໒꒱ . ⊹ ⁺ in which your boyfriend lee heeseung is cuddling with ur clingy ahh who likes to drink
bf!heeseung x gf!reader wc ~1k
warnings/tags.: fluff, comforting, kisses, alcohol, reader is too clingy, reader have insomnia
my note.: i want cuddles w hee too. hope u enjoy that corny fic i wrote
The apartment was unusually quiet when the front door finally opened.
Rain clung to your coat in tiny droplets, the cool night air following you inside before the door clicked shut behind you. The faint smell of alcohol lingered around you. Not enough to make you completely lose yourself, just enough to blur the sharp edges of another exhausting day. Your eyes felt heavy, but not with sleep. Sleep never came that easily anymore.
For weeks, insomnia had become a familiar visitor. Even after hours lying in bed, your mind refused to rest, pulling you through endless thoughts until sunrise painted the ceiling. Tonight, your friends had convinced you that maybe a few drinks would finally quiet your head.
Instead, you had simply become softer.
Heeseung looked up from the couch the second he heard you. He had been waiting without realizing he was waiting, a movie paused halfway through and a blanket forgotten beside him. The moment he saw your tired expression, his features relaxed into the same gentle smile that somehow always made home feel warmer.
"There you are." His voice was quiet enough to match the peaceful apartment.
You answered with nothing more than a tired hum before slowly walking toward him, your socks barely making a sound against the wooden floor. There wasn’t much balance in your steps, but there wasn’t much urgency either. You looked less drunk than completely worn out.
He barely had time to put his phone down before you climbed onto the couch, settling yourself sideways on his lap as naturally as breathing.
It wasn’t unusual. You had always been hopelessly clingy.
If he sat somewhere, somehow you ended up there too. Resting against his shoulder while he played games, stealing half of his hoodie whenever he studied, wrapping yourself around him while he tried to cook despite contributing absolutely nothing. Physical affection had become your favorite language long before either of you realized it.
Tonight was no different. You tucked your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of laundry detergent mixed with his cologne. Your body relaxed almost immediately, every muscle seeming to let go at once. One of your hands lazily found its way into his soft hair, fingers slipping between dark strands before gently scratching his scalp without thinking.
Heeseung let out the smallest sigh. Not because he minded. Quite the opposite.
His hand automatically settled around your waist, making sure you wouldn’t slide off his lap while your other arm rested loosely around his shoulders. Your fingers continued absentmindedly combing through his hair, slow enough that it almost lulled him to sleep too.
Your fingertips lightly twisted a few strands before smoothing them back down again, repeating the motion over and over. Every now and then your nails traced gentle circles against his scalp, earning another quiet breath from him. You smiled lazily against his neck.
"Cute…"
"You’re saying that everyday."
"Because you are." Your words came out slower than usual, softened by exhaustion more than the alcohol.
Silence settled again.
Outside, rain tapped against the windows in an uneven rhythm while the living room lamp painted everything in warm gold. The movie remained forgotten. Neither of you noticed.
You shifted a little, curling even closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you. Your cheek rested against his chest now, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his shirt. It was strangely comforting, steady enough to quiet the restless thoughts that had been chasing you every night.
Your hand wandered through his hair again before your sleepy curiosity got the better of you. You gently pinched one of his cheeks. Then another. "Hmm…"
He looked down at you with amused eyes. "What is it now?"
"You look really… really kissable."
A tiny grin appeared on his lips.
"So that’s the alcohol talking?"
"No." You blinked up at him with complete seriousness. "I think that all the time."
He laughed quietly, shaking his head while carefully brushing a few messy strands away from your face. You couldn’t help smiling, your eyes already beginning to close again. His thumb slowly rubbed comforting circles against your side. There was no teasing in his touch, no impatience. Just quiet affection, patient enough to let you cling to him for as long as you wanted.
The alcohol made you bolder in tiny ways.
Your fingers lazily traced the line of his jaw before gently squeezing his shoulder, your sleepy gaze drifting over his face with obvious admiration.
"So handsome…"
"You’ve definitely been drinking."
"I’ve also got eyes."
Another laugh escaped him, warm and effortless.
You felt oddly proud of yourself.
Eventually your movements slowed. Your hand remained buried in his hair, but the playful motions disappeared, replaced by light strokes that grew weaker every few seconds.
Your breathing evened out. For the first time in days, your shoulders weren’t tense. Heeseung noticed immediately.
