GOOD GIRL: WORSE CHOICES
pairing: serial killer!seungmin x fem!reader
genre: dark romance, comedy, thriller
summary: you meet this creepy dude on the street, seungmin, and you’re such and angel that he just can’t stop stalking you after that. slowly becoming your friend, even. good thing you’re flexible and… survive when he tries to kill you?
warnings: non idol au, violence and mentions of gore, attempted murder, obsessive behavior, stalking, cursing, homicidal behavior/psychopathy, sexual content(unprotected p in v, pull out method, mentions of pubic hair, oral sex (f and m receiving), genuinely one(1) mention of a condom in the whole fic, cum eating once, one tiny little mention of a threesome that won’t happen), multiple sex scenes, felix as a dumb and annoying side character
word count: 18k
it’s a beautiful sunny spring day. everything’s soft. the air, the light, the breeze. flowers blooming. birds not shutting the fuck up.
you’re crouched on the sidewalk, cooing at a cat which is under a car. “hi baby… hi, oh my god, you’re so cute, c’mere, i won’t hurt you, promise.”
“it won’t come to you.” a man’s voice cuts in, beautiful.
you glance up.
the guy is standing next to you. hands in his pockets. expression blank. pretty, though. annoyingly so.
you squint up at him. “wow. okay. rude. we were making progress with the cat.”
“you weren’t.”
“i was.” you insist, turning back to the cat. “he’s just not in a mood for people right now.”
“it’s a cat.”
“and you’re a ray of sunshine, clearly.”
there’s a pause. then he crouches down next to you. not casual. not friendly.
he doesn’t look at you. just at the cat. “you’re too loud for it to come closer.”
“wow. okay. what’s your name?”
“…seungmin.”
“hi. i’m y/n.” you tuck your knees in closer, resting your chin on them, still watching the cat. “i had a shitty day, by the way. since we’re sharing.”
silence.
you continue anyway. “like, really shitty. my boss, oh my god, you would hate her. actually, maybe you’d like her. you both have that… terrifying energy.”
“i don’t like people.”
“yeah, i can tell.”
he doesn’t answer with anything. instead, he leans forward slightly. extends a hand toward the cat.
you expect it to bolt. it doesn’t. it actually steps forward. cautious, sure, but curious. it sniffs his fingers.
your mouth falls open.
the cat presses its head lightly against his knuckles.
“no way.” you whisper, betrayed. but take some time and look at seungmin. trying to read anything off him. “so do you, like… live around here?”
“…yeah.”
“same. like, a few streets over. i like this part, it’s so pretty. what about you? you go on walks around here or are you doing something?”
“…passing through.”
“mhm.“
the cat nudges his hand again, more insistent this time.
he looks down at it. then, he picks it up. just lifts it.
the cat doesn’t fight it.
you gasp.
he holds it awkwardly, he’s not used to holding something that isn’t… whatever it is he usually deals with.
it curls against him anyway.
you lean closer, peering at the cat in his arms. “hi baby. remember me? i was kind to you first.”
the cat watches you with big eyes.
you sigh.
seungmin watches you do all of this. the dramatics. the way your face moves when you talk. how easily you shift from joking to soft and back again.
“…you live alone?” he asks suddenly.
you blink. “oh. uh—yeah. yeah, i do.”
you don’t hesitate. why would you?
“which street?”
“what?”
“you said a few streets over.”
“oh.” you shrug easily. “uh, near the little bakery? i think it’s pretty cute, so pink. around there. i just moved here like… two weeks ago? still getting lost. i walked in a circle yesterday for forty minutes. it was humiliating.”
“how?”
“i have no survival instincts, seungmin. if this were the wild, i’d be dead in an hour.”
“less.”
you snort. “why do you care?”
“just asking.”
“mhm. do you live alone?”
“…no.”
“oh? roommate?”
“yeah.”
“name?”
“felix.”
“felix?” you brighten instantly. “that’s such a cute name. is he cute?”
suddenly, seungmin wants to rip felix’s throat out.
“no.”
you smile. you’re beautiful. “you said that too fast. he’s definitely cute.”
“he’s not.”
“wow. okay.”
he looks at you now. his eyes are… dead. genuinely, not one spark of emotion in there. but the cat in his arms is full of life. you look down at the little guy too.
“you’re good with animals.” you say.
“they’re simple.”
“oh. i like them because they’re cute.”
“that too.”
tough crowd.
eventually, you sigh, stretching your legs. “i should probably go. i mean i loved being here with you but i have shit to do. i’m sure you have too.”
“okay.”
you stand, brushing off your clothes. “are you gonna keep him?” you nod at the cat.
“no.”
“you should. he clearly chose you.”
he looks down at the cat. then back at you. “you come here often?”
you laugh. “what is this, a pickup line?”
“no.”
“kinda sounded like one.”
“answer.”
you grin, rocking back on your heels. “i walk around a lot. i’ll probably pass by again.” you take a step back, then another. “would love to see you here more often, if you’re up for that. anyways, i really do have to go now. bye, seungmin.”
“…bye.”
you turn, walking off down the street, already pulling your phone out, already slipping back into your own little world because to you nothing about that interaction was unusual. and you don’t look back, you don’t see the way he watches you go. doesn’t move. doesn’t leave. just crouches, the cat still in his arms, eyes on you until you disappear.
he sets the cat back down eventually. it doesn’t want to leave him alone but he still steps over it. who the fuck cares about these furry little assholes. he only picked it up to show you he’s better.
so. seungmin wants to see you again.
and he will.
even if you… don’t quite know he’s seeing you.
not when you leave your building at inconsistent times because you don’t have a real schedule. not when you stop too long at places you don’t need to be, like bakery windows or random storefronts with your friends. typical girly shit.
he learns that you don’t check behind you.
ever.
it doesn’t occur to you that you should.
wrong.
you stop for animals. always. doesn’t matter if it’s a cat, a dog, something that looks like it might bite you. you’ll crouch down anyway, hand out, patient. you help people when they drop things. you hold doors. you smile at children. you give people privacy. you don’t like saying no. you’ll hesitate, soften it, wrap it in something easier to swallow.
you’re an angel.
seungmin notices all of it.
learning something new about you always makes the stalking more fun. and he always learns something new.
he also learned that you don’t notice repetition. that one matters. because it means you don’t notice him. not when he’s across the street one day. not when he’s behind you in line somewhere. not when you pass him again days later and don’t register that you’ve already seen that face.
it’s strange.
you’re strange.
but c’mon, for once in his life, he’s being nice!! (he’s not.) you live alone. you said that easily, without thinking. you hand information out like it’s nothing. someone should be aware of that. someone should be watching. he doesn’t really care but doesn’t have anything better to do, so he will do that for you, nice, right?
creep.
and for your part, you think about the guy with the cat sometimes. mostly because of how weird he was. how blunt. how he didn’t try to be likable at all. it stands out. but not enough. not enough to connect anything. not enough to notice that you’ve passed him more than once since then. not enough to realize that when you feel that tiny unexplainable sense of being watched, you’re not imagining it.
you just brush it off. every time. seungmin notices that too.
because he’s not complicated. never been. he kills because he can, because it’s easy, because he wants to. he doesn’t have one fucking reason to kill. he just purely wants to. and he does it well too.
he’s not completely empty, though. what he does feel, rarely, but consistently, is irritation.
felix is the main source of that.
felix is a horrible roommate.
their place isn’t big, and felix somehow manages to fill all of it with noise. keyboard clacking, chair rolling, random talking to himself or to his friends he’s calling while playing lol or something violent.
then there’s the mess.
felix doesn’t clean. felix leaves shit around. hoodie on the back of seungmin’s chair(WHEN did he go into seungmin’s room and WHY), glass on the floor next to the couch, headphones on the couch, keys in the bathroom sink(???), underwear on the bathroom floor.
seungmin will pick things up sometimes. not out of kindness. just because it’s inefficient to step over the same object more than once.
and then there’s the money felix has. felix has this habit, annoying, unnecessary, of buying things for seungmin. because he loves seungmin, actually, even though seungmin clearly doesn’t feel the same. so seungmin gets expensive things from felix. clothes, mostly. shoes. things seungmin would never go out of his way to get.
“saw it, thought of you.” felix will say, tossing something at him.
seungmin doesn’t ask for any of it, doesn’t need it. doesn’t want the implication behind it, either.
“…stop.” he said once, holding up a jacket that… i was gonna say unreasonably expensive but who the fuck cares it’s beautiful, seungmin just take it, please.
“what? you look good in it.”
“i didn’t ask.”
“yeah, i know. that’s why it’s a gift.”
“…waste of money.”
“i have money.”
“…still.”
seungmin does wear them though. not because he cares about the clothes, or how felix feels, but because throwing them out would be… pointless. and returning them would require a conversation. and killing felix over it, while tempting, is, objectively, an overreaction.
that’s the thing.
seungmin just wants to kill felix every second of the day.
easy solution, technically.
but he doesn’t. he won’t. because beneath all of that irritation, he trusts felix. not with words, they don’t talk like that. felix has no idea that seungmin slits throats in his freetime, but with space. with proximity. with the fact that felix exists in his life and hasn’t been removed from it.
that’s rare.
felix is too much of a boy, honestly. too immature in ways that are exhausting, but not enough to outweigh the fact that felix is one of the only constants, we can even say friend seungmin has.
so he tolerates him. keeps him around. wears the stupid expensive clothes. listens to the shouting from felix’s room, the threats to fuck someone’s mother, the endless noise.
and you see, seungmin is a cold asshole. he really is.
but you, the sweetheart ever, got stuck in his head.
so he keeps stalking you.
he doesn’t follow you every day. that would be stupid. patterns get noticed, for fuck’s sake, no matter how bad you’re at it. instead, he does different times, different distances, different approaches. some days he’s across the street, hands in his pockets, blending in. some days he’s closer, behind you in a line, passing you in the opposite direction, sitting somewhere you happen to be.
you never clock it. not once.
he’s patient.
he learns things without asking now. which is funny, considering you would’ve just told him anyway.
but actually, he doesn’t give a fuck about you.
if someone asked him, directly, he’d say exactly that. you’re just a person.
seungmin really doesn’t care about you.
but his mind is different. his mind is developing a crush, but seungmin, as a person, does not give a a single fuck about you. like, no big deal. he’s had harder boners watching blood drip from a ceiling fan.
he doesn’t feel anything for you, only unconsciously. so he doesn’t know he’s feeling things.
what a weird guy he is.
and felix knows that too. one afternoon he’s(felix) walking around the apartment in nothing but boxers, hair a mess, energy drink in hand.
“dude.” felix says, staring at seungmin sitting on the couch, staring at his phone. it’s rare that either of these boys is out their rooms, by the way. both of them at once? this is unbelievable, actually. “you’ve been weird.”
