day. is that sad? maybe. but that’s how it works.”

“and as for your co-worker?” you asked sharply. the boldness of his crimes astounded you. “her husband grieves her. were you having an affair?”

the thought of her made sunghoon chuckle. oh, were we, he reminisced. it was a misfortune that he didn’t get the chance to have his way with her the way that he wanted. and for that reason, he couldn’t regale you in a truthful account of her death.

what happened that day, the day his co-worker died, challenged his fate and was the reason that he only now knew the imprisonment he thrusted upon others.

sunghoon knew when he spotted her that he would revel in her vulnerability. married, but she hardly wore her ring. her kind was the most naive - the kind that believed ecstasy was without costly sin. one way or another, she had to reap what she sowed.

he worked his way inside her pants, but it was hardly any work; she was on a desperate pursuit for pleasure and when sunghoon promised it to her, offering content on a silver platter, she thought less with her brain and more with the throbbing between her legs.

for months, sunghoon slept with her, which was far from typical. if she were anybody else, sunghoon would have pursued her for a couple of weeks time, then banished her to the underground prison. though considering he already had a victim down there at the time, he had some time to spare.

it was no secret that she had grown fond of sunghoon in ways she hadn’t been of her husband in a very long time, and though sunghoon found her to be special, in a way, he could not reciprocate her feelings. when sunghoon saw her, all he felt was the overwhelming urge to use her with a lick of remorse, and squeeze those panting breaths out of her.

it was a shame that he never got the opportunity. sunghoon already tested the bounds of his self-restraint when it came to her, each of their encounters consensual with her oblivious to his deepest, darkest desires. sometimes, his fingers would wander to her neck, but even that was wanted.

what was not wanted was the tyranny over her body that preceded her death. it bemused sunghoon to learn that his son, along with two of his friends that he thought of like brothers and sunghoon thought of like sons, ravaged her to the brink of being unrecognizable.

had sunghoon held control over the situation, he wouldn’t have cared what happened to her and would have even permitted them to go to town. but what happened was somehow darker. when he got a call from the professor late that day, hearing her broken sobs over the phone, he told her to meet him at his house.

that was his first mistake.

it wasn’t that she didn’t come. she made it there, hopeful to confide in sunghoon about the nightmare that tore her apart, but it was jake that opened the front door. and when she entered, there was no hope out of her coming out breathing.

jake had been a downward spiral ever since a month ago when he stumbled upon the tape of his mother. ever since he was a boy, jake watched every tape he could find of his father’s dark life, even sharing them with his friends as if they were movies and not snuff.

but this was not like those. this was his mother. and watching her suffer, listening to her final request before her untimely death, broke jake in ways which he would never recover.

jake had known since he was little that his mother was dead and his father was to blame, but his understanding of what happened to her was skewed. if he’d known eighteen years ago what he knew today, when sunghoon had his own son aid him in his mother’s demise, none of it would have ever happened.

to say nothing of the fact that what sunghoon had jake do was only a mere fraction of his mother’s suffering. jake would fetch things from the other side of the cabin he vaguely remembered visiting every now and then for three months. when he was not there, which was often, he would lie to his neighbors about her whereabouts.

even though when she died he was only a kid being taken advantage of, jake hated himself for letting it happen right under his nose. he wished he would’ve told his neighbors the truth. maybe if he had, his mother would still be alive and kicking, and he would know the only woman he ever cared for.

that was why he went after his professor that he knew his father had also been eyeing closely and having an affair with. her fate was obvious. sunghoon would entertain her for a while, somehow charm and woo his way into her pants like he did every other woman, kidnap her and keep her downstairs for three months, then kill her and identify the next victim.

but sunghoon’s liking of her was also hopelessly discernable. she was living too long. and that was a telltale sign that sunghoon took a special interest in his son’s professor, something that jake feared would rival the affection (if it existed) for his mother.

jake was not keen on having his mother replaced. the last time it happened, he snapped and maimed his stepmother. and he was not afraid of doing so again.

when jake exacted revenge, it felt like nothing he had ever done before. vengeance tasted like heaven. his professor tasted elysian. and he had never felt so good about himself, but then the high wore off, comparable to the fading release sunghoon got after strangling his victims, and familiar pain seared through him once further.

vindictiveness was a lethal venom, festering quickly upon injection. after jake got what he wanted, there was a greed to replicate that feeling, in spite of the fact that nothing would compare to that first blow. in his own way, unlike his father’s but similar nonetheless, he was pivoting towards release.

jake was on the brink of something like psychosis when he heard those knocks on his front door. and when he peered outside, spotting the professor, his recklessness got the better of him.

she was dead before she even stepped inside the house. jake yanked her inside, brought her downstairs, and forced himself onto her for a second time that day. when she wept for sunghoon, wishing he would come home, jake almost pitied her naïveté.

if jake hadn’t killed her, wrapping his hands around her throat the way that he knew his father had been yearning to, sunghoon would have.

the look on his professor’s face was pitiful. “sorry,” jake said, though he clasped his hands around her throat harder. “but i have to make a statement.”

it was not particularly a difficult thing to do, at least not to stomach, but killing her was merely just a means to an end. he didn’t get off to it like his father would’ve, jake’s interest lay inflicting psychological damage, but he did it because he knew how much it pleasured sunghoon to squeeze the life out of his victims.

and if jake couldn’t have what he wanted, then as long as he lived, neither would his dad for tearing it away.

sunghoon came home moments too late. jake left his professor in the cellar for his father to find, eyes wide and face pale.

sunghoon glanced around. he saw her car parked outside, but no sign of her. when jake came from his bedroom on the upper floor, a creeping feeling of deja vu flooded sunghoon’s chest, but he asked, “where is she?”

jake’s face was expressionless. “she’s dead,” he replied, confident. “i mean it this time.”

sunghoon shook his head. “you killed her?”

“wasn’t it you that said you were going to teach me the proper way to dispose of a woman when i’m sick of her?” jake asked, approaching his father as he crept down the stairs.

though sunghoon wasn’t pleased, he willed himself to calm down. “did you strangle her?”

“yes.”

sunghoon figured, from the lack of blood staining his house this time around. “will you tell me about it?”

that caught jake off-guard. he expected his father to be angry, to let loose. he had to have been dreaming of choking her since the day he laid eyes on her. “you sick fuck,” jake sneered.

sunghoon snickered, unbothered. that’s rich. “who do you think you got it from?”

obviously, from the face jake was making, he didn’t like that. his nonchalant attitude dissipated. “i’m not like you!”

