#jigsaw wc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dongfuck · 2 years ago

Text

fuck… or die - l.dh

pairing: fem!reader x bestfriend!haechan

genre: thriller, smut, fluff, angst

warnings: pwp, hyuck calls reader ‘darling’, upside down throat fucking, loads of kissing, begging (m), slight clit play, slight grinding, cock play, slight boob play, unprotected sex, nipple play (m,f), switch!hyuck, slight degradation, teasing, cum inside, finger sucking

wc: 7.4k

note: i have not watched a second of jigsaw in my life so please don’t mind the made-up scenarios of mine :))

tagging: @tenlee77 , @readingaroundsstuff , @xxxooogossiogirlx , @blibbleboop , @yixingtion , @liz-zo , @l33j3n8 , @xhanjisungiex , @moyasamotnist , @puduwhore , @02mrk , @manggaetteokpjm , @brokndolls , @broke-multistan , @injunier , @hall0ween-twn , @najmsshoulders , @hyuckdolle , @crzns , @bbhbungee , @ohbiebersensual , @fnafgirl87 , @renjunniex , @buns-inhiding , @aspe2063 , @strwberripeachmilk , @mawnehkah , @jaybrwn , @odgsuji , @dinonuguaegi , @d1etcokewhore , @jenoxygen , @yourbeomiebear , @hchanlvr , @jenzyoit , @yeyeyyy , @kooookie , @stolasisyourparent , @jaylaxies , @lislis80 , @haechansfingers , @zkdlllin , @terresias , @annenakamura , @glitching-wren , @multifandomania06 , @harrypinks , @gishona , @farsals , @archxri

You were so bored out of your mind to the point where you’d let like you could literally rip your hair out just to kill the boredom. You’d attempted a record number of things for the past two and a half hours but you somehow still couldn’t find anything that piqued your interest. Alas, you resorted to the one thing that you were sure could help you. With a sigh, you reached for your phone and dialled your best friend’s number. The phone pressed to the left side of your ear, you waited for him to pick up as the ringing continued. Just as you were about to get impatient, Donghyuck finally answered the phone.

“Yeah?” He spoke in a breathy voice. “Hey, Hyuck. Are you busy?” You asked as you twirled the hem of your shorts. “N-No… Not e-exactly…” Donghyuck let out groans and moans between each word and you felt a little suspicious of him at that moment but decided not to point it out yet. “Um, okay, well, how do you’d feel about house exploring?” You asked with a bite of your lip. “Abandoned houses.” You clarified. “Abandoned house exploring? Shit um— I don’t know, Y/n, d-don’t you think that’s a-a little— fuck— dangerous?” His voice sounded shaky when he spoke and you figured you should finally question him about it.

“Hyuck, what the fuck are you doing?” You squinted your eyes knowing damn well he couldn’t see you. “Huh?” His mere sound of confusion sounded more of a whimper rather than anything and you visibly cringed at the sound. “No, it’s just… You sound like you’re…” Before he got the chance to reply, you heard a loud groan, louder than the ones before, coming from him followed by a sound of something heavy clanking against the ground. “I’m at the gym.” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d you think I was doing?” He chuckled on the other line. “Nothing, I just—” You barely concealed the stutter in your voice when he suddenly cut you off.

“Did you enjoy that?”

That single question was what caught you off guard. You were so driven out of your mind that all you could do was have your jaw hung wide open as you stared at the black screen of the TV in front of you. You heard Donghyuck break out into an amused laugh as you were still trying to process what he’d just said. “Y/n? Y/n! I was joking!” He laughed again. “You were saying something about exploring haunted houses?” Finally able to regain your senses, you blinked multiple times before responding. “An abandoned house. Singular. You think we’d have the time to go through multiple?” You stated matter-of-factly. “Yeahh I’m not sure… It’s a bit risky, don’t you think? I mean… what if something happens to you? Or worse… Me!”

“Nothings gonna happen to us, Hyuck. Worse case scenario, we’d just end up lost in the area.”

“And that does not sound dangerous to you??”

After a lot of convincing, you were finally able to get Donghyuck to agree with you. “Great! Pick me up tomorrow at ten.” You said giddily. “Yeah, yeah, see ya.” Just as he was about to end the call, you suddenly got a bright idea. “Actually, Hyuck, can I spend the night at yours?”

As you stepped into Donghyuck’s one-storey house, you eyes immediately drift to the pile of clothes scattered on the floor. “God, it’s a mess!” You walked over to the clothes and carefully placed them in one place at the corner of the living room as you heard Donghyuck lock the front door behind him. “Now this is what I call, Donghyuck’s Mojo, Dojo, Casa, House.” He said as he plopped himself onto one of the sofas with his arms spread out behind him on either sides. “Disgusting.” You grimaced as you walked over to the guest bedroom and threw your bag on the bed before sitting yourself on the edge of it. With a sigh, you closed your eyes and slowly descended your body onto the comfort of his bed.

Donghyuck’s place always appeared to be cozy, homey, warm, and inviting to you. No matter how messy it was sometimes, it was still your second home. If you had to choose between Donghyuck’s house and anywhere else in the world to live in, excluding your own, you’d definitely pick your best friend’s house. Even the house you grew up in couldn’t compare to how comfortable and welcomed you feel whenever you’re in his house. Cracking open your eyes the slightest bit, you were met with a pair of eyes staring right back at you. Those eyes turned out to be owned by a man that seemed to be hovering over you. “Boo.” He said before he was pushed to the ground with all the strength you could muster inside you.

With a yelp, you pulled up both your legs from the ground and kept them close to your body. A wince along with a whine was heard coming from the man you just shoved before you got the chance to scan his figure clearly. That fucking bastard, you thought as you launched cushions and pillows his way. “You fucking idiot! Why the fuck would you do that?! You could’ve given me a heart attack y’know! Who’d be responsible of that then?!” Your chest raised and dropped before you sat yourself down once again. “Chillax, mama. It was a joke!” Donghyuck rubbed his bottom, probably from the impact of hitting the ground before standing up on his own two feet. “What did you just call me?” You felt your left eye twitching before you got up and slowly made your way towards him with the last pillow in your right hand.

“Mama?”

That was the last word he’d managed to let out before all hell broke loose.

You laid your head in the palm of your hand as you awaited the arrival of your best friend on his sofa. You always found him cute… and sometimes even attractive, but you’d never admit that out loud. There was no reason for you to do so. People often assumed the two of you were dating seeing how close you two were but you’d simple wave them off, telling them how stupid they sound. After all, you’re just friends. And you’re confident Donghyuck feels the same way. A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your train of thoughts. “You’re here.” You stood up with a smile plastered on your face. “Yep. Let’s go.” Donghyuck wrapped an around your shoulder and walked the both of you out the front door.

The night was pitch black with the moon shining brightly behind the thick grey clouds. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked as the both of got into his car. The vehicle was given to him on his 19th birthday and you clearly remember the wide and prominent grin on his face when he’d received it. You remember how happy he looked. You remember how you’d do anything to see that smile of his again. “Positive.” You rolled off and nodded slightly in assurance. To yourself, rather than anyone else. A low chuckle sounded from the man next to you that made you glance toward him with narrowed eyes. “What’s so funny?” You asked jokingly. “Nothing, it’s just that I find it cute how you’re so confident about this whole haunted house exploring thing.” On some other days, your stomach would twist and turn at the sound of him calling you cute; but this was not the right time. Not when you’re setting your paranormal-activist mood on.

“The house is not haunted, it’s just abandoned.” You had your arms crossed against your chest as you kept your eyes trained on the dark road in front of you. Donghyuck is known for his decent driving skills; unless he’s furious or drunk. That’d turn him reckless. “Same thing.” He shrugged. Rolling your eyes, you felt your eyelids growing heavier by the minute and in the span of seconds, you dozed off. It wasn’t long (at least to you it wasn’t) before Donghyuck woke you up from your slumber, letting you know that you’ve reach your destination. “Fuck, this place is terrifying.” He cursed under his breath. “Let’s check it out.” Just as you were about to open the car door, you felt a cold hand gripping your arm as you shared eye contact with the man next to you before he asked you for the second time that night.

“You sure about this?”

Giving him your most assuring smile, you nodded and lifted his hand away from your skin and tapped it gently. “I have zero doubts, Hyuck.” You threw him one last smile before exiting the vehicle and taking in the sight in front of you. Little did you know that you would regret saying that later. Donghyuck was right. It is terrifying. Horrifying, even. You sucked in a breath of nervousness when the boy came up next to you, brushing the back of your palm with his. Stealing a glance down at your watch, you sighed at the time. It was precisely eleven o’clock in the evening. “Come on, we’ve got no time to waste.” You marched toward the house opposite you with an anxious Donghyuck trailing behind you. And just like that, the two of you found yourselves at the doorway of the closest thing to hell. That may be an exaggeration.

The house looked like it had been used for balls and dances back in the day. It used to be beautiful, you could feel that thought throbbing in your bones. A sense of grief, mesmerisation, and… longing somehow washed over you. You had the barest idea of where it had come from and you weren’t sure if Donghyuck felt it too. Shaking away that thought, you whipped out your phone and turned on the flash as Hyuck did the same. You made your way to some of the picture frames on the wall and figured out well, nothing. The photographs presented pictures of kids. Some in a straight line, some in a circle, a few were playing around. Though weirdly enough, they were all of different children. You tried to understand it but you couldn’t comprehend how not even one of them were in two or more pictures.

Ignoring that fact, you walked up the stairs and continued looking at the dozens of frames, brushing you fingers over one of them that had so much dust, you could barely see the photograph. “Y/n, maybe we shouldn’t be touching these st—” Immediately, you shushed him with a glare before further examining the pictures. This one was a group of children as well, the only thing different this time though, was that a man was standing with his left hand wrapped around a little boy. A masked man. The mask wasn’t at all pleasing to the eye, but for some reason, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. It was disgusting, really, but there was something trying to lure you to him and you can confidently say that it’s working. Although, the more you looked, the uneasy you felt so you blinked away the sight from your mind and checked for the boy behind you.

“Hyuck?” You called out softly as you watched him looking a little too closely one of the picture frames. “Right behind you, darlin’.” Donghyuck took two steps of the stairs at a time before meeting with you at the top. “This place is giving me the chills. He pretend-shivered as he looked around the top floor. “It’s supposed to.” You took a deep breath before you walked towards one of the close doors. Pushing it slightly, the door parted just by an inch before it slammed shut forcefully on itself. The sudden sound startled the both of you so much that you almost shoved Donghyuck down the stairs. “Woah, easy there, Y/n. You got a grudge on me or somethin’?” He held both of your shoulders to prevent you from jerking back too much as he laughed softly. “Sorry, I—” Instead of giving you time to finish he dragged you into a brightly lit room at the end of the hall.

“What is this?” You’d asked the moment you step foot in the room. The walls were coloured white with countless amounts of graffiti drawn onto them. Weirdly enough, the room was… clean and well-ventilated as well, unlike the rest of the house. It looked like someone was living here. You spotted an air conditioner which was turned on and was set to 24°C. A shiver ran through your spine as you thought of all the possibilities that someone or something might have turned on the AC and kept this place clean. Who would be paying for electricity for a house like this? Other parts of the house didn’t seem to have electricity. You did as much as trying the lights earlier which didn’t seem to work. Everything just didn’t click in your mind.

“Well this is cozy.” Your eyes drifted to your best friend who had placed himself comfortably on a sofa at the end of the room. “Hyuck!” Making your way towards him, you pulled him to his feet and looked at him with furrowed brows. “You can’t just act like you’re at home! Look around! Don’t you find this a bit odd?” You paced around the room until you found yourself sitting cross-legged on the floor. Donghyuck had sat back on the sofa with a lollipop he pulled out from his pocket stuffed between his lips. “You’re overreacting. Look at the bright side! We get to spend our time here! In this surprisingly comfortable room!” He smiled.

You thought him crazy. He must’ve lost his mind. “Fine. You can stay here all you want. I’m leaving.” Seeing you stand up and walk towards the exit, Donghyuck instantly got up to stop you. But it was too late, you were already turning the knob. Crk! Crk! The door wouldn’t budge. Fuck. “Are we…” Donghyuck started. “Fucking locked in.” You finished. Your hand dropped hopelessly from the door knob and back to your side. “So much for a good idea.” You muttered to yourself as you sat back down with your back against the door. Before Hyuck got the chance to say any of his stupid comforting and reassuring words, the TV on the top left corner of the room that you failed to notice lit up; revealing a man with a mask that looked precisely like the one you saw in the previous photograph.

“I see you’ve made it.” A distorted voice sounded.

What the fuck? What in the heavens is going on? “W-Who are you?!” Donghyuck exclaimed, his eyes fluttering unconsciously. “You can call me Billy, Lee Donghyuck.” Billy grinned from ear to ear sinisterly as you were still trying to process what’s going on. “How the fuck…” You heard your best friend mutter under his breath as he pulled your body closer to his. “What do you want from us, Billy?” He braced himself to question the man behind the screen in a stern voice. “Let’s just say… Fuck. Or die.” Billy had a little smirk on his (you assume) plastic face. “Hold on, what?” You managed to let out. “See it this way, I’m offering you a chance to leave this room unharmed and maybe even happier than when you first arrived here for the sole agreement that you have intercourse amongst yourselves.” He repeated. This time more descriptive. “However if you disagree, you might as well starve to death.”

Millions of thoughts were running through your head as you gathered what he’d just said. He had no business in your sex life so why is he forcing you to fuck your own best mate? Let alone watch. Is he that much of a pervert? “Horny fuck.” You spoke quietly under your breath. “I heard that.” With his mask on, you couldn’t see anything but his eyes and the curve of his mouth. But you could very well see that he was glaring at you through the screen and had a scowl in his face. “If you agree, just call for me and I’ll adjust everything according to your liking. For example, if you’re feeling a little naughty,” Suddenly, the lights in the room switched from paper white to devil’s red. “I can change the light to a different colour. You can even ask me to turn on some music, if you’d like.

At the lack of response, Billy cleared his throat and spoke for one last time, “I’ll give you 24 hours to think about it. Meanwhile, you can call it a day on the bed I just brought in for you. Goodnight, lovelies.” before the screen went black. Speechless, you had your eyes wide and were not blinking as you made your way to sit at the edge of the bed, Hyuck joining you not long after. “It sounds like a win-win situation, doesn’t it?” He said awkwardly. “What? You get to fuck me and he gets to watch? You men are sick in the head.” You rolled your eyes. You perhaps were being dramatic but all you wanted right now was to go to bed in the comfort of your own room, in your own house. “No! What I meant was that, we get to leave and he gets what he wants!” He attempted to defend himself.

