massive bags under my eyes

Blame it on the Alcohol- Part 4

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: ??? It’s got a tiny bit of smut in it 

Word Count: 3.2k

Other Parts: 1 2 3 4



I side eyed the classroom once more, checking to make sure the professor wasn’t hiding in the corner or something. When I confirmed he wasn’t in the room, I grabbed my bag off the ground and quickly went to the exit with Jungkook close on my tail. We ducked down the hall and out to the courtyard which was surprisingly scarce of people. Jungkook pulled me around a secluded corner and pressed me against the cold brick wall. His hands moved all over my body as he desperately attacked my lips with his own. I tangled my hands in his hair and tugged on it as his tongue dove deeply into my mouth.

Jungkook broke away, hair tousled and breathing hard. His eyes scanned me up and down and then one side of his mouth turned upward, “let’s go back to my place,” he grabbed my hand and started pulling me.

I pulled my hand out of his grip to make him look back at me, which he did in confusion, “Mine is closer,” I told him.

His eyes darkened with mischief and lust, “Lead the way then,” he held his hand out in front of him to let me walk passed him.

I once again laced my fingers with his and this time pulled him down the path which I knew was a shortcut to my apartment building. The normally scenic path through the local park by my apartment blurred by as I ungraciously tugged Jungkook down the sidewalk. Butterflies filled my stomach when we walked through the main entrance to the building and hiked up the three levels of stairs to my floor. I pulled Y/BF/N’s key out of my pocket, sticking it into the keyhole and swinging the door open.

I pulled Jungkook into my bedroom and immediately I was shoved onto the bed.

He grappled at the bottom of my shirt and vigorously pulled it off my body. He attached his mouth to the exposed valley between my breasts while undoing his belt. While he did that, I worked on getting my pants and underwear off as quickly as possible, desperate to alleviate the ache between my legs. He pulled his shirt off, then kicked his pants to the ground, boxers included then immediately lined himself up with my hole. He thrusted hard and eagerly into me, causing intense pleasure and a slight sting from the stretch to mix inside of me. He buried his head in my neck as he rapidly moved his hips.

We both came hard and fast. Jungkook threw himself down on the bed, back first and was breathing heavily. He wrapped his arm around me to pull my body close to his. I laid my head down on his chest which was quickly rising and falling.

“You know,” I started, still trying to catch my breath, “we can’t keep just leaving school in the middle of the day.”

“Oh but this is so much more fun,” he whined dramatically.

I giggled at his comment then sighed, falling into a state of exhaustion which always took over my body after we finished our “activities”.

I closed my eyes and listened to his heart pounding. His fingers gently massaged my scalp making the urge to fall asleep stronger.

Jungkook lurched all of the sudden, “Oh, Y/N! Before I forget, give me your phone number,” he said while sitting up and reaching for his pants on the floor. He unlocked his phone and handed it to me, “in case you forget your bag at my house again.”

“Or you want a booty call,” I smirked.

He shrugged and the corners of his mouth turned upward, “Maybe that too.”

I typed in my number then handed his phone back to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest.

We sat in comfortable silence for a significant amount of time. I laid my head on his chest thinking about how nice his skin felt, and how comfortable he was, and how I really really didn’t want to get up. I thought about his fingers which were massaging my scalp and found it funny that such a simple action could make my heart start pounding in my chest. It was moments like this that I wished would never end. It was moments like this that made me fall for him so hard, so fast. I wondered if there was even the slightest chance that he felt the same way.

“Hey, Jungkook?” I began, unable to contain my thoughts any longer, “what are we doing here?”

He hesitated, “Huh?”

I sat up to look at his face, “I mean this,” I gestured between us, “what are we doing… with each other?”

He looked to the ceiling as he thought through his answer, “Having fun,” he said simply.

I scrunched my face, “Okay but…” I struggled to find the right words to say, “what’s gonna happen with us?”

Jungkook’s fingers skimmed up and down my spine, “Y/N, don’t stress about it. We’re having fun. A lot of fun,” he smirked, “Let’s just keep doing that and see where life takes us. We can worry about labels later.”

My heart sank a little. Clearly, he wasn’t feeling the same way as me. However, he also liked spending time with me. As he said, we’re having a lot of fun, and I’d hate for that to end.

“Let’s just say we’re friends,” he suggested, “really close friends.”

I laughed once, “we’re friends with benefits,” I called the situation as it actually was.

He nodded.

I examined his face to make sure he was serious. His eyes were glued to mine and his mouth was set in a straight line.

“Okay then,” I nodded firmly, satisfied with the consensus, then laid down and rested my head on his chest again.

We fell asleep together then Jungkook left almost immediately after he woke up a few hours later.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said kindly before leaving me in my bed, still naked and alone.

This will have to do. If I want to be with him, I’ll just have to settle with being his “really close friend”.

Saturday….