“no.”
“yeah, man. yeah. you have. you’ve been like… quieter. which is insane, because you’re already basically a corpse.”
“i’m busy.”
“doing what? staring at walls harder than usual?”
seungmin doesn’t answer.
felix squints at him, takes a long sip of whatever radioactive shit he’s drinking. “you getting laid?”
“no.”
“you should. might fix whatever the fuck this is. you don’t even look like someone who gets zero play. that’s what’s throwing me off.”
“i don’t care.”
“yeah, clearly.”
silence.
“…i’ve been following a girl around.”
felix freezes. just stands there, can halfway to his mouth, blinking. “…dude.” he sets the can down slowly. “you wanna maybe—i don’t know—rephrase that?”
“no?”
“but that’s not how you get laid.”
“i’m not trying to.”
“then why are you doing that?”
seungmin shrugs. “don’t know.”
“bro.” felix says, walking over and dropping onto the couch right next to him, way too close. “that’s like, your version of a crush.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
“you’re literally going out of your way to be near her. that’s it. that’s what that is.”
“…it’s not. i don’t care about her.”
“yeah, and i don’t care about ranked, that’s why i scream at my monitor for six hours.”
seungmin doesn’t respond.
felix leans in slightly, poking his arm. “what’s she like?”
seungmin immediately wants to kill him. “move.”
“relax, we’ve lived together for how long? you’ve seen my dick. don’t act shy now.”
“put on clothes.”
“no.”
“is she hot?”
“…yeah.”
felix actually jumps up on the couch. like, that sitting jumping thing. then settles back down. “okay, wait, does she know?”
“no.”
“good. don’t tell her. that’ll ruin it.”
“i wasn’t going to.”
“yeah, no shit. you gotta talk to her. like a normal human being. none of this—” he makes a creeping motion with his fingers “—lurking shit.”
silence. he’s fucking annoying.
“ask her out.” he says. “say something nice. compliment her.”
“no.”
“come on.”
“no.”
“mate.”
“no.”
“you cannot just do this forever.”
“watch me.”
“next time you see her, don’t be weird. just talk. chicks dig that. you’re hot, dude. she’ll like you, you just have to… actually make a move.”
“you got pepper sprayed the last time you talked to a woman.”
“yeah but i’m not as cute as you are, man.”
seungmin looks at him. eyes genuinely empty. (felix actually feels something run down his spine)
the next day he looks at you almost the same way, just from a bigger distance.
you’re coming out of your apartment building, slightly distracted, keys in your hand, and you don’t look around. you never do.
you start walking, and within maybe twenty seconds, you drop your phone because your attention is somewhere else.
you stop. look down.
before you even fully bend, seungmin steps in, picks it up, and holds it out to you.
you blink. look at the phone. then at him. there’s a tiny tiny second where your brain catches up, and then your face just lights up.
“seungmin!!”
and you immediately hug him, wrap your cute little arms around him. that’s a thing people are not allowed to do to him.
his body locks. completely. every muscle goes still.
you don’t notice because you’re already pulling back, smiling at him ear to ear. “oh my god, hi, i haven’t seen you since the cat, i thought you just like, hated me or something.”
“…no.”
you grab his elbow, his elbow, actin like you’ve known him long enough for that to be physical, and start walking, pulling him with you.
he lets you. which is its own kind of problem.
“i’m actually going to meet my friends.” you say, dragging him into your day. “we’re eating out, nothing fancy, just, i don’t know, i needed to get out of my apartment before i started talking to my plant again.”
“you do that?”
“it’s dying, i love to be there for it. i also tried to fix my sleep schedule, which obviously failed, because i decided reorganizing my kitchen at 2 am was a good idea. it wasn’t. i found things i don’t remember buying, which is kinda sad if i think about it too deep. but anyways—”
he knows. he knows because he watched your kitchen light turn on at 2 am.
“you shouldn’t stay up that late.” he says.
“you might be right, because this morning i spilled water everywhere and i slipped a little, which was humiliating, but no one saw, so it’s fine. except i think my neighbor heard it, because there was like this weird pause in the hallway after—”
he knows. he was in the hallway. he knew you weren’t hurt before you even stood up again.
“be careful.” he says.
“i am careful. i’m just also… unlucky.”
that’s not true. you’re not unlucky, you’re just unguarded. there’s a difference. you don’t see it, but he does.
“that’s also proven by the fact that two days ago i totally spilled coffee all over myself, in public too. i was so embarrassed.”
he knows that too. he watched you walk out of the café, looking down at the stain, crossing your arms over your chest because your nipples were poking through.
you don’t notice the way he looks down at your chest.
“and the plant i just told you about is like… one leg in the grave already. i feel so bad for it.”
“you can water it.”
“i do water it.”
“…less.”
“wow. okay. plant expert now too.”
“it’s dying.”
“i know, don’t say it like that.”
he exhales quietly.
you reach the place eventually. you stop, turning to him, still smiling, beautiful.
“you should, i don’t know, you should come by again. like, the cat area. i think he lives there now.” you say.
“…maybe.”
“and like…you can say hi first, you know. i won’t bite.”
“i know.”
you nod, accepting.
then, oh you’re the sweetest ever, you lean in and press a small kiss to his cheek. light. quick. actually casual.
you pull back. “bye, seungmin.”
and then you’re turning, walking into the restaurant, already moving on to the next thing in your day. you don’t look back. you never do, he knows that.
he stands there, exactly where you left him.
his mind is… quiet. processing. because that kiss did something to him. we’re not even talking about the immediate boner he got(annoyingly biological, so what?) but the way you never leave his mind after that through the day.
he hasn’t even killed anybody in a long time because he’s always thinking about you. maybe he should go out again to hunt somebody down. who knows. he likes to hurt, maybe it will help,
he doesn’t like it. he doesn’t understand it. and that’s a clear fucking problem, because seungmin doesn’t operate well with things he doesn’t understand.
everything in his life fits into categories.
useful / not useful. threat / not a threat. relevant / irrelevant.
you don’t fit anywhere.
you’re affecting him. physically. mentally. consistently.
it’s inefficient.
so, he comes up with a great cure to that.
he has to kill you.
okay, wow, wait. from his perspective, it makes sense. you’ve crossed into a space you shouldn’t be in. you’ve created reactions he didn’t authorize. you’ve messed up something that was functioning perfectly fine without you.
so you go.
that’s how it works. that’s how it’s always worked.
and seungmin doesn’t keep problems. he eliminates them. simple. clean. done. there we go, a solution to the thing you made in him. finally.
except, somewhere, deeper than he’s willing to look, his mind is doing something else entirely. holding onto the way you smiled. the way you talked. the way you touched him. building something out of it that doesn’t match the conclusion he just reached.
if he were capable of recognizing it, it would be obvious. but he’s not. so instead of seeing it for what it is, he turns it into something he knows how to handle. which is a target. a solution. an ending. because just like i said, his mind has a crush on you, seungmin doesn’t.
the next time you see him, you grab his hand. like, not his elbow, but his actual hand. you’re so physical.
he lets it happen, even though his his brain is literally like this is a mistake, this is incorrect, remove your hand, remove her hand, remove something, and his body just doesn’t move.
you start walking, pulling him with you again because it’s kinda like he’s on a leash he didn’t agree to but also isn’t resisting. what a pup.
“i was just gonna get coffee.” you’re saying. “you can come. or not. but you are, so.”
“okay.”
great contribution, seungmin. truly adding to the conversation.
and you keep talking, about your friends again, about how the dinner was, about how one of them almost got into an argument with a waiter, whatnot. you keep walking. he keeps letting you.
he has to kill you.
but also, your hand is in his.
seungmin baby, what the fuck are you doing. you have a crush, you just don’t know how to deal with it. and your big conclusion was murder. incredible. truly groundbreaking emotional intelligence.
you squeeze his hand slightly when you cross the street, not thinking about it. just instinct, and he notices. he notices everything. the pressure, the warmth, the casual trust behind it.
when was the last time he was trusted? when felix dragged him to the beach and while felix was flirting with some girls(zero success) seungmin sat in the sand and listened to a little kid talk to him? little fucker was annoying but put the little plastic bucket into seungmin’s hand while he built his little castle. the kid trusted him then. that’s probably the only memory seungmin has that has someone trusting him.
you reach the coffee place, pushing the door open with your shoulder, dragging him inside. “what do you want?” you ask, already stepping up to the counter.
“anything.”
“helping me out here real good.”
you order for both of you anyway. he doesn’t stop you. doesn’t care enough to. or maybe he just doesn’t care about anything except the fact that you’re still holding his hand.
he should kill you. he knows that, he really does, but right now, he’s with you, letting you drag him through your day again, listening to you talk, and… and he’s not doing a single thing about it.
so yeah, somehow, you two start developing a friendship. on your side, it’s very pure. suspiciously pure, actually. you just… include him. invite him into little pieces of your life because it’s totally normal to pick up a quiet, creepy guy off the street and keep him.
on seungmin’s side, there are definitely ulterior motives. very serious ulterior motives. technically murder related motives. but the problem is he also lets you drag him along anyway.
so from the outside, it looks like two people who hang out sometimes. you start spotting him more often. which makes sense because he’s literally there on purpose, but you don’t think like that. to you it’s just “oh hey seungmin again.” and then suddenly you’re walking somewhere together. again. and again.
your conversations are… one of a kind. you throw a lot at him. he throws back like… two words. sometimes three if he’s feeling wild.
but you don’t seem bothered by that. which confuses him. most people would get uncomfortable. silence freaks them out. they start filling it with nervous energy, asking questions that go into things he doesn’t want to answer. you don’t do that. you just… talk when you want to talk, and when he doesn’t answer much, you don’t take it personally.
you start inviting him places. coffee again, walking somewhere, once you dragged him into a bookstore because you “just needed to look for five minutes” which turned into forty five minutes of you picking up random books and summarizing them to him like he asked. he didn’t ask. he stood there, watching you. not the books. you. so creepy.
you keep inviting him up to your place too.
“you can come up if you want.” you said one day when you reached your building. “i made food earlier and there’s too much of it.”
he’s been inside your building before, just… not officially. but he knows the layout better than you think.
“okay.” he said.
and that’s how he ended up in your apartment for the first time. you’re just walking around, grabbing plates, talking about something while there is literally a man in your home who has spent multiple days observing you. following you around. and he’s just standing there, taking it in.
you fed him. he ate without a word. looked adorable doing it.
you’ll walk together, end up near your place, and you’ll go, “you wanna come up?” half the time he says yes.
and once, once, he almost invited you to his place. it happened by accident, you were walking again, same routine, talking about some random drama from work, and he realized you were getting close to his street.