“You know what, let’s not talk about this tonight. I’m too tired for this shit.” You told him and he was seen nodding before the lights were seen dimming until it was pitch black. Slipping off your shoes, you climbed onto the bed and settled yourself comfortably and waited for Donghyuck to do the same. You were starting to enjoy being here. The temperature was perfect, the air was fresher, and the bed was beginning to feel even more lovable than your own. Once the boy next to you was nicely tucked in, you looked toward one of the blinking red lights at the top four corners of the room before asking,

“A yellow nightlight maybe?”

The next morning, you’d woken up with zero sense of time. There were no windows and the lights were still turned off. For all you know, it could be three in the morning right now. “You’re up.” Billy spoke before he turned the lights back on. Cursing under your breath at the sudden light intrusion, you looked to the side with squinted and furrowed brows just to realise that Donghyuck was still soundly sleeping. As you were admiring his face, there was suddenly a loud siren coming from the speakers in the room (which you had no clue of). Almost immediately, Hyuck jolted awake from his slumber before sitting up straight. “Bloody hell!” He glared at the masked man behind the screen. “Forgive me for the inconvenience. Have the lot of you made your decision?” Billy smiled cheekily. “No? we just woke up!” A gun shot was heard followed by a screech from you and a muted gasp from Donghyuck.

You search for what had been shot and found that the sofa now has a hole on its armrest. “Talk to me like that again and that’s going to be you.” Billy said. You huffed angrily as you felt Hyuck pulling you into a warm embrace. “Don’t let him get under your skin.” He whispered into your ear quietly enough to ensure that Billy couldn’t hear him. Sighing, you gave him your warmest smile before looking back toward the screen. You weren’t given then chance to look for where the gun shot had came from until it was already too late. “We’re gonna do it.” You told Billy. That statement elicited a sound of confusion from Donghyuck and a barely-noticeable look of surprise from the man you were speaking to. “Well, just let me know when you’re ready. Remember, I’m always watching.” And just like that, the screen went black and all you saw was the reflection of the room looking right back at you. “Y/n, we don’t have to do this if you don’t—” You cut him off with a short, “We have to. We have to and you know we do.” You looked away from him and took a deep breath. “If we want to leave early, we should—”

“Tonight.” Donghyuck started. “We’ll do it tonight and we’ll leave the next day, okay?” He raised a hand to caress your shoulder. Biting a small part of your lower lip, you smiled. “Okay.”

A few hours had passed and you’d asked Billy for the time which he simply replied, through the speakers, with, “Half past seven.” You tapped your feet anxiously against the floor as you kept glancing over to Donghyuck who had fallen asleep once again. Your phone batteries had died and both your watches stopped working the second you entered the room. Which also got you thinking, where the hell did the bed come from? The first time you entered this room, no bed was in sight but now, here it is. All fluffy and cold beneath you. You were starting to feel a little hungry because all you have is a bottle of water that is half full that you so thankfully brought along with you.

Listening to your stomach growling, you glanced toward Donghyuck one last time before calling for Billy. “We’re hungry.” You told him blatantly. “And? What do you want me to do about it?” He asked, sarcasm prominent in his voice. “Get us food, perhaps?” You raised a brow. “Starve.” Rolling your eyes, you brought your legs onto the bed and leaned against the headboard with crossed arms. “How do you expect us to fuck if you’re gonna starve us?? That shit needs energy, y’know!” Your voice lowered when you were reminded of the earlier events. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice your little outburst though. “Ugh, fine. What do you want?” He asked annoyedly. “Get me Chinese and a cup of coffee, black. As for him…” You looked at Donghyuck. “Get him chicken pepperoni pizza and fried chicken, with diet coke.” You’ve known Donghyuck since you were in middle school and almost every time you guys went out, he’d order the exact same thing. Pizza, fried chicken, coke.

“Of course, m’lady.” You could almost hear the roll of his eyes in his voice when he spoke, making you smile inside. A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the entrance door before it opened slightly and two plastic bags were placed by the door. Before you were given the chance to pull the door open even more, it shut itself closed loudly, almost hitting your hand with the edge. “Son of a bitch.” You muttered quietly. Grabbing the bags, you placed them on a coffee table opposite the couch and made your way toward Donghyuck to wake him up. “Hyuck,” You shook him softly. “Hyuck, wake up.” You shook him again. Just as you were about to call him a third time, his hand snaked around your waist and pulled you closer to him before making you sit on the bed next to him by his crotch. “Lee Donghyuck…” He whined in protest as he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the yellow light you’d requested an hour earlier. “We got food.” You smiled. “Pizza?” Seeing you nod, he instantly sat up and made a beeline to where the food was placed, leaving you in the bed.

Slowly, you stood up and sat next to him on the sofa as you grabbed your food. You waited a few seconds before asking, “How are you so calm about all of this?” you watched him take a bite of his pizza. “It’s not me that’s calm, it’s you that’s being paranoid, darlin’.” He sipped on his coke. “No but— You’re not even a tiny bit worried?” Your eyebrows connected with each other. “Oh trust me, Y/n, I am.” And with that, you decided to stop with questions and just eat your food calmly.

It’s ten now. You know that much. You also know what’s about to come when you’re sat on the bed opposite Donghyuck, both trying hard not to look at each other. It should come naturally. But the both of you decided that the best idea was to just—

“Let’s just kiss.” You said.

“Yeah, that’s sounds doable.”

Now with your lips on his, you couldn’t help but think of how long you’ve wanted this. How long you’ve been thinking of kissing those soft lips of his. Your hands found their way to his neck as you pulled him closer to you. You probably pulled a little too hard when you’d let your back touch the soft mattress. His hands were placed by your head on either sides as your own started to roam his body. Starting with his shoulders, you massaged them a little bit, moving from side to side which elicited a groan from Donghyuck. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane, Y/n.” He spoke between kisses. “So am I fucking a mad man?” You joked, pulling away slightly and tilted your head to one side as you looked at him in the eye. “Oh I’ll show you a mad man.”

You gasp at the sudden feeling of his mouth aggressively leaving trails of alive along your jawline, the back of your ear, all the way to your barely exposed chest. Licking, kissing, sucking, everything, was done to your skin as you let out soft moans. Pulling back, he took off the shirt you were wearing swiftly before reattaching his lips onto your skin. Donghyuck’s lips went lower and lower until they found themselves biting on your tender breasts, his hands playing their part as they grasped your boobs a little too hard. A yelp was heard from you all whilst he was biting at your skin. You let out disgruntled noises when he suddenly shoved two fingers into your mouth with his free hand.

“D-Donghyuck…” You managed to say, earning a low hum from the said boy. You weren’t able to say anything else when he suddenly bit hard in your right nipple, making way for you to whine loudly. Ignoring you, he licked a line from between your breasts to your belly button, flicking his tongue a little longer on it. But before he got the chance to act out, you quickly pulled him by the hair to meet his eyes, receiving a breathy groan from him. “I wanna suck you off.” You admitted shamelessly. The look you were given was priceless. He looked as surprised as he would be if he saw an elephant singing. “Oh come on, don’t act so surprised now. We were bound to do it anyway.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair with an innocent smile. “I so need to fuck you right now.” He dove in for another kiss but was stopped when you placed a finger to his lips.

“Let. Me. Suck. You. Off.”

You watched the way he bit his lip as his breathing began turning ragged. “You serious?” He asked. It sounded more of a statement rather than question but you answered nonetheless. “As serious as I ever will be.” You softened your gaze and situated your right palm against the waistband of his sweats. “Then fuck.” Right after he said that, he stood off the bed as you let your head hang over it to watch him. In less than ten seconds, his gray sweatpants along with his black boxers were off to the ground, leaving him in only his white hoodie before turning his head away. “Don't look at me like that.” He said through gritted teeth. You tilted your head slightly. “I’m not looking at you, I'm looking at your dick.” Blinking your eyes multiple times, you eyed his cock as it continuously bumps against his stomach, blood rushing to it the same time the red liquid rushes to your head. A strained groan from Donghyuck echoed through the room as he met your eyes once again. “You wanna suck me off so bad? Fucking take all of it.” A foot towards you and the next thing you knew he was stuffed into your mouth, balls meeting your nose.

You almost gagged at the sudden intrusion. Your hands found their place on opposite sides of you, gripping at the sheets beneath you. “Shit—” A strangled groan sounded. Donghyuck rammed himself into the warm of your mouth so harshly you started to feel numb, the back of your throat on fire. Whatever you attempted on telling him only turned slurred, making in hard for him to decipher what message you were trying to send. Despite that, he still couldn’t bring himself to stop. Let alone pull out. “What you tryna say, darlin’? Hm?” He brought his hand to your reddened neck before using a finger to trace the lines of his bulge visible against the supple skin of your neck. Raising your own hand, you tapped it rapidly at his thigh. It’s not like you wanted him stop, trust me, you would give anything to have him filling your mouth like this forever. What you wanted was for him to have the slightest bit of mercy on you, give you some space to breathe, at least. Instead of doing just that, he placed his foot by your head for the sole reason of penetrating your throat deeper.

Bubbles of saliva were drooling down the sides of your face, making it all wet and sticky. Seeing this, your best friend added oil to the fire by smearing the liquid all over your face, from your chin, to your eyes, and all the way over to your forehead before squeezing his balls with the substance as lubricant. Finally, after one last squeeze, his load flowed through you throat, making you instantly choke on his thick cock. His moan was so loud and whiny that you almost forgot the guy who literally almost killed you if he hadn't pulled out a second earlier. Immediately after that, you rotated yourself so your head was resting against the soft pillow as you took quick breaths. “You motherfucker.” You cursed with a glare being thrown his way. Shrugging you off, he climbed onto the bed and pulled your legs apart before settling himself between them. “Would you fancy doggy, the classic missionary, cowgirl, or... spooning?” The question probably wasn't even intended for you because a millisecond after he said that, he had his eyes on one of the cameras.

“What would you like, Billy?”

It was a whole minute before he replied and the silence you were given almost made you think that he wasn't even there. Wasn't watching, wasn't listening. Remember, I'm always watching.

“Threesome.”

His response nearly got you puzzled. Nearly. If it wasn't for the two seconds of eye contact with Donghyuck, the realisation wouldn't have dawned upon you. The fact that he was speaking through the speakers and not through the screen didn't help. You couldn't see his posture, couldn't make out his breathing, couldn't figure if he was being serious or not. You weren’t given the time to process what he’d just said before one of the graffiti-covered walls parted open, revealing a man in a suit making his way toward you. You glanced at his face just to notice that he had a mask on. Billy. There was probably something about the way the both of you looked at him that made him say: “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” He angled his head in your direction and eyed your figure up and down before saying again, “Or maybe I do.” in a hushed voice. “Take it off.” Donghyuck told Billy. “What? My clothes? Gladly.” His hands found their way to loosen his tie before Hyuck grimaced.

“No. Your mask.” There was a knowing look in your best friend’s eyes. Almost as if he knew something. He’d covered his lower half right before Billy made an appearance. Billy smiled viciously. “Are you that eager to know?” He tucked his hands in his pockets and brought up his chin slowly before raising a theoretically invisible eyebrow at the both of you. “Take it off.” The boy opposite you repeated, his tone more demanding this time. “You asked for it.” Was the last thing he said before looking to the ground and slowly removed his mask. You couldn't see his face. Not quite yet. But Hyuck seemed to recognise him just by the sight of his eyebrows. “Mark?” your eyes drfited to Donghyuck and watched as his face twisted into different variations of emotions with his eyebrows twitching. Shock, anger, betrayal, rage, disappointment, all of the negatives. This so-called ‘Mark’ looked up and met his gaze. “Long time no see, Haechan.” He smiled knowingly. “Don’t call me that.” His lips twitched this time.

“Why not? Does it hurt, Haechan? Did you hurt?” Mark looked like he was on the verge of bursting into a fit of laughter, just to rub it in Hyuck’s face. Looking in front of you, you saw the way Donghyuck had his lips tucked between his teeth with both his hands curled into fists. You wanted to ask what happened, wanted to know how they knew each other but the tension in the room was so heavy, you couldn't even bring yourself to clear your throat. Which has been itching for a clearing for a hot minute now. “Don’t talk as if you know the truth.” Donghyuck’s eyes softened at the last bit. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him, but you couldn’t. Not right now. “Oh, believe me, I know. I had eyes everywhere. Still do.” Mark was no longer smiling now. Having had enough, Hyuck stood up, let his no-longer-hard cock hang and made his was toward Mark. Not caring for the humiliation.

“You weren’t there when it happened. You weren’t there when I needed you. You weren’t there when I looked for you, you were never there!" Hyuck babbled, catching his breath afterwards. “If only you knew how hard I tried not to be there. You were everywhere. You were everywhere and it disgusted me.” Mark bent down and picked up Donghyuck's clothes from the floor. “Put some clothes on.” He told him before tossing him the garments and continuing. “You took everything from me, my family, my friends, Chae. You were probably too in and over your head to realise that, weren’t you? All giddy and cheerful without a care for the world, huh? For the people around you? For their feelings? I hope you hurt. I hope you still are,” Mark stole a quiet glance at you. “hurting.” His voice when he spoke was calm, stable, soothing even. A contrast to his words and you found yourself melting into it.

Guilt flashed across Hyuck’s face as he tensed his figure. “You could’ve told me.” Shaking his head slightly, Mark sighed and looked away. “Leave. I’m done. It’s done.” What’s done? The thought flashed through your mind as you watched intently at the scene playing out in front of you. “What was the point of this? Of all of this,” Your best friend gestured to his surroundings. “You knew we were coming, so why?” Hyuck demanded. “The point,” Mark emphasised with a raised voice before slowing it back down. “Haechan, was to confront you. To relieve the weight of this confession from my chest. You served your purpose, so leave. The both of you.” This time, Donghyuck was the one shaking his head. Pulling you out of the bed, he dragged you to the exit before turning the knob and pushing you out the door with him. “What happened?” You asked, the second you stepped foot outside. The familiarity of it all taking a hold on you. “This story involves star-crossed lovers, betrayal, and suicide.” He muttered the last bit silently. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not but he didn’t let you dwell on that thought for too long when he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you out of that place.

Once the two of you got into his car (which was surprisingly still intact), Donghyuck let his forehead fall to the steering wheel. Sighing loudly as he did so. Not knowing what to do, you raised a hand and rubbed his back gently. “Thanks, Y/n.” He said without an ounce of expression visible in his face, or at least, the side. “Want me to drive?” You offered, seeing as he wasn’t in such a good shape. “No, it’s okay,” He straightened his back as you pulled your hand away. “My place?” He looked at you, you smiled. “Your place.”

