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#that was a hug then a confession then a shot and it was truth he couched in an act

januaryembrs · 1 month

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CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader

Request: read here

description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession

length: 1.5k

warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.

authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie

She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store.

It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight.

“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,”

He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare.

What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen.

And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real.

Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August.

Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three.

And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?

And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already.

“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing.

But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint.

She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench.

And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger.

Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife.

And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.

Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around.

But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car.

Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely.

“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.

She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”

“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?”

“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”

“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words.

“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,”

She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him.

“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.

“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.”

“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice.

“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”

She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.

And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise.

–

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #matthew grey gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

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heartcereql · 9 months

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𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀

☆ neteyam sully x reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒- the four times neteyam knew he was head over heels and the one time he confessed it.

𝐂𝐖- tooth rotting fluff, sappiest shit ever, kinda corny if u squint but they’re so parents, none overall.

𝐀/𝐍 - oh no what’s happening to me i’m actually active?????!!! also i had a bit of trouble posting this one so lmk if there are any mistakes x

the skies were in peaceful and unbothered calm. warm breeze caressed neteyam’s skin as he made his way through the forest, to the pond. to you. birds chirming in the background; it all confered the setting an idyllic ambience.

it didn’t take him long to finally reach the hypnotising, crystal-like waters of the pond. and there you stood, surrounded by sun rays and beautifully decorated branches. every thought he carried seemed to dissolve, as it always did.

watching you get undressed of your ornaments, only to dive into the water moments later, he realised that, with you, he was able to live in the moment. other worries ceased importance when you leaned in for a big kiss, wrapping his favourite perfume, your own, around him. you were enhacing in all ways possible.

he walked away from the hiding of branches, his figure becoming visible to you.

your face light up with his sight, a truthful and ebullient smile, calling out his name.

II.

he knew you were around his pod; however, he did not expect the scene he’d encounter as he approached his home.

you were sat on the ground, knees bent. tuktirey, his youngest sister, was sitting in the same position before you. besides the two of you laid a collection of wildflowers, jewels and beads. some of those he had previously seen on you. your hands were occupied combing tuk’s hair, tangling flowers into her braids and adorning some other braids with beads. while you ornamented her hair, you were entertaining tuk with stories, which went from tales to some of your experiences.

your face was relaxed, the softest of smiles settling on your lips, eyes looking at the younger na’vi with kindness. tuk’s smile was way wider, due to the constant laughter. truth be told, she admired you and loved spending time in your presence.

“and there you go!” you finally exclaimed, accomodating the last details.

tuk turned her body to you, excitement washing all over her.

“you look so pretty” you smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

she returned the smile, giving you a big hug. “ ‘m gonna go show mama!” she grinned before sprinting to find neytiri.

once she was gone, neteyam approached you.

“hey” you stood up to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. “your sister is the absolute cutest”

“she is. you know, you didn’t have to do this. you could’ve just, i don’t know, done something else. something fun” he said.

“this is my idea of fun” you shrugged, smile never abandoning your lips.

“and i adore you for that”

III.

his chin rested on your shoulder, embracing you with his arms from behind. one of his hands was laced with yours, caressing the back of your hand.

your eyes were locked with his in the reflection that the abandoned ship shot back. a lovesick smile adorning your and his features.

“i love us”

the words slipped off your mouth so casually they surprised neteyam. but he wasn’t complaining. he was eager to hear more, to listen to the mellifluous sound of your voice.

“what?” he asked in pure and bening confusion.

“i love us. i love you and me together” you elaborated, turning to face him. “i love how we fit each other.”

he tuck a loose strand of hair behing your ear. but his touch still lingered against your cheek.

“heaven is truly a place on pandora with you, y/n” he softly said. “better than i ever even knew”

you planted a kiss to his cheek before dozing off into the forest again, motioning for him to follow.

IV.

you couldn’t really recall how it had started. it didn’t really matter, though. the point was you both were laughing. laughing so wholeheartedly much. your laughs laced together melodically, although you were almost out of breath.

your cheeks hurt from all the grinning. your tummy hurt, too, that’s how hard and pure the laugh was. you couldn’t even open your eyes.

“i-” you broke into laughter again. “i can’t stop!”

you threw you head back, resting it against his shoulder. but it didn’t last long, for he was laughing so much. the whole scene only made you laugh even harder.

that same day, later on, you’d realise you could have stayed in that moment forever. worries dissolved, no tasks to fulfill, just him and you, enjoying such a mundane yet satisfying activity as laughing, living in your very own bubble.

as for neteyam, well, he was a goner as soon as he heard you giggle. it sounded so- addicting? yes, perhaps that was the word. the only thing he was sure about was that he never wanted to stop hearing you laugh.

“y/n!”

you turned to greet him with a warming smile, one that never seemed to leave your face whenever he was around.

“listen, i’ve ... i’ve been meaning to tell you something” he started, face suddenly flushed.

you immeadiatly frowned. confused and, yes, slightly afraid. those words didn’t usually announce good news.

“is everything okay?” you asked carefully.

“yeah, totally” he flashed you a smile, before avoiding your gaze once again. “it’s just i’ve been feeling different lately. i, well i don’t know how to word it, but, the world suddenly was more beautiful. life’s been refreshing. i felt like doing really pointless things, but doing them made me happy. and i found someone to do them with. i found someone who sees me. i found someone worth living this world with and for.”

your heart swelled with happiness. you didn’t consider yourself to be able to elaborate a worthy response. there was a glint in your eyes that made you even more ethereal now.

“well that might have been the most beautiful thing i’ve heard in my entire existance” you cracked a smile. “you truly are one of a kind”

he stepped closer to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“i can’t promise you forever, y/n. but i can promise you now, and everything i am”

you allowed yourself to avert your eyes to his lips for a fraction of second, before darting your orbs back at his. you couldn’t ask for more.

“you make my life better for just being in it.” you finally said, voice quiet. “and i can’t promise you forever either, because forever wouldn’t be enough”

he gifted you a smile, one you had grown to adore, to need even.

“kiss me” you whispered, not able to hold in your yearning anymore.

“all for you”

and then his lips were on yours, not for the first time, certainly not for the last time, but fervently, exploring in a way they had never before, saying unspoken words that translated that feeling you wanted the other so desperately to know but were afraid speaking wouldn’t be enough. feelings that would accompany you forever.

#avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #atwow x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam imagine #heartcereql

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devildomwriter · 5 months

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One Little Thing, A Ring Part V | Mammon x Reader

1.2K Words | GN! Reader | CW: Slight angst

Mammon blushed as you held him in your arms. He wiped the dried tears from his cheeks and tried to straighten his hair. You both sat in silence until Mammon couldn’t bear it and lied, “nothin’s wrong.”

You glared at him and he shifted awkwardly and looked up at the hanging Christmas lights instead. You followed his gaze and came to a partially true conclusion.

“Oh, is it holiday stress?”

Mammon decided this was technically the truth and he crossed his arms and nodded still blushing. Embarrassed he’d cried in his sleep. What was there to cry about…this was everything he wanted. But was he what you wanted? He had to be right?

You could tell Mammon’s mind was swirling with anxious thoughts and hugged his side. His breath hitched in his throat and he leaned his head on yours.

“Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it…” you whispered and he nodded.

It was quiet again and as soon as you turned the lights back off Mammon blurted out the question he’d been dying to ask. “Why do you love me?”

Your eyes shot open and you stared at him in amazement. “What!?” You gasped and he flinched in shock. He hadn’t expected that big of a reaction.

“What do you mean? Don’t I always tell you, all the time?” You asked, concerned your absence with work was taking a toll on him—he was always pretty sensitive, and as hard as he tried not to, he wore his heart on his sleeve. It broke your heart to see his conflicted expression and you began to panic.

Why was he thinking these things now of all times? You hoped this wouldn’t ruin everything and bit your lip anxiously.

Mammon was quick to assure you that you’d done nothing wrong. He quickly got out of bed and started pacing the floor, trying to get rid of his excess nerves.

“Like…I mean…I ain’t rich…like I’m tryin’ but…” he sighed and finally let it all loose. “Why’d you choose me? Im happy ya did obviously but like, I’m not a prince like Diavolo, I’m not a trillionaire or whatever he is like Mephistopheles. I don’t control time, I’m not the strongest brother, I don’t summon a giant ass fish-snake-thing, I can’t charm entire crowds, I’m not a famous author or heaven’s greatest warrior. Hell, I can’t even cook, and half the time I clean things it ends up worse! Aren’t ya gonna regret it?” You gasped and he held a hand over his chest.

A tear slipped down your cheek and he froze, pale as a ghost.

“Mammon…I will never, ever regret you.”

Mammon’s heart lifted slowly as you continued. “I do not love you for money. I do not love you for power. I do not love you for fame. I don’t love you for a home-cooked meal or a journey through time.” You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his exposed chest. “Mammon. I love you because you’re kind. You care far more than people realize. You’re both extremely adorable and incredibly handsome. You always think about how I feel first. You might steal your brothers’ things but you’re also the first to jump to their defense and put yourself in harm’s way. You are loyal to your family and your friends. I love you because you are amazing. You’re my greatest support, my strongest ally, my most cherished friend. Everyone else is family to me, cherished family…but I don’t love them like I love you.”

Mammon was sniffling and holding back his tears as he hugged you tightly.

“I-I’m sorry,” he practically wailed.

“What? Why are you sorry?” You asked, dumbfounded.

“The truth is I’m stressed…I’m stressed because,” he blushed and decided to confess what he’d found. “Cause I went snooping through your room and I found the wishlist you made…and I wanted to get ya the perfect ring but…”

Your eyes widened in shock as he groveled.

“But I’ve always been too damn nervous to ask ya what ya like best and even though I’m breaking my back for Diavolo and Barbatos, I definitely won’t have enough money to get you the perfect ring for you! I can’t even figure out what would be the perfect ring because you look good in all of them,” he blushed madly and the room was silent.

You stepped back from Mammon and turned around to head to your bed.

“Huh-Wha?” Mammon was astonished you’d just walk away and became nervous he’d said too much.

“I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t have snooped—“

You held the piece of paper to his face that he had tucked back into the envelope and hidden back underneath your bed.

“This is my wishlist?” You asked and he nodded shyly.

Again there was silence until you shook your head and began to laugh. Your laughter grew louder and you fell onto the bed, clutching your stomach.

Mammon was bright red. He’d never felt so embarrassed.

“H-Hey! What’s the big idea laughin’ at me!”

You shook your head and wiped the tears out of your eyes. “Oh, Mammon…” you giggled and reached back under the bed. You pulled out the gifts you’d wrapped for him.

“Mammon,” you said, making sure he was paying attention.

“Y-yeah?”

“That wasn’t my wishlist.”

Mammon froze, “h-huh!?” He hid his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe he really thought you were ready to tie the knot.

You grabbed Mammon’s hands and he slowly took them away to see you kneeling in front of him.

“It was my checklist,” you clarified and his eyes widened. “I was planning on waiting until Christmas Day but…”

Mammon let out a loud gasp and his hands shook as you held up a small velvet box.

“Mammon…will you make me the happiest person in all the realms and marry me?”

Mammon’s floodgates open and his lip quivered. He nodded enthusiastically and leaned into your arms. The box fell from your hand as he hugged you on the floor.

“Yes! Yes of course I will!”

You laughed excitedly and hugged him tightly. You felt his small wings flap in excitement and stayed there on the floor frozen in time.

Minutes passed and Mammon had finally calmed his heart. He sat back up and pulled you with him. He crawled to reach the box and opened it back up to see the shining golden ring inside embroidered with diamonds.

“Shit…how’d ya even afford this beauty?”

You laughed, “That’s why I’ve been working so hard lately too.”

Mammon chuckled that you’d both had the same objective this entire time and he hugged you again. “Here,” you declare, taking the box back. “Let me put it on your finger.”

Mammon nodded and his wings flapped as you slid the ring onto his finger. It was a little big but with a few words of sorcery, it fit like a dime.

Mammon grinned, blushing madly, and began laughing. He jumped to his feet and ran to the door beckoning you over, “c’mon! We’re showing everyone right now!”

“On one condition,” you grinned and he nodded, waiting to hear it. “Introduce me as your fiancé.”

He turned redder than he was before and nodded quickly as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door behind him.

“Hey idiots wake up! Guess what, you were so wrong!”

~Fin

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me angst #omswd mammon x reader #omswd x reader #one little thing series

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poetry-protest-pornography · 8 months

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Alexa, play Hey, Jealousy

This whole scene, Kang is obviously feeling jealous, because Pimfah is listing reasons why she likes Sailom. But! It easily reads as Kang struggling to confront the truth of what she's saying. Because he knows all these things about Sailom, he feels the same way about him, but he hasn't allowed himself to contextualize those feelings as "why I like Sailom".

That reality is why Kang is struggling to maintain his friendly interaction with Sailom after.

This is pretty straight forward jealousy.

Except that Kang got more upset when Sailom said that he pushed him to the cheerleading thing so that he could have a shot with Pimfah.

Kang thinks he's upset because Pim likes Sailom, but he's also upset because if Pim likes Sailom, then obviously Sailom will date her, she's great, but then Sailom will be dating her. And those feelings are very big and very confusing. Which we see here:

For Kang, Pim and Sailom dating was the logical conclusion. Sailom is a great guy, and Pim is the best, of course they'll get together.

When they don't, it's a threat to the narrative he's created, where he's jealous of Sailom, not because of Sailom. Where he can put everyone and all his feelings back into little boxes if his two friends just get together like they should. Where he can deal with the blow to his plan to give his dad what he wants, and marry someone who can give him kids, if everyone would just behave like they're supposed to.

This one is... this is the start of Kang figuring his shit out.

Guy literally rips Sailom away from Kang, and Kang can't even argue that Sailom is his friend, too, because he's very much not been a friend to him, and Sailom is actively keeping his distance.

Kang arrives with breakfast excited -- his body language is a little nervous, but almost giddy as he runs up the stairs with that cautiously optimistic smile. He's ready to mend fences and probably apologize, and reestablish their friendship (and ignore Sailom's confession, because Kang is Not there yet).

And there's his future best friend in law Guy, taking care of Sailom the way he wants to be, and he's hurt, but he's also angry that he's missed his chance. This is where he's fully aware of the cause of his jealousy.

THEN! THIS!

THIS BEAUTIFUL SCENE!

Kang's friends are sure he's upset about the seniors being shitty to him and not acknowledging his contribution to the game. They're offering reassurances that he's earned his spot, but Kang hears none of it, because all he can see is Sailom hugging and congratulating Guy, smiling and being happy with Guy.

And here's where it all solidifies.

Where "Sailom works so hard, and he makes me feel like I should work hard, too" and "she likes you (why does that make me so mad)" and "I like you" and "he's my friend" all coalesce, and Kang gets it.

He understands that what he's feeling is romantic interest. That he needs to fix what he broke right now.

Of course, he's still 17/18 and dumb, because what he opens with is this:

Which like, yeah baby, we know. But that's not the important information from that little revelation. And Sailom, bless his little angry gay heart, rightfully responds with "And? Who tf do you think you are?"

Kang is clearly struggling. Struggling with Sailom's anger, and with finding the right thing to say that will appease him and also be true-- the thing that will quiet the screaming in his heart, because big feelings are not his forte.

And then Sailom deflates a little, and says "Please, can you just tell me?" and asks tiredly if he's somehow made Kang feel guilty again (because why else would Kang be there, there's nothing between them, right? They're not friends, Kang just feels guilty about how he's treated Sailom, right) And then, Kang knows what to do.

(it's also Very Interesting to me that in an episode that told so much of its story in flashback montages, the one that we get right when they kiss is "I used to hate it, but I think I'm starting to like it", because despite everything, Kang has never hated Sailom. Dude has been obsessed from the start)

Anyway, this was going to be a funny post with just the pictures of our boy being jealous, and then figuring out why, but obviously I'm not normal about them and this happened. *shrug emoji*

#dangerous romance the series #dangerous romance #kangsailom

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f1nalgirlz · 8 months

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sleepovers are fun! | Charlie Walker ♡

In which Charlie and y/n have a special moment at Kirby’s “kick off for October sleepover”

≪warnings≫ sexual content, nsfw, feminine pronouns, alcohol

≪ contents≫ Charlie Walker x you, Charlie Walker x Reader, exhibitionism kind of??, creampie, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, kinda dom charlie?

The sun was setting as Y/N walked to Kirby’s house, it being the first day of October the air was cool. As she tracked along, she examined all the trees that were shifting in color smiling to herself. Y/N absolutely loved this time of year, and she was excited to be going to a sleepover that celebrates it. It was Kirby’s annual kickoff October sleepover that she’d came to every year since 8th grade. It was a tradition they were happy to continue every year being best friends, of course more people joined over the years. Y/N broke from her thoughts as her shoes hit Kirby’s stairs, instantly running up them and knocking on her door. After a few moments the door swung open and there stood her very best friend, Kirby, who pulled Y/N into a tight hug, dragging her inside. She looked around and smiled. “no one else get here yet?” she asks, looking inquisitively at Kirby. “Nope. Not yet! You’re first as always, Y/N.” she grinned at her and began leading her to the kitchen. “Shall we have a few drinks on this fine night?” She asks, leaning on her counter. Y/N nodded. “Yes, please.” She said happily as Kirby started making the drinks. Soon, familiar faces started pouring in. Jill and her douche boyfriend Trevor, Olivia, Robbie, and last to arrive was Charlie. Charlie was probably Y/N’s closest friend besides Kirby. What she didn’t know however, was how big of a raging crush Charlie had been harboring for her for years. He hid it decently well, not daring to speak it out loud to anyone, but he jumped at any opportunity to be alone with y/n or even just near her.

The night had gone well so far, everyone was having fun and gotten a few drinks in them. It was at this point in the night someone, maybe Olivia, had expressed they should play truth or dare, which everyone happily agreed to in their slightly inebriated shape. A few turns went by, daring a few people to take shots or silly secrets being confessed. When it was Charlie’s turn, Kirby asked him the question that lit everyone’s nerves up. “Truth or dare, Charlie?” It seemed like he was thinking before answering, “Dare.” As he answered Kirby face changed a little, a mischievous smile working its way onto her lips. See, Kirby had kind of sussed out Charlie’s crush on her best friend. Of course he’d never said it out loud to her, but she could just tell when things shifted. When slowly Charlie’s crush on her had fizzled out, yet he still lingered closely around her and her best friend. She’d never told Y/N about it of course, she believed herself to be a better person than someone who’d rat out someone’s crush. “Charlie, I dare you to kiss Y/N. Not a peck either really plant one on her!” She said, laughing happily.

“Kirby!” Y/N gasped, shooting her a look. It’s not that she’d had anything against Charlie, far from it, but she was a little nervous something as silly as a truth or dare kiss would jam a wedge in their friendship. “You guys have to, it was a dare.” Olivia chimed in, gaining nods in agreement from Jill and Trevor. Charlie, who was sitting beside you just shrugged, trying to act cool on the outside even though his insides were burning up. He was genuinely having an internal freak out. Getting to finally kiss you had NOT been in his plans. “Let’s just go for it,” Y/N mumbled, leaning in towards Charlie. He slightly panicked but shoved their lips together, the kiss lasted for a few moments before they both pulled away. The group around them laughing, cheering, and clapping at the two. As much as y/n really wanted to deny it, she felt something…it felt different. It felt good and she liked it, maybe it was because she was slightly tipsy but for the rest of the game she found herself craving more, glancing over at Charlie. Nobody really noticed.

It had gotten much later, everyone had found their way to a place to sleep. Robbie had taken his sleeping bag into an office room, closing the door behind him. Kirby went to her bed, inviting Y/N and Jill to go with her as they slept every year but only Jill accepted. Olivia followed the two up the stairs, sleeping bag in hand. Trevor had found his way to a spare bedroom quickly, as if he didn’t want anyone to steal it.

Y/N simply needed to clear her head alone, worried about what those feelings from earlier meant. She’d walked into an empty room, changing into some shorts and taking her bra off, just wanting to be comfortable. As she laid on the couch, her thoughts were cut short as Charlie walked back in from the bathroom where he’d been. Hair still damp from the shower he’d been taking. He was grabbing his sleeping bag off the floor and walking right towards Y/N. She sat up. “Is it cool if I sleep in here? I don’t want to bother you.” He said. She nodded, her heart speeding up. Why? Why now? “Uh yeah sure.” She said,looking at him as he began to lay out his sleeping bag on the ground next to the couch. They’d slept like this before at different sleepovers throughout the years, so why now did it make her heart beat out of her chest? As Charlie sat down onto his sleeping bag, sorting himself out for the night, y/n got up rather abruptly. She walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring herself at least 3 shots, gulping them all down at once. Charlie noticed, but chose to not chase after her, simply watching from the living room floor. Y/N made her way back and sat down on the couch, looking down to Charlie on the floor. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, his lips, the way his lips felt on her own… she felt like she was going crazy. “Are you okay?” He asked her, but he didn’t receive an answer he got met with lips against his own. Her hands grabbed onto his cheeks as she made her way onto the floor with him. While he was internally freaking out, he was incredibly excited, grabbing onto her waist and pulling her into him. They continued like that for a while until Charlie rolled her over onto her back, hovering over her as they stared at each other. “I want you.” She whispered, staring at him, it’s like all the internal tension has solved itself and she knew exactly what she wanted. He gave her a nod and dipped back down for a kiss, trailing those kisses down her neck, his wet hair making her shiver as it touched her arm. He slowly pulled up her tank top, attacking her, now bare, chest and stomach with slow kisses. Both of their cheeks were burning red at this point. As he made his way down to her waist band, he looked up at her to see her nodding, almost pleading. His fingers latched on to her shorts and tugged them down, panties coming with them. He stared at her heat for a moment, cheeks burning but it didn’t take long for him to enthusiastically bury his face between her thighs. He’d never done anything like this before, but he had watched hours of porn and tutorials, hoping and praying that one day this moment would come. He began licking her folds, making his way to find her clit. When she gasped a little louder than previously, he assumed he’d found it, beginning to lick at the bundle of nerves. Y/N’s body reacted so well to him, she felt like her whole body was on fire. As Charlie licked more aggressively, beginning to suck on the bud every now and again, she could feel slick dripping from her hole. She was doing her best to stay quiet but let out a low moan when Charlie sank a single finger into her, continuing with his mouth at the same time. The one was followed by another and soon Y/N was gently shaking all over. He pulled his fingers out, moving his head down to her hole to get one last lick, filling his mouth with her wetness. She whined when he stopped and looked at him. “Why’d you stop?” She huffed out, but he just smiled softly. “Do you want to go further?” He whispered, she caught on and nodded. He pulled down his plaid green pajama pants and underwear. His cock bounced out clearly already hard, just from eating her out. He grabbed his dick with one hand lining it up with her hole and pushing just the tip inside her. She moaned, feeling like her insides were just throbbing for him. He continued to push his cock into the warm embrace of her wetness, grabbing under her knees and pushing them back, exposing more of her. He nearly drooled at the sight of his dick buried in her pussy.

Y/N felt like she could barely breathe, her cunt ached around his cock, needing movement or she felt like she would explode. As if reading her mind, Charlie slowly started thrusting into her, the wet sound her pussy made as he fucked into her, just made him hornier. The two tried to remain quiet, only letting out soft moans and grunts. Charlie had sped up, removing one hand from under her legs and moving it to almost grip onto her pussy, locating her clit with his thumb and rubbing it, this sent a shock through her body and her legs twitched. She felt so close to an orgasm she could hardly think, gripping onto Charlie’s sleeping bag with one hand and digging her nails into his shoulder with the other. She soon felt a hot liquid shooting deep into her, filling up her insides followed by the sound of Charlie moaning, body shaking. This sent her over the edge, her body shaking as she orgasmed, pussy clenching around Charlie, milking every last drop from him. When he finally pulled out, they were both panting. They kissed again, another slow kiss. Charlie pulled his pants back up, as well as Y/N’s trapping his cum that was flowing out inside her panties. She sat up and pulled her tank top down, blushing deeply. “So um..” she started but was interrupted by the sound of feet coming down the stairs.

R: Soooo… idk if anyone will actually read this, I need to express my hyperfixation somehow. I haven’t written anything like this in years so please bare with me. If someone does read this I’d love more ideas please please please!!! 🩷

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elikajinnie · 3 months

Text

You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader PART 2

PART 2 OF 3 Pairing: Ghostface!LeeHeeseung X Fem!reader

Please read Part 1 before proceeding if you haven`t already!

Genre: Romance, Horror/Thriller

Wordcount: 35k

Warnings: Swearing (Offensive words), Stalking, Obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, Blood/Injury, Violence, Graphic depictions of injury, Attempted murder, Murder, Mental health struggles, Family struggles, Self confidence issues, Bullying, Kidnapping, Jealousy, Alcohol and Drug use, Heeseung kinda goes feral?? does that count as a warning? !!KINDA MATURE CONTENT!! Minors beware!!

a/n: It took awhile to finish this chapter, but i finally dug myself out of the writing block i had and completed. So this chapter is longer then the second, combined together the fic has an estimated wordcount of 48k. Some scenes have been inspired from the Scream movies and The Slumber Party Massacre. I do not take any credit from that, so be free to check them out. I also wanna personally thank my pookies for giving me motivation to finish it <3 ANyways! Enjoy this long ass chapter :3

REMEMBER!; This is purely fictional and just for fun. I do not wish any harm upon any characters.

Important note!

When in costume Heeseung will be described as Ghostface when they do not know his identity.

The dialouges are kinda cheesy at times and suck so dont mind it.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

You sat in the cold, sterile room of the police station, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The air was heavy with tension, and the room echoed with the hushed conversations of officers and the distant ring of phones. The chair beneath you felt uncomfortable, but you held yourself with crossed arms, gaze fixed on the waiting area where grief-stricken families sought solace in their shared sorrow.

Your eyes, however, betrayed no tears. The well of grief within you had been drained, leaving only an unsettling emptiness. Yeji's family and your own were engulfed in a sea of tears, but you couldn't bring yourself to join their sorrow. The pain had numbed you, turning your emotions into a distant echo of what they once were. And, to make matters worse, the perpetrators of Yeji's death claimed innocence, painting it as an accident and an act of self-defense. A bitter scoff escaped your thoughts—self-defense, yeah right.

Heeseung, had confessed that he never intended to harm Yeji, planning to leave her alive. However, that plan unraveled in chaos when the police arrived, turning the night into what the media dubbed The Nightfall Homicide. The name seemed eerily fitting, a descriptor for the tragedy that had unfolded.

In the cramped room, you listened to the officer's questions, his words a distant hum in your ears. The memories of that night, now tainted with the knowledge of Heeseung's double life, clouded your responses. You found yourself withholding the truth, a newfound reluctance to reveal the dark secret that had unfolded in that secluded hut.

"I told you, we were partying," you recited mechanically, your voice betraying none of the turmoil within. "I went to the bathroom, came back, and the chaos had erupted. The police arrived, shot Yeji, and I blacked out from the shock. Woke up in the forest and walked back. I don't remember anything more." The officer nodded, accepting your words, though a subtle skepticism lingered in his gaze.

As you exited the room, your younger brother, Kyungmin, lunged at you, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate hug. His plea not to die clung to the air, and you reassured him with a murmur. The weight of the situation pressed on your shoulders as you shifted your gaze to the adjacent room, where Heeseung sat, a striking contrast to the stark police station backdrop. His presence alone seemed to make the air thicker, your breath hitching as your eyes locked onto his. He occupied the chair with an unsettling ease, facing directly towards you, his posture exuding a disconcerting nonchalance. Legs casually spread, he idly played with a coin between his fingers.

Your unease intensified as you noticed his intense gaze fixed solely on you. The officer conducting the interview seemed oblivious to the silent exchange, engrossed in paperwork or perhaps wilfully ignorant of the tension building in the room. Heeseung tilted his head, a smirk dancing on his lips, a chilling expression that sent shivers down your spine. A gulp caught in your throat as he toyed with you, his eyes narrowing in a way that suggested an unspoken challenge.

The momentary confrontation shattered as the officer redirected their attention back to Heeseung. His smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a mask of innocence, as if he were hanging on every word the officer uttered. The speed at which he shifted his expressions, from smirking provocatively to feigning cooperation, sent a chill down your spine. It was unnerving, the way he effortlessly danced between personas.

The clarity dawned on you—the stark absence of his scent, the lingering touch of his hands, and the distant memory of his lips on yours allowed your mind to untangle itself from the web of emotions. As you watched him, questions echoed loudly in your mind, demanding answers that seemed elusive in the fog of uncertainty. Why was Heeseung a killer? What drove him to act this way, and why did he reserve a special kind of attention for you?

Your heart and brain waged war within you, locked in a relentless battle. The dissonance between the memories of his affection and the grim reality of his actions created a storm in your mind, leaving you standing at the center, grappling with the aftermath of a truth that shattered the illusion of who you thought he was.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The room was bathed in the soft glow of a lone lamp, casting shadows that danced along the walls. You sat at your desk, notebook open, pen in hand, attempting to immerse yourself in schoolwork. The day had been long, emotions running all over the place, and sleep felt elusive. Your family had retired to their beds, asleep, but you found yourself unable to succumb to the embrace of slumber.

Two distinct knocks on your window disrupted the quiet of your room. Your head snapped towards the source of the sound, confusion etched on your face. You cautiously approached the window, pulling aside the curtains to peer into the darkness outside. The moon's feeble light offered little clarity, and you hesitated before opening the window to investigate further.

A figure materialized before you, and with an involuntary yelp, you stumbled backward. "Heeseung! What are you doing here?" you hissed, the surprise evident in your voice. Heeseung attempted a graceful entrance through the window but ended up tripping, the thud of his landing echoing in the room. With a sheepish "oof," he got up, closing the window behind him.

"I wanted to see you," he confessed, drawing closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "But... I thought you were still at the police station or..." Your words trailed off, lost in the jumble of thoughts racing through your mind. Heeseung silenced you with a reassuring shush, pulling you into a warm embrace. At first, you stiffened, the memory of recent events resurfacing, but gradually, you found comfort in his arms.

"You didn't say anything to the cops," Heeseung mumbled as his gaze wandered around your room. "Yeah... I didn't," you admitted, unsure of the implications. "Good," he replied, settling on your bed and noticing the schoolwork spread across it. "Still working, hm?" A casual smile adorned his face. You shrugged in response, and he patted the space next to him, inviting you to sit.

A violent storm of inquiries raged within the confines of your mind, each question vying for attention, clamoring to be voiced. Yet, as you attempted to give voice to the cacophony of thoughts, an inexplicable restraint silenced you. "I can hear you thinking," Heeseung's voice cut through the quiet, drawing your attention. You looked up, eyes widening as you found his gaze fixed upon you, a contemplative darkness shrouding his eyes. His face remained an enigma, devoid of emotion.

"Sorry..." you uttered, a feeble apology, as Heeseung gently seized your hands in his. You couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the seemingly tender hold and the gruesome reality your mind incessantly reminded you of. Those same hands that now sought connection had wielded a weapon, held a knife, and bore the evidence of violence, your blood staining their once seemingly innocent surface.

A shiver ran down your spine as you pulled back, a reflex driven by the reminder of the dual nature residing within those hands. The conflict within you intensified – the desire for comfort at odds with the fear embedded in your memories. The room hung heavy with unspoken tension, a palpable silence punctuated only by the beating of your heart and the weight of your unuttered questions, imprisoned within the recesses of your mind.

"Look... why did you come here?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung sighed, "I just wanted to see you. Listen, I know you're mad and confused, but I won't hurt you. I promise." He tilted your head up, and in his eyes, you found a sincerity that tugged at your doubts.

"Okay... but can you leave?" you requested, your gaze drifting away. Heeseung, seemingly taken aback, huffed and stood up. "Sure," he replied before surprising you, grabbing your jaw and leaning down to whisper in your ear. "But remember, you are mine now." With those words hanging in the air, he climbed out of the window.

You hastily closed the window behind him, the room now echoing with the weight of his departure. As you collapsed onto your bed, a wave of tears escaped, tracing wet paths down your cheeks and onto the bedding. Exhausted, confused, and emotionally drained, you succumbed to the fatigue, seeking refuge in the solace of a restless sleep.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The school hallways stretched before you like a desolate maze, each step heavy with the weight of grief and the relentless whispers that followed you. Your bag, laden with textbooks and unspoken burdens, hung from your shoulder as you trudged toward your locker. The days leading up to the school's reopening had been a nightmarish blur – a cacophony of sleepless nights and missed meals, the relentless gossip clawing at your fragile composure. Heeseung's absence, a void in your life, left you feeling hollow, uncertain if it was the vacancy or the lingering shock that cast a pallor over your existence.

As you walked alone through the corridors, the usual chatter seemed distant, and the faces that turned toward you carried a mix of sympathy and morbid curiosity. You scanned the crowded hallways in vain for Heeseung, but he remained elusive, adding another layer of unease to your already heavy heart.

Gathering your books, you made your way to class, the weight of loneliness accentuated by the empty seat beside you where Yeji used to sit. The desk stood as a poignant reminder of the void left by her absence. The principal's voice crackled through the speakers, momentarily breaking the uneasy silence, as he addressed the student body with a somber acknowledgment of the lives lost to the Ghostface killer. The words offered little solace, and the notion of moving forward seemed an insurmountable task.

Sighing, you leaned over your desk, lost in the shadows of your own thoughts. The monotony was interrupted by a voice – Kim Taehyung, a high viewed person in the high school popularity. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, and you shrugged, the emptiness of the seat beside you an invitation.

"I've heard a lot about you, Y/N," Taehyung stated, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. "Yeah, sure you have," you replied, fully aware of the rumors that painted you as a survivor of Ghostface's relentless pursuit.

His question echoed in the hollow spaces of the classroom, "Is there any reason why you have survived against him?" A peculiar intensity colored his gaze, unsettling you. "I don't know... I always ran and fought," you replied, a simple truth.

As you shifted your gaze from Taehyung to the front of the class, a sudden tension gripped the air, as Heeseung, entered the room. His eyes, drawn like magnets, found you immediately. Yet, as his gaze lingered, it snapped abruptly to Taehyung, who had leaned over to you with an question that sliced through the stifling quiet.

"Heeey, do you know who Ghostface is?" Taehyung's question hung in the air.

Shock painted your features, the abruptness of the question catching you off guard. "What?" you asked, incredulous. "Why would you ask this stuff?" The words tumbled out, a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Taehyung, sensing the rising tension, put his arms up in a placating gesture. "Hey, it's just a question!" he protested, his tone attempting to diffuse the sudden hostility.

"Yeah, well, you seem very stuck on Ghostface," you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The intensity of Heeseung's glare toward Taehyung was palpable, a silent warning that cut through the charged atmosphere. You could almost feel the weight of Heeseung's unspoken threats, and, somehow, you didn't doubt for a moment that he was capable of carrying them out.

Just as the situation reached a boiling point, the timely entrance of the teacher disrupted the building tension. Heeseung, now robbed of immediate action, had no choice but to take his seat, back where Jay had ushered him earlier.

The minutes dragged on in the classroom, each second feeling like an eternity as you struggled to concentrate on the lesson. Heeseung's piercing gaze bore into the back of your neck, a constant reminder of his presence. The weight of his stare created an almost tangible pressure, making it difficult for you to focus on anything other than the unnerving energy radiating from him.

As you tried to navigate the sea of swirling thoughts, it became apparent that Taehyung was also affected by the charged atmosphere. His usually relaxed demeanor had shifted to one of stiffness, as if he, too, could feel the invisible tension in the room.

The bell finally rang, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Quickly rising from your seat, you made your way toward the exit. However, your attempt to escape the suffocating atmosphere was short-lived, as Taehyung followed you out.

Annoyance etched across your face, you turned to face him, questioning his persistence. "What are you doing..." you asked, a tone of irritation lacing your words.

