#THAT MEANS A NEW SEASON IS BOUND TO HAPPEN RIGHT? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

verstappen-cult · 1 month

Text

# WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I WENT TO TOUCH YOU NOW? | CL16

Or. . . 5 times you and Charles reach for the other and are oblivious about it + 1 time you aren’t.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Content Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex. Just two oblivious in love. This one is long, so, prepare yourself, go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. I haven’t written smut in a very long time so don’t expect anything fancy and please be nice. Enjoy! xx

You and Charles can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Everyone can see that. Everyone but you two.

Charles is always reaching for you. He’s the first one leaning in to kiss your cheek as a greeting when you see each other, lingering for a couple of seconds with his cheek against yours, feeling your soft skin, with his hand squeezing your waist ever so slightly. When you are out with your friends he’s always trying to sit by your side, waiting for the right moment to put his arm in the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder and keeping up with the conversation as if nothing is happening. Charles tries to be smooth about it, he really tries.

And you are always reaching for Charles. Well, as his Press Officer it’s your job to be by his side. When you need him to pay attention to you as you’re explaining the plan for the day, you make sure to grab him by his biceps, not letting him go until you are finished, and even then you take a couple of seconds to pull away. Every time you pass each other around the paddock, you always find a way to catch his arm, his shoulder or his waist. Even when he’s too busy and late to something and you don’t actually need him for anything, he makes time for you.

But it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when you would not even dare to think about touching him, too shy and wanting to be professional. It was a little hard when you had to be by his side almost all day, every day. You would try to not look directly at him – impossible to do given that you needed to do your job – but then Charles started to make a few jokes to break the ice and make some conversation, started to ask about your day, he started to care. And, well, the rest is history.

New Year’s isn’t your favorite holiday, so, you spent it at home watching romcoms and went to sleep even before the clock hit midnight. Your friends weren’t happy but you promised to make it up to them. That is why you could not say no when your friends invited you to spend a few days with them on a Ski resort in Italy. Winter break was about to be over, after all. So, you showed up at the train station with all your bags and a little sleep deprived.

“I was about to call the police. I thought you were bailing on us.” Your friend says as a greeting, helping you with your bags. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, thank you, how sweet of you.” You roll your eyes but let her kiss your cheek. “I’ve been a little busy with the new season starting in a couple of weeks.”

“Let’s not talk about work,” You get on the train after her, looking for your seats and the rest of the group. “we actually told the same thing to Charles.”

You’re about to ask her what does she mean by that when you see the brown hair of Charles Leclerc. The next thing you see is his smile, dimples on display.

Since you started working with Charles as Media — then when you were promoted to PR Officer — there has not been a day you two haven't been together or communicating one way or another. So, anyone can say that becoming friends was bound to happen.

You make your way to him without a second thought.

"Hey, Charlie." Charles moves to the side, leaving the spot beside him free for you to sit. Which you immediately do.

"Are you excited?" He asks, turning his whole attention to you.

You have to look away, his green eyes looking at you so intensely that you feel he can see right through you into your soul.

"I've never skied before." You admit, cheeks flushed.

Charles' eyebrows shot up, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Oh, you're gonna have so much fun."

The train starts moving, making you both look outside. You weren't planning on sitting with Charles, but you're not gonna stand up and leave him. Not that you actually want that.

You're about to ask him about the place you're going to spend the next days in when a yawn messes up everything.

Charles smiles softly at you, his hand patting your knee. He leaves it there for one, two, three, four seconds before removing it.

"It's not that far, really. But you could—" He clears his throat, eyes darting around. "I've been told my shoulder is the best spot to take a nap. It’s like very comfortable." Charles has a teasing but shy smile on his face, gaze finally landing on you.

You feel your face burning. You don't even need to look at yourself in a mirror to know how red your face is, probably the same color as his racing suit.

You look between his shoulder and his eyes, pretending to think about it when, in reality, you've made up your mind the second he stopped talking.

"I don't wa—"

Charles shakes his head, moving a little closer until your left side is touching his right one, not a breeze could pass between you.

You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your head rest on his shoulder. His scent hits you immediately, is calming, warm, earthy. And it reminds you of the cabin in the woods you and your family used to spend winters in when you were a kid. Surrounded by tall, green trees and a still lake.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Charles resting his head on top of yours.

"I can't do it. No, nope." You say, trying to move away, but the skis don't let you go that far.

"Yes, you can." Charles says from behind, startling you. You weren't expecting him to stay behind with you and your Ski instructor. "Just— let me." He tells the instructor, urging him to move out of the way.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you the basics,” He explains casually, as if you don’t have a certified instructor waiting a few meters away.

You smile when he positions himself by your side, too busy trying to make you stand correctly to notice how fondly you're looking at him.

"So, you need to bend your knees a little," You don't know if he notices, but his hands finding your waist to help you move just like he wants you to, send a shiver down your body. You can feel his warmth even through the layers of clothes. "Just like that, yes. You're doing great." Can he shut up? If he's going to praise you every time you do something right, you're not going to survive.

You look over your shoulder when you hear your friend's voices. You catch the exact moment they see you two and stop walking to turn around and go back to where they were before.

"Now, lean forward." Charles instructs you and you follow. Trying to regulate your breathing but with Charles so close to you is an impossible task. "Amazing!" You just leaned. It’s not that hard. "I need to— um... excuse me." He whispers, lowering one of his hand to your thigh and spreading your legs a little. When Charles looks up, his cheeks are tinted with a pretty pink color. You know you're blushing too.

Charles keeps on teaching you the basics. You even move a few meters with him by your side, his hands on your waist at all times.

"You're ready." The Monégasque says, smiling. "You are a fast learner, is she not?" From the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he asks the instructor, who is immediately moving closer.

"Of course," The man says, a polite smile directed at you. "Now we can slide down the mountain. And I'm going to be by your side at all times, so, you don’t need to worry."

You nod, excited to start skiing. Finally.

"You can go, Mr. Leclerc." The Italian man says. But Charles doesn’t move, he just keeps on looking at you, hands still on your waist. At this point you feel like they belong there. “Uh, Mr. Leclerc?” He insists. This time Charles looks at him, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes! Sure, yeah.” Charles pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind. “You’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll survive, Charlie.” He makes you chuckle. “I had a pretty good instructor and I have another one ready to catch me if I fall.”

It looks like Charles wants to say something else but chooses not to and, instead, looks at you one final time before sliding down the mountain.

“So, let’s go?” Your instructor positions himself by your side in the same spot Charles was before.

He doesn’t touch you like Charles did. And you don’t feel as safe as you felt with Charles by your side.

It’s Ferrari SF-24 Launch day. Winter's break is over and Charles is back in Maranello.

Charles hasn’t seen you since yesterday evening, after spotting you having dinner with members of the PR team and, without thinking so much about it, walked into the restaurant. Someone invited him and he didn't hesitate to grab a chair and sit by your side.

It was a very pleasant dinner. And Charles didn't let anyone pay for it.

You said your goodbyes after that and you made sure to remind him that he needed to be before 8:00 AM for the launch, and to have time to go over all the details of what Charles needed to do that day.

That’s most definitely the only explanation as to why Charles is getting out of his car at 7:15 in the morning. Not because he wants to see you, of course not. It’s just because he has a lot of things to do. It’s an important day, after all.

“Good morning.” Charles greets some people of the team that are passing by, rushing to get everything ready for the launch in less than an hour.

He’s in a good mood. He just knows it’s going to be a great day. Charles also knows it’s gonna be his year.

"You're early."

Charles turns around at the sound of your voice. He finds you checking the time on your watch, a teasing smile adorning those plump, pink lips of yours.

"You said before eight."

You laugh, walking down the hallway. "Yeah, but not so early." He follows you, trying to catch up with you. "However, I'm glad you decided to show up on time, we have a lot to do."

"I wanna go back to sleep." He complains, pouting like a child.

He makes you laugh, again. Charles thinks your laugh is his favorite sound in the world. Beside the sound of the SF-24.

Charles really likes to make you laugh.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?" He pretends to be offended, and you mimic the sound of his voice, bringing your hand to your chest.

"Me? Never!"

"You sure?" He stops walking, stopping right in front of you. "Because you know what I'm gonna do if you're actually laughing at me?"

You look at him suspiciously, fighting the smile that wants to make its way into your face.

Charles takes a step towards you, making you take a step back.

"Charles, whatever you're thinking—don't."

"What? I'm not doing anything!" He sounds innocent, even raising his hands in surrender. But he's still walking towards you, shortening the distance until he's so close you can count the freckles on his face.

Before you notice what's happening, he's tickling you.

It makes you throw all the things you had on your hands to the floor. You try to pull away and make him stop, but he just keeps going.

Your laugh fills the hallway you're currently in.

But you can't take it anymore, your stomach hurting for laughing so much. It’s also only a matter of time before someone comes to see what's happenig, so, you do the only thing your brain can conjure up to make him stop: hit him. Even if it's just a little push.

You raise your arms, ready to push him and defend yourself. But Charles reflexes are good and so fast, because before you can do anything, he's grabbing your wrists stopping you.

Your laugh dies in your throat.

Charles amusement is clear on his face, eyes shining with mirth.

"You are," You take a deep breath, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. "a very bad man."

He laughs, throwing his head backwards. "I'm just defending my honor, boss."

You shake your head, throwing daggers at him with your eyes. But Charles doesn’t react at all, he just caresses the inside of your wrists with his thumb.

“I promise to behave if you don’t laugh at me again.” He pouts, and your heart does a black flip inside your chest, skipping several beats.

Hesitantly, you reach out to rest a hand on his chest, giving him a little playful push. You’re not sure if you imagine the shiver you feel under your hand or if it really happens.

You chuckle, looking straight into his eyes. “I can’t make that promise.”

Charles lets go of your wrists against his will. He bends over to pick up the things you were carrying, but doesn’t give them back to you.

“If we end up getting scolded, I’m blaming you.”

Charles looks at you for what feels like hours, taking you in. He really thinks he could just watch you all day and he’d find a new freckle on your face, or a glint in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He leans in, so, so close, that feels your breath hitch. Charles thinks you’re gonna pull away for a second but you don’t make a move, you just keep looking at him with a indescribable expression.

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll take it.” He says in your ear, kissing your cheek before pulling away.

You stop breathing, all you can do is blink at him while your mind echoes his words.

“Shall we?”

Charles doesn’t wait for you, he resumes his walking anyway. It takes you a long time to snap out of it and follow him.

You can’t even remember what you are supposed to be doing today.

It’s day two of pre-season testing in Bahrain.

You’re in the middle of talking with a reporter about the questions he can ask Charles when you are interrupted by a hand being placed on your lower back. You immediately recognize the perfume.

"Hey, I was looking for you." Charles says, fingers caressing the spot between your shirt and your trousers. His calloused hand drawing patters on your lower back shouldn't make you feel as flustered as you feel. It's not the first time he does it, so why can't you just act normal?

"Hey, Charles." The reporter says, drawing the Monégasque's attention. "Can I ask you just a few questions about second day of testing?" He doesn't need to ask him, you already agreed about it.

Charles look at you, silently asking if it's okay.

"Just testing, okay?" You tell the reporter, who nods in understanding, already moving in front of Charles alongside his camera man.

Charles squeezes your waist before giving two pats on your lower back, so low that he's almost touching your ass. You eyes widen and you take a sharp intake of breath. You really try to play it cool. But you can tell Charles noticed your reaction when you see the smirk on his beautiful, stupid face.

The reporter begins with the first question, Charles' eyes only snapping to him when the man draws his attention.

You don't listen to one single question, which is, you know, an idiotic mistake because being alert of what a reporter's asking is basically your job. But you find yourself looking at Charles' lips more than one time during the six minutes the interview lasts.

You can't do nothing more than to stand there frozen in place.

The reporter thanks Charles, that much you hear, but you still can't seem to snap back to the present. What is Charles doing? He's being extra touchy lately, not that it bothers you, but you can't seem to focus in anything when he has a hand on any part of your body. Then, add that intense gaze that, apparently, has reserved for you only.

Charles is definitely going to be the death of you.

"You seem to have your head in the clouds." Charles' accented voice is what draws you back to reality.

"What?"

What he does next is definitely something you were not expecting, not now, not even in a million years.

Charles cups your chin with his right hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. If you weren't hyper aware of every little movement, you wouldn't have felt it.

Your gaze drops to his lips and Charles has the nerve to stick his tongue out to lick his lips. They look so wet and inviting, all you need to do is move an inch closer and lean in to—

"See something you like?"

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, so loud you're pretty sure everyone in Bahrain can hear it. Charles waits for your answer as you panic, replaying his words over, and over again for minutes or hours — you don't even know.

You take Charles' hand and guide it away from your face. It takes all the willpower inside of you to let go of his hand and run away from him.

It wasn't a great start of the season. Everyone agrees on that. Even the boy stepping out of the Ferrari, who started the first race of the season in front row and had such a hard time trying to drive and secure a spot on the podium.

You are glad at least one Ferrari got there in the end. But you're not as happy as you'd be if Charles was the one standing there.

Charles takes his helmet and balaclava off, his messy hair standing in every direction while sweat runs down his face. You force yourself to look away.

He makes his way to you, given that you have his cap and rings. Charles really tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You know how disappointed he is. With himself and his team. Mostly with himself.

“Just a few questions and then you’ll be on your way to the hotel, okay?” Charles just nods, busy putting all his rings and bracelets on.

Charles feels like shit. All he wants to do is go back to the hotel and sleep, he doesn't even want to know what happened or how they can fix it for next week. He wants to sleep.

"Hey," You stand a little closer, not thinking about anything but trying to make him talk, say anything to pull him out of his head. "It's just the first race of the season. There are a lot more to go." You rub the back of his neck, feeling the hairs there stand up.

Charles closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward. So, you take it as a good sing to keep rubbing and massaging.

Charles groans when you rub between his neck and shoulder, a very sensitive spot for him. He slowly opens his eyes again, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes.

"Come on, let's finish with this and get you to bed." You tentatively slide your hand over his shoulder and left side of his body, stopping at his waist to wrap an arm around it.

For the first time since the race finished, you see a smile forming on his lips. When you make eye contact, you know he has the perfect answer for it and, for the looks of it, it's definitely going to leave you flustered.

"If you wanted me in your bed that badly, all you had to do was ask."

It definitely makes you flush furiously, but you decide not to say anything. Mostly because you don't know what to say. Charles has been saying all these things for a very long time now and you don't know what it means, what he's playing at.

You let go of Charles when you reach the reporter, moving a little to the side to give them some space. The reporter knows what to ask but you still are on high alert, she's known for asking rude and out of place questions.

At first everything goes alright, so, you use that time to answer some messages and check out some emails. Until what the woman says next, makes your heart drop.

"You say you are capable, but it is your fault alm—" You don't let her finish, you interrupt the interview immediately by standing in front of Charles, like trying to shield him from the hurtful words of an unprofessional reporter.

"I'll make sure you receive a fine for that." It's all you say before blindly reaching for Charles.

You take his hand, dragging him out of there. You don't stop for nothing, not when a reporter asks for an interview, not when fans approach Charles to ask for pictures.

You keep walking and walking until you are in front of Charles' driver room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"I'm going to talk to—"

Charles grabs your shoulders, turning you around so you're looking at him. "Don't worry about it. You know I don't care about what they say."

His words make you angry.

"But I care!" You exclaim, immediately regretting it. The corners of Charles' mouth go downwards, and he steps closer. "She deserves that fine."

"I know she deserves it and she will get it," His hands trail over your arms, stopping at your wrists for a second before holding your hands. "but right now I need a hug."

You blink up at him.

"Would you hug me?"

He doesn't need to ask twice. You are moving before you actually process his words, probably because you've been thinking about hugging him since the first time he announced over the radio how the brakes where not responding to him.

Sliding your hand around his shoulders comes like a second nature to you, like is something you've done your whole life. You don't care that he's drenched in sweat, you hide your face in the crook of his neck anyways. And it's then that you learn how much you like the mixture of his scent with the sweat of racing for over two hours.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against his body. It's then that he learns how well you fit against his body. Like you belong there. He knows you belong in his arms.

Charles finished third.

It's his first podium of the season.

You wait by the side but he doesn't see you. He has the most pretty and bright smile on his face as he removes the balaclava from his head. He has the most pretty and bright smile when he greets and congratulates Max and Checo.

And you really think that his smiles widens when he finally looks to the side, right where you are alongside his Ferrari team.

Charles makes his way to his team. Everyone is so happy cheering for him and congratulating him for his first podium. Everyone is happy.

But no one can't he as happy as you are.

Not when he sees you for the first time and rushes to hug you. It's quick, not enough, but they're pulling him away for the post-race interview. He needs to go up on that podium and make everyone proud.

You’re pretty sure you took like a dozen pictures of Charles on the podium. The ones where he's looking down at his team are your favorites because it looks like he's looking at you.

Post-race Charles is your favorite kind of Charles. But post-race Charles on the podium... that has to be what being in heaven feels like.

You laugh as you see him approaching hospitality with his trophy and champagne, and a broad smile spread over his face.

He's surrounded by people in a matter of seconds, as wells as Ollie by his side who can't seem to stop smiling. You're very proud of them.

When you see a few reporters approaching, you take into action.

The second Charles sees you, he's forgetting about anything and everyone around him. All he wants is to hug you and tell you how well and right it felt, but there are so many people that he has to settle with you grabbing the hem of his race suit to make him walk into hospitality, away from everyone.

"Go take a shower. Your team wants to celebrate, even Carlos wants to go." You smile up at him.

You don't know how to describe the expression on his face, so, you simply don't.

He snaps out of a his trance and makes his way to his driver room, but when you call his name he stops, turning around so fast that his neck starts to hurt.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie."

Charles doesn't care if the trophy or the champagne bottle breaks, he just let them fall to the floor and runs to you, lifting you in his arms.

You giggle, feeling light as a feather. Like you're actually on cloud nine.

"Charlie!" Andrea's voice startles the both of you.

You are forced to pull away, but Charles leaves his hand on your waist, not letting you go completely.

"Come on, hurry up! We want to celebrate."

Andrea doesn't bat an eye, he doesn't care that he found you and Charles in a compromising position — kind of? well, it definitely is unprofessional — and that you still are very close to each other.

Charles groans and lets you go. You miss his touch already.

"Don't drink too much, okay?"

"As if I would let him." Andrea says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a grown man!" Charles screams before shutting the door of his room.

You're watching a movie in bed — wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, freshly out of the shower, with a delicious lotion on your body and feeling like a pampered baby — when there's a knock on your door.

When you open the door, you find a disheveled and out of breathe Charles standing there, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Charles?" You ask, confused.

You look to both sides of the hallway but nobody else is there.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out celebrating."

"I was—" He says, breathing heavily. "I was but then I just — I realized that I didn't want to be there."

"Okay?" You're not getting any of what he's saying, more confused than ever. "Are you drunk?"

"No! I barely drank anything. It was just a glass."

"Then," You shrug, looking behind you into the room. "I was watching a movie. Do you... want to come in?"

You still don't know why he knocked on your door, but you are not letting him out in the hallway.

Charles accepts the invitation. Just not in the way you would've thought.

It takes you a second to notice a pair soft lips against your own. But when you finally register that you are being kissed, Charles is pulling away from you, a shy smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to find some coherent words in your fuzzy brain.

Charles' face falls, shoulder slumping slightly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." He starts rambling, moving his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly. I thought—we had, I mean... You and—"

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to take him out of his misery. That's definitely the only reason why you crashed your lips with his, pressing yourself against his body.

Charles moves quickly, walking you backwards into the room and closing the door with his foot.

You sigh into the kiss. A sigh that says finally.

"I think," You whisper against his lips, gasping for air. But Charles keeps on assaulting your lips. "we should talk ab—"

Charles groans pulling away, just enough to talk, lips brushing against yours with every breath. "We could. Or I could show you all the things I've been dreaming on doing to you, and we can talk later."

Your heart starts thumping so fast that your breath hitches in your throat. Charles takes your silence, and your body's reaction, as a yes.

This time, Charles takes his time. He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone so softly — as if you’re made of glass and could break at any moment — and sliding lower, the pad of his finger brushing against your bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, gaze fixed on your plump lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since…” You try try to think about it, to remember the very first time you thought about Charles being more than a friend. But it seems like it has always been that way.

“Forever.” Charles finishes for you.

Yes! Your insides scream.

“Would you let me show you?”

You frown, titling your hear to the side. “What?”

“How much I want you.”

There’s no need to verbally say yes, you find that is so much better if you show him. So, you kiss him.

Kissing Charles feels like walking in a soft, pillowy cloud, like everything is falling back into place, like things are how they always should have been.

There is warmth blossoming in your chest, fireworks exploding all around you as Charles leans in closer, lips exploring each other for the first time. You hold onto Charles' shoulder as if you're gonna fall and wake up, realize that this was just a dream. You don't want it to be a dream.

You let him guide you to the bed as his hands rest on your hips, wrinkling the bathrobe with his hands.

His lips are soft yet the kiss is demanding. Your lips part slightly, allowing Charles' tongue to slip inside and explore your mouth.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pulls away. His pupils are dilated and his breathing erratic. "You don't—" He sighs, closing his eyes as if trying and ground himself. Charles takes your hand, silently asking for permission and, when you nod, guides it to his crotch, making you feel how hard he is. "You don't even know the effect you have on me."

Charles doesn't give you time to answer, not even to think about anything but how much you want to kiss him, and feel him, and be his.

"Can I unfasten this?" He asks, lips trailing kisses down your neck. You nod your approval, but Charles shakes his head. "I need words, baby."

"Yes," You don't recognize your own voice, it's feels strange to your ears. "Yes, you can."

Charles smiles, grazing his teeth along your neck, nipping and sucking along the way. You moan when he sucks right above your pulse point.

He takes his time unfastening your bathrobe, letting it fall slowly the floor. In seconds, you're completely bare in front of him. You should feel ashamed, a part of you actually feels embarrassed to be naked in front on a man — in front of Charles. But right now, desire and longing are coursing through your veins, clouding your mind. Your body screams for Charles.

Charles hands are soft on your skin, he splays them on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart; it makes him smile.

"Would you lay down for me?" He purrs. And who are you to say no?

With shaky legs you climb onto the bed, lying down against the pillows. You can still hear the movie playing in the background, but you couldn't care less, not right now.

You can only watch as Charles removes every piece of clothing from his body. You knew Charles was well toned, you have seen Charles without a shirt, but seeing him here in your room, in a whole different context, makes you close your legs and lift your hips from the bed, searching for something, anything that only Charles can give you.

He rubs his hands up your legs, rubbing your thighs, as he climbs on top of you. His lips find yours one more time, your breath quivering.

"So pretty." Charles grunts, basking in your beauty. It lasts only a couple of seconds because you hide behind your hands. "No need to hide, baby." He pulls your hands away, sliding them over your collarbone, stopping on your chest and grabbing your breasts.

You arch your back against his touch, moans spilling from your mouth and filling the room.

"So good, so, so good." You blurt out, getting lost in the pleasure his hands are giving you, pinching and squeezing your breasts. One of his hands is replaced for his mouth, and you have to force yourself to open your eyes to see the view of Charles on top of you, making you come undone with his mouth.

His left hand leaves your breast as his mouth keeps the assault on your breast, he slowly lowers it to part your legs, making you squirm.

You've never been this wet before, and Charles notices the moment his fingers make contact with your cunt. Charles begins to rub circles on your throbbing clit, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"Please," You beg, the only word leaving your lips over and over again.

Charles takes pity on you, knowing exactly what you need. So, he gives it to you; one of his fingers slips in, causing you to buck your hips involuntarily.

"So good for me." Charles croons, taking your lips with his own, swallowing all your moans. "You think you can take my cock, pretty girl?" He asks, slipping in another finger, pressing them upward. Your brain feels fuzzy, but in such a good way. You don't need to be asked twice, a yes leaves you lips immediately as you grind your hips desperately into his hand.

"I can, Charles—please I can take it." You moan, making Charles slow his movements.

Charles pulls out his fingers, and you whine desperately at the loss. "I got you, baby." But then a thought crosses his mind and he curses under his breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't—shit I don't have a condom."

You make grabby hands, making him lean forward so you can touch him. You cup his face with your hands, eyes finding his green ones. There's sweat on his forehead, his face flushed, and you think that post-race Charles and bedroom Charles are definitely battling to win first place.

"We're both clean, I know." You graze your fingers over his pecs, making him shudder. "Just—please, Charlie. I need you."

Who is he to say no to you?

The mere thought of fucking you bare is enough to send his mind reeling.

Charles aligns himself between your legs, the tip of his cock gathering your wetness and making you both moan at the feeling.

You dig your nails in his shoulder as he slowly starts to bury himself inside of you. Charles leans to kiss you, and is messy and wet, tongues and spit mix together as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him moan against your mouth. So you do it again.

Charles kisses you with so much desperation, desire consuming you both. He bottoms out and you can't reciprocate the kiss anymore, not when he stars slamming his hips, setting an agonizing pace.

Charles fucks you into the bed wincing as he feels you bite his shoulder, a poor attempt of trying not to scream and let the whole hotel floor know what you are doing.

"How does it feel? Is that what you wanted, uh?" He groans, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face.

"Yeah, feels so good, Char. So good." Your whole body is burning, you feel so deliciously filled.

Charles bends your legs, pushing them against your chest as he finds a new angle to keep on fucking you. He starts thrusting faster, holding onto your legs so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

It's too much. You don't even have time nor words to warn him before you are coming, clenching around Charles' cock.

"So tight. So. Fucking. Tight." Charles whispers, pace faltering as he feels his own climax approaching. He keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess, and you let Charles use you as much as he likes, you let it know that over and over again.

"That's it, baby. 'm gonna come now," Those are Charles' final words as he pulls out, pumping himself a few more times until he's painting your chest with his cum.

Charles plops down on the bed next to you, both panting and completely exhausted.

"Are you okay?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

You turn to look at him, fingers playing with his cum on your chest. The only thing you can do is nod, too exhausted to even to talk.

"What? Did I fuck your brains out?" Charles teases, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. It's so innocent and soft, the total opposite of what you did just moments ago.

"Shut up!" You breathe out, giggling. There is still a buzzing in your ears and a tingling sensation in your cunt. But you feel good.

"Come on," He says, standing up and reaching for your hands.

You frown, standing on shaky legs. He teases you some more and you end up pushing him away.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking a bath," He explains, tugging at your hand. "We need to clean you up."

"I just took a shower, this is all your fault." You complain, his green eyes boring into you.

"You liked it." It's not a question.

He tugs at your hand again and you follow, you really would follow Charles to the end of the world. Charles can't hide the big, stupid smile on his face. "You said you were watching a movie, so, we are going to watch a movie."

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 grid x reader

674 notes · View notes

floralcavern · 1 month

Text

This fandom seriously just… frustrates me to the point where I’m writing this rant.

This fandom does not understand flawed and complex characters.

And, uh. Let’s talk about that.

How they treat David and Exer:

The amount of bias this fandom holds for Exer and David is astounding. “Oh, the gay boys! They’re so sweet and wouldn’t hurt anyone!” (Paraphrasing, obviously, but this fandom does seriously put them on a pedestal)

When David and Exer were introduced, from very early on, they were shown to be heavily flawed characters.