Without disturbing you, he reached behind him for the blanket abandoned on the couch earlier, unfolding it with one hand before draping it over both of you. The fabric settled around your shoulders, trapping the warmth between your bodies.
You instinctively snuggled closer. He rested his cheek lightly against the top of your head. "You sleepy?"
A tiny nod. "Think… I can finally sleep." The words were barely louder than a whisper. Something softened in his expression.
He knew how difficult your nights had become. He knew about the endless pacing through the apartment at three in the morning, the untouched cups of tea, the frustrated sighs whenever another sunrise arrived without any real rest. Seeing you finally relax against him felt like a quiet victory. He pressed a slow kiss into your hair.
Within minutes your grip loosened, though your fingers stubbornly remained tangled in his hair as if they refused to let go completely. Your breathing became deeper, calmer, your face peaceful in a way he hadn’t seen for weeks.
He smiled to himself, barely moving in case even the smallest shift woke you. His legs would probably go numb. His back would probably complain tomorrow. He couldn’t have cared less.
Watching you finally sleep safe, warm, curled up against him like you belonged there. It was worth every second.
And when he quietly brushed another kiss against your forehead, your lips curved into the faintest sleepy smile without ever waking, as if somewhere in your dreams you already knew exactly who was holding you.
໒꒱ . ⊹ ⁺ in which detective park sunghoon was flawless until he met a ghost-like serial killer who hunts the city’s worst criminals
detective!sunghoon x fem!killer!reader wc ~5.5k
warnings/tags.: 18+ MDNI crime triller, enemies to fuckers, graphic violence (descriptions of violence/corpses, weapons), explicit sexual content (handjob/fingering), marking, biting, bdsm themes (choking, handcuffing), childhood trauma/abuse
my note.: thats my first fic … and english is not my first language soo i used translator sometimes pls don’t judge 💔
The yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the midnight breeze, a flimsy barrier against the chaotic noise of the flashing lights and whispering officers. But Sunghoon didn't care about the noise. He adjusted his stance, his cold expression perfectly masking the absolute fury brewing under his skin. Standing at a model-like height, with features so sharp they looked sculpted, he carried himself with an effortless, icy authority. The tiny moles dusting his face, usually seen as attractive quirks, only added to his dangerously detached aura tonight.
As he crossed the restricted line, a couple of officers bowed respectfully. Sunghoon didn't even blink. He kept his chin high, teeth gritting slightly as he maintained that flawless, indifferent facade. It was exactly why the precinct called him the "Cold Monster." He was a ruthless investigator who hunted down criminals without an ounce of hesitation or drama.
Except this time, he was dealing with a literal devil.
Three weeks. Three murders. A serial killer so professional you hadn't left behind a single strand of hair. Honestly, Sunghoon wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be completely bald. But the lack of physical evidence wasn't even the worst part. There wasn't a single witness, a single lead, or a shred of identity on this ghost. The only clear thing was the motive. You exclusively targeted men who had blood on their own hands. A literal eye-for-an-eye vigilante.
Sunghoon refused to view you as some kind of dark hero, especially not when looking down at tonight's victim. The sight was sickening. The man's eyes were crudely sewn shut with thick black thread, a white cloth gag stuffed tightly into his mouth. Seven heavy nails were hammered in a precise collar around his throat. And stapled flat against his stomach with a heavy-duty furniture stapler was a printed rap sheet of his unpunished crimes:
Murder of his wife (1997)
Rape of a college student (2013)
Attempted murder (2018)
Sunghoon stared at the paper, his mind racing. How did this monster even get ahold of these records? The 1997 case had been completely buried, scrubbed from the public domain. Detective Cheong had confirmed it themselves.
Scanning the dark, freezing alleyway under the dim glow of the streetlights, Sunghoon spoke, his voice low but carrying an eerie weight that instantly quieted the surrounding officers.
"He wasn't killed here."
The nearby cops turned to him, blinking in surprise. The night was pitch black and freezing, the shadows swallowing up the gravel road despite their flashlights, yet this young investigator had figured it out in a matter of seconds.
"Check the security cameras immediately," Sunghoon ordered smoothly, turning his piercing gaze toward his subordinates. "There's one by the diner a two-minute walk from here, and another on the private building across the street. Pull the footage." The officers scrambled to obey his command. Sunghoon looked back at the body. "And get him to forensics for an autopsy. Fingerprints?"
"None, Senior Inspector," a cop replied nervously.
"Murder weapon?"
"Nothing left behind."
"Skin DNA under the victim's nails?"
"They've been neatly clipped, sir."