“…you could come over.” he said.
you stopped. blinked at him. “oh?”
right there is when he remembered felix. felix, who walks around the apartment in boxers or just completely naked and seungmin has to kill himself when he sees that. felix, who hits on literally anything that breathes. felix, who would absolutely look at you and try to get you to be his girlfriend.
so he just “…actually, no.”
you blinked again. “wow. okay.”
“…later.”
you narrowed your eyes slightly, but then shrugged. “sure.”
the truth is he doesn’t want felix hitting on you. which is… a whole thing. because again, seungmin, buddy. this is a crush.
and one day, when the two of you are together again, he makes the next step.
“you remember when i told you not to come over?” he asks.
you blink, thrown off. “oh—yeah?” you tilt your head at him. “you blue balled me emotionally, yeah. i remember.”
he ignores that. “i have another place.”
“oh? what kind of place?”
“a house. in the woods.”
“in the woods?” you repeat, a little more excited now. is seungmin actually telling you something about himself? “that’s so nice. do you go there a lot? or is it like a ‘when i need to disappear’ kind of thing?”
“sometimes.”
“that’s actually really cool. i mean, i like the city, but it gets loud. too many people, too much going on. i feel like i’d think better somewhere like that.”
“you could come.” he says.
“really?”
“yeah.”
you smile. wide. warm. interested. “i’d like that.”
you don’t realize what you just agreed to. you just think nice. something different. something calm. he thinks this works. public places are unpredictable, but a house in the woods? that’s his. fully. no interruptions. no variables. no felix. (no felix walking around in boxers, no felix opening his mouth, no felix existing within a ten mile radius of you. honestly, the biggest win here is that felix is not involved.)
and not even days later, you’re in the passenger seat of seungmin’s car, and the drive has already been an hour and a half of you talking nonstop. you tell him about everything.
“do you like driving?” you ask at one point, leaning your head against the window.
“it’s fine.”
“that’s such a non answer. do you like anything?”
“yeah.”
“name one thing.”
he doesn’t answer immediately.
you glance at him, squinting. “you don’t know, do you.”
“quiet.”
“yeah. i get that.”
you pull over at a tiny supermarket because you obviously need food. you drag him inside and he stands there, pushing the cart only when you physically shove it into his hands. the time you hold up two competing bags of gummies and ask his opinion he stares at the gummies for three full seconds, brain supplying an unhelpful image of you feeding him one while you both stand over an open grave. his dick gives a lazy interested twitch. he does not react outwardly, just nods at the sour worms.
he doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s having fun.
finally the car crunches up the long gravel driveway and the house comes into view. it’s nice. like wtf. you actually gasp and say “what the fuck, seungmin.” and he just parks without comment.
he drops your bag inside and points upstairs. “pick any room.” he says.
you bounce off excitedly, completely missing the way he waits until your footsteps disappear before heading straight for the basement door.
in there, the corpse is exactly where he left it two days ago, wrapped in plastic on the metal table, starting to get that special smell. he checks the temperature, makes sure everythings still sealed, pokes the stiff shoulder. everything is fine. no leaks, no bloating, no unexpected visitors. he adjusts himself through his pants with all the emotional investment of checking the oil in his car, then heads back upstairs like nothing happened.
you’ve already claimed the room with the biggest bed and the window overlooking the trees, and you’re sprawled across the mattress testing the bounce when he appears in the doorway without a sound.
you sit up, cheeks still pink from the drive and the sugar rush, and grin at him. “this place is brutal. did you kill a rich guy or marry one?”
“neither.” he says, and stands there, watching the way you bounce once more on the bed.
“still. you have a nice place, seungmin.” you say, genuine. “really.”
“yeah.”
later that night you are both in the kitchen while you offer him a spoon covered in melted chocolate and say “open up.”
he actually opens his mouth. lets you feed him the spoon while you keep chattering about how pretty the woods are and how you bet there are deer or maybe serial killers hiding in them (ha)
you end up on the bed in the room you picked. you’re sitting with your legs under you, wearing an oversized shirt that keeps sliding off one shoulder and big, loose pants. the lamp on the nightstand throws warm light across everything. seungmin is sitting on the bed with you, he’s in a plain black t shirt, and sleep pants that sit low on his hips. you can tell he’s wearing boxers underneath because the outline is there if you look, which you definitely do not do on purpose. much.
looks cute on a man who probably counts bodies instead of sheep at night.
you tilt your head. “do you want the last of those sour worms? i was saving them for tomorrow but if you really want them i can go grab the bag right now. they are kind of addictive, right? do you want it?”
seungmin just looks at you. his pretty lips part slightly, then he catches the bottom one between his teeth, biting down. hot.
his eyes drop to your mouth for a short second before flicking back up, and the air in the room suddenly feels thicker than the bleach smell drifting faintly from downstairs.
you feel the shift, the way his silence is not empty anymore.
“do you want it, seungmin?”
the question is not about candy anymore and you both know it.
he keeps biting his lip, that small tell giving away more than any words could.
“yes.”
you lean in.
this was so supposed to happen. was in the air since the second you looked at him next to you on the street, since the cat.
your hand finds his chest, feeling the thump of his heart under the thin shirt, and you press your mouth to his in a kiss that starts deep.
deep, because this tension has been building for a while now. between you two.
you kiss him like you have been waiting for permission since the supermarket, since the coffee you got together, since that cat on the street. your tongue slides against his, tasting the faint sweetness of the sweet shit you had earlier, and he makes this low sound in the back of his throat that is not quite a moan but definitely not silence. finally, not silence. his hand comes up to the back of your neck to keep you there while he kisses back.
you pull back from the kiss, reach down, grab the hem of your shirt, and peel it up and over your head slowly.
wow, y/n, really going for it.
okay, who can blame you, this man has had you soaking wet from the second he picked that cat up.
the fabric is tossed somewhere toward the foot of the bed. cool air hits your bare chest and your nipples tighten, colorful and pretty and right there in the lamplight.
seungmin’s eyes drop straight to them. first time seeing tits in the wild, actual living breathing ones, not the stiff cold kind he sometimes ends up with in the basement. his mouth parts, pretty lips still wet from your tongue. his cock gives a hard, appreciative twitch to your nipples inside his boxers.
your hands slide under the bottom of his shirt, palms flat against the warm, smooth skin of his stomach. he’s surprisingly soft there. you push the fabric up slowly, so gently. (he leaves bodies in plastic. doesn’t deserve this.)
he lifts his arms(what an obedient babe) and you tug the shirt over his pretty head, messing up his hair in the process.
it lands on the floor.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the little muscle there, and swing one leg over until you’re climbing into his lap. settling chest to chest so your tits press (warm, soft) against the hard planes of his pecs. his skin is hotter than you expected.
his hands come up immediately. cups your tits, testing their weight, how nipples feel in his hands. meeting them.
you lean in again and lick into his little mouth. it picked up a little triangle shape before you did that, you find that so cute. your tongue slides along between his lips first, tasting him, then pushes inside, stroking against his tongue in long, filthy drags that make wet, obscene sounds in the quiet room.
his fingers tighten on your tits, kneading them harder now, rolling your nipples between thumb and forefinger until they ache. you can feel the exact moment his cock jerks against your thigh.
skin to skin is overwhelming. your nipples drag against the warm texture of his chest with every small shift. his heartbeat is hammering under your palm where it rests on him, fast like he just finished a chase instead of sitting still on a bed.
you kiss him deeper, tongue fucking into his mouth in slow, rolling thrusts that mimic something filthier, and he starts to kiss back properly now, clumsy but eager, sucking on your tongue. his hands never stop kneading your tits, squeezing and releasing while your tongue licks into him. the heat between your bodies just builds, and builds, and builds, and oh he’s sure he could cum just from this.
you pull back to look at him. his lips are red and shiny, bitten and slick from your mouth, and his eyes are half lidded, darker than his little soul.
“you like them?” you whisper, voice husky, pressing your chest forward so your tits push more into his hands.
seungmin just stares down at where your nipples are caught between his fingers, thumbs stroking them in slow, mesmerized circles, and nods once, honest.
then he leans in and kisses you again, harder this time.
downstairs the corpse is probably getting stiff in the basement while upstairs seungmin is rock hard and kneading your tits, cock is leaking into his boxers, tongue chasing yours. rip dude.
he feels it. feels it. something confusing and stupidly deep starting to come alive, bloom right in the middle of his chest, spreading down into his stomach and lower, curling around his cock. it’s you. this whole ridiculous feeling is because of you. from your voice to the way you fed him chocolate off a spoon, it’s all you. it feels good. too good. deeply good, the kind of good that makes adrenaline pump through his fragile little veins, makes his arms feel full of energy and just wanting to crush you against him.
you plant hundreds of tiny little kisses on his mouth before you slide off his lap, slowly. you settle back against the pillows, legs stretching out, and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pants. you pull them down your hips, kicking them off the end of the bed.
no underwear. nothing. shaved. you came to his place completely shaved.
the lamplight catches every inch of you and seungmin’s eyes go wide, dark, hungry.
this is his first time seeing a naked woman that is not cold and stiff and wrapped in plastic. warm skin. soft curves. the color between your legs that actually moves when you shift. his mouth goes dry. his cock throbs so hard in his pants that it hurts.
he stays frozen for a second, just looking. then, eagerly and kind of pathetically, he gets up on his knees, climbs up the bed on his hands and knees until he’s hovering over you.
gaze drops straight to your tits again. they really are amazing. full and soft, nipples tight and dark from all the attention he gave them earlier.
he lowers his head, lips brushing the curve of one breast first, trying it out. then he opens his mouth and sucks one nipple between his lips, gentle at first, then harder, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak in slow little experimental circles.
makes him want to fuck you more.
when you give him a pretty sigh, he switches to the other one, so hard to choose because both are so pretty in his humble opinion, sucking harder this time, one hand coming up to knead the breast he is not currently devouring. he’s learning. tasting. letting himself be amazed.
after a long minute he pulls off with a wet pop, lips shiny, and climbs the rest of the way up your body until his face is level with yours and his mouth can crash into yours again. one of his hands stays on your breast, squeezing and rolling the nipple. his cock is rock hard and leaking against your thigh through his pants, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide how much he wants this.
skin to skin everywhere now. the heat of his chest against your tits, the manly(more like boyish, he’s built like a twig but you want him that exact way) weight of him pressing you into the mattress.
it’s so human. so stupidly, beautifully human for a cold psycho who has never done this before with someone warm and willing and alive.
you spread your legs a little wider beneath him, giving yourself to him completely, bare and open and ready. seungmin breaks the kiss just long enough to look down between your bodies, eyes locked on your smooth pussy.
his breathing is ragged. his hand trembles slightly when he reaches down and runs two fingers along your slit, feeling how wet you already are.
woah. suddenly, he thinks women are fascinating.
the touch is clumsy but you can tell there’s something happening inside of him, that his little brain gets this information as new and exciting, so you just enjoy the show while he tries it out for himself.
he presses one finger inside you, slow, just testing what it’s like at first, and the tight wet heat makes his cock jerk hard against your thigh.
and the way he’s looking at you says everything. the deep, heavy feeling in his chest, pulsing stronger with every beat of your heart under him. he turns his head back to you and sucks on your bottom lip, then your tongue, then goes back to your tits because he cannot help himself, licking and sucking and moving his head wild with it.
you are giving yourself to him, open and bare and hot, and he’s taking it. taking you, as much as he can. even though the first take in this situation was him taking you here to kill you(finally).
your hand slides down between your bodies, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants. you tug gently, humming a sweet little sound.