Exer is responsible for the entire story. He tricked Jackson to going to the girl’s changing room, which is what kicked off everything. Jackson getting bullied and harassed, Jackson eventually having his name cleared, Jackson not trusting the REDs, Jackson eventually learning about Exer’s powers, Exer having his powers found out, etc. This all started because Exer fucked with Jackson. He gaslit him to hell and back, he harassed him, he was jealous that Jackson was getting close with Brenda, his ex who he felt very possessive over.

And David? David is a follower. He hears people saying “Jackson did something bad” and he immediately turned on Jackson, not hearing him out. Gossiping about him, talking shit to his face, letting people bully and harass him. And I understand that it was his sister, so he’s bound to feel more protective. But what happens when he learns it was actually Pamela who was ‘harassed’ by Jackson? He doesn’t care.

And that moves me to David and Exer’s treatment of Pamela. Exer, like with Jackson, gaslit the shit out of her. He bullied her, called her a witch, called her creepy and a stalker and a liar. And he did this even though he knew she was right. He let people bully this poor girl to the point where she’s a loner with no friends and is picked on every day.

I’m not saying Exer isn’t a good character. He actually has one of my favorite character arcs! But quit putting David and Exer on pedestals. Quit acting like they didn’t have any of the bad shit Jackson’s did to them coming.

Speaking of Jackson…:

Holy shit. This fandom is ruthless to Jackson Smith. And for no gosh damn reason.

“He’s mean to Exer and David!”

Did you miss the whole ‘Exer and David harassing him in the same way they did to Pamela’ thing? They literally ruined all of his friendships and his social status. Jackson was just the new kid trying to fit in and they never gave him that chance.

“He’s so emo and cringe!”

He is literally so depressed that he has to go to therapy. Exer and David bullied him so he is constantly guarded and has serious trust issues since they were his friends.

“He’s using the diary to control Exer’s life and ruin it!”

Season 3 premier shows otherwise. He’s only testing out the diary to see what it can do. You telling me that if you didn’t have a magical diary that can control the universe centered around someone, you wouldn’t test it out? Don’t you lie to me. And he hasn’t even done anything horrible. In fact, he uses the diary as a way to try and help Exer and David after William kicked David out of the house. He may not like Exer, but he has good morals. He’s not going to let someone who is suffering be open to any harm. That’s why he used the diary to try and protect them both. And when it backfired, he decided to stop using the diary. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt or for anything bad to happen.

“He beat up David!”

There we go again, putting Exer and David on pedestals. Guys, you’re blowing it way outta proportion. Jackson was in a fist fight with Exer, David tried to intervene and got kicked in the face. You know how people tell you don’t try to stop two dogs fighting unless you want to get bit? That’s what happened here.

Jackson is literally just a traumatized kid. He lost his mom at a young age g age and moved to a new place and was hoping to make some new friends. His ‘friends’ immediately turn their backs on him and harass him. He learns one of them is behind everything that caused this? Ya, don’t tell me you wouldn’t be fucking pissed either.

We are the audience. We have more insight to these character’s mind and situations than Jackson does. Put yourself into his perspective.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Make sure to pet Lucy-furr on your way out.

#Jackson’s diary #Jackson smith #exer campbell #david miller #pamela lopez #Rant #fandom rant

81 notes · View notes

interlunium-opus · 10 months

Text

►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #003 [Sunghoon.]

Previous Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002

Abstract: Juxtaposing the way your town was beginning to get a new lease on life after the authorities finally found the culprit behind your town's recent serial killings, your life was fraying at the edges instead as you still had to continue battling your inner demons on the daily – from nightly terrors to random flashes of visions – the latter of which, for mysterious reasons, seemed to only happen when you are face-to-face with Park Sunghoon, the bane of your existence. The more distraught you were over it all, the more convinced you were to get to the bottom of it, even if it means wreaking hell with the bane of your existence and waltzing with him in a game of his own making. You knew you were treading dangerous waters in doing so but you figured, if your days are numbered, then you'd rather go down fighting, dragging him down with you. But with the line between hate and love being thin, someone is bound to slip up soon, thereby threatening to ensnare the both of you deeper into the tangled web that Sunghoon had spun for you in the first place. ⌈ Do check out the previous parts here ‣ #001 | ‣ #002 ⌋

Warnings: blood; violence; injuries (some are self-inflicted); suggestiveness (some are forced); mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation; toxicity; trauma.

— i

“That’s a pretty heavy topic for a light read,” Jungwon who was trailing behind you, remarked, eyes fixated on the book you were holding, “that book is about Trauma right? I know you like reading but it’s deadline season so I doubt you’re picking this up for leisure reading. I don’t think it relates to any of your modules either. Is everything alright y/n?”

No, you thought to yourself, nothing is. Juxtaposing the way your town was beginning to get a new lease on life after the authorities finally found the culprit behind the serial killings, your life was fraying at the edges as you continue to battle your inner demons on the daily – from nightly terrors to random flashes of visions – the latter of which, for mysterious reasons, seemed to only happen when you are face-to-face with Park Sunghoon, the bane of your existence.

The more you ruminated about how your life has seemingly turned awry, the more perplexing it all becomes. In fact, if your life was a jigsaw puzzle, it would be the kind where none of the remaining puzzle pieces that have been left fit the gaps, which gives you either a distorted picture if you force it, or an incomplete picture, if you leave it be – none of which is ideal. Not when the gaps were having such a debilitating effect on your life from the dizzy spells, anaemia, visions, to nightly terrors.

Perplexingly, the more you pondered about each gap, the more it can be traced to Park Sunghoon. The most jarring of all in particular was the gaps in your memories of that evening when you last worked with Sunghoon – after which, everything seemed to take a weird turn, though not immediately. It was only in hindsight that you were able to see how the disjointed oddities seem to be cascading: the memory gaps; your sudden deteriorating health; Sunghoon’s sudden shift in behaviour; your nightly terrors; and your distorted visions. Taken together, you couldn’t help but quell the sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach that perhaps the ill-fitting puzzle pieces in your life weren’t natural at all – that they were purposefully tampered upon. That everything has been orchestrated. That you have been toyed around like a rat in a maze.

It even sometimes occurred to you that perhaps the said maze had been his in the first place – though you can never for the life of you figure out how and why would he go through such lengths.

Hence why you’ve been battling tooth and arms for the popular book in your hand. A book on trauma that perhaps could shed light as to why your mind has been going haywire; why your memories did not seem like they were yours; and why you feel so inexplicably haunted – as if you’re forgetting something, as if a danger is looming, as if Park Sunghoon is someone you should be wary of for more ominous reasons instead of just for his prowess at catching and breaking hearts.

“You know you can trust me right?” Jungwon murmured softly, bringing you back to reality. You felt him coming up behind you, his chest pressing against your back as he reached over towards the self-checkout machine, offering to help you instead since you had begun to space out. You edged away slightly, giving him some space – still not used to how excessively attentive and tactile Yang Jungwon has been as of late.

Now, Jungwon has indeed always been a chivalrous lad but his actions, gazes and touches back then were never excessive – it was always strictly and unmistakably cordial that there would be no room to overthink nor misunderstand the meaning of it. As of late however you couldn’t help but notice how every touch and gaze linger a tad bit too long that you couldn’t help but feel increasingly apprehensive of something bubbling underneath. It’s all in your head, you would try to convince yourself sometimes, feeling guilty of being so suspicious of someone that has offered nothing but constant help and comfort to you as of late.

“I know,” you softly muttered back, “I can’t trust myself though.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he smiled reassuringly, his voice ever so gentle and soft, “because I do.”

You smiled back almost automatically, eventually relenting especially under the weight of his compelling gaze. “Well, it’s nothing serious really. Just a recurring nightmare that’s debilitating,” you mumbled, carefully weighing each word so as not to overshare, “I would have just ignored it but I feel like its recurrence is starting to distort my perception. It didn’t help that the place, the man, the feeling, all felt familiar – as if it had been a memory that is replayed rather than just a dream conjured. Anyway, I uh, just wanted to check if they could mean something psychologically because I’ve read before that traumas can manifests itself in the form of nightmares too.”

“Like in PTSD sufferers?” he sympathized, “It's possible. You did after all underwent a near death experience in campus.”

“Yeah…” you murmured, slightly surprised to hear him reference the case you experienced in campus which you were sure only Heeseung knew of. But then again, you reassured yourself, Jungwon worked part-time as a guard so it’s possible that it’s something made known to them for safety measures. You then noticed his attention shifting away from your eyes towards you neck, brows knitting in recognition of something, “that mark, how did you-” his hand begin to reach up, ghosting over your neck when you guys were sorely interrupted by a booming, jovial voice.

“Good evening lovebirds, hope we’re not intruding.”

You two immediately snapped your head towards the direction of the voice, startled, as if you two had been walked into while doing something incriminating. It was Jake Sim, the Student Union’s Head of Sports, tugging on his sleeve to show you guys the Burgundy-coloured arm band he was wearing which signify that he was on patrol duty. Trailing behind him was, of course, Park Sunghoon.

“It’s 15 minutes until the start of the curfew,” Jake announced as he approached you both before turning his attention squarely towards you, “just want to make sure this lady right here won’t overstay.”

“I guess I must have a bounty over my head with the way you and your little gang are always up in my business,” you muttered flatly as you shot Sunghoon a brief accusatory glance, “I was just leaving.”

“Pretty sure your friend here," Jungwon suddenly spoke up, eyes flitting to Sunghoon, then back to Jake, "-isn't part of the Student Union. Surely you're not reprimanding someone but turning a blind eye to your own best friend ? that would be low of you Jake Sim."

You pressed your lips together to quell the amusement and satisfaction that was quickly blooming over your face. As expected from the poster boy of chivalry and valour in campus, you thought to yourself as you give Jungwon a brief look of admiration.

“Oh don’t worry, I was just leaving as well,” Sunghoon calmly replied though the brief tightening of his jaw seem to indicate that the comment didn’t miss the mark. Suddenly he turned to you, “since they both have to make the last sweep before curfew, it’s just us then. Shall we head out together?”

“I can head out alone just fine,” you replied him curtly and bid Jungwon a quick goodbye, before turning on your heel and exiting the main hall, taking the back corridor towards the back exit instead in hopes that you wouldn’t have to deal with Sunghoon anymore.

Except as you descended down the stairs, you could hear footsteps following you. You rolled your eyes and picked up your pace, knowing exactly who it was.

“Aren’t you walking too fast right now? Scared of the curfew or scared of me?” Sunghoon asked, the amusement in his voice audible. You ignored him, pushing past a series of glass doors that separated the corridors, hoping that one of them would have slammed him right in the face.

“You seem pretty chummy with that cat-eye lad,” he started again, “Do you have a thing for men who resemble animals or something? first your fox-looking guard dog then this cat-looking –“

“Park Sunghoon, get lost,” you hissed as you turned around abruptly, having had enough of him pestering you. To your surprise, despite the sound of his footsteps, he was actually just a few steps away from you which caught you off guard as he almost crashed onto you the moment you turned around. Not that it bothered him though for he just grinned slyly, satisfied to have incited a reaction from you.

“Aren’t you being too cold to me?” he raised his brows, waving a blue book in his hand – the book you had just loaned out and should have been safely tucked in your zipped backpack, “you actually dropped this and I was just trying to give it back to you.”

You furrowed your brows in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment as you make a grab for the book, only for him to retract his hand back, “Oh? I thought you wanted me to get lost?”

“Give it back,” you demanded.

“Say it nicely,” he taunted, biting his lips to suppress the grin that was blooming across his lips.

You scoffed thinking how you should have known better. “Over my dead body,” you spat as you backed away, your patience thinning, “you know what? you can have it. I’d rather pay the penalty fee.”

With that you turned back and marched towards the exit door hoping that that would have offended him enough to leave you alone. Except this was Park Sunghoon we are talking about and if there is anything you can predict about him is that he will always act the opposite of what you expect and anticipate – like a true contrarian.

As you swung the door open, Sunghoon had caught up to you, and in just swift motions, he reached over and slammed the door back close – drawing parallels to the scene at the beginning of your nightmare when the door was shut close too as soon as you swung it open. Like a memory trigger, memories of your nightmare flooded in – filling you with a sense of confusion. You turned around, about to tell him off, only to be unnerved by how close he was, dwarfing over you in such a menacing way – again drawing parallels to your nightmare when you were backed up by a faceless man.

“For someone who is always running into dangerous situations, you sure still run your mouth freely y/n,” he chided threateningly in a low voice. Shivers went down your spine as your back pressed onto the cold glass behind you though you weren’t sure if it was the contact that made you shudder or was it the way Sunghoon loomed ominously before you with the dimmed lighting accentuating the steeliness of his expressions and the gravity of his commanding gaze.

You start to feel a lump in your throat, feeling your mind raking for memories that you weren’t even sure were there as if it was trying to warn you that something similar had unfolded beyond the realms of dreams before – of which didn’t end well. Still, always too brave for your own good, you refused to show any signs of fear as your stared back up into his increasingly paralyzing stare, almost as if challenging him.

In the midst of all the confusion, a dangerous and risky thought brewed in your mind. If Sunghoon really have anything to do with your hallucinations and even nightmares, you figured that you should be able to trigger it as per the previous cases when somehow being close to him seemed to have set it off. Thus, as if you two hadn’t been unnecessarily close in proximity already, you did the unthinkable as your hands reached up towards him, grabbing his collar and pulling him down towards you, catching the ever-so-inscrutable Park Sunghoon totally off-guard. His brows knitted in a mixture of confusion and alarm, his Adam’s apple bobbing – looking uncharacteristically unnerved, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, seething, as he gripped your wrist, his nails digging onto your skin painfully that you were sure it’d leave a mark.

A familiar sense of forebode soon rose from every small detail you see and every little sensation you felt: from the way he looked down murderously at you, to the way gripped your wrist, to the way the fabric of his shirt felt under your clutch. It was all starting to evoke that sickening feeling of déjà vu that is almost too heavy and ominous that it was paralyzing. Your visions begun to distort, transitioning rapidly between the Sunghoon that was right there with you in library, to Sunghoon standing in a dark, moon-lit room. From a glowering Sunghoon who looked like he was going to murder you to a Sunghoon who looked rather sultrily at you.

You gulped, mustering every strength and rationality in you not to crumble under it all. It’s just in your mind y/n, you tell yourself repeatedly as the visions rapidly transitioned, showing similar sequences as the ones you’ve had before. Except this time, as the Sunghoon from your visions lowered his face towards you, about to close the gap, you felt him dip lower, latching instead to your neck instead of your lips – mirroring your nightmares with the faceless man sinking his fangs onto your neck. When the man pulled back, you faced the exact same faceless man as the one in your dreams – the shadows concealing the rest of his face save for the sharp jawline, pale skin, plump lips, fangs, and blood-stained shirt.

Had this been your typical nightmare, this would have usually been the part where it all ended. But somehow this time, it went on, his face craning in such a way that the moonlight, which streamed through a nearby window, gradually illuminated the rest of his face: his nose, his eyes, hair. Your trepidation quickly combusted into that of horror as you realized now why the man’s features had always evoked such a strange feeling of familiarity.

It was Park Sunghoon’s.

“You…” you croaked, mind fraught in turmoil when the scene before you melted away, reverting back to Sunghoon at present in the library, who had just aggressively yanked your hands off of him. You noticed the subtle brief eyebrow twitch and clenching of jaw as he teetered back – almost as if he registered or realized something.

“Don’t play with fire y/n,” he glowered and suddenly the lights around the library started to flicker wildly and in the fraction of second when his face directly caught the light, you noticed how his dark brown eyes had unexplainably turned into a shade of amber though you couldn’t double take as the light completely went out after, his voice echoing in the dark, “—you’ll get burnt”.

When the lights switched back on after a few seconds, Sunghoon was gone – as if he had disapparated.

Suddenly whatever courage and strength you had from earlier dissipated and you crumbled onto the cold marble floor – legs weak, hearts wildly palpitating and mind completely stretched thin. Memories from that night when Sunghoon sank his teeth onto your neck started to flood back to you like burst dam, filling you with overwhelming emotions that you found yourself heaving and paralysed.

Twice in your life, you downplayed all the signs that had been there: from Sunghoon’s omnipresence around your life; the way events around your life seemingly gravitate towards him; the way his words always felt double-laced — it now all made sense. They were no coincidence — they were all him, everything was a web purely spun by him. The way he manipulated everything to his favour, from removing obstacles to tipping events, and then subsequently weaponised your own mind and memories against you to the point of insanity.

You remembered feeling very foolish back then in your last waking moments but now you just felt completely stupid for being strung around by Park Sunghoon again to the point of insanity.

What happened next was a total blur as you became so overwhelmed and numb from the rush of memories and realization: from having to process that vampires are not a stuff of fables; to Sunghoon being one; and to you being the one preyed upon. When you arrived home, you didn’t even bother to switch on the lights nor shower – just collapsing dejectedly and weakly onto your couch. Your train of thoughts soon melded into a disjointed mess as your body eased, lulling you into a sleeping state. It all then warped into something familiar — a large living living room, a figure following you from behind, door slamming shut just when you open it, you getting pinned against it — it was the same thing.

Except this time, everything was as clear as day – without any glitches and without any concealment – Park Sunghoon looming before you eyeing you as if you were meat. Everything then flooded back to you: you packing up to go home, him blocking you and forcing a kiss on you to the point your lips bled, then him stopping you from escaping, taunting you before sinking his fangs onto you. As you drift in and out of consciousness, you could see him sporting a triumphant grin, lips and collar morbidly smeared with blood – your blood – as he caressed your cheeks, rubbing the tears away as if he hadn’t been the one to have caused it in the first place.

“not so feisty now huh? y/n?” was the last thing you heard before it all went black.

Your eyes then fluttered open. You can feel your cheeks wet, apparently shedding a tear in your sleep just like in your nightmare. Unlike previous nights when you jolt awake in horror, sometimes even screaming, this time, you were calm – awash with a sense of clarity.

It has never been any random man. It has never been any normal nightmare.

It was Park Sunghoon all along.

And they weren’t nightmares, they were repressed memories.

You feel your fists clench in vehemence. You knew that your days now were probably numbered for there was no way he would let you off now that your memories have returned. Far from being scared however, you felt bolder, empowered by the desire to not let him have the upper hand. If I’m going down, you thought to yourself as your hand reached for the spot on your neck where the puncture mark had been, you’re going down with me Sunghoon.

— ii

“How many more bagged bloods is it going to take for you to realise that that is not hunger?” Jake jabbed, clicking his tongue dismissively at the way Sunghoon aggressively bite onto yet another bagged blood, finishing it in just seconds as if he hadn’t drunk for weeks. Jake shuddered when Sunghoon turned around, glowering, his eyes a luminous golden as he crumpled the empty bag, throwing it angrily across the room. Sunghoon has always been the calm one so to see him this agitated was alarming.

Sunghoon knew a drop of your blood could drive him off the rails but what he didn’t know was how you, in your entirety, could have the same effect. He felt dizzy again as he was reminded of when you had daringly, and foolishly he might add, pulled him earlier – the way your dark eyes, like whirlpool, was threatening to pull him deeper; the way your lips, parted and flushed, threatened to drew him close; the way you looked so small under him, making him go almost feral at the thought of completely engulfing you. Fuck, he cussed again internally as he slumped onto the bed, face buried in his hands, feeling the burn rising.

“It’s that toxic mix of obsession and lust that you hate the most,” Jake suggested, “swallow your pride tonight and prey on someone else both for fresh blood and for your other carnal desires – that’s how you’ll get through the burn. Nothing beats the satiation from a living person.”

In any other times, he would have already lunged at Jake but right now he was too overwhelmed to even glare at him. Begrudgingly he agreed to be dragged to another party tonight – much to the delight of Jay and Jake. Technically if what he felt was lust, he can just find other women from the hottest to the most skillful, to satiate that. If what he felt was hunger for fresh blood from a living human – that, too, he can find from another human. Whatever it takes, the world is essentially his oyster and tonight, he wasn’t going to restrain himself.

Thus unlike his usual untouchable and prickly self, Sunghoon was a different man tonight for when they arrived at a frat party in another university, his hands quickly found the hottest woman who was more than eager to get it on with him.

You’re nothing to me y/n, he thought to himself they sloppily made out in one of the empty bedrooms, his hands roaming frantically as his desire rise and fall with every touch and kisses, convincing him that it had indeed been just any normal lust. Except as the night deepened and things escalated further than he usually would allow, you still burned in the back of his mind. Burning ever brighter as if he had just tried to put down fire with fuel with him being the one at stake, completely engulfed in flames.

Now vampires don’t really get sick but with the way the burn within him was almost incapacitating, he might as well be breaking into a fever. A fever that is leaving him infuriatingly confused as to whether he wants to eliminate you or own you.

— iii

Your nightmares stopped since that evening. On one hand, you were grateful, finally having adequate and uninterrupted amount of sleep each night – something that has become a rarity to you that it was almost a luxury. On the other hand, you were slightly bummed. There were still some things you wanted to confirm, of which you could potentially do by revisiting your nightmares and yet now that you were seeking for it, it had completely vanished, leaving you with nothing but just dubious patchwork of memories of which was getting increasingly fragile and fleeting as days passed.

“It’s all red herring I tell you,” you hear Sunoo grumble from the other side of your door, occasionally knocking to ask you if you were ready, before continuing on with his ramblings and complaints, “there is no way a 23-year old drug addict did all that. I’ve been dabbling in Press work long enough to see a red herring when I see one. I bet you whoever is behind all these is powerful and influential to easily tamper with evidence and throw someone else under the bus like that.”

“I think so too,” you concurred though you stayed silent about your reasons. While you had been itching to tell Sunoo everything you knew and what had transpired between you and Sunghoon, you had no evidence whatsoever. Not yet, at least. Objectively too, though you now know that Sunghoon is no ordinary human, perhaps not one at all, you don’t have evidence that he is behind all the serial killings either. Sure the shoe fits but for all you know, there might have been many like him around town, operating solitarily or even colluding with one another to prey on humankind while covering each other’s back. In fact, the whole town might have just been rats in a maze for them.

There is also another reason as to why you have been keeping your mouth tightly sealed in this regard: to protect Sunoo himself. After what Heeseung and Sunghoon did to him, you were sure Sunoo harboured so much ill-feelings towards them that no amount of reason could ever talk some sense into him had he gotten a whiff of these information. In fact, you were certain that he would immediately run with it, printing the stories out without any care for the lack of evidence, let alone the grave implications of doing so. Hence, you’ve kept yourself silent about it, preferring to gather information and piece it all out alone for now.

“You can come in now, I’m done putting on my dress,” you said as you applied a burgundy shade of lipstick over your coral lips, dabbing on it to spread it evenly across. Noticing the way Sunoo seemed stupefied at the sight of you with jaws agape, you started to feel self-conscious, trying to pull the tulle sleeves of your off-the-shoulder sequinned black gown upwards, “Is it too much? too revealing? should I change to-“

“Oh quit it. More like too stunning,” Sunoo gushed overdramatically as he encircled you, “I can’t believe how adamant you were to miss the ball tonight. Look at you, you look absolutely jaw-dropping right now, as if you’re made for the ball.”

“You’re just saying that because I have begrudgingly agreed to come with you to the Winter Ball,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m all set now, let’s go – won’t want to be fashionably late, I’m not made for that kind of attention.”

“Even if you’re not fashionably late, you would end up commanding a lot of attention tonight anyway,” he winked as he helped you with your coat, placing it loosely over your exposed shoulders.

Ever since the culprit has been caught, life has finally returned to campus with the return of the long-awaited annual Winter Ball sealing the deal – serving like a celebration that the worse was finally over. As if the weather was also on the side of the event, it had begun to lightly snow that evening as well, covering the merrily-decorated compound of campus in the colour of purity as if symbolising a 'rebirth', making the whole scene before you seem so magical and otherworldy especially as everyone were dressed so formally with their tailored suits and classy gowns.

While you have never been interested in the Ball, you succumbed to the continuous pressures from Sunoo who never tire in pestering, whining and bribing you to attend it with him. You were actually adamant on standing your ground but after weeks of seeing him being all dejected and moody from having his investigation resources confiscated by Heeseung, you thought this would cheer him up. Thankfully, it really did – bringing the megawatt smile back to his face while adding extra spring to his steps.

When you two finally reached the Grand Hall with 45 minutes to spare before the start of the event, it was already brimming with life as students and staffs, all decked in their finest, mingled about – filling the air with a cacophony of sounds from chatters, laughters, whispers, and clinking of glasses – all of which floated above the soft classical music that is being played by a live Orchestra. Usually grim and sombre owing to its Gothic Architecture and monochromatic grandeur, the Grand Hall too was transformed into a majestic wonder tonight, looking like the epitome of opulence, magnificence and exclusivity, with all the ostentatious chandeliers; taper candles; hydrangea centrepieces; twinkling lights; and garlands.

Sunoo excitedly tug onto your hand, his eyes twinkling in delight, almost mirroring the fairy lights that adorned the columns and trees. You were never the type to enjoy social events like Balls nor were you ever a fan of being in a crowd, but after months of trepidation and despondency, the bustling crowd and noise was oddly comforting – like a sure sign that the worse is definitely over. In fact, as you two settled in, meeting and catching up with old friends and other coursemates, you were really beginning to take Sunoo’s words for it – that you’d have the time of your life tonight.

At least that was what you thought until about an hour and a half later when the crowd quietened down into gasps and whispers. From the reaction you'd have thought the Dean had walked into the Hall but it was none other than Sunghoon and his clique, having just arrived, decked in the finest suits from the most luxurious brands, effortlessly looking like the embodiment of wealth, class and charisma. Sunghoon himself was dressed regally in a black sleek and custom-tailored YSL suit with a distinct intricately-designed ruby-centred coat of arms pinned on his lapel. Sunghoon had always looked cold and intimidating but his partially slicked-back hair tonight, which fully exposed his thick brows, prominent brow bone and piercing gaze, was amplifying it all – lending a rather ethereal, otherworldly and untouchable quality to him.

“Such attention hogs,” Sunoo muttered disdainfully, “I was so sure they would decline the invitation again this year and yet here they are—”

“Is it too late to go back now?” you grumbled, grimacing at the way everyone clamour and gushed over them like sunflowers towards the sun – totally oblivious to the fact that there is a monster lurking amongst them. All of a sudden, as if he knew you were there and you had been staring, his eyes directly met yours in a chilling precision amidst all the distance and the crowd that stood between you two. You held his gaze, eventually scowling when he refused to look away and proceeding to give you the once-over with a smirk blooming across his lips.

“Ugh,” Sunoo groaned, turning you around, and shielding you away from Sunghoon’s prying eyes, “he’s so shameless – it’s almost as if he wants you right there and then.”

Yeah, want me dead, you thought to yourself.

Fortunately, as they always had a crowd clamouring over them, they were always so preoccupied and were always away from your line of sight so you were able to go about your evening unbothered, completely in your own world, joking and dancing with Sunoo as well as with some of your other coursemates – completely forgetting that Sunghoon was even around. Until that is, the lighting started to the dim, the Orchestral music started to gradually grow louder and the floor started to clear – signalling the start of the long-awaited Waltzing session. You watched in awe as some people begin to join others at the centre of the hall, each rhythmically and formulaically Waltzing to the classical music with their partners with so much ease and grace as if it’s something that anyone normally does in their pastime.

