ᝰ! 📼 !ᝰ

haechan misses you.

he can’t take it anymore. nights spent skin-to-skin with you in his arms, nights spent with your body on top of his as you rolled your hips, nights spent with him panting in your ear as you rode the soul out of him all taken away in one second before he even got the chance to say goodbye.

three whole months have gone by since then and to him, it still feel yesterday. one minute, he was confident he would come home to you waiting for him like you always did, and the next, he got that phone call.

haechan fists his cock as he perches on your grave, jean-clad knees stained with dirt. he doesn’t care. cheap denim jeans are replaceable; you aren’t. he tries to touch himself the way he remembers you doing it, picturing your warm, soft hands and pretty, gem-embedded nails wrapped around his cock.

his eyes flutter closed. you would start slow and steady, looking into his eyes as you pumped him, smiling up at him with your gorgeous, enticingly sweet eyes. haechan moans at the thought. you always knew exactly what what to do to make him lose his mind. only after he got all worked up, tip leaking profusely with precum, would you finally go faster.

haechan speeds up. his eyes snap open for a moment, glancing around to make sure he’s alone. it’s the middle of the night, no one should be around unless, much like him, they’re a freak in violent need of help. sensing no one, he allows himself to close his eyes again and resume the image of you in his head, eagerly jerking him off.

the tip of his heavy, aching cock is sticky with precum that coats the palm of his hand. it covers his whole shaft as he inadvertently smears it everywhere, rapid palm lubricating his cock the way your mouth would. you used to love that about him; he always comes so much.

“fuck,” he groans louder than intended, the very thought making his dick twitch in painful delight, in sweet yearning.

haechan desperately wants to go even quicker, but he forces himself to have some kind of restraint, wanting to do this the way he knows you would if you were still here with him where you belong instead of six feet underground.

at first, it was chilly outside to haechan. but now the cool, crisp air goes unnoticed as the scalding heat burns his sensitive ears down to his flushed cheeks down to his bobbing neck. you would, he remembers, nibble at the flesh behind his ears, kiss his soft cheeks, and suck at the quick, throbbing pulse in the base of his neck.

“calm down, hyuck,” you would tell him, giggling in his ear. god, he loved that sound. he still does. he would give anything to hear it again, one last time.

he sheds the jacket, feeling suffocated by how increasingly hot his body is getting, and tosses it onto the ground. haechan knows he’s close, that’s the only reason he’s making himself be patient. you never wanted to finish him too quickly unless you were impatient yourself. you liked to to draw it out, to make him wait.

it was fair, haechan thinks. he was always so busy, so caught up with work and the like that he rarely had time to spend with you. it was only fair that you made him ache just the way you did when he was gone for days, sometimes weeks on end. 

haechan wishes he would have gone about things differently. had he known his days with you would be numbered, he would have dropped everything to spend every available second with you. he would have never taken time with you for granted.

but he can’t hold back anymore. he needs to come. he needs you, but he knows that this as close as he will ever get to feeling you again. he teeth sink into his bottom lip a little too hard as he releases with a moan of your name followed by curses, shooting ropes of cum onto the nature-weathered stone of your grave and the dirt in front.

haechan breathes for a while, relaxing. he glances around, but still spots no one. then, he glances back at your grave, a heavy pang in his heart. 

until your laptop decides to take it’s last breath one day in the middle of a very hectic school week and you need something in its place until you can get it repaired. stepbro!member’s laptop is always available, somewhere in his bedroom, and you take it while he’s napping, not bothering to ask. you’re not surprised to open it and immediately be met with a porn browser. he probably had a nut so massive it put him to sleep. but you are curious as to what gets him off, and it does take you by surprise to see something about “Hardcore Non Con” in the browser.

in the comfort of your bedroom, you secretly watch the entire video, starting it over from where he left off. which is surprisingly far. he must’ve been edging the entire time. either way, you watch it for yourself, imagining him doing all the things that happen - cruel, disgusting things that you know you shouldn’t want but can’t help but picture him doing and saying. you get off way too fast, as always when he’s your muse. it’s not until you climax that you think of the unthinkable… how to bait him into fucking you. you would be whatever he wanted you to be if it meant you got what you wanted.

