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#moral of the story: therapy works
lovecolibri · 2 years
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Buck talking about his gf: I...I lo-*gags* ....I love....*deep breath* Taylor 😖🤷‍♂️😣
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a tweet by @JUNlPER on twitter saying: ''the same person who leaked the no fly list published email communications of conservatives intentional efforts to ramp up their anti-LGBTQ hate. as was incredibly obvious, the moral panic is intentional and planned out''
followed by a screenshot of the hacker website, named maia with the text:
this file ("Deutsch emails") contains the complete source of email threads for the 2023-03-08 Mother Jones story “Inside the Secret Working Group That Helped Push Anti-Trans Laws Across the Country”. the emails are comprised of communications spanning 2019-2021 principally regarding an attempt to pass a trans youth transition treatment ban in south dakota in 2019, spearheaded by republican rep. fred deutsch and sen. lee schoenbeck.
there are extensive discussions between deutsch and notorious anti-gay and anti-trans “experts” associated with known hate groups targeting transgender healthcare in the united states, including dr. quentin l. van meter and dr. michelle cretella of the catholic medical association, dr. andre van mol of the christian medical & dental associations and american college of pediatricians, dr. michael k. laidlaw of the kelsey coalition, dr. william j. malone of the society for evidence-based gender medicine, dr. paul w. hruz of the national catholic bioethics center, laura haynes of narth, and deacon dr. patrick w. lappert of catholic reparative therapy group courage international. participants discuss crafting their language to avoid acknowledging that transgender people exist, constructing new ways to define doctors as criminals for providing gender-affirming care, and targeting a federal agency publication that correctly points out the dangers of anti-gay conversion therapy. their emails frequently digress into personal vendettas and ambitions of destroying established professional groups such as the endocrine society, and they typically celebrate their anti-trans legal and political achievements as a victory of the christian god.
the emails describe a wider national effort against transition treatment for minors, which included discussions with idaho rep. julianne young and sen. steve vick, georgia rep. ginny earhart, and florida rep. anthony sabatini. several anti-lgbt conservative legal groups are intimately involved in the discussion, including alliance defending freedom, adf-affiliated detransitioners hacsi horvath and walt heyer, eunie smith of eagle forum, adf-linked attorney vernadette r. broyles of the child & parental rights campaign, jane robbins of the american principles project, kara dansky and natasha chart of women’s liberation front, richard mast of liberty counsel, and emily zinos of minnesota family council and hands across the aisle. more recently, the transphobia-captured state of alabama harassed the endocrine society and wpath with subpoenas for their internal communications regarding hate groups and individuals participating in the deutsch emails, including segm, the american college of pediatricians, michael laidlaw, william malone, andre van mol, michelle cretella, and quentin van meter. the release of the deutsch emails is in the public interest and brings an equivalent level of transparency to the internal work of these major anti-trans advocacy and lobbying groups.
CLARIFICATION: i, maia, am not the source of this email leak, merely a publisher, since i feel that this should be more widely available than just to selected journalists''
and finally a link to maia website with the emails
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notherpuppet · 1 month
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I know they’re probably not going to go into this (which i understand, there’s only so much time in an episode and they’re telling a different story) but I think about Al’s background a LOT. Get ready if ur in the mood for a read.
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To be a mixed Black person in America is a…bizarre experience. You come to realize that due to the coincidence of your genetic makeup, white folks may divulge information that they keep so closely guarded from the ears of “more obvious-looking” black folks. Im gonna bring it back to Alastor, but lemme give some personal context. I’m mixed with Filipino, so I’m pretty obviously not white, yet my ambiguous ethnic makeup in a predominantly white suburbia seemed to make white peers and people feel much more at ease in relaying their criticisms or prejudices of black people to me. I would hear someone feel comfy enough to spew vitriolic racist shit with me, then toe the line like a circus acrobat when around someone a few shades darker in skin tone and a few coils curlier in hair texture. It was constantly infuriating and holding my tongue was a practice to both investigate someone’s true nature and preserve my own safety. I did abandon that method of navigating life in America, and experienced the switch-up white folks made when I started ‘broadcasting’ my blackness. (E.G. beyonce pre vs. post Lemonade). The criticisms and prejudice confessions just came less often, til I saw them being caged up completely after white peers experienced backlash from me. After they realized “OH this bitch is a n*****!?”
Now this is from someone who is brown, but i also wanna talk about my white-passing cousin with a similar racial makeup as Al, who is from the south and oh BOY. (Let’s call him J for this post’s purposes). J’s navigation though simple daily life is such a constant contradictory experience, of which he is still working through in therapy. I think of one moment when he was manager at retail gig and his boss told him that whenever a Black customer enters, it’s policy to give them “exceptionally attentive customer service”. Essentially, “follow that n***** around”. This is just one modern incident of when J would hear the quiet part out loud, despite his Blackness, because his appearance was white enough to make white folks drop their guard. Eventually, my cousin and I took to the same direction where we used our advantage of disarming white folks against them when the time came. We would keep note and record of racism and unlock a sort of “this you?” when the opportunity to expose that person’s true nature came. It’s pretty vengeful thinking ngl, but it is really REALLY hard to resist exposing an asshole rather than attempting to teach an asshole to change their ways. Especially given that such an attempt is an ARDUOUS uphill battle. The experience of KNOWING the truth about what someone thinks of your people, and being opened to opportunities and information that you would not have access to if the chance of your genetics was only slightly different is bIZARRE, horrific, and fuel for constant inner turmoil. (It sucks y’all)
Now back to Alastor; to have been a mixed person in the Deep South in 1930s America—it’s not too difficult for me to imagine how traumatic and convoluted that experience must have been. Especially when legally and socially, things were so much more Black and White. And when you’re on the line in between that, when society does not prepare a place for your existence, it can be SO isolating. You may consider the absurdity of such an arbitrary method of determining class, status, and/or caste much earlier in life than peers, which only further isolates you. You hold a resentment of society now that you know exactly how the other side is operating to ensure your oppression.