Sunghoon huffed a cold laugh under his breath, turning on his heel. "Let the medical examiner handle the rest."
He hated this. He absolutely despised it when a killer executed a job flawlessly, but he hated being stuck even more. Over the last two years, Sunghoon's career had skyrocketed so fast he outranked veterans who had been in the force for decades. But this 'devil' was actively bruising his ego. How could there be zero clues? Was this a professional hitman? Amateurs didn't pull off jobs this cleanly.
When Sunghoon walked back into the precinct, his face was a mask of pure indifference, ignoring the irritated glares of the night-shift officers. They envied him, plain and simple. Hated him because he was too perfect, too successful, too quickly.
"Senior Inspector," Heeseung, a young trainee, poked his head through the glass door of the main office. "The Captain is waiting for you in his office."
Sunghoon shifted his direction without a word.
Stepping into the office, Captain Jake looked like he was about to combust. His face was bright red, practically fumes coming out of his ears despite it being three o'clock in the morning. This damn killer was keeping the entire city awake.
"Sit," Jake commanded. Sunghoon nodded curtly, dropping into the chair opposite him. "This can't go on. We're pulling the public broadcast for witnesses."
Sunghoon's brows shot up. "Captain? I know we're hitting a wall, but if we pull the notice, we lose our only lead. Public tips are all we have right now." He honestly couldn't fathom what was causing such a drastic, panicked pivot.
"We have a bigger problem, Sunghoon," Jake said, his voice dropping into a deadly serious register. "The data regarding the third victim's sealed history... it was restricted. The fact that the killer knew about it means we have a leak. If the public finds out, the media will have a field day saying the police department is complicit."
"I know the optics are bad," Sunghoon countered, teeth gritting as he pushed the boundary of how he should talk to his superior. "But we need to look at the bigger picture. I'm not saying we should pity these victims, they're murderers, but our priority should be concealing the identities of the dead so the public doesn't side with the killer." He laid out his argument in one breathless rush, his eyes fixed in that characteristic, terrifyingly steady stare.
That was his biggest habit. When he got like this, his eyes didn't track, his voice went totally flat, and it felt like he was speaking straight into a void. It was why people hated being alone in a room with Park Sunghoon. He was the unfeeling cop who didn't show emotion. People said the job made him that way, but honestly? He had always been a bit of a monster.
"The killer's goal is obvious," Sunghoon continued coldly. "They don't just want to eliminate scum; they want adoration. They want the citizens to paint them as a hero. If this goes public, we'll have riots defending a vigilante."
"That's not the issue here, Sunghoon," Jake interrupted heavily, leaning forward. "The issue is that the restricted files were only accessed by five people."
Sunghoon paused, his hand reaching out to grab his tea mug. A slow, chilling smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, a rare sight that made both Jake and the chief in the corner tense. "Commissioner Heeseung, Chief Jake, Captain Jay, Inspector Jungwon.. Oh... and you, Senior Inspector Park."
Sunghoon actually let out a soft laugh. It was the first time they had ever heard him chuckle in an interrogation setting, and it was entirely out of place. He took a slow sip of the hot tea, then casually opened his hand.
The ceramic mug shattered against the floor with a loud, violent crack, hot liquid splashing across the tiles. The pieces lay scattered and broken, entirely beyond repair, something you just had to sweep into the trash and replace. Sunghoon looked down at the mess, mapping the ruined cup to his current situation. His trust in this room had just shattered the exact same way.
"So?" Sunghoon raised his icy gaze from the broken ceramic, locking eyes with his boss. "Am I a suspect now?"
"You're the only one who climbed from the very bottom to Senior Inspector in under two years," Jake pointed out, using his clean record as a weapon. "Out of the five of us, you've been here the shortest time."
"My success is a result of flawless skill, Captain. Longevity on the force doesn't make me a murderer," Sunghoon shot back smoothly. He didn't bother quoting regulations or citing his rights; he preferred to just sit back and watch them squirm trying to build a case against him. "Am I right to assume that, besides these lovely compliments about my career, you have zero actual evidence?"
Jake's face flushed deep red with anger, his fists clenching on the desk. "You're suspended from the investigation until we clear the digital logs. Leave your badge, handcuffs, ammunition, and service weapon on the desk. Along with your workstation password."
Sunghoon didn't hesitate. He pulled his police credentials from the inner pocket of his black uniform jacket and slid them across the wood. "My weapon is at my apartment. I wasn't on an active patrol assignment tonight."