“keep telling yourself that. maybe one day you’ll delude yourself into believing it,” sunghoon replied, hanging his coat on the rack in spite of knowing he would be leaving again soon.

“i’m not like you - i mean that.”

sunghoon, miffed, rolled his eyes and said, “come on, son. you think i don’t know you and your friends have been watching my tapes for the past decade and then some like they’re cartoons?”

“but not mom’s,” jake spat, loathing fizzing in his stare.

sunghoon froze, then spun around. “is that what this is all about?”

jake nodded, pleased his father was finally getting the picture. “i found it in your study. you hid it more carefully than the others, because she was special or you didn’t want me to find it, i don’t know.”

sunghoon heaved a breath. “you were never supposed to see that.”

“but i did,” jake replied. “and i’ve suffered every day for the past month because of that.”

sunghoon shot without hesitation, “a suffering you brought upon yourself. nobody asked you to go snooping around in my things.”

jake’s lips were twisted into the meanest snarl sunghoon had ever seen. emotion wrecked through him in its totality. “is that what’s important to you? i shouldn’t be surprised. you couldn’t even spare your own son’s mother from your heartlessness.”

sunghoon massaged his temple, summoning all of his willpower. “please,” he groaned, sensing an incoming headache. “women are weak, cheating whores. just look at your professor. maybe your mother wasn’t, but she was a liability.”

if that was supposed to console jake, it had the complete opposite effect. “are you saying she deserved it?”

“i’m saying that you’ve always been too soft,” sunghoon said, not bothering to sugarcoat his chastising. “just like your mother. even when you were a child. that’s why i had you help me, i hoped you would harden up a little.”

jake scoffed. “unbelievable.”

“your mother went quietly. she didn’t even fight it, jake. so, why are you?”

“because of that,” jake told him, vitriol in his voice. “she didn’t ask you to stop one time. she just asked you to get it over with.”

sunghoon tipped his head back. “ah, yes. she really was perfect, wasn’t she?”

that was all it took to kindle an unforgiving rage within jake and in a moment of fury, flickering through him in a flash, jake lifted his hand to smack his father.

sunghoon caught his wrist, as if this weren’t the first time this had happened and it was wholeheartedly expected. his voice lowered to a mere hiss, “i’ve never laid a hand on you. ever in your life. don’t make today be the day i start.”

jake glared, but wrested his way out of his father’s grip and backed away.

sunghoon smoothed down his shirt and headed for the kitchen, knowing jake would follow. this conversation was far from over. “now, if you excuse me, i have to clean up your mess,” he said, pulling a burner phone out of a drawer. “if you don’t mind.”

“i can clean up my own mess,” jake replied, scowling.

setting the phone on the counter, sunghoon reached for a glass. “no, you can’t. not without digging your own grave. unless you want to go to prison, pack your shit, ask one of your buddies if you can stay with them for a few days, and take the tapes with you. hide them.”

jake made a face. “what are you talking about?”

sunghoon sighed. “we can’t get away with this one, son. her car’s parked outside. there’s too many loose ends.”

“we can get rid of the car. you don’t have to go to jail!” jake shouted.

“it’s either you or me. frankly, i’m doing you a favor. you wouldn’t last two seconds behind bars,” sunghoon hissed. he grabbed another glass, sliding it across the counter, then said, “now, wine? you know, to celebrate your old man going away? i believe that’s what you want.”

jake shook his head. never in his life had he been so conflicted. his father that he’d been so bent on despising until he the day he died was voluntarily confessing to a crime he didn’t commit, just so that his son wouldn’t have to suffer in prison.

“why are you doing this?” jake asked, bristling with emotion.

sunghoon sighed. “because i love you, son. even if you don’t think so. and because your mother would be turning in her grave if she knew you were in prison.”

jake blew out a breath. then, after a moment of reluctance, he grabbed the glass on the counter and reached for the wine bottle.

sunghoon snickered. “atta boy.”

“i wonder how your son reacted when he learned you were going to prison for murder,” you said, pondering. “you live in the same house. i wonder how he didn’t know.”

sunghoon lied, “he was at a friend’s house when i killed her. doesn’t like that it was his favorite professor.”

you nodded along, buying his lies. “that is a lot to take in. i mean, imagine your dad was having an affair with your favorite science professor. then, he kills her, like how he killed your mom.”

sunghoon shrugged his shoulders. “have you never heard the phrase ‘the heart wants what it wants?’”

“i have,” you replied. “and i guess your heart wanted to stop the function of others.”

sunghoon laughed at his own expense. “oh, please. you give me too much credit. you shouldn’t make me out to be more romantic than i am.”

you shook your head in disappointment. “you make these women want you, and then you undo everything. that has to be part of the amusement to you.”

“it gets a chuckle or two out of me.”

your lips were tempted to curl into a frown for the umpteenth time that day alone. “why?”

sunghoon leaned up in his chair, exclaiming, “because it’s fun!”

you were going to say something, but he didn’t give you the chance.

sunghoon continued, “everyday, as adults, we do the same job for hours and come home. people want excitement in their lives. women get exhausted of coming home to their husbands or nobody at all.”

your stare was blank. “and your point is?”

“i didn’t just make those women want me, baby. i made them need me,” sunghoon told you smugly. “i brought a spark to their lives, and i took it away just as fast. and i do it… because i can.”

“because you could,” you corrected, confident he would never be free of this place for as long as he lived. “you’re going to be in here a very, very long time.”

sunghoon grinned. “i wouldn’t be so sure.”

you cocked your brow. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“wouldn’t you like to know?” sunghoon teased. you hated the smugness in his tone. like he knew something that you didn’t.

the door opened, and the guard from earlier returned. “i hate to interrupt, but it’s time for the count,” he said, coming behind sunghoon to undo his cuffs.

it all happened in a blink. sunghoon’s weight was pressed flush against yours, roughly thrusting you into the table. your body screamed, agony spreading through your side, but your gun was in a lockbox outside the room.

sunghoon knew from your conversations alone that you weren’t the type to go quietly. your first instinct was to fight back. naturally, you struggled against his hold, refusing to bend to his will even as panic shot through your chest. your whole body was on guard, aiming for survival.

but to your misfortune, your might was no match for sunghoon’s. you glanced to the guard for assistance, but when he only stood there as if he was waiting for it to end, the most unsettling feeling of realization washed over you.