And then I think of Al’s weird ass moral code. How he arrived in Hell and (according to Mimzy) began killing overlords with reckless abandon. This is someone who likely had to develop the cunning to navigate 1930s Deep South America as a mixed, murdering, psychopath without getting caught by authorities who are already gunning for you. And now he is in Hell where the rules of society have gone up in smoke and he can fully embrace his rage, resentment, and vengeance. A desire to burn down the powerful people of the world can be accommodated and ANY previous inhibitions can finally be released. The morality of rising above someone by cutting them down (instead of developing emotional/spiritual healing) has become the easier and satisfying option. Finally the opportunity to show the power-secure villains of the world how easily you can tear them down when nothing is holding you back any longer.
TLDR; The trauma of racism in America is pretty sufficient cannon fodder for a severe psychotic break, the development of socially debilitating behaviors and isolation, and a quest for profound vengeance. So maybe that can explain some of the enigma that is Alastor.
And this is just ONE facet of Al. I didn’t even get to bring up the isolation that comes with being an aroace nonbeliever in the 1930s Deep South. Like FUCK. I’m a mixed, aroace nonbeliever from a modern day conservative town and yall….what a weird experience for sure lol but anyway lemme get back to my life. Whole point of this was—-WHAT AN INTERESTING FUCKEN CHARACTER TO THINK ABOUT
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just-antithings · 2 months
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Anti-ism is psuedoscience and a moral panic rolled into one
One of the most dangerous things about therapyspeak leaving the intended audience is that now antis feel fully qualified to tell survivors how they should and should not be coping, even to the point of attempting to override/contradict the advice of certified therapists.
I've had antis tell me the fiction I enjoy writing is retraumatizing myself, that I am doing harm by writing it; when I responded that actually, my therapist signed off on the stories I wrote (even when I mentioned the specific phrase "consensual nonconsent"), they said that my therapist doesn't know what she's talking about since she sanctioned my coping mechanism and explicitly labels her practice as kink-positive. Antis are attempting to make me, a survivor with mental illness that could ultimately be fatal if I leave a psychologist's care, disregard the advice of the medical professional supervising me when they have no certification at all. This could, if I were a more vulnerable person, be dangerous for not only my trust in my therapist, but it could sabotage my treatment as well.
They are using what amounts to little more than memes, based on misinformation, that use a few intelligent-sounding phrases that very rarely apply the way they think they do, as a wedge to attempt to assert themselves as authorities who can, with certainty, dictate the appropriate course of treatment for a total stranger, including telling them to disregard the therapies administered by a trained professional.
In other words? Antis are frighteningly similar to anti-vaxxers, who took medical terminology they didn't understand, applied it to shaky cause-effect logic models, started a moral panic, used statements generated by that moral panic as a citogenesis-fueled proof their initial starting of the moral panic was justified, damaged the doctor-patient relationship of millions of total strangers, jeopardized the healthcare of those strangers who now believed their doctor to be incompetent for following accepted medical best practice, and fomented dangerous fringe political ideologies that coupled themselves to other conspiracies based on rejecting commonly-acknowledged practices.
"Vaccines cause autism! Narrative therapy that implements any form of controversial kink causes retraumatization of the writer, reader, or both, and starts the writer on an inescapable slippery slope to becoming an abuser themself! It's better to be dead than autistic! It's better to suffer feelings of shame and/or isolation in silence than it is to use fiction to put a voice to your feelings! Your child is vaccine-damaged from thimerosal and is getting sick from virus-shedding! Your fiction caused me to groom myself and you're a porn-addicted monster for not facing your trauma the proper way! Your doctor doesn't know what's good for you, I do! Only I understand how your body/mind work and what treatment is appropriate for you! Your doctor has been manipulated by Big Pharma/kink supporters! The empirical-study-informed best practices for pediatrics/psychology are what's wrong, not me, whose research is carefully informed by TikTok videos and Twitter posts carefully formulated to cause amygdalar growth to keep me afraid so I will continue to engage with fear-mongering content that causes my politics to shift towards the alt-right, who coincidentally also push narratives based in fear, not in medicine! I am being perfectly logical here!"
Antis fundamentally reject empirical medicine just the way anti-vaxxers do. They just seem to get a free pass on it since it's "only" mental healthcare they are sabotaging, and few people acknowledge it as something as legitimate and lifesaving as other medical care.
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gyupinkys · 3 months
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LIKE CRAZY
PARK SEONGHWA X READER
WC: 7.4K
WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...
Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat
A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3
You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.
“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”
“I’ll be right there.” 
You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa. 
“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance. 
“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.
His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well. 
“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”
“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth. 
“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.
You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over. 
_________________________
You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky.  For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets.  As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.   
_________________________
He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome  him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes. 
“Hello, Seonghwa.” 
“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him. 
“How are you adjusting?”
He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor. 
“Can you look at me?”
He shakes his head no. 
“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”
He keeps quiet so you continue. 
“Tell me, do you like the food here?” 
No response. 
“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable. 
“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”
He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.
“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh. 
His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking. 
“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”
“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong. 
“Are you ok?” 
“I’m fine. Start talking.” 
“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”
“I could pay it off,” he says seriously. 
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”
“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.” 
“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.” 
“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.
“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”
“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back. 
“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.
You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass. 
“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax. 
“What’s your cat's name?”  
“Matz.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.” 
“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.
He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”
“Kim, his last name is Kim.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria. 
He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said. 
“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs. 
“Did he say anything else?”
“He said,  “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”
“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him. 
“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa. 
“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”
“Call me Hwa.” he smiles. 
_________________________
Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before. 
“Who is this?” he asks with venom.
“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”
“Why?”
“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”
He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San. 
“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”
“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.
“San, don’t start.”
“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”
“I will write you up.” you deadpan. 
He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous. 
“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”
“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.
“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.
“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested. 
“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?” 
Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa. 
“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes. 
“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body. 
“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session,  trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago.  He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.
“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.
“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”
“I do.”
“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.
He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.” 
“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh. 
“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”
“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.
“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.
You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat. 
“Ok, go ahead.”