“mm, these need to go.” you murmur.
of course he will get them off for you. he lifts his hips just enough, shoving the pants and boxers down, kicking them off the edge of the bed. his cock springs free, happy to see you, curving slightly upward. there is a wild thatch of dark pubes at the base, but why would you care?
you wrap your hand around him, fingers curling warmly around the hot length. so hard. he’s burning hot, skin silky, pulsing in your palm.
you stroke him slowly from base to tip, thumb swiping over the (beautiful, cute) head to spread the bead of precum, and seungmim lets out this cracked, quiet groan right into your mouth, hips jerking forward into your fist.
you pull back to look at him, your other hand coming up to caress his face, thumb brushing tenderly over his pretty bitten lip, then along his jaw, loving and gentle.
“put it in.” you whisper, voice sweet and husky, eyes locked on his. “just… pull out, okay?”
fucking fuck. he’s going to blow up from excitement.
instead just nods once.
this is seungmin’s first time feeling a warm, living hand on his cock that is not his own, first time seeing a naked woman spread open and wet for him instead of cold on a metal table. the contrast is so absurd it would be funny if he ever laughed. instead he just stares down between your bodies, watching the way your fingers look wrapped around him, the way your pussy glistens right below the head of his cock.
he feels that deep, heavy thing in his chest again, stronger now, pulsing with every stroke of your hand.
he braces one hand beside your head, the other still kneading your tit because he cannot seem to stop touching them, and lines himself up. the blunt, leaking head nudges against your slick folds, sliding through the wetness.
you keep caressing his face, thumb stroking his cheek, soft and encouraging while you guide him with your other hand. “that’s it.” you murmur sweetly, lifting your hips a little to help.
he pushes forward slow, so fucking slow, the thick head breaching you, stretching you open inch by inch.
the heat is insane. tight, wet, living heat that clenches around him. seungmin’s breath stutters, forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder as he sinks deeper, feeling every ripple and flutter around his cock. your walls hug him perfectly, so slick, and the feeling is so overwhelming he has to pause halfway in.
your tits squish against his chest as his hips settle between your spread thighs, and there’s the light feeling of his pubes against your mound when he finally bottoms out. so human. so hot.
he has to swallow before moving, dragging his cock almost all the way out before sliding back in, hands squeezing the sheets and your tit to bear with the overwhelming pleasure, savoring the wet drag and the way your tits bounce gently.
you keep one hand on his face, loving, the other sliding down to grip his ass, pulling him deeper. wrapping your legs around his waist tight, ankles locking behind his back, and your arms end up sliding around his neck, pulling him down until there’s no space left between the two of you.
skin to skin, chest to chest, your amazing tits squished warm and soft against his pecs, nipples dragging with every breath. seungmin might have never been happier in his entire empty little life.
he sinks even deeper inside you from the angle, cock buried to the hilt in you, listening to how you start moaning loud and girly right into his ear.
“fuck, min, yes, just like that—”
he’s gonna cum just by the things you say, fuck.
all sweet and needy and completely unashamed. the noise fills the quiet bedroom, bouncing off the walls while downstairs the corpse is cooling.
seungmin moans too, real, cute, vulnerable little moans that crack out of his throat, so pretty, face buried in the crook of your shoulder, hot breath panting wet against your skin.
both his hands slide under your ass, big palms gripping the soft flesh, fingers digging in so he can pull you up into every thrust, spreading you wider, holding you exactly where he needs you. dumb sentence, he needs you everywhere.
his hips start to move faster, literally slamming into you. the wet slap of skin on skin turns rhythmic and obscene, your slick coating his cock and dripping down to soak the sheets and his balls. every time he pulls back the drag is filthy, your pussy clinging to him, lips puffy and shiny around him, then he slams back in hard enough that your tits bounce against his chest and your moans pitch higher, your nails scratch lightly down his back.
his pubes are soaked now, dark, grinding against your clit with every roll of his hips, pleasure shooting into you, making you cry out harder. the smell of it all is pure… mammal. sweat and sex and each other and the smell of the house.
take the way you’re both panting into each other’s mouths between kisses, tongues licking at each other lazily and lightly, swapping spit while he fucks you harder.
made for each other.
you clench around him on purpose, milking his cock on the upstroke, and he moans louder, face turning away from yours in pleasure, pressing into your neck, hips snapping faster now. pounding into you deep and fast, ass flexing under your heels, hands gripping your cheeks.
every thrust makes your pussy squelch wet and loud around him, the sound downright pornographic in the quiet room. your legs stay locked tight, pulling him impossibly closer. you always needed the man this close, just never acted on it. until now.
seungmin feels it all so deeply. that warm weird thing in his chest is on fire now, mixing with the raw pleasure shooting through his cock and balls. all of it is you. you’re the source of this, you’re why he feels, you’re why his balls slap wet against your ass on every stroke, heavy and full, the skin drawn tight, you’re why sweat is sliding down his spine, dripping onto your tits where they jiggle between your pressed bodies, you’re why he actually lives now.
you’re the why for everything.
the rhythm turns sloppy and desperate, hips snapping, the wet heat between you getting hotter and messier. your girly moans mix with his pretty ones, filling the room while his hands knead your ass harder, spreading you open so he can fuck even deeper, the blunt head of his cock bullying that spot inside you until your vision blurs.
you cry out for him, high and needy, whining and yelping and “seungmin—oh fuck, minnie, right there, please—” your legs stay locked tight around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper while your arms cling around his neck, god just imagine how it looks from above. so hot. so human. your brain has melted somewhere between the third and fourth time his cock kissed that perfect spot inside you. “you feel so good, fuck, you’re so deep—don’t stop, please don’t stop—i’m so wet for you, can you feel it? all for you—”
seungmin moans back into your shoulder, pretty little sounds that vibrate against your skin, face buried so close you can feel his eyelashes flutter every time your pussy clenches around him. his hands grip your ass harder, fingers holding the soft flesh as he yanks you up to meet every thrust, spreading you open so he can fuck you even better.
then he makes the mistake of pulling back just enough to look down. one last long look at your amazing tits, full, soft, bouncing with every slam of his hips, nipples dark and shiny from his earlier mouth.
his eyes lock on them, pupils blown wide, and he cums so sudden that the first thick rope of cum shoots deep into you.
“fuck—” he chokes out, a moan tearing from his throat as he barely, barely manages to pull out. hips jerk back at the last second, the rest of his load spilling across your stomach and the underside of your tits in heavy, pearly streaks. his whole body shakes with it, moans still spilling out pretty and helpless while his cock twitches and spits the last few pulses onto your skin.
he collapses next to you on the bed, chest heaving, face flushed, pretty lips parted as he tries to catch his breath.
you both are panting. looking at the ceiling. it’s stupidly cute.
eventually, you shift a little and slide two fingers down between your legs. push them into your soaked pussy, feeling around, then pull them out slowly.
you find that you were searching for. actual cum, thick and white, mixed with your own slick. coating your fingers in shiny strings.
you look at it, then at him. “you came inside me a little.” you say, voice still breathy from all the moaning. you don’t sound angry though. he did it so cutely you cannot stay upset.
before he can react you bring those two fingers up and shove them gently into his mouth. punishment, kind of.
seungmin’s eyes widen for half a second. his lips close around your fingers, tongue brushing against the salty bitter taste of his own cum mixed with your sweet wetness. he sucks slowly, curiously, eyes going back to half lidded as he processes it.
hm. not as disgusting as he thought it would be. quite pleasant, even.
his tongue swirls around your fingers, licking them clean with quiet, focused, cute little sucks, the same attention he gives to wrapping bodies but sweeter.
the feeling in his chest pulses again, stronger now, mixing with the aftershocks still tingling in his cock.
you watch him with soft eyes as keeps sucking, until he finally lets your fingers slip from his mouth with a wet pop, lips shiny, and you lean in to kiss him.
it’s a softer kiss now. much more of a coming down kiss than a “dick me down” kiss. not even much tongue, just sucking on lips until you pull away with a happy little sigh, patting his chest once before rolling off the bed.
“okay, i’m starving.” you announce so cheerfully, already hunting for your discarded clothes. when you’re all dressed up again, you half throw a blanket over seungmin’s naked, sticky body before you pad out of the room, humming.
the blanket lands crooked across his chest and hips, leaving one leg and half his spent cock exposed to the cool air, but he doesn’t move to fix it right away.
seungmin lies there alone, staring up at the ceiling. the wooden beams above him are looking back. his chest rises and falls.
the feeling is you. the way you moaned his name high and girly, the way your tits bounced when he fucked you fast and filthy, the way you shoved your cum coated fingers into his mouth.
he feels good. deeply good.
he processes. biology explains the hard on. biology explains the moaning. biology does not explain why his chest feels tight when you’re around. biology definitely does not explain why he wants to keep you breathing.
because he wants you here. wants your tits back in his hands. wants your moans in his ear while he fucks you again on the kitchen counter with sour worms stuck to your ass. he wants to keep you.
he sits up, swings his legs off the bed, and dresses back up. he thought of no boxers, easy access, his brain said, but he wears them anyway because he knows he’ll need it.
you’re in the kitchen when he comes down, standing at the counter with your back to him, rummaging through shit.
his hand reaches out behind you toward the knife block. his fingers close around the handle of one of the bigger blades, sliding it free without a sound. holds it loosely at his side, thumb brushing the flat of the blade once, eyes fixed on the back of your neck, on the way your hair falls on it, how you’re breathing.
you turn toward him. then, you step right into his space, rising up on your toes and wrapping both arms around his neck.
seungmin can feel your soft tits squishing against his chest through the shirt. you smell like sweat and sex and artificial watermelon, and he feels something inside of himself again. hm.
he wraps his arms around your waist. pulling you in tighter so your hips meet his. the knife is pointed upward behind your back, but you don’t know about it.