Just then you felt Sunoo tugging your hand with a sheepish grin that you knew only meant trouble. You mouthed a few protests, trying to retreat away but as you begin to feel the heat of people’s stares, you had no choice but to begrudgingly let yourself get dragged to the dance floor, not wanting to cause a fuss and attract more attention.

“You owe me big time Kim Sunoo,” you grumbled through gritted teeth as you watched other couples warily while Sunoo just confidently held your hand in his and wrapped a hand around your waist, guiding you carefully according to the melody of Tchaikovsky’s 'Serenade For Strings in C Major, Op.48 II', “come on, what’s a ball without proper dancing? You already look the part, might as well play the part. Trust me okay? now relax your shoulders and carefully, follow my steps, 1, 2, yes, now backwards, yes -”

That was how you ended up on the dance floor, waltzing through a series of classical music, and a series of different men because Sunoo cheekily did not tell you that partners change whenever the classical pieces change. As if that wasn’t awkward enough – you could feel someone’s burning stare on you throughout the dance: Park Sunghoon.

While his hands were always on the hottest women in campus and he was always so preoccupied, whether it is in conversations, chatters, or even whispers, his eyes never failed to meet yours in an uncanny precision whenever your eyes accidentally landed on him in the crowd. That is, if he hadn't already been staring at you in the first place like a vulture waiting for their prey to succumb to its death. At one point, you held his gaze, frowning to show your utter contempt – hoping that that would have given him the message and make him look away but with the way the corner of his lips tipped, that obviously had the opposite effect. In fact, at one time, his partner ended up turning around, proceeding to give you the stink eye as if you had been checking out Sunghoon in the first place. As if, you thought to yourself, grimacing.

“Evening beautiful.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, realising then that the piece had changed again and the man that was holding your hand had changed. “Jungwon!” you gasped, face melting into utter relief and glee. Your body relaxed almost immediately in his touch after all the stiffness you had to maintain from the bunch of strangers you had to shuffle through for the Waltz so far.

“Wouldn’t want to miss a dance with the most beautiful lady in the hall tonight,” he grinned cheekily as he wrapped his hand over your waist ever so gently, guiding you carefully and attentively through the slow melody. It was classic Yang Jungwon – comforting and dependable. Except tonight, contrasting his usual boy-next-door image, his slicked-back hair, which fully exposed his strong arched brows and sharp feline eyes, lent a much stronger charismatic and refined impression to his look and vibe which could lean towards unnerving, if not alluring, if he wasn’t smiling cheerily like he did right now.

“No shift tonight?” you asked.

“Unfortunately, I do in about 45 minutes since they are short-staffed due to the holiday season,” he pressed his lips into a thin line, “but doesn’t matter, now that I’ve danced with you, my evening is complete.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re the last person I’m dancing with as well,” you replied before almost stumbling as the music sped up, struggling to keep up. Always so gallant and dependable, he quickly held you steady, beaming reassuringly as he wheeled you away to a more spacious area, “I’ve got you, just follow these sequences- yep, there you go…”

“Sorry about that. I haven’t acclimatised myself to upbeat waltzing. Heck even waltzing in itself was some sort of an uphill struggle,” you smiled apologetically, eyes trained on your feet to make sure you won’t be stepping on him again before flitting back up into his eyes, “never even planned to come but Sunoo insisted.”

“Well, he deserves a medal for convincing you then and I am grateful that you did. You were the only one I was searching for in the crowd earlier.”

“You’re not already drunk are you? you are unusually flirty tonight,” you raised your brows quizzically before chuckling playfully, “this isn’t you – bring me back that innocent, anti-romantic, Jungwon.”

With a playful smirk he corrected, “first things first, old Jungwon is long gone. Secondly,” you feel his grip over your waist tighten and the grin slowly faltering as his gaze seemingly darkened, “I’m not that innocent.”

You chuckled lightly, thinking that he was just being playfully dismissive though you find your smile faltering as you notice the way his gaze shifted, the way his eyes flitted ever so briefly seemingly towards your lips and neck. “Is the mark on your neck gone?” he asked. It took you a while to process what he was referring to when you were reminded of that night in the library when he was going to ask something about it before getting interrupted by Jake. “Oh- that,” you mustered. For reasons unknown you somehow decided to lie, “yeah, it was just a small injury.”

He raised his brows, looking unconvinced, “it didn’t look like a normal injury to me? How did you get it?”

You have always known that Jungwon’s stare can be too intense sometimes especially since he had sharp feline eyes and strongly-arched brows but the way he stared down at you right now really unnerved you in a way that makes you feel cornered. “Not sure actually. Perhaps it was a bed bug from when I went to the rurals for volunteering last time,” you lied again, hoping that that could’ve been believable.

“Ah-“ his mouth hung, “those bloodsuckers.”

You could have swore he said the last word with extra, unnecessary, emphasis – as if he knew you were lying and he wanted you to know that. Thankfully, the piece was nearing its end so you didn't need to stare into those forceful and hypnotizing eyes any longer as you turned around, swaying in shadow position just like other dancers. His words and gaze however still lingered in your mind so distractingly that as you twirled you lost his hand for a brief moment though he recaptured it just in time as you spun back towards him. Except, the hands that had caught you was larger and you can see now, to your horror, it was not even Jungwon anymore. It was Sunghoon and the piece had already transitioned to a darker piece: the majestic ‘Swan Lake Op.20, Act II, No.10’ by Tchaikovsky.

“How did you—,“ you stuttered, caught completely off guard. You could have sworn Sunghoon was far away from you the last time you caught a glimpse of him – the distance of which would have been impossible for him to be your next dance partner.

“You’re not wrong,” he conceded, almost as if he could read your mind and was replying to your thoughts, “I had to break the social etiquette and leave my partner before the piece ended just so I can have the last dance with you before someone else snatches you away.”

You scoffed, really not having it. “well, I’m not one for rules either,” you snubbed, just about to pull away from him and break the etiquette by leaving the dance mid-way when you felt him interlacing his fingers with yours while his other hand that was just resting over your waist, slid higher, snaking across your back, seizing you in a vice-like grip, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You would just attract a lot of attention since half of those in the room are looking at us now. I know you hate attention.”

You looked around and true enough, almost everyone’s attention in the hall was on you both. You stared back up at Sunghoon, flummoxed, “you did this on purpose didn’t you? Wasn’t the previous piece supposed to have been the last dance?”

“Well, what I want, I get,” he asserted domineeringly, brows arched up smugly as he wheeled you away in an adept yet dizzying turn across the dance floor past other couples. Perplexingly, despite the pace and force at which he was leading you, you hadn’t stumbled even once – it was almost as if you had been put under a spell, a spell that enraptured you in a fixed pre-set rhythm with him.

“So you’re saying that dancing with me tonight is what you want?” you asked mockingly just to spite him.

“Wrong,” he tutted, “it’s you that I want.”

“Is that doublespeak for my blood?” you provoked. Seeing the way his brows made the slightest twitch and his gaze darkened made you feel almost triumphant. He lowered his face slightly, tilting it, and bringing his lips close to your ears, “don’t play with me darling,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ears, sending shivers down your spine, “I can conjure up your worst memories here right now. Maybe then you’ll learn not to run your mouth too liberally in public.”

You jerked your head away from him and stared back into his darkened gaze in defiance though the way your jaw tightened was enough to satisfy him for it was a sign that you were fraying no matter the tough front you put forward for him. “why haven’t you killed me yet?” you asked, point-blank.

“Well, killing you would mean letting you off easy,” he cooed, “you don’t deserve that.”

You chewed the inside of your lower lip, seething, wondering how much longer you could tolerate being so close to this vile man. Every second felt like decades and you have become increasingly hyperaware of the way he was holding you – with every part of your body that was touching his, searing. From his large hand that had snaked over your back; his fingers that were all interlaced with yours; and your body all locked with his — you were effectively being seized, like a prey. More infuriatingly is the way your heartbeat was picking up though you couldn’t tell if it was simply out fury for having to dance with the devil; apprehension over his next steps; or, as much as you hated, over how flustered he was making you feel.

Nevertheless, you weren’t one to admit defeat nor show any signs of vulnerability – especially not to him. So even if you felt like you were going to buckle under his intense gaze and cower away from his strong hold, you persistently powered through – feigning nonchalance as you stared back in those dark commanding eyes unflinchingly. You figured for someone so prideful, power-obsessed and controlling like him, who always have the upper hand and have people wrapped around his fingers, accusing him of having feelings for you and being obsessed with you would be the greatest insult which in turn would have triggered him to act rashly. Hence you decided to play along, taunting him mockingly with the aim of riling him to the point of slipping up, “Oh yeah? I do hope that that is indeed the case,” you muttered lowly, “— not because you’re catching feelings for me. That would have been such a low blow, falling for a mere mortal who feels nothing but vehemence towards you.”

Pressing his tongue against his cheek, he scoffed, lips curling agonisingly slow into a rather insidious grin. “Oh yeah?” he drawled, his hand sliding further, fingers curling over your side ribs with nails digging painfully into your skin like talons, “then why is your heart beating so fast? Are you scared of me?” he raised his brows smugly as he harshly pulled you closer up his body as if trying to assert his dominance and further grind your gears, “or are you attracted to me? Would be a low blow for you either way isn’t it?”

“Speak for yourself,” your hand had already travelled down his shoulder, resting on his chest, eyes boring into his, unyielding and challenging, “yours is matching mine. You should be careful Sunghoon, you might need more blood to keep that shrivelled heart pumping this fast.”

Just then the piece picked up, booming into the last chorus line as if trying to mirror the tension that was brewing and threatening to spill over between the two of you as you two obsess over one-upping the other, completely oblivious over the fact that sometimes, the line between hate and attraction are blurry. In fact, to many unassuming observers, it was very easy to mistake the both of you as being completely enamoured with one another especially with the proximity, hand placements, the locked gazes and the banters. But whose to say they were wrong when deep down the both of you couldn’t tell for certain either.

The music fortunately stopped just in time, preventing anything from escalating and as if utterly disgusted you immediately pried his hand off of your back, feeling his touch searing by the second. He wasn’t going to let you off easy though as he tugged onto your hand, causing you to slightly tip towards him, before bringing the hand close to his lips. You watched in horror as he pressed his lips onto the back of your hand planting a gentle kiss that caused shockwaves across the crowd. A devious smirk immediately tugged on that very lip, “you look beautiful tonight by the way. Ravishing. Would have told you that earlier if we weren’t constantly at each other’s throat.”

You yanked your hand back protectively, embarrassed and fuming. You hated how his every move are always so calculated with the intention delivering the biggest blow to you as if someone was keeping score. Sunoo emerged just in time from the crowd, hissing curses at Sunghoon as he wrapped a protective arm over you and took you away. “You okay?” he asked, lowering his face to meet yours. You plastered a smile, nodding, “I’m fine. He was just messing around.”

Just then, one of the staffs took over the podium, announcing that it was time for dinner, fortunately diverting everyone’s attention away from you towards the food and drinks that were being wheeled into the hall. “I should have kept a closer watch on you,” he said apologetically, “I didn’t know he was that determined to get to you. Kind of weird though. I mean after months of pretending you were nothing but a stranger?” Sunoo paused, eyeing you suspiciously, “you’re not… hiding anything from me are you?”

You shook your head, pretending to be unaffected and nonchalant, “None whatsoever. He’s just bitter that I beat him in the other essay. Classic Sunghoon.”

Thankfully, Sunoo didn’t press on further, readily buying into your lie. As he was busy eyeing the rich selections of food, you looked away, feeling your head spinning though you couldn’t tell if it was from the excessive socialising, dizzying waltzing, or maybe it was Sunghoon and the array of emotions he was capable of evoking from you all at the same time – fear, dread, anger, you name it. Eyes trained on the empty galleries decked out on the upper floors, you decided to slip away from Sunoo, who was busy socialising now, to find a momentary respite.

As you reached one of the galleries, which was decked in burgundy-gold colour palettes, you hunched over the wooden bannister, propping your elbow up and resting your chin in your palm, looking over blankly at the bustling crowd on the floors below. As if there was gravity pulling, your eyes ended up wandering towards Sunghoon, seated at the corner with his little clique, surrounded by other wealthy and popular kids as per usual.

You scowled as memories from earlier – from his taunts, flirtations, to his threatening remarks – flooded back in. If only people know what you are Sunghoon, you thought to yourself.

As you laboured over these thoughts, you soon found your mind treading dangerous waters, your other hand already slipping inside your purse, making a grab for something: an army swiss knife – something you had been carrying as of late for protection.

Your eyes flitted from the knife to Sunghoon, then back, thinking to yourself, theoretically, like sharks, the littlest drop of blood should be easily detected by him. You flipped the blade out as you gave Sunoo a quick text telling him to stay where he was and start filming the crowd if anything happens. A barrage of texts immediately came through from Sunoo but you ignored it as you slipped the phone back into your purse, eyes trained on Sunghoon as your resolve to cause havoc was strengthening by the second, if I’m lucky he would lose control right in front of everyone.

With no hesitation you slid the blade across a small section of your palm though in your haste, the cut went deeper than expected with blood quickly pooling and trailing down. You winced, feeling it sting as you looked back at Sunghoon who was still engrossed in a conversation with others. Then suddenly as if a switch had been turned in his head, he looked up straight at you in such a chilling precision as if he knew you were right there.

Startled and alarmed, you edged away from the railings, trying to escape his field of vision. The lights started to flicker then and you knew you got him. Heart hammering wildly against your chest with your fight and flight response kicking in, you quickly darted out of the gallery.

The lights had completely went out then, leaving the winding corridor illuminated ominously with a red glow from the emergency lights in the corner. You can hear the crowd below erupting in unrest. Just as you reached the staircase you saw a CCTV right in the corner and another risky thought brewed in your mind. You purposefully slowed down and as you anticipated, not a full second after, you feel someone’s heavy presence behind you though before you could turn around, you found yourself slammed to the nearest wall.

The corner of your lips lifted, forming a small triumphant grin at the sight of Sunghoon in front of you, “aren’t you too easy Park Sunghoon?” you mocked, gritting your teeth his hand grabbed your neck, threatening to choke you. It might look as if Sunghoon has all the upper hand right now but nothing could be far from the truth because if anyone knows anything about him, to be able to rile the calm, collected and calculative Sunghoon up to this point is a massive feat. After all, he was always the one who is a few steps ahead, the who orchestrates, the who puppeteers. But now, despite all his attempts, his efforts seemingly backfired with his eyes already lightening to Golden; fangs fully erupted; and breathing all labored, both out of anger and increasingly, hunger. “You must really have a death wish y/n,” he warned insidiously.

You would be lying if you said the sight of him glowering murderously at you with razor sharp teeth and glowing golden eyes did not terrify you but from the moment your memories had started to slowly return weeks ago, you knew your days were numbered and that realization struck something in you – turning you from the risk-averse and non-confrontational person you had always been, to someone who is more defiant and dauntless. After all, if you’re going to die – you might as well die fighting.

Hence why, instead of pleading for mercy, you were relentlessly trying to provoke him, “with an opportunity served on a golden platter like this,” you derided, smirking as you ran your bloody hand up his wrist that was on your neck, “you shouldn’t fumble again. It’s getting too embarrassing at this point. Aren't you supposed to be infallible?”

You could see the alarm in his face as he realised a second too late how you had effectively smeared your blood on his hand, which had by then seeped onto his cuffs. Just like how your blood slowly crept up his cuff, dying every fiber at the edge into a deep shade of red, he, too, was increasingly engulfed in a confusing mess of impulse and desires which was getting harder to fight. Juxtaposing his usual calculated movements and calm and controlled facial expressions, he was thrown into disarray now as he yanked your hand aggressively away, pinning it against the wall, only to have his senses and rationality struck harder, as your bloodied palm was now fully exposed, the blood of which was dripping down towards his own hand – the scent now becoming overbearing that he was seeing red.

“Or do you prefer to do it in alleys, leaving my bloodless, punctured, body to be the next cold case in town? Oh wait, it can’t be a cold case anymore since you’ve got someone else to throw all the blame to,” you goaded further, truly having no regard whatsoever for your own life, “poor guy. For all we know you might also be running a drug den – essentially a pool of black sheeps to tap onto should you need someone to throw under the bus.”

Almost snarling, you feel him tighten his grip over your wrist, his nails digging onto your skin, as he lunged towards you. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for what was to come. But instead of the prickle of pain on your neck that you expected to follow, you felt him crash his lips onto yours instead, aggressively devouring it like a man starved. Your eyes flew open, aghast, as you felt his hand crept up your back possessively, pulling your body flush against him with unyielding strength as if any space in between would have killed him. You yelped – the sounds of which he swallowed as he thrust his tongue inside your mouth and deepened the kiss so heatedly that you could almost taste the anger and bitterness in the way his lips ferociously and hungrily devour yours. You then felt your bottom lip getting tugged in between his teeth, the pain of which made you wince, before it sent you thrashing harder against him when you felt him nibble, lick and suck on it. Not that any of your efforts were fruitful for he was far stronger – completely unbothered and unyielding like a stone. In fact, the more you thrashed and protested, the more seemingly intoxicated and entranced he became as he completely pressed his body up against yours, effectively immobilising you against the wall.

Your mind was getting hazy from the lack of air and just when you thought you might pass out, he pulled back, staring down at you domineeringly with his penetrating and devilish golden eyes. “Who’s easy now?” he mocked in a show of dominance and power as his tongue sultrily licked his blood-smeared lips.

“You fucking psycho-“ you hissed breathlessly as you shoved him away with as much strength as you could muster.

“Next time you pull this kind of stunt-“ he warned, the colour of his eyes gradually darkening to his usual dark brown colour as the grin on his face faltered, “–actually, forget it. I’ll make sure that you won’t even have a next time.”

“Why don’t you put money where your mouth is,” you spat as your fists clench in fury, “or is your mouth too busy trying to chase mine?”

His brows shot up momentarily before he narrows his eyes menacingly at you. You were sure he was going to say or do something to you then when suddenly you hear Sunoo calling your name out repeatedly.

“y/n!”

You snapped your head towards the direction of the voice, seeing Sunoo appearing by the staircase, completely out of breath, hunched over the floor, as if he had just ran all the way up. When you turned back, Sunghoon was long gone with absolutely no signs of him nearby. You looked around haphazardly, checking each galleries, and looking over the bannisters, seeing absolutely no signs of him, as if he disapparated.

“y/n!”

Sunoo grabbed your hand, swivelling you harshly around to face him, “what is wrong with yo-“ he paused, gasping, eyes widening in alarm, “you’re bleeding!”

“oh right- it’s-“ you mumbled, snapping out of your thoughts, as you looked at your bloodied palm. Except instead of your hand, Sunoo dabbed his clean handkerchief againts the center of your lips instead. You edged your face away, surprised. When you reached and gently touched the stinging spot on your lips, true enough it was bleeding. You scoffed, reminded of Sunghoon’s bloody lips too, along with his mocking words “who’s easy now?” – realising only then what he had really meant as he had bitten your lips and sucked on it. That prick, you feel your shoulders dropping in defeat, your head splintering.

“Did you take a tumble or something?” Sunoo asked as he continued gently dabbing your bloody lips, “If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought you had been making out or something. Look at the state of your hair and your lips-“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you grumbled defensively, snatching his handkerchief from him, trying your best to feign nonchalance as memories of Sunghoon liplocking you started replaying in your mind like a broken film, “I tumbled on the stairs earlier, it was too dark.”

“You’re acting weird, do you know that?,” Sunoo eyed you suspiciously, “Actually – you have been acting weird. What was that text earlier? Stay there? Camera on? What were you up to? But anyway thanks to your heads up, I caught something interesting.”

“Wait- you did?” you asked, hoping that perhaps Sunghoon could have been caught in his film. The way in which he suddenly appeared behind you was something no human could do – not in such speed, not when he was in the midst of a crowd and not in that dimmed lighting.

“Oh-“ you managed, evidently disappointed when you watched the clip in Sunoo’s phone. He filmed everywhere and everything except for the area where Sunghoon was initially at. The camera suddenly flipped to selfie mode, showing Sunoo looking confused as the lighting flickered, “Sunoo I didn’t tell you to film yourse-“

“Hey, exactly because I filmed this that I caught something odd,” he grumbled, fast-forwarding it to the time when Sunoo started swivelling around in the dark, “look at that man at the far corner near the statue,” you followed his finger, focusing on the guy who stood rooted there. It was grainy and blurry but you can see that his head snapped upwards as if he saw something alarming before suddenly he vanished just a few seconds the lighting went out.

“Wait, what-“ you grabbed Sunoo’s phone, rewinding it back and replaying it. There was no mistaking it, the guy definitely vanished into thin air. You first thought that it might have been Sunghoon but that would be impossible. After all before the lights shut off, he clearly was at the to other end of the hall, by the sofas – you saw that with your own eyes.

That was when the horrifying truth dawned on you, that your presumptions weren’t that far off — that there really was more than one like Sunghoon, not just in your town, but in your campus.

— iv

“It’s done,” Sunghoon muttered as he re-entered the dining hall of their loft. Jake turned to him, catching a glimpse of the man slumped near the sofa in the other room before the door completely closed behind Sunghoon, “he should remember nothing about tonight except just how wasted he was.”

“Good work Sunghoon,” Heeseung nodded as he massaged his temples and checked his phone for the umpteenth time for updates, “I’ve had the victims already sent to two different hospitals too. There should already be someone there ready for to do all the necessary cover-ups so the accident tonight shouldn’t cause too much ruckus with the elders.”

“Good thing I was making out just outside of the Grand Hall isn’t it? Otherwise someone else would have found the bodies,” Jay wiggled his brows, looking proud.

“Well for someone who was near the vicinity, it really is a wonder how far gone you were with the girl you were snogging with to have missed out a stray vampire feeding on two students nearby,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head dismissively as he nudged Sunghoon, beckoning him to agree with him. Sunghoon just gave him a cursory glance, looking every bit as disinterested and indifferent as ever as if he, too, wasn’t liplocking around the time it happened.

“What if this stray vampire is the one responsible for the chaos earlier?” Heeseung asked aloud, tapping the edge of his phone against the marble countertop, “did anyone have a good idea of what actually happened earlier? I was too busy buttering up the Board of Directors.”

Feigning ignorance, Sunghoon just casually shrug, despite knowing very well who had sparked the whole chaos earlier: you. Unlike what is popularly depicted in the media, vampires aren’t really like sharks but some do have a keen sense of smell when it comes to blood especially if it is the blood that they are very well familiar with. This is the case of you to Sunghoon who, having dawned it himself, could smell it when you had hurt yourself earlier. Though in hindsight he could now see how foolish and rash he had been to be easily baited like that. Not that he wanted to divulge all that to the rest though, especially not to Heeseung.

“Regardless of what happened in the Grand Hall, I think we have another one in our midst,” Sunghoon smoothly changed the subject, “I doubt it’s a pureblood though – we’d have sensed them otherwise and the way he or she just leaves the bitten body like that is too amateur and sloppy to be one of us.”

Heeseung nodded grimly, “that’s one heck of a skilled ‘unnatural’ then – to be able to evade us for so long.” ‘Unnatural’ is what they used to refer to human-turned-vampires. Not that the term is anymore less condescending than the non-Pure Bloods that some would refer them as.

“Leave that to me, I’ll try to find out more about it. Skilled or not, we are still much more superior and powerful than they are,” Sunghoon offered though his intentions in finding the culprit differed from the rest. Heeseung gave him a brief appreciative smile before retiring to the drawing room to answer a call.

“We’re done here right?” Sunghoon asked, turning to the other two, “let’s crash a party.”

Jay and Jake turned to each other in confusion but gladly complied nevertheless since they loved having fun and loved nothing more than roping the most reclusive one of them, Sunghoon, to get wild with them. The party that Jay took them to tonight wasn’t just any frat party either – it was some upscale party at the city – filled with the hottest and wealthiest people from the upper echelons of society including those of their own kind.

“Feeling the burn again?” Jake asked quietly as they entered the lofty mansion.

“Weirdly, no,” Sunghoon replied, surprised at his own answer. Jake’s words from weeks ago suddenly ringing hard in his ears, realizing now how it was you who had effectively quelled the burn that had plagued him tonight. Though he didn’t really know which one did it: the blood or the kiss since he did both tonight. Not that he wanted to ponder about it though. Tonight, he wanted a distraction.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for him to become preoccupied, getting roped into one of the empty bedrooms no sooner than 10 minutes being in the mansion. By the hottest woman in the party too, no less, who also happens to be of their kind. It was perfect – it should be. After all, she’s hot and someone of his own would understand and withstand his needs the most with no need of him to restrain himself like he would on mere mortals. He remembered finding her hot too as she seductively run up her red-lacquered nails up his chest, eagerly unbuttoning his shirt while her short red dress hiked up dangerously high as she straddled him. Her lips quickly molded with his and the whole thing quickly turned into a messy make-out session that quickly escalated. It was going so well.

Except not really.

Because instead of getting delirious and high in the throes of such heat, his mind was constantly straying away from the moment, finding its way back towards you. As if branded, you were etched in his mind and he hated that. He was supposed to be the one toying you and the one etched onto your mind to the point of insanity. Yet here he was, being the one who is gravely bothered and troubled in a game that he himself had spun.

He really thought he got it all under control but clearly, if anyone is losing control, it has been him. The signs had been there all along but classic Park Sunghoon just never wanted to deal with it and now look at the way it festered. He went from watching you as if you were an experiment to keeping such a close watch and tabs on you almost protectively and possessively, as if you were his in the first place.

Then there’s the jealousy that he felt whenever he sees you with either Sunoo or Jungwon. Initially he thought the feeling and desire to get rid of them was simply borne out of wanting to eliminate hurdles along the way and subsequently isolate you. That was indeed probably what it was initially, but slowly the desire becomes tainted with a more emotionally-driven interest – the desire to be them – the be the one receiving all the smiles, the gentle touches and spend an inordinate time with you. The next thing he knew, you have taken root in his mind, growing so entrenched as if you were the one spinning some sort of web in the first place, and not him. You end up haunting him not just in his waking moments, which was torturous enough considering how he doesn’t really sleep, but even in moments when he was in the midst of reaching his highs with other women.

Even now, as he flipped the lady over for another round, even as she was screaming his name loud – all he could see, hear and feel was you. The way you called his name, whether softly or bitterly; the plumpness of your lips; the warmth of your neck; the curvature of your waist; the way you fit perfectly in his embrace as if you were made for him. Fuck, he cussed to himself again. Deep down, he found himself desperately wishing that it was you he was touching, it was you who was holding onto him, it was you that was begging for him.

Buried within those lecherous thoughts however lay something more innocent. Something he doesn’t dare nor wish to ponder: how he wanted you to not detest him. How he wished that you had a fraction of positive feeling for him instead of just the vehemence that you always showed.

By the time he was done, he was already putting his clothes back on, foot already out the door. If problems can’t be solved, he thought to himself on his drive back home, pressing the pedal to dangerous speeds, I should eliminate it altogether.

Afterall, he reasoned further, I can’t yearn for something that isn’t there.