“don’t fight him,” the guard said, arms crossed. “you won’t win.”

sunghoon snickered when he noticed your eyes widen in shock. you hadn’t seen that coming. though you tried to resist, it was over once his slender fingers came to your throat, and you genuinely feared for your life.

you didn’t realize how good you had it just being able to breathe until you couldn’t anymore. your breaths wouldn’t come. it felt as if your bones were being crushed. your whole body was on fight mode, but it was like sunghoon had the reins, shutting down your senses one by one.

“you put up a good fight, detective,” sunghoon whispered darkly in your ear, admiring your struggle.

your lips parted, but you couldn’t speak no matter how hard you tried. your self-preservation instincts were no match against him. all you could do was meet sunghoon’s stare. the pressure on your neck was too much to handle, and in seconds, you were out.

“lights out,” sunghoon said. he released your throat, having no intention of killing you and leading you for dead, but knowing that you would likely regain consciousness in a matter of seconds, he grabbed you by the hair, smashing your head flat against the table to subdue you.

heeseung winced, but he did nothing to step in. “poor girl,” he mumbled under his breath, pitying you. “had enough?”

“for now,” sunghoon replied. “let’s go.”

heeseung gave sunghoon a uniform to wear so that he would blend in amongst the uniforms like heeseung had and when he was ready, the two of them fled before they could be deterred.

when they had successfully gotten away, heeseung asked with his hand on a steering wheel, “you know that i don’t agree with this, right?”

sunghoon snickered. it had absolutely been said. “you haven’t agreed with my lifestyle for the past twenty-five years, yet you still help me. why?”

heeseung frowned. sometimes, he asked himself the same question, but deep down inside, he knew the answer. “because we may not share blood, but we’re brothers,” heeseung replied. “and for my brother, i’ll do anything you need.”

sunghoon quipped, “like smuggle me across the border?”

“like smuggle you across the border,” heeseung said, chuckling. “when we get there, there’s gonna be this dude named sunoo. he’s gonna help you out. i’ll be in touch.”

sunghoon nodded. “i can’t thank you enough, man.”

“just lay low and stay out of trouble,” heeseung said, shaking his head.

sunghoon grinned with mischief. he was already thinking about all of the beautiful women he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “no promises,” he answered, sighing contentedly.

taglist: @ribbioniki, @yunakj, @vvenusoncasual, @lovingvoidgoatee, @iloveu-143, @bigwforjay, @hooniehon, @adoredbyjay, @cloud-lyy, @firstclassjaylee, @captainsaposts, @tinycatharsis, @511rkive , @sangiewife

1K notes View Post

zhangyi-johee

2 years ago

NO LOVE

pairings : boyfriend’s friend!lee heeseung x fem body!reader

genre : smut! smut! smut! minor dni!

word count : 2.8k

summary : you don’t know that the person you met at the bar and you fucked is a friend of your ex-boyfriend.

warnings : read at your own risk. heeseung is obsessed on reader‚ reader lost her virginity‚ switch roleplay‚ dom!heeseung x sub!reader‚ mirror sex‚ spitting‚ wall fucking‚ unprotected sex‚ let me know if i miss something.

author notes : ask me a question in my inbox‚ please do interact and try to request something‚ also don’t think about the title of the fic cause i think this ‘no love’ title is fit. yea (?).

“ YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DON’T MOVE! ” you shouted at your boyfriend who should give an another explanation to you.

you ascertained that he cheated‚ and you can endure with your own two eyes that he is cheating on you.

you can witness how sweet your boyfriend is to another girl while you keep quiet on one side and ponder whether he loves you or not.

he was giving you a random sign‚ you don’t even know if he truly loved you or no.

it’s pure and you know you can’t be so blind that you don’t see everything.

“ don’t know what to do with you. ” you thought‚ you sat on the edge of the bed and covered your face with both of your hands.

“ i thought what my friend was saying was fake‚" you whispered "I still chose you." you added.

“ bab– ”

“ SHUT UP!!! ” you shouted when you heard your boyfriend’s worried voice.

you are fed up with his explanation and you will never again waste your time just to listen to his nonsense reason.

“ i... ” you held your breath wondering if you were going to say what you had to say or not‚ because you never want to lose your boyfriend.

you’ve been together for almost two years but you’ve given your love to him‚ you love him and he loves you but at one time you couldn’t stop fighting because of your boyfriend’s playboy habits.

you have been abandoned by many people because of your boyfriend, even your sister you didn’t trust, whether it was your friend or your boyfriend’s friend, your family and relatives.

“ we should break up. ” you spoke, your broken heart was destroyed when you said that, as if you were trying to say it, but you know it’s for your own good that you and your boyfriend break up.

“ no... you can’t do this to me. ” he denied, your eyes closed and you felt hot tears running down your cheeks.

“ this is the only thing that is good for us. ” you said, you took your bag and walked out of your boyfriend’s condo, crying and walking down the hallway.

you bumped into someone but you didn’t pay attention to it and entered the elevator as if you were an arrogant person who didn’t care about the people around you.

“ fuck boy! ” you whispered.

you’re drunk and out of your mind‚ you don’t even know why you’re getting drunk on someone who hasn’t been loyal to you.

“ one martini‚ please. ” you heard a male voice in front of you.

you looked at his face and you saw the incredible charm of his face.

he was smiling as he ordered his drink, you could see his white teeth and protruding bones in his jaw.

he is sitting next to you and his seat is facing you but his eyes are on the waitress while waiting to make his wine.

one of his hands was leaning on the table, his seat was spread out, he was wearing a tuxedo and his dress shirt was open with two buttons.

the view you see right in front now is heavenly and it seems as if your mind is painting the image of his face.

the man says a polite ‘thanks’ when the waitress gave him the order he was waiting for‚ he took a sip and sighed as the chemical liquid went down his throat.

he looked at you with a smirk, your eyes widened when he focused his gaze on you.

“ what’s up, gorgeous? ” he said and drank his martini again, looking at you as he drank his drink.

you looked at his moving adams apples up and down while he drank.

“ lonely? ” he added.

you drank the wine you were drinking completely and turned your attention to others.

“ i see‚” you heard him called in the middle of the loud music inside the bar. “ broken? ” he asked.

you looked at him again but you noticed that your faces were close together.

he turned his face away so that you could face each other properly as both his hands were lifted, smiling with a hint of sarcasm.

“ can you please stop making fun of me‚ mister. ” you said firmly, you managed to give what you said to him in an irritated voice.

“ i’m not making fun of you miss, ” he reminded you, motioning the waitress to give him another glass of martini before even looking at you. “ i have my own version of how to play with a woman. ” he smirked at the same time, admitting that you are very experienced in the behavior he shows.