"We expect it on this desk by eight AM sharp," Jake barked.
Sunghoon simply stood up and walked out. His chest felt entirely hollow, a void where the anger and unfairness should be. His career wasn't over, the best cops always faced a setup at some point. His father had gone through the exact same thing when he was framed for a tactical explosion, and he had proven his innocence. This wasn't the end. But inside that hollow chest, a dark, sharp hatred for this 'devil' began to take root.
Sunghoon was certain you had compromised one of the other four computers. You seemed to think you were untouchable. Fine, Sunghoon thought, his jaw clenching as he walked out into the chilly night. I'll catch you myself. And those shiny steel cuffs are going to look beautiful on your wrists.
The moment Sunghoon unlocked the door to his spacious apartment, he froze right on the threshold. The gray welcome mat was sitting at an odd angle, shifted an inch to the left.
As a textbook perfectionist, Sunghoon kept his life entirely orderly. He put things back exactly where they belonged, a habit that made him a brilliant cop and a tedious roommate. The moved rug meant someone had been here. Or worse, you were still inside.
Giving no indication that he had noticed the intrusion, he walked calmly over to the coat closet, slipping his hand inside to quietly retrieve his secondary service pistol. It wasn't loaded, he kept his ammo separated, but a heavy steel barrel was usually enough to terrify an amateur thief.
He slipped through the kitchen. Empty. He crept toward the living room.
The lights were off, the space only illuminated by the pale moonlight cutting through the wide-open windows, making the white sheer curtains dance in the freezing night wind. Sitting casually in the leather armchair in the corner was a figure dressed entirely in black, a heavy oversized hoodie, a leather jacket, dark cargo pants, and heavy-soled combat boots.
Sunghoon raised the pistol, aiming it directly at your head. But as his eyes adjusted, his heart did a strange, violent flip. The skin exposed under the hood was shockingly pale, almost translucent, but it was your eyes that made Sunghoon's breath hitch. They were filled with an indifference so heavy, so mocking, it mirrored his own. A dark, shared mirror image.
"Well, hello there, Park Sunghoon," you murmured from the shadows. Your voice was low, smooth, and laced with a rich, velvety amusement. "Can I just call you Mister Officer? Because 'Senior Inspector Park' is a bit of a mouthful, don't you think?"
Sunghoon's grip tightened on the grip of his gun. He wanted to swear, wanted to rip the smirk right off your face, but he kept his voice deadpan. "Who the hell are you?"
"Did you like my little gift?" you asked instead, completely ignoring his question as a soft, teasing chuckle escaped your lips. "Though, I suppose you haven't seen the best part yet. Don't worry, you'll absolutely love it when you go to hand over your gear at eight AM."
A cold dread pooled in Sunghoon's stomach. You know about the precinct. You know about the suspension. "What did you do?" he demanded, steps turning lethal. "Don't play games with me, sweetheart. You're out of your depth. Do you know Article 139? Illegal trespassing against the will of the resident. I can legally put a bullet in you right now."
"Oh, Mister Officer," you sighed, your tone dripping with mock pity as you tilted your head. "Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet. And here I thought you were the brilliant, untouchable Senior Inspector Sunghoon. Honestly, from where I'm sitting? You're not as observant as they say."
You leaned forward, the moonlight catching the sharp line of your jaw. "I've been in this apartment at least three times this week. And you never noticed a thing. I got tired of being a ghost, so I finally moved the rug tonight."
Sunghoon's eyes narrowed, his aim steadying right between your eyes to break your confidence. But you didn't even flinch.
"Can you lower the arm already? We both know the clip is empty," you smirked, a wicked, devilish little expression that made you look entirely dangerous. "You know that old joke, right? Hoodlums become cops, and the straight-A students become killers... looks like we broke the mold, Hoonie."
"Surrender now," Sunghoon countered, lowering the gun slightly since you had already called his bluff. "You play nice, and the prosecutor might offer a plea deal."
"Oh, skipping straight to the legal jargon? Disappointing... I wanted to talk," you whined playfully, running a finger along the leather armrest. "But fine, let's play your game. What's my verdict if you take me in? Article 105, part 2 first-degree murder of two or more individuals committed with extreme cruelty. Punishment ranges from twenty years to life imprisonment, or... the death penalty."
"If you have a documented psychological evaluation, they might mitigate it," Sunghoon stated, his professional composure masking the storm inside.
"Here's my counter-offer," you purred, standing up slowly, your dark clothes shifting around your slight frame. "Become my partner. Help me take down the real filth in this city. Or, you can play the dirty cop that the entire country learns to despise. Choice is yours, Mister Officer."