— v.

“The Head of Security bumped into me on the way and is now treating me to coffee so I’ll be a bit late but I’ve already authorised my credentials earlier so just go ahead and log into my PC with the log-in details I’ve shared,” Jungwon explained through the phone as you settled inside the staff room in the library, switching on the PC there while thanking him profusely for the umpteenth time, “thank you so much Jungwon. You know what, I owe you big time. I’ll treat you to a meal next time alright? Anything you want, just say it.”

It was just this morning when you asked him for a favour to view the CCTV in campus, hoping to get your hands on the evidence of whatever transpired last night before it gets wiped out. Always so benevolent and dependable, Jungwon agreed almost immediately without pestering you about the reasons even when getting himself authorised required him sneaking about and accessing the main system discreetly over at the main wing. While sometimes you do feel uncomfortable at just how far he is willing to go for you so selflessly, he has always had a reputation for being obliging and dependable so you always chalk your cynicism to irrational paranoia instead.

Being proficient in IT yourself, it didn’t take you long to figure out how to navigate the system once you’ve logged in, after which you began identifying the specific CCTV angles that could trace Sunghoon’s possible steps. “Got you,” you murmured to yourself, grinning triumphantly as you found him in CCTV #81, which was around the area where Sunghoon was lounging about just minutes before the whole chaos ensued. As you expected, at one point in time, unlike everyone else, Sunghoon’s head suddenly snapped upwards, right towards the area where you were and within seconds after the lights went out, he vanished.

You switched the angle to the other one – the CCTV near the staircase where you were at – which somehow ‘conveniently’ glitched just moments before he suddenly appeared behind you. You watched in anticipation as he roughly shoved you against the wall, expectations shot through the roof as you remembered purposefully riling him up right there and then because you wanted to incite the worse in him and get it filmed. It was risky but you thought, if it was the only way to get him to reveal more of the kind of monster he was, it would be worth it. Except, the more you watched, the more dismayed you were. With his back facing the CCTV, you were entirely engulfed by his figure – the angle of which was completely concealing the struggle that transpired between you two – making it look as if you two were heatedly making out in the dark instead.

You rewinded the clip again, trying to find an instance that could have implied otherwise. None, you thought to yourself, sinking in your seat in utter dejection as you realised none of it was usable – leaving you only with that clip of him vanishing but that could easily be taken as some sort of glitch as well.

Who’s easy now? You remembered him saying that again, realising now just how double-laced those words really were and calculated his actions were. The hall was indeed too public so he knew ravishing you right there and then could get him exposed. So he decided to do it under the guise of a kiss – the least suspicious yet the most vexing way to get back at you – essentially delivering a double-blow to you. Or triple rather, since he fumbled your plan with the CCTV as well, maybe he figured the angles out too. You scoffed, feeling defeated. At this rate, it did not feel like you were trying to beat him in his game but it felt more like you were waltzing with the devil to a tune that only he knows the beat of.

Just as your eyes scanned all the other CCTV angles cursorily, the angle near the back exit caught your attention. It had the same statue as the one Sunoo captured in his phone, near where a man was seen suddenly disappearing. You enlarged the clip, zeroing in on the guy which is probably the guy in question, who walked past the statue while trying to wear his coat, looking as if he was just about to exit through the double doors when suddenly he turned around, head snapping upwards towards the direction of where you should be, just a few seconds before the lights flickered and went off. Then to your horror, he too, like Sunghoon, vanished.

You gasped as you zoomed in the clip to identify who he was though the graininess and blurriness of the clip due to the distance and the night vision was making it almost impossible. It didn’t help that you could only see his face for some 5 seconds before he disappeared. Amidst the graininess however, his eyes had that eerie tapetum lucidum glow which is common among nocturnal predators – the same glow you remembered seeing in the maniac who had attacked you in the alleyway as well as in campus. In fact his eyes glowed so much that it was almost similar the reflective stripes he had on the shoulder of his jackets, which you swore you’ve seen somewhere.

“Sorry, I took too long. Did you managed to find the clip you were looking for?”

You jumped, startled, turning around to see Jungwon beaming softly at you as he took his cap off and unzipped his jacket.

“No worries. I was just trying to figure out how to make the resolution better-“ your voice trailed off as you watched Jungwon turned around to take his waterproof Security jacket off and hang it on a nearby coathanger. The stripes, you stared in apprehension as you recognised it to be the same with the man in the camera – two stripes on each shoulders, both reflective.

“Hey, Jungwon? Did you bring that jacket with you yesterday to the Ball?” you asked carefully as you rose up, alert. He hummed in affirmation, “yeah, I changed in campus so the jacket was all I had to protect me from the sudden snow – why?”

“Nothing,” you plastered a smile as you grabbed your phone from the table, raking your brains for excuses to leave the room, “Oh, it’s getting late. I should head back soon, someone is waiting for me.”

You noticed the way his grin faltered, as if noticing something amiss, “so soon?” he asked, craning his neck, trying to peek at the screen behind you, “is that yesterday? anything interesting?”

“Oh nothing, I just lost my money and wanted to see if someone had took it from my purse but apparently not. I guess I must have misplaced them-” you turned around abruptly, about to close the window which showed CCTV angle you had enlarged earlier when suddenly you felt his hand over yours on the mouse, stopping you from doing so. You swallowed thickly as you felt his chest pressing against your back, feeling trapped between him and the table.

“You sure about that? Because you’re obviously zooming on someone else,” he muttered in a low voice before whispering raspily against your ear, “I guess I should drop the façade now.”

You jerked away from him, horrified, as it dawned on you immediately how his whispering voice was similar to that of the man who had pushed you down the stairs in the South Wing. You teetered backwards in terror – now realising, with his back against the light, how he bears so much resemblance to the man: the tapered chin, the bony wide shoulders, and the thin-lipped murderous grin. You wasted no second then, turning around and running for the door but Jungwon was quicker as he slammed the door back shut just as you opened it, “too slow,” he whispered before you suddenly feel yourself getting yanked and flung to the side, pillowing against a stack of empty boxes at the corner.

You groaned as you mustered all your strength to sit up – not that it would have mattered though for he had climbed on top of you and straddled you in place within seconds, “It was fun while it lasted-“

You feel your heart sink as you watch his face contort almost effortlessly into a wicked expression as if that could have been his resting face. His gaze, which always somehow lent you some form of comfort, was now glazed with malice. His lips which always curved sweetly like a form of reassurance was now all twisted devilishly. You realised then just how trapped and silly you have been – essentially jumping out of the frying pan into the fire – thinking you were safe with Jungwon, only for him to be as much of a hazard as Sunghoon.

“You’re—” you croaked, feeling the dread and trepidation rising as you saw the way his canines fully erupt into razor-sharp fangs now, “what have I ever done to you? Why are you doing this?”

“Initially, you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time…” he drawled as he brought his hand up to your face, finger tracing your jawline agonisingly slowly, “then I found out about your relations with Sunghoon and the power I seemingly have over him whenever you’re with me –“

“What are you saying?! We’re not together—”

“Don’t play dumb,” he growled, the grin faltering, “if it weren’t for wanting you all to himself, I wouldn’t have been left nearly bloodless by an alley, only to be picked up by some other freaks like him and turned into one-“ he heaved an exasperated sigh, hands clenching in frustration, “—doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t turn back the time and I can’t really beat him so-“ he grabbed your collar, tugging it to reveal your neck, eyes glazed in what looked like hunger, “I’ll just hurt him where it hurts the most.”

You feel your heart quicken, hand discreetly slipping into your pocket, grasping the swiss army knife which you had decided to carry along at the last minute earlier. “You’re mistaken, I am nothing to him,” you jabbered, trying to distract him and find the right time to attack him, “he hates me and if you kill me, you’re just doing the dirty work for him.”

“Stop lying,” he chastised, his hand fisting your collar, “he was the one who saved you that time when I almost killed you and yesterday too – ah fuck, if he hadn’t caught up to you, I swear you’d be shreds.”

Sunghoon what? You thought to yourself, eyes shaky in utter disbelief and confusion but as your time was ticking, you had more urgent things to worry about. With the way Jungwon had been bitterly talking about Sunghoon so far, you figured you could use that against him so you lied, “then you should know that Sunghoon is the one I am supposed to be meeting and since I’m not there, he’s probably heading here – you’re going to be the one torn to shreds Jungwon.“

He chucked devilishly as he wrapped his hand over your neck, using his thumb to strain it sideward for a better angle, “well I’ve got to hurry then…” his expressions darkened, “Look at that—your mark is still there. I knew it looked familiar. Well, I should bite you over here too then – that would drive your Sunghoon completely off the rails to see his toy got permanently re-marked and killed in such a way-“

“no you wont-“ you hissed as you drove the swiss knife onto his upper arm with as much strength as you could muster, causing him to back up in pain, groaning and muttering expletives. You took the opportunity to kick him off, scrambling quickly back to your feet though the victory was short-lived as he lunged towards you, knocking you down again. “Playtime’s over,” he growled, dragging you back and yanking your shirt off your shoulders aggressively before dipping his head onto the crook of your neck, sending you thrashing harder under his weight as he lapped on a particular spot on your neck.

“Fuck you, get off me, get the fuck off me-“ you protested but his hands around your neck only tightened, constricting your airways and your screams, as you feel the tip of his fangs press onto your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the worse. The next thing you knew however, the weight and pressure was lifted, and air rushed into your lungs so suddenly and rapidly, that you were reduced to a coughing mess. You could hear struggles and scuffles in the background followed by the sound of furniture toppling and glass breaking from the other end of the room.

Then silence.

Clambering back up to your feet, you stared in horror at the state of the room with files and furnitures toppled and a large broken window right at the corner, as if someone just ran through it, before you realise, as your eyes travelled down, legs peeking out from behind the shelves that concealed the area, seemingly motionless and covered in glass shards. Almost on auto-pilot, you hobbled towards the person – dread and trepidation rising at the thought that the person, who had saved you, might have been gravely hurt. Or worse, killed. Jungwon is after all a vampire with a body count.

As you rounded the corner, to your surprise, slumped against the wall on the floor, with shards of broken glass all over was Sunghoon – head thrown back, eyes shut, with a darkened patch on his shirt over the chest area. Realising how it was blood, you immediately flung towards him, any hatred you felt for him dissipating as panic seized you, “hey-“ you shook him, your hand almost recoiling at how cold he was to the touch, “Sunghoon, wake up- hey wake up-“

“I’m not dead yet,” you hear him mumble weakly, eyes opening to mere slits – the golden irises peeking through. You fell back in relief, exhaling sharply, “– that's a relief.”

He scoffed weakly, “you’re going to regret that and wished I was instead.”

“Shut up,” you reprimanded as you knelt beside him, dusting the shards of glass off of him as your eyes scanned around the room for something that could have stymie his bleeding. You grabbed a table cloth nearby, balling it, as you turned back to face him – alarmed at the way the patch had grown. "You're–" you pressed the cloth onto his chest, seeing it get rapidly soaked up, "– profusely bleeding. Aren't you supposed to be invincible?"

"I'm fine," he mustered but you weren't convinced at all and quickly you used your free hand to fish your phone out, about to dial the emergency services for help when you hear him groan weakly as he readjusted himself against the wall behind him, “no need to call for help- just go…”

“Go? Are you crazy?” you protested, scooting closer instead to apply more pressure, “what if you die?”

You watched in confusion as his hand slowly crept up your hand that was holding the cloth, his fingers lacing yours from the back of your hand, “I won’t die easily,” he muttered, bringing your hand close to your lips, as his eyes glowed brighter which you now understood like some sort of telltale sign of hunger or anger, “but you, y/n, will, if you stay any longer around me.”

You noticed then that there was blood dripping by the side of your palm to which Sunghoon suddenly licked. You flinched, not just from the action, but from the stinging pain, only realising then that you had unknowingly injured yourself, probably from the glass shards you were dusting off earlier, “do you see the predicament you are in right now y/n?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to look unaffected even as your heartbeat started picking up, “not until you get help Sunghoon. Just tell me who to call then if not emergency services—"

Suddenly he lunged towards you, toppling you over with ease, completely dwarfing you, “look, I think you’re mistaken,” he huffed, eyes flitting to your neck and you swore you could see murder in his eyes and it was all quickly engulfing you in a paralyzing sense of déjà vu to that evening when he bit you, “I didn’t save you out of some noble reason. I did it simply because you’re my meal and I won’t let anyone else ravish you.”

You breathing became increasingly laboured the longer you stared into his piercing eyes – almost as if he was doing something to your mind, conjuring the worst of memories, inciting the worst of emotions – as he prodded on, “Also, you’re my prey so no one else get to lay a hand on you even if that would have made my life easier.”

He suddenly backed up slightly, giving you enough space and chance to run away, “I love some cat and mouse game so I’d rather catch you when I’m at my best,” he brushed his hair back, brows raised threateningly, “so you better run now before I regain my full strength.”

You propped yourself back up groggily, eyes locking into his as if trying to probe the depth of his mind, as if not wanting to believe the sadistic things he has been sprouting, as if wanting to believe that he really had saved you for noble reasons and not for whatever possessive and obsessive bullshit he had been sprouting.

“I said... run!” he repeated, this time, more domineeringly and that somehow did it for you. As if a switch had been turned inside of you, your body assumed a life of its own, powering through self-preservation as you recoiled from him and made a run for the door. Everything after that was a blur — potentially distorted through a series of heightened fear, adrenaline, intense pain and disjointed confusion. All you could remember was running out of the library, out of the wing, out of the compound — not stopping once until your legs buckled from exhaustion by the side of a bus stop, landing hardly against the tarmac floor. The cut where he had licked now oozed even more blood, dripping onto the concrete floor – as if mirroring the way your mental state was fraying.

— vi.

You hardly left your home throughout Winter Break, coming up with all sorts of excuses not to join Sunoo in the library when it would have usually been the other way around – with you egging him to join you since exams were just around the corner. Eventually the new semester rolled in and fortunately or rather, miraculously, you have yet to bump into Sunghoon even now that you were entering your 2nd week. You could see his name in the registrar sometimes and even saw his clique but he was never around. The image of him bleeding out on the floor continuously burnt at the back of your mind – like guilt haunting you excruciatingly with every day he is absent, redirecting your mind quickly to the worst scenario possible.

But that isn’t possible, is it?

After all, he is a vampire – a being that is supposed to have superhuman powers and regenerative abilities that wouldn’t just die from what look like a stab wound on the chest. But then again, you would find yourself wondering sometimes much to your consternation, if that isn’t the case then where is he?

Jungwon, too, had disappeared. The official word is that he had moved abroad after being offered a prestigious scholarship though you doubt there is any truth in that. After what he did to Sunghoon, it is just possible that Sunghoon had him killed. Or worse, he could just be yet another pawn in Sunghoon’s grand scheme of things – used to torment you and then paint himself as the white knight.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

You hummed in affirmation though your affable smile faltered as you turned and looked at who it was – Jake Sim. You swallowed thickly, eyes wandering wildly for any signs of Sunghoon. Thankfully, it was just him. “You’re… alone?” you couldn’t help but ask. He nodded, sporting his usual radiant and infectious smile, “the rest aren’t joining this module – none of them are a fan of this much math.”

“Sunghoon too?” you asked before internally cussing at how loose-lipped you suddenly became, almost as your lips had begun to have a life of its own. Thankfully, Jake thought nothing of it, just shaking his head as he took out his iPad, looking over his notes, “nah, he is in this with me but he’s just a bit under the weather lately.”

You straightened up in your seat, suddenly wary as the image of him bleeding out replay again and again in your mind like a broken tape, “he’s… he’s not hurt is he?”

“Nah,” Jake reassured, beaming widely, “don’t worry about it.”

You opened your mouth, wanting to prod more out of guilt, but closed it immediately, realising how you shouldn’t worry for someone who should have been the enemy. Thankfully, the lecturer entered just in time, preventing you from engaging in anymore meaningless chatter with Jake.

Life continued on peacefully for another week and gradually you have started to loosen up – no longer jolting to every sound, no longer looking over your shoulder abruptly and no longer on a vigilant lookout for danger when you were in a crowd.

But troubles soon brew within your own circle.

“No, I’m serious, it’s legitimate!” Sunoo sighed exasperatedly, the frustration evident on his face and strained voice as he paced haphazardly in front of you and Ni-Ki, “I don’t know the exact connections they have to the cases, but they were wrought in it for sure.”

You handed back his file, which had now been filled with sightings report and pictures of Sunghoon and clique, trying to feign disinterest and nonchalance though your heart was drumming against your chest. “Sunoo, the culprit has been caught. There’s nothing we can do–” you looked away from him, shifting your attention back to your work as you feared that you might crack if you look any longer into Sunoo’s pleading eyes, “–unless you get more concrete evidence like I don’t know, them dragging a dead body or something.”

Ni-Ki nodded, leaning back against his seat unconcernedly, “yeah and come on this is Heeseung and his friends you’re suspecting – you need more than evidence to take them down.”

Sunoo scoffed, looking completely dejected and betrayed as he looked from Ni-Ki to you. You felt your heart sank when you met his eyes which was glinting with sadness and what looked like betrayal as he backed away, “Fine. I’ll just pursue this on my own then. Apparently two of my closest friends don’t have enough backbone to fight the status quo nor enough loyalty to support me.”

“Sunoo-“ you called out, hopping off your chair to go after him but Ni-Ki grabbed you by the wrist, stopping you, “he’s in an emotional doldrum right now and no amount of reason could get through that y/n. You might just get into a bigger fight with him if you continue.”

You sighed weakly, agreeing, looking forlornly at the swinging door that he had stormed off through – the guilt was gnawing inside of you. This would have been the perfect time to divulge what you knew about Sunghoon to Sunoo and perhaps devise a plan to get him now that you knew the truth about him and his potential weakness. But instead of doing just that, you lied to your own bestfriend and covered for the enemy for reasons you never dared to ponder about.

You tried to reassure yourself that night that this was just one of Sunoo's momentary outbursts – that he will come around, as he always does. He was after all one of the most non-egotistical and selfless person you have ever known – essentially the personification of sunshine. So it really boggled and worried you to see Sunoo adamantly still seething towards you and Ni-Ki even after a few days, ignoring you both very blatantly – especially you, as if you betrayed him.

But then again, had he known the truth you have been withholding, he wasn’t wrong. It would constitute a betrayal. Though you honestly don’t know who you were doing it for. You knew on one hand you were doing it to protect Sunoo. After all, he used to be a sickly kid whose condition can deteriorate rapidly even with the slightest ailment or injury. Hence knowing the kind of danger Sunghoon poses, you couldn’t help but be paternalistic over him. On the other hand, perhaps your boggling actions also stemmed from wanting to call it even with Sunghoon who has, after all, saved you numerous times. You understood very well that, as he asserted, he hadn’t saved you for noble reasons but still saving is saving, without his actions of which, you would have long been dead.

That evening however, as you were getting lulled into a sleeping state, your phone rang. You were going to just ignore it as it was midnight but with Sunoo on the caller ID, you immediately answered it, falling off the couch in panic, “Sunoo, I-“

“Hey calm down-,” he shushed you, “I told you I’ll get evidence.”

“What do you mean?” you asked warily, already getting an inkling that he was up to no good.

“Well, I’m loitering around in their hang-out place now and guess what? They have a secret door leading out to the basement-“

“Kim Sunoo!” you gasped, trying to reorient yourself as you were still groggy from the nap. You grabbed your coat, foot already at the door within seconds, fumbling with your keys, “you better step out of there now! What if they find you?”

“Well, they have no business having a whole ass secret basement in the first place. They should explain that to me first before anything,” he reasoned sassily, “also, don’t worry. My sources told me that they’re currently at a party in the neighbouring town so you know, this is place is free real estate right now.’

“Sunoo don’t-“ you sighed, stopping yourself, fearing that reprimanding him further will just make him distance himself again. “I’ll go with you then okay?” you lied, already shuffling past the hallways and out of your accommodation block, “Can you just get out of there now please? Wait for me in the courtyard or something. We’ll venture in together then. You said it yourself, I’m smart and two heads are better than one so–”

“Really?" he gasped. You can almost hear his signature smile from his tone as he cheerily agreed, "You’re the best- all right, I’ll go out now."

Except, after 15 minutes of waiting for him by the courtyard, he failed to show up nor pick up his calls, making you antsy. Fearing the worst, you headed to campus, marching towards the Wing where their hangout room was. You begrudgingly approached the huge door that lay at the end of the hallway, which was already ajar. The door, designed in a Gothic Architectural style, was imposing with huge columns on either side, gargoyles on top, intricate carvings on the arch and a golden wolf knocker by the center of the door, completing the grimness of it, as if blatantly warning of the danger that would befall the fools who dare to trespass. In fact, no one had actually been in the room except for the guys themselves so again, rumours are abound of what lay behind the massive door. But none of that mattered now – you needed to get to Sunoo, fast.

You held your breath as you push the door slightly, just enough to slip yourself in. You had to quell the gasp that automatically arose in you as you ventured further into the room – a massive, gothic architecture, common room that seemed more fitting for societies and clubs than just for some group of 4 rich kids to hang around in.

Despite the vaulted ceilings and tall windows, the room was grim and dark thanks to its monochromatic grey walls and furniture with the only splash of colour being from the curtains and rugs, of which were in hunter green; coat of arms, similar to what Sunghoon wore on his lapel during the Ball, of which featured a ruby gem in the centre; and an array of paintings – all of which had dark colour palettes and feature grim images that rhymes with death, despair, desolation, you name it.

You looked around frantically for any sign of door or staircase but all you see are windows, walls, arches and bookcases, wondering how in the world had Sunoo gotten to the basement. Reminded of the secret passage in the library, it occurred to you that perhaps the entrance is hidden.

As you looked around specifically for something out of place, your eyes couldn’t help but return to the tall bookcase in the corner. You approached it, eying every spot carefully and touching anything that looked remotely out of place before your eyes settled on a rather conspicuous book with navy blue spine and nothing but the symbol ' ; ' on it – an embossing that somehow bear resemblance to a bite mark. You tugged on it, wanting to see what kind of book it was when suddenly as you pulled it to a certain angle, the book case shifted, swinging halfway to reveal a winding staircase.

The staircase was anything but welcoming but you went down anyway with Sunoo in the forefront of your mind. Unlike the dark and sombre common room upstairs, the basement, still in gothic architecture was more brightly-lit but still barren and cold, resembling grimly more like a crypt. You looked around the maze-like crypt, firing off multiple texts to Sunoo to enquire on his whereabouts. Your ears soon perked up when you heard his notification sound softly echoing, seemingly coming from the other side. You followed the passage way, finding a door laying by the end as you round the bend, with muffled voices becoming increasingly audible as you get closer. You carefully positioned yourself behind the door, which was already ajar, holding your breath as you carefully tried to peak through the space. You hand immediately flew to your mouth, stifling the gasps that you almost let out, as you saw Sunoo laying unconscious on the floor.

“He should have heeded our warning—” you heard a familiar voice – the owner of which suddenly appearing into your field of vision, crouching down by Sunoo, inspecting the papers strewn next to his body. It was Heeseung. You gulped, positioning your phone in between the gaps carefully to record the scene in case anything happen. You listened to him continue to say something to someone else in the room, “—we’ve been delaying it too much. It’s time to get rid of him.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands shaking as you carefully edge your phone, trying to capture the other side of the room where the other man he was talking to were. Your breath suddenly hitched when you caught the man in your viewfinder – it was Sunghoon, whose attention suddenly then flitted from Sunoo to the door, as if detecting your presence. You immediately recoiled, holding your phone straight to your chest – fervently hoping that you hadn’t been caught.

“What is it?” you heard Heeseung asked, to which Sunghoon fortunately just shook his head to, “it’s nothing.”

Shit shit shit, you cussed in your head, the possibility of Heeseung also being a vampire now dawning in your mind – along with the rest of clique, Jake and Jay, who also frequents this room. It was only now, in hindsight, was it all falling well into place: the way some are part of the Student Union and therefore, Student Patrols; the way Heeseung was adamant in stopping Sunoo’s investigation; the way Heeseung warned you not to tell anyone of your attack in campus. Only now you realised that there was a reason why these lads were shrouded in so much secrecy and mystery in the first place – with an air that is difficult to place surrounding them, straddling somewhere between hypnotising allure and sinisterness.

You raked your brain for what to do next. Sunoo was lying unconscious in the hands of people who would be more than capable and ready to kill him. Yet if you barge in, you can’t save him either and the incriminating evidence you have as well as the knowledge of their true selves, would just die with you. Quickly you sent the video off to Ni-Ki along with a quick text on where you are, asking him to come quick, only to be hit by a notification that there were no service. Shit, you cussed again internally, deciding to hurry back to where you came from to get service, promising Sunoo in your head that you will definitely come back for him.

Except as you turned the bend, a figure materialised right before you. You gasped, teetering backwards. It was Sunghoon – his head tilted in such a condescending way, “Not sure if I should commend your bravery or foolishness for walking into the tiger’s den willingly like this.”

You were about to open your mouth to protest but found yourself shoved into a nearby room in a flash – a small reading room of some sort. “Stay back you psycho,” you hissed, backing away and maintaining the distance.

“Well you should have run when you could have. Should have snitched when you could have. Too late now is it?” he sneered, blocking the only exit in the room.

“Let Sunoo go,” you demanded, trying to mask the trepidation rising within. He scoffed disdainfully. He never actually planned to hurt Sunoo but he played along anyway, totally enjoying the power he has over you whenever Sunoo enters the equation, "he did trespass where he shouldn't have, you know."

"He didn't mean to. He's probably just curious like everybody else about what lies behind your lofty door," you tried to reason. He raised both brows, sarcastically feigning surprise and interest, "Oh? is that why we found some of our documents and a bunch of pictures in his bag? Just curiousity?"

"I'll get him to apologize," you offered, pleading almost, "or you know what, I'll apologize on behalf of him. I'll even get on my knees–"

"y/n, stop–" he rolled his eyes, "apologies and kneeling down may feed the egos and pride of humans but they mean nothing to my kind – not me at least and definitely not when it comes from a mere mortal."

"There is no such thing as free lunch," you blurted, stopping him as he was about to exit the room, "you quoted that aphorism to me remember? then I'll make you a deal in exchange of letting Sunoo go, unharmed."

He approached you at a glacial pace, the fireplace nearby casting his shadow ominously behind him, making him loom larger than usual, “and what could you ever offer that I possibly don’t and can’t have?”

“My blood.”

A quick twitch of the brow and slight tipping of the corner of his lips flashed almost imperceptibly across his inscrutable face, the interest and desire cracking through unwittingly. “Are you offering yourself as a bloodbag for him? How noble,” he scoffed, “and disgusting – what are you two, Romeo and Juliet?”

“Aren’t you being too mouthy for someone in need?”

“Back to you. I’m holding both you and your beloved Sunoo’s life in my hands and you’re still acting up?” he suddenly lunged towards you, shoving you against the cold wall. Though in the heat of emotions, he had failed to see that you had quickly grabbed the swiss army knife from the pocket of your jacket, flipped it open and now, just as his hands were wrapped around your neck, threatening to choke you, your knife was already pointing dangerously on his chest, threatening to re-puncture him where he was injured. His brows shot up, a grin of disbelief tugging on his lips – both amazed and vexed by your fast reflex and unrelenting defiance, “nice effort but that puny knife won’t do jackshit on me-“

His grin faltered as your expressions moulded into that of mocking delight, “sure about that?”