I sat on the couch with my legs propped up on the coffee table in front of me. A new episode of my favorite show just started and I held a cup of tea close to my face, letting the steam warm my nose. Strings music played through the speakers of the tv as a heart-wrenching scene played. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and I clenched my hands around the warm mug in anticipation.

My phone, which was sat in my lap, buzzed and caused me to rip my eyes away from the emotional scene that played on the tv. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and lifted the device to my face and saw a name which made the butterflies in my stomach flutter.

Jungkook: Wanna get lunch?

I smiled at his question as heat rose to my cheeks. So he does want to do more than have sex with me, he actually wants to spend time with me.

I put down my cup of tea to make it easier to reply back.

Me: yeah sure. Where are we going?

I watched the screen and anticipated his response when I saw the bubble with three dots appear in the feed to tell me he was typing.

Jungkook: I really want a burger from that one place by your apartment.

Despite his vague description, I knew exactly the place he was talking about since they were known throughout the city for their incredible burgers.

Me: do you wanna meet there?

I typed back.

Jungkook: No, I’ll come get you and we can walk together

His response was almost instant.

Me: okay

I replied to him then bolted up from the couch and ran to my room. I went to my full-length mirror to assess the situation and decide how much I needed to do to be presentable. My hair was sticking out in every direction since I hadn’t been bothered to brush it when I woke up. Or wash it. I was wearing an oversized worn out shirt that once had a logo on it but it was no longer decipherable. It also had holes in it and god knows what caused those to show up. I was also only wearing my underwear and they weren’t the kind I would want to flaunt for Jungkook either. Clearly, there was some work to be done.

It would take him about 15 minutes to walk from his apartment to mine so that meant a shower was out of the question. I tamed my bird’s nest with a hairbrush then doused it with a decent amount of dry shampoo before pulling it into a messy bun. I threw off my ratty shirt and changed my underwear to a nice lacey pink pair (cause you never know what a lunch date could turn into). I put on a gray sweater and a pair of leggings then pulled on my favorite black boots.

I went into the bathroom and sighed at the sight of the massive bags under my eyes. I quickly put on a layer of foundation to hide those, did my eyebrows and put on a couple coats of mascara. This would have to be good enough.

Just as I was giving myself a final glance over in the full-length mirror, there was a knock at the door. I took a deep breath then walked out of the bathroom and to the front door.

Jungkook was wearing a white t-shirt, blue skinny jeans, a black beanie, and a pair of timberlands, an outfit that I have seen him in numerous times but he somehow always looked great in.

“Hey Y/N,” he shoved his hands into his pocket and smiled, making his eyes turn into glimmering half moons, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let me grab my bag.”

We arrived at the crowded restaurant during the lunch rush. Jungkook escorted me to a two person table near the back of the restaurant, away from the hustle and bustle. He grabbed two menus and handed one to me before opening the other and scanning the options.

“Have you ever been here?” He asked while looking at the menu.

I opened my menu and examined the array of options in front of me, “No I haven’t but I’ve  I heard the cheeseburgers are really good.”

He nodded, “Maybe I’ll get that.”

I looked over the meals and settled, “I think I will too.”

We both closed our menus just as the waitress walked over to the table and placed a glass of water in front of both of us. She was a young girl, probably around my age. She had long shiny brown hair that was paired with chocolate brown eyes and flawless olive skin.

“How are you two doing today?” She asked cheerily, looking at me before Jungkook.

When her eyes settled on him, they widened and she gasped lightly, “Jungkook!”

I looked at Jungkook whose entire face lit up and was filled with more joy than I had ever seen. He stood up and wrapped an arm around the waitress’s shoulder, “Hey Krystal!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close while giggling. A pang of jealousy sprung through me as I watched the two, clearly close friends reconnected.

“How are you?!” Jungkook broke away and asked her enthusiastically.

“I’m great!” She said as he sat back down. Her gleaming, smiling eyes wandered over to me, “is this your-”

“Friend,” Jungkook cut her off quickly. My eyes shot over to him as did hers. He was looking at her, “she’s my friend.”

The taste of bitterness filled my mouth and I clenched my jaw to hide my abhorrence towards that word.

She looked back at me with a friendly smile, “I’m Y/N,” I plastered a fake smile on my face.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Krystal,” she cleared her throat and stood up straight, “Can I start you off with something to drink,” she asked both of us, getting back into her work mode.

“I’ll just have a Coke,” I told her.

“Same for me,” Jungkook agreed, “were ready to order too,” he looked at me.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” I told her as she wrote down my order then looked at Jungkook.

“I’ll have that too,” he took my menu and put it on top of his then handed them to Krystal.

“Okay! I’ll have those right out for you!” She gave one last sparkling, a little too nice smile then walked away.

Jungkook and I both watched her walk away then I turned back to him, “Who was that?”

His eyes were still looking at her while her back was turned to us and it wasn’t hard for me to guess what part of her body he was actually staring at.