Sunghoon felt his composure fraying. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You really haven't connected the dots?" You laughed, a rich, dark sound. "I'm framing you if you say no. There's a little file sitting on your precinct computer right now... and by morning, you'll be the one facing that life sentence."
Sunghoon stared at you. You were smart. Infuriatingly so. "What did you put on my drive?"
"Oh, look at that, the Cold Monster is sweating," you teased, taking a step closer into the moonlight. "The golden boy, the high school valedictorian, the teacher's pet... who lost his mind one afternoon and nearly beat his classmate to death in the hallway. I uploaded the old security footage of that little incident straight to your active terminal. Want to guess when? The day of the first murder, while you were tucked away sleeping sweet in your bed, I was right here... uploading away. And that's just a fraction of my gift. Your colleagues are probably watching it right now."
"You psycho bitch," Sunghoon hissed, his breathing rattling in his chest. To suppress the exploding anger, he began pressing his thumbs firmly against his fingers—his standard grounding exercise to curb his temper.
"And for the grand finale..." You suddenly pulled a sleek black handgun from your waistband, pointing it dead at his chest. The playful tone vanished, replaced by an icy, absolute stillness that sent a shockwave through the room. "I'm going to leave a few drops of your blood at the next crime scene. You have exactly one minute to give me your answer."
Sunghoon's entire body went rigid under the barrel of the gun. "Go to hell."
"Wrong answer," you whispered, your voice sending a chill down his spine. "Thirty seconds..."
Sunghoon locked eyes with you, his jaw clenching until it ached. He was a cop. He was his father's son. "I'd rather die a clean cop than live as a dirty killer. I will catch you, and I will make sure you spend the rest of your life in a dark cage where the sun never shines."
You paused, your expression softening into something strangely nostalgic. "Still believing in justice? You really haven't changed, Sunghoon." You lowered the weapon slightly, looking at him with a gaze that felt entirely too heavy, triggering an intuition in Sunghoon's chest that he couldn't ignore. "Do you remember a promise you made to a little kid a long time ago? You said you wanted to be a cool cop, just like your dad."
Sunghoon's breath hitched. "What?"
"And that kid told you you'd become a criminal to punish the bad guys instead..." A slow, genuine smile spread across your lips, your eyes widening slightly as you watched Sunghoon's face completely drop in shock.
No. It couldn't be.
"You told me: 'Then I'll just have to catch you and put you in jail myself.'" You gave a soft, breathless laugh, backing up toward the open window ledge. "Hey, Mister Officer... why am I still walking free? I've broken so many laws. Come catch me already."
Before Sunghoon could even process the words, you spun around and dropped out of the second-story window.
"Wait!" Sunghoon sprinted to the ledge, throwing himself over the frame. Down on the pavement below, you stood under the dim street lamp, your pale face looking up at him through the dark strands of your hair.
"I'll find you," Sunghoon yelled into the dark, his voice shaking with an emotion he hadn't felt in a decade. "You can't hide in the shadows forever. I will find you."
The bright orange jumpsuit was an absolute insult to his skin tone, and the cheap metal handcuffs chafing his wrists felt like a joke.
Sunghoon sat in the grim, freezing visitor's booth of the holding facility, his eyes dark with exhaustion. He had spent two days in this filthy cell, surrounded by criminals who looked at him like he was a fallen king. He hadn't said a word to defense counsel or internal affairs. He refused to make excuses. He believed the truth would come out, but he never expected you to be the one to orchestrate it.
"They look good on you," a voice echoed through the metal speaker grill.
Sunghoon looked up. You were sitting on the other side of the thick plexiglass window, your small face partially hidden under the hood of a heavy black jacket. You were looking at his cuffed hands with a completely blank expression. "Honestly, I think you should wear them permanently."
"They'd look better on you," Sunghoon replied smoothly, his tone matching your flat delivery, though his eyes tracked every tiny movement of your shoulders.
"Then come try to put them on me," you whispered, a crooked, dark little smile pulling at your pink lips. "Let's see if you're fast enough."
"Why are you here, Y/N?"
"You look like you're adjusting well. Ready to head back to your cell?" you mocked, leaning closer to the glass, your small hands folding together on the counter. "If you're ready to throw in the towel, don't worry. I'm here to give you a second chance."
"I gave you my answer two days ago in my apartment," Sunghoon said, leaning forward until his chest pressed against the table barrier. "Nothing has changed. Nothing will change."