"Nothing! It's just—well, you didn't answer my question!" Taehyung exclaimed, his eagerness revealing a certain fixation on the topic that left you uneasy.

In your peripheral vision, Heeseung lingered, a silent figure observing the exchange. "No. I don't know who Ghostface is. His mask is always on. Now leave me alone." The words, firm and final, left no room for further discussion as you walked away, a flicker of relief washing over you as Taehyung, thankfully, chose not to follow.

The bustling sounds of the cafeteria gradually faded as you walked past it, as you did not feel any desire for food. As you turned a corner, the unexpected collision with someone jolted you back to the present. Looking up, your eyes met Heeseung's, who stood there, leaning against the wall with an air of anticipation.

"Heeseung?" you whispered, confusion etching your features. Before you could question his presence, he swiftly grabbed you and ushered you into the janitor's closet, deftly locking the door behind you.

"What did Taehyung-ssi want?" he asked, hands gently caressing your arms. "He asked about you—well, about Ghostface," you replied. Heeseung's eyes lingered on yours, then drifted to your lips. An almost-kiss hung between you, halted in anticipation.

"May I kiss you, my love?" he inquired, seeking your permission. You nodded, but Heeseung demanded more. "Words, love. I need words." A nod from you wasn't enough; he craved words. "Yes," you said, granting him permission. A satisfied smile graced Heeseung's lips as he bridged the gap, initiating a kiss. An electric spark ignited as your lips met, and you gasped when Heeseung tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

His hand found your waist, pulling you closer, and he pressed you against the wall. The other hand supported his weight, creating an intimate embrace. "Fuck, I missed you," Heeseung murmured between kisses, his lips trailing down your jaw and throat. Collateral to his ardor, he adjusted your collar, pulling it down as it hindered his path. A sudden bite against your neck made you jump, and as he pulled back, a mischievous grin played on his lips.

"Now Taehyung knows you are taken," he declared, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand found its way to your neck, thumb on your jaw, and index finger tracing your cheek as he hummed, savoring the moment, while you squeezed your eyes shut, caught in a whirlwind of sensations.

The fervent exchange of kisses consumed you, Heeseung's touch igniting your senses. Pinned against the wall, your mind buzzed with the intensity of the moment – his lips on yours, his distinct scent enveloping you, his hands exploring every inch of your being. Your fingers clung to his shirt and neck, desperate to hold onto the sensations he stirred. His groans and whispered praises fueled the passionate encounter.

As the intensity of the moment peaked, Heeseung left a trail of bite marks and love bites across your skin, each one a testament to the desire that consumed you both. With each mark he left, you felt a surge of pleasure ripple through you, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

As the distant bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you gasped for air, attempting to break free from the all-encompassing kiss. Heeseung, however, pursued your lips, capturing them once more. "Heeseung," you managed to utter between breaths, but his fervor persisted. "The bell," you insisted, feeling the urgency of the passing time.

"Skip with me," he pleaded, his words laced with desperation. He tilted your jaw up, examining the marks and bites he had left on your collarbone, throat, and neck, a sense of accomplishment evident in his humming. Overwhelmed, you gulped, and before rational thought could intervene, you nodded. Heeseung grinned, seizing your hand and pulling you out of the janitor's closet. Together, you raced through the now deserted halls, escaping the beginning of the next class.

Outside, you both ran through the empty streets until Heeseung stopped by a serene lake. Turning to you with a smile, he guided you down to the water's edge. "Why are we here?" you asked, curious about his choice. "It's my favorite place," Heeseung confessed, his gaze fixed on the distance. "I haven't been able to come here for a while." The sincerity in his words caught you off guard. "Is this a special place for you?" you asked, seeking to understand the layers behind the man who, despite his dark actions, appeared lost. Heeseung nodded, meeting your eyes before returning his gaze to the water. Unable to find words, you embraced him, and after a brief hesitation, he reciprocated, his face nestled against your neck, his form trembling ever so slightly in your arms.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

In the quiet confines of your room, the soft glow of the moon painted a delicate tapestry across the ceiling. Lying in bed, you found yourself enveloped in the dim illumination. Fingers intertwined, you absentmindedly fiddled with your hands.

Confusion reigned as you grappled with emotions that had evolved from a simple crush on Heeseung into a complex, undeniable love. The journey from infatuation to this deep, forbidden affection was unexpected, and you struggled to reconcile the warmth that surged through you whenever Heeseung was near with the harsh reality of his dark secret.

With every stolen glance, your heart seemed to flutter, almost smiling in response to the mere presence of Heeseung. The touch of his lips on yours sent your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and the brush of his fingers against your skin set it tingling with an electric charge. His captivating gaze, those dark eyes that held a universe of mystery, had the power to turn your legs into jelly.

Yet, amidst the euphoria of love, an undeniable truth lingered—an uncomfortable awareness that Heeseung was a murderer. The police, having found Beomseok in the Ghostface costume, believed they had solved the case. However, recent news stories hinted at the contrary. Murders continued, marked by the enigmatic Ghostface masks left at the scenes, challenging the assumption that the killer had been unmasked.

In the silence of your room, the conflict within your heart manifested in the gentle rise and fall of your chest. You pondered the morality of your emotions, wrestling with the profound love you felt for a man who lived a double life—one of tender affection with you and another steeped in darkness.

The echo of the argument resonated in the corridors of your memory, a haunting playback of words that lingered in the silence of your thoughts. It was a scene etched vividly—the dimly lit kitchen in Heeseung's house, the weight of your question hanging in the air like a storm on the horizon.

Heeseung, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, confronted your question with an unsettling nonchalance. "What?" His voice held a detached quality. "Did you kill all those people that are on the news?" you pressed, the words carrying a heaviness that seemed to punctuate the air.

"Well..." Heeseung's response was a hesitant admission, a glimpse into a world stained by the consequences of his actions. "Not all of them, at least not the ones where the mask is left behind. Amateur move, honestly." he dismissed, scratching his neck as if contemplating the simplicity of the copycat killer. The chilling revelation, sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you were discussing a mundane topic, not probing the depths of a heinous crime.

The revelation brought forth a torrent of emotions, a mixture of fear, anger, and a profound sadness. "So someone is acting like they are you, doesn't that bother you?" The question hung in the air, a plea for acknowledgment that the reality of his actions should stir something within him.

However, Heeseung's response, delivered with an eerie calmness, further unraveled the threads of your emotions. "No? Why should I?" he retorted, indifferent to the gravity of the crimes that mirrored his own. "Because they're doing the same thing! Killing! Hurting. That's wrong!" you said.

In a hauntingly intimate gesture, Heeseung closed the distance, his hand seizing your jaw, commanding your attention. "As long as they don't touch you," he murmured, his words a possessive declaration that resonated down to your very core. His hand descended to your neck, fingers tracing a delicate path, as he swore, "I will kill them if they touch what's mine." The tension crackling in the air like electricity. Heeseung, undeterred, leaned in for a kiss, seizing the moment to entangle your senses in a web of conflicting emotions. His tongue invaded the space between your lips, a calculated move to distract and claim, his other hand enveloping your waist.

Your legs shook as he pulled you closer, his tongue slipping past your lips in an invasive dance. There was a desperate urge to succumb, to lose yourself in the intoxicating familiarity of his touch. Yet, with an iron resolve, you pushed him away, breaking the suffocating embrace. "I just... I can't do this now, Heeseung," you whispered, your voice a fragile echo in the room. In that moment, you turned away from him, the sanctuary of his home now tainted with the bitter taste of reality.

Without waiting for a response, you bolted, your footsteps echoing through the hallway as you fled from the confrontation you weren't ready to face. The door slammed shut behind you, a final punctuation mark to a conversation that left wounds too raw to bear.

The outside world greeted you with the cool embrace of the night, the stars a witness. As you ran through the quiet streets, the rhythmic cadence of your steps became a desperate heartbeat, each stride a futile attempt to outrun the truth.

Heeseung, left behind in his own dwelling, resisted the urge to chase after you. His silhouette stood tall in the doorway, bathed in the muted glow filtering through the windows. Leaning his head down, his eyes fixated on the space you once occupied, he wore a cold stare that betrayed no emotion.

The memory played like a vivid nightmare, each detail etched in your mind—the coldness of his stare as you escaped, the desperation that radiated from you, and the haunting realization that love had entangled you in a dangerous dance with a man who lived in shadows.

Heeseungs Pov:

Heeseung's days at school turned into a relentless quest, a desperate pursuit to find you, to have a moment alone, to bridge the widening gap that seemed to stretch with each passing day. Yet, you were always two steps ahead, a phantom in the hallways, eluding his attempts to catch even a glimpse of you. The avoidance seemed like a deliberate dance, and he, despite his persistent efforts, was left yearning for a moment to talk, to connect.

His texts, now read with the status delivered. Calls, once filled with the warmth of your voice, turned into one-sided conversations as he was greeted by the coldness of voicemail. The frustration mounted, and Heeseung, a master of control, felt his grasp slipping.

One evening, driven to the brink of desperation, he climbed up to your window, a silent plea etched on his face. The curtains, drawn tightly shut, denied him even a glimpse of the space where you laid. Knocking on the window in the darkness, he called your name, but the room remained shrouded in silence.

The realization hit him like a cold gust of wind—his efforts, no matter how persistent, couldn't breach the walls you had built. The decision weighed heavy on him, but with a heavy heart, he conceded to give you space. The anger and frustration that pulsed within him found an outlet, a return to the only thing that brought him a twisted sense of satisfaction: murder.

As the other Ghostface, seemingly inspired by his legacy, terrorized the town, Heeseung decided to expand his reach to other towns. The chase, the thrill of the hunt, became a distraction from the echoing emptiness left by your absence. Yet, none of it compared to the rush he felt with you.

The chase, the fear in his victims' eyes, and the life draining from them were all familiar sensations, but none matched the electrifying thrill he had experienced with you. The adrenaline rush was too quick, leaving him even more frustrated.

Breaking into houses, shattering windows, and forcefully entering doors became his routine. The victims, now more vigilant and security-conscious, provided a challenge, but it only added to Heeseung's irritation. The once-satisfying acts now felt like mere inconveniences.

Yet, amidst the chaos he orchestrated, it was your avoidance that annoyed him the most. His thoughts often circled back to you, wondering why you resisted him. But Heeseung was patient, confident that you would come back to him when you were ready. In the twisted game he played, he reveled in the idea that you were the ultimate prize, and he would wait for you, no matter how long it took.

Your POV:

The living room was cloaked in the soft glow of the television, casting a warm ambience across the room. Your little brother was off with his friends, and your mother was at work, leaving you alone with the flickering images on the screen. The news report unfolded the grim tale of the ongoing murders in the town, and the recent revelation that there were now two Ghostfaces haunting the community.

You sat on the couch, your gaze fixed on the television, absorbing every detail. The news broadcast showcased a video feed capturing both Ghostfaces in action. One of them stood in the clear, the camera capturing the entirety of his menacing presence. Dressed in a black cloak, a twisted white mask concealed his identity, and a blood-stained knife gleamed menacingly in his hand as he brazenly entered a house with a chilling lack of remorse.

The other Ghostface remained elusive, shrouded in darkness. Only the stark white of his mask and the glint of his knife were discernible. As the camera focused on him, a sinister head tilt added an eerie touch to his enigmatic presence. The screen abruptly went dark, as if the Ghostface had severed the connection with a swift, calculated move.

"The police has stated that the evidence is pointing that the right one is the original Ghostface because of his tendencies, proving that Kim Beomseok was indeed innocent and just a pawn in his game," the newswoman declared, her voice delivering the weighty verdict. A sigh escaped your lips, acknowledging the familiarity of Heeseung's distinctive traits.

"The real Ghostface is still out there, and he has an accomplice. We advise people to set a curfew and lock your doors and windows tight," the news woman continued, her words an ominous warning that echoed through the room.

As the news segued into weather updates, you took a moment to exhale the tension that had gripped you.

As the disconcerting reality settled, your phone pierced the silence with an unknown caller. A frown creased your forehead as you scrunched your nose in distaste, swiftly ending the call. You rose, moving toward the television, the haunting images of the Ghostfaces still fresh in your mind. With a click, you turned off the TV, leaving the room in profound darkness.

Navigating through the obscurity, you made your way to the kitchen. Refusing to turn on the lights, you reached for a kitchen knife, a cold metal reassurance in your hand. Seated on a barstool, you waited in the inky silence.

A persistent ring pierced the quietude, emanating from your phone, held tightly in your grasp. As the call persisted, you let it ring, the vibration against your palm a rhythmic reminder of impending danger. Finally, with a stoic resolve, you answered, the chill in your voice unmistakable.

"Hello," you uttered, devoid of emotion, bracing for the encounter with the dark voice on the other end. The subtle distortion revealed the use of a voice changer, heightening the malevolence of the conversation.

"Hello, Y/N," the voice responded, a sinister greeting that sent a shiver down your spine. "Hello, Ghostface, or should I say fake Ghostface?" you retorted, a flicker of defiance in your tone.

"Clever, aren't you? I can see why you beat the master," the voice acknowledged, "Master?" you uttered.

"Yes, master. I admire him so much, you know? When he first started killing, I was appalled. But now? I see why he likes this career," the voice confessed, unveiling a twisted admiration for the chaos that had gripped the town.

"That's disgusting," you spat out, a visceral reaction to the perverse admiration for a killer. "Hm, I suppose so. But I don't really care what you think. Now that I have proven myself worthy as a killer, I wanted to see what the deal with you was," the voice continued, unapologetic in its admission.

As the unsettling conversation unfolded, the voice delved into a sinister curiosity about your resilience against Ghostface's attacks. "Why couldn't he kill you, what's so special about you?" the voice probed, drawing out a chilling anticipation.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself, asshole?" you retorted. The voice responded with a laugh. "You know, I think I will accept that proposition happily. Here I come, bitch," the voice declared before abruptly ending the call. The air thickened with impending danger, and in the shadows, you braced yourself for the approaching storm, armed with nothing but a kitchen knife and a heart hardened.

A crash shattered the stillness, drawing your attention to the source of the disturbance. The garden chair outside had been hurled into the room, breaking the window. With a blink, the ominous silhouette of Ghostface materialized in the hallway, a figure you instinctively knew wasn't Heeseung. Dread coiled in your stomach, a chilling realization that terrorized you.

This Ghostface was different, shorter and less imposing than Heeseung. The masked intruder charged toward you, a gleaming knife in hand, and quick thinking became your ally.

With a swift motion, you leaped onto the kitchen counter, rolled to the other side, and seized the faucet. A torrent of water erupted, drenching Ghostface. Choking and gurgling sounds punctuated the air as he struggled against the unexpected assault. You turned off the water, before you darted into the living room.

Jumping over the couch, you retrieved the gun stowed beneath it, a precautionary measure your mother had taken. You aimed the gun, and fired. The bullet found its mark, and Ghostface howled in pain, an unfamiliar vulnerability beneath the mask.

As you stood, rounding the couch, you stared down at the wounded assailant. "Is that your best? Come on," you taunted, kicking away the knife that had posed a lethal threat.

Ghostface's gaze bore into yours before he lunged, toppling you to the ground. Pain reverberated through your head as it collided with the floor. The masked intruder mounted you, hands closing around your throat. Panic surged, but you fought back, grappling with his wrists, desperately trying to pry him off.

"You bitch!" Ghostface spat, the voice changer momentarily silent, revealing a clear, angered voice. A punch landed on your face, pain blossoming as the assault continued. In the struggle, you glimpsed the kitchen knife near your leg. An opportunity for self-defense emerged, and you seized it without hesitation, driving the blade into Ghostface's back.

His scream echoed through the room as he released his grip. You kicked him away, scrambling to a safe distance. Blood stained the floor, a testament to the violence that had unfolded. Ghostface, weakened and desperate, retreated through the back door, leaving a crimson trail in his wake.

Gasping for breath, you clutched your phone, dialing the police. In the aftermath of the struggle, you summoned the courage to make an unexpected call. Heeseung's voice, warm and familiar, filled your ears. "Hello? Angel?" he greeted.

"Heeseung... he came. Ghostface came," you uttered, your voice strained and hoarse. "Shit. I'm coming, just hang on," Heeseung's determined response resonated through the line. The door slammed shut, signaling his departure.

"I beat him. He called me and broke in. And I fought against him," you whispered. "Good, good. I'm so proud of you, baby," Heeseung reassured, his words a soothing balm in the aftermath of the storm.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The street outside your house was a tableau of flashing lights and uniformed officers, a reminder of the recent chaos. Sitting on the doorstep, you stared into the scene. However, a ray of relief pierced through the gloom as Heeseung came sprinting toward you.

His presence, a beacon of comfort, ignited a rush of happiness within you. Without a second thought, you leaped into his arms, seeking solace in his embrace. Tears flowed freely as Heeseung held you close, his arms a haven that shielded you. He rubbed your back soothingly, whispering words of reassurance.

As your cries subsided, Heeseung gently pulled back, his gaze scanning your face. Anguish flickered in his eyes as he beheld the bruises and the haunting marks around your throat. "He did this?" Heeseung questioned, a simmering anger beneath his words. You could only nod in response.

Suddenly, Heeseung scooped you up in a bridal embrace, determination etched across his features. "Heeseung! What are you doing?" you protested, clinging to his neck. "Taking you with me. No way I'm leaving you alone with him running around," he declared, his voice laced with protective fervor. Concern for your safety outweighed all other considerations.

"What about my mom and brother?" you inquired. "They have the police. I only care about your safety," Heeseung asserted. "Heeseung!" you pleaded, a mix of desperation and loyalty.

"What? It's the truth," he responded. "They are my family!" you insisted. After a moment, he relented, "Alright, just let me have you now." With a resigned sigh, you agreed.

Upon reaching Heeseung's house, weariness clung to you like a heavy shroud, as he guided you to his bedroom, gently laying you down. You looked up at him, the exhaustion apparent in your eyes. Heeseung settled beside you, drawing you into an intimate embrace. "I'm here now, angel," he whispered, his words a tender promise of protection.

As he held you close, the weight of the night's events settled on Heeseung's shoulders. The realization that the other Ghostface had dared to touch you, to harm you, ignited a storm of rage within him. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of his emotions. His eyes, once gentle, now burned with a fierce hatred and anger.

A possessive fervor took hold of Heeseung as he held you close, not leaving even the slightest room for air to pass between you. His arms wrapped around you like an impenetrable shield, a silent declaration that he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. The rage within him was a primal force, fueled by the audacity of someone else daring to harm what belonged to him.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in Heeseung's bedroom. As you stirred from your slumber, the remnants of sleep clinging to your consciousness, you found the bed beside you empty. A quick scan of the room revealed no sign of Heeseung. The only evidence of his presence was the lingering scent of his cologne on the sheets.

With a yawn, you shuffled out of the bedroom, following the enticing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. Descending the stairs, you found Heeseung in the kitchen, effortlessly moving between stove and counterto.

"Good morning, baby," he greeted you with a warm smile, his attention momentarily diverted from the sizzling pan.

"Morning," you mumbled, still half in a dream, and made your way to the table. The aroma of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, enticing you to partake in the morning feast.

After a satisfying breakfast, Heeseung trailed besides you as you made your way to school. His hoodie enveloped you in its warmth, and the oversized sweatpants added a touch of casual comfort.

Entering the school grounds, the attention directed at you was palpable. Whispers and glances followed your every step, the events of the previous night etched into the collective consciousness of your peers. Heeseung's proximity only intensified the scrutiny, and you couldn't escape the awareness of being the center of attention.

Reaching your locker, Heeseung leaned casually against the row of lockers, his arm sliding around you. You retrieved your books, the cool metal of the locker a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. The hallway buzzed with the muted sounds of conversation, but in that moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

As the first class commenced, you found yourself alone, the comforting presence of Heeseung absent from your side. However, the second class brought a familiar face. Taehyung joined you, though something seemed off. His usually vibrant demeanor was replaced by a subtle shadow of unease.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. Taehyung glanced at you, attempting to muster a reassuring smile. "Me? I'm fine, totally fine," he replied, but the words seemed to lack conviction. Opting not to press further, you turned your attention to the board, though a lingering worry for your friend remained in the back of your mind.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The school halls were mostly deserted, the echo of chatter and laughter fading as you walked towards the bustling cafeteria. Your steps were purposeful, the anticipation of meeting Heeseung pulling you forward. The usual hustle and bustle of students had already subsided, the majority having rushed ahead to the cafeteria while you were held back by a teacher, discussing assignments and grades.

The silence enveloped you as you neared the cafeteria, the muted sounds of your own footsteps echoing through the corridor.

However, before you could reach the bustling cafeteria, you were abruptly halted. The sudden impact against the cold wall sent a jolt through you, and you found yourself face to face with a group of popular girls from the school. Led by Yeowang, their accusatory stares bore into you.

"You think you are so mighty, don't you? Taking Heeseung for yourself?!" Yeowang accused, her tone dripping with venom. Confusion furrowed your brow as you attempted to make sense of the unwarranted confrontation. "What are you talking about?" you questioned.

"You know exactly what she's talking about!" Jiwoo chimed in, her expression equally accusatory. Yeowang, the self-proclaimed leader, sneered at you. "What's even so special about you, huh? You survived two killers, oh, big deal. I can do that with a hand tied around my back!"

Annoyance welled up within you, and you retorted, "Then why don't you try it, huh? Try not being murdered!" With a defiant push, you attempted to distance yourself from the confrontation.

In response, Yeowang's rage peaked, and she raised her hand, ready to strike you. However, before the blow could land, a strong grip clasped around her wrist, halting the impending assault. Heeseung stood there, a storm brewing in his eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" Heeseung's voice was deceptively calm, a dangerous edge underscoring his words. "Heeseung! I—I... it's not what you think! Uh, Y/n pushed me, and I simply wanted to go against her in self-defense!" Yeowang stuttered in her attempt to justify her actions, but Heeseung's glare pierced through her excuses. "Really? I thought you were better than that," he remarked, releasing her wrist.

"Now, I'm going to be nice and ignore the fact that you were hurting Y/N. Now go before I change my mind," he commanded, and the girls scattered, leaving you standing there in shock.

As the commotion subsided, Heeseung turned to you, his gaze softening. He came in front of you, looking you over with concern. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with an underlying intensity.

"Yes, I'm fine," you responded, still processing the unexpected turn of events, grateful for Heeseung's timely intervention.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The midday sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on the bustling scene within. Animated conversations echoed off the walls, punctuated by the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioner. The air was alive with the energy of students engrossed in various discussions and activities.

Seated at your desk, you attempted to immerse yourself in the lesson, the teacher's voice a constant presence in the background. However, a fatigue gradually crept over you, shrouding your senses in a hazy fog. Desperate to shake off the encroaching drowsiness, you blinked repeatedly, but each blink seemed to weigh heavier on your eyelids.

As you struggled to maintain focus, the ambient noise surrounding you took on an underwater quality. Conversations became muffled, as if distorted by an unseen force. Your vision blurred, and the edges of your consciousness began to dissolve into an indistinct haze. Fingers twitched involuntarily, a subtle tremor that hinted at the overwhelming weariness settling into your bones. Someone in the distance called your name, the words reaching you like a distant echo, detached and surreal.

The world around you seemed to fade, and a sense of weightlessness accompanied the descent into the beckoning darkness.

And then, like the closing of heavy curtains, everything collapsed, and you surrendered to the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.

In that silent realm of blackness, time seemed to hold its breath. There were no whispers of conversation, no distant echoes. Only the profound stillness of an unconscious mind.

As your eyes fluttered open, the sterile environment of the nurse's office came into focus. The soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the antiseptic scent in the air signaled your departure from the realm of unconsciousness. Confusion clouded your thoughts momentarily, and you glanced around, realizing you were lying on the medical bed.

The nurse, a calming presence in the room, sat on a nearby chair and noticed you had woken up. "Hello, dear. You caused quite a commotion," she said with a gentle smile. "I did?" Her response was a nod, and a blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. "Oh..." you mumbled in response.

Offering reassurance, the nurse continued, "It's alright. Your boyfriend brought you here." She handed you a cup of juice, and you sipped it slowly. "My boyfriend?" you echoed in surprise. "Yes, he's sitting right outside," she replied, gesturing toward the waiting area. "Now, you've got to be more careful with your health. I would rather not panic seeing you lifeless in a boy's arms," she added with a chuckle before returning to her duties at the computer.

With a nod of acknowledgment, you finished the juice, tossed the empty cup into the trash, and made your way out of the nurse's office. Heeseung was sitting in the waiting area, and you couldn't help but wonder why he had taken the time to be there for you. "What are you doing here?" you questioned, genuinely curious.

Heeseung stood up, his eyes meeting yours as he came to your side immediately. "Waiting for you," he responded, slipping a warm hand around your waist. A genuine smile played on his lips as he guided you back, and you felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach. "You didn't need to do that," you insisted softly.

"I wanted to," he replied, the sincerity evident in his gaze. His smile, directed solely at you, held a rare genuineness that made you feel special.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The days rolled on, and a fragile sense of normalcy returned. Heeseung, reassured by the absence of the other Ghostface's threat, let his guard down. The watchful eyes of the police gave a semblance of security to the neighborhood, and you gradually began to resume a routine.

However, the peace you found at home sharply contrasted with the ongoing trials at school. The popular girls, harboring resentment, made your life difficult. Yeowang, reached new lows, and took pleasure in subtle but malicious acts when Heeseung or any of his friends weren't around. She denied her involvement even when confronted, weaving intricate lies with a practiced ease.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

You entered your bedroom after a long day when you noticed an unexpected arrangement on your bed. A bouquet of red, white, and blue roses intertwined with each other, creating a harmonious blend of colors, alongside a box of chocolates, awaited your attention. A simple blue wrapping adorned with a pristine white bow encased a mysterious gift.

The floral fragrance filled the air as you lifted the bouquet, appreciating the delicate beauty of each bloom. Satisfied, you set the flowers aside and turned your attention to the box of chocolates. To your delight, it contained your favorite type.

Your curiosity piqued further as you unwrapped the main gift, revealing a sleek black butterfly knife adorned with golden designs. The handles, featured elegant white angel wings. Eager to explore its intricacies, you attempted a playful flick, only to fumble and drop it onto your bed. "Ow!" you exclaimed, shaking off the momentary sting.

Recovering swiftly, you spotted a note at the bottom of the gift. Retrieving it, you read the words inscribed: "For my angel, love Heeseung." A smile played on your lips at the gesture.

Grateful for the unexpected present, you promptly reached for your phone to express your appreciation. "Thank you for the gifts; I loved them. And i will not ask how you got them in," you messaged Heeseung.

Almost instantaneously, his reply arrived, "You're welcome, princess. And don't worry. I will teach you how to use it." His words sparked a conversation that extended into the night. As you exchanged messages, the hour grew late, prompting you to bid Heeseung a good night. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Heeseung," you typed. His response, "Good night, angel. Make sure to lock your windows," came promptly. Following his advice, you secured the windows before settling into bed.

A new message from Heeseung flashed on your screen, simply stating, "Good girl." You gulped, the message sent a subtle thrill down your spine. A peculiar warmth, a delightful tickle, settled in your stomach as you read those two simple words.

You glanced toward the window, half-expecting to find something beyond the glass. The room was dimly lit, shadows playing on the walls, and the soft glow of the moonlight casting a gentle ambiance.

With a hint of curiosity, you studied the windows, half-expecting it to reveal a mysterious figure with a playful presence. The night air outside was still, and the surroundings seemed undisturbed. Yet, the lingering echo of "Good girl" resonated in your mind, creating an air of suspense that you found oddly thrilling.

Taking a deep breath, you shook off the imaginary tension, and changed into comfortable pajamas, sliding under the covers with the butterfly knife on your nightstand. Examining it closely, you noticed the intricately carved initials of your name and Heeseung's on the handles. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. The unexpected yet incredibly thoughtful touch sent a rush of warmth through you, a gentle smile played on your lips as you marveled at the personalized detail. With a satisfied sigh, you carefully placed it back on the nightstand.

The room dimmed as you turned off the lights, and you layed in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

In the unsettling ebb and flow of high school dynamics, the once vibrant halls of the school now seemed shadowed by the undercurrents of hostility. Every step felt like a careful dance to avoid the traps set by the popular girls. Despite Heeseung's protective presence, their relentless efforts to undermine you continued.

On top of that Taehyung's behavior grew increasingly intrusive, his advances becoming more pronounced in class and the halls. His proximity became uncomfortable, and the boundary between friendliness and invasion blurred.

His persistence in getting close to you prompted a growing sense of unease. The lingering feeling of being watched whenever he was nearby compelled you to take measures to avoid him altogether. The hallways became a maze where you strategically maneuvered to sidestep encounters with Taehyung, who seemed determined to bridge a gap that you were intent on widening.

Despite your efforts to dodge him, Taehyung's persistence continued. Another time, in the empty school hallway, he cornered you near the lockers. "You know, you're pretty when you're mad," he commented.

Feeling trapped, you shot him a glare. "Enough, Taehyung. I'm not interested, and your comments are not welcome. Back off."

His giggles echoed as you walked away, determined to distance yourself from hiseerie behavior.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As the days unfolded, you couldn't shake the lingering sense that, despite the calm on the surface, there were storm clouds gathering on the horizon, threatening to disrupt the fragile peace you desperately sought.

The news continued to broadcast the chilling saga of the two Ghostfaces haunting the town. The police, growing more frustrated by the escalating body count, struggled to apprehend the elusive killers. Each new report fueled the anxiety that had settled over the community.

You found yourself caught in the relentless grip of fear once again, the shadow of Ghostfaces looming larger than ever. The unpredictable nature of his attacks had everyone on edge, and you couldn't shake the feeling that the danger was closing in.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was adapting to the heightened scrutiny and frustration of the police. When he wore the Ghostface costume, he became more cautious, stalking his victims for extended periods before making his move. The cat-and-mouse game between him and the authorities intensified, a dangerous dance in the moonlit shadows.

The other Ghostface seemed to be taking a page from Heeseung's book, growing more careful and methodical in his approach. However, unlike Heeseung's relatively clean crime scenes, this Ghostface left behind a gruesome trail of blood. The brutality escalated, leaving a mark that horrified even the most seasoned investigators.

One night, a particularly disturbing message written in blood on a crime scene wall sent shivers down your spine: "For you, Ghostface." The implication was clear, and it left you feeling creeped out. Heeseung, upon seeing this gruesome display, was impressed by the audacity.

But had the other Ghostface not gone after you, Heeseung might have entertained the idea of an unholy alliance, a partnership in chaos. But now, with the line crossed, Heeseung's desire for revenge burned bright. This town, in his eyes, had room for only one killer, and the other Ghostface had just signed his own death warrant.

Friday Night:

In the opulent confines of Yeowang's mansion, a sleepover took place, an event initiated by the absence of Yeowang's parents for the weekend, her closest friends—Hyo-jin, Yoo-mi, Hayeong, and Jiwoo was present. The night started late, as the girls gathered in the spacious living room adorned with lavish furnishings. The girls huddled on the plush sofa, draped in cozy blankets, their laughter echoing against the opulent walls. A large flat-screen TV, mounted like a work of art, illuminated the room, showcasing the latest news broadcast featuring the ongoing Ghostface killings and investigations.

As they bantered and gossiped, Jiwoo, known for her audacious comments, couldn't help but interject with her own peculiar observation. "Ghostface is hot, actually," she declared, earning incredulous looks from the others. Hayeong, ever the voice of reason, promptly dismissed the notion. "Okay first of all, that's a killer. Second, you have a boyfriend, and besides, he's masked! You don't even know how he looks!"

"So? I can see it," Jiwoo retorted, undeterred. Hyo-jin, more observant than the rest, interjected, " There are two Ghostfaces. Which one is hotter?"

The room fell momentarily silent as the girls processed this, their eyes fixated on the TV where two distinct images of the masked killers were displayed. Jiwoo, with her usual nonchalant demeanor, broke the silence. "Oh…both, I guess? I mean, look at them!" she exclaimed, pointing animatedly at the screen.

"You are crazy," Hyo-jin remarked, her voice tinged with disbelief. Unbeknownst to the others, Yeowang found herself oddly conflicted, silently acknowledging Jiwoo's point but reluctant to admit that she, too, felt an inexplicable allure to the enigmatic figures behind the masks.

The mood took a sharp turn when Hayeong, attempting to shift the conversation, brought up your name that immediately ignited Yeowang's fury. "I can't believe that Y/N is the only one who survived both of them," she stated, a heavy silence enveloping the room. Yeowang's reaction was visceral—her anger palpable, manifested by the shattering of a vase against the wall.

"That whore does not deserve it!" Yeowang's scream reverberated through the expansive mansion. "She survived two killers and suddenly got famous! She got Heeseung! It's unfair! What does she have that I don't?!" Yeowang's accusatory glare swept across the room, her friends taken aback by the sudden outburst.

"You are in my house! You will not mention her name!" Yeowang's command echoed, punctuating the room with a tense energy. The other girls, startled and intimidated, nodded in compliance. "Got it, we will not say her name," they meekly replied, an air of discomfort settling over the once lively sleepover.

The night pressed on, and Hayeong, feeling a stifling warmth in the crowded room, decided to excuse herself. She climbed the stairs to the bathroom, her steps a subtle echo against the hushed whispers of her friends below. Her nimble fingers worked silently to ease open the window, allowing fresh air in.

As she called her boyfriend, the cool breeze that wafted in cooled her down, "Kwan, why don't you come over? I'm too bored here, and I miss you," she whispered into the phone, her voice a delicate secret. "I'll be right there, baby," Kwan's voice assured her from the other end before he hung u.

Hayeong emerged from the bathroom and, like a phantom, slipped to the dimly-lit garage. There, waiting in the shadows, was her boyfriend's car.

Closing the garage door behind her, she got into the passenger seat, and the car became a heated session as they made out. "What do you think about ditching and coming over to mine?" Kwan proposed. "Sure, let me just tell the others," Hayeong replied, sealing her fate as she returned to the oblivious gathering in the living room.

She informed her friends of her departure, and Yeowang's dismissive response lingered in the air like an unspoken omen.

Hayeong retrieved her belongings and, with a roll of her eyes, made her way back to the secluded garage.

As she settled into the car, the illusion of safety shattered, she turned to face her boyfriend, only for her face to twist into sheer horror at the sight of his lifeless form. Panic set in, and before she could scream, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling any sound.

The rearview mirror reflected the ghostly visage of a white mask, and the glint of a knife spelled impending doom. A searing pain erupted in her stomach. The garbled scream of her pain was stifled as the hand tightened its grip, and though she fought against the assailant's grip, her strength waned.

Disoriented and weakened, Hayeong clawed her way out of the car, her hands leaving smears of blood on the cold concrete floor. Ghostface emerged from the backseat, his movements deliberate and silent, carefully closing the car door behind him. The shadows draped him in an impenetrable cloak as he advanced, following the crimson trail left by Hayeong.

With calculated precision, Ghostface struck again, the knife finding its mark in Hayeong's back. Her weak cries echoed in the garage, a desperate plea for mercy. She twisted her body on the ground, lying on her back, staring up at Ghostface, she saw only the impassive mask that hid the face of her killer.

Each breath she took seemed to expel the last vestiges of life, accompanied by the gasping for breath as blood bubbled from her mouth.

Lying on the garage floor, Hayeong's gaze fixed on the unforgiving concrete ceiling. Blood continued to spill, and the last vestiges of life slipped away. Ghostface, unaffected by her suffering, simply stared down at his victim before pocketing the blood-stained knife. Then he dragged Hayeong's lifeless form with him, leaving behind the scene of horror in the quiet garage.