Donghyuck’s hands found their place at the dips of your waist as he pushed you against the wall of his entryway roughly. “Fuck.” You heard him curse softly under his breath as you wrapped your arms around his neck, unconsciously bringing him closer to you. “I need this,” He kissed you once. “I need you.” He kissed you for a second time. Looking into his deep brown orbs, the both of you shared intimate heavy breaths as he laid his forehead against yours. “I know. I know, Hyuck. I know.” You tugged softly at his brown locks, which made him shut his eyes and moan softly. “Please…” His voice broke as he tightened his grip on your waist. “Please,” He begged. “Let me… Please,” Hyuck opened his eyes and looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Instead of responding to him, you bit your lower lip and dove in for a kiss once again. Almost as if reflex took a hold of him, he brought your lower halves impossibly closer before picking you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist.

He led you to his bedroom with your lips still locked and threw you onto the bed with him. You sighed softly when you felt his hand coming under your shorts, playing with your clit over your panties. “Hyuck…” You said against his lips as you began to subconsciously grind against his palm, soaking the flimsy material. When he started to tug at the waistband of your underwear, your eyelids flew open before you released the kiss and stopped his movements altogether by holding onto his wrist. “No,” You said. “I’m doing you tonight, aren’t I?” Tilting your head, you watched as he licked his swollen lips. “But—” Shaking your head, you asked for him to flip the both of you over and that’s how you got into this position. With your legs on either sides of him and your fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie. Pulling the left and then pulling the right.

You were teasing him. You were teasing him and he knew that. He also knew that you were doing this for his sake. Because when he’s stressed, all he needs is a little tease from his favourite friend. Smiling sweetly at him, you leaned your head down so it was laying against his chest before carefully darting out your tongue just enough to have it graze over his clothed nipple. A soft curse was heard from the man underneath you as you started to give small licks to it. Taking your time, you finally decided to suck on his right bud as your free hand began on his left. Twisting your fingers against it, you used your teeth to grind it against his nipple gently, just to get him on edge. The thick material of his hoodie caused you to produce more saliva in order to have it soak his clothing.

This went on for about three minutes when Donghyuck suddenly pushed your head away, causing you to look up at him curiously. “That’s enough. Yeah? I need to fuck you right now. You know I do.” He breathed. Saying nothing, you put your hair behind your neck and crawled lower onto him, settling on the tent prominent against his pants. Wasting no time, you pulled the garment off him in an instant to which you were met with a thick, veiny, about-seventeen-centimetres-long cock hitting your nose slightly. Looking up at him, you questioned, “Where’d it go?” you were referring to his black boxers that you recall seeing earlier. “Left that jerk a little something.” He smiled lazily. Nodding your head amusedly, you slowly traced your fingers over the veins on his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. Before he got to complain, you gripped his length with all your might and began pumping him at a rapid pace.

With his eyes shut, he unconsciously fucked himself in your tight palm, his hands gripping your shoulders hard. Satisfied, you released your hand abruptly before taking all your clothes off, down to the panties. At the sudden halt, Hyuck’s eyelids flew open just to catch sight of your naked body staring right back at him. His eyes were wide, like he’d never seen anything better. “Can I…” You weren’t sure what he was referring to but that thought was cut short when he immediately pulled you toward him into a wet kiss, tongue all over. His right hand went over to your breasts, grasping it so hard it hurt. “Hyuck…” You called for him as you pulled away from the kiss and threw back your neck. Taking this advantage, he instantly attached his lips to the skin between your collarbones before trailing it slowly to the valley of your breasts with his tongue.

No matter how hard you wanted to stop him, your body seemed to have a mind of its own when your left hand placed itself behind his head, pulling him closer to your body. A strained whine was given to him when he wagged his tongue over your hardened nipple, bringing you back to your senses. Pulling at his hair roughly, his head was detached from you with a groan as you met his eyes. “What did I say?” Your tone was almost degrading, but you didn’t let that get to him. “Sorry…” He shut his eyes. You could feel his cock between your ass as he rubbed it desperately against you. Scoffing, you reached a hand to your back and angled it away from you, an annoyed whine was given to you in response. Pumping it in your palm a few last times, you raised his hips before sliding his dick into you carefully.

The both of you moaned in relief at the same time. Watching his face with every ounce of focus you have inside you, you slowly started to bounce on him. Raising and dropping your hips as his face went from relaxed to mouth-wide, eyebrows-furrowed, eyes-still-shut. “Feel good?” You asked him quietly to which he nodded rapidly. You smirked. “Yeah? I bet it does.” You fucked yourself on him harder, faster, rougher. Your own head being thrown back with your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. “Fuck, Hyuck,” Your hands found place at his shoulders, gripping them tightly. “Y/n— Please—” He strained. You rolled your hips against him harder. “Already? We just started.” You cooed as you looked down to his face. He wouldn’t look at you though. “You think you deserve to cum? Hm?” You tilted your head, you were struggling to keep your sounds to yourself just as much as he was.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please, darling…” That nickname. When used it situations like this, you could feel yourself convulsing around his cock, another loud moan from him. “Cum. Cum inside me please,” Your voice broke at the end but that was the least of your worries. The only thought running through your mind right now was the way his hot liquid filled your body, coating your insides white. The both of you moaned heavily, taking your time to gather yourself before slumping against his chest and shutting your eyes. “We should go see him.” You suggested, heavy breaths falling from your lips. Confused at the sudden change of topic, Donghyuck played with the strands of your hair before asking, “Who?”. You took your time answering, you chest rising and falling against his own as you did so.

“Mark.”

not my best work but at least it’s here! also the ending was kinda rushed so pls get me

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct imagines #nct dream #haechan hard hours #nct 127 #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #donghyuck smut

2K notes · View notes

nanamimizz-archived · 5 months ago

Text

𝚩𝐔𝐓𝐂𝐇𝚬𝐑𝚬𝐃 𝐓𝚶𝐍𝐆𝐔𝚬. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝚶𝐍𝚬

“𝐨𝐡, 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞-𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬.”

You cannot lie in the presence of The Harmony, the great choir compels you to speak only truth. It does not help that Sunday can break your barbed tongue and leave your pride in pieces.

tags: 3.2k wc // inappropriate work relationships // abuse of power // sacrilegious themes // established dynamics // nsfw // petplay dynamics // bisexual reader// mention of incest// afab reader// // coercion // fingering // mentions of penetration // dacryphilia // mindfuckery // sunday is a FREAK //dead dove do not eat // this is kinda fucked up fr…..damn….

author’s note: happy birthday to my bestest friend 🫶🏼 @prettyboykatsukii - this is late as hell im so sorry pookie. sunday lowkey thinks he jigsaw who's gonna tell him.

When you first come to the Penachony, weathered and panicked the head of the Oak Family - Mr. Sunday was as much of angel as his visage. The halo upon his white hair was like a king's crown to you, it shined in your eyes like scraps of food do for a stray dog.

It's what you were, when you had first met Sunday and he would never consider himself a charitable man before looking into your wet, tearful eyes. You were accepted with much more ease than you thought - given an amicable smile and chilling sound of your name on Sunday's lips as he bade you a farewell. It was clear from that first interaction that your stay was not freely given.

You were put to work, swiftly and decisively as your tasks always where in line with your specialty of technology and hacking . The sword of which you wielded for the IPC, in where you served the Stonehearts to generate more wealth than you ever saw. It's the very sword you used to stab your employer in the back, and the blade that you fell on.

Now you wonder what is colder, the gold of his gaze or the steel of your sword as it pierces your spine?

The present is uncaring in your questions, letting them turn to ash on your tongue as you are brought back to the inescapable problem you are placed before. It's been only a month since you arrival to Penachony, a month where after years of being on the run you have built some semblance of a normal life.

Seeing Mr. Sunday was supposed to be a once in a life time chance, never to be repeated again but here you are. Like a mouse trapped in between the paws of indomitable lion who's skin is stronger than steel. You grip the arms of the chair with enough strength the veins in your hands show through the skin.

"Are you nervous?"

You don't say anything, keeping your gaze on the clean white tile beneath.

"You shouldn't be. You've been a loyal member of The Family," something sharp phases through the gold of his eyes, "like a stray dog that knows how well they have it now. Gratefulness isn't a quality most have these days. Wouldn't you agree?"

The question is heavy and hot with accusation like hot iron. For only a second does your gaze dare to meet his, and once you do it's like you are a deer enraptured by the dazzling lights.

"Yes, Mr.Sunday...I would say so."

Sunday smiles as golden as the sun.

"This most agreeable perspective of yours is why we have become fast friends, no?"

You don’t have many friends - not even during your time at the IPC, but there’s a chill down your spine that makes you agree. Your eyes are downcast and you do not dare to raise them. It's hard not however, no matter how much dread Mr. Sunday inspires in you he attracts your gaze like honey to vermin. Never once could you ignore the luster of beautiful things, divine things - it's the weakness Diamond exploited and you think yourself smarter than to fall for it one more time.

How wrong you are, how utterly foolish.

You feel like you have cotton mouth so you dare not speak, only nodding your head.

"And, it is because of our fast friendship I trust you will most amendable with answering a few of my questions - correct?" He asks you, a certain measure of assurances in his tone that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. You fight to find your voice and succeed, if only just.

"What type of questions-"

"Whichever I deem fit - that seems the most fair, wouldn't you agree? I am the one who allowed you in." Sunday speaks, picking at a nonexistent lint on his perfectly creased pants. It's difficult to come up with what to say in retaliate to that, so you say nothing and bow your head.

"Now, let us begin."

There was a change in the air, you feel like in the way the air brushes against your neck and the ache you feel in your robotic arm. The cold that nips at your nerves and the electricity that zaps at the humidity of your eyes. You have felt this once, just the once. When you had stayed, bearing witness to the Stonehearts delegation on the matter of adding another stone to their priceless collection. You recall Diamond and their brilliance and find that Sunday overshadows the former completely like the moon blocking sun.

"Oh Triple Faced Soul, please sear her tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that she will not be able to fabricate lies and false vows."

Once the words have let his full lips, you wince at the overstimulating pain your eyes are victim too as a rainbow like tinge takes over your vision. There is a heat to your hands and tongue, a ringing in your ears that almost drives you mad.

"I see you still have a glaring incompatibility with the memoria," He frowns as if this is something so greatly inconveniences him and not you, "No matter, that can be remedied in time. It is rather fortunate that I am as patient as I am."

"What did you do to me?" Your voice is thin and face twisted in agony - it's a shame you miss at the cool smile on Sunday's face as he watches how you fail at trying to withstand the beginnings of the trial he aims to put you in through.

"As head of the Oak Family I have been blessed with unique abilities by our aeon. That's not so hard to comprehend is it? After all you've been in the presence of a aeon's power before." He explains calmly, hands folded neatly in his lap as he watches you from his seat at the desk in his room. You blink away involuntary tears and hiss out.

"How did you know about that?"

"About your past? Do you think the Family so welcoming to the point of complacency? I would never turn a blind eye to the details of all those that want to join - lest villains make use of this weakness and rot the wood from within." There's a steeliness to his words that makes you wince like a struck dog and you bow your head even bringing your chin to your chest to acquiesce to his words.

"What are you going to do to me? Going to try to trade me off to the IPC?" You hiss, tasting the salt of your own tears - when did you start to cry? As the ringing is only intensified.

"Maybe, if you fail my test." Came the measured response to your accusation. Through the teary film over your gaze you miss out on the way Sunday's hands tighten on the arms of his chair and the heated glint in his golden eyes. You glaring at him, eyes tinged a violet read with am attempted frown that ends up looking like more of a pout. You are a sight for sore eyes - and Sunday thinks of all the ways he can keep your misty gaze on only him.

"Fine," you say sharply as you hear the ringing turn into the edges of a harmonious choir in your ears. "Begin your fucking trial - ah!"

Strange and ravenous heat sears your tongue, like if you drank coffee straight from the boiling pot than letting it cool in your mug. Sunday as risen from his seat and stands in front of you now. Tall and looming with a displeased look on his face and the feathers by his head ruffled.

"Language." You whimper out an apology, sniffling away the tears that want to fall from the scorching of your tongue. He crosses his arms behind his back and you don't see how tightly his fist in clenched, impeccable white gloves wrinkling.

"The trial is simple. I will ask you questions and you will answer honestly."

You narrow your gaze at him, almost petulantly.

"And if I don't?"

A cool smile graces his handsome face, earrings clinking with the tilting of his head as he looks at you with the visage of utter benevolence, hiding the wickedness beneath the veil - "Then I will punish you for the crime of deceiving The Family."

The truth burns down your throat bitterly as you swallow the threat. The second shoe has dropped, and what a fool you were to think that your labor would be enough to pay off the debt for you have accumulated. Through out all your life you have learned so many lessons and bore the weight of so many lashings - each craved a fact of life into the marrow of your being that you never thought you would forget. That there is no true kindness in this universe, no mattered how glided the lips that utter the promise of salvation - you will never have it without paying with something of your own.

"So what? Do you want me to spill my guts out to you now?" Sunday answers your question with a elegant quirk of his lips before his eyes turn focused and narrowed.

"In a sense," He turns to look at the table where strewed across the appropriate oak wood where files - somewhere on them you know your name is on there, written in more blood than ink. “We both know that the IPC circles Penachony like a predator does it’s prey. I merely wish to be insured of your loyalty to The Family and know what is you want from this place.”

(The dove turns, beak and talons sharpening into that of a raptor before you and the choir sings louder in your skull.)

“Now….WHAT DID YOU COME TO SEEK IN PENACHONY?”

The ringing makes your skull shake in your skin and your teeth grind against each other so hard you can hear one tooth crack. The rainbow tinge to your vision swirls and you feel it, the overpowering presence of a aeon - Xipe, The Harmony is here. Here in this room, where you are pinned beneath their lidded gaze you cannot stop the words that spill from your lips as more salty tears and snot run down your face.

“I…wanted…to escape -“ You gasp out, each word like acidic bile on your lips as you gasp. The choir only grows, louder and louder and you wonder if you are going to bleed from your ears at this rate.

“ESCAPE FROM WHAT?” You hear his voice, sterner than it was before - no longer doused in pleasantries and platitudes. Your head aches and throbs, and you feel like you are going to vomit as you stutter out your honest answer.

“From the IPC -“you stop to sob and your vision fizzes like film being burnt, “Didn’t want to belong to them anymore.” The memoria in the air, in the room you are in swirls in your head and you see them - the visions of your childhood, of when you were poor but free and not chained to the desk where you slaved away for hours and days and months and years. The visage makes you ache, and you know you are crying in the terrible ugly way that makes you feel too vulnerable.

