The Feminine Urge To Create Another Tumblr Blog(s) For An Oddly Specific Niche Interest

the feminine urge to create another tumblr blog(s) for an oddly specific niche interest

What the literal FUCK.

that is a CHILD.

Why do you bitches think this behavior is okay!?

"Can't wait for kitty kang" user picklesthefrog0o you're a PEDOPHILE

All of you weird bitches are PEDOPHILES.

Stop this shit, NOW. It should've never even started.

payment. jeong yunho au

⭑ summary: you come across a strange customer one night who is quick to reveal his true nature to you. later on, however, you find out just how cruel his intentions really are.

or, in which a terrifying run in with a customer one night leads to your own demise.

⭑ pairing: jeong yunho x female!reader

⭑ warnings/tags: cursing, mentions of murder, killer!yunho, character death, mentions of/brief descriptions of blood, use of nicknames (“baby”, “doll”, “love”)

⭑ notes: this has been proofread and edited a few times, but there may be some errors that i didn’t catch 🙂‍↕️ yunho’s been on the brain as of late so i had to write something for him and it ended up being murder related how comical. hope you guys enjoy and feel free to leave your thoughts! x

YOU’RE SO CAUGHT up in how shiny his eyes look under the fluorescent lights that you don’t notice how bloody his hands are.

it’s not until he reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and places a twenty dollar bill on the counter that you see how much his hands are stained red. you feel yourself freeze up a little, hesitation evident in the way that your fingers retract a little. if he notices your sudden change in behavior, he doesn’t say anything about it. instead, he slides his items—ramen, a bottle of strawberry soju, and a pack of cigarettes—across the counter towards him and gives you a smile before he walks over to the vacant table in the corner.

you blink a couple of times and shake your head a little before you grab the twenty dollar bill and put it in the register. you owe him change—twelve dollars and twenty five cents to be exact—but you don’t feel like telling him. you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that his hands are a bloody mess and he didn’t seem to mind it in the slightest.

you turn your attention back to your phone. maybe you’re seeing things. it’s after eleven at night and you didn’t get much sleep the night before or before you started your shift. it’s possible that all of that is starting to catch up to you, right?

right.

you glance over at him. only this time, it’s not his hands that catch your attention; it’s his face. and his shirt. and his arms. there isn’t a single part of him that’s not covered in dried blood. panic starts to creep in and you’re left feeling frozen once more. you want to look away from him, but you can’t. it’s like your eyes are practically glued to him.

you watch as he slurps up a mouthful of ramen and lets out a satisfied groan before he opens the bottle of soju. his long, slender blood stained fingers wrap around the bottle and he brings it to his lips to take a few gulps. there’s a bit of a pause before he places the bottle back down and lets out a sigh. he turns his head a little and looks around before his eyes land on you.

your eyes widen and you gasp as he smiles at you again. he parts his lips to say something, but you never get to hear it. a blank expression takes over his features instead, his smile almost immediately disappearing. the air suddenly feels thick and you can feel your heartbeat start to pick up.

you’ve never felt this feeling before.

in the eight months since you’ve started working at the convenience store, things have been okay for the most part. sometimes you had to deal with customers that had a little too much to drink and the occasional person who did a terrible job at hitting on you. you’ve also had your fair share of run ins with odd, if not mildly suspicious, customers, but nothing enough to elicit what you are currently feeling.

fear.

pure, genuine fear.

you try to run down a list of options in your head, but you can’t seem to focus. your heart feels like it’s pounding out of your chest and you can feel your hands start to tremble. the training your boss had given you months ago seems pointless now and you almost wish that the man staring you down was a robber instead. you’d have a much better chance at handling that than whatever this is.

as if something up above had heard you, your phone starts to buzz. you look at the phone screen then at him. he tilts his head to the side, a few strands of his dark hair moving as he does so. he squints his eyes and gives you a look that says i dare you. you grip your phone tightly in your hand and gulp.

fuck, you think to yourself. fuck, fuck, fuck.

you stare at each other as your phone continues to buzz before it stops. you secretly hope that it’ll ring again, but it doesn’t. you start to become acutely aware of how silent the store is now, save for some music playing softly in the background, and you hate it. you also hate how he’s still staring at you with that blank expression on his face.

he says something then, but you don’t catch it. the thoughts in your head are so loud that you can’t seem to hear anything else.

you wet your lips before stammering out a high pitched, “w–what?”