The encompassing darkness welcomed him as he stuffed the corpses in the trunk of the car before leaving the garage to guard its grisly secret, the echoes of Hayeong and her boyfriend's final moments lingering in the air.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The sleepover had transformed into a scene of collective ennui, the girls sprawled across the living room, eyes glued to the blaring horror movie on the screen. The volume was cranked up to its maximum, attempting to infuse some excitement into the lackluster atmosphere. Jiwoo, the embodiment of impatience, couldn't contain her discontent. "I'm bored!" she declared, punctuating her statement with an animated kick of her feet, reminiscent of a spoiled child. Yoo-mi, joining the chorus of dissatisfaction, drawled, "Me toooo," her words elongated in a languid manner. Hyo-jin, the silent participant, simply nodded in agreement.

In the midst of this collective restlessness, Yeowang, always quick with a plan, had an idea to salvage the night. "Why don't I invite Kwangsun and Joonwoo?" she suggested, eyeing an opportunity to inject some life into the gathering. Jiwoo, seizing the chance to involve her boyfriend, Minho, eagerly chimed in, "Oh! Can I invite Minho then?" Yoo-mi, with a hint of skepticism, interjected, "You're just gonna fuck him!" Jiwoo, undeterred, stuck her tongue out at Yoo-mi, and Yeowang, with a roll of her eyes, relented, "Yeah, sure, invite him too."

Overjoyed, Jiwoo leaped to her feet, celebrating the approved invitation. "You mean it??" she questioned, to which Yeowang simply nodded in affirmation. "Yes!" Jiwoo exclaimed, immediately reaching for her phone to call Minho. Concurrently, Yeowang composed messages to Kwangsun and Joonwoo, both of whom promptly confirmed their attendance.

As the clock edged towards 1 AM, signaling the arrival of the anticipated guests, a resonant doorbell rang through the apartment. Hyo-jin, assigned the role of the door opener, took a moment to peek through the peephole, ensuring that it was indeed the boys behind the door.

The door swung open, revealing Kwangsun, Joonwoo, and Minho, boisterous and full of energy. They entered the room with a flourish, bearing beer and loud shouts, injecting a burst of life into the previously lethargic atmosphere. Jiwoo, unable to contain her excitement, screeched Minho's name and leaped into his waiting arms.

The group settled on the couch, drinks in hand, and laughter filling the air. Amidst the lively atmosphere, Hyo-jin rose from her seat with the announcement, "I'm going out for a smoke." She strolled toward the front door, and closing it behind her, leaving the vibrant scene inside.

In the solitary darkness outside, she retrieved a cigarette, her fingers fumbling to find the elusive lighter. "Where is it… I knew I brought it," she mumbled, the soft glow of her phone's torch revealing her determined search. The night air wrapped around her like a shroud as she continued her quest.

A sudden sound shattered the quiet, causing Hyo-jin to startle. Swiftly, she raised her phone, its light piercing the darkness as she scanned her surroundings. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice echoing into the silent night. The beam of her torch revealed a rogue cat, its eyes glinting in the light. "Oh, it's just you," she muttered, attempting to coax the feline closer. However, the cat, seemingly spooked, scurried away from her. "Alright, fuck you then," Hyo-jin grumbled, standing up in mild annoyance.

Unbeknownst to her, Ghostface materialized in the shadows behind her, his ominous figure concealed by the night, as he approached silently. In one fluid motion, he drew a knife, it`s blade gleaming ominously. Without a sound, he effortlessly slit Hyo-jin's throat, a crimson river staining the quiet night.

Hyo-jin's eyes widened in an involuntary response to the sudden, searing pain. The cigarette that once dangled between her lips fell with a gentle thud to the cold ground.

Her body, suspended in that surreal moment between life and death, crumpled forward.

Ghostface stood over his lifeless victim, a silent spectator to the masterpiece he had orchestrated. The night seemed to hold its breath as he lingered momentarily, the mask concealing any hint of emotion. The cool breeze whispered through the darkness, indifferent to the gruesome scene playing out beneath its veil.

With an eerie calmness, Ghostface began his next calculated move. He crouched beside Hyo-jin's motionless body, drawing her into the shadows with a predatory grace. The crimson trail she left behind became a haunting testament to the brutality that had transpired in that quiet space.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The living room buzzed with the flickering glow of the TV as the horror movie unfolded its spine-chilling narrative. The remaining group sat together, the pale glow casting shadows across their faces.

As the credits rolled, someone in the group suggested putting on another horror movie. The group agreed, and the atmosphere in the room became tense once again. Just then, Jiwoo suddenly stood up, pulling Minho with her, and declared, "We are so tired, so we'll go to bed." With that, they vanished upstairs, the closing door shutting out any response from the rest of the group.

Yeowang, an observer of the unfolding events, watched Jiwoo and Minho saunter upstairs with an air of disapproval. Rolling her eyes, she leaned toward Yoo-mi, lips curling into a disdainful whisper. "What a slut," Yeowang hissed, and Yoo-mi, ever the loyal companion, nodded in agreement, their suppressed laughter mingling in the dimly lit room. The two continued their hushed commentary, exchanging snickers as they reveled in the judgment they cast.

Unbeknownst to the gossiping duo, a silent figure lingered outside the window, casting a dark shadow against the night. The clandestine observer vanished into the depths of the night as Jiwoo and Minho disappeared behind the bedroom door, leaving no trace of their presence.

In the intimate confines of the bedroom, Jiwoo and Minho layed in post bliss. Jiwoo giggled playfully, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Minho, who stretched and reluctantly got out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants. "Stayyy," Jiwoo pouted, her words laced with a playful plea. "Sorry, babe, gotta pop in the bathroom. I'll be right back," Minho assured her as he strolled out of the room.

Little did he know, the window, left ajar by Hayeong, served as an ominous entry point for the lurking Ghostface. As Minho locked the bathroom door, he remained oblivious to the impending danger. It was only when he glimpsed Ghostface's reflection in the mirror that realization struck, and a gasp escaped his lips, as he turned around to face his assailant.

Reacting swiftly, Ghostface threw a throwing knife with precision, embedding it in Minho's shoulder. His attempts to scream stifled by a punch to the face from the masked assailant. "Shit!" Minho exclaimed as he pushed Ghostface away, slamming the murderer against the wall.

Undeterred, Ghostface deftly retrieved the lodged knife from Minho's shoulder, brandishing it menacingly. In a swift, brutal motion, he thrust the blade into Minho's stomach, eliciting a guttural groan of pain. Minho staggered backward, only to trip over a bathroom stool.

He fell backward into the bathtub, the impact echoing through the small room. His head struck the surface, and the room filled with the sickening sound of the collision. Minho's eyes remained open, glossy and lifeless, as his blood pooled in the tub.

Ghostface, having completed his gruesome work in the bathroom, meticulously exited the confined space. Adjusting his cloak and straightening his posture, he entered the bedroom where Jiwoo lay peacefully unaware. A sinister silhouette against the dimly lit room, he stood over her, his chilling presence casting a shadow.

Lifting his arms, Ghostface brandished his knife, a glint of malice in his eyes. With a swift, deliberate motion, he plunged the blade into Jiwoo's stomach. A startled cry escaped her lips as she awoke to the nightmare before her. Desperation filled her as she attempted to retaliate, futile punches met by Ghostface's vice-like grip. The relentless onslaught continued, the repeated stabbings painting the once serene room in the stark hues of violence.

Leaving Jiwoo to bleed out on the bed, Ghostface, retraced his steps through the bathroom window, vanishing into the nocturnal abyss.

Meanwhile downsatirs, Yoo-mi, feeling a growing unease, ventured outside through the front door to check on Hyo-jin. Upon her return, she delivered the unsettling news, "Hey, Hyo-jin isn't outside anymore." Yeowang, quick to assume the worst, spat, "The bitch probably left us, again." Yoo-mi, concerned, muttered, "I don't know, she wouldn't leave like this."

Yeowang's sharp response echoed, "Did you just talk back to me?" Yoo-mi, intimidated but determined, defended herself, "No! No! It's just... I'm worried, you know?" Reluctantly, Yeowang conceded, "Ugh, fine," and turned her attention to the boys, "Why don't you two go out and find her?" Kwangsun, defensive, questioned, "Why us?" Yeowang, dismissive, replied, "Because you two are available, and it's cold. Now, go." With a wave of her hand, she refocused on the horror movie.

Joonwo and Kwangsun reluctantly complied, with Joonwo suggesting a strategy "You go through the backdoor, I'll go through the front door, and we'll meet in the middle." As Joonwo exited the front door, Kwangsun took the backdoor route.

In the living room, Yoo-mi sought reassurance, "You think they'll be okay?" Yeowang, unfazed, assured her, "Yeah, they'll be fine."

Meanwhile, Kwangsun navigated the darkness alone, squinting to discern any signs of Hyo-jin or Joonwo. The quietude was only interrupted by the gentle whooshing of the wind past his ear. As he scanned the sky, the moon was obscured by clouds, plunging him into deeper obscurity. Unbeknownst to him, a figure trailed silently behind him. Suddenly, a searing pain tore through Kwangsun's back, and he crumpled to the ground, the merciless kick from Ghostface intensifying his agony.

As Kwangsun prepared to scream, the moon emerged from behind the clouds, revealing the lifeless form of Joonwo sprawled in front of him. Before he could react, his hair was violently yanked back, and Ghostface swiftly slit his throat, extinguishing his life.

Ghostface, rose from his crouched position, before he reached into the folds of his cloak and retrieved a phone.

As the flash erupted, momentarily piercing the darkness, Ghostface captured the haunting image of death.

However, as swiftly as the moon had revealed the morbid scene, it withdrew behind the obscuring clouds once more. The sudden darkness provided Ghostface with the perfect cover, concealing his presence as he dragged the lifeless bodies. The muted sounds of his sinister task blended with the night, and Ghostface seamlessly disappeared into the shadows.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The night hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as Yoo-mi gazed into the darkness. Her voice cut through the silence, nervous with an escalating worry, "Okay, they haven't returned. Is this the time to panic?" Yeowang, seemingly unresponsive, rose from her seat and ascended the stairs with an air of determination. "Wait!" Yoo-mi pleaded, chasing after her.

In the dimly lit corridor, Yeowang halted outside the bedroom where Jiwoo and Minho had sought refuge. She knocked on the door only to be met with an silence from within. When no response came, Yeowang's hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door ajar. What lay beyond would etch terror into their memories.

A gut-wrenching scream erupted from Yoo-mi as the door swung open, revealing the grotesque scene within. Jiwoo's lifeless body lay sprawled across the bed, a canvas of horror painted in blood and mangled flesh. Yoo-mi staggered backward causing her to open the bathroom door, her horrified gaze shifted to the now open bathroom. There, in the unforgiving cold of the bathtub, Minho's lifeless form met her gaze. Another scream tore through the air as the grim reality of their situation became undeniable.

Distraught and overwhelmed, Yoo-mi fled down the stairs, tripping on the steps, she stumbled into the chilling embrace of the living room, her anguished cries reverberating through the desolate space.

Meanwhile, Yeowang stood frozen in the upstairs corridor, the haunting images seared into her mind. A desperate determination seized her as she rushed to her room. There, amidst the remnants of her past, she found solace in a forgotten relic—a baton adorned with hues of pink and purple, a nostalgic reminder of her gymnastics days.

Haunted by the scene she witnessed, Yeowang clutched the baton tightly, her knuckles turning white.

As she descended the staircase, a sickening scene unfolded before her eyes. Joonwo's lifeless form lay sprawled on the couch, his vacant eyes reflecting the cruel finality that had befallen him. Yoo-mi, a pitiful body on the ground, cried out in agony as blood pooled beneath her. Ghostface, loomed over her with a foot pressing her down. His attention, however, pivoted towards Yeowang, his gaze fixated on her as he swiped the blood of his knife with unnerving efficiency, his chilling laughter permeating the air.

"Welcome to the party," his voice, distorted by the chilling voice changer, sent shivers down Yeowang's spine. Desperation seized her as she clutched the baton, like an inadequate shield.

"I saved you for last," Ghostface declared with a voice distorted, before he picked up Yoo-mi only to throw her against the wall, rendering her unconscious, before turning his relentless advance towards Yeowang.

Terror gripped her as she sprinted upstairs, reaching her bedroom, she fumbled to lock the door, her trembling hands betraying the fear that gripped her. In her bedroom, she fumbled for her salvation—her phone. Panic surged through her when she realized it lay downstairs on the living room table.

A sudden shock reverberated through the door as Ghostface relentlessly sought entry. "Open the door, Yeowang," his command sliced through the air, each word dripping with sadistic pleasure.

"No!" she screamed defiantly, her trembling hands fumbling with the window latch. With a surge of courage, she swung it open, revealing a daunting drop to the pool below, a shimmering oasis in the moonlit night.

The door continued to quiver under Ghostface's relentless assault, his ominous presence closing in.

The relentless assault on the door suddenly ceased, leaving Yeowang suspended in silence. Suspicion flickered in her eyes as she cast a wary glance toward the once-quaking barrier.

Suddenly, an axe splintered through the door, hacking it down with brutal force. Yeowang's scream echoed through the room as glimpses of the menacing white mask emerged. Ghostface stared intently, his gloved hand reaching to unlock the door. Just as Yeowang prepared to leap to safety, Ghostface unleashed a primal shout, hurling a dagger that found its mark in her shoulder. The searing pain sent her crashing down, the baton slipping from her grasp.

Ghostface, a looming specter, closed in. His knife poised for the final strike, but in a desperate bid, Yeowang seized her baton, swinging it towards his masked visage. With lightning reflexes, Ghostface raised his arm, blocking the blow. The precious seconds gained allowed Yeowang to scramble to her feet, sprinting towards the window. In a daring escape, she leaped into the pool below, the cold water offering a brief respite from the nightmare.

Emerging from the water, shivering and wounded, Yeowang glanced back at the window. Ghostface was momentarily absent. Swiftly, she extracted the knife embedded in her shoulder, a cry of pain escaping her lips. With determined urgency, she clambered out of the pool, crimson tendrils diffusing into the water around her.

Fearing the masked assailant might still be lurking, Yeowang cast a desperate gaze through the window into the living room. Joonwoo's lifeless form lay undisturbed, but Yoo-mi, injured and resilient, struggled to move. Yeowang recoiled, her attention caught by the absence of the phones on the table. Panic clawed at her as she began to navigate the house, a mixture of dread and sorrow swirling within.

As she approached the front, a hidden horror awaited her. Tripping over an unseen obstacle, Yeowang tumbled to the ground. A gut-wrenching sight unfolded as she discovered the lifeless bodies of Hyo-jin and Kwangsun concealed in the bushes. Tears blurred her vision as she sprinted away, abandoning the knife in her haste.

But the escape was short-lived. Charging down the porch, Yeowang's foot snagged on something, and she plummeted forward, her head colliding with the unforgiving ground, as darkness enveloped her consciousness.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Yeowang's eyes flickered open, and a wave of disorientation washed over her as she attempted to move, only to discover the cruel reality of her situation – she was bound, trapped in the confines of her own bedroom. The haunting scene unfolded before her eyes, her friends' lifeless bodies strewn about, including Yoo-mi, who now lay still and unresponsive.

"Help! Someone! Please!" she pleaded, her desperate cries echoing in the silence. A chair creaked, drawing her attention to the shadowy figure sitting in the corner, and as her eyes adjusted, she spotted Ghostface seated in a shadowy corner. "No one is coming to save you," he declared with a cold certainty.

Desperation clawed at Yeowang's throat, and she screamed for help, her pleas echoing through the chilling silence.

"Stop screaming," Ghostface intoned, his figure slowly rising from the chair. The voice changer distorted his response, rendering it menacing and cold.

Tethered and vulnerable, she tried to appeal to the masked figure, a last-ditch effort to elicit mercy.

"Aw, that's cute. You're begging for your life," Ghostface remarked, rising from the chair with deliberate slowness. He approached Yeowang, advancing toward her with predatory intent, and crouched down, his white mask mere inches from her terror-stricken face. He scrutinized her with a sinister curiosity, reveling in the vulnerability of his captive.

"Why did you even come? I'm innocent!" Yeowang protested, her voice carrying a hint of defiance. However, Ghostface erupted in a sudden burst of anger, his distorted voice reflecting the glitched fury within him. "Innocent!?" he bellowed, standing back up and brandishing a gleaming knife. The blade pointed menacingly at Yeowang, his accusation hung heavily in the air. "You are, in fact, not innocent. You hurt what was precious to me. Your friends paid for it, and now it's your turn."

"What was precious?... Oh, you mean Y/N?!" she exclaimed, connecting the dots. Ghostface remained stoic, only intensifying the aura of menace. In a tense exchange, "Listen! It was just for fun! Just a game you kow?" Yeowang attempted to justify her actions, only to be met with Ghostface's stoic silence.

The truth, a bitter pill, surfaced—Ghostface's obsession with Y/n, was a possessive love that bordered on madness.

"Why do you even care? Didn't you try and kill her at first?" Yeowang spat, her defiance resurfacing. A hesitancy lingered in the room as she dared to pose a crucial question. "You are the first Ghostface, aren't you?" Ghostface nodded affirmatively, acknowledging his origin. "I am the first... and I care because she's mine. I own Y/N, and she owns my heart and soul. I would do anything to keep her happy," he declared, a rare glimpse into the twisted motivation that fueled his actions.

With an ominous deliberateness, Ghostface removed the clasps securing his mask, revealing the face beneath. A shockwave of horror coursed through Yeowang as recognition set in. "Heeseung?!" she screeched, attempting to recoil from the revelation. "It's been you this entire time!? But why?" she demanded, her voice a desperate plea for answers.

"You've watched enough horror movies, Yeowang, to know there's always motives. Mine is just personal," Heeseung uttered, his voice devoid of remorse.

With an almost mechanical precision, Heeseung adorned the Ghostface mask once again. The chilling transformation marked the end of any semblance of humanity, like a switch flipped between the person behind the mask and the ruthless harbinger of terror. The room became a theater of agony as Ghostface thrust the knife into Yeowang's chest, cruelly twisting it for maximum torment before extracting it with a grisly finality. Yeowang's agonized screams pierced the air, echoing in the chamber of death. Desperation gripped her as she struggled to draw breath, yet the encroaching numbness signaled the approach of death.

"Party's over," Ghostface declared. The last flicker of Yeowang's life bore witness to the white mask, as she accepted death.

In the aftermath, Ghostface lingered, a silent witness to the massacre of death he had orchestrated. With a swift, practiced motion, he swiped his knife, cleansing the blood before he departed the room with a purposeful stride, descending into the shadows.

Leaving the house behind, Ghostface embarked on a solitary journey into the night.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As you sat on the couch, playing with your brother by your side, the tranquility of the day was shattered by the intrusive news spreading like wildfire throughout the city. The television broadcasted the shocking report, detailing the gruesome massacre that had occurred during the sleepover.

The once-grand mansion was now a crime scene, adorned with police tape that crisscrossed the entire property, and law enforcement vehicles surrounded the premises. Your eyes were fixed on the television screen, shock etched across your face as the news reporter stood in front of the crime scene.

"We have received reports that the victims have been identified as Kang Hyo-jin, Shin Jiwoo, Kang Minho, Bong Kwangsun, Kim Junwoo, Choi Hayeong, Park Yoo-mi, Jung Kwan, and Jeon Yeowang," the reporter solemnly announced, the weight of each name resonating in the air. The police inspector, Do-shik, stood by her side, his weary expression a testament to the magnitude of the tragedy.

"We have reason to believe that this is the work of our first Ghostface, by the pattern he executed in this mindless slaughter," Do-shik disclosed, his words sending a chill down your spine. The news reporter pressed for answers about the actions being taken for the grieving families, and Do-shik, burdened by the responsibility, assured justice and respect for the victims.

As the conversation continued, the realization that Heeseung, had committed these heinous acts sank in. The numbness enveloped you, making it difficult to comprehend the gravity of the situation. You couldn't fathom how he managed to execute such a massacre in a single night without being apprehended.

"Y/N?" Your brother's voice broke through your reverie, and you felt the physical sensation of being shaken. "Wha-?" you mumbled, your mind struggling to process the information. "Are you okay? You didn't answer me," he inquired, concern etched on his face. "Yeah, yeah. I'm okay," you responded.

"I need to get some air," you declared, rising from the couch and leaving the house without uttering another word. The weight of the revelations pressed down on you as you stepped into the open air.

The streets stretched before you as you navigated through the town, each step resonating with the echo of your conflicted emotions. Eventually the sunlight began to wane, casting long shadows across the pavement, and the familiar sights of the town started to transform under the softening hues of dusk.

As you meandered through the streets, you found yourself drawn to a nearby park. The familiar landscape offered a temporary refuge, and you made a spontaneous decision to linger. You gravitated towards a swing set, the rhythmic creaking accompanying the subtle sounds of nature.

Time seemed to blur as you swung back and forth, the gentle breeze carrying whispers of the day.

As the day transitioned into evening, you checked your phone to find it was already 8PM. A notification from your mom appeared, a reminder that cut through the quiet of the moment. She requested you to stop by the grocery store if you had time. The responsibility tugged at your thoughts, and you agreed to her request, assuring her that you would take care of the groceries.

Leaving the swing set behind, you walked away from the park, your surroundings bathed in the amber glow of streetlights beginning to flicker to life. The town retained a semblance of activity; a few people strolled on the sidewalks, and cars passed by intermittently.

Deep in contemplation, you traversed the familiar routes until, almost unconsciously, your steps led you to Heeseung's house in the outskirts of town. Heeseung, an adult living alone, bore the scars of a fractured family, his mother absent, and his father, a figure you suspected was better off beneath the earth.

His residence, an isolated abode, stood silent against the backdrop of the night. You knocked, and the hush persisted for a moment, fostering the fleeting notion that perhaps he wasn't home. Just as the doubt crept in, the shuffling of feet reached your ears, and the door swung open to reveal Heeseung. The dampness in his hair suggested a recent shower, and the grin on his face faded into a look of surprise when he noticed your serious expression.

"Angel," he greeted, the warmth in his voice attempting to breach the solemn atmosphere. "Can we talk?" you asked, your tone cutting through the casual air. Heeseung's surprise deepened, and he nodded, inviting you in. The door closed behind you, shutting out the outside world, and you were met with the soft patter of paws reaching your ears, and you saw Dongsik, Heeseung's cat, racing towards you. You knelt down, lifting the feline into your arms.

Settling in the living room, you cradled Dongsik in your lap, stroking his fur. The weight of the conversation hung in the air as you mustered the courage to address the chilling reality. "Heeseung… I saw the news," you began, your voice steady.

"You did not need to kill them," you asserted, hoping for a flicker of remorse in Heeseung's gaze. However, his eyes bore no trace of regret. "They deserved it. They hurt you, and I hurt them back," he stated, his nonchalant demeanor sending a chill down your spine.

Rising from his seated position, Heeseung advanced towards you, his movements fluid yet purposeful. As he closed the distance, his hand gently cradled your chin, tilting your head upward. The touch was possessive, his fingers warm against your skin, yet there was an underlying intensity that betrayed the dark determination within him.

In that moment, his eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a darker, inscrutable depth.

"I made them regret every breathing the same air as you," he murmured, the words laden with a sinister satisfaction. His voice, usually a source of reassurance, now carried an unsettling edge. His gaze traced a path across your face, studying each contour as if searching for a reaction.

Caught in the intensity of his gaze, you couldn't help but gulp, the sound echoing in the charged silence. His eyes, fixated on your lips, followed the subtle movement as your tongue moistened them.

But you couldn't let the gravity of his actions escape scrutiny. Stepping back, you placed Dongsik on the ground and distanced yourself. "I do not want you to proceed with this," you implored, your voice tinged with urgency. "What if you get caught? Have you ever thought about that?" you questioned, your concern etched on your face. Heeseung, however, dismissed your fears with unwavering confidence. "I won't get caught. Trust me. I'm careful."

The proximity of his hands, once stained with the blood of others, triggered a sense of unease. "No, Heeseung, I can't do this now," you declared, your voice faltering. "I can't continue doing this."

"What?" Heeseung asked, his surprise mirroring the gravity of your words. "This, whatever we have? This? It's over!" you cried out, your emotions spilling over. Heeseung's gaze narrowed, the intensity of his feelings clashing with the sudden turn of events. "Angel, you can't—" he began, but you cut him off.

"You won't let me break up, but I can't bear you killing people!" you exclaimed, your words echoing in the room. The reality of grieving families planning funerals weighed heavily on your conscience. "You have let out a curse on this town, and for what? What is your motive, Heeseung? Why do you murder?" you demanded, your frustration boiling over.

"It's none of your business!" Heeseung retorted, his defensive stance highlighting the growing tension. "So you don't trust me? Is that it?" you questioned, the hurt evident in your eyes. "No, that's not it, baby, please," Heeseung pleaded, attempting to reach for you. However, you recoiled, creating a physical and emotional distance. "No, that's exactly what it is, isn't it? How can I trust you when you don't even trust me?" you articulated.

"A murderer kills because they are crazy, right? How do I know that you won`t kill me eventually?" you posed the unnerving question, the gravity of the situation casting a shadow over the room. "Yeah, this is all a game for you, isn't it? Trick me, then hurt me, and finish me off, right?" A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clutched your hair in frustration.

"God, I wish you had just killed me!" you shouted, the anguish and frustration consuming you. With those words hanging in the air, you ran out the door, tears streaming down your face. "Y/N!" Heeseung shouted, attempting to chase after you. The rush of adrenaline urged you forward as you sprinted towards the more populated downtown, seeking solace in the anonymity of the bustling streets.

The relentless torrent of tears blurred your vision as you ran, the world a distorted mosaic of shadows and hazy streetlights. The weight on your chest felt unbearable, forcing you to gasp for breath as you sought refuge. The grocery store loomed ahead, a dimly lit sanctuary promising a momentary escape from the turmoil.

Leaning against the cool exterior wall of the store, you heaved deep breaths, each inhalation a struggle against the emotional storm that raged within. You swiped away your tears before you walked into the store. The door swung open with a hushed chime as you entered

The interior of the store appeared almost deserted, bathed in the artificial glow of overhead lights. A half-sleeping cashier lethargically manned the register, and an employee, lost in their cleaning duties, contributed to the quiet. Only two other customers wandered the aisles, their presence barely registering in the dim atmosphere.

With the basket in hand, you moved with a mechanical precision, guided by the monotony of your music. The list from your mother directed your movements as you navigated the aisles, the rhythmic beat in your ears providing a temporary respite from the emotional whirlwind.

Little did you anticipate the impending descent into chaos. The automatic doors whispered open, and a tall figure draped in a cloak stepped inside, an aura of malevolence accompanying their entrance.

The scene unfolded with chilling swiftness. Ghostface, concealed in the ominous cloak, advanced towards the unsuspecting cashier. A gloved hand silenced desperate cries before a blade flashed, cutting through the silence and life alike. The shotgun followed suit, the explosive sound resonating through the hushed aisles as it claimed another victim.

The sudden violence ruptured the fragile tranquility, and you instinctively tore out your earbuds, alert to the nightmare unfolding around you. Panicking, you instinctively sought cover behind a freezer, heart pounding as the screams reverberated through the aisles.

Silence settled, broken only by the haunting voice that emerged. "I know you are here, Y/N. Why don't you come out and make this much easier for us both and give yourself up now?" it intoned, a cruel invitation to surrender. Determined, you pulled up your pant leg, revealing the butterfly knife Heeseung had insisted you learn to use. The blade swished open, and you crouched in the shadows.

Ghostface continued his monologue, preaching a distorted sense of purpose. You, however, were focused on survival. Moving stealthily between the aisles, you checked your phone's camera at every turn, ensuring your unseen adversary was still out of sight.

Crawling on the ground, disregarding its grime, you moved with a mix of fear and determination.

Ghostface's taunts echoed, filled with promises of a twisted sense of justice. Moving with a catlike grace, you listened intently for any sign of Ghostface. Their voice droned on, but you paid it little attention, your focus locked on survival.

The aisles of the grocery store bore witness to a gruesome scene of tragedy as you stumbled upon the lifeless bodies of the employee and another customer. Their corpses layed, eyes frozen wide in terror, faces eternally contorted in the agony of their final moments. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but draw a shaky breath as you crawled towards the fallen employee.

Carefully, you approached the employee's still form, with a delicate touch, you reached for the keys hanging from their belt. The metallic jingle seemed deafening in the heavy silence that enveloped the gruesome scene.

As you retreated to a safer spot and peered around the corner, your eyes widened. Ghostface, stood amidst the aisles, holding the shotgun with an unsettling ease. His dark cloak billowed as he surveyed the surroundings, the mask betraying no emotions.

"Y/n!" he bellowed, the deep voice echoing through the desolate store. You remained still, concealed in the shadows, refusing to yield to his demands. "This isn't funny anymore. Come out... face me, you-you bitch!" he shouted, his frustration palpable.

His tone softened suddenly, an unexpected vulnerability seeping into his words. "I need you, Y/n. I need you here," he mumbled to himself, pacing away. A perplexed expression crossed your face as you watched him retreat, his erratic behavior leaving you both bewildered and cautious.

Seizing the opportune moment, you silently made your move. Crawling towards the backdoor, you clutched the stolen keys tightly, ensuring they made no sound. Ghostface's sporadic mutterings echoed through the store as he grew more agitated.

Reaching the backdoor, you fumbled through the keys, testing each one until the lock clicked open. The metallic sound felt deafening in the oppressive quiet. As the door unlocked, you grabbed the handle, ready to make a swift exit.

"There you are!"

Your heart pounded as you turned, eyes meeting the menacing figure standing just beyond the threshold. His shotgun aimed at you, you scrambled inside, slamming the door shut. The resounding gunshot echoed in your ears, a chilling reminder of how narrowly you had evaded death.

You wasted no time locking the door, the thump on the other side signaling Ghostface's frustration. The adrenaline surged through your veins as you retreated, navigating the labyrinthine storage room with urgency. The persistent echo of Ghostface's threats spurred you forward, each step a calculated move toward survival in this ghastly game of cat and mouse.

As you sprinted through the labyrinthine storage room of the store, the dim emergency exit sign beckoned you towards safety. Fingers trembling, you pushed the door open and burst into the cool night air. Panic set in as you dialed the police, the desperate plea in your voice cutting through the darkness.

"Miss, what can i help you with," the calm voice on the other end asked. " He's chasing after me! Ghostface is here! " you retorted, the terror resonating in your words. "All units are tracking your positions!" the voice replied.

A gunshot cracked through the air, and you glanced back to witness Ghostface, relentless and determined, hot on your heels. His ominous presence fueled your fear, propelling you forward in a desperate bid for survival.

In a moment of terror, Ghostface lunged at you, the force of his leap toppling you to the unforgiving ground. Your phone and knife clattered away, but with a surge of adrenaline, you rolled out of his grasp, swift and agile. Retrieving your knife, you abandoned your phone, the urgency of escape outweighing the need for communication.

The pursuit continued through the dimly lit streets, your breaths ragged and the cityscape blurring as you pushed your body to its limits. I will get you! You little bitch! You can't run from me, Y/n!"

The burn in your lungs and the relentless pounding of your heart fueled your determination to get away from the masked killer.

Vaulting over a fence, you cast a desperate glance over your shoulder. Ghostface closed in, his knife glinting ominously. With a swift maneuver, you veered to the left, finding refuge behind a hedge. The element of surprise played in your favor as you lunged at Ghostface, the blade of your knife finding its mark.

He howled in pain, an unexpected turn of events that left him wounded and disoriented. However, before you could savor your fleeting victory, Ghostface retaliated. Gripping you around the waist, he flung you to the ground, the impact stealing the air from your lungs.

Yet, salvation was imminent. By now, the lights in the surrounding houses flickered to life, and the distant wail of police sirens grew louder. Ghostface, now wounded and vulnerable, weighed his options. "Shit!" he exclaimed, his gaze darting between you and the encroaching law enforcement.

In a desperate bid to escape the imminent capture, Ghostface vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a wake of horrified onlookers. The chilling cries of "It's Ghostface!" and "It's the killer!" echoed through the neighborhood as the police closed in.

As you stood amidst the chaos, gasping for breath, it was in this disoriented state that you realized your knife, the very tool Heeseung had gifted you, was nowhere to be found. Panic and frustration intertwined as your eyes darted around the vicinity, searching for the glint of metal against the darkened pavement. But it was futile – the blade had vanished.

Then, the revelation hit you like a sudden gust of cold wind. A twisted sense of irony settled in as you connected the dots. Your knife, now lay embedded in the very source of the terror that had haunted your dreams.

A wry, bitter chuckle escaped your lips as you contemplated the absurdity of the situation. There goes Heeseung's gift, now an unwitting participant in the dark legacy of Ghostface that he had created. How ironic, you thought.

As the police surrounded you, you could only ponder the inexplicable twists of fate that had led you to this moment. "Why is it always me?" echoed in your thoughts. You were then ushered home, where your disheveled mother and worried brother awaited.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

After a week's absence, you returned to school, hoping for a semblance of normalcy. However, the moment you stepped onto the crowded campus, it felt like a tidal wave of students engulfed you. The sea of faces, voices clamoring over one another, and the proximity of people made panic grip your heart. The air felt thick, and you struggled to breathe as your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the chaotic environment.

With each step, the suffocating feeling intensified. It seemed like there was no escape, and you closed your eyes, attempting to shut out the sensory overload. The world was too loud, too close, and you pressed your hands to your ears in a desperate attempt to block it all out.

And then, a sudden quiet descended.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself facing someone's back. A familiar voice cut through the silence, "Back it up! Back it up! Give her some space! Ever heard of personal space?" It was Jungwon and Ni-ki, chasing away the dispersing crowd. Sunghoon stood by your side, his concern evident. The other boys formed a protective shield around you, except for Heeseung.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Sunghoon asked, worry etched on his face. "Yeah… yeah, I'm okay," you replied, glancing at the boys with gratitude.

"Thank you, guys," you whispered.

"You're welcome, Y/N. People really have no respect," Jay remarked.

"Come on," Jake suggested, extending his hand toward you. You took it, feeling a sense of security as they flanked you, walking together towards your class. You noticed how others instinctively kept their distance.

Curiosity crept in, and you couldn't help but ask, "Why is everyone like this?" Their hesitation was palpable.

"What?" you pressed. "Well… how do I say this, Y/N... The video footage of the store was kinda leaked, so everyone saw how you survived," Sunoo explained reluctantly.

Shocked, you hadn't been on social media during your absence. Your mother had been vigilant, keeping you and your brother under close watch, and your lost phone remained unretrieved from the chaotic events. "Can I see?" you inquired.

They exchanged glances before Ni-ki stepped forward, tapping on his phone and showing you the video. Watching the footage from entering the store to seeking refuge in the storage room, you handed Ni-ki his phone back, muttering a soft "Wow."

As they asked about your well-being, you couldn't muster a definitive answer. "I don't know… I think I want to be alone now," you admitted, walking the rest of the way to class in solitude, grappling with the sudden spotlight on your survival.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The school day unfolded as a mix of emotions and overwhelming attention. Everywhere you went, students sought your company, asking questions, expressing concern, or simply wanting to be associated with the survivor of the store incident. While the incessant attention was draining, you couldn't deny the relief of not constantly glancing over your shoulder, anticipating Yeowang's presence or the sting of hurtful comments from her followers. Heeseung's drastic actions had severed those ties, but the weight of the consequences lingered in the air.

Lunchtime offered a temporary escape, and amid the bustling cafeteria, you found a moment to inquire about Heeseung's absence. Turning to Jay, who was seated beside you, you popped the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Where's Heeseung?" you asked, genuinely curious. Jay, pausing from his meal, looked at you with a quizzical expression. "Heeseung? He's sick," he answered matter-of-factly. Your eyes widened in surprise. "You didn't know?" Jay questioned again. "Oh, no, I didn't," you replied, processing the unexpected information. "Well, maybe he forgot to tell you. He asked us to watch over you when you returned," Jay added before returning his attention to his food.