The swirling rainbow in your eyes comes to a halt, the choir softens it’s singing and the pain in your head eases. It’s a hum now and the Xipe’s eyes which were barely open, close shut as before. THEIR presence is gone, no longer in the room.

All that is left is you and Sunday.

You feel something touch your face, blearily eyes blink to focus and you don’t realize it but it is Sunday - staining his gloves with the salt of your tears as he gazes upon your ruined face.

“You want to be loved. That is why you left isn’t it?” He asks and your lip trembles when the realization hits you. He knows - he saw the same swirling visions of a life you lost, one where you had a family and a name and a home. He saw that you lost it and in the labyrinth of grief you fell prey to the lies of the deceiver like so many do. You wonder if Sunday pities you, Sunday wonders if you can tell how much he covets you now - more than ever.

His thumb rubs away a tear streak and his eyes - golden like the moon on your home planet glow hot.

“You have passed my trial, and for that you have earned a reward for your endurance. Would you like that?” Sunday asks and you nod limply. You would take anything after that, anything would be better than being a tortured by an aeon. There is a gentleness in how he is handling you now, even going as far as to cup you chin in his palm like you are worth the delicate care. Like you are something to treasure. It feels nice, you lean into his touch blissfully.

“Words. I need words.” Sunday does not falter, even as his heart tightness as the sight of your obedience leaves him wanting.

“Yes. Yes please - anything after that.” The words are stumbling out your mouth and there is a haze in your eyes that makes something in him stir at your desperation. He pulls his hand away and you whine like a dog not yet done being caressed. You are silenced by the words he commands of you.

“Remove your pants.” Your hands are shaky but you obey, like a mutt being taught a new trick. You only manage to undo them, and bringing them down to a little past your knees before Sunday touches you. He still as the gloves on - now wrinkled and stain with your tears from where he had cradled your face with the tenderness of a lover. The gentle caress had been enough to excite you, it’s been years since you have been touched to softly, so gently - you had forgotten what it felt like. His hand goes to your thigh and squeezes the flesh with his thumb rubbing at it softly when he feels you tense beneath him.

“Be at ease,” his voice is melodious next to your ear as he brings his lips to your cheek. “Take your reward with grace, and keep behaving - you might find a beautiful song in your future. I know well how much you enjoy music.” Beautiful white hair and emerald eyes appear in your mind and you don't miss out on his amused huff at the flush on your face at the thought.

Whatever you were about to say dies on your lips as you moan lowly at the feeling of his fingers pressing against your clothed cunt. Just the feeling of them is enough to make you fidget - body still on overdrive from before and in return you are earned a hand grasping your thigh and pinning you in place beneath him.

“Take your reward. I am not fond of repeating myself.” He orders you, tone sterner than before and you hear him make the clicking sound of pity as he takes in how a merely caress is enough to make you tremble. He keeps petting you, with gentle and even strokes as you moan his name softly - until you feel how your cunt soaks through your underwear enough that Sunday can see the shape of your clit. You whine when you feel his thumb press against it and spread your legs for him without being told to when you feel the circles he rubs into it.

“Well done, good pet. I much prefer you like this.” He utters, transfixed and focus on the wet look of pleasure on your messy face. Your mouth drops open and any hint of that harden criminal that you are falls apart exposing yourself to how desperate you are. Sunday can see the way you shudder at his praise than his touches and he rewards you by pulling your underwear to the side and exposing your center to the cold air of his office. You whine but he hushes you, and slides his fingers down the mound of tacky curls at your pubic bone and slips a still gloved finger inside of you.

You keen and it reverbs in his office like an opera house.

“Noisy thing you are - you’ll ruin my gloves.” Sunday speaks but you are not listening, eyes cast down to where his finger disappears inside of you and staining the white satin blend of his gloves a dark gray with your slick. Your hands grip at the arms of the chair, your metal hand making the wood creak and dent as he slips in another finger inside, going in deep to press against the bundle of nerves at your upper wall. You mewl his name, the polite honorific of mister in front of it like always makes the tent in his pants more obvious to you as you keep your gaze on his bulge. You flutter around his fingers the longer you stare it and your mind wanders with all sorts of dazed and lustful thoughts.

Would his cock be as beautiful as the rest of him? Would flush the same way his ears are right now? How would it feel inside of you - oh, you want it inside you so badly. Even more so you want to watch it bob against his stomach with you inside of him, flushed and leaking against his stomach as you service Mr. Sunday for letting you stay, for being so kind to you -

You cum at that final thought, gasping his name and letting your fist hit the side of the chair weakly as your body coils around the pleasure flowing between your thighs and down onto your seat. Your body feels lax and weightless as you slump into the chair, looking at him with a hazy look on your face. Sunday looks at you with what is your approximation of tenderness and vicious satisfaction. He pulls his fingers out, removes his glove and pockets the stained fabric into his coat. His bare hand brushes some hair away from your neck, thumb on your pulse as he nudges his head to a door in the corner of the room.

“You have given me what I wanted and in return I will give you what you want - a place to belong to, one carved solely for you at my side. You are mine now, do you understand?”

The “yes” you say tumbles past your lips before you can think it. You crave it now you think, more than ever. More than you have ever wanted before you. You are riding a high you think, as you pull up your pants and walk past Sunday to go into the door he pointed you out to you.

You don’t think you ever want to sober up, your hand grips the doorknob and you look back at him over your shoulder - eyes still glassy post orgasm and a hungering in your stomach for more of his touch and his command. The door opens and you swallow around your thoughts. The night continues with more pleasure, more touching and Sunday is going to spoil you rotten you think as you lay his stained bed sheets shuddering from the shocks of pleasure in your heightened system.

‘Yes’, you think as you feel something go around your neck and feel the cool press of a tag against your clavicle. ‘This is what you came to Penachony for.’

#lamb.writes #sunday x reader #sunday smut #hsr x reader #hsr smut #im so tired goodnight

192 notes · View notes

hatsukeii · 9 months ago

Text

jigsaw falling into place / tsukishima kei x reader

genre(s) - frenemies to lovers if you look at it one way, and soulmates/twin flames if you look at it another, which means it's fully up to whatever you want pookies, also they are both ex dancers which is a fun little thing i had an idea for but i can't tell if it's an au, angst???

warning(s) - injury??? ankles?? yeah, injury and ankles, mentions of blood, iirc there are very slight references of reader being female but it's probably just one or two mentions at most, not a warning but it'll be more fun if you recognise the music references in this, they’re almost exclusively from radiohead because jigsaw falling into place!!!

wc: 7.0k~ (give or take)

tldr; breathe in, and surrender, let the jigsaw fall into place.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

The first time you meet, the two of you are fourteen at De La Soul dance studio. For what reason Tsukishima has ended up in regular hip-hop rehearsals, he has never disclosed to anyone. Perhaps he was coerced into it, or maybe he had time to kill. He sticks out like a sore thumb from his first day onwards, tall and lanky, topped with a glaringly blonde mess of hair, and a pair of clunky, taped up glasses. He always sits at the mirror, his back never further than an inch away from it, wired earphones dangling from his ears down to his pockets. Of all the dancers at the studio, he is the least dancer-like. His gigantic limbs render him nothing short of stiff, and never once has he taken those earphones off during practice. Yet his feet are always quicker to adapt than his arms, and his arms are long enough to lift everybody on the team. One of those days, you sneak a look at his phone while he naps in front of the mirror, a bottle of water hanging from his loosened fingers as his feet tap rhythmically.

“Radiohead?”

His head rises groggily from his arms as he yanks his earphones off. He takes a swig from his bottle, clearing his throat from his rudely interrupted nap

“You like them too?”

“I’ve heard some.”

“Cool.”

He plugs the earphones in again as his head threatens to lower into his arms for a second nap, and you settle yourself comfortably next to him. Your original plan was to ask him for a spot, but this will suffice for now. Two tired bodies sprawled out against the cold ground, backs pressed up against the mirror. He turns to look at you, you extend a fist to him.

“Y/n.”

“Kei. Tsukishima Kei.”

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

Bloody fingers, stained finger tape. The webs of his hands are torn, the ball won’t stop for him. He stands small as a giant amongst a court of Gods. Breathe in, breathe out. Let the blood dry as it trickles down to lace his knuckles. It’s not over yet, far from it.

His hands bleed as the water runs a murky shade of brown beneath his hands. He unravels the soggy, blood-stained tape from his fingers, and flings them into the bin, clicking his tongue when it sticks to the inside of the garbage bag.

“Get it together, Kei. What the fuck are you doing?”

His reflection does not speak back to him. All it does is stare blankly, stupid thing. He rips his glasses off, pinching his eyes with his dripping hands. Let the water in, let it wash him over. It stings in streaks of red, settles over his irises in a blurry film. The blood has dried around his cuts, clotting around skin and flesh. He cups running water in his wounded palms, and throws his face in. He stays there, unmoving as he stares at his palms. He sees you in the crowd, clear as day in his closed eyes. He sees you watching as Ukai pulls him out of the game, he sees you as he walks off the court, and into the bathrooms. He holds his breath, letting out little bubbles until his lungs become nothing but shriveled pink discs beneath his ribs, before whipping his head out, filling his lungs with oxygen again.

He wraps fresh tape around his fingers, tightening them until his fingers are stiff, and puts his glasses back on. It is far from over.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

“You don’t look like you like Radiohead.”

You kick the back of Tsukishima’s knees, and they buckle slightly beneath his stiff torso.

“Shut up and learn this first.”

Three weeks since joining the studio, and those are the next words he says to you. The other dancers have migrated out of the room, taking the twenty-minute break they were promised an hour ago. You push his torso in, and tiptoe to adjust his arms. Much better.

“Look in the mirror, and remember how this looks. Then do it again, and again, every time.”

You flick the music on, letting it rumble through the dance room. This is the fifth time you have run this sequence with him, yet he just doesn’t seem to understand. He is almost there, and you will not give up on him. As the beats resonate through your skull, and the melody pulls at your ligaments and muscles, you watch Tsukishima through the mirror. He is only mimicking your movements. He is almost there, but it is not right yet.

“You’re off, go again.”

The music rewinds. He hops in place, awaiting for the cue to begin. Shuffle, step, kick ball change. Arms around, and in, fold, up.

“It’s not right, go again.”

Shuffle, step, kick ball change. Arms around, and in, fold, up-

“Stop it. This isn’t how you dance, Tsukishima.”

He throws his arms down in surrender, crouching down as his knees tremble beneath him. The oxygen in the room is thick, but scarce. Only traces manage to slither their way into his lungs as he breathes in, breathes out. He has done everything right, hit every move, every beat, every lyric. What could be wrong? What could possibly be out of order?

“Stop rushing the moves, and just let yourself go. You need to let it fall into place.”

“Like a jigsaw?”

You grin at his earphone, dangling haphazardly from his right ear. Of course, he loves Radiohead.

“Yeah, like a jigsaw.”

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

It has been ten minutes. Four rounds have passed without his presence. You watch Hinata desperately sprint across the court, dashing across lines of green, white, and red. Daichi has screamed until his throat is hoarse, and wheezes are beginning to form in the back of everyone’s throats. Kageyama’s fingers are beginning to get lousy, his fingertips are flexing more than they should as he sets the ball too far, too short, too high, too low.

They need a wall. Karasuno is a kingdom without a fourth wall, and the volleyball is knocking the other ones down with every spike. Eyes are darting across the court. Feet are squeaking beneath the polished ground. The claps of skin on leather ring prominent with each receive, each hit, each block.

Tsukishima’s shadow emerges from the edge of the court’s entryway, and Ukai calls a timeout.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

His eyes flutter open from beneath his arms. His earphones have fallen off. Is break still going? A pair of feet stomp and squeak beneath the ground, yet no others follow along. He looks up. It is a lonely performance.

“You need to let it fall into place.”

Arms collapse around your torso, locking and releasing as they travel along your body from your hips, to your chest, to the air. Your arms are vines crawling up a wall, leaping across the border between greying streets and falling into the sanctuary of your garden. The shuffling of your feet guide the vines, the crevices of a brick wall paving the path for them to snake up the wall in a map of green.

It is unlike anything Tsukishima has seen, or done before.

Every move falls into place.

You turn, and he rests his head beneath his arms again. He understands now that he is not done yet. He is not even close to being there. His earphones lie pathetically on the ground beside him. Out of place. He shoves them back into his ears, letting the music wash through his head. He etches your every move into his mind, so that maybe one day, his arms may move like vines on a wall too, draping into bushes like roses in a garden.

Falling into place like a jigsaw.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

The fresh tape has begun to rip again, but he must stay. The tape can’t help Tsukishima now, only his eyes can. Target their morale. Build frustration. When the frustration spills over, Shiratorizawa’s walls will falter. The redhead blocker across the net has a manic look in his eyes as the ball approaches him. Creepy. Kageyama freezes in place, as though mesmerised by the toss. Get it together, and move.

The ball is out of place, the angles are off. It’s a lagged attack, and anyone with half a brain should know. The redhead jumps, and Tsukishima follows suit. Just a bit more, get the hands over the net. Reinforce the barrier, keep it rigid. He cannot, and will not, let the wall collapse again.

The crowd behind you roars in chants and cheers as the ball is deflected, shooting into Shiratorizawa’s court as their own attack turns its back on them. The redhead clicks his tongue, sneering at Tsukishima, who approaches the net, hands shoved into his pockets. You vaguely make out Tsukishima’s remark, which sends the redhead into a tantrum.

“Hi, I’m the normal guy. Good to meet you."

He is getting cocky again, like he was before, like he always has been.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

Four months in, and the team has moved from basics, to breakdancing. Tsukishima operates gracefully now, hands falling into place as pillars for his body while his legs swing in tandem with every switch of his hands.

But he’s been rubbing his elbows for the past minute, and you aren’t sure if this is a good idea anymore.

As his hands settle around your waist, his wrists swell in shades of red and pink, burdened with the role of being residential breakdancer. He has been rubbing his elbows for the past two minutes. You really aren’t sure if this is a good idea anymore.

“Tsukki, are you sure you can-”

“How many times have I told you already? It’s nothing, I got this.”

He adjusts his wristbands, massages his wrists one last time. He has done this countless of times before, so why are you nagging at him now? He’s perfected the shape of his hands, the way they rest under your arms, and on your waist. He’s done this more times than most dancers in this team have spoken to you. It’s just a lift.

“Three, two, one-”

The weight of your back crumbles beneath his fingers. The dull throb in his wrists extends with a pop, piercing through muscle as it blitzes its way down in pulses from his wrists, to his forearms, to his elbow.

“Fuck!”