He looked down in a horrifying realisation that instead of puncturing him, you had turned the knife, grasping it by the blade instead, the blood now dripping onto his shoes, the scent of which was quickly engulfing his senses. When his eyes flitted back to yours, it was already golden and his canines were already elongating into full fangs. That was all you needed, “well, seems like I have the upper hand.”

He snarled, his hand tightening over your neck, like a snake constricting its prey before swallowing them whole, eyes narrowing murderously at you, “you know I can just kill you and drain the life out of you right?”

“Yes, but you never did. What's really stopping you?” you gritted your teeth, feeling the pressure suffocating you. Just when you felt the air almost knocked out of your lungs, he released you. You fell onto the hard ground, hunched up, violently grasping for air.

"Just because I haven't doesn't mean I won't. I like to saviour my meals," he crouched down in front of you. You stared back into his tantalizing stare through eyes that were still wet from your coughing fit, “your eyes are already glowing, I don't think you have the luxury for mind games right now. I meant what I said – leave Sunoo the fuck alone.”

The way you offered yourself was everything he had schemed for – even better than forcefully taking it away from you. After all, for someone rebellious and iconoclastic like you, giving yourself up like that is probably equivalent to stomping on your pride. This was exactly the kind that would feed his ego. At the same time, he also hated it. He hated how you were so willing to give yourself up just for that weakling Sunoo even when he wasn’t going to hurt him in the first place.

He wanted so bad to not yield in, to toy you further in the way that best butter up his inflated sense of self. But most of all, sillily, he wanted you to give in to him for him not for anyone else’s sake.

But you were right, he doesn’t have the luxury to hold on to his pride, not at the moment at least, when the scent of your blood was slowly engulfing his senses and tainting every bit of rationality he had left. It didn’t help that he hadn’t been feasting on live blood either which in turn slowed down the healing of his injuries – all of which just made your blood all the more enticing and irresistible. He grabbed your chin harshly, jerking your face upwards towards him, “Fine. I’ll take your offer but there would be no resisting and no excuses. If I want it, I’ll get it.”

You narrowed your eyes, grimacing at the thought, but you swallowed you pride, “only if you promise to get my consent first and not drain me lifeless.”

You know the fragility of words and promises but if there is anything you learnt from him is that he seemed to hold himself to such high dignified and noble standards that something as simple as breaking a promise would have been a blow to his pride. You thought too, perhaps it’s the chase that he was obsessed with – which you think would best be countered with perhaps, not outwitting and one-upping him, but rather, cutting the chase abruptly. If the chase is what drives him high, then your prickliness and defiance would just be feeding him – like an unending Waltz. Thus you figured that you needed to end his chase, even if your pride is on the line.

“You’re awfully demanding,” his hand slowly crept down your neck, his fingers wrapping over the back of it, “your blood is the same as everyone else’s don’t you know that? It’s highly substitutable.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” you mocked.

“Fine,” he muttered resentfully, eyes already trained on a spot on your neck, about to launch forward to you when you stopped him, “not my neck,” you raised your hand towards him, “until you free Sunoo, you’re not getting it from where you want. That’s part of the deal remember? Consent?”

He scoffed. Sunghoon should have hated this. The way you’ve played him instead of the other way around but just like Jake said, so intricate had he weaved his webs for you, he couldn’t help but be ensnared in it as well. In fact, at this rate, it just seems like he’s the one getting ensnared deeper. Had you been just anyone else, he would have just lunged towards you, draining you in the vilest way he could. Unfortunately for him, you weren't just anyone else. You have become a someone. Someone who has struck a chord in him in ways that managed to stop himself from fully succumbing to his animalistic senses, to hold onto any last shred of rationality and sense even when it's hanging by a thread.

Begrudgingly, he silently complied, yanking your hand indiginantly, his fingers lacing over yours through the back of your hand like talons. Your shoulders tensed up as he brought your hand towards his lips, wincing when you felt his cold tongue brushing past the wound before he started sucking on it. You swallowed thickly at the sight, increasingly unnerved, as you watched him shut his eyes, his brows knitting in pleasure, his adam’s apple bobbing rapidly.

“That’s-“ you stuttered, starting to feel lightheaded after a few minutes, “that’s enough.”

His lids fluttered open, the golden irises peeking through almost ominously. He lifted his head slightly, a smirk already adorning his lips reflecting some sort of satisfaction and conceit, his tongue making a quick swipe over his blood-stained lips, “you think that was enough?”

The next thing you knew he had lunged towards you, toppling you down against the cold cement. With his large hand wrapped over the back of your neck, he titled your head awkwardly to the side as if readying your neck. You wedged an arm against him, trying to stop him from descending further, though with the crazed look in his eyes you wondered how long could you fend him for, “Park Sunghoon,” you protested, “you promised.”

He scoffed, prying your hand off of him easily, “ever heard of The Scorpion and The Frog fable?” he smirked, dipping his head onto the crook of your neck. You shuddered, feeling his hot breath against your skin, his lips ghosting just inches away. You feel his grip tightening and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hand clenching his shirt as if bracing yourself for the pain.

But the painful prick never came. Instead you feel his lips softly pressed over your skin before he started sucking on a particular spot in a gentler way, right over where your original bite mark was. “Gotcha,” he whispered and you jerked away from him, your fingers immediately feeling that spot – confused when you felt no puncture marks.

“Take that as a seal,” he backed up, eyes reverting to its normal colour.

It was only at home later you realised what he had meant when you saw the deep purple bruise on your neck – a harmless love bite – as his words repeated in your mind like some sort of siren song, “take that as a seal. A seal that you owe me. And when it fades – the original bite mark that remains underneath should remind you that I own you.”

— vii.

True to Sunghoon's words, Sunoo returned unharmed – having absolutely no recollection of venturing into Sunghoon’s lair and having little to no resolve any more in pursuing the case that he had been so obsessed about, something you were sure was also of Sunghoon’s doing.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was sparsely around. Months passed without him pestering you nor asking you for what you owe him – something you were grateful about. Perhaps, as you projected, all it took to extinguish his obsession with you was indeed to cut the chase because since then, he had stopped bothering you. Just as quick as the bruise on your neck faded, you figured, the deal would no longer matter to him. Eventually the bruise fade and seasons pass, leaving only the brown puncture marks on your neck which never fully disappeared, lingering now permanently like a birthmark.

As another semester rolled and ended, you soon approached graduation season. By then you were fully convinced that normalcy has indeed returned. Until, that is, you received a sudden text from Sunoo one night announcing that he was going to Sunghoon’s hang-out spot again. The panic that is reminiscent of that fateful night immediately engulfed you and when your calls returned unanswered and rejected, eventually, you hopped off bed and ran back to campus, bursting into Sunghoon’s lair.

The room felt so still and void with no sign of Sunoo so you figured that maybe he had ventured to the basement again so you made your way towards the bookshelf when someone broke the silence.

“Sunoo must really be your Achilles Heel,” Sunghoon appeared from the shadows before throwing a phone onto the couch near you. It was Sunoo’s phone.

“Where is he?” you demanded, “you promised me you wouldn’t-“

“And I didn’t,” he smirked, leaning against a column haughtily, “he’s safe and sound in his home. Just probably panicking over the fact that he can’t find his phone.”

“What?” you managed, still breathless from all the running, “So you tricked me?”

“How else can I get you to come to me,” he raised his brows, arms folded, “Anyway, I’ve held my part of the deal, it’s time for you to hold yours.”

You swallowed thickly. Of course you’d never back away from your promise, not when he has held his, but the way his voice dropped and his gaze darkened was unnerving you, making you feel as if you were walking up a guillotine for your head. “Of course,” you replied, feigning nonchalance, “you didn’t have to trick me with Sunoo, I’d have come to you either way. It’s a promise after all.”

“Oh really?” he walked up to you, his footsteps echoing ominously in the grim room as his eyes begin to lighten in colour – a transition you had seen countless times now but still managed to struck dread in you, “with the way your heart is racing, I doubt that y/n.”

You scoffed, “I ran all the way, of course it’s racing. I’m not you with your slow beating heart or dead heart – whatever it is.”

His brows shot up, slightly taken aback but amused nevertheless – your defiance and answer-backs have always been entertaining, even when it’s irksome, “glad you clarified, I would’ve mistaken it for you being flustered by me, if not intimidated.”

“Cut the chase Sunghoon,” you shot him down, offering your hand, “blood is blood right? it shouldn't matter where it comes from so can't you just make a tear here and take it from here instead of my neck?"

Eyes locked on yours, you can almost see a flicker of irritation in his golden eyes, as he trailed his hand up yours before he gripped it, yanking you close towards him while the other hand swiftly snaked around your back, enrapturing you with him. “are you trying to make discounts right now?” he glowered, his hold as string as iron, as he lowered his face down to yours, his breath hot on your ears, “your neck is where the prize is.”

You furrowed your brows, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stood up. “Fine,” you scowled, “then do it fast, I can’t stand being so close to you.”

“Doesn’t sound like my problem,” he smirked as he suddenly hoisted you up the piano so you’ll be near eye-level with him. "What are yo-" you complained, completely taken aback, your hands fisting his clothes.

“aren’t you going to bare your neck for me?” he eyed your button up, “or you want me to rip it open for you instead?”

“Fuck you,” you spat, begrudgingly unbuttoning your top buttons, staring back at those eyes which were growing luminous by the second as if reflecting the intensity of the hunger inside while his grin grew wider the more skin you exposed. His hand snaked further up your back as he dipped his head and bury it on the crook of your neck. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he muttered breathily against your neck as his other hand wrapped itself tightly over the back of your neck to tilt it slightly, already getting lulled by the warmth radiating from your body and your perfume which was deliciously and intoxicatingly blending with the scent of your blood. As his lips grazed your neck, he felt a spark of electricity – a hint of something more than just hunger.

You flinched when you suddenly felt his fangs puncture your skin – a prickle of pain which quickly diffuses as the weird feeling of haziness set in. Your breath hitched when you feel him bury himself deeper onto the crook of your neck, his nails digging onto your back as the taste of your blood engulfed all of his senses, igniting fire in his veins, setting it all ablaze. Feeling increasingly lulled, your hand automatically flew to his shoulders, holding onto him for support unwittingly.

Sunghoon could feel the hunger within him growing with every drop but perplexingly, the more he drank, the less satiating your blood became, and yet the hunger burns still – as if indicating that there was another hunger growing entrenched that needed sating and it wasn't blood. He pulled back slightly, confused, as he stared onto your neck – now freshly punctured, blood oozing down. You remembered feeling relief when he stopped as you really thought, at the rate at which he was frenzily feeding on you, he would have lost control.

The relief however was short-lived when you felt him plant what felt like a kiss on the spot. You furrowed your brows, utterly confused, only to be jolted back to reality when he did it again, now trailing kisses up your neck. You jerked your head away from him weakly, alarmed, only to be met by a gaze that was so searing and electric with desire – unnerving you more than his hunger-filled gaze ever had. "What are y-" you were going to ask but he never let you finished as he smashed his lips onto yours so hungrily, so urgently, so passionately – impatiently deepening the kiss with so much ferocity as if in a drunken stupor. Struggling to push him off, you leaned back slightly instead, just enough to wedge an arm against him to stop him from descending further while you extended your other hand behind you to prop yourself up against the piano lid. "Sunghoon, what are you doing?!" you demanded breathlessly.

"Isn't this a lesser evil than sucking your blood?" he muttered breathily, eyes completely glazed with lust. Suddenly you feel him grab the back of your thighs, pulling close towards him, causing you to lose your balance as he completely engulfed your frame, pushing you against the piano lid as he recaptured your lips in a fiery kiss. This time, more hungrily, more desperately, more aggressively – completely out of character for him – as if mirroring the unrelenting desire and yearning within, the repression of which was now overspilling uncontrollably. Crushing your body completely against his, he deepened the kiss further – almost urgently – parting your lips so adeptly and slipping his tongue into your mouth, causing you to protest harder though he easily pried your hand off of him, holding it with vice-like grip.

You eventually started to feel lightheaded, your strength quickly dissipating. As you floated in and out of your consciousness, you feel him trailing drunk and hungry kisses down your neck, then your collarbone, his hand tugging your cloths down your shoulders, his nails digging onto your skin possessively.

Then it all went to black.

— viii.

You jolted awake, sitting upright and panting as if you just had a really bad dream. Your hand instinctively reached for your neck and you felt some fresh puncture marks where the old mark used to be. That was when you knew, it wasn’t a dream at all. Well, at least I’m still alive, you were thinking to yourself before realising the unfamiliar bed you were sitting upright on and the unfamiliar black silk slip dress you were wearing. You stared up, aghast, only realising that the bane of your existence was seated on an armchair just opposite of bed, looking visibly amused.

You protectively gathered the blanket around you, trying to cover every inch of your exposed skin, “where am— why are you— what have you done to me?”

As if the circumstances you were in wasn’t questionable enough, the way he sloppily wore his ivory patterned silk shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned in a way that partially exposed his chest, was further shoring it. It was just too casual and leisurely compared to the usual Sunghoon, who had always been neatly dressed to the nines.

“Oh darling,” he drawled as he rose up, walking at a glacial place towards the bed before resting his hands against the top of the footboard, “I’m offended you forgot about what we did. It was pretty wild. Sorry about your clothes though, couldn’t help but rip them to shreds in the heat of the mome-“

You threw a pillow at him, not even letting him finish, as you feel the heat rising up your cheeks, reminded of the way he had ferociously kissed you, the way his lips had trailed over your skin, and the way his hands roamed possessively over you. “Stop playing around,” you balked. He scoffed as he brushed his dishevelled hair back. You realised then that was the first time you’ve seen him with his hair down, since it was always slicked or parted in a way that revealed his forehead, and it was somehow making him look softer than usual – as if he could do no harm though the sly grin and the taunting gaze on his face begged to differ.

He grabbed something from a nearby table, offering it to you, "Stop with the scowling now, I was only joking. Here, take this – it’s a silk robe to cover you if you want. Unless you want to stay under that blanket all day.”

You snatched it begrudgingly from his hand as he continued, “you passed out. Apparently, your blood hasn’t recuperated yet so even my meagre consumption last night caused you to black out. I had a doctor and a nurse over last night to check and replenish you. You should consider taking iron pills and multivitamins you know – you’re borderline anaemic.”

“And whose fault was it in the first place?” you remarked sarcastically as you put on the black silk robe, “anyway, that should be enough signs for you to find a better bloodbag don’t you think? This one is a dud.”

“not in your lifetime,” he quipped.

You furrowed your brows, “well you certainly weren’t just drinking my blood last night.”

“Ah right –,” his brows shot up, a smug grin tugging the corner of his lips, “apparently I wasn’t just hungry for blood. Not when your lips were in such proximity. Also, like I said, wasn't it a lesser evil compared to blood? you won't risk dying."

“I’d rather die, you insufferable prick,” you spat, plastering the fakest and most sarcastic grin you could muster. Sunghoon just smiled bitterly at that. Perhaps eloquence was never his strong suit. Perhaps all the deaths he had to take care of and witnessed over the decades had hardened him. Perhaps his rather strict and disciplined upbringing had skewed his personality in such a way that emotions are to be relegated to the bottom, beneath all else. Whatever it was, he could never compel himself to say the utmost truth to you – disguising everything instead in the most vicious and selfish nonsense he could muster. Sometimes, it almost felt as if he was trying to convince himself, not just you, that it was all just primal desires and nothing more.

“Give me my clothes back,” you demanded, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I’ve chucked it away – it’s all bloodied with some buttons ripped off. Hence, your current get-up—” he gestured, “don’t worry, a female housekeeper was the one who had helped you change but she misunderstood the context and put you into a rather seductive change of outfit. I’m not really complaining thou–” he trailed off, his eyes travelling down your body before you snapped him out of it, “my eyes are up here genius.”

“Sorry, it’s just a bit too distracting,” he cleared his throat, “— anyway, as I was saying, I had someone go and buy more change of clothes for you to change into. You would have to wait though, we’re currently far from the city centre.”

“Then lend me your clothes.”

“I don’t have any,” he replied instantaneously, “I just bought this mansion not too long ago so it's still pretty barren of my stuffs."

It was lie. A lie just so that he can make you stay longer – something out of character for him given how he never liked to linger around his partners. A lie that completely juxtaposed his belief that it was all just primal desires.

“I told you someone is coming with some new change of clothes. Just a few more minutes or hours of wait shouldn’t hurt. Unless you’re comfortable going out in that,” he cocked his head smugly as you eyed your get-up. It definitely was too revealing and probably too inappropriate for your standards as it looked more like a nightgown to be walking around in broad daylight in.

“As if it’s safe to stay here any longer than necessary with you,” you grumbled.

“Let’s just say if I wanted to do something bad to you, I would have already done it,” he muttered as a matter of factly, “you were, after all, passed out for more than 24 hours in a rather seductive dress.”

You glared at him, speechless now.

“Anyway, I’ll get you some food while waiting. You must be famished.”

Just primal desires, he repeated. As if he hadn’t personally tell his cook to make all the dishes that you liked, telling him in minute details how you liked your dish more on the salty side; how you didn't like broccolis and carrots; how you liked your steak medium rare – he knew it so well like the back of his hand. Just primal desires, he reassured himself. As if he hadn’t been selflessly nursing and caring for you all night, mind constantly occupied in worries and guilt for putting you in harm's way.

“I’m not hungry–" you retorted.

"You are. You passed out for more than 24 hours, you need to eat.”

“Well, I don’t want to. I want to go home,” you insisted, adamant.

Eyes locked onto you icily, he leaned down towards you, his hands resting against the mattress, on either side of your thighs, “look, we’re deep in the forest, away from the city. There are no public transport around here and little to no service, so your ticket out of this place is me and unless you eat, you’re not going anywhere.”

Just primal desires, he told himself again just as he spun the web further around you, getting increasingly lulled by the vision before him: you in his bed, in his mansion, away from the city. It was a perfect vision: just you and him, safely tucked away from all the noise, from everyone else. Just you for him.

“You can’t force me.”

“You want to try me?” he raised his brows tauntingly, “because I will carry you downstairs if you insists. I will spoonfeed you if I have to. Or better, I’ll just put the food in my mouth and pass it to you through-“

You shoved him away, vexed, as you rose up from the bed, “you’re such a domineering prick.”

“Only because you’re always so indomitable,” he quipped, looking satisfied even when he had just called you names. You begrudgingly followed him as he led you out of the room through a series of corridors, a grand staircase, past the living room and finally to the kitchen. Unlike his loft which was in modern architecture last time, this place was in Gothic Architecture, just like their hang-out room but with lots of painting, sculptures and books though no amount of adornment could offset the grimness of the place.

Over the dining table was a selection of mouth-watering food – the quality of which looked as if it came from a Michelin-starred restaurant. “I can’t eat these,” you muttered, arms folded, “how do I know you haven’t poisoned them? And how do I know if it isn’t human meat?”

“That’s a very uncivilised and savage take on us. We don’t eat human flesh,” he corrected.

“Still doesn’t root out poisoning,” you insisted, “if you want me to eat then cook something up for me now and let me watch. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”

“You’re very distrustful.”

“I’d be stupid not be after all you put me through,” you snapped.

“Fine,” he exhaled sharply as he moved to the kitchen. You took a seat by the island, watching his every moves like a hawk as he took ingredients out of the fridge and lay it all out in front of you, "happy now?" he asked, gesturing at the frozen chicken meat. He then proceeded to chop up some aromatics so adeptly, as if he had done this a million times, after setting a pot to boil.

"How you even know how to cook? you guys don’t really eat and even if you do I’m pretty sure you have a cook to do that for you, no?”

“We don’t derive any satisfaction from eating anything but consuming blood so yes, we don’t really eat. But we’ve lived alongside humans for so long, we’ve got to learn the trade somehow,” he proceeded to wash the chicken meat – cleaning it so adeptly and meticulously with salt, lemon and vinegar. You soon got distracted by the pictures that lined the walls in the dining room – some of which featured him and his clique in garbs from different eras though they looked the same physically – only slightly younger and shorter in a few pictures. You looked back at him, scrutinising him when his eyes flitted to you, "are you wondering how old I am?”

“No. Why would I be curious about you?”

“Around 120,” he smirked relishing in the way your eyes widened and the way you pressed your lips together to suppress a gasp, “that’s the equivalent of 20s in human age by the way.”

“Do you guys just stop ageing physically beyond a certain threshold or something?”

“I thought you said you weren’t interested,” he gibed as he began frying – the scent soon filling the air deliciously, making your mouth water, "We do. But physically, it kind of slows down once we enter our teen. Usually at a rate of 1 year for every 10 human years or something.”

Looking over his shoulders, he asked, “Anything else you’re interested about? I’ll entertain. I’d rather be interrogated than be glowered at. You’re starting bore holes on my back.”

You lifted both of your legs up on the stool, hugging your knees close to your chest as you pondered carefully. You had a lot of questions truth to be told but after insisting that you had nothing to be curious about when it comes to him – that would be embarrassing. That being said, one pertinent question continue to burn in the back of your mind and no amount of pride could quell the curiosity behind that. “Did you kill them?” you finally asked after bouts of hesitation.

He switched off the stove and turned around, placing the pan onto a mat on the island, his eyes meeting yours in that signature chilling precision, “you mean am I the actual town’s serial killer?” he stretched his hands against the marble island, brows raised expectantly, gaze locked onto yours, “what do you think?”

You stared back into his eyes, scanning his face for any microchange in expressions that could've served as a hint. "No," you answered.

“That’s surprising,” he leaned back, arms folded, “thought you think of me as the big bad wolf?”

“I used to think you might have something to do with it,” you muttered honestly, “but I no longer think it has to do with the killing. Probably more on the covering up.”

He turned his attention back to the stove, attending the sauce that he had already started cooking earlier, “You’re correct. I didn’t kill any of them.”

“Was it Jungwon?”

“He was responsible for a couple of them,” he muttered without looking at you, “but it was a combination of other stray vampires too – the ‘unnaturals’ we call them. They are human-turned vampires – which has been alarmingly on the rise in this town over the past few years. There aren’t really any good reason to turn human into vampires unless you’re psychotic because ‘unnaturals’ are hard to control as you need to keep them constantly guided, trained and supervised – without which they'd just run amok, turning into a bloodthirsty fiend that pose risks to both humans, and us alike, risking our exposure.”

“So you covered the murders?”

You could see him nodding briefly as he turned around, plating the food neatly onto a plate, “since we are the official pure bloods currently residing in this town – the council of elders sought our help both to maintain order and catch the culprit.”

“So you're doing something good in a sense?” you raised your brows, “but still, you did bite the head cheerleader and Jungwon.”

“And you, too,” he added nonchalantly as he placed the meal he had cooked up in front of you, “Well I never said I was a good guy in the first place. We still need blood to live – we usually could substitute it for animal blood or bagged blood but blood from a living human is different. It’s far superior in taste, satiety and nutrients if you will. So preying on human for blood was never really banned for us vampires but it has to be done responsibly. If accidents happen, we must also ensure that they are taken care of. Though it should be avoided because too many accidents would definitely reach the ears of the councils.”

“Hence why the head cheerleader, Jungwon and you,” he emphasized, “still lives. Though unfortunately Jungwon got picked up by another pure blood, that we didn't roamed around, as I left him unattended while he passed out. This might have been the same pure blood who had been stirring chaos around town too.”

“Then why is it that you keep coming back for me and not leave me alone like the cheerleader or Jungwon?” you asked boldly.

“Because you're so vexing,” he muttered back, deadpanned.

“Then you should’ve killed me the first time you had bitten onto me,” you shot back.

"You’re not wrong, that was indeed my biggest mistake".

Your blood definitely fitted his palate so well – something that was rare for someone so picky like him. But more than that, there was something about you that had completely dumbfounded him. He found that the more he drink your blood, the hungrier he became but instead of fully descending down the animalistic spiral as he usually would have, the more his consciousness re-emerged. This was the reason why he had always been able to stop himself from succumbing into a feeding frenzy with you. The hunger however would still be there, growing more entrenched by the second, burning him from within but the satiation of that apparently lied elsewhere: in your lips; in your skin; in your warmth – you.

Had he killed you in the first place, he could have saved himself all the troubles. He could have just ended it with fury and bitterness. But now he was in too deep.

“You had a couple of other chances too,” you continued prodding, “what’s stopping you?”

He sighed, swivelling your chair so you faced him, as he leaned down towards you, his hand on either side of you, “if something is delicious, it has to be savoured. That’s what I’m doing with you. It’s not often that someone comes along with blood that perfectly matches my picky palate.”

You scoffed, “then explain the kisses.”

“Well, the act of feeding is not really as innocent as the act of normal eating is it? Think about it,” he trailed his finger down your jawline, to your neck, “it’s my lips, on your neck. Then of course, there’s the proximity, the hands, the heat of our bodies – everything pretty much easily coalesce into lusts especially in the heat of delirium-“ his eyes begin to inadvertently flit from your eyes to your lips, the flicker of desire apparent.

Sure, he wasn’t lying but Sunghoon was no hormonal teenager who could easily be lulled with such desires and he knew it well. It takes a lot to incite something like that in him. But you don’t have to know that, he thought to himself.

You smacked his hand away. You didn’t expect him to say something sweet and mushy obviously but you would be lying if his words doesn’t sear. All the better, you tell yourself, reassuring that this way, you can stop feeling guilty or thankful to him beyond what is necessary. That you can just dampen any glimmer of thought that Sunghoon is different than what he present to be. “The deal was to offer my blood not to be your slvt,” you rolled your eyes as you swivelled your chair back towards the table, picking up the cutleries, "If I finish these, you’ll send me home immediately?”

He nodded, chin resting on his palm with his elbows propped against the table as he watched you, his lips curving unknowingly in such a gentle way as he watched you savour the food, your brows all knitted-up, your head nodding in satisfaction, “I take it that you like my cooking?”

“Only because I’m starving,” you grumbled, surprised at how hungry you actually were, finishing your meal faster than you usually would. You pushed the empty plates, staring back at him, “I’m full. Give me the clothes you promised me and send me home now.”

“Of course,” he gestured, fishing out his phone. Suddenly, an older man in dark suit and slicked-back hair entered the kitchen, carrying paper bags from luxurious brands. “They’re all yours, change into whichever you like. You can find me in the living room once you’re done.”

“These-“ you panicked, looking at the tags, each having more digits than you could ever afford, “I can’t accept all of them – they cost a fortune!”

“they cost nothing to me,” he shrugged, “treat it as a gift or something. You had, after all been, rather satisfactory.”

You scoffed, his choice of words always so offensive and searing. Begrudgingly you trudged up to the washroom, changing into the plainest one you could find out of the bunch – a simple ivory ruffle satin blouse from Hermes. You re-emerged from the washroom, dumping the bags in front of him, “I don’t want any of it. And this-“ you gestured to the blouse you were wearing, “I’ll repay you.”

“You’re always so stubborn, it’s just a token of appreciation,” he shrugged, rising up, guiding you through a series of corridors towards the main entrance.