“i said,” he begins to say with an exasperated sigh, “where do you keep your computer? i need to access the cameras.”

“the cameras?” you repeat in the same high pitched tone.

“the cameras?” he says mockingly. “yes, the fucking cameras. jesus, you pretty girls really are fucking stupid.”

his comment leaves you stunned and your mouth falls open a little.

“i— what—”

“look, just tell me where the fucking computer is, okay? you can drool and masturbate over what i said later.”

“excuse me? i don’t— what?”

“you heard me. now, where’s the fucking computer?” he demands.

equally scared and taken aback by his crude comments, you point towards the door a few feet away from him and say, “it’s in there. the c–computer is in there.”

he grins at you as he comes to a standing position and it’s then that you realize how tall he is. without saying another word, he takes a few steps over to the door and pulls on the handle. you hear him mutter something about being stupid before he disappears into the office. once he’s out of sight, you let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you’ve been holding.

you take a couple of deep breaths before unlocking your phone and immediately dialing 119. you’re about to hit the call button, but you hesitate. you know that this is the right thing to do, but why doesn’t it feel that way?

you take a quick glance at the door. you don’t know how much time you have left, but it can’t be that much. all you have to do is hit the green button and tell the operator to send someone. that’s it. the whole thing shouldn’t take any longer than a minute or so. and yet, as you stare at the door and hover your finger over the screen, you can’t help but feel like you’re doing something wrong.

you’ve never been in this kind of situation before.

ever.

you think back to all of the times you’ve seen this exact scenario play out in movies and tv shows. the amount of times you’ve screamed at characters for saying or doing something stupid and ranting about what you’d do instead. but what you failed to realize back then is that all of it was fiction.

and this? this is real life.

and in real life, you don’t have time to sit around and wait for something to happen. it’s either do or die.

“fuck. okay,” you utter to yourself. “i got this. i can do this.”

with a sudden rush of determination, you unlock your phone again. this time, without any hesitation, you press the call button. you almost sigh in relief when you hear the operator on the other end pick up after a few rings and ask, “emergency services. what is your emergency?”

but as you open your mouth to speak, you hear the door open and suddenly the fear is creeping back in and your body is tensing up. you can hear the operator saying hello? and repeating what’s your emergency? over and over again. you don’t say anything as he slowly closes the door and cocks his head at you.

he knows.

you’re so caught up in the moment that you almost don’t hear him when he says, “do it.”

“do what?”

“don’t play coy with me. there’s a reason why you them called, right? so do it. tell them.”

you take note of the nonchalant tone in his voice. he seems unfazed, almost as if he doesn’t care about the fact that you’re a few words away from getting him arrested. the sound of the operator muttering a curse word and sighing breaks your thoughts.

“look, miss, is something wrong? or is this a prank call?” she asks. you can hear the annoyance in her voice and you know that if you don’t answer her, you might lose your only chance at getting help.

“yes, i…” you trail off.

you watch as he leans against the table and folds his arms across his chest, a smug look growing on his face. then he waits. he waits for you to say something, anything to the operator.

his words start to ring in your ears.

do it.

tell them.

tell them.

tell them.

“i’m sorry.” you finally say. you hear the woman on the other end let out a frustrated sigh as you continue. “i didn’t mean to call you guys. it was a dare. from a friend.”

you hang up before she can say anything else. he looks at you for a while longer, eyes roaming over your face and body, before he unfolds his arms and starts to clap slowly. he’s grinning so hard at you that you that it makes an all too familiar feeling start to stir in the pit of your stomach again.

“well done, baby,” he says. “maybe you aren’t so stupid after all, huh? or, well… well, maybe you are. i mean, shit, you practically made me get away with murder just now.”

your breath hitches in your throat.

murder?

“what do you— what do you mean that i let you get away with murder?” you ask timidly.

“oh, baby. don’t tell me that you saw all of this and thought that it was paint or something. no, see this,” he makes a sweeping gesture at himself, “is from the piece of shit that i killed half an hour ago. i always forget how messy murdering someone can be.”

“you killed someone?” you stammer out in disbelief.

he smiles. “of course i did.”

of course he did.

as the crushing realization starts to set in, you can’t help but start to wonder if you’re next. the thought is enough to make your chest start to feel heavy and your breathing start to speed up. you were next. you have to be. there’s no way that he’s going to let you go. not after he caught you calling the police on him and made you aware of his crime.