“Huh?” He asked without moving his eyes.

“Who was that?” I asked a little louder with slightly more urgency.

He blinked then finally looked at me, “A friend.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and tilted my head to the side, “A friend?”

He nodded just as Krystal came back and put two glasses of soda in front of us.

Jungkook took a long drink of soda through his straw then looked at me. He slowly put the drink down and straightened his back, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“When you say she’s a friend you mean…” my skepticism of their relationship was very apparent.

He looked around clearly confused, “I mean she’s a friend. What else could I possibly mean by that?” He furrowed his brow.

“I’m also ‘a friend’,” I put air quotes around the word friend.

My implied question registered with Jungkook and he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and a smug smile went across his face, “Y/N are you jealous of Krystal?”

“No!” I bit back instantly and felt my cheeks warming.

He chuckled and shook his head, “she’s just a friend.” He reassured, “You’re my only friend,” he added extra emphasis to the word so the meaning wouldn’t get mixed up.

I nodded, “okay,” the anxiety in my stomach faded slightly and I took a sip of my Coke.

“Well, I mean,” he started, “she and I used to kind of have a thing,” he stated nonchalantly.

The soda in my mouth went down my throat involuntarily, causing me to fall into a fit of coughs, “Are you serious?! I spat at him angrily

He noticed my anger and leaned back in surprise, “it was really nothing, less serious than what you and I have,” his voice was flat, he clearly didn’t see why this information was upsetting, “We slept together twice… maybe three times,” He tried to defend himself.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I raged.

Jungkook retracted, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head, “it was like a year ago… anything between us is over now,” He furrowed his brow and shook his head, “Why are you mad?” He asked quietly.

I raised an eyebrow at him, “because!” I scrambled to make up a reason that didn’t completely give away my jealousy, “because I don’t know where she’s been! What if I contracted something?!”

Jungkook bit his lip with a hint of humor behind his gaze, “Y/N, don’t you think if you contracted some sort of sexually transmitted disease from me, you’d know by now?”

I opened my mouth to refute his statement but all that came out was a string of stammers. Thankfully, Krystal came back to the table with our food in hand.

“If you need anything, let me know,” she said a little too kindly to Jungkook.

I grabbed the burger in front of me off of the plate and took a massive bite out of it to bide myself time before I had to say anything else to him.

We sat silently eating our food for a couple minutes and then Jungkook cleared his throat, “Look, Y/N, I know I joked before but I want you to know that what happened with Krystal and me, it’s in the past. It’s done.” he said sincerely.

I swallowed a mouthful of food, “why did end?” I asked.

He shrugged, “Honestly, we just kinda faded, we kept in touch for a little while but once school started again, we didn’t have time to see each other so we just gradually stopped talking.”

I nodded, fully understanding the situation.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” he told me kindly.

Despite his nice words, anger rose inside me. Why was he talking to me the way a boyfriend would talk to his girlfriend? I’m not his girlfriend and he made it very clear to me that he didn’t want me to be his girlfriend, so why is he treating me this way?

“You don’t need to worry about how I feel, you know,” I pointed out bitterly.

“What do you mean?” He turned his head to one side.

“That’s like a rule of this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, you don’t need to care about my emotions. It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything, you don’t need to explain yourself,” I crossed my arms over my chest and downplayed my irritation.

“Even if that is the rule, I still care about you,” he mumbled.

I shrugged and chewed my lip, not trusting the stability of my voice. The fact that it was cloudy what his feelings for me were, upset me more than I could express, but I didn’t want him to know that.

He looked at me with concern as he thought of something more to say, but he said nothing. After taking one last sip of soda, Jungkook wiped his hands then cleared his throat, “I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” he told me then got up.

Almost as soon as he walked away, Krystal walked over to the table, smiling.

“So,” she said while squatting down and resting her arm on the table, “How’s Jungkook doing?” she asked innocently.

I sighed then slapped on the most genuine looking fake smile I could muster. Even if what happened between them was over, even if they really are just friends, I don’t like this girl.

And why did I get the feeling that she was gonna be around for a while?


Shout out the anon who gave me the idea for this part! I was in a bit of a writing slump but I’ve got some new ideas and I’m excited to share them!

As always, I love feedback and new requests

Thanks for Reading! xx

STILES STILINSKI x READER

5. “You’re the most beautiful human being on earth no matter what and I’m in love with you.” A/N: this isn’t as fluffy as you probably hoped it to be

You sat on the bench with Lydia and Kira, watching lacrosse team’s practise. You were beyond tired because you’ve been stressed out lately, which caused troubles with sleeping. You watched as your boyfriend Stiles stumbled on the field making you smile.

“Are you coming?” Lydia asked you out of nowhere. You woke up from your trance.
“Where?”
“At the pack meeting tonight”, she said. Thought of it didn’t sound good, you just wanted to spoon with Stiles and sleep.
“I don’t know, I’ve been really tired,” you yawned.
“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.
“Yeah, it’s just stress. It keeps me awake”, you said tiredly.