“ flirty, huh? ” you asked him, he chuckled at your question and slowly brought his face closer to yours until he put his mouth on your ear.

“ i am. ”

you tsked and put your hand on his chest and slowly pulled him away.

you stood up from your seat and walked over to him with one of your hands on his chest, you were the one smirking now as he marveled at what you would do, he took a gulp of his martini and swallowed.

you sat on his lap and put your hand on his shoulder.

“ maybe you like to play with me? ” you hummed while asking it, he chuckled again.

“ what if‚ yes. ” he says defiantly, his tongue does not retreat and smirks as he answers you.

“ heeseung. ” he introduced himself and extended his hand to you.

“ Y/N ” you accepted his hand and sipped the rest of your wine.

“ so darling, what are you doing here? ” you asked and took his neck tie and knotted it with your smooth fingers.

he went whoops at the action that you suddenly showed and you know he’s enjoying it.

“ and you? what’s the reason you came here? ” he asked back, you snicker as instead of answering your question, he asked you.

“ to fight and break up with my cheater boyfriend. ” you told bored and you rolled your eyes when you called your ex-boyfriend ‘boyfriend’.

“ oh, such a sad news. ” you heard Heeseung’s grief when he heard what you said, but deep inside he was happy about it.

and another is that he is also the reason why you broke up with your boyfriend.

Heeseung is one of your boyfriend’s best friends, sometimes they only meet or spend time together but unfortunately every time you go with your boyfriend to join his other friends jamming you don’t see him : Heeseung.

it’s all started when your boyfriend showed your photo on your first date to his friends, they all really liked you and beautified in your facial, they chose to respect your relationship with your boyfriend because after all your boyfriend was the first to drop your heart.

but Heeseung was really the worst, Heeseung completely fell for your beauty, and all the insults he did were for you to break your connection with your boyfriend.

he entertains your boyfriend with the girls at the bar of the condominium owned by Heeseung’s parents and drink a lot of alcohol so that he gets drunk and has sex with another girl, he knows his friend is innocent but he is ready to give up their friendship just for you.

Heeseung is obsessed with you but you don’t know that because you haven’t seen or met him yet.

sometimes he sends an edited image to his staff for your friend and parents with your boyfriend who is another girl.

it is extremely legit if you can see it but everything in the picture he gives is fake.

Heeseung is also the reason why your boyfriend is in their condominium lives because Heeseung knows that you often visit your boyfriend so he made a way to see you once in a while and that is to make your boyfriend live in a big , spacious and luxurious condo.

now that he made his friend look bad to you, your friends and your family, now he will get what he has been waiting for a long time : you.

“ ugh! ” you bumped into a hard and cold wall behind you as the two of you kissed passionately like there was no tomorrow.

Heeseung was removing his tuxedo while you had your other hand curled up holding his tie.

as if you are hungry and eager to taste each other, you are in the same room of the condominium and your boyfriend lives in just the next room.

each room is soundproof, the furnishings are durable and it looks expensive.

you helped Heeseung remove the buttons from his dress shirt and you can feel the bulge in his abs.

you moaned again as he pressed himself against you at the same time as you felt his hardened length.

he tore your thin dress enough to see your black lace bra.

he caressed your breast while it was still covered in your bra, you couldn’t do anything but moan in the middle of the kiss between the two of you.

you immediately lowered your dress until it fell to the floor, your kiss was interrupted and Heeseung lowered you until you were facing his pants with a lump in the middle of the zipper.

you crossed your legs when you felt something wet fall from your panties, Heeseung immediately pulled down the zipper of his pants and pulled his pants down.

it’s like you’re impatient for each other touch and can’t control your random feelings running out both of your minds.

you immediately took off his boxers along with his underwear, you could see right in front of you his long cock and his red tip.

drooling at the sight of it, you stroked his length with your small smooth hand and curled it tightly.

and besides sipping it like ice cream, you looked at him seduced and slowly covering his whole length in your mouth.

Heeseung ruffled your hair and thrust his length inside your mouth.

“ you just got out of a breakup and you’re already sucking another man’s cock.” he hissed as you guided yourself to take his cock.

you started to gag as your head rapidly bobbed up and down.

you were held by his legs tightly as he bobbed your head up and down quickly as if he was abusing your mouth and throat.

you wanted to move your head away but he continued to go after your throat until it recognized Heeseung’s tip.

he held it still for a few seconds and moved your mouth away.

he tweaked your hair again pulled you upright, he grabbed your chin and squeezed both of your cheeks which was the result of you to pout

he kissed you violently as if he had a grudge against you and spat on you.

“ fuck, you’re so hot. ” he mumbled to you in a seductive voice that made your legs tremble.

he grabbed the garter of your panty and pulled it down, you helped him and immediately had your panty done.

you were embarrassed to give it to him because it was so wet but he immediately grabbed it.

“ mine. ”

he immediately took your hand and led you to the mirrored vanity.

you looked at each other the same way, you can see his 6 abs that has a strong plump and his v line on his torso.

“ be quite in a small meeting, yea? ” he knotted your panties in one of his hands and you could see it and then he put it in your mouth.

he made you bend over as you two locked a spicy gaze on each other and neither of you two seemed to don’t want to look away.

he stroked his cock first and forced it into your little pussy.

you moaned loudly while your wet panties were inside your mouth, you were held by the edge of the vanity as he continued to push the cock on you.

“ you’re so tight, ” he said and rammed his shaft inside your pussy madly.

you can’t believe that you gave your virginity to him and not to your ex-boyfriend who you’ve been with for more than 2 years.

you can’t explain the pleasure and pain you perceive.

the vanity oscillates because of the speed of his strike, your eyes are almost white because of its rolling more than 360°, you don’t know if you call this cheating or what because at the same time you still have a little something feelings to your ex-boyfriend.

he slowly removed the hook of your bra and threw it to the other side of the room, immediately wrapping his large and veiny hands around your two breasts.

he removed his cock inside your pussy and pulled you to the wall and didn’t hesitate to insert his cock into you.

he removed the panty from your mouth and threw it around the room as well, he grabbed both of your legs and held them tightly.

he picked you up and pressed yourself against the wall‚ you moaned loudly as his cock went deeper inside your hole.

“ fuck! ” you growled and ran your hand and fingers through his hair.

his face was close to your neck which gave him a chance to give you a good mark.

he sucked it like a vampire drawing your blood, you clawed at his shoulder and back to give yourself balance.

“ you cunt,” he said irritably and threw you on the bed.