Your body falls with a thud from approximately eight feet above ground, the side of your ankle making first impact with the floor. It does not make way for you, and your foot twists with a shuddering crack. The rest of your body follows suit, knees slamming into wood veneer as your head whips forward into the ground.

The rest of the team huddles around you, and you almost manage to muster up enough strength to beg them to leave. The oxygen in the room is running out, instead replaced by a thick fog. It rots in your lungs, poisoning your arteries as it makes its way through your bloodstream. Murmurs and shrieks are choked out from the horrified crowd, some frantically scrambling for their phones.

“...fuck.”

Tsukishima stares in horror, staggering backwards towards the mirror. It was just a lift. A lift he had done hundreds of times before. It was one lift out of hundreds, the only one out of place. His earphones dangle from his pocket, but he does not plug them in.

He reaches for his bag, and he runs. He runs until he reaches home. He doesn’t go inside, he doesn’t enter the gate, he doesn’t plug his earphones in. He stares at his hands, and his wrists don’t hurt anymore, while the stinging in his elbows is reduced to a dull soreness.

It was just one lift. One lift out of the hundreds he has done before.

He cradles his face in his hands, squeezes his eyes shut, and holds his breath until the air in his lungs goes purple.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

“Touched it!”

Shiratorizawa are tiring out. He can hear it in their huffs of discontent, the curses beneath their breaths at every block, their cries at every missed save. The redhead sneers at Tsukishima with every jump he makes, and each dirty look fuels him with buzzes of adrenaline. Push them a little more. Shiratorizawa’s fortress will crumble, and Karasuno will rise from the rubble.

“I hit it!”

Keep going, do not stop. Pick up the pieces of Shiratorizawa’s wall, and reinforce Karasuno’s defence with them. Deflect their attacks, use their own power against them. Watch the ball, wait for angles to align, and strike. They will falter soon, he can see it in their panicked eyes, feel it in their impatient strategies.

“Touch!”

His calls echo through the court. Your eyes dart between the ball, Tsukishima’s hands, Shiratorizawa, Tsukishima’s hands, then the ball, an unending series of attacks and counterattacks. Your breath hitches with every jump he makes. He moves powerfully, his timing precise on every block. His eyes are attentive, nimble fingers swipe left and right automatically at Shiratorizawa’s feints and tricks. You can almost hear the gears overclocking in his head, stopwatches ticking and springing him off his feet as they ring.

It is unlike anything you have seen before.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

“Another jigsaw puzzle for me?”

Tsukishima hovers over your bed, a jigsaw set in hand. Your cast pokes out from beneath the blankets, glaringly obvious. Third degree ankle injury, complete tear of the ligament on impact, is what the podiatrist said.

“Just the sixth one this month, you’ve got another month to go in that cast. It’s a thousand pieces this time.”

His weight sinks the mattress beneath you, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him unbox the jigsaw set. Across your bed, two other assembled puzzles sit atop your dresser, jigsaw albums framed in glass panels. The loose pieces tumble to the ground, and Tsukishima peels the blanket off you, sitting next to the pile of jigsaw pieces on the floor. Lifting your foot up, and off the bed, you settle on the ground across him, the pile sitting between the two of your legs.

“Corners first?”

“Yeah, corners first.”

The pieces fall into place quickly. One tends to become acquainted with the rough edges of jigsaw pieces in times of boredom, especially when their friend brings a new set to their house every week or so. The colour scheme keeps you guessing. What album is it this time? The Bends? Room On Fire? The two of you assemble away quietly, carefully lifting portions of the puzzle into the glass frame.

“Kei.”

He lifts his head from his work, the centre of the puzzle laid delicately over his palms.

“You know, they told me I probably can’t dance like that again.”

He freezes, the puzzle falling from his hands and shattering on the frame. He sees the vines, but they wither, retreating back into the concrete streets, limping into the road where cars will drive over them without a care. They will never return to the garden again, replaced with thorns on a bush instead.

He cannot fix this. No amount of forcing the oxygen out of his lungs after every lonely dance practice, or buying puzzles of different albums, or sitting on your bedroom floor for hours every week, building puzzles by your side silently, or reimagining how he should’ve refused to do the lift, how his hand should have cradled your body the same way he had done it hundreds of times before, will ever fix this.

“And you’re just…okay with that?”

You smile melancholically, tilting your cast-adorned ankle. Picking up the pieces of the centre, you reassemble them quietly, head bowed as your lips quiver and your eyes droop. Tsukishima watches in horror, his hand reaching behind him for his bag.

“Do I have a choice?”

You place the final piece in place. In Rainbows, classic.

You look up, and he is not there.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

Kageyama turns to glance at Tsukishima. A follow up attack after a net bounce will certainly tire them out. His foot pivots, having just hit the ground from a futile block attempt. The tape is loose on the sides now, peeling off around the edges and the rips. The redhead’s manic glares from across the net have since progressed to tired psychopathy, and he intends to milk every last drop of energy from his mind. May the best mental processor win.

You watch him sprint, and he leaps, higher than he ever has. Tsukishima is agile, six foot two but light as a feather on his feet. His waist twists with his shoulders, his arms pulled back into a bow, ready to shoot. Yet something is odd. He is holding back. You watch the ball travel away from Tsukishima across the front court, positioning itself right in front of Tanaka’s hand as he strikes. There is a hole in Shiratorizawa’s defence, and the redhead knows it. He sneers, eyes darting wildly across the court as he runs to block, but the ball breaks through their fortress, slamming into the ground.

Another hole in the wall.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

The next time you and Tsukishima meet, it is your first year in Karasuno. You hadn’t seen, or spoken to him since the night he ran away from your house. Calls were sent straight to voicemail, messages were left on received, before not being sent at all. You waited day and night for his next song recommendation, his next album review, his next puzzle. The In Rainbows puzzle sits amongst the rest atop your dresser, and every time you glance at it from your bed, an unsettling weight settles on your chest.

Was that all you were to him? An ex dance partner?

To think that all those hours spent with a pair of earphones stretched between your heads as you assembled thousands of puzzle pieces into mosaics of music, tucked away into the corners of your lives, would have amounted to something. All the silent celebrations at each completed set, the late nights that the two of you worked in, gluing each jigsaw piece in place until they fitted together perfectly, all that made you believe the two of you had something special, something that quietly encompassed the space between your working minds and gentle fingers. You did not know him enough to amount to more than friends, but you knew enough about how he thought, moved, felt. You knew enough about the music he liked, his preference of building from corners, the way his palms cushioned your waist as he lifted you into the air. You knew enough for a friendship to have sufficed. Nothing more, nothing less, if he so desired.

How audacious. How audacious of him to waltz into your life, a perfectly assembled puzzle, and watch it shatter on the ground, all without a single apology.

The first Friday at Karasuno high, you are silent. The limp in your right leg goes unnoticed by most, yet the crowded halls prove a challenge, after-school rush is a true menace. You stay back, waiting for the crowd to die down, as your head turns to the billboard.

“Hip-hop Wednesdays! See you after school at the gym’s dance hall!”

Your mouth twitches, the unravelling of arms and shuffling of feet rushing into your head again. No, this won’t work. Doctor’s- no, podiatrist’s orders. The poster is alluring, however, and your eyes seem to linger at its warm invitation, until they are rudely knocked away from it.

“Why are you standing in a crowd rush, idiot?”

You turn to the voice, clear as day amongst the chatter of students and the quickening steps behind you. Amber eyes meet yours, narrow at first, then widening in shock as they register your presence. You bite the inside of your lip, pushing down his name as it claws its way up your throat. He stands taller now, towering over you as his eyes travel between your left and right irises. The wired earphones have been replaced by a shinier pair of headphones, a pair that won't dangle from his ears, or stretch between two heads anymore.

He stares, just long enough for the green-haired boy beside him to notice. Your name threatens to spill out of his mouth, but the letters tangle up in knots, blocking his windpipe. He imagines what it will be like to blurt it out, to let the words ring in your eardrums as he runs towards you. He hears himself in his head, his voice returning to its prepubescent meekness.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, y/n.”

He stares, just long enough to imagine the contempt in your eyes, the disdain in the curl of your lips, your sharp, stinging voice, shattering his final sliver of hope.

“How could you do this to me?”

He stares, just long enough to replay the lift again. The way your ankle twists and pops on impact with the ground, your panicked wheezes, his frantic sprint home at the realisation of what he had done. He has replayed the lift enough times to know where he should put his hands this time, how he should prop your body up against his palms, how he should admit that his elbows hurt- have hurt for weeks, even months. And his wrists, and his fingers, and his chest.

He stares, just long enough to rethink blurting out your name, and running towards you, but not long enough to regret turning away, and blending into the crowd again, speaking of volleyball instead of dance, Lamp instead of Radiohead.

Yet regret is a wisp of thick fog, trailing him insidiously as he descends the stairs, far away from you, from his guilt, from the mistake that will haunt him for as long as he lives.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

You see yourself in front of the gym anyways on Wednesday. You decide that you will not dance, you are only in your uniform and leather shoes after all. The gym door swings open to the sight of sweaty teenage boys donning sweatshorts and t-shirts, smacking volleyballs left and right, and you wonder how you are supposed to make your way into the dance room, tucked away in the corner of the gymnasium. You step inside, shuffling along the wall as balls shoot over your head, and land next to you, in front of you, behind you.

Yamaguchi nudges at Tsukishima's torso, watching you jog through the chaos of serving drills. He senses something wrong, something horribly out of place.

"Isn't that the girl? From last week?"

Tsukishima's eyes are trained onto the roll of tape, pulling it taught around his fingers. He chucks the roll onto a bench, and bounces the ball in his hand three times exactly, before holding it up with an outstretched arm. He pretends to aim his serve, but his eyes follow you as you scurry your way across the gym, and into the dance room.

"Who?"

Yamaguchi frowns. Tsukishima hits the serve out of bounds.

The dance room is empty, spare of around eight people. Their sneakers squeak against the ground, and you wince at the familiar noise. You set your bag down in front of the mirror, plugging a pair of earphones into your phone as you stick one in your ear, and shove your phone into your pocket. Leaning against the side of the mirror, you watch the members intently. They laugh, sweat dripping from their hair as their feet tangle together in shuffling drills. You wonder how it feels to join them, to loosen up the gears in your system- no, podiatrist's orders.

But they are happy, just as you felt when you once could move your feet as you pleased. They are content as they adjust each other's arms, and roll their hands across their bodies, just as you were when you used to push Tsukishima's torso into the right spot, and guide his arms through from his head, to around his chest- this is not the place for him to be. He ran away from you, left your puzzle pieces shattered and unruly, just to run back and remind you of what could have been. Cruel.

Fuck podiatrist's orders. A bit of light footwork can't hurt.

Music blares from your earphones, and your body moves with it intuitively. Arms first, popping and dragging as your feet glide across the ground with ease, then fingers, curling up and releasing in waves. The beat thunders through your skull, and it is only a matter of time until the others notice you. They cheer, they clap, they holler, and the limp in your leg fades away as the pieces of your puzzle begin to come together again.

A lonely figure watches you, ten feet from the doorway, before being joined by a green-haired boy

"Who is that, Tsukki?"

Yamaguchi doesn't notice how Tsukishima's eyes threaten to brim with tears. The vines have regained their life. They have returned to their rightful garden, receding from the road and into the rose bushes again, where they wrap around thorn-infested stems. He rolls his shoulders, squeezes his elbows, massages his wrists until the knots untangle. You never needed his lift, or his jigsaw puzzles, all you needed was a pair of earphones, music, and the floor was yours again.

"Yeah... yeah, just somebody that I used to know."

He walks back to his side of the gymnasium.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

Tsukishima's feet hit the ground, hands unscathed. Ushijima glares at him from across the net, meeting eye to eye without so much of a lift of his head. The twitch of his mouth speaks his mind as he eyes Karasuno's blockers up and down.

Don't fuck with us. Know your place beneath the doves, you scrambling crows.

How despicable.

Letting two clean hits strike their court has knocked down Karasuno's walls, and Tsukishima can feel the foundations beginning to crumble again. Shiratorizawa are reclaiming the rubble that Karasuno has collected, and he is unable to reconstruct the craters that are forming in their defence. He is using his mind, moving as the information wills him to, watching the ball, visualising the parabolic trajectory as the maximum height aligns with the palm of Shiratorizawa's hitters, springing to defend as the stopwatches click and ring in his head.

So why is nothing working?

No, don't let your own tricks fool you, Kei. Target their minds, when their morale crumbles, their walls will follow. Clear your head. Breathe in, breathe out.

His head turns to you, watching from the stands. Your eyes widen, a deer in headlights being caught in its glare. It is a long shot, he knows, but he needs his mind to flood with your words. Something, somewhere in there, must be the answer to his bleeding prayers. He is missing the central jigsaw piece. Think. Remember.

You freeze, his eyes burning holes into your own. You know him well enough to notice his knuckles trembling, and his eyebrows twitching erratically, and the confusion in his eyes, barricaded by the glare in his glasses, but evident nonetheless. You think you are hallucinating. Why is he looking at you? How did he notice you from the stands, amidst the chaos of their battle on the court?

What does he want?

Ukai's whistle blows, and his hands form a T, calling for a timeout. Tsukishima's eyes do not abandon yours. His lips are separated, just a bit more than usual as he drowns in the air around him. Think, Tsukishima. Where is the answer?

Where is the missing piece?

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

It takes you another five months to speak to Tsukishima again. The thought of him has been suppresssed until it is nothing but a snowflake drifting to the ground, the summer of your partnership reduced to nothing but a bleak, inglorious winter. You make friends, more friends than you have ever had. The eight members of the dance club become your new family, the ones who collect your shattered jigsaw pieces, and gently place them back in order, one by one. It is good. You are good.

But why is it that every time his blurry figure passes your eyes as you leave the gymnasium, tall, and lingering, and familiar, a piece falls out again?

Every Wednesday, you wait for the dance room to empty, for the others to pack away their things and make their way home, the sun descending behind the horizon of the school. You wait until they are out of sight, away from the vicinity of the gymnasium, and you stay.

You stay, and watch his figure from behind the door, tall, and lingering, and familiar.

You shouldn't, you know you shouldn't. You know that you didn't deserve it, what Tsukishima had done. He had, for a lack of a better word, crippled you, and you forgave him. He had never apologised, yet you forgave him as if he had anyways. You were never a fan of jigsaw puzzles, yet you amused him as he relentlessly brought them to you, day after day, week after week. The two of you would stretch a singular pair of worn out, flimsy earphones between your heads every night, sprawled across your bedroom floor. His fingers would tap the floorboards beneath him, syncing with the rhythm of the music, and yours would follow.