you manage to sneak his laptop back into his room before he woke up, but popping back a few hours later when he was wide awake. “i have a question,” you say, shutting his door behind yourself with your hands behind your back, pretending to be shy. “what’s noncon?”

he is surprised to hear these words come from your mouth, and immediately glances to his laptop that he hadn’t touched since… well, since before his nap. “why are you asking?” he questions, suspicious. you reply back quietly, “i may or may not have taken your laptop…” he is even more taken aback by this, and appears a little frantic. “you did what?” he exclaims. “you didn’t see the tab?” you knew that he would ask that, considering it was glaring you straight in the face upon opening his laptop, and readily lied, “no…? i didn’t click it, the screen opened on a youtube tab.” you continued seemingly obliviously, “is it a workout thing?”

stepbro!member snorts at this, amused by your innocence but immediately noticing the opportunity to take advantage of your ignorance. when he asks if you want him to demonstrate, you reply with a reluctant, “sure…?” trying to hide the way you tense with excitement at what’s to come.

he beckons you over. the shock on your face is only pretend when he presses you into his mattress, trapping you beneath his body weight. you try to move but he’s stronger than you, and being overpowered only serves to make your thighs press together with need. “stay fucking still,” he hisses in a tone darker than you’ve ever heard from him. you play your role too, reaching out to try and stop him when he yanks at your shorts, only for him to lock your arms behind your back. you call out his name, whining, “s-stop it, you can’t do that. we’re siblings.”

“i don’t give a shit. you wanted me to demonstrate, didn’t you?” he snaps, running his fingers over your folds. the sensation makes you gasp and your knees buck against his mattress. “you’re fucking wet. don’t act like you’re not begging for this. stupid slut.”

you shake your head, denying it, even though it’s true. your body tremors with excitement, but he mistakes it as fear and chuckles. “please,” you beg, “let me go. i’m sorry. i won’t take your laptop anymore!”

taeil

okay so technically this is more cannibalism than it is necrophilia (unless he eats you out ha ha get it ha ha ha) but walk with me. taeil would really enjoy making you into a loving meal. storing you somewhere so that you don’t rot so quickly, cutting you up and eating you in tiny portions so that he can enjoy you longer... he makes your favorite meals with a side of you in it to show his love. i honestly can’t imagine him genuinely killing you, so you probably died in some unforeseen circumstance and he thought that eating you would be a beautiful way of carrying you with him forever :( why should he be sad when he gets to savor your taste? he even sings your favorite songs as he carefully prepares into his lucky meal of the day. he doesn’t have any malicious intent and he’s doing it solely out of respect and yearning

johnny

okay. i know we went down the whole “johnny dissects girls” thing which was really hot. HOWEVER. he would honestly prefer if you were alive and i apologize if this is redundant considering my whole serial killer johnny thing, but him killing you only happens just before he’s about to cum. dare i say he strangles you. listen, he’s big on intimidation and intimacy (he sees no real difference) and you know how people say eyes are the gateway to the soul? well, other than him loving the look in your lifeless eyes, he also really just likes knowing that he was the last thing you saw. if someone asked, he would say that he knew you better than anyone else, that you two saw the most intimate parts of each other in that moment. he literally had your life in his hands during your final moments. is there anything more intimate than that?

taeyong

okay now this is a real necrophile! taeyong makes love to your corpse as if you can feel every careful, passionate thrust as he pushes himself in and out of your lifeless body. he presses sweet kisses onto your neck where your pulse has completely faded, to your lips that don’t move against his as they used to. to be honest, taeyong thinks you’ve never been more gorgeous than you are right now. and he tells you that much, even though you can’t hear him. he doesn’t change anything about you, you look about the same as you did before you died, but there’s something in death that is inherently beautiful to him. and not to mention that he takes such marvelous care of your body afterwards, like he has done his research on the best possible way to preserve a human body and he wants to keep you intact for as long as he can. he genuinely wants to give you the best possible place to rest