“ thought you wanted to play with a girl? ” you asked breathlessly while looking at him hovering over you.

he just smirked and grabbed both of your hands and raised them to your top, locked both of your hands with his other hand, his grip was so tight that it was hard for you to struggle from his confinement to you.

“ i am,” he slowly inserted his cock, “ but i didn’t say anything that there would be causing in pain. ” and he inserted it fully into your womanhood, you were gaped.

“ because what’s needed is, we can enjoy each other’s performance equally. ” he whispered to you and thrust into you again.

“ fuck Heeseung! ” you shouted as you were about to cum.

“ if we finish the game you will lose. ” he whispered and smiled at your fucked out face.

you forced yourself out of his tight grip and reversed the positions of the two of you.

you are now straddled by him while his cock is still inside you, your eyes dazzled with pleasure.

Heeseung was surprised and amazed at what you did, he stared intently at your face and waited for what you would do.

he rested his head on the dashboard of the bed and smirked, you can see he is not tired from what he was doing earlier because you who were lying and moaning almost lost your breath.

you started moving in your seat and heard Heeseung’s raspy growl.

“ that’s right, if i can defeat the king, i will win. ”

you immediately put yourself on top of him and ride yourself up and down while Heeseung just relaxes on what he’s leaning on.

he grumbled again when you gave yourself pleasure, your shaking breasts and your fuck out expression to him didn’t help either, that’s why he immediately reversed your position again.

you stare at eachother with a mixture of desire. “ and if i defeat my queen, i’ll let you win. ” he remarked and kissed you.

you answered his kiss and after a while you both came out together.

you screamed like a mantra and your orgasm came out hard.

“ congrats‚ gorgeous. ” he cooed to you, little by little you saw black until you blacked out.

mid morning when you wake up to the high bright sun hitting your eyes lid

you felt a headache and when you sat down you felt a pain in your private part in the middle.

“ shit. ”

you were about to get out of bed and forced to embrace the burn you felt.

you know something happened between you and Heeseung even though you know to yourself that you two are very drunk or just you.

the room is clean and Heeseung is no longer by your side, breakfast is also ready and he left a letter for you.

you read in the letter that Heeseung leave a side‚ it write that he will date you in a garden behind the condominium where the best view and nature.

you would have eaten the breakfast that was prepared for you when the condo you were staying at rang the doorbell.

you were wearing a big black t-shirt with pajamas that fit around your waist.

you went straight to the door and opened it.

“ Ethan, bro, i need a — Y/N? ”

you were surprised by what you saw and not only you were surprised but also the person in front of you; your ex-boyfriend

“ what are you doing here? ”

“ i should be the one to ask what you are doing here. ”

“ i live here. ” you exclaimed boldly.

“ seriously? ” your ex-boyfriend chuckled but you just nodded.

“ my friend lives here and it’s impossible for you to live with him, we just break up last night. ”

your ex-boyfriend looked up and down at what you were wearing, he also saw Heeseung’s favourite t-shirt that you were wearing with the brand ‘thisisneverthat®’.

your fucked out by fucking your boyfriend’s friend. ex–boyfriend’s friend.

988 notes View Post

zhangyi-johee

2 years ago

freak (p. sh)

pairing. sunghoon x female reader

genre. best friends brother AU, smut smut smut, M/F, one shot

warnings. horror film references, dom sunghoon, oral, sensory deprivation, degradation, choking, spitting, biting, rough unprotected sex. minors DNI.

wc. 4600

now playing. Freak//Doja Cat

“What’s your brother been up to? Haven’t seen him around lately.”

Your best friend clicks her tongue from across the room, long hair flipping away from her shoulders as she snaps to glare at you. “Have you been looking?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sitting up on her bed you return the glare, playfully of course.

“Can’t believe how obsessed you are with my brother.” She scoffs, returning to blend her blush. “You won’t believe it, but he got a summer job.”

“I’m not obsessed with him.” You sigh, flipping through one of the numerous Cosmopolitan issues she has collected. Flipping the corner of a page down with an article discussing exploring new kinks.

“Sunghoon wouldn’t even know what to do with you.” She says, detangling her hair to braid pigtails. “I’m convinced he’s never felt the touch of a woman in his life.”

“He’s harmless, don’t be so mean to him.” Casually scanning the article, you mentally disagree; even if Sunghoon’s more the quiet, stand-offish and observant type, your gut had a feeling he’d know exactly what to do with you. “Where’s he working?”

She snorts, turning to face you. “That’s the best part, little freak got a job at that horror museum downtown. I swear he jumped and kicked his ankles together mid-air when he got the call back.”

“Oh I bet, he loves horror movies.”

She pulls a disgusted face, shaking her head at you. “The way you can list off facts about my brother like some type of Wikipedia page needs to be studied.”

“Shut up.”

She winks, sticking out her tongue before returning to glamming herself up; shooting you a wink. “Freak.”

Summer moves slow without your usual daily excitement of catching sneaky glimpses of your crush.

It’s not like you’re obsessed or anything, it’s also not like you purposely aligned your class schedules to match your best friends for a reasonable excuse to study together for any reason other than working better with assistance. Has nothing to do with knowing she’d prefer to study at her house, where her brother conveniently always is; because as she mutters under her breath ‘he’s such a loser.’

Nothing at all to do with the fact that he was working on remodeling his car the last few months. Definitely not suggesting to study at the kitchen table to be able to admire Sunghoon coming inside covered in car oil and sweat, quietly chugging down water near the fridge while inconspicuously glancing in your direction.

Plans of hanging around all summer to seduce your best friend’s brother seemed to be on pause now, unsure what your plan even is to begin with anyway. How hard could it be? If rumors have any truth then Sunghoon should be groveling at your feet for a chance.. not that he is, yet.

“Oh Hoon’s bringing the new Scream movie later.” Your friend interrupts your silent scheming, tapping at her phone. “Didn’t you want to watch that?”

“Huh? Oh..” checking the time you note it’s getting late. “Like, when?”

“He just left work,” she nods, locking her phone. “Stay over, we’ll have a horror movie slumber party like old times.”

“Is he gonna watch with us?” You ask, sinking lower against her headboard. She mocks a gagging sound, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, probably.” Getting up she grabs extra clothes for you, motioning to her closet if you need anything else. “Gonna shower real quick if you want to head down and start up some snacks, I want popcorn.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Sunghoon works late, you think to yourself, peering through kitchen cabinets for snacks he could also want to munch on. Luckily, they are always stocked up with food for the weekends when their parents typically leave town to spend nights visiting other cities now that their kids are old enough to take care of themselves. They made sure to have all types of ramen, chips, candies and popcorn ordered before their weekly summer vacation.