“What we had was a deal,” you emphasized, “there is no need for any sort of appreciation there. It’s purely transactional.”

“You’re always so cold,” he muttered, opening the door of his G-Wagon for you, “and I’m insufferable – we’re perfect for each other.”

You glared at him as you entered his car, grabbing onto the door to close it before he could even close it for you.

If it was up to him, he wouldn't send you home at all. He would just continue to spin the web around you, keep you close with him, lock you inside with him. But he knew not to push buttons too far. He had plenty of time.

He had forever.

— ix.

Days turned to weeks then turned to months, and true to his words, Sunghoon really never let your deal nor you go. Being the insufferable prick he is however, he took to snatching you away out of the blue while you were in the campus corridors, into an empty class room, empty closet, empty toilet, dark and desolated library corners , you name it, just to feed on you in the most thrilling way.

“Blood tends to taste better when hearts race. How else can I do that than to take you by surprise?” he grinned slyly as he pushed you against the wall, completely unbothered that someone could have always walked in on you both. With eyes that had rapidly lightened to golden and canines erupting into full fangs, his hands would always be so swift and adept, already unbuttoning your top buttons or sometimes, tugging your shirt down your shoulders impatiently while the other hand seized your head like talons – as if he hadn’t already pinned you up against a surface with his massive frame.

While the prickle of pain that followed no longer made you jump nor flinch, you could never get used to the act of him sucking your blood through your neck. With fear and dread now subsiding, the intimacy of the act, like he had said before, was now too discernible to ignore: his soft lips on your neck, the way his hands and fingers roamed and gripped you, the way his head bob against the crook of your neck, the way his body was pressed up against you, and of course, the gaze as he pulled away – a gaze with smouldering intensity which never failed to make your heart race. It’s just transactional, you would tell yourself, you’re nothing but a bloodbag y/n, you reassured yourself.

Except you didn’t know how much longer you could tell yourself that especially after you bumped into Heeseung one day in one of the empty corridors. His eyes trained on the fresh puncture wounds on your neck, “I hope he’s not overdoing it.”

Your hand immediately flew to your neck, covering it – as if it was some sort of a hickey to be shameful about. You gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement before brushing past him though he grabbed your wrist mid-way with a grip that felt like iron – a stark contrast with the gentle and amiable image he was well-known for. But then again, you reminded yourself, he’s a vampire just like Sunghoon – it might all just be a façade.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he reassured, letting your hand go, “I just need a quick word.”

“Then be quick,” you relented, folding your arms defensively, maintaining a certain distance.

“I don’t how far you have gone with Sunghoon but let me tell you, you guys may be perfect for each other in a complementary way but,” he hesitated, “it could also coalesce perfectly into toxicity.”

"You've got it all wrong," you corrected, "we haven’t 'gone' anywhere. And we won’t. There is no way I would develop feelings for him and there is no way he would develop feelings for me when he could have anyone with the snap of a finger. Whatever we have, it’s completely transactional. So don’t worry about it.”

“It's you who I am worried for,” he sighed, eyes softening in such a way that conveyed genuine worry, “I can assure you that the fact that you went this far with him – breaking almost every guard he has and bending him in ways he had never allowed, meant something. I can’t speak for him but I’ve known him for decades to know a breach when there is one."

“That being said, obsession driven by attraction can be just as dangerous as contempt,” he continued as he fished out a crystal vial which was filled with dark red liquid, “it doesn’t matter if you like him back or not – if he wants you, he’ll make sure he’ll own you and the moment he feels like he’s losing you, his claws will just tighten.”

Suddenly he offered the vial towards you, “here's a chance for you to cut yourself from him.”

You eyed it suspiciously, "Is it poison? Are you asking me to poison him?”

“Don’t be silly. It’s kind of like a tranquiliser for us,” he beckoned you to take it, “it’s time for us to move away but he had been adamant in sticking around. I can’t let that happen but at the same time he’s too strong and too stubborn to listen,” he sighed, “so if you feel that there is any truth in what I have said, feed him this – however you see fit. It’s potent so just a drop is enough to incapacitate him momentarily. I’ll know when it works so I’ll quickly go to you when that happens and take him away."

You reluctantly took it from his hand, “and if I don’t?"

“Then I can’t save you anymore,” he mustered a weak smile.

"Why would you help me? He's your friend," you questioned.

"Exactly because he's my friend," he muttered despondently, "you both are poison to one another. Ive been through such tragedy once, I'm not letting him go through it."

You remembered tossing and turning that very night as Heeseung’s words replay in your mind incessantly like a broken record. Even when you’ve chucked the vial in the deepest corner of your drawer, under a bunch of other stuffs, you still can’t help but think of it.

Eventually, you rose up from your bed, reluctantly opening the drawer where the vial had been hidden away. Hugging your knees close to your chest, you held the vial in your hand up against night light.

Back then, you would have killed for this chance to rid of him. Yet now that the chance is right in your hand, you find yourself hesitating, thinking of reasons why you shouldn't instead.

— x.

Eventually you’ve reached the end of your academic year – all your hard work, labouring in the library and burning the midnight oil, culminated in distinctions. Not even waiting until graduation, you soon fell into another set of routine, from part-timing; volunteering to job-searching – already eager to start the next part of your life. This in turn had also limited the amount of times you bump into Sunghoon which was ideal, you thought, though he had now taken to appearing at your balcony at odd hours once or twice a month.

Like a loan shark, he just never missed asking for his due.

“Why can’t you drop by during day time or something?” you grumbled lethargically as you opened your balcony door at 3AM, "suddenly sensitive to sunlight are you?"

“You’re busy in the daytime,” he said as a matter-of-factly, closing the door behind him as if it was already a routine, “unless you want me to crash your part-time or volunteering places-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. Funny how capable you are of being considerate,” you sighed, gesturing him over, “let’s get it done with, it’s late.”

You don’t know if the new night routine was skewing your perception or if Heeseung’s words had started to sow seeds in your mind unwittingly but it was becoming alarmingly apparent to you how with every bite, everything felt less transactional from Sunghoon’s side. From the gentler touches; the possessive grasps; and the gaze that lingered longer – conveying more than the usual hunger within. Tonight, too, it felt all the more apparent as you flinched, suddenly feeling his cold tongue slid over your puncture wounds, catching the blood that trailed down.

“I told you not to do that,” you protested, edging your face slightly away from him, meeting his eyes that stared back with such smouldering intensity that it was making your heart flip.

“What if I want to?” he asked, face completely impassive, but gaze darkening by the second. You swallowed thickly as you stared back into those eyes while leaning back slowly, as if trying to probe the depth of his mind and test if there was any grain of truth to Heeseung’s words. He followed suit, face charging slowly towards you, as if chasing yours – his hands never leaving your waists and his gaze locking with yours yours in a gaze that was so electrifying.

You could have recoiled, you could have jerked away, you could have turned, you could have pushed him – but almost as if drawn by the gravity that seemingly existed between you and him, you just backed away slowly, eyes locked with his. You feel his hips pressing onto you as your back hit the countertop, giving you no more chance to back away. Face now only inches away from you with gaze that was so electric with desires, you can feel his breath hot against your lips and his body warm against yours – the warmth of which you didn’t expect from him, given how he was usually cold to the touch.

Again, you could have turned away. But you didn’t. Instead you let him draw nearer, his lips now ghosting over yours, his hand tracing the curvature of your spine, fingers folding protectively as it slid over the side of your ribs – the air crackling with electricity, with tension that is so palpable, it could have cut. If it was just primal desires on his side, he should have no problem breaking the tension by forcing a kiss on you – something he had done before. If it was just complete vehemence on your side, you should have shoved him away – something you had always done before too. But instead, you two just let yourselves bask in the moment of utter hesitance – just one move away from breaking the tension that warped the air and letting it all crumble.

His eyes flitted from your eyes to your lips, prompting you to do the same – the gaze from both of which was just oozing in repressed desires and bottled emotions. As if mirroring the restraint that was hanging by the last thread, his fingers had begun to dug painfully into your ribs and you had begun to tightly clench a fistful of his shirt.

You could see it then, in the depths of his searing gaze, that the flicker of desire, was catching flames. “No—” you weakly mustered, turning away just a fraction of seconds after he leaned in, evading the capture of his lips. You feel his breathing hot and laboured against your jaw, where he stayed rooted instead. You squeezed your eyes shut, disappointed at yourself for almost succumbing, "leave," was all you could managed as you pushed him weakly.

Perplexingly, and rather fortunately, he complied, weakly prying himself away from you though in such an agonisingly slow pace. “—now,” you insisted, daring to look back into his eyes – which was surprisingly gentle and pensive this time. You knew then, he was cracking.

You brushed past him, leaving your room, feeling nauseated as you wondered, if you had cracked too?

By the time you returned to your room, it was already empty though the tension from before still hung in the air, proceeding to haunt you for the remainder of the night over why and what could have been.

— xi.

Perhaps he had gotten bored of you. Perhaps the realisation that something was budding beyond normalcy was hitting his pride badly that he needed to step back. Perhaps, he had really moved abroad with Heeseung like what Heeseung had planned. Whatever it was, you hadn’t seen him since that evening – something you were of course, grateful for.

Sometimes, you feel his presence in the crowd and in the shadows as you go about your way, volunteering, working part-time, interviewing and so on – but he was never there. Just your imagination and skewed intuition. Tonight too as you attended the graduation after-party, you thought you saw his face in the midst of the crowd; his presence in the shadows; and his voice amidst the cacophony of noise. But again, you were wrong and you chalked it all up to exhaustion.

Eventually you slip away to the balcony, trying to find a momentary respite as your head had begun to splinter from all the socializing.

“Want me to take you away?”

You jumped, your train of thoughts came crashing.

Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself as you exhaled sharply, startled, at the sight of Sunghoon leaning against the door frame.

“You look bored,” he continued, letting himself in and closing the door behind him to shield you two away from any prying eyes, “of course you are, you hate crowds and you hate celebration”.

“You missed graduation,” was all you could muster.

“We’ve graduated countless of times so it means nothing to us,” he shrugged.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you’re here,” he replied very quickly with no taunting smirk, unlike usual.

You sighed as you leaned back against the bannister, turning your head sideway and baring your neck, “don’t take too much, we’re in public.”

He scoffed, “that’s touching and all but I’m not a monster. You’re not just a bloodbag to me.”

You abruptly turned your head towards him, brows furrowed, "but I’m just supposed to be a blood bag to you.”

“that’s not for you to dictate.”

Suddenly, you heard a piercing scream from inside. You rushed towards the door, seeing the crowd clamouring over Nicholas who had been carried on a stretcher. Nicholas was the guy you had gotten close with over the past few weeks since you two had started interning together. You immediately rushed towards the door, about to re-enter the hall when Sunghoon stopped you, his grip over your wrist felt almost like iron, "he’s not dead yet. Just fainted.”

You looked at him in horror, “what do you mea- did you do this?”

“You probably didn’t realise it but he had underlying intentions towards you,” he muttered flatly, his grip unrelenting, “he spiked your drink.”

“He- what?” you stopped protesting, reminded of the way both Sunoo and even Ni-Ki had warned you against him, though you didn’t pay too much attention to it since he had always been so nice with you, “but that doesn’t- that doesn’t mean you have to take it in your hands and incapacitate him.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t drink a lot. I just exert certain pressure on his hand and neck to make him pass out. After hurling a bunch of threats to him, that is.”

"You really need to be careful with who you interact with," he cautioned, "human are very easy. They catch feelings very easily."

It suddenly dawned on you horrifyingly that perhaps your intuition had been right. That it had always been him, in the crowd and in the shadows, always closely following and watching. Heeseung’s words begin to flood your mind.

"Obsession driven by attraction is just as dangerous as contempt". "It doesn’t matter if you like him back or not – if he wants you, he’ll make sure he’ll own you and the moment he feels like he’s losing you, his claws will just tighten".

"Euijoo, from my part-time job-" you asked, voice shaky as you were reminded of how he had suddenly submitted his resignation letter without bidding you goodbye just a day after he confessed to you, "was that your doing too?"

"You've always hated receiving confessions and the guilt in your face throughout the whole night was pretty telling of it," he quipped, "I was just doing you a favour no? I didn't bite him though. Just told him off and offer him money. You can still find him in the bookstore near the mall, alive and annoyingly cheery as usual."

You looked at him, completely aghast. Realizing the truth a tad bit too late. Of how you are completely entrapped within his claws with other people being wrought in it as well.

He scoffed, looking hurt, “Why are you staring at me like that? I was only looking out for you – in both instances,” he tugged onto your arm, pulling you into an embrace that gradually tightened in a way snake constricts its prey, "can’t you see? the length I go for you.”

You wanted to push him off but almost like a muscle memory, it gave up after a few attempts, unwittingly melting into his embrace in defeat as the guilt filled you and the dread hounded you.

“Let’s head home,” he murmured softly into your hair.

Obviously you wanted nothing to do with him anymore tonight but you knew him – you knew that look in his eyes, you knew that grip around your hand, so you just obliged, excusing yourself to the restroom for a bit to collect yourself. He nodded, giving you a brief smile, “don’t run away okay?”

It was such a harmless sentence delivered in the gentlest way and yet, you could feel the way it’s laced almost like a threat.

The ride back home was mostly silent, your mind racing with a billion thoughts. He walked you up to your door silently. As you turned your doorknob, you muttered, “I’m moving in a few days.”

“I heard,” he replied almost instantaneously, “you landed a job at one of the big-3 right?”

You turned around, mustering the courage, “what would happen to our deal?”

“What about it? I’ve secured the unit next to yours,” he replied so nonchalantly, “it would be as if nothing had changed.”

“you what? But how–" Your brows knit in dismay. Only Sunoo knew about you getting the job and moving so for Sunghoon to have not just known the news but have also secured the unit next to yours was filling you with so much terror.

“You know me, what I want, I get.”

Heeseung's words rang in your mind deafeningly again.

He furrowed his brows, “what? You didn’t expect the deal to just end like that did you?” He scoffed, taking steps towards you, his footsteps echoed ominously in the hallway, “it won’t. I won’t let it.”

“Sunghoon, back off-“ you warned as you backed away into your home, swiftly about to close the door on him but he was faster as he wedged his shoe in between, pushing the door open, letting himself in, "you won't ever escape me y/n, I own you – that permanent mark on your neck should serve as a constant reminder for you."

Sunghoon didn't know why he was all riled up – perhaps it's the look of terror in your eyes. After all he had done for you, all the patience and considerations he had also imparted to you – what he got back was instead a look of fear. And he thought you guys were making good progress over the past few months, despite some hiccups now and then.

“Sunghoon, I am not yours and I will never be so you have no righ-“

He tugged your hand, slamming you against the door, not letting you finish your sentence at all. You shuddered as you looked up into his eyes – the steeliness of which you hadn't seen in a while that you forgot just how intimidating and paralyzing it was.

“you said it yourself, it’s all primal desires," you protested, writhing under his grasps.

“Haven’t I shown you enough? Displayed enough patience, enough consideration and enough restraint? Are those not enough as indication?” he asked, the disappointment so evident in the strain of his voice and weight of his stare.

“It’s all just obsession, you’re mistaking it,” you argued.

He scoffed, his eyes suddenly golden, his hand cradling the back of your head, “why don’t we see who’s mistaking what?”

You wedged a hand, palming him by the chest, “Sunghoon-“ your eyes were almost pleading but he was already seeing red – blinded by obsession, clouded by anger – as he crushed your body against his, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue soon pried your lips apart, deepening his kiss so desperately and hungrily, in a way that you could feel all the emotions he had bottled and repressed for you – from the anger, the bitterness, the yearning and the longing. You tried to shove him away, knowing very well you were of no match against him – not when he was completely overtaken by his his desires and impulses.

Suddenly he pulled away, his eyes staring back at you in alarm. By the time he realized something was wrong, it was far too late, as he teetered backwards unwittingly, knocking vases and books over, before he collapsed to the floor, breathing becoming more laborued. His face soon contorted in to a mixture of fury and hurt as he stared back at you, “you-“

Your legs buckled under you as you stared weakly at him, your eyes somehow misty as you watched him struggle. When you used the washroom earlier, you had mixed the red liquid from the vial that Heeseung had given you, with your lipstick – remembering how he said it won’t have an effect on human and that that it was so potent on vampires that even a drop would've sufficed. You then proceeded to apply it on your lips, your gut feelings telling you that you might need it tonight. As your gut feelings had told you, you indeed needed it.

A dark figure suddenly materialised behind Sunghoon – it was Heeseung, looking forlornly at the way Sunghoon was all hunched up over the floor, coughing, feeling his strength dissipating by the second despite his efforts. He glowered with every muscle he had left in his face, at Heeseung who was holding him by his arm, then to you. Locked to your eyes, his gaze hardened, almost that with utter fury though his misty eyes conveyed otherwise. Heeseung gave you a brief appreciative nod, before he wrapped his cloak over Sunghoon, both vanishing into thin air within split seconds after.

You should be elated that the bane of your existence was now gone, probably for eternity, but a tear soon rolled down your cheeks. Though you couldn’t tell, nor do you want to, if it was simply out of guilt, sadness or regret.

A/N: Hello everyone! If you've reached here then thank you so much for presevering through this massive chapter (and I -oop 💀) I hope it has been an interesting ride and thank you for sticking by and showing so much interest for this series. This particular chapter went through massive overhaul multiple times lol but thank goodness Dark Blood came in just in time to give me a new burst of energy and motivation wheee If you saw my previous post and had been waiting for it, I apologise for the delay huhuu I got stuck in some parts 💀 Ps. If you enjoy this, shower it with some love by leaving me some comments on it hehe I dont bite 🙆🏻‍♀️

#enhypen vampire #enhypen imagines #enhypenwriters #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon vampire #kpop imagines #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen sunghoon scenarios #kpop scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen vampire au

401 notes · View notes

lfghughes · 7 months

Note

love your work :)

i was wondering if you could write like friends to lovers w nico with like a ton of tension 🙏🙏

im so obsessed with this man its unhealthy

a/n: friends to lovers is def my thing. im a true sucker for these plots.

You had been friends with Nico for years now and even though you two hadn’t grown up together sometimes it felt like you had. He was one of those people that once you two had started talking it had felt like you had known each other for ages. He had been there for you through a lot of your big life changes and you had been there for him through the ups and downs of his life. Recently you had moved out to the city and between your schedule and his schedule you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like.

Right now it had felt like forever since you had last seen Nico and that was probably because it had been forever. For the summer he had gone back home for a little bit and you had stayed distracted at work. But now with the summer coming to an end he was officially back in New Jersey and both of you had already made plans for you to come by in the weekend to see him. The best part about your friendship was the fact that no matter how many weeks you two went without seeing each other or talking, it was so easy to jump back in.

The weekend had finally gotten here and now with most of the boys back they had all decided to go out and you had driven in from the city to go see Nico specifically, although you were pretty decent friends with some of the other boys that had been around for a few seasons. The night had started off great but as the night kept on progressing you noticed a small thing that started bothering you a little.

One thing about going out with a hockey team was that you were bound to get a lot of attention, girls would come over to talk to the boys and guys would come over for the same. Every once in a while you’d get a guy express some interest in you but their interest usually disappeared once Nico would come over to you. That was something that was currently happening. “Do you want a drink?” A random guy had asked but before you could even get an answer out Nico had answered for you. “She’s good.” And jus like that he had moved his body between yours and the guy who had come up to you.

Slowly throughout the night you started picking up more and more on little things like that and you didn’t know why suddenly Nico was playing this protective role over you because last you had checked he wasn’t your boyfriend. Not that you particularly would mind that but Nico had always made it clear that he didn’t have an interest in you romantically so you weren’t going to express your small little crush to him.

A huff escaped your lips as Nico once again made his way into another conversation between you and another guy at the bar. “You’re being annoying.” You told him and his eyebrows furrowed at you. “What do you mean?” He asked and you waved your hand to the people around you. “Any guy that tries to talk to me you scare off.” All he did was shrug at those words which only annoyed you more. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

So maybe you were being a little over dramatic but it was late and you were tired and cranky. You exited out the door of the bar and started towards your car. “Wait..” You heard Nico’s voice come up from behind you and even though you wanted to keep going you paused and turned around. “I’m not in the mood, Nico.” You told him but before you could even turn back around his hands had gone to the side of your face, cupping your cheeks and suddenly his lips were on yours. Even though you were caught by surprise, you returned the kiss easily.

You had pictured this moment before and well Nico ended up being a lot better of a kisser than you even imagined. When he pulled away you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that the kiss was over but you were also still shocked at what had just happened between the two of you. Shocked enough that the only word you could conjure up at the moment was “Oh…"

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb

172 notes · View notes

homoeroticbetrayal · 1 year

Text

Iconic Homoerotic Betrayal: Round 3

Poll Directory

Context:

Judas/Jesus

Summary by Clock

Judas sold Jesus to the Romans for 13 pieces of silver. He signaled the Romans and marked out Jesus amongst the disciples with a kiss. (He could have just pointed and said "that's Jesus" but he decided to kiss Jesus one last time.) He later hung himself, the 13 pieces of silver laid unspent by his feet.

Lelouch/Suzaku

Summary by Anonymous Contributor

szll is already iconic but I'm just going to list all their betrayals (and perceived betrayals) as a refresher:

(first, for context, one thing you gotta understand is lelouch, leader of the rebellion who believes ends justify the means, is also the discarded prince of the empire he's fighting against. suzaku, rising knight of the empire who believes means have to justify the ends, is the son and killer of the prime minister of the country being oppressed. this is PEAK narrative foils and enemies-to-lovers recipe right there.)

- lelouch and nunnally were sent to japan as political hostages. britannia takes over japan quickly after and lelouch, knowing how much japan means to suzaku, promises to destroy britannia. suzaku should be angry at britannia! lelouch will free them!! except years later he learns that suzaku is now WORKING for the empire? he's becoming a KNIGHT for the empire, betraying his own country and their shared hatred for britannia. what the fuck, what happened to principles, suzaku? this is lelouch's first (perceived) betrayal.

- lelouch (accidentally) kills euphemia, the only princess who's trying to make peace with the japanese, the princess that suzaku is knight of, the princess suzaku LOVES and lelouch adores. now yes, this was an accident, but lelouch ROLLS WITH IT and lets suzaku and the rest of the world believe that it was intentional, thus fully driving that knife deep. he never tells suzaku this was an accident. this is suzaku's most painful betrayal.

- suzaku finds out lelouch is zero, leader of the rebellion, and turns him in to his evil dad, emperor of the empire, in exchange for becoming a knight of round (the highest military status). now if you count akito the exiled as canon, this also means sending lelouch to be BRAINWASHED into serving the empire as a master tactician before R2 happens. suzaku monitors him all throughout, watching lelouch destroy nations and praise the empire against his own principles.

this is just season one of code geass. this doesn't even touch how suzaku is also forced to betray his own loyalties/principles sometimes whenever the "live" geass that lelouch condemns him with acts up. how suzaku would monitor lelouch and keep deceiving him that rolo is his beloved sibling, not nunnally. etc etc.

AND YET despite all of this, code geass culminates with them SWEARING LOYALTY to each other, with lelouch becoming the demon emperor and suzaku becoming his right-hand man, the knight of zero. lelouch becomes a tyrant that suzaku is destined to kill. lelouch brings peace to the world but will never be able to live in it. he will always be remembered as the dictator, the scourge of the world. suzaku atones for all his sins by being reduced to a heroic symbol, by being punished to kill his best friend and never becoming suzaku the person ever again. with the "live" geass, he is cursed to never die, never to escape, always bearing both of their sins -- the eternal punishment he has been seeking. and by killing lelouch, he is able to avenge euphemia in the end, and bring the peace all three of them desired.

code geass is a hot mess but there is poetry in their betrayals. they are thematically bound to live this tragedy, and that is why they are iconic. the ending of code geass is well-known and highly regarded as one of the most iconic endings ever, and it can only ever be so because it stands on the love and loss and betrayals of suzaku and lelouch.

See other descriptions of Suzalulu

#jedas #suzalulu #polls #suzaku kururugi #lelouch lamperouge #jesus christ #judas iscariot #jesus christ superstar #code geass

485 notes · View notes

kimbureh · 2 months

Text

Rescue = Family

The new episode of TBB (S03E04) further develops the theme of "rescue means family". Since season 1, Hunter is occupied with rescuing Omega cuz she's family to him. Echo rescues regs cuz they are family to him. Rescuing someone means accepting them into your family; not rescuing someone means rejecting them from your family. The latter thing is what happened to Crosshair (kinda like in a messy breakup, where Hunter takes the kid cuz Crosshair is a neglectful parent, lol).

Crosshair is the lone wolf, lonely sniper type. He doesn't have a family because he hasn't mastered the art of rescuing someone. The series has established the connection of "rescuing someone means they're family" numerous times, and Crosshair has never managed to rescue anybody. He arguably tried in the season 1 finale by offering the squad a place with the Empire, but while this might have been a good offer in Crosshair's mind, it was ultimately toxic and bound to fail. Crosshair tries again to save someone on Barton-4 where Mayday dies in his arms after a long struggle; Crosshair was ready to form a bond, but external circumstances (aka the Empire) prevented that. The Empire, of course, has a vested interest in isolating its soldiers from each other; the brotherly bonds between the clones are a liability and are therefore replaced by conscripted recruits who don't share a familial connection. There can't be a family under the regime of the Empire, that's why Crosshair's attempts of rescue have to fail as long as he's with them.

In season 3, Crosshair no longer is with the Empire, and *finally* his rescue attempts aren't toxic anymore, he just complains about them all the time, haha. Healing kinda feels uncomfortable and Crosshair is very vocal about that discomfort, but he *is* on a path of learning how to bond. Omega and Crosshair rescue each other during their escape. And then Crosshair saves the dog in episode 4, the very same episode in which Crosshair is called a Dad. He is finally crossing the threshold of being toxic and isolated and steps towards becoming an actual parent/family member.

That's the analysis part, speculation ahead.

I think The Harbinger (title of episode 8) refers to Tech who is now with the Empire. If that was the case, Crosshair gets a chance to rescue him. If Tech is with the Empire, he represents Crosshair's former self. Crosshair would not only be able to rescue his teammate and affirm his family bonds with him, but he also metaphorically gets to save himself. Imperial Tech needs saving, just as Crosshair did when he was with the Empire and suffering from this decision. It would be a chance for Hunter to make things right with Crosshair via Tech and not again leave behind a family member with the Empire, even if they act toxic (or incomprehensible).

I expect the family/squad only to grow from here on out. I think Echo isn't in season 3 so far for a very good reason; he'll show up to rescue Tech (cuz that'll be a group effort), and once Tech is back, Echo's role is to expand the family even further by connecting the Bad Batch family with the Reg family. Since Echo is both, a Bad Batcher *and* a reg, he is in the unique position to unify the two branches of the family. I think that would be a rewarding high note with which to end the series; the Batch and the regs overcoming their differences and reuniting as the family they have always been.

[all of my TBB meta here]

77 notes · View notes

hopes-peak-postal-company · 6 months

Note

For Mod Hajime, i hope this doesnt sound weird but could you do a platonic fatherly yandere imagine post with Elias Bouchard? I like to imagine he fixates on a new Institute hire who doesnt know the fears are real and just decides "Its Child time. There is nothing I wont do to make my new child happy." But he also has to work around Jon and them getting in his way because they just dont GET that he's a Father now.