Coach whistled and the practise was over. Stiles jogged to the benches.
“Hi babe,” he said and gave you a peck on lips. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired”, you told him.

“Let’s go to my place and sleep, I’ll go change first”, he said and went to the locker rooms.

You waited him at his car, wearing his flannel from yesterday. Scott’s motorcycle was next to it, and soon you spotted them both coming out from school.

“You’re skipping the pack meeting tonight?” Scott asked you.
“I’m too tired, I don’t want to start snoring there,” you answered letting out a small yawn from your mouth again.
“Sorry buddy, I can’t come neither. I love hearing my girlfriend snoring,” Stiles joked as you slapped him lightly on the arm.
“I let you go to sleep now, see you tomorrow”, Scott laughed and put on his helmet. You jumped on the front seat of Stiles’s blue Jeep.

**

“FINALLY. I missed you so much baby,” you sweet-talked to Stiles’s bed.
“Should I be jealous?” you heard sarcastic comment behind you.
“You can be my pillow, everyone gets a piece of me”, you announced as you changed your jeans to Stiles’s sweatpants.

You stood in front of the mirror trying to open up your necklace.
“Ugh, I give up. Can you open it while I hold my hair up?” you asked him taking your hair in your hands and holding them up.
Stiles’s cold fingers gently brushed your neck opening the lock. He put your necklace on table and hugged you from behind, placing his head on your shoulder. You saw your reflections in the mirror and you had to admit you looked cute together, you wearing his flannel and sweatpants while he held you tightly against his chest.
“You’re so beautiful”, he mumbled in your ear, causing you to blush.
“Oh stop it, I look so tired and I got massive bags under my eyes”, you said and turned around. He still kept his hands tightly around you.
“You know what? Even if you have bags under your eyes it doesn’t mean you don’t look good. You’re the most beautiful human being on earth, no matter what, and I am in love with you” he said and moved your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too”, you whispered. He glanzed into your eyes

“You do?” he asked happiness lighting up his eyes. You nodded and before you realize, you were yawning again.

“OH MY GOD you ruined our moment!”, he shouted sarcastically.

“Oh, shut up Stilinski and let me sleep”, you said and got out of his warm hug jumping into his bed.

You closed your eyes and heard him walking towards the bed. He poked your arm telling you to move, so you moved a bit and gave him room. You placed your head in his chest and listened his heartbeats and fell asleep feeling happier than you’ve ever felt.

I used to hack baby monitors. One night, I learned my lesson.

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be.

Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and hung out almost every evening after chow time. We watched prank shows, played video games, talked about who had the nicest rack in school. One evening, we were trading scary stories at the park. Kurt shared the classic story about the single mother who heard a haunting voice on her baby monitor. Like most horror stories, it sounded like total bullshit, but Dimitri told us it had happened to his mom once. On her own monitor, she’d heard a neighbour singing to her baby. Apparently, it was possible to accidentally tap into someone else’s frequency. In an instant, a lightbulb turned on in each of our heads. When you’re close enough to someone, you don’t need words to know what that person is thinking, and we could all tell we were thinking the exact same thing: we were going to buy a baby monitor and screw with people.

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#19: I Used To Hack Baby Monitors. One Night, I Learned My Lesson.

By: manen_lyset

Length: Long

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be.

Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and hung out almost every evening after chow time. We watched prank shows, played video games, talked about who had the nicest rack in school. One evening, we were trading scary stories at the park. Kurt shared the classic story about the single mother who heard a haunting voice on her baby monitor.

Like most horror stories, it sounded like total bullshit, but Dimitri told us it had happened to his mom once. On her own monitor, she’d heard a neighbour singing to her baby. Apparently, it was possible to accidentally tap into someone else’s frequency. In an instant, a lightbulb turned on in each of our heads. When you’re close enough to someone, you don’t need words to know what that person is thinking, and we could all tell we were thinking the exact same thing: we were going to buy a baby monitor and screw with people.

Pardon the pun, but hacking a baby monitor is child’s play. All you need to do is find a device on the same frequency as yours. Never one to do things half-assed, I purchased a high-end monitor with a frequency dial so we could prank as many targets as possible.

The following night, we took to our bikes, roamed the neighbourhood, and found our first victim. We could see the nursery from the suburban home’s second floor window. Dimitri grabbed the baby monitor and began tuning it to different frequencies, until we heard breathing. I remember feeling excited as our plan finally came to fruition. Dimitri pressed the button, and began exhaling heavily into the receiver.

“…your…little girl…was…delicious…”, he murmured, using a demonic voice.

The light in the master bedroom turned on almost immediately, and we heard a shrill scream. Laughing our asses off, we quickly rode off down the street so we wouldn’t get caught.