“woah, slow down there, baby. it looks like you’re about to have a panic attack and i can’t have you dying on me now. well… unless it’s because of me, of course.” he jokes.

you blanch at his words, barely able to register the fact that he’s joking.

when he sees the look on your face, he adds, “oh my god, relax. it’s a fucking joke. god, you should see your face right now.”

and then he laughs.

he laughs so hard and loud that it’s almost deafening.

“a joke?” you mumble out.

“yes, love. a joke. what, did you really think that i was going to kill you?”

“yes. i tried to call the police on you and i know about what you did.”

“and yet, you didn’t say or do anything about it, now did you? besides, i couldn’t kill a pretty doll like you. it’d haunt me in my sleep way too much.”

his words catch you off guard again, just like they did earlier. you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion. why did he say that? and why is he acting so nonchalant about everything? does he think that this—

“…anyways, i think that i should go now, but it was nice spending some time with you, baby,” he says with a wink.

you watch as he barely turns around to down the rest of his drink before he tosses the bottle and ramen container in the bin next to him. he swipes the carton of cigarettes off of the table and shoves them in his back pocket before he turns towards you again.

“you know what, maybe i should come back here again. have a little more fun with you, you know?” the comment comes out in a suggestive manner and it makes your stomach churn. you ignore it, though and instead focus on him leaving.

as he walks past the counter, you catch a whiff of his scent. it’s an odd mix of his cologne and the irony scent of blood and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

when he finally reaches the glass doors, he stops. you inhale sharply, half expecting him to turn around and say that he’s changed his mind and he’s going to leave you dead in the dumpster. instead, all he says is,

“you can keep the change by the way.”

you hear him say something else, but before you can muster up a response, he’s already out the door. you stand there for what feels like an eternity, your mind struggling to process everything’s that happened. you move on autopilot for the rest of your shift. thankfully, no other customers come in for the rest of the night. there’s no way that you’d be able to handle anymore interactions tonight.

when you go home an hour later, you make a beeline towards your bathroom. you quickly strip off your clothes and step inside of the shower. you don’t wait for the water to warm up like you usually do. instead, you let the cold water run down your body and watch it run down the drain. your mind and body haven’t stopped buzzing ever since he left. the level of fear that he made you feel was different. you’ve never felt anything like it before and you don’t want to feel it again.

fifteen minutes later, you’re out of the shower and in your bedroom. the cool air of your air conditioner hits your exposed skin and makes you shiver. you move quickly, lotioning your entire body and throwing on some pajamas before slipping into bed. but just as your about to lay down and settle in for the night, a sudden loud knock at your door stops you.

you glance at the time on your phone.

1:03 AM.

who could possibly be at your door at this hour?

you mutter out a string of curse words as you slide out of bed and start walking towards the front door. i can’t even fucking sleep in peace, you think to yourself bitterly.

when you finally reach the door, you lean in and stare into the peephole. all you see is wet, dark hair staring back at you and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re staring at the back of someone’s head.

“um, hello? can i help you…?” you call out.

there’s a weird sinking feeling in your stomach as you watch the person turn around and when you see a familiar set of eyes looking back at you, your blood runs cold.

“hey, baby. open up the door for me, please.”

your breath hitches.

he’s not supposed to be here.

how did he—

“i know that you’re in there, doll. i can hear you breathing and shit.”

no.

“don’t make me wait all night now. open the door, baby. i’m asking you nicely.”

no, no, no.

“how did you find me? why are you here?” you finally ask, fear evident in your voice.

“i followed you here. you should really pay attention next time, doll. you could seriously get hurt, y’know.” he responds in a casual tone.

he steps closer to your door and peers into your peephole, almost as if he’s trying to look at you. “now can you open the door for me? please?”

“no. i don’t want to.”

“why not? ah! i know what it is. it’s because you don’t know my name, right?”

“what? n–no, it’s—”

“yunho. my name is yunho. and don’t worry about telling me yours, baby. i already know it.”

“how do you—” you begin to ask, but you pause.

“your name tag. don’t tell me that you already forgot about wearing one,” yunho says teasingly. he shakes his head before he continues, “but now that that’s out of the way, can you let me in please?”