"It's your call, Hoonie. I can either pull off another murder tonight to clear your name, or I can drop another little digital breadcrumb that keeps you locked in here until you're gray. What's the play, Mister Officer?"
A quiet, taunting chuckle vibrated through the speaker, and Sunghoon felt his blood turn to absolute fire. The absolute arrogance of you.
"You brat," he hissed, his eyes flashing with a dangerous heat.
"Tick-tock, Sunghoon..." you teased, your teeth coming down to anxiously bite at your bottom lip, your eyes darting away for a split second. "Five... four... three... two..."
"Damn it, Y/N!"
"Ugh, you're so boring!" you whined, tossing your head back with an exasperated sigh.
Sunghoon's eyes dropped, tracing the sharp, pale line of your jawline exposed by the movement, moving down to the smooth skin of your neck where a small dark mole sat right near your collarbone. A sudden, totally inappropriate thought flared in his chest, he wanted to rip that hood off your head, pin you down in the daylight, and see exactly what you looked like when you weren't hiding behind a criminal persona. He swallowed hard, his heart slamming against his ribs so loudly he was terrified you could hear it through the glass.
"I can stay in this cell as long as it takes for the truth to come out," Sunghoon said, forcing his voice into a steady, calm rhythm. "But I'll consider your little partnership under one condition. Why are you doing this? What's your actual motive, Y/N?"
The playful demeanor vanished instantly. Your face went dead serious, the muscles in your neck tightening as you glared through the plexiglass. The coldness radiating from you was so intense Sunghoon almost wanted to take the question back. But he didn't. He had learned to master his emotions after that high school fight; he wasn't going to let a girl from his past unhinge him now.
"Your choice, Y/N," he pressed. "Give me the truth. If you lie to me, you're dead to me."
"Using my own tactics against me?" you muttered, the smirk slowly returning to your face, though it didn't reach your eyes. "Aren't you worried you'll cut yourself playing with sharp toys?"
You stood up, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. Before signaling the guard to let you out of the visitation room, you leaned toward the speaker one last time. "You made your choice, Mister Officer. I'll give you another little present tonight."
Sunghoon watched you walk away. If he wanted to, he could have flagged the guards right then, given them your description, and ended this. But he didn't. He told himself he was just waiting for the perfect moment to catch you red-handed. The golden boy cop wouldn't let a serial killer roam free. But inside, he kept flashing back to that five year old girl on the orphanage playground.
He remembered the day he had approached you. You were sitting alone on a wooden bench, looking small and miserable. Sunghoon had slid over, pulling a green-wrapped piece of hard candy from his pocket and thrusting it toward you.
"My mom told me not to take candy from strangers," you had mumbled, your nose red as you stared at the sweet.
"Well, my mom told me to always share with kids who look lonely," eight year old Sunghoon had declared proudly. "I'm Park Sunghoon. What's your name?"
"Y/N," you whispered.
"That's a pretty name. Now we aren't strangers anymore, right?"
They had played until sundown. When Sunghoon's mother called him back, you had looked so small returning to the orphanage line. The next day, you showed up with a nasty bruise under your left eye but a huge smile on your face.
"Bad kids need to be punished," Sunghoon had told you, balling his little fists. "When I grow up, I'm going to beat them up for you."
"When I grow up, I'm going to be a hero!" you had cheered.
"Heroes are only in cartoons," Sunghoon scoffed with all the wisdom of an eight-year-old. "I'm going to be a cool cop like my dad."
"Then I'll be a criminal who punishes the bad guys!" you had laughed, your eyes sparkling.
And you had kept those promises. Every single one of them.
Sunghoon stepped out of the precinct doors, inhaling a massive gulp of the crisp night air to flush out the stale, metallic smell of the holding cells.
It was over. Or at least, his detention was. The guards had abruptly opened his cell door that morning, announcing that another corrupt politician had been found executed across town with the exact same signature. Since Sunghoon was locked in a maximum-security cell at the time of death, internal affairs had no choice but to drop the charges and release him, though his suspension remained active.
Murder number four. You had kept your word.
He called a cab, desperately needing a shower. Reaching his apartment, he stripped off his clothes, tossing them straight into the trash can. He didn't want a single trace of that jail cell near him. He stepped under the scalding spray of the shower, tilting his head back as the water washed over his tired muscles. He just wanted to sleep in his own massive, comfortable bed. He was too exhausted to think about the beautiful little devil who had cleared his name.