"Thanks for the puzzle, Tsukki."

"I'll come back with another one next week, okay?"

And he did, he really did, for weeks, until one day he didn't. Until one day, he decided that it was too much, too heavy of a burden, and he ran. And the days became weeks, the weeks months, and the months into an uneventful Friday, when he rudely runs into you amidst the crowded halls of Karasuno High.

And still, somewhere deep in your chest, your heart feels no contempt. Not even a trace of disdain. It has every right to, yet it lets go, and you forgive him silently.

You catch yourself staring now, your eyes refocusing as four eyes meet your own. You have been caught.

"Tsukki, go, now." The green-haired boy speaks imperatively. He can sense it everywhere, from the way Tsukishima freezes, to the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows hard, to the way his hands instinctively massage his wrists for no reason. Something is balanced, but horribly out of place. Something is so fragile that the mumble of a name will shatter its carefully sustained equilibrium.

So you run.

You run until they are out of sight, until all you hear are the confused murmurs of teenage boys, chattering amongst themselves as they stay behind to hone their techniques in the sickly white light of the gymnasium. Heavy steps follow behind yours, equally as desperate.

“y/n, please!”

A hand reaches out for, and just barely misses your wrist, limbs stretched as far as they can to catch up. Moths flutter around a wall mounted moth trap on the school building, aimless, persistent. You wish in that moment that you too can participate in their aimless worship of a buzzing trap, bask in the scathing heat of its radiation, deadly as a running current to your fragile body. Anything to avoid this. You swing around, and he staggers back.

“What do you want from me, Tsukishima?”

The words tangle in this throat again, blocking his windpipes. He is running out of time. He can see the stars on your converses pivoting away, threatening to leave him behind in his own pile of jigsaw pieces. Get it together, Kei. Untangle the words, pick them apart with every finger you have, force the knots through the throat if they won’t come apart. Anything to face this.

“I’m sorry."

You stop in your tracks to face him. He can't even look you in the eye. Pathetic.

"I’m so sorry, y/n. I’m sorry I ruined your life, and I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it.”

"What?"

The words rush out of your throat, the force of a million tonnes unable to suppress them any longer. You step up to him, disliking how your closeness makes you want to falter, to openly forgive him, to acknowledge that you need his fingers to put it back, so that the final piece will fall into place permanently.

“Fix it?”

Your finger jabs at his chest with every scathing sentence. He doesn’t retaliate. He stands in place, pitiful, expectant. He is smaller than you, compressed into nothing but a moth attracted to a trap.

“I didn’t need your fixing, Kei! I didn’t ask for you to fix me!”

The air between you is congealed, heavy with your frantic breaths, and the deafening silence from Tsukishima’s pursed lips. A moth touches the light, and falls to the ground, twitching lifelessly as the electricity surges through its fragile body.

“All I wanted was to finish another puzzle with you!”

He grabs your wrist, your finger jabbed into the dip of his ribs, and your fist loosens. What now? Should he pull you towards him, so he can be sure that he knows where to place his hands this time? Should he grab your shoulders, and beg for your hatred, after all that he has failed to do? Should he turn away, shriveled and cowardly, knowing that there is nothing he can do that will ever make amends for what he has done to you?

"I loved watching you dance. All I wanted was to be like you."

He smiles sadly, releasing your wrist from his grasp as it falls to your side. He takes a step back, away from you.

"Don't let me hold you back."

He has never held you back, not his mistake, not his abandonment either. And he will not hold you back now, not like this, even if you want him to.

You turn away, and leave him under the light of the moth trap.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

Ukai's words drone on as Tsukishima shoves the ribbon of limp, ripped up tape from his fingers into his pockets. He wraps a new piece around his palms this time, that is what is holding him back. He is lying to himself.

Don't look up. Don't look at the stands. Keep your head down, and your mind intact. Reinforce Karasuno's walls to break Shiratorizawa's fortress.

"Tsukishima! Are you hearing this?"

He looks up from his hands, yes, yes he is hearing it. He is definitely hearing it.

"Sorry?"

Ukai rubs his temples, and adjusts his hairband.

"Fuck, whatever, stay off for a bit until you're ready. Hinata, take his place. Let's get it going again."

Look up, y/n is right there. They're watching. They have the answer.

His head lifts towards the stands, and you are gone.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

The green-haired boy, who you now know is Yamaguchi, practically begs for you to watch the Shiratorizawa finals. You aren't sure how he finds you, but he does, bumbling and clumsy as he shuts the door to the dance hall behind him, careful not to attract any attention.

"Please, not for Tsukki, but for us. We need him, or this game may as well be over before it even starts."

"He's been doing fine without me there, what makes you think I need to go?"

Yamaguchi has returned to his usual, meek self, rendered speechless by your retort. He doesn't think that you need to go, he knows it. He knows it in the way Tsukishima rubs his elbows before every round, and the way he squeezes his wrists until they are all the shades of pink. He knows it in the noises that plague Tsukishima's mind as he estimates the angles of contact, predicts the trajectory of the ball. He knows it in Tsukishima's movements, the movements of a machine, but not a player.

"Please, I'm begging you, just this once."

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

And that is how you end up here, staring at your own reflection in the Shiratorizawa changing room mirrors.

"Get it together, y/n. What the fuck are you doing?"

Should you go back to the stands? No, he'll find you, and you aren't sure how you will react this time. You haven't rehearsed the clever things that you can say to him, nor the articulation of your rampant, conflicting emotions. Why did he find you? How did he find you, hidden so well amongst the roaring crowd of Karasuno students? You twist the tap open, disgruntled, and shove your face into the running water, letting it roll down your chin, seep into your shirt, enter the canals of your ears. Whipping your head out, you shut the tap, running your dry hands over your face and wiping it down with your arms.

"y/n?"

How?

"I need help."

You shove your hands in your pockets, stepping away from the mirror and turning to face Tsukishima, who stands at the wall outside the doorway. His glasses rest above his head, hair pushed back by the frames. The same look of confusion paints his face pale, and his hands surrender by his sides, fingers twitching erratically.

"I don't know what's wrong. Nothing is working. The angles are right, I know exactly where the ball is going, but I can't stop it. It just keeps coming, and I'm throwing the game away because my body just won't fucking work with me," He collapses to the ground, knees buckling beneath him as his back slides down along the wall. He props his elbows up by his knees, wrists pressed together in frustration.

You know exactly what it is. Fuck it.

You walk up to him, his body hunched in desperation, hopelessness, embarrassment. His eyes dart around, avoiding yours, and he hangs his head low as a last ditch attempt to turn away from you.

No, this won't do. He needs to go back to the summer.

Your crouch to his level, and your hand grabs his chin, fingers pinching it tight as you push his head up to face you. His eyes are teary now, like a dog begging for its owner to come home. You think carefully about your next words. It is now, or nothing.

"Breathe in, and surrender."

You can see the disillusionment in his eyes as his gears turn again, grasping at your words as he tries to decipher them. No, he is still not getting it.

"No, stop it. Stop turning the gears."

You pull his face towards yours, and you can feel his breath hitch, inches away from your own.

"This game, it is all just a dance. An extended routine with a prop that hovers back and forth above the ground. There is no order, so stop turning the gears. Let it go, use your senses."

His eyes widen as you release his chin from your grip. And for the first time in almost a year, you smile in his face. He understands now, you had the answer all along. You stand up, and offer him your hand. Neither of you notice Yamaguchi at the entrance to the hallway, grinning knowingly. He was right to convince you.

"You need to let it fall into place."

That cocky smirk slithers onto his face again, but there is a tinge of something else there. Something that encompasses the inches between the two of you. Something that is rearranging the shattered pile of jigsaw pieces that Tsukishima has been standing in for as long as he has left you. He should have found you sooner, approached you earlier, bought you the next puzzle that you waited for.

"Like a jigsaw?"

"Yeah, like a jigsaw."

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

As he re-enters the court, Tsukishima is a changed man. You watch from the stands, holding your breath as he takes his place in the front. The redhead scoffs at his return, the others roll their eyes, rub their temples, click their tongues. All Tsukishima does is adjust his glasses, hands by his head in anticipation for the first smack of the ball.

They will tire themselves out. Watch the ball, envision its path. Let your body move as it wills.

The ball flies across the net, landing on the platform of Shiratorizawa's fortress. He watches its path. It is in the air. Let it be, it is not in place yet. He can see the frustration in Shiratorizawa's eyes at his return. Push them, just a bit more, until the frustration begins to overflow and spill around the edges of their defences.

The ball approaches the small one on the side, and you watch as it slips from his fingers. They are getting impatient, the toss is too short, too tight to hit perfectly, even with Ushijima's formidable strength. You smirk as the ball curves in its path, ever so slightly out of place for Shiratorizawa, perfectly in place for Karasuno. This is what you have been waiting for.

And it seems that this is what Tsukishima has been waiting for too.

"Let it fall into place."

This is it, this is the place, and the time, and the position, and the angle, and everything in between. He glances at you for a millisecond, and your gaze is clear as day, amongst the hundreds that surround you.

"Like a jigsaw?"

Ever so subtly, you nod. He understands now.

"Yeah, like a jigsaw."

These are the final pieces, falling into place in tandem with each other.

He jumps, and the ball strikes his palm like a canonball, deflecting back into Shiratorizawa's court, too quickly for anybody to save it, too close to Ushijima for anybody to reach. The others stare in shock. His own team, those on the other side of the net, those in the stands. The court is pitch silent, the sound of leather on hardwood reverberating through his skull.

It is only one block. One block out of hundreds he has done before. One point out of twenty five.

Yet as he raises his fist, gripping it hard, your chest swells with pride.

"LET'S GO KEI! LET'S FUCKING GO!"

Your cry leads the crowd behind you as a flurry of cheers and applause commences. Even amongst the roaring cries of excitement from above, from behind, from beside, his mind trains onto your voice, and your voice only.

The lift of the final jigsaw piece that falls into place.

♪〰〰🎧〰〰♪

author's note:

man this was so fun to write, too bad i need to go back to studying for my high school finals after this </3

omg also i need to gush about @starlysama because their sunflower fic fully threw me back into my fanfiction writing frenzy and it was so good and i spent like twenty minutes with my eyes trained to my phone no blinking while i read their work it was INCREDIBLE and i love you

also i really did put my heart and soul and tutoring hours into this so i really hope you guys like it ngl or i will cry please don't get scared at the word count it's not that bad I PROMISE also please feel very very welcome to comment or reblog because i love reading them so much

okay bye bye everyone see you soon

152 notes · View notes

bradleysass · 3 months ago

Text

Jigsaw - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 386 - Starchaser + Wolfstar

CW: Theyre watching Saw, a thriller movie

James Potter was regretting his life choices.

He wasn’t sure how he ended up in this situation, curled up on the couch between his boyfriend, who was analyzing a serial killer’s methodology like it was a bloody textbook, and his best friend, who was laughing maniacally every time someone on-screen met a gruesome fate.

“This is ridiculous,” Remus scoffed from his armchair, arms crossed over his chest. “Half of these traps wouldn’t even function the way they’re meant to.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Regulus said, gesturing sharply at the screen, his voice filled with disdain. “Take this reverse bear trap, for example—”

“No, thank you,” James interrupted, burrowing further into the couch.

Regulus ignored him. “The mechanics don’t add up. If the goal is to snap the jaw open with that much force, the tension required would be immense, which means the metal should be visibly straining. But it’s not.” He huffed. “Shoddy engineering.”

“Not the problem, Reggie,” James whimpered, eyes squeezed shut. “The problem is that it’s happening at all.”

“Mate, you’re missing the best part!” Sirius cackled, elbowing him. “Look, look! Here comes the iconic foot scene.”

“I don’t want to see the iconic foot scene!” James all but wailed, burying his face in Regulus’ shoulder.

Regulus sighed dramatically but patted his head, used to James’ dramatics. “Honestly, James, it’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Nothing to be scared of?” James pulled away to stare at him incredulously. “That man is sawing off his foot, Regulus.”

Regulus raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. “And?”

James turned to Remus for support. “Moony, back me up here!”

Remus shrugged. “It’s just bad science.”

“BAD SCIENCE?!”

Sirius was howling with laughter now, clutching his stomach as he pointed at James. “You’re so weak, Prongs! This is nothing. We should watch Hostel next.”

James looked genuinely betrayed. “I thought we were best friends.”

Sirius wiped a tear from his eye. “We are, which is why this is so much fun.”

Regulus leaned over, pressing a kiss to James’ temple. “It’s okay, darling. If it makes you feel better, I’m sure you’d never be caught in one of these traps. You don’t have the attention span for Jigsaw’s moral lessons.”

James groaned and sank back into the couch. “I hate all of you.”

Sirius beamed. “Love you too, Prongsie.”

#black brothers microfic #marauders #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #wolfstar #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #microfic

71 notes · View notes

silentium-symphony · 2 months ago

Text

Hey, You Free? Modern AU (Link x Reader)

hiii so sorry this took so long!! i had actually been working on another fic before shelving it and deciding to work on a Valentine's fic.... a week after Valentine's LMAO but wtv. thank you one again for being patient w me and I hope you enjoy!!

cw: afab!reader, modern!au, fluff, bestie!link, link is kinda fruity lol, getting a lil wine-tipsy, mentions of an unnamed ex

wc: 4.1k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Another Valentine's alone.

You sipped on the glass of wine, careful not to spill the burgundy liquid on your ultra-expensive and super duper classy outfit of a thrice-worn t-shirt and shorts when a notification bubbled over the TikTok you were watching.

Linky Twinky🧚🏼‍♂️: Hey, you free?

You set the glass down with a gentle ting and tapped on the notification, opening up your messaging app. Your fingers giddily flew across the screen, a gremlin grin hooking your lips.

You: ofc I am 🥲🥲 why what's up??

You thumbed the body of your glass and stared at the three dots that popped in and out of the screen. Anticipation and baited breath straightened your slumped posture and your cheeks started to heat up as you remembered the slobby outfit you were wearing. You seem to have a second sense when it came to these things because a few short moments later, he replied:

Linky Twinky🧚🏼‍♂️: I'm coming over

You immediately jumped out of your lounged hunch and headed straight for your wardrobe, already half-disrobed by the time you swung the doors open. You frantically typed back a response.

You: wait what 😭 hol up i look ugly rn LOL

You had just dunked your grimy clothes in the hamper when your phone chimed.