“that was really good.” you murmur
“hm.” that’s agreement from him, by the way.
you giggle, beautiful, and lean in to kiss him again. seungmin kisses back, slow, his left hand sliding around on your waist until his fingers slip just under the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin.
he moves the knife.
the blade slides up slowly along your spine, the flat side first so you feel the cool steel through the fabric of your shirt. you freeze mid kiss, a tiny surprised sound catching in your throat. he keeps going, letting the edge press a bit now, trailing it higher until it reaches the back of your neck. then he circles it around, until the sharp point rests right against the side of your pretty throat, right where your pulse is hammering.
you pull back just enough to look at him, eyes wide but not panicked yet. “whoa.” you whisper, voice a little breathy. “is this… some kind of kink? like, knife play ooooorrr…?” you drag the last word out playfully, even though your heart is suddenly racing loud enough for both of you to hear.
“mm. i want to kill you.”
“oh. great.”
he presses the knife a little firmer, letting the sharp edge trace along the curve of your neck, then down to your collarbone, then back up again in slow circles.
your breathing gets harder, chest rising and falling faster, nipples tightening visibly through your shirt from the rush of fear and something else that feels stupidly close to arousal. every exhale comes out shaky and warm against his jaw. he likes the way your pulse jumps under the steel.
“you’re taking this very well.” he mutters.
you swallow carefully, feeling the blade move with you. “well… you did just fuck me really nicely upstairs. seems rude to complain now.”
seungmin tilts his head, considering. the knife presses harder. a tiny bead of blood wells up where the tip kisses your skin. you whine in pain. the new feeling in his chest twists uncomfortably.
you knee him straight in the crotch suddenly.
like, slamming right into his balls with all strength you have.
seungmin makes high pitched, surprised wheeze/squeak. the knife clatters to the floor as both his hands fly to his groin. he doubles over instantly, eyes watering, pretty face twisted in pure agony.
you bolt. barefoot, you sprint out the front door into the cool night air, gravel biting into your bare feet, heart hammering. into the woods.
seungmin stays on the kitchen floor for a solid thirty seconds, curled around his bruised balls, breathing through his teeth in short, pained hisses. fucking HELL.
“fuck.” he mutters, then forces himself upright, one hand still cupping his crotch protectively, and looks at the open front door.
he follows soon. walking. shoes on. balls recover quick on him too. knife’s blade cleaned on his shirt on the way out.
he is leading this situation completely. he knows these woods better than you ever could. he knows every trail, every dip, every place where the ground turns really bad for bare feet.
he follows the sound of your whimpers and the occasional “ow fuck” that drifts through the trees. it’s almost cute how loud you’re being.
he could run and end this in minutes, but he does not. he lets you tire yourself out. lets the forest do half the work for him.
smart.
you, on the other hand, are suffering. god, the forest barefoot hurts so much. like. you’re limping now. trying to favor the less injured foot, but it’s useless. a particularly evil root catches your toe and you yelp, nearly face planting into a bush. you catch yourself on a tree trunk, breathing hard, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the pure pain. your feet are going to be shredded by morning. if you make it to morning.
“ow—fuck—ow—why did i not grab shoes—stupid, stupid—” you mutter breathlessly, hopping on one foot for a second when something particularly pointy buries itself in your feet.
every snap of a twig sounds like death. but he hasn’t caught you yet. so you keep moving, pushing deeper into the trees, trying to put more distance between you and the quiet footsteps you swear you can hear now and then.
seungmin spots a flash of your shirt through the trees ahead. he just alters his path slightly, cutting diagonally to herd you toward the thicker underbrush where bare feet will suffer even more. the knife stays ready in his hand, pointed down now, but ready to rise.
he can hear your whimpers getting closer, the little pained sounds you make every time you step on something sharp.
it should feel satisfying. instead it feels… bad.
you stumble again, biting back another yelp as a rock digs into your heel. “ow—motherfucker—why are there so many pointy things in one forest—” you hiss, hopping on one foot while trying to brush nature off the other one.
seungmin is in no rush. he knows exactly where this path leads. he knows you’re barefoot and hurting and slowing down whether you want to admiit it or not.
the only real problem right now is your feet. god, they hurt so much.
just then, a hand wraps around your wrist one hard yank and you’re pulled backward, slamming spine first into the rough trunk of a thick tree. the impact knocks the air out of you. fuck. okay. that hurt. bark scrapes raw against your back through the thin shirt, and a fresh jolt shoots up your already destroyed feet as they skid across the forest floor.
seungmin grabs your hair, yanks on it to make sure your head hurts too before he lets you fall against the tree.
well, fuck.
“you run loud.” he says.
“…what?” you cough out.
“you stepped on everything.”
“yeah, that’s how the ground works, baby boy.”
you can’t even look at him, you’re too dizzy. off. but if you could, you’d see that he’s calm. so calm.
“you don’t think about your surroundings enough. you react, but you don’t plan ahead. you rely on instinct, but your instincts aren’t trained. it works in normal situations, but not here. not when someone is actively…” he gestures with the knife.
“trying to kill you.” you finish for him.
“yeah.”
“well excuse me for not having an experience with this. i’ve never been chased through the forest by a guy who just fucked me twenty minutes ago.” you shift a little, wincing as the wood digs deeper. “so… you do this a lot? the whole… chasing and knife thing?”
“i kill people.”
“…okay. wow.”
“regularly.”
“right.”
“it’s not difficult.”
“i believe you.”
“…i’ve also been watching you.” he adds.
oh. now that’s different.
“what? dude. for how long?”
“…since the cat.”
“that’s…” you let out a short breath, shaking your head a little. hurts so bad. “that’s a long time, seungmin.”
“yeah. i followed you home most nights. stood outside your building. or went inside. listened to you talk to yourself in your apartment sometimes. you laugh at your own jokes a lot.”
god, it hurts so much. “that is… deeply creepy, seungmin. and kind of flattering in the worst way possible. what, you liked my one woman comedy shows through the window?”
“they were not bad.”
you let out a chuckle-breath-deargodmyspinehurts. “that’s why you always ‘ran into me.’”
“yeah.”
“that’s insane.”
“it worked.”
“yeah. it did.” you cough once. twice. it hurts your lungs. your legs are shaking. you feel the warmth of blood running down your spine. “why? like, logistically, sure, whatever, but why me?”
“…you’re a problem.”
“am i?”
“yeah.”
“how?”
he’s thinking. “…you don’t fit.”
“into what?”
“anything.”
“jeez, thanks, dude.”
“you affect things.”
“things like?”
“…me.”
“…okay,” you say slowly. “that’s… interesting. you mean like—i annoy you? because that’s fair, i talk a lot—”
“no.”
“no?”
“not that.”
you tilt your head slightly, trying to get anything off his face. but it’s dark. your head hurts. you can barely focus from the pain in your body.
“i think you don’t know what to do with your feelings.” you mutter.
“…i don’t have them.”
“i don’t think that’s true.”
“it is.”
you shake your head slightly. okay, ow, fuck, why do you keep doing this if it hurts. “i think it’s easier for you to say that than to deal with them.”
“no.”
“okay. then explain this. you didn’t have to tell me any of this. you didn’t have to keep seeing me. you definitely didn’t have to talk to me like this.”
he watches you. that little mind is working, though.
“seungmin, i think you feel things. i just think you don’t recognize them.”
“…i don’t know what that means.”
“yeah. i figured. i think you have a crush.”
he goes still. completely. psycho little brain connecting the dots that felix said just the same thing. “…no.”
“yeah. yeah, you do.”
“no.”
“you’ve been following me for weeks. you let me drag you around everywhere, you came to my apartment, you didn’t kill me when you had like—so many chances—”
“that’s not—”
“and now you’re out here having a full conversation with me instead of just…” you gesture at the knife. “…doing your thing.”
silence.
“you kill people because you don’t feel anything about them. and you do feel something now, you just don’t know what to do with it.”
he shakes his pretty head. “no.” he drops to one knee in front of you, and the knife comes up to the side of your throat, pinning your head back against the tree.
you’re breathing harder now. “and upstairs? when you were inside me? when you moaned into my shoulder and let me shove my fingers in your mouth? was that part of the not feeling too, or did your murder plan get interrupted by an orgasm?”
his hand is shaking against your throat, but the knife doesn’t cut you. “both. i still wanted to kill you after. even more, maybe.”
“are you sure? because maybe you’re just not used to feeling things. or you don’t know how to process them. you’re gonna come again with the ‘i don’t feel things” but that’s not true. you feel irritation. you’ve told me that. you feel… something about me, or this wouldn’t be happening.”
he doesn’t respond.
“and i think that freaks you out.” you add. “because it’s not something you can control the same way.”
nothing moves. he stays kneeling in front of you, knife to your throat, body keeping you trapped against the tree. the only sounds are your ragged breathing and the distant rustle of leaves.
“so what now, minnie?” you whisper, looking at him with wide eyes, bare feet throbbing, neck stinging, heart racing. “you gonna do it? or are we gonna keep having this extremely weird conversation until my feet fall off?”
he tilts the blade slightly, letting the sharp edge trace one slow, cold line along your skin. “i haven’t decided yet.”
and he really means it.
so.
if you hadn’t talked before, if you hadn’t told him what you thought about what he felt, this would’ve been over already. seungmin would have killed you without hesitation.
but you did talk. you did understand things.
and now, something is wrong.
not with you. with him. because now wanting to kill you doesn’t feel correct anymore. not at all.
he doesn’t want to kill you.
he doesn’t want to.
he never really did. not even a little. all of it, the stalking, the house, the sex, the knife has been one long, stupid, backwards way of wanting to keep you close. to keep you alive. to keep you.
he realizes what this is.
it has always been this.
took him long enough.
he pulls the knife away. lowers it to his side without looking at it. his shoulders drop the tension from them with a quiet breath. he stares at you, long, then his gaze drifts down to your feet. they are an absolute disaster. dirty, bleeding in several places, pine needles and dirt and whatnot stuck to you, already swelling. and it’s dark. your state is so bad that he can see it in this darkness.
“do you want help with that?” he asks.
“…yeah.” you exhale. “i think i do.”
“hm.” is his answer before he slides the knife into the waistband of his pants, and comes closer. then he bends down and picks you up. gently. one arm under your knees, the other around your back, lifting you. as he gets up from his kneel with you, your ruined feet dangle safely away from the ground. your arms instinctively go around his neck again, and your face ends up tucked against his shoulder.
oh. okay. hello. wow.
the contrast is insane. thirty seconds ago he had a knife to your throat telling you he kills people regularly, and now he’s carrying you through the dark woods. even adjusts his hold slightly, making sure you’re stable and comfortable. (comfortable? jesus christ. that’s what we’re doing now.)
his arm tightens slightly around you, pulling you closer into his chest as he steps over a root that would have destroyed what was left of your feet.
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, exhausted and aching and stupidly safe in the arms of the man who just tried to kill you. “you’re confusing.” you murmur.