He fell into bed damp, sleeping heavily for hours until the violent rumbling of his stomach woke him up near midnight. Realizing his fridge was completely bare, he threw on a black leather jacket over his sweatpants and jogged down to the 24-hour market, grabbing a bag of basic groceries.
But when he reached his front door, his hand paused on the knob. The apartment was dead silent, and the hallway lights didn't spill into the crack beneath the door. The lights are off. He distinctly remembered leaving the kitchen light on.
He quietly dropped the grocery bag onto the carpeted hallway and slipped into the dark apartment, his vision adapting to the shadows. There was only one person who would break into his home like this.
The moment he crossed into his bedroom, a fist swung out of the darkness, aiming straight for his jaw.
Sunghoon ducked by pure reflex, his shoulder colliding with yours as he threw a counter-punch. You blocked it efficiently, grabbing his wrist and twisting, using his own momentum to slam his back flat against the bedroom wall.
The moonlight poured through the open curtains, illuminating your face perfectly. Your dark hair was messy, your pale cheeks flushed from the exertion, your full lips curved into that signature, infuriating smirk.
"Hey there, Mister Officer," he heard your deep, velvet voice closer than it had ever been. "Did you like my little release present? Consider it payback for the candy."
"You little menace," Sunghoon growled. He shoved you back, his left arm swinging out to pin you, but before his hand could lock onto your shoulder, a sharp click echoed through the room.
A cold weight wrapped around his right wrist.
Sunghoon looked down in horror. You had slapped a heavy pair of police-issue steel handcuffs onto his wrist, and with a lightning-fast jerk of your arm, he snapped the matching cuff around your own left wrist.
"What the hell did you do?" Sunghoon roared, grabbing the front of your leather jacket and violently shoving you back against the wall, his knee driving into your stomach to lock you down.
You gasped as your back hit the drywall, but instead of fighting, a loud, breathless laugh burst out of you. You looked up at his vicious, flushed face, completely unbothered by the hand tightening around your collar.
"Oh god, Sunghoon," you giggled, your eyes sparkling in the dark. "I stole those straight from your Captain's desk. Don't look at me like that. I don't have the key. We either figure this out together, or you're stuck with a serial killer permanently."
"Where is the key, Y/N? I swear to god.."
"I told you, I don't have it," you whined, your playful demeanor returning as your hips shifted slightly against his thigh. "Besides, would you really rather be a clean cop than stay right here with me? Don't be mean, Hoonie."
"Shut up!" Sunghoon squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the feel of your body pinned against his. "Don't play with me."
"Why? Afraid you'll lose control again? Just like you did in high school when that boy called your dad a fraud?"
"I said, shut up!"
The tension snapped. Sunghoon threw his weight forward, tackling you onto the mattress of his bed. The sudden movement sent you rolling, your cuffed wrists clashing painfully between you. Because Sunghoon was right-handed and you were left-handed, your free arms were completely unhindered, turning the struggle into a tangled, breathless brawl on the sheets.
Within seconds, Sunghoon used his size to dominate your position. He pinned your arms over your head, his heavy thighs locking your legs down, his right knee settling heavily directly between your thighs to stop you from squirming away.
He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his cold facade completely fracturing. "Tell me the truth. Why them? What is your actual motive?"
You bit your lip, your eyes darting toward the window as you tried to twist your hips out from under his knee. But Sunghoon didn't budge. He pressed down firmer, anchoring you to the mattress. "Speak."
You let out a frustrated groan, your cheeks turning a bright, unmistakable crimson under his intense gaze.
"I'm asking you for the last time, Y/N. What is your motive?"
You stopped struggling entirely, your chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow hitches. You closed your eyes tight, a quiet, embarrassed whine escaping your throat as you bit down on your lower lip so hard it turned white.
Sunghoon froze. The sudden shift in your behavior caught him completely off guard. You weren't fighting anymore. You were trembling. And that's when he realized the positioning. His right knee was pressed firmly between your thighs, and every time you had tried to pull away, you had accidentally ground yourself right against his leg.
A sudden, dark wave of realization hit Sunghoon's chest. The dangerous, untouchable killer was completely flushed, your eyes glassy, your breath hitching every time his weight shifted.
A slow, wicked smirk tugged at Sunghoon's lips. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, intentionally shifting his knee just a fraction of an inch to emphasize the friction.
"You're... you're making a mistake," you whispered, your voice cracking as you kept your face turned away, trying to hide the dark blush spreading down your neck.