Linky Twinky🧚🏼‍♂️: Girrlll you always look gorg whatchu talkin abt 😍🤪😩✨️

Now why tf did your heart flutter lmao

You hearted his message before you tried on Outfit #1. You twirled around the mirror and smoothed out the trivial wrinkles and creases that rippled through the cloth. It was one of your more upscale outfits, worn only during special or dressier occasions. Your once proud smile faltered to a disgusted grimace. It looked like you were trying too hard (you were).

Outfit #2 perfectly encapsulated ‘casual…’ But what if it was too casual? It was barely a step above what you were wearing before… You jerked the top off and stomped out of the bottoms when your phone buzzed again.

Linky Twinky 🧚🏼‍♂️: I'm picking up food bc I seriously doubt you ate yet >:( what do you want?

You thumbed through the makings of Outfit #3 while you pondered the age-old question of “what's for dinner” when you responded:

You: idk lol. where are you?? what's nearby?

Linky Twinky 🧚🏼‍♂️ : So helpful, thanks 🥴🙃 but I'm at the intersection of 26th and Westgate. It looks like there's some pizza nearby??? You good with that or do you want something else?

You: pizza sounds good! ty pookie <333 do you want me to pay you back??

He hearted the message.

Linky Twinky 🧚🏼‍♂️: Nah it's fine. What kind of toppings do you want?

You tapped your desired toppings and sauce base and pressed send.

Linky Twinky 🧚🏼‍♂️: Got it. See you in a bit babe 😘

Why did your heart flutter AGAIN C'MON MAN GET IT TOGETHER

You let out a raggedy sigh and haphazardly tossed your phone onto your bed. Your fingers danced atop the rainbow arrangement of hangers as your mind’s eye jigsaw-ed an outfit from the pieces you plucked out. You began slipping on the garments.

Outfit #3 looked the most promising so far! The perfect blend of casual and classy—thank the gods you found it in time. You did a lil’ dance in front of your mirror and shuffled the rejected outfits back into your closet. You hauled ass to your TV to turn on 24/7 LIVESTREAM Fireplace ASMR Crackling Sound for Sleep, Study, and Relaxation with Smooth Jazz and set down a second glass to accompany your lonely first. You placed the wine in the fridge to chill it when your phone buzzed.

Linky Twinky 🧚🏼‍♂️: Got the pizza. Should be there in about 10 min

You placed the wine in the freezer to chill it. While the wine was chilling and hopefully not freezing or whatever, you fluffed and arranged the pillows on your sofa and smoothed that one corner of your rug that's been creased into a new shape thanks to your klutzy self. The small, somewhat inconspicuous stains on your countertops might as well have drawn an arrow to themselves and twerked in the spotlight as adrenaline-pumped shame overtook you. You had just finished scrubbing your counters and chucking your dirty dishes into the wash when your phone chimed once more.

Linky Twinky 🧚🏼‍♂️: Here. Let me in I'm freezing

You took one last look-over in the mirror before grabbing your keys and heading out the door. One hand combed through your lightly tousled hair while the other hearted Link’s message. The tip of your elbow was employed to get the elevator up and running. As the churning hum of metal cables and gears worked its way up the idle space, you rocked back and forth on your heels in time with your quickening heart. You swiped open your phone's camera and broomed and brushed the wisps and strays that clung to your forehead. The elevator announced its arrival with an off-tune ding!

The soft hum of elevator music rivaled the rackety grates of metal-on-metal from outside your confines. With a final lurch, the elevator doors rolled open with that off-tune ding! You rounded the corner and sped-walked down the short hallway; the side profile of a young man sitting on one of the benches outside, hunched over pitifully and protectively over a pizza box, filled your view. A chuckled bubbled out of you as you pressed your key fob against the sensor, unlocking the door with a soft click.

Link's face, reddened and scrunched by grueling winds and below-zero temperatures, immediately lit up seeing his pretty… so pretty savior halo'd by the lobby's warm light. He hopped up and immediately dashed for the slowly opening door.

“Thank the gods, I thought I was gonna die out there.” He chattered through shaking teeth, his lips drawn back into a lopsided grin. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a quick side hug, careful not to crush the fruits of his labor. His cold shocked your system, but his face warmed up fairly quickly.

“Thanks for coming by. I really appreciate it.” You hummed, releasing your grapple and leading him back to the elevator. “Do you want me to hold that for you?”

“Nah I got it, thanks.” He snorted. “I felt like SpongeBob delivering pizza to that one dude who lived in the middle of nowhere.”

A belly laugh rumbled through the both of you as you hopped on the elevator and whirred up the floors.

“How's your Valentine's goin’?” He inquired, a goofy tilt in his voice.

You dished out the nastiest stink eye and scoffed. “Alone, thanks for asking.”

“Not for long, babe. I'm here now.” The only thing more charming than his wink was that boyish smile he flashed. Your cheeks warmed and your hands found his muscular bicep in a playful smack. He laughed in time with the ding and watched you stomp your way to your unit. He caught up with you in a few strides as you unlocked the door to the intimately lit room.

Link stood wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the place, absently failing to shuffle out of his boots.

“Wow. You really cleaned up the place.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You huffed with a wry smile, taking the cold pizza from his hands so he could undo his boot laces. You turned your back to your gawking guest as you eyed the re-heating instructions on the cardboard.

“Girl, I've seen you and your apartment at your worst.” He neatly placed his boots to the side and folded his arms. “Remember how I visited you every day for a whole month after that piece of shit broke up with you a week before your birthday?”

“Ugh, don't remind me.” You heated up the oven and slipped the pizza in. “Gods, that was horrible… I've only lasted this long thanks to you.”

You turned to see him sitting at your counter, balancing the skinny neck of your wine glass with his fingers.

“Have you ever wondered where he is now?” He asked, absently watching the wine slosh side-to-side.

“Nah. I stopped caring once he started balding.”

You both let out a squealy holler followed by unhinged cackling.

“Girl, forget the bullet—you dodged a whole nuclear missile.” He concluded with glee, sipping the wine with a content sigh. “You deserve to be treated like the queen you are.”

“Thanks, babe.” You snickered, stealing back your glass from your exasperated bestie. A look of faux offense gripped his sharp features.

“What?” You chortled. “This is my glass. The empty one is yours.”

“Sooo where's the wine?”

“In the freezer.”

“The freezer?” He repeated incredulously, his nose crinkling at that revelation. He opened your freezer and was met face-to-bottle with fine aged wine.

“Huh. All right.”

He poured himself a healthy amount and held out his glass for a toast. With matching smiles, your glasses met with a soft cling and you both sipped the bold, fruity concoction. Link's eyes glazed over and shut as he reveled in another sip.

“This is good. Where did you buy this?”

“I got it as a gift when I had my promotion. My boss gave it to me.”

“Wish my boss would do that.” He sighed. “The only thing she gives me is more work.”

“I thought you loved your work?” You hummed, slumping over the counter and closer to Link.

“Oh, I do. Don’t get me wrong, I love working for Zelda but… She really makes me work for that check, y’know what I mean?” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, she's a hard-worker… Super pretty too.” You slipped in quietly, gauging his response. He shrugged and took another sip.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Not gonna lie, your heart raced at his nonchalant remark and you felt like a giddy little schoolgirl fishing for validation from your crush. Liquid courage may be whispering something to you as you asked aloud,

“Have you been seeing anyone?”

Link's eyes widened and he slammed his cup back down, hurriedly swallowing the glass’s contents before coughing and rubbing his chest. You grabbed him a napkin and awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry, didn't mean to spring it on you like that! I think the alcohol is getting to me…”

“Uh—…. Uh-huh…” He mumbled, shock evidently laced through his features.

“You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

“I haven't.”

“Wh… Huh?”

“I haven't been seeing anyone.” He looked at you, eyes still bright but edged with an earnestness you weren't used to seeing. Frankly, it felt rather… intimately intimidating to be under his unblinking gaze.

“O-Oh…? And why is that…?”

The faintest twitch tugged his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to speak, but the digital beep beep beep from your oven pulled you out of your hazed stupor. With a stiff laugh, you pulled away and slipped on your oven mitts.

“P-Pizza's done! Haha, almost forgot about it.”

You pulled down the oven door and was hit first with a wall of hot air and second by the delicious, hearty aroma of freshly heated pizza. You pulled the comfortingly toasty box out of the oven and set it back down under Link's nose. The both of you ooh'ed and aah'ed at the final reveal, watching the gooey melted cheese mingle with your favorite toppings and—.

“Oooh, cheese-filled crust?”

“Mhmm. It's a special day, after all.”

“Hell yeah, man.” You dished out two plates and scooped up a gooey slice, carefully avoiding the hot stringy cheese from scalding your fingers. Link waited for you to fish out your slice before he dove for the one next to yours. You puffed hasty breaths over its sizzling surface and took the first bite of sustenance you'd had all day. The crust was warm and slightly crisp, softening deliciously under the weight of the pizza's sauce. The cheese filled your mouth with warmy goodness, and your favorite toppings elevated the simple meal into something divine.

You cast a glance back at Link, who was looking right at you with a small smirk.

“Mm-what?” You muddled.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” He cocked his head to the side, grin widening.

“This shit's good as fuck.”

“Yeah, but you were having a whole moment.” A sudden heat surged through your cheeks and you cleared your throat, averting your gaze.

“Don't be mad, but… This may or may not be my first meal of the day.”

“Girl, I swear to Hylia—”

“I'm sorry! I just got distracted…”

“Doing what? You're off today.”

reading fanfics “Uh… TikTok?”

An audible groan heaved out of the man as he took another bite.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You should eat at least twice a day if you can. Of course it'd be great if you could have three meals, but if you can't, at least two! Just two!”

“I know, I know, you're right…”

“Mhmm, you only say that to get me off your back… C’mon, you have to remember to eat. Please? Please don't forget to eat, okay?”

“Okay, fine! I'll remember, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Yesss, I promise…”

“Good. Thank you.” With a satisfied nod, he finished the rest of his first slice before decorating his plate with two more. “Let's watch a movie. What’re you in the mood for?”

“Mm… I wanna watch a Ghibli movie.”

“Oooh okay, what were you thinking?”

You filed through your mental catalogue at an unhurried pace, adding additional slices to your plate and brimming your near-empty cup with more wine. Link followed suit and moved the pizza and wine over to your coffee table, plunking down in your sofa's soft cushions. With a click of a button, he pulled up several streaming services that had Studio Ghibli's best films.

“We've got Ponyo, Spirited Away, Arrietty…” He mumbled, thumbing through the selection.

“Wanna watch Howl?”

“Howl's Moving Castle?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. I love that one.” While the on-screen cursor shuffled through the carousel of films, he patted the space beside him. “C'mere.”

You took a large swig of wine before ambling over and plopping down beside him.

Perhaps… a little too close, you thought as his residual body heat emanated through you. You tried shuffling away a bit, worried he might be uncomfortable, but the wine had begun to dull your motor functions just a tad. You let out a chesty cough as you dove for your pizza and wine, hoping you could rock yourself away as you told yourself over and over that it was only the wine that was making you feel all warm and tingly inside.

The iconic blue logo of the beloved movie studio beamed through the screen. Link got up with a huff to turn off the rest of the lights, leaving you sagged and chilled from his absence. Your heart pulsed with a confusing jolt of relief and excitement when he promptly returned to his post right beside you, ignoring the other 90% of the sofa. You didn’t know whether your heart or thoughts were racing faster as the opening sequence to Howl's Moving Castle idled by.

The mechanical hiss and creaks of Howl’s castle lurching through the fog grounded you enough to begin to relax, slumping more and more into the back of your cushions until you were in a comfortable lounge. As you grew more engrossed in the film, your surroundings (including your best friend) began to fade away from your mind’s eye.

Link downed several gulps of wine, hardly tasting and much less appreciating the dark, full-bodied notes of the cabernet. A velvety rush coursed through him as he peeked down at you, fully in tune with the movie. He weakly disguised his chuckle with a cough as his arms stretched up, his cough turning into a more noticeable ahem that was just enough to break the movie’s spell.

“Um… Is it okay if I put my arm here…?” He murmured, careful to speak only just above the TV’s volume but loud enough to be heard clearly. You looked at him, your slightly agape mouth contrasting your widened eyes as he gestured to the backpiece of the sofa.

“Oh, uh, yeah… For sure, go ahead…” You squeaked, his now absent arm and gravity making you fall closer to his side.

“Thanks…” He tentatively wrapped his arm atop the fabric. “Sorry, my arm was bent in a weird position.”

A white lie, but shhh.

“You’re all good.” You assured with a smile. “Uh… Is it okay if I scoot a bit closer?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He breathed, swiftly covering up the little warble in his voice by clearing his throat.

“Thanks. Just a bit cold, ‘s all.”

A white lie, but shhh.

It wasn’t very long before you were both entranced by the movie, your hearts occasionally skipping a beat or a breath getting caught in your throats when either of you shuffled into the other.

You both silently watched the film, allowing yourself to be transported into the dreamy and nostalgic landscape of the fantasy world. As the movie worked its magic, you were internally smiling as the movie slowly approached the scene that would introduce the titular ♡Howl♡.

You let out a throaty, unhinged cackle when his clothed chest came into view, his arm protectively wrapping around the heckled Sophie. Link physically recoiled from the horrible sound.

“What?!”

“Howl!!!”

“Huh? I-I mean, yeah, but what—”

“Ughghgh, look at that scrumptious snack of a man.” You, quite loudly, mm-mm-MM’ed before taking another bite of your pizza and yet another heavy swig of your drink. “The things I would let that man do to me.”

A twinge of jealousy tugged at Link’s heartstrings and he scoffed at himself. No way he was fucking jealous of a fictional 2D man. But seeing you swoon over Howl in real-time sparked in him very similar feelings to when he saw you gushing about your balding ex.

“What, you got a thing for blonde hair, blue-eyed twinks guys?”

“Well I mean, look at him!” You turned, almost nose-to-nose with a blonde hair, blue-eyed twink guy. The corners of his lips cocked wickedly as a brow raised.

“Yeah? What about him?”

“I mean,” You blubbered, “I don’t know, he’s just… Well, he’s handsome and I don’t know, he’s got this boyish charm that’s really…”

“Yeah? Really what?”

“Really… Um, attractive?”

“Huh.” He exhaled. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“Never knew you had a type.”

“Well, not necessarily! If I like someone, I just like them. That’s it.”

“So what makes you like someone?”

“Like, if we just vibe together I guess…”

“So you guys just… have to vibe?”

“No, it’s more than that! I like someone who is kind, patient, loyal…” Howl began to fade from your mind. “Smart, funny… Aggressively caring...”

“’Aggressively caring?’” He repeated with a bemused lilt in his tone.

“Yeah, someone who makes sure I’m doing okay. Someone who calls me out of the blue because they saw something that reminded them of me. Someone who tells me to take care of myself all the time… Someone who,” you swallowed, “visits me every day for a whole month after a breakup.”