“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.
“How about I just write things I do like? ”
“Deal”
You write three things you like:
Chicken tenders 
The sunlight
Seonghwa
“Ok, you share first.” 
He clears his throat. 
“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”
Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up. 
You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name. 
“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.
“Oh baby, it already did.”
Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell. 
“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”
“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”
You choke on the sip of water you were taking. 
“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”
“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset. 
“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed. 
He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room. 
“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.
You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All  Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”
You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak. 
As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation. 
_________________________
When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.
You open it and pull out a letter.
“My dear Y/N, 
I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.
-Hwa”
Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room. 
You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok?  You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.
“Hwa, can I come in?”
You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”
You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long. 
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No.”
“I’ll come back later.” 
“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.
“Turn around.”
As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself. 
“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.
“No, this is wrong.”
“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”
“I-”
“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”
You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”
Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you. 
“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him. 
He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”
His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”
“Yea.”
“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”
“Hwa” 
“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.
“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”
“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”
“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”
You freeze, but he continues. 
“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”
You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come. 
“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”
“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”
You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time. 
“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up. 
He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face. 
“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”
_________________________
You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside. 
“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes. 
“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.
“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath. 
“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”
“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.
“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.
“Come again?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.
“Chris, just leave.”
“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”
You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset. 
“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight. 
“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip. 
“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him. 
“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.
“GET OFF OF ME.”
“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “
You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.
You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you. 
“Sweetheart, I’m-”
“Get out before I call the cops.”
He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.
_________________________
You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make
You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.
He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong. 
“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down. 
“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice. 
“He was drunk.” 
“That's not an excuse.”
“I know.” you sigh.
“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits. 
“Hwa, don’t say that.”
“I want to leave.”
You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight. 
He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys. 
“Excuse me.” 
Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own. 
“Yes?”
“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”
“Yea sure.” 
Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor. 
“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him. 
Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart. 
“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body. 
When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot. 
He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever. 
He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone. 
He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened. 
_________________________
 You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.
Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening. 
“Hwa? Why are you here?”
“I needed to see you.”
“Where are the guards?”
“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.
“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”
“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk. 
“Why did you need to see me?”
“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”
“It's ok, don’t worry.”
“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”
You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around. 
“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.
“Let me eat you out.”
Your eyes widen. 
“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Why?
“You know why.”
“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.
“What if someone sees?”
“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”
Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.
“What do you say, Sweet girl?”
You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath. 
“Just like I imagined.”
He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer. 
“Please don’t tease”  you whisper.
He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.
“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”
He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside. 
“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”
“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”
“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need. 
Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping. 
You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath. 
“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.
“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.
“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck. 
“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”
“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place. 
“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.
“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.  
“So when am I going to see you instead?”
“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.
“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”
“You too, Hwa.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t. 
He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.
He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears. 
“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”
“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”
He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.
_________________________
The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance,  you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.   
“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him. 
He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot. 
“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you. 
“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.
“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.
“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”
“No.” you answer with full confidence.
He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is. 
"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”
“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck. 
“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach. 
“Say you love me too. I know you do.”
Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”
He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”
He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.
“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.
He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”
“Yes, Hwa. Please.”
He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation. 
“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of  how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly. 
“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”
He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes. 
“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”
He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together. 
“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”
You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever. 
“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”
You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.
“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet. 
“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down. 
He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you. 
“Hwa, where are you taking me?”
“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”
“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.
“Tell me what's going on.”
“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”
His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”
The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him. 
“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”
He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “
“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.” 
He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold. 
“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.
He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.” 
He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.
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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year
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Batmom with Scarlet Witch Powers HC
Batfam x reader
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-Batmom with Scarlet Witch abilities is just here to entertain the boys and scare the living hell out of the Gotham rouges
• 9 year old Dick asking that you make Dumbo with your powers-
• Tim wants to fly so you let him fly
• Jason just wants to see cool red sparkly magic
• Damian doesn’t take interest to your powers at first but later he was more into the history of the magic and why on earth it exists
• Batmom with scarlet witch powers pertains wiping away bad dreams at three in the morning because you can’t stand to see your boys with tears in their eyes and sweat down their forehead
• The hyper proactive mode of batmom is only enhanced with the powers
• Bruce isn’t really a powers around the house kinda guy but use them on patrol to save some time and he’s secretly thanking you
• When Jason died you went after Joker and ripped him apart
• That man was screaming bloody murder in Arkham for weeks and weeks on end
• You never told Bruce what you made Joker see but Harley comes to you sometimes to ask if you’ll threaten Joker if he’s being mean to her
• He pees his pants- like literally goes into fear flight mode
• Bruce doesn’t bother asking what you did to him cause whatever it was works enough
• Scarecrow messes with your boys long enough and you put him into psychosis for a little while
• That whole reality manipulation gig works really well
• Batmom interrogations are rare and far between due to this
• Either way the boys think that it’s awesome
• They like to hear stories about when you were just discovering your powers
• At first you didn’t think that they were all that but when you had the proper training to seek out their true capabilities the shenanigans started
• You probably team up with Justice League Dark a lot since your powers are extremely useful
• Cue random visits from Constantine and Zatanna , possibly the occasional from a spirit
• All of the Gotham rouges are straight terrified of you which works well to your advantage
• When the newbies from outer-space come at earth and try to invade you’re called in to send them running back with tails between their legs
• Your powers also work really well when pertaining to the therapy of civilians and those around you
• Going back and figuring out where everything went wrong with the reality thing and working through all of the trauma through a safer space really increases the morale of everyone
- helping freeze with the loss of his wife -helping Clayface work through his complex wants for revenge
-calming down Grundy when he’s rampaging
• The definition of chaotic neutral
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sophsicle · 3 months
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not to be obnoxious. but i really like the jily in choices. and now you're thinking, bitch i should hope so, you wrote it. WHICH, yeah, fair point. but, it's super overwhelming to receive a lot of negative feedback on something, especially when that negative feedback is like "you're a morally corrupt person writing horribly morally corrupt characters blah blah blah die" y'know? so like, there are a lot of parts of that story that, in my head, have been a bit warped, by having people repeatedly tell me how awful they are. but sometimes i'll read bits of it and im like "wait. no. this is actually good (grammar mistakes aside - im sorry, i know it's bad, i had school and work and my brain was clearly mush or something idk)." like. chapter 55 jily. i just love it. i love when lily tells james he's putting on an act in therapy. i love when she tells him that now, when she looks back, all these memories she thought were about them, have regulus's fingerprints all over them. and he tells her he thinks regulus felt the same way and that he's sorry. because he never wanted either of them to feel like they meant less than everything to him. because they never meant less than everything. i like when she tells james that regulus wasn't a good person. and when james says "i know. but he wanted to be, and doesn't that matter?" and lily thinks it probably doesn't but regulus is dead and so she lets him have that. LIKE i just. yeah it's fucking messy. and it will never not be messy. nothing about their relationship will ever be simple. but i love that. like i love that so much. and i've had people tell me they think it was a copout, having james love them both. but i just, i disagree. james being torn apart by how much he loves people. like that's it. that's the story i want to tell. that's the character i want to write. ANYWAY. there's not really a point to this other than like, sometimes i forget that i really like choices a lot. that i wrote it for myself and i wrote the characters and the relationships that i wanted. and that it isn't some horrible ugly terrible thing that should be hidden from innocent eyes and like, stuffed in a cannon and fired into the sun, y'knowwwww?????