A FATHER'S LOVE!

"surely you'd choose your father over your friends, wouldn't you?"

summary. getting a job at a spooky academic institute offers toms of spooky outcomes. you just didn't expect to get a father figure and a overlyprotective friend group.

contents. platonic yandere! elias; elias is a wet cat grandpa; the archivist gang are slightly yandere; happens right after season 1

✦ It was difficult. Getting by in the big London city and rent to your flat was quite ridiculously high, even for usual london rent standard. But thankfully, a position in The Magnus Institute had opened and you managed to get the spot after wrangling out your best qualities to the HR like you're trading them.

✦ Now, you were aware of what you were getting into. I mean, an institute that's notorious for having many people going MIA or dying, but this was the only job that accepted you out of the millions you applied for and frankly, it pays better than most of them.

✦ So, you worked as the institute's librarian. It shocked you to know that they have their own personal library but at the same time, you kind of expected it. After all, it is an academic institute and there's bounds to be numerous books and soucres to cite for every statement given, regardless of how strange there are.

✦ You've met a couple on the job. Some were nice and often has small talks with you while some simply comes and goes, not even bothering to talk to you unless they're checking a book out. It was fine, of course, you can't help but feel disheartened. After all, all you do is stand by, organize the library and do nothing. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.

✦ And then, one day, a certain someone came to the library and it was no one other than big boss himself— Elias Bouchard. You never met the man before, only hearing him from Rosie and the others, but he is generally well-disliked by his own staff. You had nothing to complain about him and honestly, you find his company nice.

✦ He comes to the library whenever he has free time and then would talk to you. It wasn't just small talk, not just noise coming out of his mouth to fill in the silence, but he talked to you. He told you so many things— his opinions, his likes and dislikes —and even asked you about yours.

✦ Elias would listen intently, taking in every information about yourself in a manner so ... different from how he usually carried himself. Elias Bouchard was a prideful asshole and you knew that obviously well from just his body language, and yet when it comes to you, he is oddly soft. He reminds you almost like a dad for some reasons.

✦ And your relationship with your boss became like that. You didn't mind, you understand to some degree but even still you couldn't wrap your mind around why he chose specifically you. Maybe he didn't choose or maybe he did, but either way, this outcome was better than him hating you.

✦ But then, only a few months into your job, you suddenly got promoted to assistant archivist, joining the very few others in the archives in their day-to-day life.

✦ It was ... suffocating at first. The institute did suffer damage from the Prentiss Attack as you heard from the other employees and with the archives being the main target for the worms, it was not surprise that the Archivist and his team suffered greatly. Though injured, all of them still came back in one piece so that was a good thing.

✦ It took a while getting to know the others: Martin was the quickest to befriend and he'd bring you your favourite cup of tea whenever he can. Tim was the second, jokingly flirting with you at first but he was comfortable to be around and somehow both of your intensive knowledge on memes made the two of you friends. Sasha, on the other hand, took a bit more effort but in the end, she was just as fun and cheery as the other two outside work.

✦ Jon, on the other hand... He was wary, of course, a bit of an asshole too but you were determined to let his walls down, and so was the team. He gradually came to accept (aka get comfortable with) your existence and doesn't glare you like a cat you just rudely woke up.

✦ Elias... Elias isn't too pleased with this development though as you come find. He finds every excuse in the book to have you in office, stalling you just so he could spend more time with you. He had moved to the archives for one very specific reason and that was so he can watch you carefully.

✦ I mean, how couldn't he? You were so nice to him, oblivious to the concept of the entities and you didn't even care if he gets a bit 'spooky' (as Tim puts it) at times. In fact, he claimed you as his kid the moment you seem to play along with his 'little cryptid act'.

✦ But The Archival team... Oh, did they get on his nerves. But he couldn't do anything, no, he was sure you'll know and they'll tell you about what he truly is and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't lose you to them, so he'll have to just slightly abuse his power a bit. Just to have you be by his side a bit longer.

✦ Of course, Archivist and Co. can't stand by idly and watch him take their friend! And so, everytime Elias and one of them come to your desk at the same time, it's practically a tug of war for your affection and attention.

✦ It makes you laugh honestly, seeing them fight like this. Reminds you so much like a father trying to shoo away any his kid's admirers.... Only if you knew though, then you wouldn't be laughing.

notes. hi hii!!! tysm for requesting this!! i always wanted to write for tma but couldn't. ik this is a pretty old req (i think like .... from june i think?) and i wrote this months ago but forgot to finish

reqs are alwyas open!! and dont forget to reblog any of our works here on this blog, it help us a lot!!! ty again for requesting!

#mod hajime #the magnus archives x reader #tma x reader #yandere tma #yandere the magnus archives

101 notes · View notes

squib-2006 · 7 months

Text

Dr pt2 spoiler warning

This was a fantastic set of episodes

• Kai and wyldfire are everything. Kai having to deal with someone who acts like he did in the earlier seasons is poetic justice and funny as hell.

• I also like how they kinda tried to explain why Kai seemed calm after sea bound and nyas seaifcation. I guess Kai meditating with wu would make him calmer. At least it confirms that Kai was upset (even if they didn’t show it)

•I am kinda upset that nothing from skybound was brought up with the Djinn. I personally don’t really like skybound but I still find that it could be used more than just oh yah that happened right wink wink. I mean we had to suffer through skybound for something right?

• I actually really liked sora and nyas whole plot with the Djinns curse. It was fun and had a nice conclusion.

• Coles return is great I love his little gang in the land of forgotten things. My favorite has to be the skeleton girl (I forgot her name probably cuz they only say it like 2 times) she’s funny.

• I do wish there was a scene where nyas like btw I found Cole and the other ninja react. I mean she does mention it at the end but no one except Zane has any real reaction.

• Beatrix going off the rails was really funny. It felt like someone gave a teen with daddy issues an insta death weapon.

• rapton switching sides kinda came out of left field for me. Like the guy isn’t the brightest bulb in the box I think it would be more likely for other characters to switch sides. Also how did he recover from being tased so quickly? Man was out cold and not two minutes later he was up and walking around.

• kinda felt that the whole being sucked into non existence should have had more lasting effects (totally not because I want to traumatize or brutally injure Kai no why would I want that /s) tho fake out deaths are pretty par for the course with ninjago, this one actually didn’t make me feel all that much cuz I knew the moment wyldfire got pulled in that this was a fake out. They wouldn’t kill one of there new characters that quickly.

•so wus just legitimately fudging dead. Never thought we would see the day when this old mad would just peace out. Also ghost wu legit looks like he’s slowly loosing his form or something cuz in the first half he appears with his full body but in the last scene he’s in he’s just a chest and a head. It might have just been a stylistic thing tho.

•I’m not mad jay only showed up for around 30 seconds (this just might be my bias tho cuz jays probably the ninja I care the least about, not that I hate him or anything he’s just not that interesting to me) it’s kinda refreshing for me cuz nya gets to be her own character for a bit and not be completely attached to Jay and Jay gets to take up less screen time (if I am being honest Jay had so much focus in the wild brain seasons it kinda got annoying to me personally) idk if he’s actually lost his memories or if that leak is wrong cuz it would make sense cuz he has not searched for the ninja (specifically nya cuz that man is a simp for his gf) Arin missing him by a second is hilarious to me.

•not sure about how I feel about Lloyd being the linchpin for the entire thing. Part of me thinks that it would have fit the shows themes better if all of them used their elemental powers or something else to power the cores to fix everything. But another part of me understands that Lloyd get main character privileges cuz he’s the son of ninjago god.

•still kinda frustrated that they are changing how elemental powers work. Originally they were from the first spinjitzu master, but the whole source dragon being the source (for lack of a better word) of the elemental powers, it completely retcons and nerfs the first spinjitzu master. It would have made more sense if they still came from the powers of the fsm and were gifted through the source dragons to people.

•the implication of the cursed realm merging with the rest of the realms brings up the question if the departed realm merged to? Does that mean no one can die??? Or is there some sort of force that still keeps the departed realm separated from the rest (like how the people in the land of the forgotten can’t leave) or can some dude just wander in to the departed realm and see like there dead grandma chilling with the fsm having tea or some crap like that.

•Lloyd going I forgot there are two of them now towards Kai and wyldfires antics is peak writing. And all the arson and explosions the two created is just beautiful.

•I think the Kai and wyldfire duo should be called like the arsonist or the kaboom duo

•THE HUGGG!!!! My boi was so happy looking when the tackle hug was done.

•I just cant get my brain to shut up about these two. They give off tired dad who sometimes gives in to his old chaotic ways he’s sworn he’s grown out of and living embodiment of chaos and fun daughter who drags her dad into crazy things.

Tdlr I loved this second half and had a few issues with it but it was still really good.

72 notes · View notes

theflyindutchwoman · 17 days

Note

I’ve been feeling so upset and down and sad. I hate that they broke up. I hate how he just left Lucy there. I hate how sad my baby girl is in this season. I need them back together, they are so great together. I am so afraid that it will take the whole season for them to reunite romantically and we are left in a chenford drought the rest of the season.

Let me start by sending you a virtual hug, we are going to need it for this journey. That last scene of Lucy has been haunting me… So know that you are not alone in this! As for them getting back together… Listen, this is probably an unpopular opinion (?) and not the one you might be hoping for… but I don't want them back together this season (and I can't believe I'm writing this).

What Tim is going through on a personal level is not something that can be magically fixed in one or two episodes. Otherwise, it just cheapens his storyline. He needs therapy - with someone who is not spying on her clients, by the way (speaking of, I really hope that he doesn't reveal anything incriminating to our resident psychiatrist, that would make things worse on so many levels). He needs to work on himself, he needs to learn to come to terms with his past so he can forgive himself. That's not to say that Lucy can't help him along the way in the future. But, at the very least, he has to start the work.

As for Lucy, she also needs therapy. She needs to focus on herself, to deal with everything that has happened to her in the last couple of months (if not years), to figure out where she goes from there and rebuild her confidence (which should not be dependant on the approval of others). It could be interesting to see her navigate this new stage of her life without Tim at her side. Ever since she started in Mid-Wilshire, he has been her one constant. He was her TO, her Sergeant, her case officer in her last UC mission, her boyfriend… There has been some periods of time without him, of course, like right after her graduation… or after she stopped being his aide… But this time, it won't be as easy to get past this hurdle. Or it shouldn't.

But doesn't mean that they won't interact at all. They still work at the same station and with Tim back on patrol (and as her direct superior officer), they are bound to bump into each other. So we should definitely have some pining moments. And awkward interactions. Maybe some angry words. What I hope, I guess, is that by the end of s6, they will have a meaningful conversation, where Tim explains to Lucy why he broke up. Because I'm not sure she understands why. Scratch that : I'm not sure she even has all the information. We don't know what Tim told her since we didn't see that scene (I'm a bit bitter about it). I think it could be a first step in the right direction. For both of them individually and for their future. But they still have a long road ahead of them. They need to work on their friendship first, before even thinking of being a couple again.

That's going to be the biggest challenge actually : finding the right timing to get them back together. Too soon and you risk ruining that storyline. Too long and your risk losing your audience's interest. I wish I had more comforting words for you, dear Anon. I still believe this could be a wonderful journey, even an empowering and beautiful one for the both of them. And at the moment, I'm holding on to that.

#to all my other anons : I haven't forgotten you. I was just waiting for this hiatus so I could find the proper time...#I feel like the joke's on me now 😭 but I will answer you!#ask & ye shall receive #the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford

28 notes · View notes

frogchiro · 2 years

Note

Eremite harem sounds delicious ngl 😫 Even more so with ferility goddess reader… (this is long, hope u don’t mind <3)

So, worshiping gods come almost always with different kinda of rites and rituals. Now I can imagine spring being something that the followers of the ferility goddess treat as a holy period of time. The reason being that it’s the tile of the year, when their goddess is the most fertile, so much so that it’s not unusual for twins or even triplets to ne born.

And what would be a better way to celebrate the season of new life, than breeding their goddess day and night, until she is nice, round and heavy with their brood.

That’s how you got here, in between six eremites who were given the honor of getting you pregnant with new strong firghters.

Behind you, was the sharpest and quickest Clearwater that Sumeru had seen in decades. And while she sadly couldn’t pump you full of cum, that didn’t mean she couldn’t help with getting you aroused. That’s why she was massaging your already tender breasts, alternating from soft and deep movements, to quick and rough ones.

Meanwhile your strongest Stone Enchanter bounding into you relentlesly from the front. His strong arms were wrapped tightly around you, and his thick and veiny grith was dragging right against your sweet spot with each thrust in and out.

Sooner rather than later, you started to feel your climax getting closer and closer. And with the fondling of your chest, and the thrusts that just got faster and faster, you could just feel how your eyes rolled back in pleasure. And your build up finally came to an end, when the Stone Enchanter came inside of you, and bit your collarbone hard.

And the three of you just stayed there for a while. You and Stone Enchanter catching your breaths, while the Clearwater pressed kisses all over your already sore shoulders and behind your neck, while simultaneously rubbing your full tummy and sides.

But before you could even recover from your first round, the two eremites whom just pleasured you, were pushed aside and replaced by a new duo.

In front of you sat a Galehunter general, who immidietly dived between you spread legs. She started to suck on your small bundle of nerves, while also labia with her fingers. And just a moments later, a pair of strong hands , that you instantly recognized to belong to Daythunder, picked you up a bit, and swiftly showed your leaking cunt down to a new cock.

The new grith took some time to adjust to, and the constant stimulation to your clit wasn’t helping at all. An while the groth inside you wasn’t as thick as the last one had been, it was long and had a bit of curve to it. It sat right against your crevix, and you waited with anticipation and dread, how it would soon be slamming against it.

And just that happened, the Daythunder behind you showed no mercy, as he secured a thight grip on your thighs, and started to fuck you deep and hard. And the Galehunter kept up with the pace, and licked long strokes from your clit, to your cunt that was being filled to brim. Her coarse hands would also press against the fat of your stomach, enhancing the pleasure that the Daythunder’s long lenght gave you.

And once again you reached your high. And once again a new pair of hands grabbed your waist and pushed you down another dick, while another pair of hands massaged you whenever wherever. By the end of the week, you’d been fucked and breeded in every corner of your tent, and in every position imaginable. You had have cock up your cunt and ass, and down your throat, you had given lovebites to your eremites, and they had all made sure to make sure that you were covered in reminders of them.

And now, you just laid there, on your soft silks and thick furs, just so used up and sore, but also content. Because you knew for a fact, that a new brood would be welcomed rather soon to your beloved eremites, and that thought made you happier than ever <3

N-nonnie this...this is gold ♡

f!reader, reader is reffered to as a goddess, breeding, smut with a dash of fluffiness <3

The original idea of fertililty goddess!reader belongs to @seakicker /juju, i'm only borrowing her concept ^.^

Yes, i agree that the rituals in honor of the fertility archon would be in spring; after a long dead winter comes the green spring, full of new life and hopefully bountiful hunts and harvest. The people of the desert hadn't had it the easiest since, well, it's the desert so people from there, especially nomads like the eremites want to give you a fitting tribute in hopes that you will grace them with strength and good hunts.

And you do of course! You loved every single one of your worshippers, but the eremite became your favorites after the unfortunate passing of your former lover, the Crimson King, so you decided that after his death you should be the one to take care of his beloved people in his stead and so you were here.

You spend much time with them in your human form al they loved you so so much for it♡ their goddess came to them after all, the banished ones that everyone looks down upon, see nothing more than savage bandits and yet here you are, gracing them with your beauty and benevolence. Every hunt is successful and they celebrate it by organizing a big fire where they laugh, drink and eat, your chosen harem of the best and strongest warriors clinging close to you and feeding you the best cuts of meat.

And a absolute must-have is the spring ritual of fertility in your honor! You and your chosen harem set out towards a further location from the usual camping place, something like a small oasis in the desert where you set up a big tent and the ritual can begin~

By the end of the week, both you and your lovers are exhausted and positively wrecked; everyone in laying naked and tired but sated and happy among dozens of silken pillows and blankets, eating and laughing and exchanging quiet words and gestures of affection with each other with your belly full and warm with their seed, a strong arm from the Daythunder male wrapped aeound your full hips and his rough hand caressing your tummy and you know already that there are multiple new bright lights coming to life inside your womb.

Yeah, you couldn't be happier♡

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #nonnie i love this so much <33 #thank you for the food <3 #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #eremites x reader #fertility goddess!reader #fem reader

415 notes · View notes

winter-leftovers · 4 months

Text

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter nineteen: Night Shift (19/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Gunmar finds the trolls’s hideout

Word count: 1480

Warnings: no. Should a ben platt song be a warning? Im just kidding

(Season 3 Episodes 1)

Song?: Grow as we go by Ben Platt

Previous - Next

Masterlist

Y/n sat on the couch with her gaze lost in the dancing of the branches of the tree that lived outside her house against the pink sky while she absentmindedly stroked Al’s back furr.

“You seemed distracted” Al turned his head.

Y/n sighed “Can I tell…you something?” She looked down at him.

Al stretched his legs and turned himself to be belly up.

“You can’t tell, Hisirdoux” she stopped petting his belly.

“I’m always loyal to you. You have always been more generous with the tuna” his brown tail twitched at the thought of food.

“I remembered…about Morgana” she whispered, not being able to look him in the eye “My sister” she smiled over the grief.

“Morgana?” Al’s pupils retracted.

“She was my sister and she died” Y/n closed her eyes, the turbulence of the sea coming back to her “she was murdered” she repeated, the feeling of betrayal was still fresh on her chest.

Alfred sat up when he heard her. It wasn’t a false alarm. Y/n was remembering.

“Y/n, I…” he put his paw on her leg.

“No. I just…” she turned back to the tree and cleaned away the tear that fell “I just need to process it again. I…Just…Don’t tell Douxie. Alright? He’s so excited with the battle of the bands” Y/n didn’t let him answer, she didn’t want to have this conversation, she stood up and went to the kitchen where she left her phone charging. A message from Jim light up the screen:

‘Tell ur friend to stay away from Claire’

Y/n rolled her eyes and went to prepare herself for the night guard.

—

The sun had long left the sky of Arcadia. Jim and Y/n were walking along the entryway of the old abandoned warehouse where the trolls were hiding after the fall of trollmarket. The Lake siblings were putting more enchanted Nuñez signs to keep the gumm gumms away.

“Have you been to the basement lately?” Jim interrupted the comfortable silence.

Y/n frowned, the memory of her mother’s art coming back to her “Yes” she shook her head. Her mother’s portrait of Blinky was strangely good “I didn’t know she could paint”

“We have to do something”

“I mean, it was bound to happen. You can’t permanently delete someone's memories without damaging their brain or someone actually taking them from you” Y/n shrugged and continued her task.

Jim turned to her sister, mouth wide open. How did she know that?

“What?” He asked.

She turned back at him, eyes wide open like a deer in headlights. She hasn't told his brother the truth about herself. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was that she didn’t know the whole truth, only bits and pieces or maybe it was because she’s afraid of losing another family.

“Master Jim, Lady Y/n, thought you could use this” Blinky interrupted the awkward stare down and brought the two cups “I manage to scrounge up all the components for a fine cup of coffee”

Y/n smiled grateful for the coffee and the interruption. She took the cup up to her nose and stopped, her brows furrowed at the smell of the coffee. It didn’t smell right.

Jim took a sip as Blinky announced that he used an old gym sock as a filter. The Trollhunter spited the drink into the troll face.

“Ugh!” Y/n pushed the cup as far as she could from her face.

“I know. I’m not a fan of the french roast either” Blinky wiped his face “How's the watch?”

“It’s given me time to think, Blinky, this Gunmar stuff and…the Eternal Night. What if I don’t have it in me to stop it?” Jim asked, his eyes filled with worry.

Y/n gave him half a smile and put her free arm around his shoulders as they started to walk. She knew his brother had what it took to stop Gunmar, Merlin’s amulet doesn’t make mistakes, she told him this before but it doesn’t matter, she could shout it from the top of every building in Arcadia, Jim has to realize it himself.

“We’ve discussed this before. Your heart is stronger than you know” reminded Blinky

“What if heart isn’t enough? This is Gunmar. He's ruthless. He…He doesn’t show mercy”

Quick lashes of the war appeared in Y/n’s brain. Jim was right. Heart isn’t enough.

“That may be true, Jim but you’re kind, smart and strong, stronger than you think. Gunmar may be a ruthless monster or whatever, but he has never won anything” Y/n pushed Jim closer to her. No matter how insecure she feels right now, she trusts her brother and his ability to win this.

“That doesn’t change the fact that Gunmar is ruthless” Jim insisted.

“Yes, Gunmar is a savage,and that’s precisely why we left his violent ways and searched for a new path” Blinky recounted “Master Jim, as our Trollhunter you have been, eh, awful” Blinky gave him a half smile “so many times, making horrible, horrible mistakes”

“Hey!” the siblings complained at the same time

“I’m trying my best!”

“He is trying his best”

“Precisely!” Blinky put his hand on Jim’s shoulder “And that’s why I would follow you to the ends of the earth. You are human. You grow. You learn from your mistakes. You always try to make the right choice. Unlike Gunmar, I believe trolls can grow with you”

“Let’s hope you’re right” Jim sighed.

“Jim…”Y/n called for her brother. When she lifted her eyes, she noticed that all the signs were gone.

“The signs. Where’d they all go?” Jim looked around and couldn’t see the signs.

“Jim, Y/n” Blinky screamed as the three of them saw the last sign disappear behind a bush.

“Why is the bush growling?” Y/n started to take steps back as the gumm gumms started to emerge from the woods.

“Oh no, for the glory of Merlin daylight is mine to command”

Blinky and Y/n ran to the warehouse to alert the refugees of trollmarket while Jim distracted the gumm gumms.

“We’ve been compromised! We must defend our ground!” Blinky screamed as he closed the door with the help of Y/n.

“Jim!” Y/n screamed.

The trollhunter slowly lifted himself from the ground after a gumm gumm threw him through a window.

“I’m okay” he stood tall and grabbed her sister’s hand “I’m okay”

“Trolls, stand with me! For tonight, we…” Blinky found himself alone when the gumm gumms opened the door.

“Whatever” said a troll before leaving.

Y/n took a deep breath and ran to a lead pipe that laid on the other side of the room. Avoiding big, rocky hands, she grabbed the pipe from the floor and started swinging, trying to take the attention away from Aaarrrgghh and Blinky that were taking the trolls to the swears.

“There’s too many of them!” Y/n screamed to anyone who’ll listen.

“If only I could use my staff” she thought.

“We have to get them all…” screamed back Jim.

Draal rolled in and pushed Jim to the floor:

“I told you this husk wouldn’t stop coming after you but you let Draal live. Now you will die!” Gunmar laughed through Draal’s body and attacked Jim, taking the fight outside.

“No” Y/n whispered and with all her anger, kicked the gumm gumm she had on top of her, killing it when it hit the wall.

Y/n got tired. She dropped the lead pipe and undrawed her staff, taking care of the rest of the gumm gumm with some magic and the sharp end of it.

“Are you coming or not?” Asked NotEnrique.

Y/n and Blinky looked at eachother.

“We have to help Jim” she answer

They ran outside and followed the sound of the struggle of battle , quickly finding Jim standing on top of cursed Draal with his sword in his hand ready to strike.

“Master Jim! Don’t do it!” Screamed Blinky

“Do it, trollhunter!” Taunted Bular “If you think your armor’s too much to shoulder today. I’ll make sure it’ll break you tomorrow! I found you once. I will find you again. Kill him”

“I’m the trollhunter” Jim reminded him.

“Master Jim, we must leave at once”

“You cannot escape me. I’ll find you” Gunmar screamed as Blinky and Jim started to walk out. Y/n stood there observing him for a moment. She remembers him as stuff of nightmares, as the thing that would lure in the shadow that would bring her to tears as a child but now? She feels pity. How many times is he going to fight a war he is going to lose? How many times is going to try to win a world that doesn’t want him?

“What do you want, witch?” He spits

“You haven’t learnt your lesson, haven’t you?”

A/n: Happy new year’s 🎉🎉 I bet you weren’t expecting this huh? I’m uploading this with 2 hs of sleep and ready to go to a pool to keep parting 🫡 hope you’re having fun as well

#tales of arcadia #douxie x reader #douxie #toa #trollhunters #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #my writing #Til The End Of Eternity

29 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 10 months

Text

Richie Jerimovich — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: Love that most of y’all are coming around when it comes to Richie but what’s understood doesn’t need to be explained! Anyways after watching this eye-opening season, it was easy to be inspired for this piece so I hope you enjoy this.

SYNOPSIS: Richie’s found his purpose and doesn’t want to reflect on the past (much) but is looking towards a better future…which may include baby steps to outsiders but it means everything to him.

WARNINGS: language ofc it’s the bear & me we’re talking about, mentions of drugs & anxiety, mentions of slight sexual themes, and a little heaviness but mostly two goof balls expressing their love for each together.

Decided to throw a prompt into the mix as well so I’m using: “can we make cookies?” “it is 92 degrees outside, no!”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @p3iyin9 *

꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱**

[July 10th]

[4 months, 14 days later…]

It’s her birthday and she’s here.

She’s not alone and Richie’s half expecting her to be here with some new guy, some guy that’s more around her age and has their shit together. It’s a bitter thought to have but he can’t lie and say that it didn’t occur, the constant insecurity of not being good enough.

He knows it’s his own fault, he’s the one who pushed her away not long after she welcomed him between her thighs during a brutal winter. The details were vivid even with his eyes wide open, burning into space. He wanted to be angry being so intimate with someone else when there was always the thought of his first love on his mind.

Tiffany.

His ex-wife.

He was still hurting from being officially divorced for about a year now (separated for three) and she was moving on he learned. It was bound to happen, a woman with a heart like her’s? Richie wasn’t sure why he was still holding on to hope for them to rekindle their relationship. He wanted it to work but he was the constant screw up and Tiffany deserved better…he just didn’t expect it to be with some construction owning guy named Frank.

Richie already didn’t trust him.

It was the common tale of curing a broken heart, trying to get underneath someone else to get over someone, to feel anything else but the continuing ache that sat on the left side of his chest.

Freya Mazari was someone Richie met not long after “the thing with Tiff,” happened, outside of a bar that was famous for bourbon and risqué wall art. He spotted her outside at the start of summer on a surprisingly quiet sidewalk cracking her knuckles—out of a possible bad habit, blue bruise the side of an apple on her cheek, and a unlit spliff tapping against her thigh afterwards as she seemed to be mumbling some lyrics to a Busta Rhymes song.

That was the first thing that had him sold on their soon growing friendship.

Freya’s surrounded by a group of diverse women who are laughing it up over drinks while Freya is standing; embracing Sugar and falling into smile-filled chatter with the blonde. Richie instantly feels a pull to head over there himself but be figures he can just get entail from Sugar later. Carmy’s been over to Freya’s table already, handing out a, “it’s on the house,” birthday special but they still weren’t on the best terms really. It was strictly business now and that was something Richie never wanted to be part of.