The revelation about Heeseung's sickness left you with a mix of emotions. You hadn't anticipated this news, and a sense of unease settled over you. The boys, it seemed, were keeping a close eye on you at Heeseung's behest.

Upon arriving home, your mother greeted you, "There you are! Here, honey," she exclaimed, holding out a familiar object in her hands. Your eyes widened with delight as she handed you your long-lost phone. "You found it!" you exclaimed, the joy evident in your voice as you accepted the device.

"Yes, I did. Sorry, it took so long," your mom apologized, her tone tinged with relief. "It's okay, Mom," you reassured her, appreciating her effort to recover your belongings. With a grateful smile, you declared your intention to retreat to your room. "I'm going to my room," you announced, "Okay, honey," your mom responded, her attention already shifting to the kitchen.

Retreating to your room, you plugged the phone into the charger, watching as the screen came to life. The device was flooded with notifications, but among them, Heeseung's attempts to reach you stood out. Eighty-eight missed calls and 113 unread messages painted a vivid picture of his persistence. However, you decided against delving into the messages. The idea of conversing with him felt overwhelming, and you needed time to process everything.

The remainder of the day became a sanctuary of solitude, spent either in your room or with your brother. As night fell, you found yourself alone in your bed, the familiar struggle to sleep resurfaced. Glancing at the watch, the harsh glow of the screen revealed the lateness of the hour — nearing 2:30 AM. With a heavy sigh, you turned your gaze back to the ceiling, the weight of memories threatened to pull you into a realm you desperately wished to forget. The scene replayed in your mind, a vivid flashback to a moment etched in pain and humiliation.

Flashback:

The air was thick with tension as you found yourself behind the school, isolated and vulnerable, devoid of Heeseung's protective presence. The silence that enveloped the secluded spot was soon shattered by the cruel laughter of those who reveled in your vulnerability.

In the grim backstage of the school building, Yeowang and her lackeys emerged like shadows, their intentions clear. The boyfriend of one of the girls seized you, his grip unyielding, rendering any attempts at escape futile.

One of the girls held your bag hostage, a sinister grin etched on her face as she poured a smoothie into its depths, saturating your belongings. The cold liquid seeped through your bag, a metaphor for the cold disdain they harbored.

Yeowang, the puppeteer orchestrating the torment, reveled in her power, her words laced with venom. "You really are a pathetic bitch, you know that?" Yeowang's voice dripped with disdain, a venomous taunt that sought to corrode your spirit. "Can't even go a day without your bodyguards.

Silence was your armor, a refusal to grant them the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. "I run this school! You hear me? Everyone wants me! Everyone answers to me!" Yeowang declared, her voice rising to a crescendo of arrogance.

Hateful glares were exchanged, and then, the resounding slap — a manifestation of her simmering rage.

A bitter glare was your only retort. "Well, you're doing a shit job at having everyone wanting you," you shot back, the words slicing through the tension like a knife. The impending storm erupted as Yeowang, seething with rage, prepared for another strike.

Refusing to succumb, you summoned strength from a reservoir of resilience. A swift punch to the guy's shin, a headbutt to his nose, and you were free. "Fuck! The bitch hit me in the motherfucking nose!" the boyfriend cried out, releasing his grip in pain. Seizing the opportunity, you launched yourself at Yeowang, a tempest of fists raining down on her.

The tables turned as you unleashed a torrent of punches on Yeowang, the once-confident bully now a target of your retribution.

Blood painted the scene as your fists found their mark, the visceral satisfaction of justice propelling each blow. The other girls, attempting to intervene, were met with your unrelenting force. Yeowang's hair became a makeshift handle as you screamed into her face, asserting your defiance. "Who`s the pathethic fucking bitch now?!" you declared, punctuating the statement with a final blow. As she staggered to her feet, blood-stained and defeated, her parting words echoed in the night air — "This isn't over!"

Breathing heavily, you watched them retreat into the darkness, a sense of triumph lingering in the air. With deep breaths, you salvaged what remained of your belongings.

A whimper from the fallen boy drew your attention. Standing over him, you asserted your demand for restitution. "Ey, asshole. You owe me a new bag and supplies," you declared, unyielding in the face of his feeble protests.

End of Flashback.

As the memory faded, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling, the weight of the past pressing against your chest, as another memory resurfaced

2nd Flashback:

The bathroom, a sanctuary of sorts, offered a brief respite from the chaos that often trailed in your wake. Alone, you stood by the sink, the cool water flowing over your hands. The door creaked open, revealing the unwelcome entrance of Yeowang.

"What now," you muttered, a weariness etched in your voice.

"You're dead," Yeowang declared, her words a venomous promise as she advanced with an air of calculated malice. Resigned, you met her gaze, your eyes betraying neither fear nor defiance. "Well, too bad I'm still alive," you retorted, the fatigue in your voice veiled behind a thin layer of indifference.

Yeowang, infuriated by your lack of submission, launched an attack. Her attempt at physical intimidation manifested in a swing of her hand, aimed at striking you into submission. Yet, in that moment, the reflexes of a survivor kicked in. You caught her wrist with a practiced ease, the strength beneath your seemingly fragile exterior taking her by surprise.

"Is that all you have?" you questioned, your voice laced with an exhaustion that transcended the physical. A gentle push sent her stumbling backward, her gasp of shock echoing in the tiled confines of the restroom.

"You worthless bitch! What does Heeseung even see in you?" Yeowang spat. Unmoved, you stood your ground, the echo of her insults bouncing off the bathroom walls. "I'm much better than you," she added, a final attempt to wound before she turned and left, the door closing with a hollow thud.

End of flashback.

As the memory dissipated, you sighed, the weight of Yeowang's animosity slowly lifting. Closing your eyes, you sought solace in the darkness, finally ridding yourself of the specter that haunted your past. Yet, amid the tranquility, Yeowang's last words lingered in the recesses of your mind — "What does Heeseung even see in you?"

The question, a lingering doubt, seized your thoughts, an elusive enigma that would accompany you into the realm of dreams. Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, finally claimed you, pulling you into a restless slumber, where the shadows of the past continued to dance at the periphery of your subconscious.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The soothing hum of the library enveloped you as you sat with the boys, engrossed in your study materials. Ni-ki, positioned beside you, couldn't resist stealing glances at your work. Aware of his glances, you decided to address the matter. "Ni-ki, I can see you looking. I can just help you," you offered, your voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"No, no, I'm fine, really!" Ni-ki hastily responded, attempting to assure you. Your eyes rolled in response, a subtle expression of your disbelief. Despite his protests, you returned your attention to your work, a faint smile lingering on your lips.

The rhythmic quietude was disrupted by the sudden entrance of Jake, his figure a whirlwind of excitement as he sprinted towards your table, arms waving emphatically. Jungwon voiced the collective curiosity, asking, "What's up with him?" Jake, breathless, stopped by the occupied table, a piece of paper clutched in his hands.

"Guys!" he exclaimed, momentarily drowned out by a nearby shush from an irritated student. Apologetically, Jake mumbled an apology to the disgruntled individual before focusing on the group again. His announcement resonated with enthusiasm, "Guys, there's a Halloween party coming up this Friday at Hyunjin's house!"

Intrigued by the unexpected announcement, Sunoo, voiced the question on everyone's minds. "Halloween party?" he inquired. Jake's affirmative nod unleashed a ripple of reactions, from raised eyebrows to exchanged glances.

However, Jay, interjected with a touch of seriousness. "So let me see if I understood this... there's a party this Halloween, despite the fact that we live in an unsafe town?" His inquiry injected a note of caution, prompting a brief pause in the group's excitement as they considered the potential risks associated with attending a festive gathering in the current environment.

Just as uncertainty lingered, a new voice chimed in, and all heads turned to see Hyunjin, who sauntered up and casually slung an arm around Jake's neck. "It`ll be fun guys!" Hyunjin pointed out, "Besides! I hired security to stand guard! And the place will be packed. Only those with private invitations get in! So everyone will be held accountable!"

Hyunjin's explanation seemed to alleviate some concerns. As a gesture of encouragement, he set down five private invitations. Jake, already holding one, received an extra burst of excitement. "See you all this Friday!" Hyunjin declared, leaving the library with an air of confidence.

The group momentarily sobered, caught between the allure of a party and the reality of their surroundings.

However, Jake's plea for company quickly shifted the focus. "Come on, guys, pleaseee! I don't wanna go alone," he implored, pulling an empty chair to the table and joining Ni-ki, and you couldn't help but notice Jake's puppy-dog eyes fixed on you. Eyes turned towards you, the only girl in the group, as you reached for one of the invitations. The golden letters on the Halloween-themed background spoke of festivities and fun, inviting participants to wear costumes, with additional details about security and the address.

Despite knowing your mother might not permit you to attend, the earnestness in Jake's eyes prompted a smile and a nod from you. The boys, each securing an invitation, burst into lively discussion about the upcoming event. Sunoo's excitement over costumes and Sunghoon's reminiscence of past parties echoed through the library, and you found solace in the distraction from your own thoughts.

Amidst the lively chatter, your attention briefly strayed to your phone, thoughts of Heeseung, absent for days due to sickness, tugged at your heart. Days had passed since you last saw or heard from him, as he had been notably absent from the recent killing spree.

You did feel a mix of pride for his restraint and worry for his sudden disappearance.

While the boys immersed themselves in costume ideas displayed on Jake's computer screen, the realization struck— you missed Heeseung. The void left by his absence flooded your mind. The real smiles, the scent of his cologne, the sound of his voice, his tender kisses, and the protective embrace that made you feel cherished—all of it tugged at your heart.

Despite your attempt to ignore the emotions welling up inside you, you remained oblivious to the devious plans the boys were quietly hatching, a surprise destined to unfold on the night of the Halloween party.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The soft glow of fairy lights adorned Sunoo's bedroom, casting a warm and inviting ambiance. Yet, the atmosphere clashed with the rising tension within you. "Are you joking with me?" you asked, standing in the middle of the room, a sense of skepticism etched across your face. Sunoo, with an excited glint in his eyes, had taken it upon himself to select your Halloween costume. Trusting him with this responsibility now felt like a leap of faith you were questioning.

On Sunoo's bed lay the ensemble he had chosen for you – an angel costume. The short, ethereal white dress poofed out at the bottom, giving it an otherworldly charm. White gloves, elegantly reaching to your elbows, accompanied the outfit. A delicate headband connected to a halo rested on the bed, awaiting it`s place atop your head. White tights, adorned with diamonds intricately stitched into the fabric, a pair of pristine white heels and soft, pelt-like angel wings completed the ensemble.

You cautiously touched the wings, surprised by their softness, "It's a pretty costume, Y/n! Come on, give it a try!" Sunoo pleaded with an infectious enthusiasm. "Fine…but only because I don't have anything else, and the party is in one hour."

As Sunoo gave you an encouraging thumbs up, he exited the room, leaving you to change. Closing the door behind him, you took a deep breath, eyeing the costume. The room echoed with your murmured mantra, "This is crazy, this is crazy," as you began the process of changing into the attire.

After finishing changing into the angel costume Sunoo had chosen for you, you stepped in front of the mirror to assess the result. As you looked at your reflection, a sense of relief washed over you—you looked okay. With a twirl, you tested the movement of the skirt, pleased to see it held its shape beautifully. Amidst the ensemble, a pearly waistbead adorned your waist, its lustrous pearls gleaming softly in the dim light. A black heart, connected the pearls, adding a subtle yet captivating contrast to the purity of your costume. Additionally, a layered pearly necklace graced your neck, at the center, a heart pendant adorned with intricate wings hung delicately, perfectly complementing the angelic theme of your attire.

"Y/n?" Sunoo's voice came from behind the door, accompanied by a light knock. "Are you finished?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm finished," you replied, confirming your readiness.

Sunoo eagerly opened the door and entered the room, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of you. With an enthusiastic grin, he clapped his hands and bounced lightly on his feet. "You look so beautiful, Y/n!" he exclaimed, his genuine compliment warming your heart.

"Really?" you responded, still a bit uncertain.

"Of course! I would never lie to you!" Sunoo reassured you before grabbing his own costume—a simple pirate outfit—and preparing to get ready.

As you applied the finishing touches to your hair and makeup, you soon felt satisfied with your appearance. Descending the stairs in your costume, you found Sunoo already heading out the front door towards the car. And Jay, dressed as The Joker, was assisting Jungwon with his car racer costume.

"What are you supposed to be?" you asked Jungwon.

"I'm supposed to be a car racer who died in a car crash and—" Jungwon paused mid-sentence as he turned to face you, his expression mirroring Sunoo's excitement. "Wow, Y/n! You look amazing!" he exclaimed, rushing over to you and taking your hands in his.

"Thank you, Jungwon!" you replied, returning his smile.

Jay, who had also turned to see you, was momentarily speechless. "Wow…" he whispered, clearly impressed. "You will definitely win the prettiest costume," he declared.

"There are awards?" you asked, surprised.

"Yeah! Hyunjin put it together last minute as a treat," Jungwon explained as he guided you out to the waiting car, with Jay following suit.

Taking your place in the passenger seat as Jay drove, you glanced out at the streets, observing the groups of trick-or-treaters and families celebrating Halloween together. "The others will meet us at the party," Jungwon informed, looking up from his phone.

"Oh, fun!" Sunoo exclaimed, anticipation evident in his voice.

As Jay parked the car a bit away from Hyunjin's house, you all stepped out into the night. The air was filled with the distant sound of music and laughter, and the glow of colorful lights illuminated the sky above Hyunjin's mansion. The driveway was packed with cars, and groups of people in various costumes were milling around, chatting and laughing.

Jungwon led the way, striding confidently towards the imposing front doors of the mansion. A security guard stood watch, checking invitations as guests arrived. You, Jay, and Sunoo followed closely behind Jungwon, anticipation building with every step.

"Invites?" the guard asked as you approached. You reached into your purse and retrieved the slip of paper, handing it to the guard. He glanced at it briefly before nodding and allowing you to pass.

Stepping inside, you were immediately struck by the grandeur of Hyunjin's family mansion. The interior was vast and dimly lit, with the only sources of light being the moonlight streaming through the windows and the pulsating lights from the dance floor.

A sweeping staircase led up to the second floor, where silhouettes of partygoers could be seen mingling and dancing. The sound of music filled the air, accompanied by the occasional cheer or burst of laughter.

You squinted against the flashing lights and spotted the DJ, Changbin, stationed at his booth, dressed as a zombie.

"Come on!" Sunoo's enthusiastic call broke through the noise. He eagerly pulled you and the rest of the group towards a living room area where some guests were taking a break on the couches. As you approached, you noticed Ni-ki sitting on one of the couches, dressed as Luigi, looking somewhat irritated as he sipped on a drink. Next to him sat Jake, dressed as Mario, laughing uproariously at something.

Ni-ki spotted you and waved, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Finally!" he exclaimed, quickly bouncing off the couch to greet you. "Wow, you guys look amazing!" he complimented, his annoyance momentarily forgotten. You and the rest of the group thanked him, exchanging smiles.

The conversation took an unexpected turn as Jake, clearly a bit tipsy, giggled and made a comment about Heeseung's hypothetical reaction to seeing you. Confusion flashed across your face as you turned to the others, noticing their guilty expressions. "Heeseung is here?" you inquired, surprised by the revelation.

Before anyone could respond, you heard your name being called from behind. You turned around, as you laid eyes on Sunghoon approaching you. Dressed as a vampire, he exuded an air of elegance, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked. "You look amazing!" Sunghoon complimented sincerely, his warm smile momentarily easing your discomfort. "Thank you, you too."

However, it was the figure standing awkwardly behind Sunghoon that made your stomach churn. Heeseung stood there, dressed as a demon, his appearance sending a wave of mixed emotions coursing through you. Simple yet undeniably captivating in his black attire, Heeseung's unbuttoned shirt revealed his collarbones, and a silver chain hung around his neck. Black horns protruded from his slicked-back hair, and a pair of black wings adorned his back, completing the demonic ensemble.

As you took in his appearance, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anger, confusion, and longing wash over you.

With a sharp glare, you directed your gaze towards the boys, who attempted to appear innocent under your scrutiny. However, their guilty expressions betrayed them, and they instinctively backed away from your piercing stare. Clearly, they were responsible for orchestrating this couple costume setup, and you vowed silently to exact revenge on them soon.

"You look good," Heeseung's voice interrupted your silent standoff, drawing your attention back to him. Studying him closely now, you noticed the recent events had taken a toll on him. His eyes were tired, rimmed with dark circles, and he seemed notably thinner. "Thanks... you too," you replied, masking your concern with a polite response. Heeseung shrugged. "Thanks but, it wasn't my idea, Jake got me the costume," he admitted, his gaze dropping to his attire.

Forcing a smile, you turned your attention back to the boys, who now seemed to be squirming under your murderous stare. They were the culprits behind this whole ordeal, and they knew it. You relaxed your expression slightly as you turned back to Heeseung. "It wasn't mine either, Sunoo got me this," you explained, playing with the hem of your dress nervously.

"Well, it's pretty," Heeseung admitted, his nervousness evident as he bit his bottom lip. Surprised by his sincerity, you simply nodded in acknowledgment. Jungwon intervened, suggesting a drink, and you allowed him to lead you away from Heeseung.

Navigating through the crowded party, you and Jungwon eventually reached the spacious kitchen. Bottles of alcohol and snacks lined the long island, and Jungwon wasted no time in fixing himself a drink. You grabbed a drink for yourself and downed it in one gulp before turning to Jungwon with a pointed question.

"Did you know about it?" you asked, your tone laced with accusation. Jungwon stiffened at your tone, attempting to defend himself. "I didn't want to actually participate—" he began, but you cut him off, unimpressed by his excuses. "But you did know about it, and you didn't tell me?" you interjected sharply.

Jungwon pleaded innocence, claiming it was all Jake's idea. Despite his apology, you grumbled in frustration, punching him lightly in the arm. "Ow!" Jungwon protested, rubbing the spot where you had hit him, but you merely shrugged, determined to exact revenge on the boys for their deception.

"Hey Y/n! you're here?" A cheerful voice called out, pulling your attention away from the crowd. It was Yuna, one of your classmates, dressed as Carrie from the horror novel. Beside her stood Giselle, adorned in a witch costume. "Hello," you greeted them warmly, a smile playing on your lips.

"I'm going out," Giselle announced, grabbing a bottle of soju from the fridge before making her exit. Yuna flashed you a friendly smile and poured herself a drink. "I like your costume!" she complimented you. "Thanks, I like yours too," you replied, returning the compliment.

"Hey, a few of us were going out, do you want to join?" she asked, her tone inviting, Yuna's invitation caught you off guard but piqued your interest. You had grown close with Yuna over class, and her offer seemed appealing. With a nod, you accepted, feeling comfortable in her presence. "Yeah, I'll be right there," you confirmed.

"Cool!" Yuna exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice, before heading off to join her friends. Turning to face Jungwon, who looked slightly puzzled, "you're going with her?" he inquired, his expression curious. "Yes, I can't stick with you guys the whole night," you explained. Jungwon nodded understandingly, a smile gracing his lips. "Have fun and be safe then. We'll be around here if you need us," he reassured you before taking his leave.

Taking another sip of your drink, you felt a surge of confidence coursing through you as you navigated your way through the pulsating dance floor. The crowd seemed to part effortlessly as you passed, their gazes drawn to your costume. Some offered compliments as you made your way through the throng, and you graciously thanked them, a smile playing on your lips.

As you reached the back of the house, you stepped outside into the cool night air, scanning the area for Yuna. Spotting her amidst a group of people, she waved enthusiastically, her excitement palpable. Making your way over, you were greeted by the welcoming smiles of Yuna's friends.

"You actually came!" Yuna exclaimed, her happiness evident in her tone. "Guys, you know Y/n," she introduced you to the group, who greeted you warmly in return. Though you recognized them, you hadn't interacted with them much before.

Giselle stood besides Yuna, accompanied by Yuqi, whose fairy costume added a whimsical touch to the gathering. Kazuha, dressed as the hauntingly beautiful Corpse Bride, stood beside them. Momo, adorned in mummy wrappings, mingled with the group. Felix, portraying the spirited Luffy from the anime, engaged in a conversation with Mingi, who was decked out as the iconic Michael Myers. Minghao, was dressed as the beloved superhero Spiderman, and Keeho stood tall, embodying the iconic Batman, while Taehyung, was dressed as the enigmatic Phantom of the Opera.

Meanwhile, as Jungwon joined the rest of the guys, they noticed your absence from their midst. "Where's Y/n?" Ni-ki asked, glancing around the room. "She's with some of her friends, I think," Jungwon replied, taking a seat beside Jay and Sunghoon. But then another realization struck Jungwon. "Where's Heeseung?" he asked, scanning the room. The boys looked around, but Heeseung was nowhere to be found. "Huh? He was just here!?" Ni-ki exclaimed in confusion. "He's probably around here," Sunghoon suggested.

"Was it wrong of us to drag them to this party?" Sunoo pondered aloud, expressing concern. "No, they need to realize that they love each other," Jake asserted confidently, his voice rising a bit too loudly and drawing unwanted attention from those nearby. "Shhh!" Jay quickly shushed him, casting a wary glance around the room. "We don't want everyone here to know!" he admonished Jake. "We can only hope they realize it," he added, the concern evident in his tone.

Meanwhile, you happily engaged in conversation with Yuna and her friends, though you kept your interactions with Taehyung to a minimum, he seemed content simply gazing at you, making you feel a tad uncomfortable, especially with the chill in the air. As Felix proposed hitting the dance floor, you glanced at your phone and saw a message from your brother indicating that he had successfully covered for you and your mother was asleep. Grateful for his assistance, you slipped your phone back into your purse as Yuna pulled you onto the dance floor with her friends.

Lost in the pulsating rhythm and laughter, you suddenly felt a burning stare and glanced around, eventually locking eyes with Heeseung, who stood a distance away, his gaze fixed solely on you. Feeling uneasy, you looked away, only to be swept into the dance by Kazuha and mingling with Mingi, who smiled down at you.

Amidst the joyous atmosphere, you eventually excused yourself to the kitchen for a drink. The quiet solitude enveloped you as you leaned against the counter, the faint scent of nicotine lingering in the air. Lost in thought, you retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and took a sip. Just then, Heeseung entered the room, breaking the silence. "Hi," you greeted softly, meeting his gaze. "Hello," he replied, his voice equally soft.

A moment of silence passed between you before Heeseung spoke again. "You looked like you had fun on the dance floor," he remarked, attempting to break the tension. "Yeah, I did," you replied, though the unease lingered in your voice. "How are you doing?" you asked, hoping for a glimpse into his state of mind. He seemed surprised by your question. "I'm good. How are you doing?" he asked in return. "Good," you answered, though the strength in your voice wavered.

As you and Heeseung stood there awkwardly in the kitchen, a group of drunk people stumbled in, breaking the tense silence. Quickly, you averted your gaze, feeling the need to escape. You attempted to slip out of the kitchen, but a glance behind you revealed that Heeseung was following closely behind, his expression determined as he prowled after you. Gasping, you navigated through the crowd, each time you turned, he was right on your trail, his presence looming closer.

What was he doing? You couldn't help but wonder as you climbed up to the second floor, weaving past people until you finally stopped and turned around. To your relief, you didn't see Heeseung, feeling victorious as you leaned over the balcony railing, observing the festivities below. A smile graced your lips as you spotted Jake, Jay, and Ni-ki on the dance floor, enjoying themselves.

However, your moment of triumph was short-lived as you sensed someone approaching from behind. Instinctively, you knew it was Heeseung, his cologne lingering in the air as his arms enveloped you against the railing. He had pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his toned and veiny arms as he gripped the railing, his head resting on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "You thought you could escape from me?" Feeling a surge of panic at his sudden presence, you attempted to pull away from his grip, but Heeseung's hold only tightened around you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, preventing your escape, as he effortlessly pulled you back into his chest. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing against your back, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace, leaving you with no choice but to surrender to his hold.

Heeseung leaned over the railing, bringing you along with him. You had no choice but to lean over as well, your weight supported by the sturdy wooden barrier. From the corner of your eye, you could see him gazing at you, his intense gaze locking with yours as he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear, "Running from me like that?" His voice was soft yet laced with a hint of accusation. Your mouth opened in response, but no words came out. You missed this intimacy, feeling safe and secure in his embrace, as if he could alleviate all your stress.

Eventually, you turned around to face him, meeting his gaze as he leaned in closer. Placing a hand on his chest, you tilted your head slightly, whispering, "I thought I could try." Neither of you spoke after that, simply gazing at each other, both feeling touch-starved after days apart.

"Please, angel," Heeseung whispered, his touch sending a warm sensation through your stomach. Before you could respond, however, you heard your name being called. Startled, both you and Heeseung pulled back to see Giselle standing there. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?" she asked innocently. "No, no," you quickly assured her. "Um, what is it?" you asked.

"Mingi is looking for you," Giselle informed you, oblivious to the tension between you and Heeseung. You noticed the subtle clenching of Heeseung's jaw at the news. "Oh, thank you for telling me," you said to Giselle, offering a polite smile as she walked away, leaving you and Heeseung.

Clearing your throat to catch Heeseung's attention, you saw his gaze instantly snap to you. "I'm gonna..." you started talking as you began to walk back down, but with a glance behind you, you noticed Heeseung was still following after you. Shaking your head, you navigated around the thick crowd until you made it to the dance floor. You spotted Yuna and her friends still dancing, but no sign of Mingi. Scanning the area, you tried to find him, but it seemed like he found you first. "There you are!" Mingi said happily, and you turned, smiling at him as he led you to the outskirts of the ground floor where a bar stood. "There's a bar?" you asked, surprised by its presence. "Yes!" Mingi exclaimed. You both settled on the barstools as you ordered a strong drink, feeling like you needed it.

As you and Mingi began chatting like old friends, the bartender prepared your drinks. You both cheered your shots, downing them quickly. Mingi ordered another round of drinks as you looked out at the dance floor, feeling a sense of something pulling you. You made eye contact with Heeseung, who stood by the door, surrounded by other people but with his full attention fixed on you. You quickly turned back to Mingi, who was rambling on about something, and you listened attentively.

As time passed and the shots flowed, you began to feel the buzz of alcohol. Giggling with Mingi, who was clearly drunk as he clung to you, he slurred, "Hey Y/n! You are very beautiful!" "Thank you, Mingi," you giggled in response. "Hey, hey! Are you single?" he slurred further. "Well..." you started to reply, but before you could finish, a scream interrupted. You looked and saw Yuna running towards you. "Y/n! Come on! Come on!" she screamed, grabbing you and Mingi. "This is my song!" she declared as a Rihanna song blared through the speakers.

Wide-eyed, you recognized the song as "Only Girl (In the World)" and Yuna pulled you and Mingi into the middle of the dance floor. Without hesitation, you smiled and danced and sang along with Yuna, Giselle, Yuqi, Momo, and Kazuha. Together, you all screamed the lyrics without a care in the world.

Spinning around, you saw Jake and Ni-ki dancing nearby. When they noticed you, they jumped closer, joining in the fun. Lost in the music and the energy of the moment, you danced with abandon.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As the night progressed, you found yourself fully immersed in the energy of the party. The music throbbed in your ears, the flashing lights painted the room in vibrant hues, and the laughter of your friends echoed in the air. Amidst the chaos of the dance floor, you let yourself go, moving to the rhythm with abandon, your worries melting away with every beat.

But amidst the crowd, amidst the laughter and the music, your attention kept being drawn to him. Heeseung, his presence a constant, his gaze an ever-present force that seemed to follow you wherever you went. You felt his eyes on you, hungry, intense, and filled with longing. Every time you glanced in his direction, you found him there, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that his attention brought. It felt good to be wanted, to be pursued with such fervor. Despite the chaos of the party, despite the throng of people surrounding you, it was his gaze that you found yourself drawn to, his presence that you couldn't shake.

Outside by the grand pool, you found a moment's respite from the pulsating energy of the party. Nestled on a plush couch with friends on either side, the night air carried the distant echoes of laughter and music, a backdrop to the tranquil scene. Yuna occupied the space to your left, a comforting presence amidst the lively ambiance, while Mingi sat on your right, his flushed cheeks betraying the effects of the festivities.

As you sat there, the weariness of the night settling upon you, you nursed a drink that had long lost its chill. Setting it down on a nearby table, your gaze wandered to the pool, its iridescent waters shimmering under the moonlight, casting a mesmerizing glow.

Mingi's arm draped around you, pulling you closer, you chuckled softly at his playful demeanor, but as his gaze met yours, a sense of disquiet washed over you. Something felt off, a nagging feeling that this wasn't where you belonged. It wasn't Mingi's touch that you craved, but another's, someone whose absence had left a void within you.

Before you could dwell further on your thoughts, a sudden presence loomed behind you. Turning around, you found Heeseung standing there, his demeanor intense and unwavering. His piercing gaze bore into Mingi, a silent warning that didn't escape your notice.

"Y/n, may I have a word?" Heeseung's voice cut through the air, his tone clipped and authoritative. "Hey, we're kinda busy here," Mingi's voice carried a hint of protest, but Heeseung's response was swift. "Not anymore you are," he snapped back, his tone laced with an edge that brooked no argument. The intensity of his gaze bore down on Mingi, leaving him no choice but to relent. "Okay, okay. Fine, take her," Mingi's words held a tinge of resignation.

With an apologetic smile aimed at Mingi, you rose from the couch, the weight of Heeseung's stare compelling you to follow him.

As you came to him, he wordlessly pulled you along to a vacant room, his grip firm around your waist. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken tension as you searched his eyes for answers, but he remained resolute, his gaze unwavering.

"What did you want to talk about?" you ventured, but Heeseung's response was swift and startling. With a sudden movement, he slammed his hand against the wall beside your head, causing you to emit a small noise of surprise. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and despair as he unleashed a torrent of emotion.

"Does it humor you?" His voice trembled with pent-up frustration, each word dripping with the bitter taste of betrayal.

"What?" The single word escaped your lips, echoing in the tense silence that enveloped you both. Heeseung's frustration boiled over, his words pouring forth like a rainstorm.

"Does it humor you to break up, leave me to rot, knowing that bastard went after you and not send me a message that you were okay?" His voice cracked with raw emotion, his despair pouring out in waves.

You stood there, paralyzed by the weight of his words, unable to offer any solace or explanation. He continued, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and despair, each syllable a dagger to your heart.

"…and then show up looking so beautiful?" His voice wavered. The realization of your absence, of the void left in his life, weighed heavily on his shoulders, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable weight. "And then see other guys look at you? Knowing I can't do anything because you aren't mine anymore?" His words tumbled out in a torrent of despair.

His hand rose to your cheek, a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness. You felt the warmth of his touch against your skin, a bittersweet reminder of the love that still lingered between you, despite the pain that had torn you apart.

"They don't deserve to look at you." The words slipped from his lips like a whispered prayer, a plea for redemption amidst the chaos of his shattered heart.

As the weight of his words settled upon you, you found yourself speechless.

"Heeseung… I'm… so sorry, but I didn't…" You struggled to articulate your thoughts, but they remained elusive, lost amidst the maelstrom of emotions swirling within you. "I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Then don't say anything," Heeseung's words were a command, a plea wrapped in desperation. Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours. A gasp escaped your lips as he drew you closer, his hand instinctively finding its place around your neck. The world around you faded as you went slack in his hold.

You basked in the intensity of the moment, feeling the undeniable rightness of being in Heeseung's arms after days of longing. His touch, his kiss, it all felt like a familiar embrace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of your emotions. As his hand trailed down to your thigh, hitching it up, you felt a surge of desire coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body.

Heeseung's touch became more fervent, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs through the fabric, sending shivers down your spine. With a sense of urgency, his hand slipped upward, tracing the curve of your thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. In a bold move, you wrapped your leg around his hip, drawing him closer.

He pulled back from the kiss, his lips leaving a trail of fiery kisses along your neck, marking you as his own with each fervent touch. "Heeseung—" You attempted to speak, to voice the thoughts swirling within your mind, but his lips silenced you once more, his desperation evident in the small, desperate sounds escaping his lips. You felt his hands slide to your hips, pulling you close, while your hands instinctively found their place on his chest.

But before you could surrender completely to the moment, the door burst open, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy between you and Heeseung. With a start, you pushed him away, both of you turning to see a couple of drunken partygoers stumbling into the room. Heeseung's expression turned murderous, his gaze fixed on the intruders with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment of chaos and intrusion, you made a split-second decision, pulling away from Heeseung and running out of the room, ignoring his shouts behind you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fled, overwhelmed by the realization that once again, you had fallen back into the tangled web of emotions surrounding Heeseung.

You felt trapped, ensnared by a love that seemed to have a grip on your very soul, leaving you with no clear path forward. Despite your efforts to break free, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were destined to be entangled with Heeseung, no matter how hard you tried to resist.

The cacophony of the party faded into the background as you burst out of the door, onto the deserted streets, the sound of your heels resonating with each hurried step. It was late, the moon casting an eerie glow on the silent pavement, devoid of any signs of life. Houses stood like looming shadows, their windows darkened, their inhabitants lost in the embrace of sleep. All you could focus on was the desperate need to escape, to find solace in the familiarity of home.

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the ominous presence trailing behind you, the faint hum of an engine echoing in the empty street. The realization struck too late, a sharp pang of pain reverberating through your body as something solid collided with you. The world seemed to spin, your senses overwhelmed by a wave of agony as you crumpled to the cold asphalt, the harsh impact stealing the air from your lungs.

Through tear-blurred vision, you glimpsed a shadowy figure approaching through the haze, a menacing silhouette against the dimly lit backdrop of the night. Your consciousness wavered, as you surrendered to the engulfing void, your body succumbing to the numbing embrace of unconsciousness.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As consciousness slowly seeped back into your awareness, you were immediately engulfed in a whirlwind of agony. Pain coursed through every fiber of your being, a relentless torment that threatened to consume you whole. With a cry of anguish, you attempted to move, only to find your limbs unresponsive, bound by unseen restraints.

Opening your eyes proved to be a daunting task, the world swimming in a haze of disorientation. Through bleary vision, you were greeted by the sight of a gray cement wall. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you attempted to turn your head, only to be met with a wave of dizziness that left you reeling.

As you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. With a growing sense of dread, you cast your gaze downward, your heart sinking as you beheld the sight before you. You were bound to a chair, your arms and legs immobilized by tight restraints. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind as you writhed against the bindings, each movement met with searing pain.

Your eyes fell upon your left arm, where an IV drip stood, pushing an unknown substance through your veins, dulling your senses and leaving you feeling lethargic and heavy-limbed. Panic surged within you as you realized the extent of your predicament.

Still clad in your Halloween costume, the remnants of the festivities felt like a cruel mockery in the face of your current ordeal. Bruised and bloodied, you were a stark contrast to the playful facade you had worn just hours earlier. Your heels lay discarded nearby, a reminder of the freedom that had been cruelly stripped away from you.

A cloth gag silenced any attempts at outcry, muffling your cries of desperation as you surveyed your surroundings. The room resembled a dark, foreboding cellar, devoid of windows. A single reinforced steel door loomed ominously before you, another chair, positioned a short distance away, served as the only other furniture in the chamber.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you took in the bleak reality of your situation. Bound and helpless, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape. With a heavy heart, you resigned yourself to the chilling silence, the echoes of your thoughts the only company in the darkness.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The news of your disappearance spread like wildfire, igniting a frenzy of panic and despair among those who know and love you. On television screens and newspaper headlines, your face was plastered alongside the words "MISSING."

In the midst of the chaos, your mother's anguished cries pierced the air, echoing through the once-familiar confines of your home. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs a testament to the depths of her despair.

Your brother, haunted by guilt, paced the floorboards with a heavy heart, knowing that his actions had contributed to your disappearance.