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endlessthxxghts · 3 months
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Routine
Frankie Morales x coffee shop worker!afab!reader || W/C: ≈7.9k
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Summary: Frankie makes a new routine for himself to help with his mental health. In that routine, Frankie stumbles upon you.
Content/Warnings: POV switching - stops towards the end, then POVs are combined. Friends to lovers. Slightly scared and reluctant friends to lovers. Slow burn. Canon divergent to Frankie's Triple Frontier storyline (No history of lady or child for Frankie). Brief mentions of South America and Frankie's mental health. Brief therapy talk. Overthinking!Frankie, but Reader comforts and reassures him. He’s not insecure the entire time, promise lolol. Hints of angst, but this is me we’re talking about — always will be a happy ending here🫶. No physical description of reader besides coffee shop uniform (no size descriptions used) - any descriptions are neutral, no adjectives to describe (purely things like "your thigh" etc.). No use of "y/n". SMUT 18+ MDNI (making out, cunnilingus + fingering, unprotected P in V sex + cumming inside, breast worship/titty sucking). If there's anything that should be up here, please do not hesitate to let me know!
A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and happy days, everyone! This Christmas season, I was apart of @pedrostories' 2023 Secret Santa event where we gift some type of creation to another fellow Pedro-related blog on here. I'm honored to have created this story for the lovely @alwaysbethewest ! I'm a huge sucker for a soft man, so in reading the prompt you gave, I just had to write for good ol' Francisco Morales—the sweetest of the bunch. This story was so cute and sexy to write, I'm so excited to see what you think. I truly hope you enjoy!
MASTERLIST
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Frankie
You need to create a routine.
One that takes you out of your house.
Out of your comfort zone.
These words rang in Frankie’s ear as he allowed his feet to make decisions for him today. Ever since South America, Frankie has been struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy again. He rarely leaves his house unless it’s for groceries or work — or as of the last few months, unless it’s for therapy.
Frankie’s therapist noticed he was falling back into his old habits, his old mannerisms; and in being prompted about what his day-to-day looked like outside of therapy, Frankie was met with those three phrases. 
“You need to create a routine.”
“I have one,” Frankie says defensively. 
“One that takes you out of your house.”
“I do,” he says. “Work. The store.” 
“And out of your comfort zone.”
Frankie scoffs. As soon as he thinks of a quip, his therapist’s watch beeps. Saved by the bell. 
Frankie rises, getting ready to leave the room. His therapist leaves him with a new assignment. “Clear your schedule. You’re doing nothing but spontaneous decisions tomorrow.”
He takes a breath to calm his frustration. “How will you even know if I’ve done it?” Frankie asks. 
“I’ll know.”
“And if I lie?”
“I’ll know,” his therapist reassures. 
Which is why he finds himself in the early afternoon at a coffee shop, during what looks like to be its busiest hours of the day. Shit. 
He enters the line as he scans the menu on the wall, the line being long enough he’s sure he’ll make a decision by the time he gets to the register. He usually gets straight black coffee, but taking his therapist’s word a little too seriously, he opts for something else. 
Hazelnut? No. Mocha? No. Vanilla? No. Fuck, okay, this is harder than it looks.
He scans the tinier board off to the side for today’s special: an horchata latte, either iced or hot. Horchata? He can absolutely get by that. The guy at the register takes the order of the customer in front of him, and the same guy switches off and begins to make the customer’s drink. Waiting to be helped, Frankie reaches into his pocket to get his wallet ready, but still angsty from the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, his grip fumbles and he drops it. 
He bends down to go pick it up, and as he stands back up, he’s immediately met by the most heartstopping view. You, with a brown apron, a hand-drawn name tag, and powdered sugar adorning your cheek. The smile on your face as you greet him causes his brain to short circuit. 
“Hi! How can I help you today?” you beam at him, completely unaware of the cuteness radiating off of you, melting his anxieties made of wasps and transforming them into the shape of flapping butterflies all throughout his tummy. 
“I- um, hi- yeah, I’d, um-” he stumbles on his words. You smile at him, nodding your head patiently and understanding. “Shit, sorry-” he laughs nervously. 
“You’re okay,” you giggle, slightly intrigued at the flushed state of the man before you. “This your first time here? We’ve got a lot of options, it can be very nerve wracking picking from our menu,” you comfort, probably assuming it’s the first-time jitters taking away his ability to speak. 
“Oh, uh- yeah, it’s my first time here,” Frankie confirms. “But actually, I had my mind set on today’s special? The horchata latte?” 