“i know.”
you stay tucked against his chest the whole way back, arms loosely around his neck, cheek resting on his boney shoulder. the silence feels… good. both of you need it right now. even though part of your brain whispers that this could still be a trap, that he might carry you inside, set you down, and finish what he started with the knife, you do not feel in danger. not really.
you accept it. if he decides to kill you after all, fine. not like you could have survived this.
but seungmin doesn’t want to hurt you anymore. he doesn’t understand it, but he doesn’t fight it either. he just realized it, and that’s fine. that’s fine with him.
and he does end up carrying you back to the house. through the left open door, through the kitchen where the bag of gummies still sits abandoned on the counter, and into the downstairs bathroom. sets you down gently on the wide edge of the bathtub, your ruined feet dangling over the porcelain into the tub. then he turns the water on, tests the temperature with his hand, and places the shower head into your palm without a word.
he sits on the floor right next to you, back against the tub, knees drawn up, silent as ever. usually, if you were someone normal(but still in the close to him range, let’s say you were felix’s annoying ass) he’d sit on the tub next to you. but he trusts you enough to be below you.
blood swirls pink down the drain when you get to work on yourself. your feet look even worse under the light, cuts, bruises, swollen whatnot, but the water is gentle and you take your time, rinsing carefully.
“you’re being weirdly nice.” you say.
“i’m fixing it.”
“fixing what?”
“damage.”
“…thanks. you’re doing well so far.”
he leans his head back so it rests lightly against your thigh. his eyes close. he’s actually feeling right now, there is something inside of him. he doesn’t want to kill you. he wants this, the quiet, the warm water, your skin, the fact that you are letting him sit here after everything.
you keep washing your legs slowly, letting the water soothe the aches, and for once you don’t fill the silence with chatter.
seungmin eventually stands up, gives you a towel, and takes care of your feet. yeah i won’t write this in detail because i don’t want it to seem like i’m into feet in that creepy way. anyways, he bandages what needs bandaging, smooths on some ointment, daddy knows how to take care of ruined skin, and that is that.
you get scooped up again. walked out of the bathroom. sat on the edge of the kitchen counter.
seungmin turns you gently by the shoulders so you’re facing away from him, now you’re sitting cross legged on the counter. it’s stupidly cute and you both know it. he reaches around, grabs the hem of your shirt, and tugs it up and over your head(with the help of you lifting your tried arms up). places it down next to you softly. your back is a mess of red scrapes and blood and scratches from the tree bark, some already turning faint purple.
“tree got you.” he mutters.
he gets a bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton pads. you feel the cool swipe of the liquid across your upper back where the tree bark had scraped you raw. it stings and you hiss, arching from the pain.
“easy.” he says, voice flat, as usual. his free hand rests lightly on your waist to keep you still, thumb brushing slow circles against your skin. could be an apology? he will never know how to apologize in words.
eventually, you decide to get to know this version, the real version of him, better. “why do you kill people?” you ask quietly.
seungmin keeps dabbing the antiseptic on a deeper scrape. the sting makes you hiss, squirm.
“because they piss me off.”
fun fact, felix once went into seungmin’s face just to take a picture of him and put his blank face in a pic, “ts pmo” written above it. anytime seungmin texts him to buy something on his way back, felix sends it to him. might be felix’s favorite reaction pic.
you nod. “when did you start?”
another swipe of antiseptic, this one lower on your ribs. his fingers are warm on your skin. you love how warm his body is, compared to how cold his heart is.
“fourteen.” he says. “first one was my neighbor. he used to kick his dog. one night i made him stop. felt right. after that i kept on doing it. sometimes people paid me. sometimes they didn’t.”
“how do you usually do it? knife? something else?”
“depends.” he says, moving to another scrape on your shoulder blade. “knife usually. hands when i want it personal. i have other tools in the basement here. don’t go down there. and i have a gun at home.” he finishes with that tiny part of your skin, then whispers: “felix almost found it once.”
wow. this needs processing for you. but actually, you have already accepted that this is the man you’re dealing with. this is the man you fucked. and this is the man you still want. you’ll sleep on it once and you’ll be fine. (tf not)
“do you ever feel bad after?” you continue.
“no.”
you let out a small breath as he moves to another scratch. “do you enjoy it?”
he presses a fresh pad to your skin. “i do. it can get boring though. everything is boring compared to you.”
and wow. let’s take a moment to process how much this sentence means from him.
that makes you smile, even with the sting. you tilt your head a little, looking over your shoulder at him. “so stalking me was more interesting than murder?”
“yes.” without hesitation, switching to the other side of your back. “you were never boring. not once.”
“aw. thank you. you’re really bad at having a crush though. most people just text.“
“i’m aware.” he mutters. he finishes with the antiseptic and reaches for the bandages, carefully placing them over the worst spots.
and you’re done.
you feet are done. your back is done. emotionally, you might need a break.
instead you get seungmin’s hands on your waist. not like you’re complaining though, you even tilt your head to the side, offering your mouth, and he leans down to kiss you.
you sigh into it, one hand reaching back to thread through his hair.
his arms slide around you from behind. his hands come up to cup your tits, fingers spreading over the softness, the weight. he squeezes gently at first, then a little harder, fingers curling around your nipples.
it feels weirdly soothing, compared to the rest of the night so far. but you’re fine.
he keeps kissing you, tongue sliding against yours, while his hands knead and caress, fingers flicking until you ache sweetly.
you take his tongue into your mouth. your lips close around it, warm and wet, and you suck. seungmin’s hands freeze completely on your tits, fingers going still mid squeeze, hovering just above your nipples. it affects him so much he forgets how to move.
you suck a little harder, hollowing your cheeks, then drag your teeth gently along the length of his tongue before soothing it with another slow, filthy lick. you kiss it too, soft open mouthed presses right on the slick muscle, like you’re making out with his tongue specifically.
he genuinely can’t believe that you’re this into him.
every bit of focus he has is pouring straight into his mouth. the wetness, the gentle scrape of your teeth, the way you suck and kiss and lick like you’re starving for the taste of him. it’s overwhelming.
you pull away for one second, lips shiny and swollen, a thin strand of spit still linking you to his mouth. then you twist on the counter, spinning to face him fully. your pretty legs come up and cage him in, ankles locking behind his back, heels pressing into the small of his spine to pull him closer. your arms wrap around his neck again, fingers threading into his hair, and you drag him in.
now that is making out.
wet. loud. the wet sounds of tongues and lips smacking fill the quiet kitchen, saliva dripping down your chins and onto your bare chest. you bite his lower lip, tug it between your teeth, then soothe it with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth again. he chases you, tongue thrusting deep, licking along the roof of your mouth, then pulling back so he can suck on yours instead.
he finally remembers he has those pretty hands. they slide up your ribs and cup your tits once more, fingers twisting your nipples even while he kisses you deeper, filthier. even catches some dripping saliva with his thumb and smears it over your nipple, putting it to good use.
you just suck his tongue deeper into your mouth, pulling it in, sucking that makes obscene little sounds in the quiet kitchen. plus the occasional helpless whimper from him when you bite his lower lip and tug. cutie.
his hands knead your tits harder, squeezing them together and pushing them up, sometimes dropping them right back into his palms so he can feel their weight while your tongues fuck each other in slow, nasty strokes.
then, seungmin pulls back from the kiss with a wet gasp. his pretty lips are swollen and shiny with spit. he goes back to you, but now, he starts kissing down your body, greedy and pathetic and loving.
your neck, sucking lightly at the tiny cut he left earlier. lower. he drags his mouth between your tits, licking up the mess of spit still glistening there, sucking one nipple hard into his mouth before moving to the other.
your back arches on the counter.
he keeps going, kissing down your stomach, tongue dipping into your belly button for a tiny second. testing how every part of you tastes.
his hands hook into the waistband of your pants. gets them down your hips and off your legs, more confident in himself now.
the cool air hits your soaked pussy and you shiver. seungmin stares for a long second, eyes dark and focused and big, then drops to his knees right there on the kitchen floor. holy shit.
he leans in and drags his tongue up your slit in one long, slow stripe.
fuck.
the first taste makes his eyes flutter. warm, slick, a little sweet, human, living and wet and a girl. he likes it. a lot. he licks again, deeper this time, spreading your folds with his tongue and savoring the you twitch around his mouth.
eating pussy is interesting, he thinks hazily. the soft, slippery texture on his tongue, the way your thighs are around his ears, the little movements that go through your whole body every time he flicks over your clit. it’s hot. weirdly, stupidly hot. his face is getting soaked and he doesn’t care, even.
he buries his tongue inside you, pushing in as deep as it will go, fucking you with slow strokes while his nose grinds against your clit. it sounds filthy. so fucking dirty and disgusting and obscene and so human. loud, obscene slurping and sucking.
your hands fly down to grip his hair, hips rolling against his face as cute little moans spill out of you. he moans right back into your pussy, the feeling making your toes curl inside the bandages.
he didn’t make you cum earlier. he knows that, he knew that. upstairs he had chased his own pleasure like a selfish animal, actually convinced he might kill you after so who the fuck cares. now this is different. this feels like making up for it.
he grips your thighs hard, spreading you wider, holding you open so he can lick and suck and devour and be a horrible man.
his cock is jealous of his tongue.
the same hands that wrap bodies in plastic are now spreading your pussy open so he can lick deeper, groaning at how good you taste, how warm and wet you are on his mouth.
he pulls back for half a second, lips shiny and chin dripping, just to look at how soaked and puffy you are, then dives back in. two fingers slide inside you, looking around while he presses his face harder against you, rubbing his nose and lips and tongue everywhere, coating himself in you. he wants to wear the smell for days. it’s… strangely tender?
he’s not stopping until you cum. not this time. but judging by the way you sound just so cute right now, it won’t be hard.
he had seen this exact act in porn before. plenty of times. women moaning around while some guy buried his face between their legs. he always watched with mild interest. it looked intriguing. he had thought about trying it once or twice, just to see what the fuss was about, but never enough to actually go find a living woman willing to spread her thighs for him.
now he’s on his knees in his own kitchen, face buried deep in your soaked pussy, and it’s so damn good he feels almost stupid for waiting this long.
every slow lick drags more of your wetness across his lips and chin. it’s hotter and softer and wetter than anything he imagined, and the smell of you is out of this world good. seungmin has truly just found happiness.
and he likes your reactions too. every tiny whimper, every shaky breath, every time your thighs tremble and squeeze around his ears, it makes his empty little heart throb.
he knows now.
he knows this feeling has nothing to do with biology or boredom or “having nothing better to do.” he wants this. your pleasure. your little sounds. your thighs shaking around his face while he drowns in your pussy. he finally found something worth kneeling for.
seungmin moans loudly into your cunt, and his fingers pump faster, curling and stroking while his tongue works your clit. he’s sloppy and eager and completely lost in it, chin dripping, nose buried against your mound, lips sucking and licking, trying to drink every drop of you.