“i— no. no, you need to leave. now, yunho.”

you immediately back away from the door, making sure to make as little noise as possible. you wait for his response, but you never get one. instead, you’re met with an eerie silence. you stand there for a minute, holding your breath and waiting to hear even the slightest bit of noise. when you feel like he’s gone, you let out a sigh. you go to turn on your heel, but the sudden sound of numbers being punched into your door’s keypad makes you come to a halt.

you watch in horror as your door opens and you come face to face with yunho. he closes the door behind him before he toes off his boots and places them in the corner right next to yours. he takes a step further, but you immediately take one back. he raises an eyebrow at you and hums then takes another step forward. you take another one back. the two of you go one like this until you end up backing up into your couch and he’s standing right in front of you.

his hand shoots out and you hardly have enough time to stop him from wrapping his fingers around your neck and pressing his body against yours. your hands fly up to push him back, but he catches your wrists in his hand.

“you know, you have a shitty leasing office. it was too easy to get the code to your place,” he begins calmly. “but you made it even easier. the code is your birthday, right?”

your eyes widen at his sudden revelation. this didn’t make any sense. it’s after midnight. nobody in the leasing office is there that late unless he—

“you didn’t...” you say.

“oh, but i did.” he grins. “they should get better security if they don’t want someone breaking into their office.”

“oh my go—” you gasp out, but you get cut off by yunho tightening his grip.

“i don’t know why you’re so shocked to see me, though, doll. i told you that i was coming.”

“n–no you didn’t.”

“yes, i did. right before i left.”

“no. you s–said that i can k–keep the change. that’s it.”

“and? what else did i say afterwards? i know that i called you stupid earlier, but you can use that fucking brain of yours, can’t you?”

almost immediately, your mind goes back to when he was leaving earlier. you remember him walking towards the door and stopping once he got to them. you also remember him telling you to keep the change and that he’d—

when he finally reaches the double doors, he stops. you inhale sharply, half expecting him to turn around and say that he’s changed his mind and he’s going to leave you dead in the dumpsters. instead, all he says is,

“you can keep the change by the way.”

he pauses before he adds, “you’ll be paying me back in another way later.”

your whole body begins to shake and your stomach lurches. there’s a sudden pang in your chest and before you know it, tears are starting to well up in your eyes.

“no,” you shakily breathe out. “no, yunho, please. i’m sorry. please, don’t.”

yunho looks at you with feigned concern as he releases his grip on your wrists and neck. you see this as your opening and try to move past him, but you immediately freeze up when you feel the uncomfortable sharpness of yunho’s knife at the base of your neck.

in one last ditch effort, you lift your hands up and wrap them around his throat. you squeeze as hard as you can and watch as his face breaks out into a smile so unnerving that it makes your skin crawl.

“are you h–having fun playing with m–me, doll?” yunho chokes out. his face is starting to turn red, but he never stops smiling. it’s like he’s enjoying this more than he’s supposed to.

you open your mouth to respond, but a sudden burning sensation in your abdomen stops you. you let out a small gasp and look down. blood is seeping into your shirt and creating a bright red stain in its wake. a wave of dizziness hits as you graze your fingers over the wet material, wetting your fingers with blood in the process.

“yunho…” your voice comes out in a quiver.

“i know that it hurts, doll. i’m sorry.” yunho gently coos, driving the knife even further into your stomach. he shushes you when you let out a pained cry, tears falling down your face. he moves closer and rests his forehead against yours, warm skin a stark contrast to how clammy yours is becoming.

you’re in so much pain that you can barely keep your eyes open let alone hear him over the loud ringing in your ears. you can’t focus. everything is too much. the pain is too much. he inhales deeply before he sighs, warm, minty breath fanning over your nose and lips. you screw your eyes shut as he gently presses a kiss to your forehead before he continues in a sweet, melodic tone almost.

“but it’s my turn to have fun with you now, okay? this is how you have to pay me back and i’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

TXT :: MINISODE 3: TOMORROW CONCEPT TRAILER

i’ll bring mangos and sugar cane from back home and maybe some strawberry wine too :o what are you guys bringing? @goayeos @unique-high @mitchko11 @beingaunicornisnoteasy

would u like to have a picnic :3 i’ll cut fruit :3

yes!!! ill bring all the bread and baked goods !! ^_^

who else is coming ? :D