“Extra butter,” you mindlessly mumble, reaching higher up for a box of microwave popcorn.

“What are you doing here?”

Sunghoon’s deep voice has you jumping, clutching at your chest and snapping around to grip onto the counter. Heart pounding fast as you look up to see him standing there with one eyebrow raised.

“Oh my God when…” you sigh, fixing your hair quickly. “I didn’t hear you come in..”

Sunghoon smirks, reaching to grab a handful of chips from the tray of food you’ve set up. “Nice PJs.”

“They’re your sisters..” you mumble shyly, returning to reach for the extra butter popcorn.

“You staying over or something?” Sunghoon sounds bored, monotone even as he chomps down chips. Standing on your toes you swat at the top shelf, keeping yourself steady with one hand as your fingers graze the box of popcorn.

His tongue clicks from behind you, striding up swiftly to reach over your head and grab the box easily. It’s a quick moment but his lower half presses flush to your backside long enough to feel the heat between his thighs mold between your buttcheeks. The cold from his chest meeting the warmth of your back simultaneously, groin heavy where it nestles between you.

Taking a step back after a minute of swatting for the box, Sunghoon swallows and licks at his upper lip, setting the popcorn down near your arm. “That’s my popcorn.”

“Oh..” calming yourself, you take a deep breath, shifting to turn and press against the counter when you realize how close he still is. “Sorry, I was getting snacks to watch the movie..”

His eyebrows furrow in question, eyes lowering to scan over your figure, quick enough that if you blink you’d miss it. “You like Scream?”

“What? Of course I do, who doesn’t??”

Sunghoon shrugs, not bothering to move away more, outside chilly air still clinging to his body. “A lot of people don’t like horror films. Which ones your favorite?”

“Uhm..” he’s looking at you apprehensively, waiting to judge your answer. “Nothing tops the original.”

He nods, bottom lip jutting forward seemingly pleased. “Reviews have said this ones really good, I mean.. how many times can they reinvent a new ghost face killer?”

He steps back a bit, as if ready to turn around and drop the conversation, slowly turning to the side cocking an eyebrow at you. “Say.. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Like, of all time?” Twisting your legs together nervously you grip at the counter ledge behind you, he hums and nods for you to continue. “Uhm, I guess it’d have to be the original Halloween.” You shrug, noting his surprise. “..but as far as more recent goes, Midsommar is a masterpiece.”

Sunghoon laughs a bit, reaching inside his pocket to pull out a ghost face mask, finger gliding over the white plastic to avoid your gaze. “I preferred Hereditary personally but..”

Taking a step back he continues to nod. “Good choices.” He winks, leaving the kitchen with one plate of snacks in hand before you’re able to respond. The deep breath of air you let out near deflates you, rushing to the bathroom to look over yourself and check your breath before following after him.

“What’s taking so long!” Your friend calls out from the living room, startling you again as you scramble to fill a bowl with popcorn.

“One second!” Rushing out with a bowl and drinks you come to a halt seeing your best friend spread out comfortably on the smaller couch leaving you left with no choice but to sit next to Sunghoon, his hooded gaze slowly lifts up, tucking his lips in to hide a smile.

“Uhm..”

“You don’t mind right? Need to stretch my legs so badly.” She pouts, blinking innocently and wiggling her feet under a blanket.

“Oh yeah..” gulping, you lower down to sit by her brother, clearing your throat as you settle back and attempt to get comfortable.

He’s changed out of his work clothes, white t-shirt baggy on his chest but fitted on his thick biceps, gray sweats draw your attention lower; fast to avert your gaze away when you catch a glimpse of an outline lifting the material up between his thighs.

“Press play.” Your friend mumbles, phone in hand immersed with her daily lurking, having to go through all of her boyfriend's socials to make sure he’s only up to good.

Sunghoon leans back further, easing into a more comfortable position with one arm resting on the couch behind you. The room is mostly dark aside from the TV light, illuminating his side profile and milky skin tone all the more, biting down on his lower lip as the movie begins, drawing you back to reality, realizing you’ve been staring for too long.

Eyes shift your way curiously, nodding to acknowledge you. “You a screamer?” He whispers, just enough for you to hear.

“What?” Surprised by his question, you pull up your legs onto the couch, Sunghoon using the chance to scoot closer to you and speak into your ear.

“You scream when you’re scared?” He asks, a heavy husky tone shooting chills down your spine, eyes rolling off to the side.

“Uh, no, I don’t really get scared.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Huh?” He straightens out, gaze fixated back on the TV ignoring your confusion. The first scene plays out, a blond woman on her phone staring down an alleyway.

“Ah, don’t go in there.” He smiles by your side, speaking softly only to you. “Has she never seen the Stab films?”

Half distracted by his commentary, you jump a bit as the volume rises and the actress on screen proceeds to get stabbed repeatedly by ghost face, shocking you enough to turn your face away and inadvertently hide in Sunghoon’s shoulder. He bounces under you, chuckling and leaning in closer to wrap an arm around your back. “What happened to not really getting scared?”

“Caught me off guard..”

“You have nothing to be scared of.” He smirks, pressing close enough to your ear for his lips to brush against your lobe. “I’ll protect you from the boogeyman.”

Sunghoon stays close to you throughout the duration of the film, adding little snarky remarks every time another character falls victim to the killer's plan. “Amateurs, you’d think this entire franchise wasn’t built around the premise of the scary movie cliches.”

Half focused on the movie, you adjust to rest more of your weight against his side, forehead nuzzling into the column of his throat, occasionally squealing and playing into a more helpless damsel in distress to earn extra squeezes around your arm.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here to keep you safe huh?” He chides, peering toward his sister half asleep on the other couch. “Probably scream until your lungs burst.”

“I’m not a screamer..” you whisper, tilting your head to keep your chin held up on his broad shoulder. “Unless you want me to be.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks coyly, movie forgotten as he dips in to whisper near your mouth. “Want me to make you scream? You wanna play psycho killer with me?” The hidden connotation behind his words has your thighs shifting together, aching between with anticipation.

“Are you the killer?” You question, shifting to whisper into his ear. “Please don’t kill me, I wanna be in the sequel.”

Sunghoon leans into your ear, eyes skirting across to make sure his sister still hasn’t moved. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.”

He gets up quickly, glancing at you over his shoulder in a way that implies more without saying anything. After waiting for a few minutes and sitting uncomfortably, squirming in place to appease the wet heat between your thighs; you move ever so gingerly as to not make a sound. The TV volume assists in masking your footsteps leading out into the hallway in search of the bathroom.