Your face lights up like a million suns, and his heart feels like it’ll burst any second now. “Oh my gosh, really?!” you squeal. “That’s my creation we’ve highlighted today,” you say excitedly, “and you’re actually the first to order it!” You ring up his total, Frankie handing you his card to swipe in the machine. “Hot or iced?” 
“What do you think?”
You study him for a moment. “Personally, I like iced because horchata in itself is already so refreshing, so it adds to that. But you seem like you’d prefer it hot, which is also objectively just as good.”
“Wow,” Frankie says with a smile.
“Was I accurate?” 
“Right on the nail,” he confirms. 
“Your name?” you ask, reaching for a cup.
“My name?” He asks, confused.
You gesture to the cup with a smirk. “For your order?”
“Oh,” he says. You catch the blush that falls on his cheeks. “Frankie,” he tells you, his hand shooting to the back of his neck to soothe his awkwardness.
“Well, Frankie,” you say after writing his name. “I’ll need an honest review after,” you smile at him as you turn away, signaling for someone else to take register so you can be the one to make his drink. 
He can’t help the cheesy smile that forms across his face at the prospect of getting to speak with you again. He turns around and searches for an open table. 
He sat on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for his name to be called when someone clears their throat in front of him. He looks up to see you, powdered sugar still kissing your cheek and two drinks — one iced and one hot — in your hands with that smile he’s slowly becoming addicted to. 
“Didn’t know you guys do table service?” Frankie asks, in a joking manner but truly he’s curious.
“We don’t,” you smile smugly as you place his cup in front of him. “Told you I needed my review.”
He smiles at you, then reaches for a napkin and lifts his hand towards you as you sit in the seat across from him. He gestures to your cheek. “May I?” You go pale. “Oh, God, don’t tell me I’ve had shit on my face this entire time?” 
“Okay, then I won’t,” he offers gently. You lean closer into his hand, giving him the green light. He wipes the powdered sugar from your cheek, his face in concentration mode as he makes sure to wipe it all off. He feels you staring, his face heating up the longer your eyes are on him, but he doesn’t break. 
“There,” he whispers, “the shit is gone.” Your faces are still inches from each other. 
“Thought you weren’t gonna say anything?” you whisper back. 
He breaks the proximity first, clearing his throat to steady himself. He doesn’t reply to your remark. Instead, he grabs the coffee and brings it up to his lips. “Let’s see what this is all about, yeah?” The second the hot liquid touches his tongue, he knows his days of black coffee are over. It’s creamy, the perfect amount of cinnamon, a perfectly pulled espresso shot that highlights the natural nutty undertones — it’s fucking perfect, and he tells you exactly that. 
“Guess now you’ve got an excuse to come back,” you tell him. 
“I think I had an excuse before that,” Frankie quickly lets out before taking another heady sip, referring to the beautiful human sitting past him. 
You lean back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest, something akin to trouble written across your face. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I guess you did.” 
He’s experienced enough to know when someone is flirting with him. He’s experienced enough to notice a mutual attraction. Yet, there’s something so bold, so intoxicating about you that you’ve thrown him off balance. Whether you’re just a naturally friendly, bold person, or you’ve actually taken an interest in him, there’s no way he’s going away now. You’ve got him hooked. 
You need to create a routine, he was told, and creating a routine is exactly what he’s going to do. 
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It’s been six months since his first visit, and in those six months, he’s had the opportunity to really get to know you. 
In the first month, he visited twice a week, once during the weekdays and once on the weekends. He made sure to time it on what he noticed to be your shift, and he also timed it for right when you were about to take your break. Catching on pretty quickly, you offer him a bit of reassurance. 
“My schedule is the most consistent out of all of my coworkers, by the way,” you say, sipping on your iced mocha. 
His ears perk up. “Yeah? Why’s that?” 
“Been here the longest, so the owners let me play around with my schedule and pick up shifts that I want to,” you tell him. “But my therapist a few years ago told me to set a routine for myself, so-”
Frankie chokes on his coffee with a laugh. 
“Oh my god,” you giggle, “you okay?” you ask him, leaning forward to pat on his back. 
Frankie’s breath falters at the contact. “Y-yeah, I’m good,” he pulls away from your embrace out of nervousness. If you notice, you don’t mention it. “Just threw me off a little.”
“Why? What’d I say?” you reply. 
“No, it’s nothing, it’s just,” he sets his coffee down. “A month ago, I had a therapy session, and my therapist told me the exact same thing. They literally told me I needed to create a routine for myself,” he says. 
“Oh,” you say with a straight face. Your face goes unreadable for a second, and he feels like he fucked something up. “So is that why you’ve been harassing me for weeks on end?”
Frankie looks like he’s just seen a ghost, pale and flushed at the same time, his ability to form any kind of words rendered impossible. “I- no, I-”
In his state of panic, he’s looking everywhere except you. He feels your hands wrap around his, and you’re leaning closer to him, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Frankie, I’m joking,” you coo. You can see his jaw unclench as he searches your eyes for any signs of discomfort from him. Nothing. There’s something there as he holds your stare, but nothing tells him you don’t want him here. A shy smile forms on his face, and the bashful blush on his cheeks return. He knows you notice it, but still, you don’t mention it. 
“For what it’s worth,” you speak again. “I enjoy having you in my routine, too,” his own giddy demeanor reflecting back at him through you. There goes the butterflies again. 
Five months in, and he’s coming into the shop everyday. He doesn’t always get coffee, but mostly, he’s there to see you. Sometimes you’re way too busy to take a break any time soon, so he’ll slip in, give you a little wave hello, accept your sweet smile in return, and he’ll slip out. 
“Gonna actually get something today, Morales?” 
A few visits ago on your break, you ask him if his name is short for anything, and quickly add in that if Frankie is what he prefers, you don’t care to know anything else. His heart melts at the sentiment, at how understanding and gentle of a human you are. Not only to him, but to everyone who has the privilege to interact with you. 
Francisco Morales, he tells you. Francisco, Frankie, Frank, you can call me whatever you want. This time, he thinks he catches the heat creeping on your face, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 
“Morales, huh? And what do you mean actually?”