We repeated the prank several times over the course of the following weeks, each taking turns talking through the monitor. Not wanting anyone to get wise to our little game, we chose different houses every time. People’s reactions were priceless: some mothers would reply in a panic, others seemed to know it was a hoax and told us to shut up, and one poor woman even started sobbing uncontrollably, begging us not to hurt her baby.

I feel bad about that last one now that I’m older, but it was hilarious to me back then. My friends and I mimicked her high-pitch bawling and desperate cries for mercy for weeks afterwards. Yeah, we were royal dicks.

Karma’s a bitch, and I got what was coming to me one night. Kurt and Dimitri were busy studying for their midterms, so I went out on my own. By then, we’d gotten pretty much everyone in the surrounding area, so I decided to venture off across town and into unfamiliar territory. Finding a target wasn’t difficult: you just had to look for cars with baby seats, houses with overly-colorful cartoon-themed curtains, or toys left in the yard.

I came across a house that fit all three criteria, and parked my bike out of view. Playing with the tuner, I eventually found the right frequency. I could hear the sound of a baby snoring very lightly. A devious little smirk pushed its way onto my lips, and my heart began pounding with excitement. It was my time to shine.

“I…am…watching…”, I whispered into the monitor, using the creepiest voice I could muster.

The house remained dark and lifeless. I figured the home owners hadn’t heard me.

“…I…stand…over your bed…watching…waiting…I will get you…”, I said, louder this time.

Nothing. Just the sounds of crickets chirping, and the occasional dull roar of a car driving down the street. It was a little odd. Parents usually reacted much quicker than that. I began feeling a little nervous, and somewhat exposed. You know, like when you suddenly realize some creeper’s gawking at you? It was getting late, and I had a long bike ride home.

Just as I was about to give up and leave, I heard a strange, moist gurgling sound coming from the monitor. The quiet, rhythmic snores ceased, and I assumed the baby had woken up and was about to start crying. Instead, a man spoke to me.

“You’re the one…being…watched now…Juan”, he said softly.

My stomach pirouetted at his words. How did he know my name?! I felt sick. Something was very wrong, and I could feel it in my bones. I glanced up at the nursery window, and saw a silhouette standing there watching me. Had he been there the whole time?

The air was thick and difficult to inhale, though perhaps fear was making it hard to breathe. My body quivered uncontrollably, as a sense of dread poured into every inch of me. I climbed on my bike, pedaling desperately to get away. Part of me thought I was overreacting, but the overwhelming need to flee overpowered my rational mind.

“You…can’t run…I know…where you live, Juan…”, continued the man, even as I turned the corner.

I flew down the street, not stopping until I reached a busy boulevard. Surrounded by cars and a few late night joggers, I felt safe.

“…Your hoodie will run red with your blood, boy…”, whispered the man, still talking through the baby monitor in my pocket.

A passerby gave me a nasty look as I yelped loudly in fear, practically ripping my hoodie in my frantic attempt at removing it. To the stranger, I must have looked like some snotty kid tripping balls or something. He didn’t know I was in genuine distress, so I don’t blame him for walking off with an insulted huff, though I wish he had offered to help me instead.

After stuffing the hoodie into my backpack, I noticed my name scrawled on the back. It was my fucking school jacket: no wonder that bastard knew my name. It then occurred to me that baby monitors were fairly short-ranged, so I was obviously being followed. I nervously glanced around to try and identify my stalker. Was it the empty-looking van down the street? That guy walking his dog? The car that had just driven by?

Either way, the last thing I wanted was to hear that voice again, so I turned off the device, and started pedaling towards my home. Fear had heightened my senses, and I began notice every motion of the trees in the breeze, every crackle of twigs under my wheels, and every car that zipped past me. I flinched whenever anyone came near, paranoid that whoever had spoken to me through the baby monitor was going to catch up. Fortunately, I made it home without incident.

I parked the bike in my garage and crawled up the stairs to my bedroom. In one careless motion, I tossed my backpack and the baby monitor in the corner of my room, and dove under my sheets like an Olympic swimmer. It doesn’t matter how old you are: nothing feels safer than being under your blanket. I closed my eyes, hoping I’d be able to calm down enough to catch a few hours of rest before class, but then I heard static coming from the monitor across the room. The monitor that was supposed to be off.

“Sweet dreams, Juan”, said the voice that still haunts my nightmares.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was too frightened to get out of bed until sunrise. When I got up, my first order of business was to remove the battery from the monitor and throw it in the trash. I didn’t want anything to do with it any more. I came up with an excuse to give my buddies so they wouldn’t think I was a huge pussy. With massive bags under my eyes, I got dressed, had breakfast, and went to school.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I saw the house on the news. In an interview, a police officer explained that the small family who had been living in the house had been found in their beds, necks slit open. I had been outside when it happened: the killer had heard me on the baby monitor and decided to fuck with me.