Outside, the authorities scrambled to gather information, their efforts focused on piecing together the fragments of your last known movements. Police officers canvassed the streets, questioning witnesses and appealing to the public for any shred of information that might lead to your whereabouts.

Meanwhile, your friends, consumed by worry and fear, clung to each other for support. They replayed the events of the night over and over in their minds, grappling with feelings of guilt and helplessness.

But perhaps none felt the weight of your absence more than Heeseung. As he awoke to the news of your disappearance, his world shattered into a million pieces. With trembling hands, he reached for his phone, desperate to hear the sound of your voice, only to be met with the cold, indifferent voice of an automated message. In a fit of anguish, he hurled his phone across the room.

Dongsik, sensing his owner's distress, approached tentatively. But Heeseung was beyond comfort, his fears consuming him whole as he crumbled beneath the weight of his despair.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As time dragged on in the dim confines of the basement, you felt the oppressive weight of darkness pressing down on you, enveloping you in a suffocating shroud of uncertainty. With no sunlight to gauge the passage of time and no watch to mark the hours, you were left to languish in the void, trapped in a timeless limbo of despair.

Suddenly, the heavy silence was shattered by the creak of the door swinging open, and you blinked against the sudden intrusion of light, your vision swimming in disorientation. As your eyes adjusted, you were met with the chilling sight of Ghostface, your captor, looming ominously in the doorway. A surge of fear shot through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you braced yourself for whatever horror he had in store.

"Mhmh," you attempted to speak, but your words were stifled by the gag, leaving only muffled sounds to escape your lips. Ghostface's voice echoed in the darkness, his tone dripping with sinister amusement as he addressed you.

"Ah, you are awake! Wonderful," he intoned, his voice sending shivers down your spine. The chair creaked ominously beneath you as you struggled against your restraints, the ropes digging into your skin as you rocked back and forth in a desperate attempt to free yourself.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Don't do that, my dear. I don't want you bleeding out and dying so early! That would just ruin the fun," he remarked, his words laced with a sickening sense of amusement.

With a grimace of pain, you stilled your movements, the throbbing ache in your body a relentless reminder of your vulnerability. Ghostface's presence loomed over you, his masked visage shrouded in shadows as he studied you with a predatory curiosity. You met his gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to cower before his intimidation tactics, causing his patience to wear thin as he tore the gag from your mouth.

"Now, I finally have you right where I want you," he declared, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "What is so special about you, hmm?" he inquired, his tone dripping with disdain as he awaited your response.

Your defiance burned brightly in your eyes as you locked gazes with Ghostface, refusing to yield. "Oh, don't give me that look!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation. "You broke his reigning killing streak, and for what?" he demanded, but still, you refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, your lips pressed together in a line.

"Ah, the silent treatment, hm?" Ghostface chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "But your silence won't save you now, my dear." Yet you offered no response.

"Oh, how you infuriate me," Ghostface sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "But mark my words, my dear, I will uncover the truth, one way or another."

"Fuck you, you bastard," you spat defiantly, which was met with a growl of frustration from your captor. "Why do you have to make this so difficult, sweetheart?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he bathed the basement in harsh light before retreating. You winced at the sudden assault on your senses, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes.

Alone in the oppressive silence, you screamed until your voice grew hoarse, your cries echoing fruitlessly against the unforgiving walls. With each passing moment, the weight of your captivity bore down on you with crushing force, leaving you battered and broken, your thoughts consumed by the memory of Heeseung and the cruel twists of fate that had led you to this nightmarish ordeal.

"Heeseung," you whispered, the name a desperate plea for solace in the darkness as tears streamed silently down your cheeks, your heart aching with longing for the one person who might offer you a glimmer of hope in the abyss of your despair.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The sound of the door creaking open echoed through the dimly lit basement, but you didn't lift your head or open your eyes. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you, your body drained of strength and your spirit battered by the relentless torment you endured.

"I know you are awake, Y/n," Ghostface's voice cut through the silence as he moved about the room. You grumbled out a response, your voice hoarse and barely audible. Your throat felt raw from screaming, your stomach gnawing with hunger, and your mind clouded with fatigue.

"Don't worry, it will all be over soon," Ghostface's words offered little comfort as you finally raised your head to observe his movements. He had set up a phone to record you, his actions sending a chill down your spine as you realized the gravity of the situation. "How long have I been here?" you managed to croak out, wincing at the harshness of your own tone.

"You've only been here for two days, Y/n," Ghostface replied, his tone laced with mockery. "Don't tell me you're already breaking?" he taunted, his laughter echoing in the confined space. You remained silent, unable to summon the strength to respond as he continued his preparations.

"It won't matter, if this works you won't stay here for long!" Ghostface's words washed over you, your mind numb to the significance of his threats. His voice droned on, the ringing in your ears grew louder, drowning out his voice as you weakly blinked at the camera, your gaze unfocused.

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your scalp as Ghostface seized your hair in a vice-like grip, yanking your head back forcefully. Your eyes snapped open in response to the agony, your gaze meeting his behind the chilling facade of his mask. He wielded a knife, its glinting blade poised menacingly against your throat, applying just enough pressure to draw blood.

You grimaced, the metallic tang of blood filling your senses as a single drop trickled down from where the knife bit into your skin.

"Come to the beginning and you'll find your precious little thing," Ghostface's words cut through, his grip relenting as he released you and turned to the phone, ending the recording.

"That's all I need from you. Now you stay here and don't move," Ghostface commanded, dismantling the setup with disregard. "Not like you can go anywhere with how you look!" he mocked, his laughter fading as he exited the room, leaving you alone in the frigid darkness once more.

Tears welled in your eyes as your body trembled with exhaustion and fear, you cried out, your voice lost in the void as despair threatened to consume you whole.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Heeseung sat on the couch, his surroundings a chaotic reflection of his inner turmoil. The living room was in disarray, scattered with empty instant ramen containers and discarded pieces of paper strewn across the coffee table. His hair was disheveled, a wild mess mirroring the chaos of his mind, and dark circles underscored his eyes, evidence of his sleepless nights.

Just as he was consumed by his overwhelming sense of helplessness, his phone buzzed with a message notification. His heart leaped into his throat as he snatched up the device, his hands trembling. The screen was illuminated with message from Jay:

Turn on the news

The message read, short and to the point. Without a moment's hesitation, Heeseung leaped over the coffee table, his movements fueled by a surge of urgency. He reached for the remote control, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste, and aimed it at the television.

With a press of a button, the screen flickered to life, bathing the dimly lit room in the soft glow of the news broadcast. Heeseung's heart pounded in his chest as he awaited the unfolding of events, his eyes fixed on the screen.

The news anchor's somber expression mirrored Heeseung's growing dread as she began to speak about the recent disappearance of you, her voice weighted with sorrow.

"We have received a video from an anonymous sender regarding the recent disappearance of Y/N Y/L/N, which has been concluded as a kidnapping," the news anchor announced, her tone heavy with gravity. "What you are about to witness is nothing short of horror."

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat as the video feed started, revealing you, broken and hurt, your eyes vacant as they stared past the camera. His heart clenched at the sight of you, your appearance confirming his worst fears. Matted hair, dried blood staining your face, bruises marring your skin – it was a gut-wrenching sight that threatened to shatter him.

As the figure of Ghostface stepped into frame, clad in the familiar mask that once represented Heeseung`s persona, his rage boiled over. "You fucker!" he shouted, his voice laced with venomous fury. Though he listened to Ghostface's speech, his attention remained fixated on you, his heart aching with the desire to protect you from the horrors you were enduring.

You didn't deserve to suffer, locked away in a basement by a deranged psychopath. He was nothing compared to the true Ghostface, the persona that Heeseung had embodied with a sense of helplessness and thrill. And Heeseung vowed, with every fiber of his being, that he would find you and ensure your safety, no matter the cost.

As Ghostface's sinister actions unfolded on the screen, Heeseung felt a surge of rage course through him like a raging inferno. The sight of you, vulnerable and in pain, ignited a primal instinct within him, urging him to take action, to protect you at any cost. His grip on the TV tightened, his knuckles turning white with the intensity of his emotions, as he fought to contain the tempest of fury that threatened to consume him.

When Ghostface, that despicable figure who dared to lay a hand on you, Heeseung's anger boiled over, reaching its breaking point. The knife pressed against your throat, the blood seeping from the wound, it was all too much for him to bear. With a guttural roar of fury, Heeseung nearly hurled the TV across the room, his muscles coiled like a tightly wound spring ready to unleash its pent-up fury.

"Come to the beginning and you'll find your precious little thing," Ghostface's words echoed in his mind, a cruel taunt that fueled Heeseung's determination to bring justice to those who dared to harm you. As the video abruptly cut off and the news anchor's voice filled the room, Heeseung's gaze hardened into icy determination.

"We can only pray for Y/n to return safely and hope that Ghostface will be taken care of," the news anchor's words were a mere backdrop to Heeseung's seething rage. With a menacing edge to his voice, Heeseung spoke, his tone laced with dark intent.

"Oh, I will make sure he will be taken care of," he muttered, his laughter carrying a sinister edge as he stalked towards his room, the crackling of his knuckles punctuating his ominous declaration. With a sense of grim purpose, Heeseung knew what he had to do. The message had been received, and Ghostface would soon learn the full extent of Heeseung's wrath.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As you struggled against the restraints, your body protesting every movement, you felt a surge of desperation overwhelming you. Ignoring the pain shooting through your limbs, you wriggled back and forth in a futile attempt to free yourself from the confines of the chair. Each movement was met with a chorus of protests from your protesting muscles, but you pressed on, driven by a primal instinct to escape.

Just as you tried to shift away from the IV stand, the sound of the door opening halted your movements. Your heart raced as you watched Ghostface enter the room once more, his presence casting a chilling shadow over the already dimly lit basement. His cold, calculating eyes locked onto yours as he approached, a syringe in his hand.

"Changed position, eh?" Ghostface remarked casually, his voice dripping with malice as he closed the distance between you. "Hey! Hey! No, keep that away from me!" you shouted, your voice trembling with desperation. Your screams of protest fell on deaf ears as he ignored your pleas, swiftly injecting the foreign substance into your arm with a zero disregard for your well-being. "There, was that so hard?"

The effects washed over you. A woozy sensation washed over you, your vision blurring as spots danced before your eyes. Your body felt weightless, disconnected from reality as the world spun around you. You tried to resist, but it was a losing battle. Before you knew it, consciousness slipped away, leaving you adrift in a sea of black.

Ghostface stood over your limp body, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he surveyed his handiwork. With a rough tug on your hair, he ensured that you were thoroughly incapacitated before cutting you loose from the chair. Hoisting your unconscious form over his shoulder, he carried you upstairs to a dimly lit living room, where he deposited you into another chair.

Methodically, he bound your wrists together behind the chair with thick ropes, ensuring that you were securely restrained. Your legs followed suit, bound tightly with more rope until any hope of escape was extinguished. With a strip of duct tape pressed firmly over your mouth, he silenced any potential cries for help, leaving you gagged and helpless.

Finally, he placed a bag over your head, shrouding you in darkness as he left you alone in the silent room.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

You stirred groggily, your senses slowly coming back to you as you regained consciousness. Pain radiated through your body, a constant reminder of the ordeal you had endured. You tried to blink away the darkness that surrounded you, but your vision remained obscured by the bag over your head. Panic welled up inside you as you realized you couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't move freely.

Your limbs felt heavy and restrained, bound tightly by the ropes that held you captive. With a muffled groan, you attempted to shift your position, but the bindings held firm, rendering your efforts futile. You could hear the faint murmur of a television in the background, the sound of a horror movie echoing through the room.

Suddenly, his voice cut through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ah, you're awake!" he taunted, though you couldn't see him. You made an attempt to respond, but the tape over your mouth silenced any words that tried to escape, all you could do was make sounds of frustration and discomfort, hoping to convey your distress. "Be quiet," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. You huffed in frustration but complied, knowing that any resistance would only lead to further punishment.

As the minutes stretched into hours, hunger gnawed at your stomach, a reminder of your long captivity. "You hungry?" he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. You nodded, a futile gesture. "Aww, that's too bad. I haven't gone shopping at all," he taunted, his words a cruel reminder that he held all the power.

Time seemed to blur together as you sat in that uncomfortable position. The absence of sound and movement only served to amplify your sense of helplessness, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable. Anger simmered beneath the surface as you struggled against your restraints, the frustration of your situation boiling over with each passing moment.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The oppressive silence was shattered by the sudden flick of a switch, followed by a deafening crash that reverberated through the room. Startled, you strained against your restraints, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope. "Show yourself!" a deep voice bellowed, the authority in its tone sending a shiver down your spine. Without a doubt, you knew it was Heeseung. He had come for you.

As you listened intently, another voice joined the fray, equally deep but tinged with a sinister edge. "Ahh, such an honor to finally meet you, Ghostface," the other Ghostface purred, his words laced with malice. "I have waited long for this opportunity for us to meet. I just wished it was under different circumstances."

"Where is she?" Heeseung's voice demanded, "She's around here," Ghostface replied cryptically, sending a chill down your spine. "But I won't let you get to her, at least not yet."

"I don't give a fuck. I don't follow your rules," Heeseung retorted, his voice dripping with defiance. "I don't want you to follow me! I want to follow you!" Ghostface exclaimed, his desperation palpable. "Please! For months, I have followed your career, seen the massacre you have left behind! And you suddenly leave all that behind for what?! For a woman that isn't worth your time?!"

You couldn't help but feel a surge of disbelief at Ghostface 2's fanaticism. "She is worth everything to me," Heeseung stated firmly, his unwavering devotion evident in his voice. Suddenly, a cry rang out, followed by the sounds of chaos—a cacophony of things falling and breaking. "I killed for you! Is this how you treat your number one fan?!" Ghostface`s voice cracked with desperation.

But Heeseung's resolve remained unyielding. "I don't care! I never asked you to do this! You simply acted out and now you hurt my girl? Yeah, I don't think so!" His voice thundered with righteous fury, punctuated by the sounds of struggle and a shout of pain.

As the chaos unfolded, you could only listen helplessly, caught in the midst of a battle between two forces—one driven by love, the other by madness.

You strained against your restraints, the muffled sounds of struggle echoing around you. Suddenly, a loud thump reverberated through the space, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. Your heart raced, and you tried to scream through the gag, unable to discern whose body had fallen.

In a swift motion, the bag covering your head was ripped away, and you squinted against the sudden onslaught of light, blinking rapidly to adjust. As your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with the Ghostface mask, but a surge of relief washed over you when you realized it was Heeseung behind it.

"Are you okay, angel? I mean… of course, you're not okay! But like, I mean… oh, forget it," Heeseung's words tumbled out in a rush, a mix of concern and relief evident in his voice. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you spoke through the gag.

"It's okay, I'm here, angel. I'm here," Heeseung reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. With gentle hands, he removed the tape from your mouth, allowing you to draw in a shaky breath. As you gasped for air, Heeseung retrieved a knife and began cutting through the ropes binding your wrists.

However, your relief was short-lived as you noticed Ghostface stirring. Panic surged through you, and you tried to warn Heeseung, but your voice came out as a hushed whisper. Sensing your fear, Heeseung swiftly rose to his feet, positioning himself protectively in front of you. With a swift movement, he placed the knife in your hand.

The room reverberated with Ghostface's chilling laughter as he rose to his feet, his deranged chuckles echoing off the walls. His laughter turned more sinister as he threw his head back, his gaze fixing on you and Heeseung. "That was a good move! Really, Ghostface! You have such raw talent… don't you agree?" he taunted, but Heeseung remained silent.

Taking advantage of the distraction, you focused on cutting yourself free from the ropes binding your wrists, the knife Heeseung had given you proving to be your lifeline. With each precise cut, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, driving you to free yourself as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Heeseung brandished a switchblade, as he prepared to defend both himself and you.

As Ghostface lunged towards Heeseung, the two engaged in a fierce struggle, their bodies colliding with force. Heeseung skillfully parried each blow, his movements fluid and calculated, but his priority remained protecting you from harm. With a sense of urgency, you worked feverishly to cut through the ropes binding your legs, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed through the pain.

Suddenly, Ghostface managed to tackle Heeseung to the ground, raining down punches upon him as he writhed beneath the onslaught. In a desperate bid to intervene, you finally succeeded in freeing yourself from the ropes and staggered to your feet, your body protesting every movement.

Your eyes widened in horror as you witnessed Ghostface raising a knife, poised to strike Heeseung. Without a second thought, you screamed out in defiance and lunged forward, driving the knife into Ghostface's back with all your strength. The assailant let out a guttural scream of agony as you twisted the blade, causing him to stumble backward in shock and pain.

Heeseung wasted no time in seizing the opportunity, swiftly rising to his feet and catching you in his arms, pulling you close to him as you leaned against his chest. "I refuse this betrayal!" Ghostface roared in fury, wrenching the knife from his back with a cry of rage. Shifting his gaze between Heeseung and you, his twisted words dripping with hatred. "This whore is nothing compared to me!" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

"She is not for you to compare, asshole!" Heeseung retorted, his voice ringing with defiance as he stood protectively in front of you.

Ghostface clutched the knife you had used to stab him, his eyes burned with fury as he lunged at Heeseung once again. But Heeseung was prepared this time. With lightning reflexes, he tackled Ghostface, the two adversaries crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and rage. They grappled fiercely, exchanging punches and kicks as they fought for dominance, the sound of their struggle echoing through the house.

Meanwhile, you stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do amidst the chaos unfolding before you. But Heeseung's urgent command snapped you out of your daze. "Y/N! Go!" he shouted. Responding instinctively, you scrambled to comply, your heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled urgency.

"Oh no you don`t!" Ghostface said, refusing to relent, lashed out with a vicious punch, striking Heeseung before seizing your ankle in a desperate attempt to impede your escape. You stumbled, falling to the ground under the force of his grip, but you refused to submit.

With a surge of determination, you kicked out fiercely, connecting with Ghostface's face with a resounding impact. He cried out in pain, his grip loosening as you scrambled away, seizing the opportunity to break free from his grasp.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scoured the nearby rooms, the sounds of the struggle in the living room serving as a sign that you were in the clear. You moved quickly, until you found yourself in the kitchen. When suddenly, the sharp report of a gunshot rang out, causing you to startle and whirl around in alarm.

Before you could react, Ghostface appeared before you, brandishing a gun. "Come on!" Relief flooded through you as you realized it was Heeseung under the mask.

Ghostface's enraged shouts reverberated through the living room, with thundering steps echoing behind you, you and Heeseung hastily retreated, seeking any means of escape from the relentless pursuit.

Turning to face the approaching threat, you and Heeseung found yourselves confronted by Ghostface, his figure bearing witness to the injury inflicted upon him by Heeseung's well-aimed shot. Despite his wounded state, Ghostface pressed on, driven by a fanatical determination to capture his prey.

"Go!" Heeseung's urgent command sliced through the chaos, accompanied by the unmistakable click of a gun being aimed. You darted forward, seeking refuge as Heeseung lifted the weapon, his steely gaze fixed on Ghostface's retreating form. But the masked assailant found cover behind the kitchen island, evading the imminent threat of gunfire.

Scanning your surroundings frantically, you dashed through the family room, your heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled desperation. Your hopes were dashed as you attempted to open the balcony door, only to find it locked tight, sealing off any chance of escape. Frustration bubbled within you as you cursed under your breath, your mind racing for an alternative route to safety.

With no time to waste, you bolted into a nearby bedroom, seeking refuge within its confines. Turning to Heeseung for reassurance, you watched as he faced Ghostface, his ammunition depleted and his stance poised for combat. In a split-second exchange, Ghostface lunged forward with a vicious stab, aiming for Heeseung's form.

"No!" Your anguished cry echoed through the room as you witnessed the violent clash between the two adversaries. Heeseung's swift reflexes saved him from a direct blow, but the knife still found its mark, leaving a deep gash across his arm. With a pained grunt, Heeseung retaliated, delivering a forceful kick that sent Ghostface sprawling to the ground.

As the intense struggle continued, Ghostface seized Heeseung's leg, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. With swift precision, Ghostface climbed on top of Heeseung, raining down a barrage of punches upon him. Heeseung grunted in pain, his muscles straining as he attempted to defend himself against the relentless assault. In a desperate bid for control, Heeseung managed to reverse their positions, landing a series of powerful punches of his own before Ghostface retaliated, once again gaining the upper hand.

Meanwhile, you scanned the room for any potential weapon to aid in your escape. Your eyes landed on a wooden cutting board nearby, and without hesitation, you seized it, preparing for action. With determination fueling your movements, you swung the cutting board with all your strength, striking Ghostface squarely in the head. A sharp cry of pain echoed through the room as Ghostface staggered, momentarily stunned by the unexpected blow. Seizing the opportunity, Heeseung swiftly extricated himself from beneath Ghostface's grasp, urging you to flee with him.

Racing toward the front door, hope flickered within you as the possibility of escape loomed tantalizingly close. However, your relief was short-lived as a sudden jolt of agony pierced through your body, sending you crashing to the ground. As you struggled to comprehend the source of the pain, Heeseung turned back to you in alarm, only to be met with the chilling realization of your plight.

"I did it!" Ghostface's triumphant declaration pierced the air, his sinister presence looming behind you. You were violently pulled upright, as a surge of pain shot through you. With horrifying clarity, you realized that Ghostface had thrown a dagger at you, the searing pain in your back confirming the deadly accuracy of his aim. Tears welled in your eyes as you cried out in anguish, the agony of the wound searing through your senses.

"You motherfucker!" Heeseung's enraged voice reverberated through the room. Yet, the threat of the dagger pressed against your throat silenced any further action from Heeseung. Frozen in place, Heeseung stood helplessly.

Heeseung's trembling hands betrayed the fierce restraint he exercised, his entire being a coiled spring of tension as he struggled to contain his mounting fury. "Take off the mask," Ghostface's sudden command sliced through the air, demanding compliance with chilling authority. "What?" Heeseung's voice wavered with disbelief his gaze locked with Ghostface's behind the menacing mask.

"You heard me. I wanna see you. I wanna see my idol," Ghostface persisted, his grip tightening on your arm as he began to pull you along. With each step, the ache of your injuries throbbed relentlessly, but you forced yourself to endure, your resolve unyielding even as pain threatened to overwhelm you. As Ghostface ascended the stairs, dragging you along in his wake, Heeseung followed closely behind, his every movement fraught with tension.

"I went through all this effort! I mean, the bitch stabbed me, I had to quit soccer, kill my parents when they started to suspect! And the dot over the i was I had to hit your little angel here with my car! I mean, that car costed more than herself!"

His words hung heavy in the air, a chilling testament to the lengths he had gone to fulfill his twisted desires. But it was his admission of hitting you with his car that sent a shockwave of horror coursing through your veins. The memories flooded back in a torrent of images and sensations, the screeching tires, the sickening impact, the overwhelming darkness that followed.

Heeseung's reaction was visceral, his incredulous rage boiling over as he struggled to comprehend the depths of Ghostface's depravity. "You what!?!?" his voice rang out.

In a fit of unbridled fury, Heeseung lunged forward, his muscles coiled with tension as he prepared to unleash his pent-up wrath upon Ghostface. But just as his outstretched hands reached for Ghostface's throat, the masked assailant yelped in genuine fear, his reflexes kicking in as he swiftly pulled you with him, narrowly evading Heeseung's vicious assault.

The sheer velocity of his movements sent a shiver down your spine as you watched the scene unfold before you, the knife held perilously close to your throat. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Heeseung's gaze snapped to the spot where Ghostface now stood with you, after barely managing to dodge his attack, his fists clenched.

With a sharp intake of breath, Heeseung reeled back. Though the urge to lash out still simmered beneath the surface, he knew that his priority now was ensuring your safety, no matter the cost. And with a heavy sigh, Heeseung reluctantly acquiesced, raising his arms in resignation as he shed his hood and removed the mask, revealing his bruised and bloodied face beneath. Relief flooded through you at the sight of his familiar features, a stark contrast to the chilling facade of the Ghostface mask he wore.

But any semblance of comfort was shattered by Ghostface's chilling words, his laughter a haunting echo in the empty corridors. "Well.. well... well. If it isn't Lee Heeseung..." His voice dripped with malice, each word laced with contempt. "You know! Now that I think about it! You are really the perfect Ghostface! I can't believe I didn't see it before!"

Heeseung's response was a silent glare, his features twisted in a mask of restrained fury. But as Ghostface's attention remained fixed on Heeseung, you seized the opportunity for action. With a surge of adrenaline, you launched a swift kick at Ghostface's shin, causing him to yelp in pain and drop the knife he had been brandishing menacingly.

As the knife clattered to the ground, a familiar glint caught your eye—a flash of recognition amidst the chaos. It was the butterfly knife that Heeseung had gifted you, now tarnished with blood. Without hesitation, you snatched it up in your hand, gripping it.

Heeseung wasted no time with you free from Ghostface`s grip, he seized your hand. propelling you forward as he led the charge down the hallway. Behind you, Ghostface's enraged cries echoed through the corridors, a cacophony of curses and threats that fueled your desperate flight to safety.

Your feet stumbled over the uneven floor as you raced to escape the looming threat of Ghostface. The hallway stretched endlessly before you, the walls seeming to close in with each passing second, amplifying the urgency of your flight.

Finally, Heeseung burst through the door of an open room, dragging you inside before swiftly slamming it shut behind you.

As the room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the sound of your pounding heart, Heeseung swiftly moved to lock the door, his hands trembling with urgency. The metal handle rattled violently as Ghostface exerted force from the other side, his relentless assault threatening to breach the flimsy barrier between safety and chaos. Heeseung's shock was palpable as he stared at the quivering door, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and determination.

While Heeseung grappled with the imminent threat at the door, your gaze swept across the room in search of any means of escape. The bedroom offered little in terms of refuge, its modest furnishings offering no sanctuary from the looming danger. You glanced out the window, but the sight of the daunting drop to the ground below dissuaded any thoughts of escape via that route.

Suddenly, the thundering assault on the door ceased, replaced by an eerie quiet that sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly retreated, pulling you close as a deafening gunshot echoed through the room. The door handle shattered under the force of the bullet, sending wooden splinters flying as the door swung open, the lock rendered useless by Ghostface's firepower.

Heeseung's gasp of alarm prompted swift action as he dove, dragging you with him, to take cover behind the bed. The bed provided little protection from the onslaught, and you screamed as each shot rang out, the sound reverberating in your ears.

As the gun clicked empty, Ghostface cursed under his breath, the frustration evident in his voice as he fumbled for more ammunition. In that fleeting moment of respite, you blinked, and with a sudden burst of movement, Heeseung launched himself over the bed, his form a blur as he collided with Ghostface in a whirlwind of violence.

The two figures grappled on the floor again. Punches were thrown with reckless abandon. Rolling and tumbling across the floor, they fought tooth and nail, locked in a deadly dance of survival.

In a desperate bid for freedom, you seized the fleeting opportunity and bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins. But as you raced down the hallway, the sudden eruption of gunshots and Heeseung's unmistakable yell pierced through the chaos, freezing you in your tracks. You whirled around in shock, only to find Ghostface charging towards you with menacing determination, his voice echoing with malice as he closed in.

"There's no escape, sweetheart!" His taunting words echoed through the air, sending shivers down your spine as you continued to flee. But despite your efforts, Ghostface swiftly caught up to you, his iron grip seizing hold of you and slamming you forcefully onto the unforgiving ground. Panic surged through you as his hands closed around your neck, squeezing the life out of you with merciless force. "You've been a thorn in my side for too long! This ends now!" he growled.

Desperation fueled your fight as you kicked and thrashed against him, your cries muffled by the crushing pressure of his hands. Tears blurred your vision as you gasped for precious air, the suffocating grip of Ghostface tightening with each passing moment. "Get off!" you choked out, your voice raw with anguish as the world spun around you. "I can't wait to see the life draining from your eyes," he hissed.

Just when it seemed all hope was lost, a sudden roar echoed through the air, and the weight of Ghostface was abruptly lifted from you. Gasping for breath, you watched through tear-streaked eyes as Heeseung launched himself at Ghostface, the two figures crashing through the railing of the stairs down to the first floor, the sound of their bodies hitting the floor echoing in your ears.

"Heeseung!" you rasped, your voice barely a whisper as you staggered down the stairs, your limbs trembling. At the bottom, you found them both lying motionless amidst the wreckage of shattered wood, their bodies battered and broken from the fall.

With trembling hands and a racing heart, you made it down beside Heeseung, the urgency of the moment driving you forward. You checked his pulse, relief washing over you as you felt the reassuring thump under your fingertips. He was alive. Alive and here, with you. "Please, Heeseung, stay with me! Stay with me, baby!" you pleaded, your voice quivering with fear and desperation as you caressed his cheek, willing him to awaken.

Your attention shifted to the bleeding wounds from the gunshot, adrenaline surging as you swiftly removed the Ghostface costume from his body. Beneath the facade of terror, Heeseung was clad in simple jeans and a bloodied sweater, his peaceful face a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding you. Thinking quickly, you applied pressure to his wounds, your mind racing with fear and determination.

Just then, groans pierced the air, and you looked up to see Ghostface slowly rising. Panic surged through you, your heart pounding as you clung to Heeseung, shielding him with your body. As Ghostface turned toward you, his chilling words sent a shiver down your spine. "Well… I have to give it to you, Y/n… you not only survived Heeseung, but you also made him risk his life for you… good job," he remarked, as he stepped away from you.

Your shock quickly turned to terror as Ghostface returned quickly with a kitchen knife in hand, his intent clear. "I'll make this quick while Heeseung is still down," he declared, lunging forward in an attempt to grab you. With a surge of adrenaline, you evaded his grasp, your instincts driving you to flee. "Don't make this harder, Y/n!" he shouted after you as you dashed away, his menacing presence lingering in the air like a chilling specter of doom.

As you bolted down the dimly lit hallway, your heart thundered in your chest, each beat urging you forward in a frantic bid for escape. Behind you, the echoing footsteps of Ghostface followed ominously, driving you to push your trembling legs to their limits.

With every turn, you found yourself met with locked doors and barred windows, each obstacle serving as a grim reminder of your dire circumstances. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind as you desperately searched for any means of escape.

In a blur of motion, you careened into a deserted living room, the musty air heavy with the oppressive weight of fear. The dim glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls like specters of the night.

As you scanned the room for a way out, your eyes fell upon a set of double doors leading to a balcony. With a surge of hope, you rushed towards them, your fingers grasping at the cold metal handle in a desperate attempt to break free from the suffocating confines of the house.

But your hopes were dashed as you found the doors locked tight, the cruel reality of your situation crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. Frantically, you rattled the handle, the sound of your pounding heart drowning out the desperate pleas for salvation that echoed in your mind.

Behind you, Ghostface drew closer, looming like a specter in the darkness. With each passing moment, the gap between you narrowed, his chilling laughter ringing in your ears like a death knell.

Forced to abandon the balcony as a means of escape, you turned and bolted down another hallway, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridors as you fled from the encroaching darkness that pursued you relentlessly.

As you ran, you could feel the tendrils of exhaustion creeping in, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your muscles screamed in protest. Yet, driven by sheer instinct and the primal urge to survive, you pressed on.

With every passing second, the house seemed to close in around you, its labyrinthine halls twisting and turning like a maze designed to ensnare the unwary. Yet, through sheer grit and determination, you fought against the suffocating grip of despair, refusing to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you whole.

In a desperate bid for survival, you ducked into a cluttered study, the musty scent of old books filling the air as you scanned the room for a means of escape. But before you could react, Ghostface burst through the doorway.

With lightning reflexes, you dodged his initial lunge, the sharp edge of the blade grazing your shoulder as you stumbled backward. Ignoring the searing pain, you seized upon the nearest object—a heavy desk lamp—and swung it with all your might, the metal base connecting with Ghostface's arm with a sickening thud.

With a cry of pain, he recoiled, momentarily stunned by the force of the blow. Seizing the opportunity, you darted past him, racing down the hallway, the echoes of his enraged shouts echoing in your wake.

But Ghostface was relentless, his footsteps thundering behind you as you rounded a corner, you stumbled upon a small alcove, its shelves lined with an assortment of knick-knacks and trinkets. Without hesitation, you seized upon a porcelain vase, its delicate form offering little resistance as you hurled it at Ghostface with all your might.

The vase shattered upon impact, sending a spray of ceramic shards cascading through the air as Ghostface recoiled, you darted past him once more, heart pounding in your chest as you raced towards the nearest exit.

As you ran towards the front where you had left Heeseung, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation, you heard a sickening crunch from behind you. With a jolt, you turned around, your eyes widening in shock as you witnessed Heeseung swinging the wooden cutting board with all his might, striking Ghostface squarely in the face. The force of the blow caused Ghostface to stumble backward, dropping the knife in the process.

Frozen in place, you watched in disbelief as Heeseung grabbed a machete from seemingly nowhere, his expression resolute as he raised it high, ready to deliver a fatal blow. Before you could react, you shouted out, "No!"

But it was too late. With a swift motion, Heeseung brought the machete down, aiming directly at Ghostface. However, instead of slashing, the blade pierced through the cloak of Ghostface, slicing through the fabric and embedding itself into the wooden floor below.

Your eyes widened in shock as Heeseung collapsed, the exertion of the fight taking its toll on him. Without hesitation, you rushed to his side, holding him close as you called out his name desperately. Heeseung's breathing was slow and labored, his gaze still fixed on Ghostface with a fierce intensity.

Turning your attention to Ghostface, you watched as Heeseung stretched out his trembling hand and tore off the mask, revealing the face beneath. In that moment, everything seemed to freeze as the weight of the truth settled upon you.

It was Taehyung....

How could you have been so blind? How could you have missed the signs, the subtle clues that now seemed glaringly obvious?

With a mix of relief and horror, you held onto Heeseung, gently cradling his head, your heart aching at the sight of him wounded and exhausted.

As you slowly helped Heeseung up, his weight leaning heavily on you, you both made your way to the front door, as you reached out to try the door handle, the cruel reality of your situation slammed into you. Locked.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, frustration and desperation clawing at your throat. Casting a quick glance around the house, your eyes settled on a room, a potential source of salvation. "I'll be right back," you promised Heeseung, guiding him to a corner where he could rest against the wall.

Limping toward the room, every step a painful reminder of the ordeal you had endured, you scanned the space for something—anything—that could break down the door. Just as you were about to return with your makeshift weapon, the air was pierced by the sound of yelling and shouting, a cacophony of rage and desperation.

Heart pounding, you hurried back to the scene, but what you found was beyond your worst nightmares. Both Taehyung and Heeseung were gone, leaving behind only pools of blood and the gleaming machete on the floor. "Heeseung?!" you cried out, the word tearing from your throat like a desperate plea.

Instead, the sound of glass shattering drew your attention to the back of the house. Racing through the living room to the family room, you skidded to a halt at the shattered backdoor, where Taehyung and Heeseung were locked in a vicious struggle amidst a sea of broken glass.

Taehyung's face was a mask of fury and pain, his features twisted with anger and resentment, while Heeseung's own visage bore the marks of battle, blood trickling from a wound on his head. They traded blows, each punch a symphony of violence and determination, as they fought tooth and nail for their lives.

"You are not worthy of bearing the mask!" Taehyung's voice echoed through the chaos, his words dripping with venom. Heeseung's response was swift and furious, his own voice ringing out with defiance. "It's not about being worthy! It's about coverage, you son of a bitch!"

As you tried to make your way through the chaotic opening, your eyes widened in shock as you witnessed Heeseung's desperate move. Gripping a jagged chunk of broken glass, he drove it mercilessly through Taehyung's stomach, the latter's cry of surprise piercing the air. Taehyung staggered back, clutching the shard tightly in disbelief, his eyes darting between the blood-soaked glass and Heeseung's face, a mixture of shock and fury contorting his features.

Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the scene unfolded before you, the violence and brutality of it all threatening to overwhelm your senses. But in the midst of the chaos, you failed to realize the danger looming perilously close to you.

Taehyung, his gaze ablaze with a twisted resolve, caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye. "I may never be worthy of your praise… but I'm at least not going down alone," he spat, his voice dripping with venomous intent.

With a sudden whirl of motion, Taehyung pulled out the glass shard, his movements fueled by a primal desperation, and lunged toward you with a bloodcurdling scream. The other end of the shard found its mark, plunging into your stomach with a searing pain that radiated through every fiber of your being. "No!" Heeseung's anguished cry echoed in your ears as he rushed to your side, catching you before you could collapse to the ground.

"Y/n! Baby! Stay with me, please!" Heeseung's voice was raw with emotion as he cradled your head in his trembling hands. Through the haze of agony, you struggled to focus, your vision blurred as tears stung your eyes. All around you, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the cold, indifferent gaze of the night sky above.

As Heeseung desperately pleaded for you to stay awake, his words echoed faintly in the recesses of your mind. "Please, baby! Angel, don't close your eyes!" His voice trembled with anguish, each syllable a desperate plea to keep you tethered to consciousness. But the world around you seemed to blur into an indistinct haze, and you struggled to focus through the fog of pain and exhaustion.

The chill of the night air seeped into your skin, a biting reminder of the harsh reality surrounding you. With a delirious gaze, you tried to meet Heeseung's eyes, but the blurriness that clouded your vision thwarted your attempts. All you could manage were shallow breaths, each inhalation laced with a searing ache that radiated from the wound in your stomach.

In a feeble attempt to alleviate your suffering, you weakly pushed against Heeseung's hands as he sought to tend to your wound. "No, please!" His voice cracked with emotion as he persisted, hastily wrapping the wound with his sweater, the fabric stained with a grim mosaic of dirt and blood. The pristine white of your angelic dress had long been tainted, obscured by the grim realities of the night's ordeal.

The last semblance of awareness flickered within you as you registered a primal snarl echoing through the darkness, followed by the sensation of Heeseung's warm hands slipping away from your skin. And then, like a veil descending over your senses, darkness enveloped you, swallowing you whole in its unfathomable depths.

In that silent void, devoid of sensation or perception, you floated in a state of limbo. Time ceased to hold any meaning, and you drifted aimlessly, suspended between the realms of life and death. Was this the end, the culmination of your journey? In the quiet expanse of the void, you pondered the elusive nature of mortality, wondering if this was indeed the final chapter of your existence.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

As consciousness gradually seeped back into your being, you felt the weight of your entire body, as if every limb was burdened by a heavy weariness. Slowly, tentatively, you blinked your eyes open, greeted by the sterile whiteness of a ceiling. Confusion clouded your thoughts momentarily, casting a veil over your senses as you struggled to comprehend your surroundings.

Your gaze drifted downward, and to your astonishment, you found yourself confined to a hospital bed, ensnared by a web of tubes and IV lines tethering you to the medical apparatus. An oxygen mask obscured part of your face, its presence a reminder of the fragility of your existence. Squinting against the harsh glare of the hospital lights, you turned your head slightly, your eyes alighting upon the heart monitor stationed beside you.

But amidst the bewildering array of medical equipment, your gaze was drawn to a familiar sight—an unmistakable tuft of hair that stirred a surge of recognition within you. Heeseung. The name reverberated through your mind, a whisper of clarity amidst the fog of uncertainty. He lay beside you, clad in hospital attire, his form relaxed in slumber as he clasped your hand in his, a silent vigil of unwavering devotion.

A swell of emotion welled within you as you beheld his peaceful countenance, a silent guardian standing sentinel by your bedside. Despite the chaos that had besieged you both, he remained steadfast in his resolve, a beacon of strength and solace in the midst of turmoil. The sight of him stirred a profound sense of gratitude and affection within you, flooding your heart with a warmth that transcended the sterile confines of the hospital room.

As you attempted to move, the realization dawned upon you that you were restrained, bound by invisible chains that restricted your movements. A soft groan escaped your lips, a testament to your frustration and discomfort. However, that small sound was enough to rouse Heeseung from his slumber. Blinking his eyes open, he stirred and sat up, his gaze immediately fixating on you.

Fading bruises adorned his face, serving as a reminder of the extended time you had spent in this hospital bed. It became evident that you had been confined here for a considerable period.

Heeseung's eyes filled with tears of relief as his gaze locked onto yours. His whole face seemed to light up at the sight of you awake, his emotions overflowing as he reached for your hand. "Y/n!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with emotion as he pressed gentle kisses to your hand. It was as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, his relief palpable as he visibly relaxed in your presence.

Struggling to find your voice, you attempted to utter his name, but your throat felt dry and parched. Heeseung seemed to understand your silent plea, and with gentle care, he rose from the bed, his movements fueled by a sense of urgency. Finding a bottle of water, he quickly opened it, offering you a reprieve from your thirst.

With tender precision, he adjusted your oxygen mask, allowing you to drink. The cool liquid washed over your parched throat, a refreshing sensation that brought tears to your eyes. It had been days, perhaps weeks, since you last had a drink, and the simple act of quenching your thirst felt like a luxury.

As you drank, Heeseung watched you with a mixture of love and concern, his gaze softening as he witnessed your relief. Once you had finished, he carefully replaced your oxygen mask, settling back beside you with a smile. His eyes were filled with an overwhelming sense of adoration as he regarded you.

"My strong angel," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he praised your resilience. You returned his smile, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that existed between you. However, as the memories of your time spent unconscious flooded back, a question lingered on your lips.

"How long have I been here?" you inquired, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Heeseung's expression darkened slightly, a grimace crossing his features as he scratched his neck in discomfort. "Three weeks," he muttered, his tone heavy with regret.

"And Taehyung?" you asked, the name leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you uttered it. Heeseung's expression mirrored your unease, his features tensing slightly in response to the mention of Taehyung's name. "He's… gone," he replied somberly, confirming your suspicions. "He… is?" you questioned further, seeking confirmation from Heeseung. With a solemn nod, he affirmed Taehyung's fate.

"Did you kill him?" you inquired, surprised by your own nonchalant tone. Heeseung seemed taken aback by your question, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he nodded silently in response. A sense of calm washed over you, a strange relief settling in your heart. Under normal circumstances, you would never condone taking another's life, but in this instance, Taehyung had brought you nothing but suffering and pain. The thought of his demise brought you no remorse.

Heeseung had been your salvation, your protector amidst the chaos. His actions, though violent, were driven by a sense of duty and love for you. In contrast, Taehyung had succumbed to darkness, consumed by his relentless pursuit of approval from Heeseung. His descent into madness had left him irredeemable, a shadow of the person he once was.

In that moment, as you locked eyes with Heeseung, you knew that you had found your sanctuary, a haven from the storms that had ravaged your life. And as he returned your gaze with a love-struck expression, you felt a warmth spread through your being.

"What about Ghostface?" you inquired, seeking closure on the ordeal that had plagued your life.

Heeseung's response was swift and confident, his voice laced with assurance. "It's all taken care of, angel. They have no evidence," he assured you, his words bringing a sense of relief to your troubled mind.

As you nodded in gratitude, Heeseung's gaze softened, his thoughts drifting to a conversation you had shared earlier. "I was thinking about what you said… at my house," he began, prompting your curiosity.

Instantly, the memory flooded back to you, and you understood the weight of his words. "I do trust you, Angel… it's just, I didn't have much control over my life when my mother was around," he confessed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "And my father wasn't much help… I was at my limit, I couldn't take it anymore. Everything was too much, but I found my solace by hiding behind a mask… like a coward," he admitted, his tone heavy with remorse.

He let out a sigh, his gaze falling momentarily before meeting yours once again. "And I thought… why should I be the only one to suffer? And my road took me down a dark path which I regret… and I thought there was no saving me. Until you came," he confessed, his voice softer now, filled with vulnerability.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, prompting Heeseung to continue. "You became my new solace, Angel… and suddenly life was worth living," he admitted, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. "Without you, I'm helpless, lost, misguided. I need you in my life. You are my oxygen, without you I'll go crazy," he confessed, his lips pressing gently against the back of your hand as he spoke.

As Heeseung gazed into your eyes with an intensity that made your heart flutter, he uttered those words that you had been longing to hear. "Y/n… be my girlfriend, please? Officially? Let me be your boyfriend, my love," he pleaded, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity.

Your heart ached with a mixture of joy and relief as you nodded in response. "I will be your girlfriend," you confirmed, your voice barely a whisper as emotions surged within you.

Heeseung leaned over you, his movements gentle and deliberate as he lowered your oxygen mask, allowing you both to share a kiss that was filled with all the love and devotion that had blossomed between you. It began slowly, a tender exploration of each other's lips, but soon ignited into a passionate exchange as the depth of your feelings poured into the intimate gesture.

As you pulled back, breathless and overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, Heeseung's eyes held a silent question, one that you answered with a nod of consent. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the bed beside you.

With a nod, you granted him permission, and Heeseung carefully climbed beside you, settling himself close as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. He adjusted your oxygen mask with gentle hands, his touch comforting and reassuring as he leaned his head against your chest, finding solace in the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You began to play with his hair, relishing in the softness of his locks beneath your fingertips. You noticed the stitches on his head, with a pang of guilt for the pain he had endured on your behalf, you traced the lines of his stitches with tender care.

As the rhythmic sound of his breathing filled the room, you felt yourself drifting into a peaceful slumber, cradled in the warmth of his love. And as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

After weeks of healing in the hospital, your miraculous recovery became the talk of the town. News of your awakening spread like wildfire, making headlines in newspapers and capturing the attention of the entire community. The tale of your survival, coupled with the bravery of your boyfriend, Heeseung, captivated the hearts of many.

Within the span of a single day, the story of your ordeal unfolded across social media platforms and news outlets. The community rallied behind you, celebrating your resilience. The truth about Ghostface's demise emerged, revealing that you and Heeseung had acted in self-defense, bringing an end to the reign of terror that had plagued your lives.

As the days passed, the mystery surrounding the original Ghostface's disappearance and apparent retirement only added to the intrigue of the tale. Speculations and theories abounded, but one thing remained certain—Ghostface had become a mere legacy, a chapter in history buried beneath the weight of your survival and newfound strength.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Under the somber light of the setting sun, Heeseung stood in the forest. In his hands, he held a small wooden box containing his Ghostface costume. With a solemn expression, he carefully dug a hole in the earth, the shovel scraping against the soil.

With a heavy heart, Heeseung placed the box into the ground, covering it with soil as if burying the ghosts of the past. He stood there for a moment, silent and contemplative, bidding farewell to the shadows that had haunted him for so long.

Meanwhile, you stood a little distance away, giving him the space he needed to say his farewells.

After a moment, Heeseung walked back to where you stood, his expression softened by the warmth of your presence. As you held out your hand to him, he took it without hesitation.

"Ready?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle reassurance. Heeseung nodded, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering resolve. "Ready," he affirmed, his hand tightening around yours as you walked away from the gravesite.

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

You laid comfortably on the couch, munching on popcorn as the horror movie played on the TV screen. When a jump scare startled you, you instinctively hid your face in your boyfriend's shoulder, seeking comfort from the sudden fright. Heeseung, lying beside you, wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

"Are you okay, angel?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. You looked up at him, pouting slightly, as he smirked back at you. "I'm fine, thank you very much," you replied, turning your attention back to the movie. But Heeseung gently lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze. "You sure?" he pressed, refusing to let you off easily.

You nodded, trying to reassure him, but he held your jaw firmly. "Words, princess," he insisted. With a sigh, you repeated, "I'm fine." He hummed in response, leaning in as if to kiss you. Anticipating the kiss, you leaned forward too, but he merely snagged some popcorn kernels from your bowl, earning a playful protest from you.

"Hey, my popcorn!" you exclaimed, trying to snatch it back. He dodged your attempts, prompting you to climb onto his lap in pursuit. "Woah!" he exclaimed in surprise as you succeeded in reclaiming your snack, eating it with a smug expression.

But your victory was short-lived as you felt Heeseung's hands on your hips, causing you to look down and realize your position on his lap. His gaze was appreciative as he leaned back, admiring you with a lazy expression. "You look so good like that, angel," he murmured, his hands tracing patterns on your waist and hips.

"Don't get used to it," you warned, attempting to climb off his lap. However, Heeseung had other plans, easily pulling you back down with a playful smirk.

You looked down at Heeseung, confusion evident in your expression as you wondered what was going on in his mind. "What is this?" you asked, unsure of his intentions.

Heeseung's gaze softened as he looked up at you, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you as my girlfriend," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

Feeling your cheeks flush with warmth, you looked away shyly, unable to contain the flutter of emotions in your chest. But before you could gather your thoughts, Heeseung suddenly pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

Giggles bubbled from your lips as you both rolled on the couch, caught up in the playful moment. Heeseung showered you with kisses, peppering your face with affectionate gestures that elicited more laughter from you. "Stoooop!" you protested between giggles, squirming in his grasp as you tried to escape his playful onslaught.

But Heeseung showed no signs of relenting, his laughter blending with yours as he continued to shower you with affection. "Never!" he declared playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he held you close.

You managed to wriggle out of Heeseung's tight grip and quickly scrambled to the other side of the couch, putting some distance between the two of you. But when you glanced back, you saw Heeseung following after you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his lips curved into a playful smirk. "Trying to run from me, angel?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

With a laugh, you climbed over the armrest of the couch and dashed through the house, the sound of your laughter echoing in the air.

Boxes from your recent move lay scattered around, adding an obstacle course-like challenge to your playful chase. "Just try and catch me, babe!" you called out teasingly as Heeseung chased after you, the thrill of the chase filling the air with excitement.

The house was soon filled with the cheerful melody of your laughter as Heeseung finally managed to catch up to you. With a mischievous grin, he began tickling you, eliciting joyful protests and giggles from you. "Heeseung!" you laughed, squirming under his touch. "Stop, please! I yield!"

Heeseung relented, pulling back with a satisfied grin, but then he lifted you up and settled back onto the couch, holding you close in his arms. "I caught you, I deserve a prize, don't I?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he tapped his cheek playfully, silently requesting a kiss.

"I think you do," you replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss his cheek. But he turned at the last moment, catching your lips in a sweet, unexpected kiss. You smiled at his playful behavior, returning the kiss with equal affection as you melted into his embrace.

As Heeseung maneuvered you effortlessly, you found yourself lying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his lips never leaving yours. Your hands slipped up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as the intensity of the kiss deepened. With one hand supporting his weight above you, Heeseung's other hand began to explore, trailing a path from your chest down to your waist, then to your hip and thigh, mapping out every curve of your body with a gentle touch that sent shivers down your spine. As his hand returned to grip your waist, you couldn't help but gasp, granting him permission to deepen the kiss further.

Heeseung's lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, his kiss a tantalizing blend of passion and desire that left you breathless. Eventually, he pulled back, allowing both of you to catch your breath. You took in deep lungfuls of air as you gazed up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and affection.

"Stop looking at me like that," you told him, your voice breathy and soft. "Like what?" Heeseung asked innocently, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Like I'm food," you explained, a hint of playful annoyance in your tone.

A smirk played on Heeseung's lips as he bit down on his bottom lip, his gaze dropping to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. "Well, maybe I'm hungry," he replied, his voice low and husky with desire.

As Heeseung's lips melded with yours in a fervent embrace, the world around you seemed to fade into oblivion. His kisses grew increasingly desperate, a reflection of the burning need that coursed through his veins, igniting every fiber of your being with an intensity that left you breathless.

With each tender caress of his lips, Heeseung worshipped every inch of your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hands roamed with a purposeful urgency, tracing the curves of your form with an almost reverent touch as he whispered words of adoration and praise against your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed kisses along the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "I can't get enough of you." His words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a primal desire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

In the heat of the moment, all inhibitions melted away as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of his touch.

"You're my one and only," Heeseung confessed, his words a solemn vow that resonated deep within your soul.

As you and Heeseung shared passionate kisses on the couch, little did you know that nestled within his sock drawer lay a small velvet box, its contents a secret that he held close to his heart. Inside rested a symbol of his deepest commitment, a ring that he planned to reveal to you at the perfect moment, a moment that would signify his unwavering love and devotion to you.

For now, the box remained hidden, a precious treasure waiting to be unveiled when the time was right. As you melted into each other's embrace, lost in the bliss of the present moment, Heeseung's thoughts drifted to the future, to the day when he would kneel before you and ask for your hand in marriage, sealing your love for eternity.

But until then, he cherished these stolen moments with you, savoring every kiss and every touch as a testament to the deep bond that they shared.

The End

(or is it?)

#enhypen fic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung x you #heeseung x reader #heeseung #heesung enhypen #lee heeseung #ao3 writer #fanfiction #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enha #enha x reader #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x y/n

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valexformula1 · 1 year

Text

Electricity - DR3

Request: No

Summary: Reader and Daniel being fools for each other but not confessing after Daniel heard Lewis is gonna ask reader out

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x best friend!reader

Word Count: 1323

Warnings: little sad and fluff, house moving, Daniel and reader being a pair of fools for ice cream, cursing

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song electricity of Silk City, Dua Lipa. Don’t be a ghost reader, it took me a while to write in it.

1996

At your 7 years you got to move from your country because your father got a job offer at Perth, Australia, you got to admin it was scary at first, moving from Peru to Australia was not easy especially when it was a different idiom, people, school, basically everything. Your mother died when you were 4, so it has been you and your dad only until you meet him.

Your dad was a mechanic engineer, and he was working at the Australia track when you meet him.

It was a very hotness Wednesday when you were looking around for your dad since you got lost looking the other cars when suddenly him bumped you, a pretty boy with big brown eyes and a cheeky smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t see where I was going”

“Sorry too, are you okey? ” he said cheking on you to see if you were fine

“Yep, I’m y/n by the way”

“I’m Daniel, nice to meet you” he said shaking hands with you “Come on, let’s go for some ice cream”

Before you could answer he was already running and holding your hand, so you could follow him.

Since that you and him start to hang more and more becoming best friends, you attending to his races and him been for you in every broken heart.

2011

When I'm with you

Ooh, baby

Giving up my ghost for you

“Gosh Daniel, I’m so proud of you debuting for F1” you said

“What you think about the race?” he replied

“That someone is getting an F1 seat soon”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely, you’ll see”

“Thanks, changing theme” he said looking behind you “where is Michael?”

“He isn’t coming, actually he isn’t coming anymore we split out, think it wasn’t meant to be”

“What? Why? You okey?”

“Yep, we just wanted different things” you said trying to recover the reality “come on let’s go for some ice cream” you said grabbing his hand.

The truth was that Micheal want to call it quits since he saw how much time you spend with Daniel and you attending to the race and cancelling your date 3 days before was the straw that broke the camel's back.

He told you that it was clear you and Daniel were in love, so he broke up with you, you didn’t agree with him saying that you got a thing for Daniel when it wasn’t he was your best friend that was all.

2021

All I see is you, lately

Wide awake and in my dreams

I see your face so vividly

I don't know what I'd do

Ooh, baby

If you only saw a friend in me

I'd be bittersweet

That casual kiss on my cheek would have meant nothing up until recently, every time that you saw, hug or touch Daniel there was a feeling, a feeling in your stomach.

This started to happen since that GP 2 years ago when he wins, you watch him get off the stage to hug you and since then you could stop thinking about him.

Now you weren’t dumb you knew what it meant, but it didn’t matter, today you decided to give it a shot and tell him after the race.

“Hey Dan, congrats on p4” you said after entering on his driver's room

“Thanks y/n” okey it was now or never

“So, I want to tell you something” said both of you

“Go ahead” he said

“No, you” you said thinking he would say what you think it was, was it that he felt the same? He also likes you ?

“Well, I meet this pretty girl yesterday and I ask her to go on a date tomorrow” he said smiling

After that you learn that online date apps were not that bad at all.

2022

I know you've been treating, treating yourself wrong

So let me care for you

Ooh, baby

I'ma love you differently

I'll give you electricity

“Hey, you wanna grab some ice cream?” you said to him after he opens the door of the hotel

Everybody knew Daniel wasn’t having the time of his life this season with Mclaren treating him like shit.

“Thank but not in the mood” he says a little sad

“What’s wrong?” you could feel something was not fine

“Imleavingmclaren” he whispered

“What?” you replied confused

“I’m leaving Mclaren y/n” he said more loud this time with tears in his eyes

This past few weeks Daniel was the center of attention on the paddock but not for a good reason, everyone wanted to know where he was going to go or do after the news. Daniel started to push everyone, fake smiling all the time, there wasn’t that smile that you saw years ago anymore, he started to lose weight and cancelled to your friend dates.

“Daniel, talk to me” you beg, this week you found out Daniel wasn’t eating

“I am fine”

“No you’re not, you being skipping foods”

“Just wasn’t hungry, that’s all”

“What about our Wednesdays of ice cream that you seem to skip now” you replied a little angry now

“Busy”

“Daniel Joseph Ricciardo stop it, I know you since we were 7, and I know you are not fine, and it’s okey not being fine sometimes” you said now hugging him

“It’s just too much for me right now, I feel like my life doesn’t matter anymore, I feel lost” he cried

“You’re going to be fine, let me care for you ”

2023

I feel electric, baby

So electric, baby

Wanna let you know, let you know

I think I'm ready, baby

I think I'm ready, now

It was the Australia GP and you decided to go see it with Daniel, that night at the hotel he started to feel better, it has been a tough way, but now he was the third driver of Red Bull Racing, and he had enough time for Wednesdays of Ice cream.

“Hey Seb, how retiring treating you?”

“Very good, where is your lovebird?”

“Not my lovebird”

“Come on y/n, you two are bound to one another, you always have been, and I know he feels the same”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think he feels the same way” you replied

“Who? Daniel?” said Hanna joining the conversation “he is a fool for you”

“Yep but y/n says he is not” Seb said telling his wife the context

“I even thought you were dating, there is no way he doesn’t” she said

“Yeah, well he doesn’t” you said

Max has won the Australia GP, and you’re at the hotel getting ready for the party when you heard a knock.

“Hi Dan” you said opening the door

“So I heard Lewis want to ask you out” he says while entering to the room.

What? Lewis? I mean he was cute, well hot, but you were more into a certain Australian “Really? Who you kn..” you couldn’t finish because you feel his lips against you.

“Before you said anything I just want you to know I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you at that Wednesday when we went to eat ice cream, and you order vanilla, and ever since that day I have hidden my feelings because I didn’t want to lose you, but now I heard Lewis want to ask you out, so I have to risk now because I know him, and I know that if you say yes to that date I will lose you forever so here I’m telling you everything and hoping you feel the same way y/n” he lower his head as he finishes saying that, not wanting to look your reaction but instead of a push he feels your lips again.

“That means you like me too?”

“Of course you fool”

He started to smile, grab your hand and run while yelled “Come on, let’s grab some ice cream to commemorate this moment”

#daniel ricciardo imagine #danny ric #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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giuliadesu · 5 months

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 | bang chan

kpop | giuliadesu

fem!reader ⍛ fluff ⍛ 1.4k

chasing that feeling by tomorrow x together

if it wasn’t for the giddiness you felt bubbling inside you, you wouldn’t have believed in the turn of events the last few days brought.

it was the last day before christmas holiday in the school where you taught english. the day was slowly moving towards a cool yet pleasant evening, with kids scurrying around to bid goodbye to teachers and friends before heading home, and faculty members stopping by a bit longer to chat before the long awaited break.

snow had started to coat the streets of seoul a couple of hours prior to your exit from the premise of the building. a smile crept over your face, as you enjoyed the feeling of the cold flakes gently landing on your skin, making your way to the metro station to head home.

after that, it was a flurry of events: chan had visited your apartment (thanks to the spare key you gave him) and left a small envelope on the console table near the door; it contained train tickets for a small skiing location in the gangwon-do prefecture, along with a tiny note handwritten by him.

“hey pookie! the guys and i have rented a cabin in this small village for the holidays, come join us! and no, we don’t accept a negative answer ♡ i’ll pick you up at the station”

you had just enough time to change into more comfortable clothes, pack a suitcase with warm clothes and your skiing gear, grab the presents for the boys and off you were towards the train station!

you and chan had a bit of something going on, it was clear to everyone. the fine line between friendship and romance had started to get more and more blurred, with both of you making clear moves and statements that made it obvious you were in love with one another — despite not having confessed yet.

it was easy, considering you were both big on physical affection; hugs, naps together, holding hands whenever, soft kisses placed over cheeks or foreheads, tons and tons of cuddling… the kids were almost exhausted of hearing you say that you were just friends. friends didn’t behave like that and didn’t look at each other like that.

they were just hoping that the amounts of mistletoe hanging around the cabin and the festive atmosphere would give you the final push.

the 25th was a very sunny day, the majority of which was spent outside in the snow — whether skiing, snowboarding or simply chilling together.

then, after dinner, you all gathered on the carpet to exchange gifts, a warm glow coming from the lit fireplace. unsurprisingly, you and chan were sitting one next to the other, his arm lazily draped around your waist, while your hand would occasionally come to rest over his thigh.

while the other kids were busy opening the matching sweaters you’d gotten them (and throwing a tantrum over who wore it better), you took the chance to give chan his very own christmas present.

it was a small box, and just from the outside he realised it must have come from a very expensive jewellery brand. he sent you a glare, to which you replied by sticking out your tongue.

the black ribbon came off together with the lid, revealing the equally dark inside of the package. resting on a velvety cushion was a silver dog tag, engraved on both sides. the first thing chris noticed was how it perfectly matched the style of his chain bracelet. then, the quote on the front caught his attention: together forever, never apart; maybe in distance, but never at heart. the back also had something etched on it — the korean names of his friends.

his eyes shot up to meet yours, and you swore they were almost glossy.

“i don’t even know what to say… it’s just perfect.”

then he lifted you up from the floor and put you on his lap, hugging you tightly. you returned the hug immediately, your arms going around his neck.

“you don’t have to say anything. just know that the sentence speaks the truth and you are so, so loved.”

his grip tightened even more around your mid and you smiled in the crook of his neck, placing a gentle kiss there. he found himself willing to chase the feeling of your lips, although he knew it was not the moment.

“put it on for me, please?”

later that night (or was it the wee hours of the morning?), well past the time everyone had gone to bed, chan found himself in the kitchen, trying to make a hot chocolate. he regretted not wearing a shirt over the short, grey sweats he used to sleep the second some hot milk droplets landed on his chest.

“you should be more careful when cooking, mister bang.”

he jolted in surprise, and you couldn’t hide the giggles that left your mouth.

he was about to retort, but when he turned around and saw you wearing his very oversized hoodie over your definitely-not-wintery pyjamas, the words died in his throat.

“do you want some hot chocolate?”

the way your eyes lit up pulled a chuckle out of him, and he went to grab a second cup from the shelf. while he had his back turned to you, you went and hugged him from behind, your arms snaking around his waist and resting on his abs.

“thank you for inviting me here. i don’t think i’ve ever had this much fun over the holidays.”

one of his hands came over your own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“hey, don’t mention it! that’s what… friends are for, right?”

you felt a slight tinge of weariness in his voice, and you couldn’t help the small pang of disappointment in your chest.

“right, friends…”

a relatively comfortable silence fell over the small kitchen of the cabin. while chris finished preparing the beverage, you stayed glued to his back. you could feel his warm skin, the way his muscles moved with every action, the faint sound of a song he was humming.

chocolate now safely poured inside the mugs, the boy turned around.

“wait here a second for me, yeah?”

without even waiting for an answer, he lifted you up and sat you on the counter; then he disappeared in the living room, where faint lights from the christmas tree created shadows over the walls.

he came back a few moments later, a small box in his hand. it was very similar to the one you presented him a few hours earlier.

“i know i should’ve given this to you before, but i didn’t want the guys to make fun of me.”

he laughed while coming closer, and you instinctively parted your legs to allow him to stand right in front of you. the dog tag caught on the dim kitchen light. you smiled.

he started humming a tune again, probably to ease the nerves. you recognized it as chasing that feeling by txt.

you couldn’t contain the giddiness bubbling inside you while carefully unpacking the present. the white box contained a bracelet, whose very thin chain matched that of the necklace you’d gifted him, and the small charm dangling from it was of two hands making a pinky promise.

wordlessly, yet with a warm smile across your features, you moved your arm in front of chris, the bracelet in your other hand. while he was hard at work at unclasping it and wrapping it around your wrist, you caught a glimpse of the two words etched on the back.

“… is it a confession?”

“only if you want it to be.”

the smiles on both of your faces were already enough of an answer, yet the moment needed something more.

one of his hands cupped your cheek, while one of yours gently took a hold of the dog tag.

chris stopped one millimetre away from your lips, still giving you the chance to turn down both his confession and the kiss.

“na sungmyeonga, come and kiss me, i just keep on chasing that feeling.”

with a slight tug on the necklace his soft lips landed on yours.

it was a sweet kiss, all smiles and giggles. your hands came over his wrists while both of his were now holding your face.

and boy, did you both chase each other’s feelings with your mutual pining!

the next morning, no one was surprised to find the both of you sleeping on the couch, necklace and bracelet on full display. apparently, the smiles on your faces were enough for everyone to know that you finally belonged to one another.

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jokeringcutio · 5 months

Text

Matthew Lillard x Actress Reader. A romantic little Drabble, rating T.

Disclaimer: I don't mean any disrespect toward Matthew Lillard and his family, and want to make it clear that this story is purely fictional.

Fill for this post: [ x ] Matthew: if you ever come across this, I sincerely apologize for all the horrible things I made your characters do. And please, don't let your family have a look at those other fics. I implore you.

You stepped onto the balcony, the chill night air a sharp contrast to the stifling warmth of the crowded movie awards hall. The fabric of your dress—a midnight blue number with a daring slit up the side—rustled against your skin as you moved. Its sequins flickered like distant stars under the pale moonlight, mirroring the shimmer in your eyes. You needed this respite, a moment alone to breathe.

"Mind if I join you?" The voice was unmistakable, laced with the same charm that had captivated audiences for decades. Matthew Lillard followed you outside, his tailored suit clinging perfectly to his tall frame. The black tuxedo made him look even more dashing than usual, the jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the trousers skimming down those long legs. His tie was a deep burgundy, a splash of color against the crisp white shirt.

"Of course not," you replied, turning towards him with a smile that felt more genuine than most you'd offered that evening.

"Remember the first scene we shot together?" he asked, leaning casually against the balustrade. "You couldn't stop laughing every time I flubbed my lines."

"Hard to forget," you chuckled, recalling the way your laughter had filled the set, a memory tinged with fondness.

"Those were good times." He looked at you, and there was an echo of shared jokes in his gaze. "We made quite the pair on screen."

"Too convincing, perhaps?" you ventured, thinking of the whispers that had followed you both. Rumors of an off-screen romance had swirled around you like persistent flies.

"Speaking of which..." Matthew's tone shifted, became something softer, probing. "Why did we never... you know, give it a shot?"

Your heart stumbled, then raced. You stammered, words tripping over each other as they rushed out. "Well, I—It's just that, um—"

"Hey," he interrupted gently, a perceptive glint in his blue eyes. "You don't have to shield my ego."

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat. Could he see right through you? Did he know about the quiet yearning that whispered through your veins whenever he was near?

"Truth is," Matthew continued, his voice dropping a register, intimate and raw, "I had a thing for you. A big one. Still do. Never tried to hide it."

His confession sliced through the night, hung between you, heavy and electric. Your pulse hammered in your ears; the world seemed to tilt slightly on its axis.

"Even now?" The question escaped before you could cage it, revealing more of your heart than intended.

"Even now." His affirmation was simple, unwavering. And you just stood there, breath stolen by the audacity of his confession. The night air bit at your bare shoulders, goosebumps rising along your arms not solely from the chill. Stars blinked above as you considered all the possibilities that suddenly lay ahead of you.

"Say something," he urged, voice low, teasing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. They searched your face, looking for a truth you hadn't even admitted to yourself.

Silence stretched, a canvas awaiting the first stroke of color.

"Did you ever...?" He left the question hanging, but you felt it deep inside.

Your heart thrummed a frenetic rhythm against the cage of your ribs. "I did," you whispered, finally allowing the words to escape, fluttering into the space between you like frightened birds. "But the years between us..." You trailed off, the age gap looming like a chasm too wide to cross.

"Numbers," Matthew dismissed with a wave of his hand, his suit jacket shifting to reveal the cut of his frame beneath the fine fabric. "They're just numbers, and I've never been good at math."

Laughter escaped you, short and startled, the sound cutting through the tension. It was a confession wrapped in a joke, and it loosened something within you.

"Come here," he said, extending his arm toward you. His offer was a lifeline, bold and clear.

"Are you sure?" A daring beat pulsed behind the question. Your gaze flicked to the media frenzy inside, the voracious cameras that would document this moment.

"Let them talk," he said, certainty lacing his tone like steel.

"Okay." One word, heavy with implication. You took his arm, the fabric of his suit cool and smooth under your fingers.

His arm tightened around you as you stepped into the light pouring from the hall. Flashbulbs ignited, an artificial daylight that pried and probed. But in the shelter of his arm, you found an unexpected fortress.

"Girlfriend sounds nice," he whispered, a promise woven through the syllables.

"Boyfriend," you echoed, savoring the shape of the word, the weight it carried. Delight surged, sweet and potent as honey liquor.

The world would wake to new headlines tomorrow. Let them spin their stories. Tonight, you wrote your own narrative, one electric step at a time.

#matthew lillard x reader #prompt fill

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destieltropecollection · 1 year

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DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 7 | Angst With A Happy Ending

falling must feel | @demonmary

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,188 Main Tags/Warnings: Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Drinking, Comp-Het, Hopeful Ending, Confessions Summary: As soon as the text message was sent, he shoved his phone away, silently vowing to leave it there till morning. While his fingers closed around the second shot glass, he locked eyes with a pretty girl with dark hair. Now this, this was something Dean could do without fucking up.

The Gospel According To Sam Winchester's Wrath | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,725 Main Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Dean Winchester's Season 13 Widower Arc, Post-Episode: s13e01 Lost and Found, Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology, Angst, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Suicidal Dean Winchester, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms Summary: How do you grieve when, for the first time in a long time, it looks like the people you love might not come back? How do you find someone to blame when everyone involved is partially responsible for what went wrong? How do you cope when you have to take care of someone who's always looked after you in the past? How do you manage a massive disaster with no help? (Or: Sam Winchester remembers what it's like to be angry all the time with nothing to swing at, and can't stop thinking about some of Jimmy Novak's last words.)

reasons to leave | @sharkfish

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,381 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern SettingAngst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Vampires, Dean Winchester's Appallingly Low Self-Esteem Summary: Dean’s thinking of ending things. With Cas, that is. This isn’t like the book. It’s not a horror story, unless you know how easily a person can become a house haunted. Unless you know how, eventually, it becomes almost easy to choke down even the sharpest words. Unless you know how it feels for every escape attempt to fail. Unless you know a secret can be as heavy as dread and just as dark. That’s in the past, or maybe the point is that it never will be, not for Dean. He still answers his father’s calls and keeps an extra fridge in his unfinished basement, after all.

when doves cry | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,821 Main Tags/Warnings: human castiel, canon divergent, season/series 9 Summary: When Dean asks Cas to leave the bunker, all he can do is hope that the fallen angel is safe and doing okay. But when he reaches out to Cas to check in, he's surprised by the anger he's met with. Forced to consider whether or not he made the right call, Dean must reckon with how to fix things between him and the man he worries he may have lost forever.

begin & end there | @sharkfish

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7,677 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catfishing, Online Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mental Health Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Texting, Loss of Virginity, Fluff Summary: Dean: You’re not who you say you are Cas has always known it might come to this — Dean knowing the pathetic reality of him — and he always knew whatever they were doing couldn’t last. Eventually Dean would see through his excuses. Eventually he would meet someone like James: handsome, successful, confident. Someone that deserves Dean’s attention.