“I’m not dumb, Frankie,” you smirk. “I know you don’t get anything a few of the times you stop by.” 
He swears his heart falls out of his ass. He thought you’d be too busy to even notice. As a former special op, he thought he would have been more slick about it. 
He scans the menu above you, as if he hasn’t studied it a thousand times over, just to get out of your piercing gaze. “Just tryna keep the routine, is all,” he retorts. 
“The routine, huh?” you smile at him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, along with that same something he can’t quite identify — it makes his chest swell. “Your favorite is back on the menu, by the way.” 
Frankie turns to the special board: horchata latte. Smiling to himself before he responds, “I’ll have that, then,” he says, reaching for his card. “You going on your break now?” he asks. 
“Yes,” you reply, “and coffee is on me today.”
His eyebrow quirks up at you. “Please?” you tell him with the world’s worst (more like cutest) puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. How the hell can he say no to you now?
“Fine,” he deadpans. 
You squeal in excitement. You shoo him away to go find a seat, and you’re at his side within moments, two hot cups in your hands. 
He looks quizzically at the other cup. “I don’t know, I’m just feeling like a hot cup today,” you shrug. “What can I say, you’ve influenced me,” you giggle, not realizing just how much that statement affects Frankie’s crushing little heart. God, you’re beautiful, he can’t help but think as you curl up as best you can in your chair while you sip on your coffee. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way about you. One, you’re practically his best friend at this point, and two, you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like him. 
“So,” you say, pulling him from his thoughts. 
“So,” he repeats. 
“I was actually thinking of taking this weekend off,” you tell him. 
His face falls a little, but he’s quick to fix it before you notice — hopefully. “Oh, is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Nothing bad,” you reassure him. “I just think I need a little weekend to myself before the busy holiday season really starts.” 
“That’s understandable,” Frankie replies. 
“Yeah,” you say softly. “But…” you trail off. 
“Buuuut?” He drags the word out for dramatic effect, sensing your nervousness and wanting to help calm you. 
You giggle at his antics. “But I don’t wanna break our routine,” you say quietly. A little oh escapes his mouth. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to hang out, maybe? On Saturday? Or even Sunday? Whatever works for you… and you can obviously say no, don’t feel obligated-” 
It’s always been you cutting him off from his overthinking and comforting him, and now it’s his turn. He leans forward, wrapping his hands around yours as they hug your coffee cup. He gives you a little squeeze and calls your name gently. “I would love to.”
“Okay,” you say sweetly. “Wanna do a movie night?”
“Anything you want,” he tells you.
It’s surprising he didn’t have your phone number until five months in. Though, come to think of it, he’s seen you practically everyday since he met you. And there was no need to communicate beyond that. Right? 
Shaking his head to clear him from his thoughts, he copies your address from your guys’ text thread and pastes it into his maps. It takes him five minutes to get to your place, and as soon as he gets to your front door, you’re already opening before he has a chance to knock. 
“Oh! Frankie, hi,” you gasp delightedly. “Perfect timing,” you laugh. “I was just gonna grab the groceries out of my car. Go inside, make yourself at home.”
“Hi,” he smiles, “I can help with the groceries?”
“Oh, that’s okay, it’s just one bag. Give me one second,” you say walking to your car. 
He waits for you as you grab the bag, both of you walking back inside together. “So I’m terrible at picking a movie, and if I didn’t narrow down our options, I feel like we’d be here all night deciding.”
“What do ya got for me?” he smiles as he makes his way to your couch, purely just enjoying being in your presence regardless of the movie you both decide to put on. 
“Alright, since we’re nearing Christmas, I have a few holiday options, and then a few general of my favorites — Elf, The Grinch, or Home Alone; or we can do my personal favorite, but I promise I’m good with whatever you choose, Labyrinth, Paddington 1 or 2-”
Frankie’s eyes light up at the latter option, and you immediately catch on. “Okay, so I’m guessing one of the Paddington’s?” you say with a snort. 
He grimaces. “Was it that obvious?” 
“Frankie, you literally looked at me like I am your entire world,” you laugh. “Yes, it was that obvious.”
“I mean, it’s not any different than how I usually look at you,” Frankie says without thinking. Immediately his hand is on his mouth. 
He sees the shock on your face for a millisecond before you’re back to your usual cool and collected self. How the fuck do you do that? “Okay but which Paddington? There’s only one right answer, here.” 
Although his heart is still beating through his damn chest, the question puts him back on track. “Paddington 2, duh,” he says without missing a beat, he rolls his eyes as he playfully scoffs at you. 
“Good answer,” you say sternly but with a smile. You set up your TV onto Paddington 2 and then quickly run to the kitchen to grab the popcorn you made. You set the bowl on your coffee table, turning back to grab something to drink. “What’s your drink of choice? I’ve got water, tea, soda — I can whip up a coffee for you, too, if you’d like,” you yell to him. 
“Hmm, enticing, but I’m okay with water for now, though, thank you.”
You return back to your living room, scanning the table making sure you don’t need anything else. You ask Frankie if he does. 
“Just you,” Frankie says, again, not thinking before he speaks. God damn it, Francisco, get it together. 
You smirk at him, he sees your eyes tracing the red across his cheeks. Christ. “You’ve had me for a while, Morales,” you say under your breath, softly but still loud enough for him to hear. Your words genuinely cause his heart to skip a beat. You settle onto the couch beside him, ignoring his shocked face. “Ready to watch?” hints of your smugness still there. 
“Y-yeah, ready,” he stutters.
Six months. It’s been six months since he met you and his old self would never have expected his day to day to look like this. He’s got a usual stop at your work—always on his lunch since you start later—sometimes getting coffee and other times your smile is all that he needs to feel energized for the day. 
You
And on the weekends, you two share a movie night—your version of recharging for your next work week. 
Ever since the first weekend you took off, you loved the mental break it gave you, so Frankie encouraged you to take the leap and start taking off every weekend. The owners agreed, of course. He assured you it wouldn’t break into your routine together. If anything, your time together has increased significantly. You genuinely have no idea what you’d do without Frankie at your side nearly every single day, but there’s something in your heart telling you he’s feeling the same way. 