"Am I? Or are you the one making a mistake by keeping your mouth shut?" Sunghoon teased, leaning down until his breath brushed your ear. "Last chance, Y/N. Why do you kill them?"
You let out a sharp, ragged breath, your fingers curling into the bedsheets. The overwhelming heat in the room was making your head spin, you melting under the physical dominance of the man hovering over you. You unconsciously arched your hips upward, seeking the pressure, before a soft, broken whisper escaped your lips.
"Hoonie... please... move..."
Sunghoon’s heart stopped. Hearing that soft, desperate nickname completely shattered his remaining self control. It was too hot. Too close. But he didn't move an inch. "Tell me the truth first."
"They killed them," you whined, a tear finally slipping down your cheek as you abandoned all your games. "My parents... they were murdered right in front of me when I was five. I remember their faces, Sunghoon. I remember every single detail. But I didn't know their names. I needed you... I needed a cop's credentials to get into the federal database to track them down. Damn it, Sunghoon, stop moving!"
You gasped as Sunghoon's knee shifted again, but before you could finish your sentence, Sunghoon leaned down and slammed his lips against yours.
The kiss was rough, chaotic, born out of a decade of unresolved tension and sheer adrenaline. You didn't fight it. You let out a muffled moan into his mouth, your free hand coming up to lock behind his neck, pulling him down harder as your lips parted for him. Sunghoon groaned, his cuffed hand tangled with yours on the pillow as he kissed you deeply, his free hand sliding down your waist to aggressively pull your hips up against his leg.
The room faded into an absolute blur of heat and friction. Sunghoon's hands became frantic, pulling at the buckle of your pants, helping you kick them free along with your underwear. He didn't care about his badge, didn't care about the law, right now, you were just his Y/N, the messy, dangerous girl who had consumed his thoughts for years.
He moved his mouth down to your exposed collarbone, biting down softly, leaving dark, crimson marks over your pale skin while his hand slid between your legs. You arched violently off the bed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved his fingers in a steady, perfect rhythm. The low, guttural moans coming from your throat drove him completely insane. You pushed back against his hand, your breathing turning into ragged pants until, with one final, melodious cry, your body went completely rigid, trembling as you came right against his hand.
For several long minutes, the only sound in the bedroom was the ragged synchronization of your breathing.
Sunghoon lay partially over you, his forehead resting against your shoulder as the adrenaline slowly ebbed out of your veins. The reality of what you had just done settled into the quiet space. Neither of you looked at each other.
You reached out with your free hand, clumsily grabbing a tissue from the nightstand. Without a word, you cleaned yourself up, pulling your pants back into place before pulling out a second tissue. You gently took Sunghoon's hand, your fingers surprisingly soft as you carefully wiped his fingers clean.
Sunghoon swallowed heavily, his throat dry as he finally turned his head to look at you.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, tossing the tissue onto the floor. You looked down at the steel cuffs still binding you together.
Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, ready to tell you that you would find a way to handle your past legally, that he would help you, but before the words could leave his tongue, your expression shifted.
The soft, vulnerable girl vanished. In a split second, your arms shot up, your small hands locking around Sunghoon's throat with a terrifying, precise grip, pinning him to the pillow beneath you.
A cold, wicked grin spread across your lips.
"You never really knew the real me, Hoonie," you whispered, your eyes flashing with that familiar, dangerous fire. "You're the golden boy investigator, and I'm the monster who purges this city. The game isn't over."
Sunghoon reached up to break your grip, but his muscles felt entirely heavy, his vision starting to blur from the pressure on his carotid artery.
"Hey, Park Sunghoon..." your voice echoed, fading as the darkness crept into the edges of his sight. "Why am I still free? Come catch me already."
The world went pitch black.
When Sunghoon’s eyes snapped open, the morning sun was blindingly bright, pouring through the bedroom window. He gasped, sitting up quickly, his hand instantly flying to his throat. It was sore, but he could breathe perfectly.
He looked down at his right wrist. The handcuffs were gone, sitting open on the nightstand beside a small metal key.
Sunghoon rubbed his face, a breathy, disbelief-filled laugh escaping his lips. He rolled out of bed and walked over to the vanity mirror. Pulling his shirt collar down, he stared at the vibrant, crimson bite mark sitting perfectly on the side of his neck.
A morning gift.
He touched the mark, his expression hardening back into that icy, determined mask. A slow smirk tugged at his lips as he looked out the open window.
"I'll find you…" he whispered into the empty room. "You can't hide in the dark forever. And next time, I'm keeping the keys."