It was definitely a wake-up call, and I thanked my lucky stars that I hadn’t gotten the shit murdered out of me. I was too busy feeling thankful that I survived to feel bad about the family that hadn’t. Empathy, like wisdom, comes with age.

Now that I’m an adult with a wife and daughter, I truly understand the consequences of my actions, and the severity of the situation I put myself in as a tremendously stupid teenage boy. That dreadful night, I thought I reached the epitome of fear, but it was just the tip of the iceberg. As a father, I now know that fear thrives and multiplies when there’s something more precious than your own life at stake.

I can’t say for sure whether the killer found me again after all these years, or whether a new breed of idiots had the same idea as my friends and I, but I can tell you that I now understand what true terror is. Last night, I heard something on our baby monitor that sent chills into my very soul, shackling me with a paralyzing fear that I doubt will ever leave me:

“I'm…still…watching…”

I used to hack baby monitors. One night, I learned my lesson.

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be.

Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and hung out almost every evening after chow time. We watched prank shows, played video games, talked about who had the nicest rack in school. One evening, we were trading scary stories at the park. Kurt shared the classic story about the single mother who heard a haunting voice on her baby monitor. Like most horror stories, it sounded like total bullshit, but Dimitri told us it had happened to his mom once. On her own monitor, she’d heard a neighbour singing to her baby. Apparently, it was possible to accidentally tap into someone else’s frequency. In an instant, a lightbulb turned on in each of our heads. When you’re close enough to someone, you don’t need words to know what that person is thinking, and we could all tell we were thinking the exact same thing: we were going to buy a baby monitor and screw with people.

Pardon the pun, but hacking a baby monitor is child’s play. All you need to do is find a device on the same frequency as yours. Never one to do things half-assed, I purchased a high-end monitor with a frequency dial so we could prank as many targets as possible. The following night, we took to our bikes, roamed the neighbourhood, and found our first victim. We could see the nursery from the suburban home’s second floor window. Dimitri grabbed the baby monitor and began tuning it to different frequencies, until we heard breathing. I remember feeling excited as our plan finally came to fruition. Dimitri pressed the button, and began exhaling heavily into the receiver.

“…your…little girl…was…delicious…”, he murmured, using a demonic voice.

The light in the master bedroom turned on almost immediately, and we heard a shrill scream. Laughing our asses off, we quickly rode off down the street so we wouldn’t get caught.

We repeated the prank several times over the course of the following weeks, each taking turns talking through the monitor. Not wanting anyone to get wise to our little game, we chose different houses every time. People’s reactions were priceless: some mothers would reply in a panic, others seemed to know it was a hoax and told us to shut up, and one poor woman even started sobbing uncontrollably, begging us not to hurt her baby. I feel bad about that last one now that I’m older, but it was hilarious to me back then. My friends and I mimicked her high-pitch bawling and desperate cries for mercy for weeks afterwards. Yeah, we were royal dicks.

Karma’s a bitch, and I got what was coming to me one night. Kurt and Dimitri were busy studying for their midterms, so I went out on my own. By then, we’d gotten pretty much everyone in the surrounding area, so I decided to venture off across town and into unfamiliar territory. Finding a target wasn’t difficult: you just had to look for cars with baby seats, houses with overly-colorful cartoon-themed curtains, or toys left in the yard. I came across a house that fit all three criteria, and parked my bike out of view. Playing with the tuner, I eventually found the right frequency. I could hear the sound of a baby snoring very lightly. A devious little smirk pushed its way onto my lips, and my heart began pounding with excitement. It was my time to shine.

“I…am…watching…”, I whispered into the monitor, using the creepiest voice I could muster.

The house remained dark and lifeless. I figured the home owners hadn’t heard me.

“…I…stand…over your bed…watching…waiting…I will get you…”, I said, louder this time.

Nothing. Just the sounds of crickets chirping, and the occasional dull roar of a car driving down the street. It was a little odd. Parents usually reacted much quicker than that. I began feeling a little nervous, and somewhat exposed. You know, like when you suddenly realize some creeper’s gawking at you? It was getting late, and I had a long bike ride home. Just as I was about to give up and leave, I heard a strange, moist gurgling sound coming from the monitor. The quiet, rhythmic snores ceased, and I assumed the baby had woken up and was about to start crying. Instead, a man spoke to me.

“You’re the one…being…watched now…Juan.”, he said softly.

My stomach pirouetted at his words. How did he know my name?! I felt sick. Something was very wrong, and I could feel it in my bones. I glanced up at the nursery window, and saw a silhouette standing there watching me. Had he been there the whole time? The air was thick and difficult to inhale, though perhaps fear was making it hard to breathe. My body quivered uncontrollably, as a sense of dread poured into every inch of me. I climbed on my bike, pedalling desperately to get away. Part of me thought I was overreacting, but the overwhelming need to flee overpowered my rational mind.

“You…can’t run…I know…where you live, Juan…”, continued the man, even as I turned the corner.