yuta

the way i see it, it probably starts off as an indulgence in mutually consensual knife play but then he gets a little too carried away… the knife presses into you too hard for too long until he even begins to twist it and hear you scream. and yuta most definitely likes to hear those noises from you, not bothering to smother them, just whispering, “that’s it, scream for me.” he’s not thinking about the consequences, about how your body starts to weaken and your blood is soaking his mattress, and in fact, as you begin to sweat and breathe loudly, he just continues to twist the knife. i think if it’s his first time he accidentally kills you too quickly, because he can’t help losing his self-control, but he’s also really obsessed with how you look so… obviously lifeless. the stillness. the blood dripping from every orifice. he has to admit that it gets him harder than just toying around with the knife does, and do you really expect him to not use you to get off? alternatively, if this isn’t his first kill, he would actually want to give you a semi fair shot of making it out alive! here, you get a knife too! but that has less to do with necrophilia and more his sadistic nature

doyoung

there’s absolutely nothing spontaneous about it. doyoung has been thinking about how he would kill you in detail for a while now. at first he tried to pry the sick thoughts out of his head, but he keeps thinking about how pretty you would look as his helpless victim. smeared in blood, trembling, resisting. i think he would even first stab you right where you least expected it, at the most beautiful moment of the night, like maybe while he’s kissing you or something. that moment of shock on your face as you jolt back and stare at him, handing falling to where the cut is, and looking up from your bleeding fingers to his face. he doesn’t even see himself as malicious, really. it’s a sensual thing, the way his knife moves in and out of you, the same way his hips do once you’re gone. i think he even works really hard to set the scene. if it’s the last night out of your life, why wouldn’t he go out of his way to make sure it was also the best?

jaehyun

he probably wholeheartedly believes that you’re still alive, at least for a few days, if not weeks or more. he redresses you in his favorite outfits of yours, such as the sundress that he likes, sits you at the table while he makes breakfast or dinner for the both of you, talking to you about his day as if you’re still there. and he still makes love to you at night, making you wear those lovely panties because he loves how they look on you the most. night after night, after night, as long as he can until he can’t ignore that you’re dead. jaehyun is another one that i don’t think gains any pleasure from killing you, he’s just delusional. so if he was the one who killed you, it was quick and probably unintentional or a result of him thinking he had “no other choice.” like hear me out, this is probably the result of long term kidnapping gone very, very wrong. him trying to condition you into his submissive little gf and failing terribly

jungwoo

he wasn’t even the one that killed you, or at least initially attacked you. he just happened to stumble across your dying body, and he was going to help you, he really was, but seeing those pleading eyes and the blood spilling from your guts… it woke up something in him that he never knew was there. so ultimately, he ends up inside you, thrusting in and out of you as you lie helplessly in the middle of fuck knows where. he doesn’t even realize that you’re dead until after he cums, and he gets hit with a wave of guilt, but he tells himself that you wouldn’t have made it even if he called an ambulance or something :(

mark

mark honestly didn’t even mean to kill you, to hurt you at all. he was just so frustrated with everything, work and his family and now you’re yelling at him as if he isn’t completely aware that he’s been different lately, that he’s wrong… he just can’t take it. mark snapped, that’s all. and it leaves him with a very dead you. when he realizes the gravity of what he’s done, the guilt is etched all over his face. even as he holds your hips tenderly, rolling into you with sharp thrusts as he presses you against the floor, he whispers in your ear, “sorry, sorry…” he’s so ashamed, can’t you feel it in how feverishly he moves inside you? because he knew this is what would have came next anyways, the makeup sex after the argument. “i’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

haechan

but if he knew that it was wrong, then why did he resolve himself to do it anyway? why did he smile in your face as if he didn’t know that he was about to hurt you? why didn’t he give jeno back his stuff, instead of holding onto it all this time?

jisung didn’t have any idea what it was, other than what jeno had told him while pressing the tiny bag into his chest. colorless, odorless, tasteless, and she’ll be out long enough for you to do all the dirty, perverted stuff you’re too scared to do while she’s awake.

but the truth was that compared to the thought of doing it while you were awake, this terrified jisung tenfold. would it still hurt you, bother you? would you feel the soreness between your thighs and instantly know what he had done? would you hate him more because you wouldn’t remember?