He Used to Be Mine | @kcprexhatespushups-blog

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8,527 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence, Human Castiel, Post S15 e20" Carry On, Castiel is not Okay, Castiel Needs a Hug, Sad with a Happy Ending, Greif/Mourning, Orignal Female Character Summary: Castiel never expected to come back, he had resigned himself to staying in The Empty for the rest of time. He had spoken his truth, and those three words saved the world, but more importantly, those three words saved Dean Winchester. Castiel never expected to live in a world where Dean Winchester didn't exist, so when Jack pulled him out, the first words out of his mouth were: Where’s Dean?

Dead Letter Office | @f-able

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10,000 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Past sex worker dean, canon-compliant child abuse, grieving dean, Summary: Dean writes to Castiel in The Empty.

Raise Me From the Wreck of My Doubt | @aishitara

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,290 Main Tags/Warnings: canon-divergence: season 5, Dean Winchester has self-worth issues, internalized homophobia, brief suicidal ideation, masturbation, rimming, sounding, anal penetration, consentacles, Dean Winchester has nightmares about Hell. Summary: He’s giddy, intoxicated, flushed from head to toe. Soon enough, though, the endorphins fade, and despite the heat of the shower, Dean finds himself shivering. Shame floods him, icy and corrosive. Cas is an *angel.* And yeah, for the most part their methods and motives *suck* for Dean, and who knows what sorta shit Cas had gotten up to with the Host before he went all Fredo Corleone on their asses, but he’s still an angel, still *holy,* and loads better than Dean fucking Winchester, who has gone to actual Hell and unequivocally did not deserve Cas dragging his sorry ass out of it.

Ghost Whisperer | Destielshipper4Cas (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15,166 Main Tags/Warnings: Cas is not really dead, Ghost Cas, Medium Dean, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Lovers, Touch-Starved Cas, Fluff and Smut, Bottom Cas, Top Dean, Alpha Dean, Omega Cas Summary: Ever since Castiel fell into a coma for unknown reasons, he hasn’t been able to communicate with anyone. Some new tenants have moved into his apartment, his sister won’t let him move on, and all in all, it seems like the ‘Novak Curse’ has him in its grips. Until he meets a medium, who, as a hunter, is not too fond of ghosts. If Castiel wants his help, he’ll have some serious haunting to do. Falling in love with his hauntee wasn’t part of the plan, but it certainly complicates things.

You Can Start To Make It Better (Beautiful Beautiful Boy) | @heller-castiel

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 15,940 Main Tags/Warnings: Heaven, Post-Canon, Dean Winchester’s Mommy Issues, Everybody Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Brief Allusions to Homophobia, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester Summary: Dean goes to bed with Cas on the night Jack's finally ready to reform heaven and give up his Godly powers; but before he does, he pulls Dean into heaven to bring someone back, one last time. Or: Dean Winchester works through his mommy issues with some heavenly therapy.

Hope is a living thing | @whichstiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,547 Main Tags/Warnings: Endverse, Canon divergence, Hopeful ending Summary: Castiel storms the sanitarium ready to die. The last thing he expects to find is hope for a better ending.

the long hill home | @angelcasendgame

Rating: Mature Word Count: 27,017 Main Tags/Warnings: trapped together, purgatory, seemingly unrequited love Summary: Finding themselves stranded in a world of abominations again, after twelve years of being on the precipice of something, Dean finally tells Castiel that he loves him. It should be simple. It isn’t. Castiel knew his deal with the Empty meant he would have to reject happiness. He just didn’t know he would even get the chance at it. ~ Or, under the threat of the Empty’s deal, Castiel is forced to reject Dean’s confession. It’s downhill from there.

The Black Series | @destiel-wings

Rating: Mature Word Count: 28,093 Main Tags/Warnings: angst and romance, post s15e19, fix it, Dean Winchester grieves Castiel, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, Castiel is saved from the Empty, bed sharing, human Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester need to use their words, intimacy Summary: This fic is a two-part series. Since the Empty took Cas, Dean can't sleep in the dark, can't even be in the dark, and he can't see black. That color is a trigger. When Castiel is back, saved from the Empty, he’s scared of the dark, too, and the nightmares won't leave him alone. Dean offers to sleep in the same room and has to deal with his feelings in the process.

Heaven/Hell | @lazarus-rose

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 28,623 Main Tags/Warnings: Fallen Angel!Cas, Demon!Dean, alternate canon, fluff and smut, happy ending Summary: Castiel Milton is not well. He can’t be. He keeps hearing the voices of angels in his head and, for a time, they convinced him that Lucifer was about to rise up from Hell and bring about the apocalypse… After a brief stay at the Connor Beverly Behavioral Medical Centre, where he thankfully begins to sort out his delusions, Castiel is brought home by his beloved boyfriend Dean Winchester. He thought things would get better, but the voices won’t stop, and that’s to say nothing about the dreams, or how he occasionally looks at Dean and sees a monster staring back at him.

S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Trespasser | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 28,819 Main Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Blood and Gore, Violence, Brainwashing, Recreational Drug Use, Major Character Injury, Strangers to Lovers, Huddling For Warmth, Identity Issues, Whump, Implied Sexual Content Summary: After Sam Winchester disappears while working with the Peace Corps in Eastern Europe, Dean exhausts every conventional resource trying to figure out where his brother went until an underground online community points him in the direction of the Chernobyl disaster zone in Ukraine. Armed with a list of supplies he needs to pack, a wad of cash, and a weak grip of the Russian language (thanks Sammy), Dean follows the trail there to find his brother and get them both back home safe. When he arrives, his last-minute reading up on the area didn't prepare him for the war zone that he finds… or the terrifying phenomena going on within. A chat with a veteran “stalker” gives him his next clue: he needs to hire a mercenary named Seraph, who’s supposedly a real pro and one of the best at digging up lost things throughout the Zone. Everyone’s heard of this guy, he knows his shit and does a great job, but nobody knows anything about him either, what he’s like or how he came to be what he is. So now Dean has two things he’s looking for, a pile of useless evidence, and a ticking clock over his head: seeing what’s really going on in this nightmarish place, the longer it takes him to find Sam, the less likely he’ll be to find Sam alive.

But Water's Wider | @li-izumi

Rating: Mature Word Count: 29,622 Main Tags/Warnings: Depression, suicide ideation, Castiel Whump, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Post-Season 11 Summary: Without his wings to guide his descent after he was banished by the intruder in the Bunker, Castiel crashes into the ground, leaving his body nearly as broken and bruised as his heart. Only his promise to Dean to protect Sam compels Castiel to stand up again. After days of dragging himself back to the Bunker, Castiel discovers that Sam is all right and Dean is alive! What should be a joyous reunion is marred by Castiel’s self-doubts. If the Winchesters don’t need him, and Heaven doesn’t want him, where does Castiel belong?

The Last Great American Dynasty | @nickelkeep

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 32,333 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Writer Castiel, Handyperson Dean WInchester, Haunted Houses, POV Castiel, Historical References, Unreliable Narrator, Curses and Superstitions, Angst with a Happy Ending, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Based on a Taylor Swift Song. Summary: Cas Novak is a famous Sci-Fi and Fantasy writer. His Angelus Series is one of the best known book series in the world. However, he's stuck. His life is in a rut, he can't find the motivation to write, and he needs something different. Despite the reservations of his two closest friends, Cas buys a mansion on the sleepy Rhode Island coast known as Holiday House. Purchasing it sight unseen and with no research, it doesn't take long for Cas to find out that there would be consequences, and benefits, in making the purchase of a lifetime.

Do Unto Others | @envydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 52,025 Main Tags/Warnings: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, hurt!Dean, Hurt!Cas, Slave!Dean, Slave!Cas, Master!Alastair, Dean/Alastair, Cas/Alastair, Coerced Consent, Kidnapping, Attempted Mind Break, Collars, Branding, non consensual tattooing, slavery is illegal, Fucking Machines, breath play, Angst with a Happy Ending, sort of enemies to lovers Summary: Dean has been Alastair's slave—his sweetheart—for nearly five years. It's been a while since things have been bad, he's compliant and does everything that Master asks him to. That is until Master gifts Dean a friend—a pet, his pet—and it starts to go downhill when he learns things about how the world is.

"Heaven Is a Place on Earth" | @motherofdragonflies

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 64,722 Main Tags/Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Modern!AU, Sex Worker!Castiel, Client Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, BDSM, Sub Dean Winchester, Dom Alastair, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Non-sexual submission Summary: Dean Winchester is a lonely, repressed ad-man whose only vices are his 1967 Chevy Impala and the sex worker he sees every week. When Anael unexpectedly cancels Dean's appointment with her at the Heaven and Hell themed brothel, Dean agrees to make an appointment with another of Heaven's angels. A male angel, who goes by the name 'Castiel', and who unlocks desires in Dean that he thought he had buried deep, deep down. But there is a darker side to Dean: a side that Dean discovers when he ventures down to Hell and meets a demon named Alastair. Will Dean listen to the angel on his shoulder and follow his heart, or will he succumb to the temptation of the demon on his back?

Ignite Your Bones | @angelinthefire

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 67,177 Main Tags/Warnings: major character death, top castiel/bottom dean winchester, angel!Cas, canon-typical alcoholism, grief/mourning, depression, suicidal thoughts Summary: Chuck takes the Winchesters up on their offer in 15x19. Dean, Cas, and Jack deal with the fallout for their relationships. It gets worse before it gets better.

Don't Say Gay (in Russia) | @valandrawrites

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 78,567 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - High School, Russian Castiel, Foreign Exchange Student, Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Musician Castiel, Pierced Castiel, Tattooed Castiel, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Protective Bobby Singer, Homophobic Language, homophobic violence, Cultural Differences, Happy Ending Summary: Foreign exchange student Castiel Krushnic arrived in America looking for a clean slate for his senior year, but his host family didn’t even remember he was coming. He resigns himself to another year of isolation, but the green-eyed boy who finally arrives to take him home is as confusing as he is beautiful. Dean Winchester is less than impressed to discover his father had signed them up as a host family and never told him and Sam. Now he has to deal with a grumpy Russian who barely talks, a best friend who isn't speaking to him, a brother full of teenage hormones, and a whole litany of doubt about who he is and what he really wants. It’s going to be a fucking disaster of a senior year. Getting closer to Cas requires that Dean confront his own demons as well as try to heal the physical and invisible wounds the past has inflicted upon the tender heart beneath the hard shell who only ever learned the party line that you Don’t Say Gay in Russia.

The Leap | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 82,932 Main Tags/Warnings: Getting Together, Falling In Love, Period-Typical Homophobia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester Summary: 1961: Sixteen years after the end of World War II, Berlin remains occupied by the Allied Forces — America, Britain, France and the Soviet Union. Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations. But Cold War Berlin is a troubled place, and as more and more residents flee Soviet-occupied territory for the West, Castiel’s superiors begin to make plans to build a wall. The wall would cut off East Berlin from the rest of the city — and leave Dean and Castiel on opposite sides.

Any Other Day | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Mature Word Count: 124,676 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, Slight Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Whump, Domestic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Hurt Castiel, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Wing Kink Summary: Victor just wants to finally enjoy his weekend. But when weird reports of a man in a trench coat having been arrested for murder in some small town in Colorado are coming in and the names of the Winchester brothers are all of a sudden mentioned for the very first time in almost a decade inside the FBI building, Victor needs to kiss his free time goodbye. So instead of spending his days on the couch, eating all the takeout he can find and watching crappy movies, he all at once sees himself confronted with an unstable angel, incapable of controlling his powers, a hunter missing from the scene, nowhere to be found, and the other one worried out of his mind about his family. Yeah, that's not the quiet weekend Victor had been hoping for. At all.

The Evil that Men do | @malicmalic

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 174,637 Main Tags/Warnings: Past Rape/non con, Non Con elements, Mistaken Identity, Torture, Kidnaping, Consent issues, Stockholm Syndrome, Fear, Guilt, Suicidal thoughts, Past Drug abuse, Homophobia, Unreliable Narrator, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Human AU. Summary: When Dean learns his girlfriend found the man that raped her all those years ago, he is ready to make him feel the exact formation of Dean's knuckles, but Bela had some other ideas in mind. Dean is not what you might call a good guy, but even some things are too much for him. And then the worst thing happens - Dean learns they made a mistake. The guilt will consume him, making him change his foul path, but nothing will ever seem enough, even when he gets a chance for redemption.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #Angst with a happy ending #day 7

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whirlwindimagines · 1 year

Text

‘In the moment we’re lost and found, I just wanna be by your side’

Vash X Reader

a/n: Me only using song lyrics from my Vash x Oc playlist as titles? More likely than you think. This is also 1000 words of comfort? or just hugging lol I have no idea (Wings by Birdy) Not requested!

“You shouldn't have done that.” you flinched, not bothering to meet Vash’s gaze as he wrapped your shoulder in bandages. His tone was as always gentle, but you knew he was angry. Whether that be at himself, the situation, or you. Just… It had happened in instant, being shot at was nothing new for the two of you. Vash always wanted you to run away in shootouts, he’d handle it or just grab you and run.

But the bounty hunter was sneaking up behind him and you had noticed before he did. You knew Vash had crazy good reflexes, but it was like instinct took over when you shoved him out of the way taking the bullet for him.

You remembered hitting the ground hard, bile rising in your throat, ears ringing and your shoulder on fire. Then all of a sudden, hands were all over you and Vash’s concerned face came into view he was speaking to you maybe yelling, but you had no idea what he was saying. But then he was forcing you to your feet, and the two of you were moving once more.

In your haze, you realized the gunfighting had stopped but you didn't bother thinking too hard about the situation while Vash dragged you off to safety. He managed to secure the two of you a room in some hotel for the night, once he forced you to sit on the bed, he’d gone off for a first aid kit.

You winced when Vash tied the bandages off probably tighter than necessary, he was just staring at you looking defeated, maybe looking for a response. You had no idea what to say to him, sorry? You weren't. It won't happen again? A lie. You’d do it a million times over just so that he would never be in pain.

Vash continued to stare at you until he sighed, running his metal hand through his hair. Standing, he moved to the window leaning against it to look at the nighttime sky. “Look Vash it just happened, okay? This isn't the first time I've been shot ya know.” You finally gave an answer, glancing over at him.

“That doesn’t matter, you shouldn't be getting hurt at all!” Vash turned to you so suddenly, you jumped at his tone, Vash wasn't one to raise his voice, especially at you. He was just as surprised at his outburst because he turned away muttering a small ‘sorry’. You could only watch gaze saddened, unsure of what to say to him.

“It's just, everyone always gets hurt around me and I'm tired of it.” the statement was said so quietly you nearly missed it, but your heart ached all the same at the confession. “Vash listen to me.” You stood taking a step towards him, he didn't turn to look at you. “I chose to travel with you, and I knew the risk, okay? I took the shot for you because...” you trailed off, deep down you knew why, but suddenly you were too shy to say it. Vash felt bad enough about your injury confessing that you were in love with the man, wouldn't help anything not right now. You sighed before continuing “Because I care about you and I don't want to see you hurt either.” It was a copout answer, but still truthful.

Taking another step forward you reached for Vash, grabbing the back of his coat in your hands and fisting the material. You leaned your head forward resting your forehead between his shoulder blades. “You carry so much on your shoulders, the whole desert if you could. Please just let me hold a grain of sand for you.” You felt Vash stiffen under your touch and then heard a sniffle.

An intake of stuttering breath in one moment and then in the next, Vash turning and wrapping his arms around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He made sure to be mindful of your wound, as he cried softly into your neck. You stood shellshocked for a moment before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your shoulder protested the movement but you could care less at this moment.

“Oh, Vash.” You cooed softly as he wrapped himself tighter around you, you held onto him just as tightly. Afraid to let him pull back, letting him cry out what he needed to. You had meant what you said, why should he have to carry the problems of the world on his shoulders all by himself? You would do your part to help him carry it, even if you ended up crushed by it.

Eventually Vash stopped crying, but continued to hold you tightly you didn’t mind one bit. Leaning into him with a content sigh, you didn’t know how long the two of you stood there enjoying each other’s warmth.

“You should rest,” Vash muttered into you, his breath hit your neck and you shivered. He pulled back, meeting your gaze his eyes were still watery and his smile didn't really reach his eyes but it was enough for now.

“Okay.” You whispered, dropping your arms from around him. You wished you weren’t such a coward, but you could tell Vash had put his walls back up and now wasn’t the time to break them down. He held you a moment longer before dropping his own arms. You turned moving back towards the bed but paused turning to look at him nervously. “You’ll still be here when I wake up right?”

You couldn't read his expression, “Of course.” you turned back towards the bed frowning, something in his tone was off. You moved to get in bed, not bothering to change out of your clothes you could worry about that tomorrow. Vash moved forward, grabbing the blanket and placing it over you gently, he turned to leave until you reached out grabbing one of his hands.

He looked surprised, and you were as well you opened your mouth but no words came out. How could you explain to someone that being at their side was enough? No matter the pain, that you’d take as many bullets for him as you could. Instead, you squeezed his hand and smiled softly at him.

“Goodnight Vash.” Dropping his hand quickly, you turned to lay on your uninjured side clutching your hand to your chest. How embarrassing! You felt a light touch on your upper arm, “Goodnight y/n” just as quickly as his hand was there it was gone, you heard Vash move across the room probably looking for somewhere to settle down for the night as well.

Closing your eyes, you just hoped tomorrow would be better and that you would continue to find ways to help Vash carry his burden. That you could get him to laugh and smile, you’d sacrifice everything for his happiness.

#vash the stampede #trigun stampede x reader #vash imgaine #vash x reader #vash imagines #trigun stampede imagine #trigun #trigun stampede #vash x you

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agostobuwan · 2 months

Note

What are your favourite acting moments of Taylor as Alex?

I thought long and hard about this one, but I have three!

(1) Alex’s Speech

There is just something about Taylor as Alex speaking about queer liberation that just makes me feel so warm inside. As Alex, he lays his entire heart out for the whole world to see, allows the world to know that he fell in love with a man, and he tells a truth that goes beyond the screen. And it’s a message everyone needs to hear and listen to over and over again because it’s just so important.

It’s all about doing things on your own terms, and not having to conform to an idea someone else has of you. A lot of us tend to forget that, and I love how the movie lays it all out plainly as a clear reminder.

And just like Henry, I thought that speech was beautiful.

(2) The Lake (Almost) Confession

It’s the way Taylor can easily shift from a carefree playfulness to something more subdued, more vulnerable, as he builds up the courage in Alex to tell Henry that he loves him. The scene is set up to be entirely focused on Nick’s face and the emotion conveyed in his eyes as Henry reacts to Alex’s confession, but I’ve always paid attention to Taylor’s voice and the way it dips low and shakes slightly with anxiety. His voice is so soft, so careful, that it almost caresses you the same way he’s gently drawing shapes into Nick’s back.

This is also the turning point in the film where things get worse before they start to get better, and I start crying when “If I Loved You” starts playing.

(3) Storming KP

Obviously, the film doesn’t outright convey the same anger that Alex has in the book, but to me, while Taylor’s interpretation of the scene still conveys that anger—albeit more subdued—he mostly plays on Alex’s sadness, betrayal, and confusion when he and Henry argue. This is also a place where we see the most vulnerability I’ve ever seen from Taylor (excluding the bedroom scene with Nora before this).

When we get to those tight shots of Taylor’s face, his lips tremble and his eyes are wet, and you can just feel his anguish, feel how much Alex loves Henry even though he knows Henry won’t say it back.

Henry’s lines get me crying the most, but it’s Taylor’s expressions to those words that absolutely kill me.

(I also love the little fun fact that taylor and nick couldn’t stop hugging between takes or be mean to each other LOL)

#thank you for the ask!!#anonymous #answered #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #taylor zakhar perez #tzp

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shina913 · 1 year

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Stalemate, Part 1 | MYG

Stalemate (Mini-series)

Definition: (1) Chess. a position of the pieces in which a player cannot move any piece except the king and cannot move the king without putting it in check. (2) any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock

Pairing: Woodworker!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: breakup!AU; toxic relationships; angst; fluff; smut; heavy drama

Summary: "The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

Word count: 8.9K+ words

Warnings (more written in individual chapters): problematic exes; relationship insecurities; alcohol consumption; cussing; miscommunication; past infidelity (reader had an affair with a married man but not detailed); vulnerable confessions; protected sex; oral sex (F-receiving); breast/nipple play; dirty talk; jealousy; multiple orgasms; verbal confrontation; a terrible joke about wood 😑

A/N: Phew! What a way to break my month-long writing drought/limbo...jumping from one unfinished WIP to another. As I mentioned on the series masterlist, this is a nonlinear story so you'll see multiple time jumps. I tried to map out the timeline using "Now" and "Then" headings so I hope that helps!

I was also going to straight-shot this but Part 2 is still missing a couple of scenes so I hope to post that in the next day or two. Until then, here's some smangsty-angst!

Now…

Yoongi pushes the button of his key fob to lock his car then walks across the street toward an alleyway. Over a decade ago, this area, at this time of night was always questionable at best. But the neighborhood was changing and old warehouses like these were being converted into some tech start-up office, a pop-up restaurant, or sometimes, the occasional modern art gallery.

“Yoongi!”

His friend, Namjoon’s voice boomed through the loud chatter and house music. He rushes to greet him by the entrance with a hug.

“Hey, glad you could come out tonight!”

Yoongi scans the surroundings and nods in approval. He gasps, “Wow–this looks great, Joon!”

“Thanks, man. Do you like how we styled all of the light fixtures?”

Both men look up at the ceiling and marvel at the decor. “I think I might run out of adjectives tonight,” Yoongi laughs. “I love what you did with them. They look awesome!”

“Great to be friends with the supplier, huh?” Namjoon grinned, elbowing Yoongi playfully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yoongi answers wryly. “Only for you, Namjoonah.”

“Listen, I’d love to hang out and chat but there’s a lot of people here tonight. Lots of people to rub shoulders with, you know?”

“Aish, go ahead, man–it’s your night. I’ll be fine,” Yoongi smiles.

“Alright well, there’s an open bar set up in the patio and we’ve got people walking around with finger-foods. Just help yourself and have fun, yeah?”

After Namjoon walks away, Yoongi starts to walk deeper into the building and sees doors leading to an outdoor area to where a makeshift bar is set up. While he waits for the bartender to bring him his drink, he turns around to admire his friend’s place once more.

It had been a while since Yoongi had gone out on a weekend–by choice. He mostly preferred to stay in and be a recluse or occupy his time by working.

“Sir, your drink?”

Yoongi turns back toward the bar to take his beer. “Thanks,” he nods at the bartender, then drops a dollar in the tip jar.

As he starts to turn and walk away, he pauses while his vision lands on one corner, next to one of the multiple mobile sculptures installed in the space.

He watched from a distance as you carefully gazed at the exhibit, trying to find some deeper meaning or metaphor that it was trying to convey. Once you were ready to move onto another section of the gallery, your breath catches–and your eyes lock.

Then...

“Dude, where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting for over an hour,” Yoongi grumbled while he stood in a quiet corner to make a call. He’d been at the bar waiting for his friend, Namjoon to show up. It’s been a stressful week for him at work and he wanted to unwind and have a few drinks.

“Sorry, Yoongi. I sort of…ran into someone and now we’re talking about heading to her place–”

“Her?” Yoongi repeated, “Wha–you already hooked up with some chick?”

“I mean, I don’t know how it will turn out yet, Yoongi,” he chuckled on the other line. “We’re just talking. But if you want, I can still meet you? It’s just going to take me a little while,” Namjoon sputtered.

Yoongi groaned, knowing full well that once Namjoon had been roped in, it would be like trying to pull him out of quicksand. “You know what bro–just…don’t worry about it,” he concedes.

“A-are you sure? I could still–”

“It’s cool, Namjoonie. We’ll link up next time. Have a good night.” He signs off as sincerely as possible before hanging up.

Yoongi huffed, downed the rest of his beer then trudged back over to the bar. He motions to the bartender, who moved closer so he could place another drink order.

“Can I get a scotch, three fingers, no ice?”

******

It’s nearly 10:30 at night and you and your friend, Hyejin were still feeling the club’s vibe. It was a long weekend and you were intent on making a casual hookup or two.

“Anyway…we decided that things weren’t working out,” Hyejin shrugs. “We’re good though.”

You eyed her suspiciously. “Oh sure,” you say sarcastically, “Is that why you’re still fucking him?”

She giggled, clearly not planning on denying it. “I mean, he’s a nice guy and we started out as fuck-buddies…” she trailed off.

You rolled your eyes. “You need to start setting better boundaries, girl,” you say before taking a sip of your drink.

She shrugged, “I’m just living life. You should try it sometime!”

After you snort at her comment, she nudges your arm, bobbing her head toward the bar’s direction. “He looks yummy,” she remarks. You turn your head and made a quick assessment of the lonely patron she was gesturing at.

To your surprise, he turns his head in your direction. You met his gaze for a brief moment before he hastily turned away.

“He’s hot but a little too broody-looking,” you say dismissively even though you felt a flutter in the pit of your belly.

“So? You know what they say about those quiet, broody types…” Hyejin leans into your ear and whispers, “They’re freaks in the sheets!”

Your eyebrows knitted comically at her. “Who the hell said that?”

She clicked her teeth. “Me, duh!” She threw her head back in laughter, the music drowning out her drunken cackles. “Go get him–or I will,” she threatens.

Just then, he glances in your direction once more. But he’s unnerved by you and Hyejin staring straight at him so he turns away and looks down at his phone screen instead.

“I think he looked at me,” Hyejin said.

“Shut up, he looked at me!”

“You said he was too broody–”

“That didn’t mean that I was disinterested,” you cocked a warning eyebrow at her..

She laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for?” She dared.

You started to back away from her and grinned. “Slow your roll, babe…I’m going!”

You turned away from her and walked up to your target, his shoulders hunched over while he scrolled through his phone and alternately took a sip of his drink.

You ordered yourself a cocktail even though you technically already had one that you conveniently left behind where you previously stood.

You parked yourself on the seat next to him, pretending to scroll through your own phone while you gather up the courage. You see him from your peripheral view sneaking more glances at you.

When the bartender brings you your drink, the hottie to your left speaks out.

“Put her drink on my tab.”

The bartender’s eyebrow quirked. He looked at you then back at him. He gave him a small smile, nodded in acknowledgment, and walked away. You took it as your cue to finally start a conversation.

“Thanks, that’s nice of you,” you said, swiveling your seat in his direction, crossing your leg over the other.

“You’re welcome.”

The bartender serves your drink. As you pick it up, you raised your glass toward him. “Geonbae.”

“Geonbae,” he says as he raised his glass to tap it against yours.

After you both take a sip, you ask him straight away, “Are you here with anybody?” You were not wasting any more precious time.

“Well, I was waiting for a friend but he ditched me so I’m on my own tonight.”

“Oh no,” you feigned regret. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep you company for a bit? It’s the least I can do to thank you for this drink.”

Your boldness made him smile. “I’m Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. I’m YN.” He reached out for a handshake but you gave him a hug instead. It takes him by surprise but it’s a welcome one.

******

“So, you build furniture?”

“Yep. I design them and I build them,” he explains while you scroll through his company’s social media page.

“By yourself?”

He laughed. “Sometimes, if I can’t find reliable help,” he remarks, his laugh growing louder. “I mean, I do the designs by myself but I usually have a team who helps me with the production and assembly. I have my own workshop.”

“Wow,” you marveled and continued to scroll through his feed. “Your work is really good–and unique!”

“Thank you. I work with a lot of local suppliers–small businesses as well, like mine. It’s a great community,” he explains. “And by the way, your work looks great, too,” he says while he scrolls through your own social media feed.

“Oh, gosh–most of my moodboards are from random Pinterest concepts,” you respond.

“Ehh…I think you’re being too modest.” He zeroes in on a recent contract–one that you were really proud of. It was for a local restaurant chain that used to have a bland color palette and aesthetic until they hired you to liven it up for their first location expansion. Three locations later, they’ve been one of your most lucrative clients.

“You have a great eye,” he says before handing your phone back to you. You smile at his compliment while you return his phone.

“If you think my work is good, we should get together sometime.”

His eyebrow quirks at your remark, but he holds back his response thinking you might have misspoken. You smile at him and after taking a sip of your drink you say, “You know, I’m always looking into connecting with new vendors to partner with.”

He chuckled. “You think we can be partners?”

“Why not? I see a lot of potential for us. I work in design and you are a potential supplier...what’s the worst that can happen?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Our visions might not line up,” he responds with a hint of doubt.

You shrug. “Ever heard of compromising?”

He chuckled softly. “My work tends to come off too old-fashioned to some. It takes a different kind of audience.”

“So? Sometimes all it takes is a dash of old-fashioned,” you smile, raising your glass containing the same drink.

“Really?”

You lift a shoulder. “You need a little bitterness to balance the sweetness out.” You giggle at the cheesiness of that line.

“Point taken,” he says with a gummy smile, holding back his laughter.

******

The last thing you remember was Yoongi asking if you wanted to go to his place or yours–before everything went dark.

Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling.

As you adjust to the brightness of the room, you instinctively reach over by the nightstand to retrieve your phone to check for the time. It was a quarter past 8AM…and you were home…alone, as it seems when your head whips around to see the other side empty.

What happened?

You slowly pad your way into your living room. Maybe he was just trying to be polite and crashed on the couch.

Except, he wasn’t.

Did he just drop you off and leave? You clutch at your throbbing forehead. I’m getting too old for this shit, you thought to yourself. Still, you were worried about what happened to Yoongi.

You pull his number from your phone–at least, you think that you have his number.

“Aha,” you gasped when you find his name in your contacts list.

You realized it might still be too early but you thought you could just give him a call and leave him a voicemail just to make sure that he got home safely.

You open up your blinds to let get some more daylight in the room. By some twisted way, you found that it helped with your hangover.

While the other line trills, something catches your eye when you look out the window.

“Oh shit–” you say under your breath.

******

You approach his car and unsure whether to knock or let him be. He looked exhausted but you couldn’t just leave him out here.

You tapped your knuckles against the window and he immediately flinched. He looks around, seemingly surprised at his surroundings until his eyes land on you.

You gesture to open his door. When he does, you ask him, “Good morning. Would you like to come in for some coffee?”

******

He declines at first but you managed to convince him to come in. After a few sips of coffee, he insisted on cooking you breakfast.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet and didn’t have much in your fridge except for some eggs and cheese. You had a couple of slices of bread in the pantry so he makes the most out of it. He is appreciative of the effort and continues to tell you that you didn’t need to go out of your way.

“So, do you always make breakfast for girls you pick up from the club?” You joke.

“Not really,” he laughs. “I also don’t fall asleep in my car after I’ve dropped them off.”

“You know you were welcome to sleep on the bed or the couch,” you say casually. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Nah, you were passed out and I didn’t want you to think that I was taking advantage of the situation or anything like that,” he reasons.

You smiled at how respectful and thoughtful he was. “I appreciate that. And…thank you for bringing me home.”

“You’re welcome.”

******

Days later...

“Bro, are you sure you can meet the deadline?”

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon, then scratched the back of his neck to think before he gave him an answer. He was feeling stressed with this client because they were fussy about the design. It took at least a dozen iterations of the collection before they finally approved it.

The deadline was fast approaching and Yoongi had fallen behind with the work. He’d have to pay his guys overtime and maybe even work on some of the pieces himself in the evenings to cover more ground.

“Tell them not to worry. Besides, when have I ever missed a delivery date for them?” Yoongi walks away and back into the workshop to check on how the other projects were progressing.

Namjoon nodded at Yoongi’s logic. No matter how stressful it got for him, Yoongi always managed to deliver the goods, and clients were satisfied each and every time. ”Alright, I’ll let them know.” He types a text to the client and sends Yoongi’s response.

After sending it off, he turns his attention back to Yoongi. “Hey, so–how’d you make out last weekend? Are we cool?”

The question seems to take Yoongi by surprise. “Huh? Why wouldn’t we be?”

Namjoon laughed. “Bro, this is me apologizing for abandoning you for a girl.”

“Oh.” Yoongi suddenly recalls the events leading up to how the night ended. “Uhm–nah, we’re cool. Besides, I did just fine,” he adds casually.

His friend’s mouth spread into a Cheshire cat grin. “Oof–you hooked up, didn’t you?”

Yoongi’s face scrunched in confusion. “Naaww…”

His laughter boomed from his chest. “Bro, I know you’re lying! Lemme see! Is she on social media?”

Yoongi clicked his teeth and groaned. “It wasn’t even like that.”

“So you did meet someone!”

He sighed, exasperated with his friend’s teasing. “Fine, I did. But nothing happened! We just hung out and I took her home.”

Unconvinced, Namjoon’s voice rose a few octaves. ”Whaaatt? Wait–so this the first girl you’ve hooked up with since–”

Yoongi waved his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from finishing his thought. “For the last time–she and I did not hook up,” he clarifies firmly. “We just had a nice conversation over a few drinks. Then I drove her back to her place…where I made her breakfast.”

Namjoon doubles over in laughter. “And you’re telling me that nothing happened?”

“Swear to god! After giving me her address, she fell asleep on the way there and I just carried her in. I slept in my car.”

“Wow…” Namjoon breathes out. “Look at you being all chivalrous!”

Yoong snorted at the comment.

“So–are you gonna see her again or what?”

Before he could answer, Namjoon’s phone buzzed with a text from their client. He reads the message to Yoongi. “She asked if you can squeeze in a prototype for barstools?”

“Aish,” Yoongi says under his breath. “I mean…that technically wasn’t even…” he stops short. Instead of arguing, he drags out a sigh and relents. “You know what, fine. Tell her I’ll include it and bill her later.”

Namjoon types up Yoongi’s response, to which the client replies almost instantaneously. “Is he absolutely sure?” He read the text out loud, a wry look on his face.

Yoongi looked up at his friend and let out a grunt of annoyance. “Just fucking tell her ‘yes’.”

Namjoon nods and sends the response again. “I don’t know why I need to be your middleman here–”

“Well, you brokered this deal. And from the jump, they preferred to communicate this way, so…” he trailed off. After ensuring some quality control on his employee’s work, Yoongi walks back into his living space and flops himself onto the sofa. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Namjoon walks toward his friend and sits on the adjacent seat. “Is that really all there is to it?” His voice had a hint of concern and worry for his friend.

Yoongi turned his head and opened one eye to look at him.

“It’s been over a year. She’s moved on–”

“Clearly,” Yoongi deadpanned before closing his eye again.

Namjoon shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. “Well…aren’t you back in the dating scene? Can’t we all be grownups here?”

He let out a deep sigh, then opened his eyes again to dig his phone out of his back pocket. He didn’t think Namjoon’s question required an answer so he just scrolls through his screen.

Talking about his past relationship was a sore subject…even for Yoongi, whom his other friends thought to be typically aloof about these kinds of things. But sometimes, whatever one showed on the outside actually ran much deeper on the inside.

Shrugging, Namjoon takes Yoongi’s reticence as his cue to leave.

When the door shuts, Yoongi pauses his scrolling through his social media feed as his vision lands on a particular post. Damn algorithms got him again. He clicks on the account’s page and follows it.

Next, he types up a message and then hits ‘send.’

******

After work, you head over to a pub close to your office. You offered to meet Yoongi halfway from wherever he was coming from but said that he was happy to head over closer to where you were at.

He was already at the bar when you walked in, looking more relaxed than when you first saw him over the weekend. You weren’t much for guys with long hair but something about his hair being pulled back in a half-up/half-down bun became a contributing factor that held your attention.

You greet him with a hug, which he reciprocates. He asks what you want to drink. You glance at his whisky and decide to order an old-fashioned.