A strict relationship with a family member—except for uncle Jimmy of course, he really had no choice with that one. That night back on opening day in May, seemed to be something they couldn’t get pass just yet and that was another hard pill for Richie to swallow.

Carmy messing up something good on the surface level and taking it out on everybody else with his mouth, changed the trajectory of their relationship.

Would it be forever? Richie couldn’t tell you.

Nonetheless he wasn’t here at the bear to talk about need-a-diaper carmy. Right now? He needed to figure out how to handle this…this distance with the woman he considered his close friend.

He’ll deal with that family shit in due time, don’t worry.

“Who are we hiding from?” A familiar voice causes Richie to clench his eyes shut.

He doesn’t have to peer down at the shorter tatted man who’s behind him as he says, “I’m not hiding from nobody.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re creeping on…Freya! Yeah Freya over there. Do you know it’s her birthday today? We had the best birthday hug, she may even be a better hugger than me.” Fak informs the taller blue eyed tux wearing man.

Richie pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “of course I know its her—what did I tell you about touching things that don’t belong to you?”

He battled with himself countless of times this entire morning to call her up but ultimately fought against himself to just do it.

Fak hummed, “hey, she’s my friend too! And doesn’t belong to either of us but we’re included in her life and it’s her birthday! I’m sure she’ll be happy to receive a birthday wish from you too.”

“I can’t say I agree with you on that.”

“Why not? Oh…it’s because you guys did the dance with no pants—

Richie’s hands immediately slaps over the animated man’s mouth and starts talking to him calmly, “what did I say? To not ever mention that shit here at the original bear.”

That’s Richie’s new spin on the restaurant name, yes there are shirts on the way!

Patience is key.

Fak hummed as Richie scolded him. It wasn’t that big of a deal in the first place on Fak’s side of things. He was just thrilled that Richie was involved in being intimate with someone he cared about for once…compared to the others that shall not be named. Fak thought Freya and Richie could be something great but he wasn’t aware what Richie was so scared of.

“Yuck! Did you just lick my hand you—

Richie shook his hand about, halting himself from saying something insulting. Sometimes it just slipped out but he was doing much better and it was usually a place out of love when it came to Fak. He was like a puppy in training, always excited and doing whatever came to mind but most of the time you had to lure him to take a fucking nap.

“Yeah I did! Just go talk to her! Make her dreams come true.”

“Fuck are you talking about? Do I look like Hall & Oates to you? Like I’m her dream guy or somethin’?”

“Hey, I thought we weren’t doing this. I don’t like you talking down on yourself buddy! You need to go into the restroom and give yourself a quick pep talk in the mirror.” Fak ordered, pointing in the direction of the restrooms.

Richie blew out a raspberry at Fak’s encouragement. He didn’t take him serious but once the man started shoving him about, Richie was all elbows flying and slap-fight inflicting between the two.

Sydney calls from the kitchen, “Hey! What’re you two doing? Aren’t you supposed to be up front?”

“Sugar’s up front.” Richie informs with a slight turn to face the braided woman.

Fak immediately straightens up, not providing much answers, “Yes ma’am! I mean chef.”

Sydney blinks at the two, wondering why they’re not moving, leaving Fak to take a few deep breaths before slapping Richie on the chest as he mutters, “Taking one for the team again! You’re welcome and get it together!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Fak.”

Fak shrugs his shoulders and spins to leave the entry way of the kitchen, while the pace of the kitchen has started to slow down the movements are still precise. It’s late, after ten pm and there’s about three to five parties left, which means closing time should be wrapping up within the next thirty to forty-five minutes.

Business was booming still almost two months later but the rush always seemed to slow down once the late nights arrived. The Bear was formerly known as mainly a lunch or late lunch spot but after this new reno, dinner became much more important.

“Richie,” Sydney steps away from her spot behind the stand, “Everything good?”

Richie exhales as he mutters, “Freya’s out there.”

“I heard.”

He fidgets then.

“Have you talked to her? It’s her birthday.”

“I’m aware, I put in the word for Marcus to give her a little piece of home since I also hear she’s a little homesick. Mkhabez.” Sydney tells Richie, as she eyes the jittery man.

Richie chews on his fingernail in thought, “right that’s some type of cookie. Almond cookie? She told me about how her uh, Jidda used to make them for her as a little girl with her siblings back in Algeria.”

Sydney nodded her head, “yeah…are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Not to be an asshole but you look like you’re gonna pass out or hurl and if you are, please give me a fair warning so you don’t ruin my coat.” Sydney cautiously took a step back as Richie used the back of his hand to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead and not because of the heat in the kitchen.

Richie scoffs, “No need to worry, Chef. I’m not gonna empty my belly or pop a smooth criminal lean. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I probably need to pop another xan.”

“Uh, that’s probably something you shouldn’t mention to me.”

“Why? You’re not gonna snitch on me, are you?”

“No…but I might snoop through your stuff and fry them all in a pan.” Sydney honestly says while she folds her arms as Richie peers at her.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could,” Sydney challenged, “if you need a minute take it but you can’t run forever.”

“Who says I’m runnin’?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” Sydney states, “and you just need to rip whatever this is off like a band aid, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“And what if I don’t?”

Sydney pauses with her arms still folded before she peeks around at the remaining chefs in the kitchen, Carmy not in sight before she whispers back up at him, “then fuck it, at least you tried.”

Richie can’t help but to snort out some laughter before he claps two hands down on Sydney’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze, “Well thanks for that, Syd.”

“Sure, whatever. Now get out of my kitchen.”

“Our!” Richie points.

Sydney nods her head from side to side with a playful roll of her eyes as Richie clicks his tongue at her. Down the hall he goes in search of the bathroom to in fact, give himself a pep talk but most importantly to calm down.

Richie’s disappeared for over half an hour. He didn’t realize it until Carmy barged in to see him sitting on the bathroom sink.

“I said I’m in here!”

“Yeah, with your ass in the sink.” Carmy’s tone is monotone but quick to point out, “which is unsanitary by the way.”

Richie can’t help but to roll his eyes as he hops off then, fixing his tux before he slaps his face, bringing himself out his daze. He spins back around, getting another good look at his reflection for what felt like the thousandth time but he exhales and quietly excuses himself from around Carmy who appears as if he wants to say more.

But he doesn’t.

Richie’s steps echo in his ears as he circles around to the dining area. He hasn’t realized how long he locked himself away until he’s in the room, half of the chairs flipped up onto the tables with lofi music playing through the speakers.

He can only guess who picked this shit.

A blonde pregnant lady probably.

“Damn.” Richie rubs at his mouth in frustration, briefly noticing the booth Freya previously sat in was now empty.

That didn’t lift the weight to now know that she was gone for the night. In fact it made him feel worse, that he didn’t have the nerve to just walk up to her and talk.

You know? like friends were supposed to be able to do.

His skin is red as he pinches at it in aggravation, until he picks up on the sound of heels slowly clacking against the floor. His breathing hitches as he lifts his head to meet Freya’s dark sharp eyes.

“Hey,” Richie chest feels tight but he breathes, “I thought you scrammed outta here with your girls.”

She shakes her head as she keeps some distance between the two, “some of them have early mornings tomorrow and the rest I told to just go home. I was hoping to run into you actually.”

Richie swallows as she steps forward, “why? To smash some cake in my face?”

“Now there’s an idea.” She lightly laughs and it sounds like Christmas bells, “but no, I wanted to see you.”

Richie quirked up a brow as he carefully moved out of the way so Freya could grab her things, “…really?”

“Yeah, we have some things to talk about.” Freya slips her bag over her shoulder, “Like you ghosting me for one.”

Richie rolls his head up to the ceiling, “yeah, about that—

“Let’s go for a late night walk.”

“How about a late night drive since I know your feet are hurting or about to be soon,” Richie looks at Freya’s fit, knowing she wasn’t much of a heels wearing woman (although she wears them very well) preferring sneakers more than anything on her feet.

Freya laughs as she sways a bit, probably a little tipsy, “you’re not wrong about that…so get your keys and take me to yours.”

“Mine,” Richie questions while pointing to himself, “I dunno what kinda guy you take me for—

“Oh Shut up, I’m not giving you any of this birthday cake.” She poses in her fitted dress, “I’m only propositioning a conversation between Richard and the birthday girl.”

“Yeah you giving this a whole title isn’t helping the innuendo, baby.”

“And neither are you in that tux,” Freya smoothes down the arm of it before placing her hands back on the strap of her bag, “Didn’t get the chance to tell you last time face to face but you clean up very nice, Richard.”

Richie gives a grin as he says, “Give me two minutes.”

Which leads to the pair pulling up to Richie’s condo/apartment. It’s normally too quiet at night for his liking, especially when he’s not jamming out with Eva here. After unlocking the front door, he holds his arm out for Freya to lead the way, which she has no issue doing, a natural sway in her steps as she walks down the foyer bare footed now.

“I’ll put the AC on.” Richie rushes out as Freya makes herself at home, placing her shoes against the couch and plopping down on the couch with a sigh.

He messes around with the finicky thermostat until it chokes out some cool air from the vents in the ceiling above, battling against the humidity in his two bedroom home.

“What can I get you? I’ve got beer, Gatorade, tap and—

“Orange juice?” Freya asks as she lays down on the couch, one arm is held up and over her head, eyes closed for a moment.

“Yeah I’ve got that too,” Richie responds from around the corner in his kitchen.

It’s about ten minutes until eleven and Freya is all yawns as Richie arrives back into the living room, holding two red cups, one filled with ice and OJ just how Freya likes it and one just filled with the orange liquid. He sits down beside her as she sits up and moves over to give the man some room in his own house.

She’s gulping the cold juice down and licks at the top of her lip before placing it down on the side table, “you need coasters.”

“Ah, just use some toilet paper.”

Freya crinkles her nose, pressing her fist into the side of her head as she rests back against the couch, just eyeing Richie who is looking forward at everything else but her. The cold air is wheezing but there’s relief filling the room, in contrast to what Richie maybe feeling.

“This silence is killing me, Richard!” Freya pokes his thigh with her seashell painted toe, “just talk to me already, will you?”

“Okay…how’s the birthday going?”

Freya honestly says, “I’m a little sad my mum didn’t call.”

That gets Richie to look at Freya then. Although their friendship was still fairly new, he knew that seemed unlikely for Freya’s mother out in North London to forget her eldest’ birthday. Of course it was possible, Richie didn’t have the best relationship with his own neglectful mother, hasn’t spoken to her in years or knows where she even fucked off to but it seemed like Freya at least communicated with her mother across the ocean on a daily basis.

“Has your brother or sister been in contact with her?”

“Oh yeah, she was in the background on FaceTime with my sister. Not even a hello but it’s probably because I told her I couldn’t send her any money a few weeks ago. Whatever.” Freya shrugs her shoulders.

She was a dental hygienist assistant and didn’t care for her job much but the pay and benefits were decent enough in this economy.

Freya was originally born in Algiers to a father that worked in labor and manufacturing while her mother was a stay at home mom, mostly due to a disability she faced as a child. Money wasn’t the best growing up so it wasn’t until Freya was about twelve when her father moved her, her mother, and her baby sister to London where they stayed with Freya’s maternal aunt for a few months until they got into their own flat. Her brother stayed with her father for awhile until they soon started making their visits.

Eventually her father decided to let the brother stay there while he continued making money and hoping for better work in London. However there were a few opportunities but it seemed like Freya’s father kept turning it down, just to find out he was participating in extramarital affairs behind her mother’s back. Not long after that, her mother stepped up to work with aching joints at a sporting goods store to provide for her three kids.

Freya as the eldest was also used to working underneath the table so it was no different in the UK. She learned quickly how to provide for her family too.

After that they learned her father had fallen ill due to his diabetes and needed his leg amputated. When Freya was twenty-one and living in Toronto with a boyfriend, he was living in London with his sister-in-law and died from congestive heart failure. Freya’s upbringing wasn’t always so cloudy, there were sweet moments with her parents that she liked to hold dear to her heart but the reality is, you’ll always bring something from your childhood into your adulthood good or bad.

“I’m sorry. That sucks ass forreal.” Richie comments and Freya just deeply inhales.

“You know what else sucks?” She exhales, “Not having you around to talk to.”

Richie presses his elbows into his knees in thought, “I uh—I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t mean to, what did you say back at the spot? Ghost you? Yeah. I didn’t mean to do that, I was just dealing with some shit inside that didn’t really have anything to do with you.”

“So the sex wasn’t trash and I didn’t scare you off?”

“What? Are you kidding?!” Richie’s wide-eyed as he quickly looks back at Freya, who’s face is full of a smirk, that it makes the dent on the center of her chin more prominent.

He soon laughs, “you’re fucken annoying you know that?”

“I’m supposed to be. You’ve met your match,” Freya winks.

“It—I’m gonna be real with you. I panicked because it was you on top of—it was you—and not just some random one night stand. With those I never really felt anything unfortunately for me but with you—

“It was like the Fourth of July-ly-ly.”

Richie scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I’m all here for your confidence in my skills truly but shut up.”

Who was being annoying now? She was clearly talking about herself but whatever floats this man’s boat—which she already knew—BUT she’ll save you guys the details.

“I’ve been quiet for months and I’m just trying to help fill in the gaps, sheesh!” Freya flicks her black parted hair back over her shoulders.

Richie shakes his head at the thirty something year old woman who didn’t mind rambling even when she wasn’t tipsy.

“It’s just you know, I didn’t think I would ever feel something again after the d—the thing with tiff.”

Richie still couldn’t say it, although Tiffany was officially steering her life in the direction of a another man. He still couldn’t say “divorce” because then that would mean he would have to start his own healing of a end of a special era with a woman he deeply loved and created a precious life with.

It just fizzled out and damn it hurt.

“And you did with me,” Freya voiced and was understanding, “glad to know that wasn’t only one sided.”

Richie finds himself asking, “Did you tell that no good locked up son of a bitch about it?”

Freya’s ex was some abusive guy that landed himself in jail right after New Years and it wasn’t for him stalking, harassing, or hitting Freya. It was from attempted armed robbery and now he was serving time for it and Freya finally felt like she could breathe for once.

Richie knew the feeling of being held back.

Counting your breaths are actually helpful, shout-out to anger management!

“No. Did you?”

“That jagoff can choke!”

“I mean, did you tell Tiffany?”

“Fuck no! I needed to see how we were feeling about it first and it’s not like she tells me her every move—besides her getting engaged to some other guy.” Richie’s almost glaring now at the fact of the matter before fixing his tone some, “Which I guess she gets points for letting me know and if the bastard is gonna be around my kid full-time.”

Freya spoke, “You just never thought there would be someone else. I get it.”

“Never! For either of us, then you came along and then came Frank and it’s a constant loop of emotions but I’m happy to be in Eva’s life and to feel something other than dread when I step into the original bear.” Richie’s plucking his nail against the plastic cup, slightly anxious at being this vulnerable.

However Freya wasn’t one to judge much, sure she had her opinions and can get loud from time to time when she’s pissed off or passionate but she was usually open to hearing all perspectives before she said her peace. Richie’s view was not one she spoke much on, she listened, really listened like he needed someone to and offered words when it was time for him to hear them.

“That’s something to look forward to.”

“Yeah but I still miss you.” Richie rubbed at his face before saying, “I miss our friendship and I don’t know what to do about us after what we did…yet somethin’ inside is telling me that nows not really the time to be jumping into anything. I’m just figuring things out and I know that’s gotta count for something.”

“Which is fine, richie!” Freya says with a light shove to his shoulder, “I wasn’t chasing you down to force you to be with me or anything! I gave you the space you clearly needed. I know we both got our own shit to deal with but being with you helps put that on pause for awhile …even if it’s as friends. I’m here whenever you need me, you wanna vent and scream about shit, have at it. You don’t wanna talk? Let’s have a dance party instead. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I’ve got two, take your pick!”

Richie snorts at this but he honestly appreciates it. He almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend.

“Just don’t cancel me out for months at a time, and expect things to be normal without a conversation, you hear me you prick? I’m your friend, you can talk to me ya know? I want you to feel safe with me, confide in me.” Freya holds Richie’s navy eyes against her ink colored ones and Richie has to slap a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob.

Richie chokes out, “ugh! Why are you making me feel things?!”

“Because it’s cancer season and I love and respect our friendship. You held me down in my lowest and I’m gonna keep uplifting you during yours and your growth.” Freya places a hand over the one that’s resting on Richie’s own knee.

Freya goes on, “It’s not our time to be romantically involved and I’m quite okay with that but that doesn’t mean I suddenly stop caring for you.”

Richie pressed his chin into his shoulder, staring at her underneath his lashes, “Wow…you sure you don’t wanna make-out just to confirm that?”

“I knew you liked how I look in this dress.” Freya playfully runs her nails through his buzzed hair, “say it back though, tell me you care just as much.”

There’s that “words of affirmation” shit people talk about right? Garrett would probably find this amusing.

He gently rests a rough hand against her cheek, “You know I do but I’m gonna say it anyways since you wanna be mushy as fuck right now. Thanks for everything and coming into my life, I care a lot about you and us. Your heart is beautiful and you’re my friend who also happens to be a total smoke show! I know you must feel amazing in that dress, you wear it well.”

“Thanks, good looking!” She winks.

“Act like you know,” Richie smirks.

“Oh, please!”

Richie hyped himself up with a roll of his shoulders, “Look good, feel good.”

They share a laugh staring at each other with Freya balled up beside him and Richie just enjoying her company. He wasn’t sure what to make of this but he didn’t have to have all the answers tonight. This Freya also confirmed.

He was just happy to be around her again and to have her be part of his journey.

She pops up then, “Can we make cookies?”

“Didn’t you just have some back at the restaurant?” Richie asks before saying, “It’s 92 degrees outside, no!”

“That was much earlier, though.” Freya argues, eyes darting to the side as she thinks about it.

It really was a lovely day to spend her birthday, although she wasn’t on a boat somewhere in Monaco or Miami…it was a somewhat chill day.

“Didn’t you already have some cookies at the restaurant?”

He knew she was a hungry drunk but she was nowhere near drunk, shockingly on her day.

“So? If you don’t know how to make some basic chocolate chip cookies just say that.”

Richie scoffed, “What?! Who said that? I make the best got damn cookies ever, just ask Eva.”

“She’s probably sleeping?”

“…fuck, you’re right.”

He definitely would have called her up if it wasn’t passed her bedtime.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?” She kicks his thigh again.

Richie pressed his forehead against Freya’s as he hollered, “Game on, Queen Elizabeth!”

“Don’t you ever!” She tapped his jaw and pointed at him.

Richie moved his jaw along blinking, “I’m sorry! I forgot.”

Thats how the late night evening included making homemade cookies, with Richie hovering over his phone trying to read off ingredients to Freya as they made a mess of his kitchen.

“Where’s the dark chocolate?” Freya searched Richie’s cabinets and drawers while Richie tried to keep his eyes away from the kitchen door, where he had Freya propped up against with him down on his knees.

“What? I said salt?” Richie’s eyes followed the woman as she moved around the kitchen as if she were being timed, “I dunno where the hell you got dark chocolate from.”

“We can do dark chocolate since it’s superior and a pinch of sea salt?”

Lines appeared against the skin of Richie’s forehead as he raised his brows, “How about hell no, Betty Crocker?”

“Who made you the number one cookie critic?” Freya gibed as she gently closed the drawers shut with her hips.

Richie taunts, “your mother!”

Middle fingers and a sarcastic smile later were handed right over to the 6’1 man, “Piss off, Richard!”

“Well…whadda want to do? Eva and I ate up all the last of the candy I had here. She might be coming to see you soon actually but don’t tell tiff that if you happen to see her, alright?” Richie slaps the palms of his hands against his kitchen counter.

Freya let’s out a dramatic sigh as she begins pacing on her side of the counter. She stops to lean her elbows against the counter and looks at the plastic large bowl in front of richie. Still sighing Freya reaches over to use the smaller spoon that was off to the side to dip into the batter.

Hey, Freya was no baker or chef but she liked looking at the consistency and details of things. Turning it to show to Richie, she takes one finger and flicks the spoon back so the batter can fling forward and stick right on Richie’s nose.

She’s cackling at the image of Richie closing his eyes shut in disbelief. His tongue goes out then to lick some of it off before swiping it away with his fingertips. He stares hard at a laughing Freya, who has her head thrown back, hugging herself while Richie is focused on his next move.

He’s carefully taking his jacket off now, smoothing it down before using his long limbs to toss it over at the dining table top on his right. Freya doesn’t notice this as she’s wiping the corners of her wing-lined eyes, still closed as she’s almost snorting now, skin of her nostrils sinking in a bit, like she’s squidward or some shit as she carries on laughing.

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?” Richie asks with a palm full of flour now.

She’s still laughing as she nods her head, too full of giggles to get any words out.

Instead of Richie sprinkling some salt, he throws flour across the counter right to the side of Freya’s face, “Well I’m funnier, asshole!”

That gets Freya to stop laughing then. She stands up straight and it’s Richie’s turn to fail to cover his own laughter with his fist.

It was on then.

A flour fight began between the two friends, coating most of the kitchen with white powder.

“I think you threw salt in my eye you turd?!” Freya’s holding her eye now, after this has gone on for at least ten minutes.

“Shit, I’m sorry! Everything is starting to look the same.” Richie’s coming to her aide now, fanning the air as he steps to her, hands reaching for her forearms, “let me see.”

Freya fools him, “Gotcha!” Before whacking him in the neck with a whisk.

“Ow! Hey you’re fighting dirty, Frey!” Richie scolds before snatching a wooden spoon making Freya eye him wildly, “uh huh let me see you try to win this battle now.”

“I’m definitely gonna win, whether you like it not, Richy Rich.” Freya got low, ready to aim at Richie’s torso since she had that to her advantage being shorter than him.

Richie blows a raspberry, tapping the wooden spoon against the palm of his hand, “you must not know the strength of a wooden spoon and my wrestling skills, sweetheart. I got the team to championships!”

“When? In 1948?”

Richie tightens his eyes at this before they’re in a fencing match now. Which doesn’t last long as one of the two lost their footing due to the flour covered floor.

“I think I broke my ass.” Richie groans holding his back.

Freya’s laughing again as she’s resting right on top of Richie, “I’m glad I don’t have that problem, flat ass.”

“I don’t appreciate you slandering what I lack, some of us weren’t blessed okay?” Richie sasses as he wraps a hand around Freya’s waist to sit them both up.

Freya cooed at him, pinching his cheeks while Richie rolls his eyes. They sit in silence with freya on his lap as they take in the sight of his kitchen now. Flour on the upper cabinets, flour even on Eva’s personal drawing table, flour of course covering the counter, flour all over the floor, hair, face and their clothes.

“Great…now I gotta clean this up!”

“Eh, maybe later yeah?”

“Later? Well what else do you have in mind since we didn’t actually make those cookies you wanted so bad?” Richie waved his hands about.

Freya makes an explosion in front of Richie’s face, his round eyes following her fingertips for a moment before she says close to his face, “I have a better idea, it’s actually a good one.”

Richie was half expecting Freya to get him to break out into a dance routine like last time to Madonna’s, “Material girl,” but he was sure the man above was probably tired of their shenanigans tonight.

So that’s how he ended up here, covered in flour with him watching as Freya made herself comfortable on his couch again, head pressed against her folded up hands.

One eye pops open almost like a jumpscare, “are you gonna stand there the entire night like a creeper and just watch me sleep or are you going to join me, Richie Lawrence?”

Richie scratches at his head in confusion, “stop with the whole middle-name name drop, you’re making me think of my bastard dad. And I’m not sure what you want me to do here?”

“Make yourself comfortable, it’s your house.”

“There’s a bed on the other side and a shower…”

“So you’re gonna make more suggestions on my birthday but then say respectfully a romantic relationship isn’t what you want out of this on my birthday? It sounds like you want to give me a certain gift on my birthday to end this birthday party.” Freya rambles, now sitting up on her elbow.

Richie squints, “how many times did you just say birthday?”

“Get over here!”

“God, you’re getting bossy in your old age.” Richie jokes as he sits down by Freya’s legs, who swings them to the floor so Richie can scoot in behind her.

He keeps his hands and feet where he can see them, staring at the back of Freya’s head and he can smell her sweet but floral scent. Richie takes the time to digest how this feels, with Freya in front of him radiating off a comforting warmth even when she snatches his arm to rest against her waist.

Richie is just waiting then for the anxiety to kick in but it doesn’t arrive for the rest of the night. Which makes him sink further into the couch, tightening his hold of Freya. His nose then presses down into her bare soft shoulder blade, right where her round mole sits and exhales.

“I’m proud of you.” Freya croaks out, ready for sleep, “and you should be too.”

And that makes Richie’s heart swell. He always wanted to be good at something but wasn’t sure how to make a career out of it. He had to find his footing in this world constantly and slowly he felt like he was beginning to locate it. They say it’s in your daily routine if you’re unsure and engaging with all sorts of people was something richie didn’t mind being part of.

It felt natural to him.

Holding Freya felt just the same but she didn’t need to know that just yet. He loved physical touch whether you were his family or not, it was the best form of love Richie wanted to give and receive.

He didn’t realize he squeezed her tighter against him at her words before he presses a kiss to the back of her head, “Happy birthday.”

A smile graces her lips.

In the early hours of July 11th, the sky a faded dim blue begins to peak through Richie’s living room curtains, revealing that a new day was among them.

Richie’s always been a early riser since sleep hardly existed according to the bags underneath his eyes. It had to be around 5 in the morning and he knew he would be ready for some coffee soon but this time he enjoys the silence. He feels Freya roll back against him, arm looping around his neck as she stretches in her sleep.

“Morning to you too,” Richie greets, “Question for ya, how’s bell-pep the iguana doin’?”

You heard that right, Freya was a “Guana-momma,” who she named after a vegetable specifically and Richie was ready to baby sit the guy at any time—as long as it didn’t freak Eva out too much but he doubted that. She had his blood in her veins.

Freya shushed him straight away, removing her arm from around his neck to curl that same arm to press the back of her fingers against his lips, “When I step up in the place, ayo, I step correct.” She starts before moving those fingers to create a wave up in the air.

It only made sense to Richie for her to be rounding off lyrics early in the morning, especially when he was asking questions and she wasn’t sure if she even knew her name just yet.

“Woo-hah, got them all in check.” Richie proceeds, head lifting a little to see if Freya’s eyes were even open as she rounded off lyrics.

Freya concludes, “Go to sleep.”

Enough said.

“I’ll try.”

The sight of flour sticky limbs entangled between two reconnected friends on another summer’s day went like this: cheek pressed against her’s, his facial hair pricking her skin which she didn’t seem to mind as snores actually escaped Richie’s lips, with his hand gripping Freya’s that was clutched to her own chest as their bodies gently rose in deep slumber.

The cares of the outside world were put on hold once more and Richie envisioned that this must be what heaven felt like. Nothing but a bit of light right in front of his eyes or in his arms to lead the way.

Cheers to some fucking clarity!

Sorry for the foul language dude or person or divine power up there…but Richie was thankful for it all.

꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱** ༉‧₊˚✧ ↝ ꒰ ° ꒱**

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #Richie jerimovich #richard jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x oc #ebon moss bachrach #neil fak #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #summer prompts #queued #the bear s2 #the bear season 2

95 notes · View notes