For six months, since the very first moment he fell bashful in his presence, you’ve been completely and utterly captivated by him. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way about him—especially not so early and not for this long—but there’s always been a magnetic pull between you. Both of you know it and neither of you can deny it, especially in the occasional flirty comment made by either of you, but there’s something holding you back from pushing for something more. You’ve grown accustomed to seeing him practically every single day, and one wrong move or one wrong boundary crossed, and suddenly everything is gone. You can’t risk it. You’d rather keep him at arm's length at all times rather than not have him at all. He’s your best friend for crying out loud. You cannot lose him to something so juvenile. 
However, with tonight being your weekend ritual paired with a particularly draining week of work, all you wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep your entire weekend away. Though, what you wanted more was to see Frankie. He told you it was truly okay if he didn’t come tonight, knowing about how hectic your week was, but you weren’t having any of that. 
“I swear to God, Frankie, I will fight you,” you told him on the phone earlier. 
“Oh, really?” You could hear his smug face in his reply. “I’d like to see you try.”
The butterflies erupt in your belly and begin to fly lower towards your core, igniting a spark in the lower part of you that you’ve been trying to keep at bay for months. You take a deep breath before steering the conversation elsewhere. You know he both hates and loves when you do that—smoothly pulling away from the bait he gives you while saving his ego in the process. You’ve gotten so good at this after years of unwanted flirting from customers. You didn’t realize how perfect this skill would be in keeping your distance from the man you want most.
“Shut up and get your ass over here, Morales,” you tell him. “I know where you live, you should be here by the time I change into my damn pajamas.”
“Should I change into mine, too?” He teases.
You both know Frankie loses every flirty little challenge that occurs between you. Which is why he isn’t surprised at your response, but it still stirs him up nonetheless. “That depends,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “Are you a gray sweatpants or plaid pajama pants kind of guy?”
“Both,” he says. To the average ear, it’d sound like the most casual response. To your ear, though, you can hear the pain laced in his voice. 
You stifle a giggle. “In that case, yes, please, by all means. Change into your pajamas, baby.”
You don’t leave room for him to reply, ending the call before you can overthink how that was the most suggestive flirty comment you’ve made yet. 
Pulling your head back into focus mode, you go to your kitchen to start preparing the usual snacks you two indulge in during these nights. You also got a new ice cream flavor on your last grocery run that you thought was interesting and wanted to try, but you’ll pull that out when he gets here. Or maybe not. You don’t need to watch him clean off his spoon like the attentive man you’ve come to learn that he is. Your body shudders at the image. 
Goodness, what is up with you today? You are always so good at keeping your feelings down, especially the physical ones. There must be something in the air today, because all you can think about are things you shouldn’t be doing with or to your best friend. 
Before you know it, a knock is at your door, and you cannot help the way your eyes immediately sweep his body from top to bottom with a lingering stare at his center. You’re absolutely shameless with it, too, your tongue darting out to lick your lips as you drink in the sight of him. Gray sweatpants. A dark green, fitted tee. You are drooling. 
Your eyes finally meet his own, and you’re met with a smug Frankie, knowing that this time, he won this round. “You alright there?” He asks you. 
Confusion takes over your face. “Huh?”
He brings his fingers up to swipe across his lip. Oh, dear God. “Got a little bit of...” he trails off with a smile. 
Your ears finally register his remark, and your hand is immediately swatting at his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get inside.”
He follows you into the kitchen, a new thing he started doing a few weekends ago to help bring all the snacks to your living room in one go rather than multiple trips. It also takes away from the amount of time he’s not with you, so you never questioned it. Walking back to the living room, you speak once more. “I cannot guarantee staying up the entire time, and I apologize now if I fall asleep on you.”
He says your name in an I told you so manner, “I already told you I didn’t have to come.” 
You’re sitting side by side on the couch now. “And I already told you I don’t care,” you respond back. He shakes his head disapprovingly at your persistence. You know he’s biting back a smile. A goofy smile you’ve caught a handful of times, and you eat up every single one. “You can choose the movie, though, seriously.” Adjusting yourself to a more comfortable position on the couch, a position where the sides of your bodies are closer together, your head finding solace on his shoulder, you add, “I swear, I think I wanted you here to be my pillow.”
“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” he whispers, taking control of the remote to throw on Elf. Your eyes are already beginning to close, and you mutter a small yeah at Frankie’s statement, then you are out like a light.
Frankie
Frankie spends most of the night watching and listening to you rather than the movie. Watching how your nose twitches ever so often or listening to the occasional snore that escapes you. He doesn’t even realize the movie is over until a trailer for another movie is halfway through. His wingspan allows him to reach the remote nearby, and he quickly shuts the television off. 
He debates if he should wake you and make sure you get to your bed safely, or if he should just slip out from underneath you and continue letting you sleep. You look so peaceful, he thinks. Yet exhausted. He decides on letting you sleep. Or at least, he tries to. 
He gently attempts separating himself from you, his hand cradling your head to rest it on the couch cushion rather than his shoulder. Even in your sleepy state, you’re just as stubborn. You smack his hand away and wrap your arms tighter around his arm, nuzzling your head further into his shoulder to gain your comfort back again. You let out a final huff before settling on your position. 
“Sweet girl,” he whispers. He can’t stop the endearment leaving his lips. His heart is too full at the way you’re physically attaching yourself to him. “I need to go,” he says softly. “Gotta let you sleep.” 
Your grip tightens more so, a little whimper leaving your lips as your eyebrows furrow. “Stay,” you mumble. 
And although you’re fully overtaken by sleep, he’ll be damned if he ever argues with you, no matter the state you’re in. He takes a deep, settling breath. “Only for a little while longer,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he minutely adjusts his body to a more comfortable position, his head leaning partly atop yours. 
You
It’s not lost on you—the two words that fell from Frankie’s lips when he thought you were deep in your slumber. It took every ounce of your willpower not to shudder at the way it echoed throughout your fatigue-hollowed brain. 