“Hoon?” You call out quietly, cursing under your breath at how dark it is, only a bit of moonlight breaking through from the small window at the end of the hall. The bathroom doors half open where you stop to peak inside. Creaking sounds with every step you take, reaching for the door handle to push it fully open. “Who’s there? Sungho—“

Large palms engulf your throat and mouth before you can scream, clasped across your face, a raspy breathy voice cooing against your ear to hush. “Don’t scream, it’s me.”

Without loosening his hold, he knocks against the backs of your knees to press you up against the nearest wall, sharp canines finding the shell of your ear to nibble at. “Don’t be too loud or you’ll wake her up.”

Releasing your neck, his thick fingers smooth down your chest, squeezing one of your breasts along the way, cleaned up nails trailing down to the front of your shorts. “Rule number 1- you should never ask ‘who’s there?’. Don’t you watch scary movies? It’s a deathwish.”

The lines familiar, said in a low toe curling tone meant to instill fear in you. Shoving past the elastic waistband keeping your shorts held up, he cups over your core, a rumbling pleased sound escaping his throat. “Were you planning this? Readying yourself to fuck your best friend’s brother?”

He smacks against your bare cunt, fingers sweeping between your folds as you jerk forward, groaning beneath his hand, jagged edges of his fingernails digging into your cheek.

“I asked you something.” Pointed eye-teeth scrape along your jugular, licking at the small indentations left behind.

“Yes..”

Sunghoon chuckles darkly on your skin, his nose scrunching up against your cheek as fingers work to spread your arousal around, smearing the mess of wetness around your middle. “What a slut.”

“N-no!”

“Shh shh, not too loud now, don’t wanna ruin our fun.” Plump pink lips litter up and down your throat, his free hand lifting up to grip your chin and force your neck to twist more. “Wanna get fucked so bad don’t you?”

Dim lighting streaks across his heated hooded gaze, nodding your head for you as he dips lower to circle your entrance. Sunghoon’s touch isn’t gentle in the least, instantly slapping your cunt in rapid succession forcing your knees to lock together with a pained yelp, the sound of your wetness splashing against the collision adding more heat in your chest. Whimpering down embarrassed little moans the more he continues to land against your core, wet arousal even reaching far enough to make a mess of the wall your lower half arches against.

“Hoon.. f-fuck.”

“I said shut the fuck up.” He grits, other hand clasping over your mouth before you’re able to let out a shocked fear filled sound. Sunghoon pinches your clit between two digits, panting against your ear as he continues to babble nonsense. “Such a helpless victim, just begging to get caught. You like this, huh? A little fear, getting snatched up and fucked until you cry, groveling for mercy. Will you beg for it?”

He emphasizes by rolling against your bare backside, pajama shorts dropping down to your ankles leaving you exposed to be used and taken advantage of, the idea of Sunghoon hiding in dark corners waiting for you to pass by with a head full of air, drag you by your limbs into a closet and ruin you sets your stomach on fire. Jerking back and forth, you work against his fingers pinching and rolling your clit deliciously, each press of calloused finger pads nudging against a different bundle of nerves. The sensations shooting down to your toes lifting off the floor causing you to squirm back into his hardened length even more.

“What a nasty little whore,” he growls, restricting your head to the side with an unrelenting hold on your mouth, teeth finding a lifted pulsating vein easily due to your excitement. “What would my sister say? Knowing what a slut her best friend is, always hanging out here batting your big puppy eyes at me. Squishing your tits together like I won’t notice.”

Sunghoon laughs against your throat, fingers gliding down between your labia folds to circle your entrance. The amount of wetness pouring out slipping his digits through a mess dribbling down your inner thighs. “Fuck, so wet for me, you want this so bad don’t you? Always coming out to the garage to bother me, bending over the hood of my car asking stupid questions just to show off your fat little ass. Been dreaming about this haven’t you?”

Each filthy incriminating thing he says has your eyes rolling back, neck arched into an awkward stretch the more he keeps you held in place to lick and suck at hot bits of flesh lining your throat, leaving marks behind with every sink of his teeth. The sharp points burn as they bury in hard enough to create indentations, hissing behind the suffocating palm keeping your screams trapped.

Twisting your neck again, his palm falls to your neck tightening around as his lips hungrily devour your parted open pout, tonguing his way in easily. Each gasp you struggle to get out swallowed down by his domineering lips easily taking full control of the kiss with more of a choking squeeze around your neck. “Keep your pretty mouth open for me.”

Two fingers tease at your hole as he presses the back of your head to his shoulder more, the position leaving you vulnerable at his will, mouth dropped open gazing up at him with glossy eyes. Sunghoon’s lips purse together over yours, tongue swishing around collecting a wad of saliva, the first glimpse of shiny clear spit exiting his lips has you choking for air even more. Already struggling to breathe as he slowly spills drool onto your tongue, fingers pushing past the resistance of your tight hole as his spit collects at the back of your throat with yours urging you to gurgle and cough for air.

“Fucking disgusting, such a pretty little thing, nasty cock whore.” He grunts, biting your bottom lip roughly, teeth knocking into yours. “Swallow.”

Patting the middle of your throat, he sneers sadistically, enjoying the first batch of fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Fingers thrusting in and out of you without falter, the width of his palm colliding with your clit the more he works to stretch you out around his digits. Not that it matters much, he could care less if you cry because it hurts.

Sunghoon waits for your throat to bob under his palm, sliding out of you and blurring over your clit with more strength, muscles pronounced with each motion even in the dark. He sinks down leaving you to rest your face on the wall, using the opportune moment to compose yourself and fill your lungs. Sniffling away the tears now making their way past your chin, ending their journey down to your breasts.

“Remember what I said.” Sunghoon’s palms land heavy on your ass, a string of curses following under his breath. Long fingers knead and squeeze, pulling your cheeks apart to fully expose both of your holes. “Don’t wanna get caught..”

He dips in keeping you held open, the tip of his nose grazing between the crevice of your ass, lips dragging across your rim. “Or do you?”

The cry you let out disappears into the wall, lifting a hand to bite down on as your other supports you from melting down to your knees. Sunghoon’s ears clog up with muddled heat, his sole focus turning to your holes winking at him enticingly, each one barely opening even as his tongue swipes between both nastily. He murmurs below you, shaking the meat of your ass against his face to further drown in your aroused scent. The warmth radiating from between your thighs dizzying him to a brainless empty-headed mess.

“Hoon..”