I flew down the street, not stopping until I reached a busy boulevard. Surrounded by cars and a few late night joggers, I felt safe.

“…Your hoodie will run red your blood, boy…”, whispered the man, still talking through the baby monitor in my pocket.

A passerby gave me a nasty look as I yelped loudly in fear, practically ripping my hoodie in my frantic attempt at removing it. To the stranger, I must have looked like some snotty kid tripping balls or something. He didn’t know I was in genuine distress, so I don’t blame him for walking off with an insulted huff, though I wish he had offered to help me instead.

After stuffing the hoodie into my backpack, I noticed my name scrawled on the back. It was my fucking school jacket: no wonder that bastard knew my name. It then occurred to me that baby monitors were fairly short-ranged, so I was obviously being followed. I nervously glanced around to try and identify my stalker. Was it the empty-looking van down the street? That guy walking his dog? The car that had just driven by? Either way, the last thing I wanted was to hear that voice again, so I turned off the device, and started pedalling towards my home. Fear had heightened my senses, and I began notice every motion of the trees in the breeze, every crackle of twigs under my wheels, and every car that zipped past me. I flinched whenever anyone came near, paranoid that whoever had spoken to me through the baby monitor was going to catch up. Fortunately, I made it home without incident.

I parked the bike in my garage and crawled up the stairs to my bedroom. In one careless motion, I tossed my backpack and the baby monitor in the corner of my room, and dove under my sheets like an Olympic swimmer. It doesn’t matter how old you are: nothing feels safer than being under your blanket. I closed my eyes, hoping I’d be able to calm down enough to catch a few hours of rest before class, but then I heard static coming from the monitor across the room. The monitor that was supposed to be off.

“Sweet dreams, Juan.”, said the voice that still haunts my nightmares.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was too frightened to get out of bed until sunrise. When I got up, my first order of business was to remove the battery from the monitor and throw it in the trash. I didn’t want anything to do with it any more. I came up with an excuse to give my buddies so they wouldn’t think I was a huge pussy. With massive bags under my eyes, I got dressed, had breakfast, and went to school.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I saw the house on the news. In an interview, a police officer explained that the small family who had been living in the house had been found in their beds, necks slit open. I had been outside when it happened: the killer had heard me on the baby monitor and decided to fuck with me. It was definitely a wake-up call, and I thanked my lucky stars that I hadn’t gotten the shit murdered out of me. I was too busy feeling thankful that I survived to feel bad about the family that hadn’t. Empathy, like wisdom, comes with age.

Now that I’m an adult with a wife and daughter, I truly understand the consequences of my actions, and the severity of the situation I put myself in as a tremendously stupid teenage boy. That dreadful night, I thought I reached the epitome of fear, but it was just the tip of the iceberg. As a father, I now know that fear thrives and multiplies when there’s something more precious than your own life at stake. I can’t say for sure whether the killer found me again after all these years, or whether a new breed of idiots had the same idea as my friends and I, but I can tell you that I now understand what true terror is. Last night, I heard something on our baby monitor that sent chills into my very soul, shackling me with a paralyzing fear that I doubt will ever leave me:

“I'm…still…watching…”

3. You get a tattoo/piercing 2/5

Daniel/Skip

I groaned as I woke, my head throbbing like hell. I looked to my side to see Skip lying next to me, still sleeping. I cooed at his cuteness, before rolling on to my front. As soon as I did that I hissed in pain and recoiled as I felt a sharp pang shoot up my front. I lay winded, before I felt a sudden urge to throw up. Staggering out of bed, I ran into the bathroom, and bent over the toilet. My stomach instantly cleared itself. I gagged a few times, until I was finished. I wiped my mouth then brushed my teeth. I looked in the mirror, grimacing at the sight in front of me. My hair was a massive mess, I had dark bags under my eyes, all my make up was running… What happened last night? I remembered going out with Skip and the others… I remember drinking… A lot. And then…. I can’t actually remember anything else. God no wonder I’m so hungover! I reached into a cabinet for some paracetamol. Swallowing two tablets dry, I reached for my brush and tried to fix the atrocity that I call my hair. I managed to get it presentable, then I cleaned off yesterdays make up, before slapping on some concealer. Finally satisfied with my appearance, I headed downstairs. As I walked into the kitchen the other boys all started hooting and laughing at me.

“What?” I said grumpily, grabbing my mug.

“Well Y/N you should definitely get drunk more often!” Beau replied, barely keeping a straight face.

I gave him the ‘WTF?’ look before reaching up for the coffee. I winced as the same pain coursed through me again. It was coming from my… Boob? I gingerly touched one, and winced again. The boys seemed to find this even funnier, Jai laughing so hard he was practically on the floor.

“Ok,” I demanded, “What the actual fuck happened yesterday?” I put my hands on my hips as I turned to glare at them.

“Nothing, nothing…” James sniggered into his mug.