he glances up(without stopping), watching the way your tits bounce as you writhe around or hump up against his face, the way your mouth falls open, the way your arm’s muscles flex as you hold yourself up.
he presses his face harder against you, rubbing his tongue and lips and chin everywhere, coating himself in your slick until it drips down his neck. the taste keeps getting better the wetter you get, and the little spasms in your pussy around his fingers make his own cock leak into his boxers. he has never wanted any good for anyone until now.
when you moan louder as his fingers curl upward inside you, he does it again, slower, then faster, learning the exact rhythm that you like. when you grind against his face and whimper as his tongue works quickly over your clit, he stays right there, pressing firmer, licking in quick strokes that make you moan louder.
he reacts to what you react to.
you like when he sucks your clit between his lips and flicks the tip of his tongue fast? he does it again immediately, sucking harder. you like when he shakes his head side to side with his mouth sealed over your pussy? he does that too, growling into your cunt so the vibrations go through you while his nose grinds against your clit. two fingers become three when your hips start chasing his hand, even.
the now three fingers curl faster, stroking the spot inside you he just discovered you like so much while his mouth seals over your clit again, sucking quickly and leaving little smooch and squelch and schlick sounds behind.
and boom. seungmin just gave the first orgasm to someone in his life.
and it’s so hot. how your pussy clamps down around his fingers, pulsing. how you cry out and make it known how good it feels. how your thighs lock around his head so tight he can barely breathe. his eyes stay open, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, the way your tits heave, the way your whole body shakes and jerks on his kitchen counter.
his face is soaked. his cock is aching. his chest feels so full it might crack.
he presses one last slow, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive clit, then rests his wet cheek against your inner thigh, breathing hard, eyes closed, completely dazed by how much he loved every second of it.
he does not want to kill you.
he wants to do this again.
and again.
and again.
even for you, this was… a lot to process. but who are you without your horrible decisions about this man? you slide your hands down to his pretty face now, palms cupping his wet cheeks and jaw, and you pull him up gently, guiding him from between your thighs until he’s standing between your spread legs again.
and you kiss him.
it’s such a mental, emotional fuck.
his lips and tongue are soaked with your taste, actually. his hands come up to rest on either side of you on the counter. let’s note that you’re completely naked in front of him, legs still loosely wrapped around his waist, tits pressed softly against his chest, pussy still pulsing and dripping onto the counter from what his mouth just did to you. and you trust him like this without a second thought.
seungmin’s tongue slides against yours. the feeling in his chest is so… alive, it almost hurts.
because you two fit together perfectly.
not just physically, though god, that too. your soft body molds against his harder one. your tits press warm against his chest, your thighs cradle his hips, your soaked pussy rests right against the bulge in his pants.
but what i’m talking about is deeper than that.
because you need a fucked up boyfriend like him. someone cold and quiet and actually, really dangerous to other people. someone who is the opposite of your light but doesn’t even have the chance to dim it. someone who will carry you through the woods after trying to kill you and then eat your pussy on the kitchen counter.
and he needs a ray of sunshine like you. someone loud and kind and wild. someone who fills all the empty, silent spaces inside him.
his hands slide up your sides, cupping your tits again but way gentler this time, thumbs brushing over your nipples. this is worship, now.
he wants to keep you.
he wants to be kept by you.
you two are the perfect, disgusting little match.
because now that you got over this, seungmin is just a biiiiiig softie for you!!
like, for only you.
he still barely speaks to anyone else. cashiers at stores get grunts at best. strangers on the street get nothing. but with you, this baby(serial killer who deserves to rot) talks!! because he wants to.
after the… whatever happened in the woods, in that house, he doesn’t let you go just like that. he carries you when your feet hurt. he learns how you like his tongue on your clit. he watches you, your reactions to things so he knows if he needs to kill it or not. the same hands that have ended dozens of lives now hold your hand on the street. the same man who once thought about wrapping you in plastic now tucks blankets around you and makes sure the shower water is warm enough.
you need someone exactly like him.
because he will never be bored of you, because you are the first thing that ever made him feel. because he can handle you.
and he needs someone exactly like you.
because you make the idea of killing feel boring and pointless next to the idea of hearing you moan his name again.
you two fit like a lock.
i mean, he’s still a serial killer. still a horrible man. he will still disappear some nights, of course. but when he comes back to you he’s softer. gentler. his hands know how to hold instead of hurt. his mouth knows how to worship instead of stay silent.
you’ll mention once that you hate walking on cold floors, and suddenly he’s making sure you have something to wear on your feet whenever you’re at his place.
oh, yeah, his place. felix.
so. seungmin brings you over one day. which is already suspicious because he avoided this for so long.
felix is on the couch. shirtless. limbs spread around. just again, energy drink in one hand. he looks like he snorted something recently. did he?
felix looks at you. then at seungmin. then back at you.
“…dude.” he says, sitting.
“hi.” you mumble.
he stands up. approaches. too fast.
“holy shit.” he says, circling you slightly. “you’re the girl??”
“…i—yeah?”
“the one he was stalking??”
“…we’re gonna unpack that later.”
“he told you??” felix looks at seungmin, offended. “you never tell me shit like that.” then immediately turns back to you. “i’m felix, by the way. sorry in advance.”
then he gives you the biggest hug before you can even introduce yourself back.
seungmin is considering homicide again.
“so how’d you two meet?” felix asks, flopping back onto the couch.
“a cat. there was a cat. we… talked over the cat.”
“sick.”
he’s lowk respecting seungmin now because wdym he bagged you by being creepy. incredible. felix has been trying the opposite approach this whole time.
felix leans toward you slightly. “you know he’s weird, right?”
“i gathered.”
“like, really weird.”
“i know.”
“like, ‘i might die’ weird.”
“we’ve worked through that.”
“you’ve WHAT.”
so yeah. now you know felix. hang out sometimes too when seungmin leaves the house without telling either of you why. what a bitch. and a total babe, he’s so cute you can never be mad at him.
and felix can tell you’re good for seungmin. he’d like you even if there was no seungmin at all, genuinely, but if you make his bestest friend(guy who wants to skin him alive)(okay actually seungmin would kill for felix) happy, then you’re even better. he does sneak something into his prayers though. a tiny, tiny wish to god.
a threesome.
just one. or two. or seventeen. he’s not picky.
he just wants to hit. like, both of you are hot. mostly you. and now that we’re here yeah seungmin has this sexy aura. and felix likes having crushes. so please give him one fucking chance to tap that, or more like tap those, amen.
he knows it’s never going to happen. seungmin is possessive as fuck when it comes to you. but a man can dream. a man can pray.
but yeah, seungmin doesn’t like other people touching you in general. at all. you’ll hug a friend and he’ll just be standing there, still as fuck.
later: “you hug people a lot.”
“yeah.” you shrug. “i like people.”
“don’t.”
“that’s not how that works, baby.”
he likes getting called baby.
you kind of make it up though. you’re huge on physical touch. you lean on him, grab his arm, rest your head against his shoulder. and he lets you every time. he likes it just as much, trust.
psychologically it fucks seungmin. like with a big fat strap on that he was skeptical about first but ended up shooting ropes of cum across the sheets because it kept pounding into his prostate. okay weird metaphor but you get the point.
he starts questioning everything. why does his stomach feel weird when you fall asleep on him? why does the idea of hurting you now feel disgusting? why does killing other people start to feel… pointless?
some nights he comes home late, sleeves dark and wet, knuckles split, smelling faintly of blood.
you just sigh, grab a warm towel, and start cleaning his hands in the sink. you’re such an angel about it that he almost feels guilty. almost.
he gets away with everything. you let him.
why, some would ask. seungmin is a serial killer, y/n. he’s an evil man. and your answer is, he’s just too cute.
y/n you crazy bitch.
okay, but really. he can be adorable. like, take, you’re lying on the couch scrolling on your phone. seungmin has his head resting on your tummy, face turned sideways, cheek pressed against your soft warm skin. his arms are loosely wrapped around your waist. not asleep. just being there, smelling you, listening to the faint sounds of your stomach and the tap of your nails on the screen.
you’re texting felix’s fuckass. he wants you to bring canned corn over the next time you go to their place. you will.
seungmin nuzzles closer, rubbing his face against your tummy.
only you get him like this.
you look down at him, phone still in hand, and gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. he closes his eyes.
you two are so stupidly made for each other.
you’re the only person in the world who is safe with him.
he’s still cold and mean to everyone else. felix once tried to hug him and seungmin just stared until felix backed away muttering “okay crazy bitch it’s like that then.” but with you he lets you crawl all over him. he lets you sit on his face for hours if you want. he lets you give him a full facial(with actual products, we’re talking casual now) while he rests his head on your thighs and almost falls asleep.
you are genuinely the dream girlfriend.
and you’re always just so needy for him.
it never stops. some days you just know you have a hot(ruthless psychopath) boyfriend and you’re content with it, other days you cannot keep your hands off him. you crawl into his lap while he’s cleaning his knives, pressing wet kisses along his neck and whispering “please, minnie, need you” or you wake him up in the middle of the night by sliding under the blankets and sucking his cock slowly until he wakes up moaning in that little sleepy voice.
on his end, it feels so good to be needed like this.
seungmin has spent most of his life being feared or avoided. people look at him and… don’t want to. but you’re so down for him anytime. take the way you bite your lips when you need him, the way you whine and beg and rub yourself against his thigh like you cannot wait another second. it makes him feel wanted.
he loves seeing you like this.
he loves when you get all flushed and restless, when you can’t even form full sentences because you’re too busy trying to grind on his hand or his mouth or his cock. he loves the way you light up the second he walks through the door and immediately start pulling at his clothes, needy little sounds falling from your lips before he has even touched you. he loves how shameless you are about it, how you will drop to your knees in the middle of the kitchen, how you will ride his face until your thighs shake and your voice goes hoarse, how you beg so sweetly even when he’s already buried balls deep inside you.
he especially loves when you get greedy after he has been gone for a while. you will push him down onto the bed, climb on top, and ride him to the fucking afterlife. he actually saw the light once. but first saw your tits bouncing, hands on his chest, moaning around as you used his cock exactly how you needed it. he couldn’t deal with how hot you were.
genuinely, how did be get this lucky?
you’re unreal. there is no other woman like you.
so he gives you everything you need.
he lets you wake him up with your mouth. he lets you ride his face until you cry. he bends you over the kitchen counter and fucks you hard when you text him you’re aching for him. he kisses you while you cling to him, felix grinding some shit game next room and just hootin n hollerin around. and every single time, that new feeling in his body grows stronger.
you want him constantly. his hands, his mouth, his cock, his attention. all of it. and he’s always so fucking grateful to be the one you need.