His tilted smile stiffened and his eyes crinkled from general amusement to something more. You continued, gut gnawing and breath clenching.

“Someone who takes care of me when I don’t have the strength to do so. Someone who reminds me that I’m capable of great things and pushes me to work for it. Someone who has never once stopped believing in me. Someone… Like you, Link.”

“(F/N)…”

“I like you, Link.” You drew your eyes to your hands. “A lot. And I know this is really sudden and I’m sorry for catching you off-guard, but—”

A firm grip hooked your forearm before you were lunged into something warm and firm. Your senses were enveloped by the faint smell of pine and amber, and the rapid thumps in his chest echoed through your core. Strong arms encircled you and pulled you closer, almost suffocatingly so, while a gentle hand carded through your hair.

“I… like you too.” He murmured to the top of your head.

“H-… What…?”

“I like you too, (F/N).” He pulled away, catching your flickering looks with his steady gaze. “For awhile now, actually.”

“R-Really?”

He nodded with a ‘mm,’ his warming cheeks spilling its heat onto yours. He brushed the flyaways from your face and cupped your cheeks in his hands, beholding you with such love and adoration you felt like melting.

“Oh, (F/N)…” You were pulled into another hug. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

You nuzzled into his chest before his voice rumbled in your ear.

“Can I… Kiss your forehead?”

The innocent, almost juvenile request made your heart flutter, and if you weren't wrapped up in the comfiest bear hug you've ever been in, you definitely would have been squealing and kicking your feet. You looked up at him with a twinkle in your eye.

“I can do you one better.” You leaned in, your soft lips capturing his cheek. The heat blooming through your lips disappeared as quickly as it had come as you shyly pulled away.

“I think I can actually top that.” His face drew nearer, hovering just over yours. The fruity bitterness of the red wine diluted your senses into a mirthful haze. “Is… this okay…?”

Your widening smile and gentle nod was all the confirmation he needed to close the distance.

It was tender, soft, slow. His lips moved and melded with yours so perfectly, capturing every little moan and sigh that escaped you. He pulled away only to come again in soft devotion, his lips and hands caressing you with delicate worship. The soothing circles he rubbed into your cheeks paid no mind to the growing heat spilling between his fingers. The cold of the room blanketed your moistened lips suddenly; a shiver sourced from the cold heightened to one of pleasure as he languidly and carefully balanced your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You’re perfect…” He mumbled through your gasp, trailing butterfly kisses down your jaw and to the crook of your neck. You wound your arms around his neck and let out a wanton moan, filled with a deep-broiling need you weren’t cognizant of until now. He traced his lips up your neck, relishing in the goosebumps that prickled his sensitive flesh.

“Perfect and glorious, like the first light of dawn…” He caught your lips again, the motion tinged with something heavier this time, but still full of the awe and reverence he had initially bestowed. You pulled him closer, each of you melting into the other. You felt him sinking closer and closer to you, his hand traveling to the small of your back, almost to aid your gentle descent into your sofa.

“You’re wonderful… So, so good to me…” You breathed out in between kisses, your head spinning and filled with nothing but the thought of him. He pulled away slightly and combed your hair back, a slight smile on his lips. His lips met yours in between words.

“You are so beautiful, (F/N)…” Your eyes fluttered shut, basking in his endless kisses and whispered confessions of utter devotion. “I've wanted this for so long, I almost can't believe that we…”

“Are… together?” You finished, pecking the tip of his nose with childish delight. His chest heaved a laugh as his hands traveled to your hips, hoisting the both of you up into your previously seated positions. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your forehead while his hands left your hips to take residence in your hands, tracing the curve of each finger with giggle-filled pecks.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

“Yeah, you mentioned it over text earlier.” You chortled, watching him finish his loving ministrations with a kiss to the back of one hand before moving on to the other.

“And I meant it.”

The sincerity in his baby blue eyes and tenor tone made your heart swoon all the more. You bounced kisses and excited whispers amongst yourselves, until the terrified shriek of Howl cut through the peace. Both of you flinched as two pairs of eyes locked in at the source of the scream. You and Link watched your fictional crush zoom out of the bathroom to yell at the transformed Sophie for switching up his haircare potions.

“Do you wanna just start this thing over?” Link chuckled, watching the chaos unfold on the screen.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You finished off the rest of your now-cold pizza while Link restarted the movie. With a couple clicks, the familiar bright blue of Studio Ghibli's logo silently filled the room. You turned to him, imprinting the image of blues and shadows painting his features in your memory forever.

“Link?”

“Mm?”

“Happy Valentine's Day.”

He turned to face you and flashed that smile—the one that had you falling in love over and over again.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Valentine.”

#link #link x you #link x reader #legend of zelda #loz #link legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fandom #loz link x reader #this was honestly so fun to write teehee #i like writing gremlin link!#i think i usually write him as this stoic and quiet character (which i think is an accurate desc of him)#but it was nice to experiment and flesh out more of his unhinged gremlin side >:)

53 notes · View notes

smokingrot · 27 days ago

Text

Love it when you love me

pairing: cho sang-woo/player 218 x reader

summary: you and sang-woo have this complicated, on-and-off relationship that's never gone past simple pecks but one night that all changes

tw/cw: implied nsfw, situationship, alcohol usage, tension, (kind of?) toxic relationship, slight angst

wc: 1,749 | not proofread, lowk rushed

You’ve always been able to read him. His remarks are always measured, never too much or too little, and his silences stretch out. the faint movement of his eyes as he's thinking about something. His mind is quick, keen, and always a few steps ahead, but you always manage to catch up somehow. Or at least you've convinced yourself of that.

He is still a maze, a complex jigsaw with pieces that change when you think you have them figured out; it isn't that you've cracked the code of his nature. However, there are times when he is with you, and his walls crumble to reveal something more tender. He spotted you chuckling at a joke you read on your phone, for example. He grinned instead of squinting his eyes as he usually does, ready to analyze you with his usual icy accuracy. There was a faint, fleeting smile, but it was there. You're positive it was.

There is a slight change in him while you are together too. His posture slightly relaxes when it's just the two of you, either in his apartment or in a quiet spot at a café. For a brief moment, his usual firmness disappears, and you can see how his eyes soften as they meet yours. When he passes you your coffee, his hand lingers on yours for a bit too long. It's enough to give you the impression that he's enjoying your company, albeit briefly. that, unlike the others, you are not merely an obligatory presence to him.

But then, of course, there’s the other side—the side that rises to the surface when someone dares to disturb his peace.

You’ve seen it. The way his voice dips into that quiet, almost imperceptible tone when he’s dealing with someone who’s crossed a line. It’s like the world around him disappears, and all that matters is the person standing in front of him. You’ve learned to stay quiet, to watch, as he calmly dismantles them with nothing but his voice and his cool, detached expression.

Like that one time the barista messed up your order—messed it up badly. Sang-woo didn’t raise his voice, not even an inch. He tilted his head, frowned slightly, and said, “I’m sure this isn’t what she asked for. Try again, but this time, get it right.”

The barista’s face turned the color of an overcooked espresso shot. He hurriedly fixed your drink, not saying a word, while Sang-woo stood there, still as stone, like he commanded the very air around him. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. It was a little funny, watching the guy scramble—but also strangely… charming.

“You do that a lot, don’t you?” you asked later as you both sat down with your drinks. “Make people squirm, I mean.”

Sang-woo glanced at you, his usual hard expression softening just a touch. “If they don’t know how to get it right, then someone has to teach them,” he said, business as usual, but with the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth.

You couldn’t help but chuckle while he was dead serious.

And now, here you are, back at his apartment. It’s been a quieter night than usual, but somehow more relaxed, almost domestic. You’ve spent the last hour lounging on his couch, teasing him about his constant critiques of your movie suggestions. He’s been more… gentle with his responses tonight, his usual sharpness dulled. But there’s something about the way he keeps glancing at you, like he’s measuring how much of a smile he can allow before it becomes too much.

You’re flipping through a book, lazily sprawled on the couch, when he suddenly speaks up. “Still reading that? I thought we agreed it was terrible.”

You look up, giving him a playful smirk. “It’s not terrible. You just have no taste.”

He glances at you, that trademark look of amusement flickering in his eyes. He opens his mouth to deliver one of his usual dismissive lines, but then—something surprising happens. He picks up your book and reads the title aloud, his voice teasing. “Well, if you insist on reading this nonsense, at least let me make fun of you for it.”

You snatch the book back, feeling that flutter in your chest, the way he teases just enough to make it fun, but never enough to push you away. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, hiding your grin behind the pages.

Then, he does something even more unexpected. He sets the book down beside you and leans in a little closer than usual. “You like to think you’ve got me figured out,” he says, his voice dropping to something softer, almost like a secret. “But I’m not always what I seem.”

Your heart stumbles, but you try to keep your composure, shrugging it off. “Maybe I like the mystery. Keeps things interesting.”

He tilts his head, his eyes dark and calculating. “Maybe,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “But if you keep assuming you know everything, I’ll stop letting you guess.”

You laugh, a little too loud, but it’s hard not to when his tone is so serious and his expression so mischievous. You’re not sure if you’re laughing at the situation or because you’re just so caught up in the mystery of him—this man who could shut you out at any second but for some reason chooses not to.

Dinner was quiet at first, both of them a little awkward in the silence, punctuated only by the clinking of silverware. But as the night wore on and the bottles of wine disappeared, the atmosphere shifted. Sang-Woo, usually so composed, started to loosen up, his smile a little wider, his laugh a little louder. The alcohol was working its magic on both of them, and soon they were teasing each other like old friends.

By the time the last bottle was nearly empty, the air between them was thick with something unspoken, a mixture of flirtation and the hazy warmth from the drinks. Their conversation slowed, but their glances lingered longer, and before either of them realized it, they were both a little tipsy, swaying slightly on their feet.

The evening seemed to blur after that. They were still talking, but the words felt softer, less meaningful, as if they were both caught in the fog of their own desires. One moment, they were laughing over a silly comment, and the next, they were kissing. Sang-Woo’s lips were warm, insistent, and the taste of wine lingered between them, fueling whatever impulse had overtaken them both.

It didn’t take long before they were both tangled up in the sheets, the events of the night felt like an inevitable crash after too much buildup.

—

The room is dim, lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. His body is warm against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest matching the slow rhythm of your own breathing. It feels comfortable, not chaotic, like you’re both letting the world fall away for a while.

But you know, deep down, this is only temporary. Sang-Woo’s presence is grounding, but always fleeting. His mind races, like always, and you can feel it in the way his fingers brush against your skin but never linger, in the way his eyes flicker toward you only to look away just as quickly.

It’s a kind of tension you’re used to, but tonight, it’s different. It’s not the heat of passion; it’s a quiet pull, like a fire that hasn’t yet burned out, just waiting for the right moment to ignite again.

You let your eyes flutter shut, just for a moment, letting yourself pretend that there’s something real here—something deeper than the uncertainty that always looms between you.

But then, as you start to relax into that thought, he breaks the silence with the kind of words that cut through the fragile peace.

“You should go,” he says, his voice low, almost clinical. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm, either. Just a fact.

You freeze, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. His arm doesn’t move, but the space between you suddenly feels vast, and the weight of his words presses down on you. You feel the distance grow between you in ways that make your throat tighten.

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t move, but you can sense the shift in him. The walls he’s built, the distance he’s keeping.

You want to say something, to argue, but all you can manage is a breathless, “You don’t mean that.”

He doesn’t answer right away. The silence stretches on, and you can feel him shift, like he’s considering something. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s not that I want you to leave,” he says, his words slow, measured. “It’s just… I don’t know what this is. What any of this means.”

You don’t respond because you know exactly what he means. There’s a hesitation in his words, a rare uncertainty. Sang-Woo is always decisive, always certain. But tonight, he’s not.

And yet, despite the pull to leave, despite his words, his arm tightens slightly around you, his fingers brushing against your side, the briefest contact. It’s enough to confuse you—enough to make you wonder if he’s torn between pushing you away and pulling you closer.

You take a deep breath, and before you can second-guess yourself, you shift closer to him. You press your chest to his, feeling the warmth of him seep into your skin. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t pull you in either. His arm stays around you, but it’s a quiet, reluctant tether.

His eyes meet yours, and for the briefest of moments, the walls he’s so carefully built seem to falter. It’s only a breath, but it’s enough.

“I’m not leaving,” you whisper, your voice firmer now, even though you know he could push you away at any moment. But tonight, for reasons you can’t quite understand, he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets out a quiet exhale, a sound that’s almost resigned, and shifts beneath you, pulling you in just a little closer. You let the quiet settle between you, neither of you speaking, both of you avoiding the truth of what this might be.

And then, after a few breaths, his voice breaks the silence. “Fine,” he says, still firm but with something softer underneath. “But you’re leaving this bed in the morning.”

#sang woo squid game #squid game #squid game season 1 #squid game fic #squid game x reader #squid game x you #sang woo #cho sang woo #player 218 #sang woo x reader #sang woo x you #sang woo x y/n #cho sang woo x reader #cho sang woo x you #cho sang woo x y/n #player 218 x reader #player 218 x you #player 218 x y/n #dividers by fairytopea / credit in tags if used

37 notes · View notes

interlunium-opus · 2 years ago

Text

►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #003 [Sunghoon.]

Previous Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002

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

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

— i

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give it back,” you demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Park Sunghoon’s.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Park Sunghoon all along.

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

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

— ii

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— iii

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, want me dead, you thought to yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

“Evening beautiful.”

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

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

“No shift tonight?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n!”

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

“y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— iv

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except not really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— v.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— vi.

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

But that isn’t possible, is it?

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

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

“Hey, can I sit here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But troubles soon brew within your own circle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My blood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— vii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it all went to black.

— viii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“not in your lifetime,” he quipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then lend me your clothes.”

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

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

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

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

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

You glared at him, speechless now.

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

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

“I’m not hungry–" you retorted.

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

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

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

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

“You can’t force me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re very distrustful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it Jungwon?”

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

“So you covered the murders?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed, “then explain the kisses.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had forever.

— ix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— x.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— xi.

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

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

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

“Want me to take you away?”

You jumped, your train of thoughts came crashing.

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

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

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

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

“Then why are you here?”

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

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

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

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

“that’s not for you to dictate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know me, what I want, I get.”

Heeseung's words rang in your mind deafeningly again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should be elated that the bane of your existence was now gone, probably for eternity, but a tear soon rolled down your cheeks. Though you couldn��t tell, nor do you want to, if it was simply out of guilt, sadness or regret.

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

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

577 notes · View notes