“Well obviously something did! I looked like death in the morning, I’m hungover as fuck and my boob hurts like a slut! So someone better tell me what happened and fast!”

“Ok!” Luke finally broke down. “So basically we were all out, you remember that much at least right?” I nodded. Jai took over now.

“So we were all drinking, and by the way Y/N, you’re a complete lightweight!” I glared at him, and he threw his hands up apologetically. “Anyways, so you got really hammered, after like three shots! And when you’re drunk you get…”

Beau picked it up from there. “You get like ten times awesomer! You were bouncing off the walls! You gave Skip a boner in front of everyone, then presently took off his shirt. All of this was in the club by the way! And I’m sure you would have done a lot more… Until…”

“…you saw his nipple piercing…” James concluded. “You took one look, and you were just fascinated… I think you know where this is going…” I nodded grimly. “ So in all your drunk ness, you decided that you wanted one as well…. And you threw a fit until we took you to get one… So long story short…” He trailed off.

“Really?” I groaned as they all nodded in confirmation. I closed my eyes and sighed, before I turned around. I pulled my shirt away from my body, then groaned again as I noticed the silver piercing glistening in my bra. I heard someone else enter the kitchen.

“Good morning!,” Skip said hugging me from behind, “what did I miss?”


James
I checked the time on my phone for the fiftieth time, then back at the arrivals gate. James is finally coming back today, after being on tour for months. I jumped up and down in anticipation peeking over all the other, taller people waiting in front of me. A few Janoskianators were here too, all of us waiting for our boys to come home. I’d already posed for multiple selfies with them. Suddenly I heard screaming. I looked at the gate, and sure enough there they were. First came Jai, then Beau behind him. I pushed a little further, and waved to them. They grinned when the saw me, and made their ways over.

“Hey Y/N!” They said in unison. I hugged both of them, then did the same to Luke and Daniel as they appeared as well.

“Hi guys! I missed all of you so much!” I talked to them, asking about the tour.

“Y/N I know you’re waiting for James! Don’t worry, he just needs to find his suitcase!” Beau reassured me as I started fidgeting again.

“Urgh I know, it’s just been so long, and I miss him, and-”

“Y/N!!!!!!” I heard him yell from behind me.

“JAMES!” I took off running, as he came out of the gate. We met half way, him lifting me up and spinning me around.

“I missed you so much!!” I said kissing his cheek.

“I know, me too! I love you so much baby!” I hugged him again, taking all of him in.

“Hey I need to show you something!” I remembered excitedly.

“What is it?”

“I got a tattoo…” A smile crept onto his face.

“Really? Where is it?” He asked grinning. I smiled and turned around, lifting my hair out of the way. He gently traced the heart at the back of my neck.

“What does it say inside it?” I grinned even harder.

“It says your name and my name…” I whispered. He turned me around and kissed me again. I smiled into it, glad that he liked it.

“I love you Y/N…”

“I love you James…”

Creepypasta #634: I Used To Hack Baby Monitors. One Night, I Learnt My Lesson.

Story length: Super long

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be.

Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and hung out almost every evening after chow time. We watched prank shows, played video games, talked about who had the nicest rack in school. One evening, we were trading scary stories at the park. Kurt shared the classic story about the single mother who heard a haunting voice on her baby monitor. 

Like most horror stories, it sounded like total bullshit, but Dimitri told us it had happened to his mom once. On her own monitor, she’d heard a neighbour singing to her baby. Apparently, it was possible to accidentally tap into someone else’s frequency. In an instant, a lightbulb turned on in each of our heads. When you’re close enough to someone, you don’t need words to know what that person is thinking, and we could all tell we were thinking the exact same thing: we were going to buy a baby monitor and screw with people.

Pardon the pun, but hacking a baby monitor is child’s play. All you need to do is find a device on the same frequency as yours. Never one to do things half-assed, I purchased a high-end monitor with a frequency dial so we could prank as many targets as possible. 

The following night, we took to our bikes, roamed the neighbourhood, and found our first victim. We could see the nursery from the suburban home’s second floor window. Dimitri grabbed the baby monitor and began tuning it to different frequencies, until we heard breathing. I remember feeling excited as our plan finally came to fruition. Dimitri pressed the button, and began exhaling heavily into the receiver.

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I used to hack baby monitors

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be.

Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and hung out almost every evening after chow time. We watched prank shows, played video games, talked about who had the nicest rack in school. One evening, we were trading scary stories at the park. Kurt shared the classic story about the single mother who heard a haunting voice on her baby monitor. Like most horror stories, it sounded like total bullshit, but Dimitri told us it had happened to his mom once. On her own monitor, she’d heard a neighbour singing to her baby. Apparently, it was possible to accidentally tap into someone else’s frequency. In an instant, a lightbulb turned on in each of our heads. When you’re close enough to someone, you don’t need words to know what that person is thinking, and we could all tell we were thinking the exact same thing: we were going to buy a baby monitor and screw with people.

Keep reading