He swipes up and down repeatedly, wetness covering him forehead to chin the more he teases and flicks at your holes. Muffling your own moans, you twist to watch his face of pure ecstasy, half lost between your ass as he pushes in to curl his tongue through the tight ring of your rim. Everything about it sets your back rigged, from his long black eyelashes laid out on his high cheekbones, to the pleasured wrinkle that’s formed between his perfect eyebrows. Raspy groans accompany the slide of his tongue, endlessly digging his strong hands into your asscheeks, firm enough for it to sting.

Sunghoon blinks up meeting your gaze, unhinging his jaw more to swoop past the skin separating your core and rim. Tongue tickling at your slick hole without breaking his focus on your heated face. He finally laps at your entrance akin to a dehydrated animal, slurping the slop of wetness out of your hole with his lips latched around you.

“Oh fuck.” You croon, biting down harder on the inside of your fingers. Cheeks streaked with overwhelmed tears by now, shoving your butt back against his nose to ride each clean sweep of his tongue collecting your wet desire.

Sunghoon shoves in, the thick wet of his tongue combining with the slick coating your walls adding an extra slip for him to push all the way in; out of breath the more you rock down burying his nose into your rim. All of it downright disgusting. The thought of being too loud and getting caught has you rolling down faster, fucking his tongue in and out of your hole in chase of relief.

Seeming to catch on, he slaps your hips, gripping mounds of meat roughly to jiggle and urge you to set your weight down on his face. Skin gone near completely red, Sunghoon gazes up at you with blazed out eyes, a vein rippling down the center of his forehead the more he struggles to breathe. All of it sends you over the edge right as his biceps wrap around your thighs and he pulls away to spit at your hole. The sick trickle of it has you jerking, eyes rolling up and slapping the wall as a flash of blank minded heat washes down from your skull to your toes.

Sunghoon gasps under the drench of arousal spouting from your cunt, pinching nerves throbbing at the sides of his forehead quickly relieved to receive oxygen again. The thought of dying between your thighs with a happy smile on his face amusing him.

Moving back up to stand, he loops your waist with one arm, using the other to free his engorged girth from the confines of his boxers, shoving them down past his balls with the waistband of his sweats.

Sunghoon’s fast to stroke himself, pinching at the head of his length to calm his need to cum already; the tight suction of your cunt around his tongue had him ready to soil himself, cock jumping between his thighs with each trickle of your wetness gliding down his throat. He squeezes at the base for a minute or two, smacking the meat of his length down on just below the dip where your lower back meets your ass. “Want it?”

The sound of his cock slapping heavily on you has your already quivering thighs crashing together, ready to lose your balance on your weak ankles if not for his muscular grip around your torso.

“H-hoon please,” you try to whine louder than you should, gagging as his hand returns to circle your throat again. Sunghoon uses more power to drag your neck back, forcing your ass to jut out more leaving your thighs parted and easy to access.

“Too fucking loud.” He grits, kissing the sweat off your forehead, cock grazing between your thighs. “Where do you need it?”

“I-inside…inside me, please, Hoon please..”

A growl rumbles off his sturdy chest, licking down your cheek to bite at your jawline, Sunghoon releases your throat only to cover your mouth again. The scream that rips from your chest goes mute under his grasp, thrusting forward with one meticulous thrust until the entirety of his girth manages to stretch past your convulsing heat. “Fuck.” He growls, the bite he holds on your jaw chattering, having to shake away his own need to shout. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

Shutting his eyes, he sighs, hand staying clamped to your lips tightly as he savors your walls gripped around him. The heat of your cunt wrapping him in a dripping wet cocoon of raging heat, each contraction around him drawing the veins lining his size to throb painfully. “So..”

Sunghoon grunts, nipping at your chin, hips pulling back a few inches just to fuck back into you. “Fucking..”

He pants, repeating the movement, pistoning into your backside with a sudden urgency. “Good..”

Already feeling too close to release he’s merciless from the start, fucking into you fast, bouncing your weight against him hard enough to have you jumping up on your toes similarly to a rag doll being tossed around. Sunghoon groans, tucking his bottom lip in a fierce bite to control the volume of his grunts. Cock slamming in rapidly, each virgous snap of his hips more rough than the last.

“You fucking like that?” He rasps, fully pressing your front to the wall to keep you held up. Grinding against the perky top of your ass folding over onto your lower back. The lewd visual of your body altering due to the aggressive nature he fucks you in only seizes his balls up, heavy as they meet your clit with each clap of his pelvic bone digging into your backside.

Sunghoon doesn’t wait for your answer, knows the pathetic screams lost beneath his hand are enough. The thick creamy gloss coating his length with every draw back more than enough to know how much you love it. The deep arch you stay in, the way your pussy sucks him in more and more with each thrust.

“Fuck, good.” He mutters, hissing between his teeth, his free hand grappling your arms behind your back to handcuff your wrists together. The new position allowing him more control to fuck you like nothing but a whore, just a dirty cockslut desperate to take dick and catch a fat nut.

“Cum for me one more time.” He says between gritted teeth, sloppily nipping your earlobe between rapid skin-clapping thrusts. “Fucking cum.”

Sunghoon’s throat cracks to not scream, his vocal cords raw from trying to suppress his own need to cry out, face dropping to your shoulder to bite into any exposed flesh as you writhe against him, pussy sucked around his length to an almost painful point. The wetness fucked out of you with each jerky last thrust he gives drenching his balls, smearing between his thighs in such a disgusting vile way.

He can’t help but to fully bite the juncture between your neck and shoulder. A bitter metallic taste mixes with his saliva as he pumps you full of release, his hand only going lax on your mouth the more he empties inside of you and falls weak. Orgasm fully absorbing his strength for a moment as he licks at the accidentally inflicted wound struggling to regain his barings.

The whiny whimper you let out has his eyes fluttering open, nodding against your nape before taking a deep breath and slowly freeing himself from your warmth.

“Shh,” Sunghoon’s lips drag against the side of your face panting to catch his breath. Squatting down he picks up your bottoms and tugs them back up over your hips. Turning you around to face him, he cleans up the tear tracks left behind on your cheeks, leaving two soft kisses on each. “You good?”

He smiles, keeping you held up straight with a hold around your waist. “I’m good..”

Sunghoon laughs under his breath, leading you down the hall toward the living room. “You’re kind of..” he pauses, peeking into the room at his sister still sound asleep, the movie credits now rolling.

“Kind of what?”

“A freak...” He grins, patting your butt, eyebrows directing you back to the couch. “Like me.”

3K notes View Post