“You know, when you texted me this afternoon, I was a little surprised.”

“And why’s that?” He asks you.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you thought our night ended kind of weird.” You sat on the stool next to him, your legs crossed in his direction while you turned your glass on the bar’s surface with your fingers.

He laughed. “I’ll admit, I don't remember having a night like that…ever, I think?” Your eyes drift to his fingers that dance over the rim of his glass of whisky.

“Is that because you always score?”

He caught his lower lip with his teeth and inhaled. “I’ll tell you right now, if my best friend were here, he’d already fallen off his chair laughing.”

His comment made your eyebrows lift in surprise. You both took sips of your drinks. After you swallow, you ask, “On that note, how many serious relationships have you had?”

He nearly chokes on his drink, laughing awkwardly. “Oh, we’re at that level of comfort now?”

You lifted a shoulder. “Seemed like the conversation was headed there anyway. Might as well get there sooner!”

He laughs, then pauses to consider his answer. “I’ve had one.”

“One? That’s it?” You were incredulous. You found him attractive–and not in a novel way. He spoke calmly and even sagely at times. A good conversation these days was rare and often overlooked or easily forgotten. But he was someone you enjoyed talking to...and someone you hadn’t been able to get out of your mind in the last few days.

“Yeah. Just the one,” he replies.

“Wow…”

“Yep. We were going to get married and everything. But,” he let out a sharp breath, “She changed her mind.” He sighed, picked up his glass, and swirled the liquid in it. “She broke it off the day before…told me she couldn’t go through with it.”

You watched him throw his head back and polish off the rest of his drink. Your heart hurts for him and you didn’t have a smartass joke to say to lighten the mood.

“Anyway!” He sighed deeply, desperate for a subject change. “That was a long time ago. It’s all done and over with. She’s off doing her own thing, I’m doing mine. What about you? How many serious relationships have you been in?”

“Nine.”

His eyes widened. “Nine? Those were all serious?” He asks carefully.

“Yes,” you say confidently. “Why is that hard for you to believe?”

He scoffed. “I mean…you don’t look that old and you’ve been in nine serious relationships?”

“What does my age have to do with it?” You laughed.

“Well…usually, relationships span years–”

“That’s what you think,” you countered. “You think that in order for a relationship to be considered serious is the amount of time you’ve been with that person. I mean, couldn’t it just be the depth of connection with that person?”

That stopped him in his tracks. He let that thought sink in, then nodded gently. Meanwhile, you’re watching his facial expressions–the wheels turning in his head.

“I can still feel you silently judging me,” you chuckle.

“I’m not,” he says simply. “I’m certainly in no place to judge. You’re an adult, free to make your own choices. Besides, we’ve only just met.”

You smiled. “Fair point.”

“Although…I’m curious, if you don’t mind me asking.”

You shook your head and prompted him to continue.

“Out of all of those relationships, which one was your worst heartbreak?”

“Damn!” You laughed. “And here you are questioning whether we’ve known each other long enough to discuss these things?”

You both laugh at the thought. When you calm down, he says, “Touché. I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s fine, I’ll answer.” You downed the rest of your drink and turned your attention back to him. “The one that really did a number on me was my last relationship. We were together for about six months…” You paused to clear your throat, “until I found out that he was married.”

“Married? So you were someone’s mistress?”

“Unknowingly!” You contest. “Besides, I ended it as soon as I found out. I didn’t want to get tangled up in all that.” You winced at the memory. Not your finest moment but since then, you tried to be more vigilant about red flags.

“Well, like I said–it’s all in the past, right? The point is, we both got our hearts broken. End of story.”

You nodded in agreement before he switches gears. “Don’t you ever get scared?”

“Scared of what?”

“Repeating the whole process. You know, as someone who’s been in all of these relationships…don’t you ever get tired of starting from scratch every time? The whole getting to know each other, falling in love…then being faced with the possibility of things not working out.”

“I wonder about people who are afraid to put themselves out there again after getting hurt by love. I really don’t get that,” you say in jest.

He shrugs. “Who likes getting hurt? That’s not something rational people consciously wish for themselves.”

You sighed wistfully at the thought. “You know, I never understood why some people think of it that way. You know, trying to rationalize falling in love. Isn’t that counterintuitive? Love in itself is all about being spontaneous, irrational…reckless, even. The feeling of being completely wrapped up in the emotion and the moment–all because of one person. That includes all the fear, uncertainties…even the possibility of getting hurt. The experience of love isn’t complete without all that.”

He chuckled with his gummy grin. “Sounds like a huge gamble to me.”

“But if you never take that gamble, how will you ever experience the joy of winning big? How would you ever know what your heart is capable of taking if you’re always afraid of losing?”

He eyed you for a few seconds, letting your words sink in. “So you’re telling me that you’re willing to go through what could possibly be twice the amount of hurt–just to fall in love again?”

“Absolutely!” You declared with confidence.

You took another sip of your drink, then looked him straight in the eye. “I mean…you’re not thinking of hurting me, are you?” You ask him cheekily.

His eyebrow quirked in response. “Y-you’re asking me?” He chuckled nervously.

“Calm down! It’s just a rhetorical question,” you giggled.

You both laugh it off. Afterward, he pursed his lips and eyed you again. “But just so we’re clear…I don’t plan on it.”

His answer made your heart skip. You didn’t have any smart-ass quips to lob back at him.

After what seems to be an eternity of staring at each other in tense silence, he asks, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

******

He showed you around his modest place, where he had a full and, judging by the fresh sawdust on the tables, actively functional workshop. It was attached to a one-bedroom living space with a kitchen, a cozy living room, and a full bathroom. But by your assessment, it looked more like the living space was attached to the workshop.

“You sleep where you work?” You ask while looking at the work surface next to you.

He notices you looking at it so he leans over to swipe the sawdust off the table. “I didn’t see the point of going back and forth between places.”

“Yeah but it must be hard to live where you work and work where you live?”

He chuckles. “On the contrary, it’s more convenient for me. When I’m tired, I just lay on the couch. If I have trouble sleeping, I just come over here and tinker with stuff.”

You eyed him silently as he stood over the table, his hands spread wide while he supported his weight on them.

“I don’t know if I can do that. I need clear boundaries.”

“Don’t you bring work home from time to time?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes, if I’m on a tight schedule. But I try not to do it if I can help it. I prefer the idea of drawing that line where, once I walk out that door, that’s it. I’ll come back to it in the morning. Once I’m off work, I’m off work.”

He hummed. “That’s fair.”

You carefully move a small container of wood stain to the side then hop up on the table. After giving his studio another once-over, you turn your attention to him.

“What are you currently working on?”

He seems hesitant at first but decides to share a little bit. “I’m…trying to create a prototype for this light fixture,” he says vaguely.

“Really? Can I see?”

He chuckles, then paused to check if you were actually serious about looking at his designs. When your expression remained unchanged, he decides to reach past you to pull his sketchbook toward him. He flips through a few pages until he lands on a specific one.

The page has a rough sketch of a multi-tiered looking chandelier with what looked like wooden fringes, instead of what would typically be glass or crystal.

“So, I’m trying to focus on more natural materials like rattan, bamboo…I don’t know, maybe my friend, Namjoon, has been hanging around my studio too much,” he says in jest.

Your fingers brush the pencil lines on the page. His ideas were beautiful. They were modern yet had an old-world feel to them. His pieces didn’t look like something that was mass-produced. Each one had its own personality but all of them were crafted with artisanal care.

“You think you could work with these?” He asks quietly, his face an inch away from you.

“Oh, definitely,” you smiled. “My mind’s already buzzing with ideas.”

He looks down from your eyes to your mouth…then back up to your eyes again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper then take in his scent. “You smell nice. What is that?”

“Uhm, I don’t know…pine?” He answers before you close the gap between you to kiss him. You taste faint traces of whisky and citrus flavors in his mouth. His lips were soft and melded into yours, making you sigh into him. His kiss was as calm and gentle as his usual demeanor.

He presses his body closer to yours, making you tilt backward on the work table, spilling the can of wood stain on you. You gasp, startled at the feel of it on the side of your leg, and hastily hop off the surface.

“Fuck…I’m so sorry,” he says.

“I-it’s okay,” you stammer, grabbing onto your dress to assess the damage.

“No, it’s not. I ruined your dress.”

“Yoongi, it’s okay,” you say nonchalantly. “I can take it to the cleaners…” You inspect the stain while he goes to grab a paper towel. Who were you kidding? This was varnish. The dress itself was cheap but it was beyond salvageable.

You looked up to see him hovering over you. “Or we could just take it off?”

With his breath fanning your face, you fist at his shirt and pull him into you again. This time, his lips didn’t feel tentative–they were more ardent…hungrier. He lifts you off the worktable and you both stagger out of the workshop and toward his living space. The closest comfortable surface was couch so he lowers you both there.

You reach back to lower the zipper of your dress while he pulls his shirt off. When he tosses it to the side, helps you undress the rest of the way through.

His fingers laced around the back of your neck urging you closer to him. He moved from your mouth down to your neck, gently sucking the skin on your collarbone.

You felt a gush of moisture soak through you…you let go of every ounce of control that you hung onto because were desperate for him now.

With one swift move, he unclasps your bra and moves his mouth to your chest while he lowered you further until your head hit the armrest.

Your breath hitches as he wraps his plush lips around an aching nipple. You swore right then that you’d orgasm from the feeling alone…but he was just getting started.

You reach between both of you and undo the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them down.

He hooks his fingers onto your panties and you arch your back so he can slide them off. You were completely bare for him now, hypnotized by his desire for you at this moment.

You kept your eyes at him, unable to look away as pulls your legs apart and gave your inner thighs gentle kisses. He locked eyes with you and kept contact while you watched him sink his mouth onto your cleft.

You sucked in a harsh breath while he tongued you. You felt every lick and every suction of his mouth onto your moist, swollen lips.

Your walls clenched achingly at nothing while he continued to eat you out. Your breath began to stutter as you shamelessly bucked your hips against his mouth, desperate for a release.

You felt him dip two fingers into you…pulling them in and out lazily while his tongue fluttered over your clit.

Your body bowed when he alternated licking and sucking at your clit. It wasn’t long before your orgasm built up to a fever pitch. Your throat tightened, desperately trying to suck in air while your body tensed.

“Aaahh…gonna cum–fuck…”

You cried out hoarsely further as he got his last two licks in before you came down from your high. You were about to pass out from the pleasure when you saw him fish out a foil packet from his wallet.

You sat yourself up, meeting him halfway as he lined himself up between your thighs. You kissed him senselessly, your tongue fighting his for control.

Your mouth stilled as you felt him slowly enter you. You sucked in another breath while you felt that delicious stretch.

He urged you to lay back down while he pushed the rest of his length into you.

“Fuh…,” was all you managed to breathe out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head as shivers coursed through your body.

You looked back at him, a pained look on his face from how tight you were for him. You gave him a small nod of assurance to let him know that you were okay.

He started to move his hips slowly until he found a consistent rhythm.

He lowered himself further against your body and wrapped your leg around his waist. He thrusted in and out of you at a steady pace while your core tightened further around him along with another orgasm building up.

“Fuck, YN…feel so good,” he choked out in between breaths. He sealed his mouth onto yours, moaning in pleasure.

Your nails raked his back–from his shoulders and down to his hips that relentlessly railed into you.

“Fuck, don’t stop…don’t stop…” you gasped as you felt yourself edge closer to another orgasm.

Your muscles clenched around his cock while he repeatedly hit you deep into your core. You buck your hips into him, meeting him at every thrust while you both moan into each other’s mouths.

The next thing you knew, he had tipped you over the edge again.

His palms cup your ass, raising your hips to him. A few more thrusts and he was arching his back, pressing his forehead to yours as his own climax coursed through him.

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee, that he brought to you, bedside.

******

After that night, you spent many more going back and forth between his place and yours.

You went about both your days but talked all the time. You always made time to see each other–he’d work around your schedule and you’d work around his. Things were going so well and stress-free.

You didn’t feel the need to change the way you were around him and neither did he. Everything just came naturally to both of you.

Some days, you were unaware of how much time you spent together. Some weekends, you would just laze around and never leave the room. It was bliss.

“Jagiii!” You yell out from his bedroom, hoping he’d hear from the loud, grinding noise of his industrial sander.

He turns the machine off, flips his visor up, and pulls his earplugs out. “Yeah?” he bellowed from his workshop.

“Could I just have five minutes for a phone call?”

He gestures to his workshop assistant, telling him that he can take a break. “Alright, we’ll take five!” he says.

“You’re the best! Love you!”

“You owe me,” he teases.

“Just put in on my tab, jagiya,” you tease back.

******

Weeks later, you finally signed a lease for your new condo. Yoongi was on hand to help you move and get settled. You’d gone back and forth your old place to pick up smaller things that you didn’t load up in the big truck. The most important things were your larger furniture anyway.

Yoongi was tinkering with the internet connection in the second bedroom while you stood quietly in the midst of the expansive space, surrounded by boxes. It was getting dark out but you hadn’t installed your blinds yet so the moonlight illuminated the room. You stared out the window and into the glittering city lights.

“Why are you standing out here in the dark?” Yoongi flicks the light switch on.

“No, no–turn it back off.” He does so tentatively. “Is everything okay?” He approaches you carefully from behind, wrapping his arms around you. You lean your head back against him and sighed. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. Just…trying to take it all in as everything calms down again.”

“Are you tired?” He nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod.

“Yeah, I can smell the dried sweat from your forehead,” he says before you poke him in his side, making him laugh out loud.

“I’m kidding,” he smiles, grabbing onto your waist and turning you around to face him. “Are you happy?”

“I am.” You plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you for helping me today.”

“Of course. Even if you didn’t ask me to, I still would have done it.”

“I know but this is a huge deal for me. After all these years of hard work, I’m finally upgrading my home.”

“That’s great. I’m very proud of you for doing that. And you know,” he glances past your shoulder and jerks his chin at your windows. “I can totally make you some custom blinds, too. None of that plastic, vinyl shit. I can use bamboo so it’s cooling but also great for insulation. Very sustainable, too.”

You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Mmm…keep talking eco-friendly to me, Mr. Min…”

“Well…” he brushes his lips against yours, “If you like that, wait ‘til you hear about the reclaimed wood we’re using for this new commission.”

You threw your head back and moaned. “Ooh…yes…keep going.”

Chuckling, he dipped his head and leaves a trail of kisses down your exposed throat. “Why don’t we take this back in the bedroom and I can show you what else we can do with some wood.”

You start cackling at his comment and before you know it, he picks you up off your feet and you stumble into your room and stayed there until the sun came up.

Now…

In a panic, Yoongi heads to one corner of the gallery to search for his friend. “Namjoonah!”

Namjoon’s head whips around to see Yoongi headed for him. He excuses himself from the current conversation he was having. “Hey, Yoongi–”

Immediately, Yoongi pulls Namjoon right by the bathrooms to scold him. “Bro, that’s not cool. I wish you told me that YN was going to be here.”

“If I had told you, would you have come out tonight?”

Yoongi scoffed, “Of course, I still would have,” his voice went up a higher register, making Namjoon snicker. “I just…I wish you would have given me a warning so I could have been, I don’t know, better prepared!”

“Prepared for what? You guys have been broken up for years. Besides, you’ve always known that she and Hyejin are friends. You should have at least expected her to be here so I don’t know why you’re all bothered. Unless of course you not over her yet?”

Yoongi remains adamant. “Dude, of course, I’m over her! I just got caught off-guard, that’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re not still thinking about her?”

“Fuck no! Are you kidding? You know I can’t stand her! She’s too loud, a terrible cook…not to mention that she has way too much drama in her life.”

Namjoon snorted. “And you didn’t?”

Yoongi shakes his head dismissively. “Whatever, dude–I’m just not all about that. My new motto in life is to stay drama-free, you know?”

He gives Yoongi a skeptical smile. Just then, the bathroom door opens behind them.

The color from Yoongi’s face drains as he gets the shock of his life when he sees you emerge.

You stood there smirking while Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged looks.

“Uh, sorry, guys–I think I need to use the bathroom.” Namjoon says, stifling a laugh while he cuts in between you two and shuts the door.

Yoongi remained standing in awkward silence, trying to will the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“I thought you liked it when I was loud for you?” With that, you walk past him and disappear into the crowd.

Then…

“I can’t hear you, baby…come on…let me hear how good I make you feel.”

“Ahhh…f-fuck…” You cried out loudly, body stiffening, with your fingers grasping Yoongi’s hair at the roots while his tongue teases the last pulses of your orgasm.

“There you go…good girl.”

You and Yoongi were planning to have a quiet night in but Hyejin invites you out at the last minute, saying that you haven’t had a proper girls’ night in a while. Thinking about it now, it’s been over a month since you met up with her. Most of your nights were preoccupied with Yoongi these days.

When Yoongi couldn’t convince you to stay in, he asked if you needed a ride there and you decline, saying that Hyejin offered to pick you up.

When you stepped out of the room and he sees you in your outfit, a dark cloud overcomes him. He grabs you by the waist, lifts you onto the kitchen counter, and moving your panties aside, dives right in.

He helps you off the counter and you smooth your dress. You glance downwards and see the bulge in his pants.

“Hey, let me take care of that.” You reach out to cup him but he catches your hand and lifts it up to his lips to kiss it.

You’re suddenly torn between walking out the door and wanting to stay to suck him off…deep. The latter option sounded more appealing as you felt your mouth water at the thought of him fucking your mouth.

He pulls you in close and presses his hard-on against you. You let out a small whine of protest. His tongue grazed his lower lip before sinking his teeth into it.

He tutted. “Come home to me later and I’ll give you what you want.” His voice made it sound like a warning…a warning that you were tempted to ignore just to find out what he would do to you for ignoring it. The idea excited you so much that you felt heat pooling between your legs again.

“Are you sure? I still have a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Hyejin,” you smile sweetly, your lips brushing against his jawline.

“I’m sure. Now go before I change my mind,” he says in jest.

“Okay,” you acquiesce.

Right before you walk away, he takes your mouth and kisses you hard. You couldn’t help but lick traces of your arousal from his lips.

When he pulls away, you are breathless and weak in the knees–more so after that orgasm that he gave you minutes ago.

******

You hadn’t noticed that Hyejin stopped mid-sentence to eye you as you giggled at your phone screen while you exchanged spicy texts with Yoongi. You finally look up and meet her gaze.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’,” she says in a mocking tone. “I’ve been blabbing up a storm here and you’re all heart-eyes, drooling over your phone there.” She tilts her chin up to get a look at your text screen and you immediately pull it close to your chest.

She scoffed then laughed. “Oh my gooood…you are so whipped for him!”

You roll your eyes at her. “I am not!”

She laughed even louder at your response. “Oh come on, YN! How long have we been friends? I can tell whether you’re just feeling a buzz between your legs or if you’re really into someone. And right now, I know that you are so down bad for him,” she declares.

You feel your cheeks ignite. It wasn’t because of the alcohol but because you knew she was right.

You sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine! So we’re a little obsessed with each other, big deal.”

You started to gush over your relationship. “I just love how much he cares. He checks in, asking whether I’ve eaten yet. He cooks for me…then, he tells me when he misses me. It’s nice. It feels nice to feel needed, you know?”

Hyejin nods. “Well, that’s all because you guys are still in that honeymoon phase!”

You scoff, dipping your fingers into your glass and flicking droplets of cold water at her. “Bitch! You’re so negative!”

She throws her head back in laughter. “I’m kidding, babe! You know me. Seriously, I’m happy for you. Now…” she cleared her throat. “Does he have a single hot friend that you know of?”

******

The following weekend, you convince Yoongi to come with you on a walking tour of a museum exhibiting gothic renaissance art. You were looking for some inspiration for your next project. You saw an ad online and decided it couldn't hurt to go exploring for a bit. It was also a nice excuse to pull him away from his workshop.

“Uhh…” Yoongi croaks tentatively. “I don’t know exactly what it is we’re looking at,” he laughs while cocking his head from one side to the other, trying to decipher the exhibit in front of you.

“Neither do I, jagi,” you giggled, glancing at the museum brochure. “I don’t know, I’m just trying to get some inspiration for this restaurant revamp. They currently have this old western theme…which is strange because they serve pizza and pasta.”

Yoongi laughs. “That concept doesn’t even make sense!”

“I know! But the owner’s daughter is a bit more modern and she’s totally up for a theme change.” You’ve talked to Yoongi about this new contract for weeks now and it’s finally happening. He was excited to bounce ideas off you to the point where you pulled him in as a supplier for the rebrand.

Even though the daughter was pushing for a more modern twist, her father, the restaurant’s current owner, wants to keep some traces of that classic feel to it.

“So, no saloon doors?” Yoongi says sarcastically.

You threw your head back in laughter. “Definitely not! The daughter would fire me. I was thinking we can bring in your natural concepts with that wooden fringe chandelier sketch that you were working on.”

His hand linked with yours, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it, making you grin like a lovestruck teenage girl. “Sounds good to me.”

You walk out of the museum and stood on the sidewalk, intending to walk a block over to a theater, not to see a show but to look at the architecture. The theater had a classic art deco design that would come in handy for your moodboard. You convinced Yoongi to make it part of your chill date before heading back to your place for dinner.

As you approach the end of the block, you are nearly run over by a man pushing a stroller that rounded the corner.

“Hey, watch it,” Yoongi exclaims protectively.

“Oh, I’m sor–YN?”

You suck in a breath. “Soonyoung, h-hi.”

“Hey! Wow…it’s been a while. Uh…h-how’ve you been?” He asks.

“Uhm…g-good,” you stammer. “You?” Then your eyes flick nervously over to the stroller that had a sleeping baby in it. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” he smiled. “Uh–so–”

“Yeobo!”

You whip your head around to see a woman come out of the restaurant that you were standing in front of. She walked towards Soonyoung and the stroller.

“Hi,” she greets you and Yoongi, then turns to Soonyoung waiting for him to introduce her.

“This is my wife, Naeyeon. Yeobo, this is YN. She’s an old friend.” She smiles at you then her eyes shift to Yoongi.

Somehow, your brain lurches forward. “This is Yoongi,” you say to both of them while you stood across from them. “My boyfriend.”

“So great to meet you both!” She says with a warm smile.

“Anyway, we should go before we miss our reservation, Nae. It’s good to see you again, YN,” Soonyoung says in a hurry before he and his family walk around you and into the restaurant.

******

Since that awkward run-in with Soonyoung, Yoongi has been uncharacteristically short with you for the rest of the day.

When you get back to your place, he sets the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Afterward, he picks up the to-go bags that contained your dinner.

You watched him quietly lay out the containers on your dining table, along with the disposable utensils, setting place settings for you and him.

He sits down and pulls his chopsticks apart. “We should eat before the food gets cold,” he says without looking up at you.

You wordlessly take the seat adjacent to him. He immediately puts a dumpling on your plate before he serves himself.

He pauses as if remembering something. He rose from his chair and moved toward the kitchen.

“Do you want a beer?”

“Just water is fine,” you answer blandly while staring at the lone dumpling on your plate.

He returns to the table, setting a glass of water next to you, and immediately takes a long swig of his drink after he sits back down.

He grabs so more food and puts it on his plate, pausing to offer you some but you decline. All this time, he still hasn’t made eye contact with you.

Unable to withstand it anymore, you push your plate aside to finally ask, “Something the matter?”

He doesn’t answer and instead continues to chew his food quietly.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”

He swallowed his food only to say, “Not now, YN.” He takes another bite.

You pursed your lips and gently press him again. “Look, if we have a problem here, we need to talk about it. We’re both adults here–”

“YN, I said, not now,” he says more sternly. Catching himself, he leans against the back of the chair, throwing his head back and rubbing his eyes. He regrets snapping at you. With a heavy sigh, he finally meets your gaze. “I’m sorry I…” he hesitates but finally gives into that nagging feeling in him. “Was that him?”

You give a small nod. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “You should have introduced me as your boyfriend sooner!”

You scrunch your face in surprise. “Why does the timing even matter? The point was that I introduced you, right?”

His voice grew louder. “If you introduced me sooner, he'd take it as a sign not to make stupid small-talk or-or...even think about trying to start shit with you again!”

“Geez, Yoongi. Why would you even think like that? Clearly, the man was right there with his wife and kid. It was a short, very random run-in that will probably never happen again.” You maintained a calm tone.

“That’s what you think.”

“Excuse me?” You started to grow irate at how unreasonable he was starting to sound. “Yoongi–I’m with you, not him. I love you, not him. I don’t understand why we’re making a huge deal out of this!”

He stood there silently, his hands on his waist, nostrils flaring with every breath he took. The seconds tick by and before you try to reason with him, he huffs and walks into the bedroom, the door slamming.

*****

After you store the takeout containers in the fridge, you enter the bedroom to find him lying on the bed with his back toward you. He doesn’t turn to face you or say anything so instead, you shower and get changed. When you get under the covers, you turn on your side so you faced the opposite direction.

A few minutes of silence and staring at your nightstand, you hear him let out a deep sigh before speaking. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did earlier.”

His apology pinches your chest but you keep your back toward him. “You know, just because I hooked up with a married man before doesn’t mean that I’m itching to do it again. So I froze when I saw Soonyoung, but that’s only because I hadn’t seen him since I broke it off and to add to that, his wife was right there. What did you expect me to do?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got jealous and–I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”

It was then that you rolled over to face him.

“Look…I made a stupid mistake a while ago but as soon as I was aware of it, I walked away and I grew from that. I thought that my being completely honest with you from the very beginning was a way to build trust between us…and that I had nothing to hide. But…” Your voice started to waver, “If you’re only going to use that against me, then I don’t think–”

“No, no–” He engulfs you in his arms immediately. As the warmth emanating from his body coursed through you, you couldn’t help but cry into his chest.

“Aw, baby…I’m sorry. I love you. I won’t question that again. And I do appreciate your honesty.”

You lifted your head and tilted your chin up to him. “I love you, too, Yoongi.”

There was nothing you could do to change the past but as he rocked you to sleep, you wondered if you were right to be open and honest with him from the beginning …or was it a careless mistake? Should you have put your best foot forward first and pretended to be perfect instead?

At your age, you learned that being up-front with your relationship expectations prevented less hurt if things went south. If either party decides that any of those expectations was a dealbreaker, you moved on, and no harm was done.

You only hoped that Yoongi felt the same.

Tags: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @yoongukie-ff @deepseavibez @miksancheese @shesoldbutcute @yu-justme @joonschocochip

Part 2 ◥ | Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

#bts fanfiction #yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts angst #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #myg angst #myg smut #stalemate x myg

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yoongsisbae · 1 year

Text

BTS (as drinks)

because I’m in a silly mood

Namjoon is champagne. He's the whole bottle. A tall glass of perfection, full-bodied, sweet, and strong. Piercing eyes watching you over the rim. You drink him in, his sleek suit, his honey voice, impressive in everything he does, and the way he notices the small things about you. He offers to pay for another, already knowing what you like. You found each other in empty bar in a nice restaurant in an even nicer hotel. It's enticing, you share a confession and a laugh, in high spirits. You listen, drunk on, what is it? This feeling bubbling, a seltzer inside of you that makes you jittery every time you catch his eyes staring at your legs. You cheers one last time in the quietness of his suite. You know how this will end, but you hope maybe he will find a taste for you like you have now of him. That he will seek you out as his favorite drink. You hope his eyes that watched you so curiously all night, now watching as you fall apart under him, never look at another. He tickles the back of your throat, has you gasping for more. Is it too much to ask of him? For another round of him?

Seokjin is Tequila on a bright summer day. A knockout, too pretty, too smooth. The type of man you should savor. But it was quick, sudden introduction. You tipped your head back into his wide shoulder, pleading eyes meeting his surprised face. He wraps his arm around your body, lips meeting in a chaste kiss, your mysterious patron scaring away a sour nuisance to your left. At first meeting you already understood each other completely, you hadn’t known it fully then, too tipsy in that moment. You share a shot to thank him, and somehow your act becomes something more, your friendly banter becomes something more, and with every pour, your lie turns into truth, he feels it and so do you. It started as an act, but now it just feels right. Right place, right time. You stay by his side, he makes excuses keep you close, buys you another round, his smile bright and warm. Laughter that makes your sides hurt. Kisses that make your heart jump. Embraces that make your knees weak. The sun sets and kisses turn heated, mouths molding together, tongues licking salty skin, drinking each other in.

Yoongi is smooth nightcap right before bed. A glass of whisky on the rocks he pours for you and him. You tell each other your worries, caressing smooth skin, his love warms you under the covers. He whispers sweet praise that fills you up with him. Sweet affirmations against your belly button, hands trickling down your body. You hiss in contentedness, fingers twisting in his hair. His voice is suave and silky, like the sheets wrapped around your bodies. His sharp tongue moves smoothly, makes you wine against him. He is your drink of choice, you would choose him, every day, every night.

Hoseok is club drinks on a friday night. Expensive and sweet, designer, rich. Hands moving your swaying body to the music, his hot breath against your temple. He is the life of the party, he lifts you up, excites you, makes your palms sweat and your body pulse. You laugh too loudly, dance too closely, look into each others' eyes, neon club lights shining within his dark gaze. If he's a bad decision, you don't care, if this high lasts only for tonight, you don't mind, because his wide grin and close body delights your senses, and by the way he looks at you and holds you possessively, you just know, next weekend you will indulge again.

Jimin is Soju. Friends at home, homemade dinner and a full case you intend to finish. You go shot for shot, wanting to see more of the side he only shows when his walls are worn down, when you have enough liquid courage to encourage him. You knock into each other, bodies like magnets, impossible to pull away, hands lingering for much longer than either of you intend. You lean into him when he hugs you in jest. He tickles you, to tease you, but also because he wants to feel your suppleness, needs to hear your sweet laughter, wants to watch you writhing and gasping. The reasons why you can’t keep your hands away are ignored, too shy to speak them. Even when he kisses you, you pretend it’s the alcohol talking, even when you pull him in by the neck, you blame the empty bottles. But you can’t deny, you’re not a drinker, and he’s the taste you crave.

Taehyung is white wine on a starry night. Smooth notes sung against your cheek, smile tickling your ear, hands around your waist, deep soft chuckles and eyes watching you instead of the stars. A galaxy in his irises that spreads warmth down your body, wholly intoxicated by his presence. There's a deep sense of belonging as your lips sip his love slowly, as you take your time savoring your moments with him, like this life with him was meant to be romanticized, cherished, celebrated at every waking moment. A blanket, cheese, bread, his jacket around your shoulders and Taehyung, always the perfect accompaniment.

Jungkook is a glass of cold beer. Solo cups in the kitchen, shy eyes meeting each other above the rim. Foam on his lip licked away and youthful charm about him. Exploring eyes that lead to exploring hands and exploring lips. Bodies pressed tightly to one another as you speak, cupped hands over ears, teasing each other, flirtatious dares, propositions spoken through slurred smiles. You didn't notice how strong of a connection it was until you were knocked off your feet by him. You sit in a foreign bedroom, kissing and spilling, fingers dipping into one another's cup, a sloppy game of passion and giggles. The music dulls when you're having a taste of each other, your body numb by the pleasure he pours into you. Tomorrow morning when you wake up with matching bruises, your cups empty but your hearts now full, the memories will be hazy, but you'll still feel it, that strong connection that has you both questioning just how bad you're addicted.

[masterlist|as kisses|as holidays]

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i9messi · 1 year

Text

Stay — Mason Mount

You and Mason are supposed to be just friends but you suddenly kiss each other while both of you are drunk.

Word count — 1k

Warnings — alcohol, being drunk

a/n: should i write a second part? let me know!

mason's masterlist

You and Mason were friends, at least, that’s what you were supposed to be. For the rest of the world things were a little obvious, they could notice the looks you had and the chemistry you had with each other. You were always present at Chelsea games, supporting him, and he was there for you whenever you needed him in your own activities. You knew you could count on each other, always.

You ended up at a party with your friend, where you barely knew any people. You had started drinking a little too much, while Mason stood next to you with a glass of beer.

"Are you sure you should be putting something that shade into your body?"

Mason seemed skeptical of the neon color of the drink and you laughed, already feeling the effects of the drinks you had before. You approached him and put your head on his shoulder.

"I’m okay, sir. You should have more fun, you can go with your other friends if you want. There is no need to babysit me." At that point you were dragging the words.

"I'm not babysitting you, I'm having fun here."

It didn’t take Mason long to follow your steps, after a while you both laughed at anything and found it hard to stay standing casually. He was drunk too. You loved him so much that it was hard to pretend that man didn’t make you feel anything.

"Is it the alcohol or are your eyes always this pretty? You’re so handsome, Mase."

Mason smiled and you knew there was no turning back, you were openly flirting with him.

"Y'know wha- I’ve alway thought you were the prettiest person around. You’re really stunning, beautiful and gorgewous."

Seeing Mason drunk was like seeing Mason acting like a baby, his eyes were brighter and he was yelling at you, thinking you couldn't hear him. Not forgetting to mention that he hadn’t been able to say gorgeous properly. By that time, everyone within a few feet of you had heard what he had told you. You laughed and you couldn’t stop, Mason just started laughing too and complained that his belly hurt as a result of it.

Knowing that Mason thought you were pretty was a lot more than you could handle, you were one shot away from telling him the whole truth. You wanted him to be yours, like more than a friend.

"You’re being mean." He complained when you told him he was a baby and left you a kiss on the cheek.

"And you’re acting dumb."

"But you still love me if I’m dumb?"

"Dumb and all, I love you, Mase."

A group of people came up to Mason to talk to him, and as he presented himself to the so-called Chelsea fans, you grabbed another drink and drank it like water. That gave you even more courage.

"Hey, do you wanna play a game?" a stranger asked you two and you agreed.

You started playing ping pong with those strangers and ended up winning, making you celebrate and run to hug your friend. You didn’t know how it happened and where the idea came from, but in your way of celebrating the victory you got close to Mason and you suddenly kissed him on the lips. Mason was stunned, watching you walk away from him and acting like you hadn’t kissed him moments before.

Well, you were a little embarrassed but happy at the same time.

It was the first kiss, the first time you had kissed each other and he liked it too much. Mason was so happy that you kissed him, that he started smiling and brought his hands to his cheeks, unable to contain the emotion and smiles. He was so in love with you that at any moment he was able to confess his feelings. He was a drunk whose best friend had kissed his lips.

"Did you just kiss me?" he asked, still smiling.

"I need to pee!"

As much as you felt more confident with liquid reinforcement, also called alcohol, a little voice in your head kept reminding you that you were best friends. However, Mason was already imagining the ways in which he could tell you that you were the love of his life. Maybe he was the drunkest and clingy of the two.

When you came back from the bathroom, of course, backed by the footballer like a bodyguard, Mason started hugging you and leaving kisses on your cheeks.

"I love you, I really love you."

"I didn’t know you were a clingy drunk." you admitted, feeling your heartbeat.

"I’m not." Mason fended off your accusation, stumbling at his own feet.

However, when you came home in an Uber, he pushed you in because he said it was too late for you to go home alone. According to your friend, the best thing was to stay in the same house and take care of each other while you were in that state. You walked him to bed, because he could barely stand and needed you. Mason lay down and closed his eyes, while you went to get water in the fridge and then lay down on the couch.

You weren’t even lying alone on the couch for two minutes, you felt someone approaching you. Mason tried to make room on the couch but as he was very tall, he didn’t fit too well. You looked at him with a smile and hugged him, reducing the distance between you two, a little because you were going to give him space in the coach and a little because you wanted to keep him close.

"I want to stay with you all my life, at least tonight." Mason told you.

"Fine, clingy."

"I’m not... well, just a bit. I’m clingy because I love you."

You took his statement as if it was just something friends said, not knowing that Mason loved you much more than as friend.

It was going to be fun when tomorrow morning both realized about the kiss.