and he still gets flustered sometimes. this is his first relationship. so when you beg him to fuck you harder while your nails dig into his back, his ears go pink and his breath catches like a virgin even though he’s balls deep inside you. it’s adorable and ridiculous on a man who kills people for mild irritation.
he’s a switch, through and through, and you bring both sides out of him.
some nights he pins you down on the bed or the kitchen counter or against the wall, desperately fucking you deep and ruthless. desperate is the key word, it’s more desperate here than dominant. this man is not a dom. again, switch, leaning towards bottom.
other nights he lets you take over, that might be even better for him.
he gets so flustered when you’re on top. pretty lips parted, cheeks flushed, hands gripping your thighs because he needs something to hold onto while you use him. you love telling him how good he feels, how perfect his cock is, how you need him to fill you up, and every word makes his breath hitch and his hips jerk and his heart react.
his heart never reacted to anything before. he’s always so overwhelmed now.
he can go from calmly telling you he killed someone three hours ago to blushing and whimpering because you called him a good boy while bouncing on his cock. he can hold a knife to your throat one night and the other night be on his knees with his face buried between your legs, letting you grind on his tongue until you soak his chin. he gives you everything. soft and rough. gentle and cruel. dominant and submissive. whatever you need, he becomes.
and you give him the one thing he never knew he was starving for, the feeling of being wanted so badly that someone crawls into his lap and begs for him.
seungmin is in fucking heaven.
he still doesn’t say soft words easily. but when you’re riding him slowly, whispering how much you need him, he will wrap his arms around you so tight it almost hurts, (actually, does most of the time, this man is skinny but strong) and bury his face in your neck. when you’re on your knees sucking him off and looking up at him with those needy eyes, he’ll stroke your hair with shaky fingers and let out these little sounds that make your pussy throb. when he’s fucking you from behind and you keep moaning that you’re his, he loses rhythm for a second because the feeling in his chest gets so violent it blinds him.
he’s addicted to being needed by you.
he’s soft for you and only you, even when he’s pounding you into the mattress so hard the bed creaks. especially then.
he would burn the world down for you. genuinely. but first he would get on his knees and let you use his face until you’re satisfied, because being needed by you is the best thing he has ever, ever felt.
yeah you two are real nasty. literally match each other’s freaks so perfectly.
you love giving handjobs. take, one afternoon you are both on the couch when you crawl into his lap, kiss him for a while, then slip your hand down into his sweatpants. just like that.
you wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him lazily. the way seungmin’s chest rises is addictive, really. or how his breath catches every time your thumb swirls over the head, spreading the slick precum.
he stays mostly quiet but his hips twitch up into your fist and his pretty lips part. you rest your forehead against the side of his face, sometimes neck, sometimes moving to his temple, whispering how thick he feels, how much you love making him leak for you.
he cums with this quiet little manly sound, pulsing all over your fingers and his own stomach while you kiss the corner of his mouth. then take his mouth into yours, finding his tongue to biting on it.
he looks almost embarrassed afterward. what a babe.
another night at the murder house, as you two call it now, he comes up from the basement after a reeeaaaal long time spent down there. you know about the corpses there btw, you always have to throw up. anyways. you meet him at the door, and drop to your knees right there in the hallway.
you suck him off messily, so eager, moaning around his cock and all that, so into him.
he threads his fingers through your hair, lets you take what you want, knees buckling but managing to stay standing.
when he gets close he pulls you up, bends you over the back of the couch, and fucks you hard from behind.
just again, corpse rotting under the house.
or another, felix is in the next room screaming at his ranked games. like really screaming, calling people donkey fuckers and howling through the wall, controller smashing sounds following.
you and seungmin are in his(seungmin’s) bed, spooned, his chest pressed to your back. he has one arm wrapped around you, hand cupping your breast, squeezing while his cock slides in and out of your soaked pussy in these lazy thrusts. you have to stay quiet. every time he sinks in nice and slow you bite your lip hard, trying not to moan. he presses his face into the back of your neck, breathing into your skin. it’s so unbelievably intimate. more intimate if you think about the fact that this is a serial killer getting this treatment.
“fuck—yes—right there—” you whisper, barely audible, circling your clit yourself while seungmin drools onto your shoulder. felix screams again in the next room about other players and intergalactic skill issues and fucking someone’s mother.
or sometimes seungmin gets flustered and lets you take full control. like, tie his wrists to the headboard with one of his own belts type of full control. riding him so so so mean, grinding down on his cock while he stares up at you with pretty, hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. this brutal serial killer reduced to getting tied down and desperate little thrusts because his needy girlfriend wants to use him, straining against the belt with these frustrated, needy sounds.
it’s more exciting to fuck at their place when felix could hear, but it’s much more human when it’s just the two of you.
take a real early morning where seungmin wakes up before you hard and aching because you fell asleep naked and pressed against him. he slides down under the sheets without waking you, gently spreads your thighs, and starts licking slow stripes up your pussy.
you stir with a sleepy whimper, fingers threading into his hair as he eats you instead of breakfast. genuinely unhurried, savoring everything. everything. when you’re dripping and whining his name he crawls back up, slides inside you slowly, excited that you’re not making him wear a condom, and fucks you while you’re still half asleep and clinging to him.
clinging to him is an important part. it’s all so brutally intimate and the two of you.
no matter how you fuck, fast and filthy in the car, slow and sweet in the morning, desperate and quiet with felix yelling next door, or in the basement on the table he cuts people up, seungmin is always completely obsessed with your whole being.
and you’re always completely obsessed with how perfectly he gives you everything.
you two are so fucked up. and so stupidly, perfectly in love.
doesn’t help that sometimes he gets so excited about you that he acts just like a puppy!!
his version of wagging his tail is following you from room to room, wordless. when you come home from work he’s already waiting by the door, not jumping or barking obviously, but his eyes light up in that tiny way that is fucking crazy coming from a psychopath who swims in human guts in his free time.
one evening you walk through the door and the second it clicks shut he’s on you. not in a sexual way (yet), just pressing his face into your neck and being a clingy little bitch. his arms wrap around your waist soooo tight and he lets out this tiny happy sound against your skin even.
you laugh and scratch the back of his neck and he leans into it harder, eyes half closed, completely relaxed. if he had a tail it would be thumping against the wall.
just again, likes stabbing people.
felix still calls him a “creepy quiet bitch” behind his back. strangers avoid him like the plague. but with you, he’s just the softest, most eager babe in existence. following you. nuzzling you. getting visibly happier the second you pay attention to him. letting you baby him and call him sweet things even though he would kill anyone else for trying.
he’s discovering his emotions just now. this is his first time feeling and being accepted for what he is, showing someone what he is.
and sure, you might have gotten over the fact that he stalked you, like, way too fast, but it’s just so hard to stay mad at him. when he discovered that he can lean into a kiss first, that he can initiate(which says a lot, because this man has never been this close to anyone in his life before and wanted to kill every single human being before you, still does just not you), it’s just adorable.
it does not help the puppy image at all that sometimes he literally looks like one when you get your hands on him.
like right now.
you have him sprawled on the bed, pants shoved down just enough. your hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly while you sit between his spread thighs.
seungmin is already panting. tongue actually out a little, pink and wet, lips parted. every time your thumb swipes over the leaking head his hips twitch up and that invisible tail starts wagging harder. his cock swings with the motion, flushed, curving slightly, bouncing against your palm in little wet slaps.
he looks so stupidly eager. eyes half lidded, chest rising fast, tongue lolling that a tiny string of spit threatens to drip down his chin.
this is new for him too. not just the handjob, but the way his emotions crash into the pleasure, it’s all such a mess inside of him. it feels like it’s going to spill out of him.
he’s discovering that sex can be soft and playful and safe. he’s discovering that he likes being looked at like this, naked, panting, cock swinging in your hand while you smile down at him. he’s discovering that the quiet after a kill used to feel like peace but now peace feels like curling up to you or your palm sliding slick over his shaft while you coo at him in that sweet voice.
it’s so hot. this whole context. a serial killer with a body count in the double digits is currently tongue out panting because his sunshine girlfriend is playing with his dick.
just what he deserves for having to live without this for so long. poor baby. (KILL HIM)
you squeeze a little firmer at the base and his tongue slips out further, moaning, even that little sound having a voice crack. the tail wagging metaphor is too perfect. he can’t help it. every good feeling you give him makes that invisible tail thump harder. he’s so excited about you, about this, about the fact that you’re here and naked and touching him, that his body just… reacts.
because you affected him so deeply it’s a whole new chapter in his life, basically.
seungmin used to be a void wearing human skin. and then you came, and he’s never been happier. (never been happy, first place)
he would rather die than let you go. ever.
he’d put a knife to his own throat before he lets something happen to you.
you are the only one for him.
he would kill for you. he would stop killing for you. he would do anything.
fucking hell, he’s starting to think about kids with you.
kim seungmin. the man who has hated every single shithead child he has ever encountered. screaming, sticky little parasites that ruin silence and leave mess everywhere.
he would not hesitate to kill a kid. genuinely. our only luck is that he hadn’t been in a situation yet that had it as an option.
he used to look at them and feel pure irritation. now he catches himself watching you play with some random kid and his heart is actually doing shit.
a kid with you. a little human that would be half you, half him. for the first time in his life the idea does not disgust him. it feels… nice. he imagines you round with his baby and his cock twitches and his chest clenches at the same time.
he would be soft with them too, probably. because they would be yours. because they would be proof that something good came out of all his… uselessness.
yeah, seungmin is pretty aware that he’s useless. genuinely just bad to society, not a piece of good in him. and he’s fine with that.
but he’s also got a lovely girlfriend now.
and he’s a boyfriend.
he never thought he would want any of this. but he’s so happy it’s disgusting. right now he’s lying with his head on your bare stomach again, arms wrapped loosely around your waist, eyes half closed while you play with his hair. your heartbeat can be heard. your breathing moves him gently up and down. he can smell your skin, feel your warmth, hear the faint tapping of your thumbs on your phone. and suddenly, all at once, he knows.
he feels.
he feels so much it almost hurts. love, fear, obsession, tenderness, possessiveness, gratitude, need. he has never felt before and now he feels everything.
his throat tightens. his adrenaline spikes. his arms squeeze you a little tighter. his invisible tail gives one slow, heavy wag against the sheets. he has to cry.
this is what it is to be alive.
he presses his face harder into your tummy, lips brushing your skin.
he would rather die than let you go. he would rather change every ugly part of himself than risk dimming your light. he would give you kids. he would give you everything.
you changed him so deeply that the old version of him is dead. the new version belongs to you completely.
it only takes you.
and seungmin, suddenly, feels.
author’s note: oh hello little senuigmn why are you trying to kill your crush even! 😭😭😭
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