those were the thoughts hurtling through his head when you got up to use the bathroom. but if he was going to do it, he had to act quickly. your nightstand was littered with prescriptions pills and jisung knew you took the iron supplements every night. he poured the powder into your water bottle, watching it disappear as he shook it.

jisung’s heart raced at a rhythm he never knew could be possible when you came back and grabbed a hold of your water bottle. you didn’t make a face, drinking it like nothing was the matter. and he was surprised by how quickly you were out. in the few minutes it took to take effect, you didn’t even have time to become sleepy.

for a long minute, jisung didn’t even seem to remember why he had done this anymore. he was staring at your face, poking your cheek to see if you would react, but you didn’t stir. he worried that maybe you were dead, but when he put his finger to the base of your neck, there was still a normal pulse.

jisung’s breath quickened when he realized all of the things he could do to you right now. he didn’t dive in headfirst like he thought he would, his fingers absentmindedly trailing your soft skin first. he started with your neck, since his hand was already there, gently tightening his fingers around it. he wanted to mark you so badly, but he couldn’t.

he brought his thump up to your bottom lip, overcome by the formerly suppressed urge to kiss you, and with nothing to stop him, he pressed his lips to yours. he was mildly annoyed that you couldn’t kiss him back, but on the bright side, he still had the opportunity to touch you.

to do all the dirty, perverted stuff he was too scared to do while you were awake, as jeno put it.

his words always echoed in jisung’s head, influencing him in ways that were less than healthy. you could easily take her, if you weren’t so weak in the knees, jeno would tease, nudging jisung painfully. she’s anemic, for fuck’s sake. she can’t be that strong. 

jisung pulled back to gape at you in your night gown. he always thought you looked good in them. the way they gave away your collarbone and the little lace ribbon where your cleavage stopped, and the way the cute sleeves cuffed at your wrists was endearing to him.

but right now, as he gingerly bunched up the dress and caught sight of your lilac, cotton panties, the only thing he could think about was how desperately he ached to be inside you, to feel your sticky, throbbing walls cling around his virgin cock. to prove that he wasn’t a coward, that he wasn’t weak like you were. 

and for that reason, he couldn’t be slow and steady anymore. he knew there was no clock on him, nothing pacing him and nothing threatening to tear him away from the warmth of you, but his self-restraint had already worn thin and he was running on empty.

jisung convinced himself that you wanted him as he sheathed himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, every impatient inch of him. it may not have come from your mouth, but the slick somewhat facilitating his entry was answer enough. you may not have known what was happening, but your body was hyper aware.

god, jisung’s was, too. he couldn’t resist the tight squeeze, the way your pussy gripped him for dear life, and he tipped his head forward as his hands gripped your thighs to anchor himself before he fell too deep. even they were warm, the most cute and supple pair.

his eyes were completely closed, winced shut at the first pulse of your warm and tight cunt around his dick. he knew you would have loved him, if you could feel him. he knew he was big enough to please you. the guys too often teased him, saying he had all those inches, but not a hint of what to do with any.

but jisung knew right now. driving his hips passionately into yours, big hands clasping at your soft, moisturized skin, he knew he could make you feel things unimaginable. the sounds you were unknowingly yanking out of his throat, he could easily pull out of you. the way his face tensed with pleasure, he was certain he could make short work of you, too. 

the determination in your eyes turned to frustration and despair as they began to leak slow and heavy droplets. you began to roll your shoulders, and he felt them tense as you attempted to pull against tight ropes. he watched the way your throat moved with every heave, the frequency increasing the more his digits explored your skin.

your feet swung, ankles twisting, knees propelling your legs towards his body that fit snug between your thighs, fingers breaking through the barrier of your underwear. jisung hissed, thumb grazing your slit, applying light pressure to your mound as he pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his knees.

when he sank into you, your mouth widened, your entire body stiffened and your back formed an arch. jisung shuddered at the warmth around his hard cock, a grunt bubbling from his throat. the tip of your tongue was a pretty pink, the color shifting and becoming darker the further up his eyes traveled, finding the back of your throat. jisung began to move, lithe hips snapping against yours quickly, pulling out slowly, and repeating the process to feel your walls sucking on his throbbing cock.