You thought that maybe, with Frankie’s perception of your sleepy state, you could let part of your inhibitions go with him—reveal to him how you really feel, and pretend the next morning that you don’t remember what you said if something you don’t want to hear is revealed. Though, that’s easier said than done, only able to build the courage to mutter one little word to him as you continue laying in his warm embrace, the soothing sounds of his steady breathing blessing your ears. 
The longer you lay here, the more antsy you become. What could possibly go wrong if you two revealed how you feel to each other? You know one hundred percent that the feelings are mutual; it’s a matter of who breaks first, and quite honestly? You’re fed up. 
You lift your head up, turning to look at him. He’s out.  “Frankie,” you whisper-yell. Nothing. 
“Frankie,” you say a little louder. Still nothing.  How the hell did he doze so fast?
Finally, with a small slap to his cheek and one final call of his name, he’s up—and confused as fuck. 
“Huh-” he blinks heavily. His groggy eyes are searching for you. “Cariño, are you okay? What’s going on?” he rushes out, the sleep disorienting his ability to respond appropriately, forcing worry to the forefront of his mind. Too worked up to let his brain chemistry regulate, you rip the bandaid right off. “Francisco, do you have feelings for me?”
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Well, fuck. If he wasn’t awake then, he sure as hell is now. 
“I-” he takes a deep breath, still trying to get his brain to catch up with the whiplash of events. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks, slightly defensive from the natural accusatory inflection with a question like this. 
Your face falls. So does his heart. “Frankie, don’t be coy,” you say—you beg. “Please, just answer the question.” 
He breaks your closeness, turning his body on the couch to completely face him. You mirror his movement. His eyes are searching yours. That something he couldn’t quite identify; that something that swims your gaze every time his eyes meet yours? It’s there, and he knows damn well what it is. He was just too afraid to admit it, to mortalize it into something real, something tangible. Because deep down? He knows he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve the love you give. The loyalty. The care. He’s done too much bad in this world to even fathom a mere chance at a life with you. 
But the way you sit there, staring back at him like he’s your entire world, he can’t stop the selfish desire to spill his truth to you. 
“Yes,” he lets out. The pure admittance is like a ton of weights have been completely lifted off of his chest after carrying it for so long. He can see the relief on your face, too, all your anxieties washing away with a single-syllable, three letter word. 
“Oh, thank God,” you softly giggle as you choke back a sob. Frankie can feel his eyes tear up. 
“Frankie?” you call. 
“Yeah?” He asks. 
“Please kiss me.”
His hands are on your cheeks in seconds, pulling you in to slot his lips with yours, a sweetness laced with a fire that’s been begging to be ignited since he met you—powdered sugared cheeks and a smile that could take a person out faster than any punch in the gut could. 
It’s quick to grow more passionate, his tongue dancing across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You let him in, of course—your tongue falls into a perfect tango, as if it were meant to be doing this dance with him all along. A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, and you eventually build enough strength to pull away. 
Frankie’s quick to apologize, his overthinking getting the best of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so carried away-”
You pull him in for a quick kiss to shut him up, a little laugh swirling in the air. “At what point did I make it feel or sound like I wasn’t enjoying that?”
In the dim light of your living room, you see a familiar tint glow across his nose and cheeks. He doesn’t—and can’t—respond to your very sound logic. “No, I-” you start, suddenly feeling yourself get all shy. “I pulled away because I- um…I was wondering if y-you-” you cut yourself off in frustration, grumbling out at the way you suddenly can’t face the man whose tongue was in your throat moments ago. 
You pick yourself up off the couch, grab his wrist, and swiftly lead you two to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you stop at the edge of your bed. “I-is this okay?” 
Frankie stares at you in a trance, a lust-filled yet pure adoring trance. Before your eyesight can register, Frankie’s dropping to his knees, hands on your hips to urge you to settle on your bed. “This is okay,” he promises. 
He kisses your belly through your pajamas. “More than okay,” he mumbles to no one in particular. 
“Frankie,” you whimper.
“Can I taste you, baby?” He asks, his gaze finally breaking from your eyes to glance down to your core. 
“Y-you don’t have to,” your voice quivers. 
His fingers find the hem of your pants, waiting for your signal. “Oh, I don’t have to,” he tells you. “But I want to,” he inhales. “To be honest, I need to, so fucking bad, baby.”
“Fuck,” you say as you rapidly nod your head for him, his hands wasting no time in pulling your bottoms of you. The desperation laced in his voice alone has your eyes wanting to roll back. You’re settling yourself to the edge of your bed, leaning back as you spread your legs for him. “Take what you want, Morales,” you declare.
He smirks before he dives in. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Oh!” you gasp out at the sensation, pure warmth and passion behind his movements, your head struggles to maintain upright at the sight. Your bottom lip instinctively hides between your teeth in an attempt to stifle the moans threatening to escape you, your tiny little whimpers the only sounds escaping you. 
He starts with a flat stripe up your cunt, his tongue gliding through your folds and lapping up your wetness to bring it up to circle your clit a few times before dragging back down to your entrance. His fingers are curling into your bed sheet tightly, scared to cross any boundaries by moving too fast to your liking. His cock instantly jumps at his senses being consumed; your sweet, tangy taste mixed with the distinct, saccharine scent that’s uniquely you—he can’t control the groan that escapes his throat and floods through you. God, he could spend forever worshiping at your altar, completely and utterly content. 
He pulls away momentarily, the slick bottom half of his face shining back at you. “I just know you can make a lot more of those sweet sounds for me, cariño,” he says as his tongue licks his bottom lip. “It’s just you and me, baby, let me hear you,” he says with a sharp flick of his tongue to your clit. “F-fuck,” you yelp out, your body jolting at the sudden piercing pleasure of his tongue’s movement, your fingers scrambling to the curls on his head. He looks up to you with a smirk, reveling in your reaction.
And with that, his hands are gripping your thighs, his face jumping right back in, completely flush against your center, his nose squished against your mound. His eyes are rolling back at the feel of you, the way your slick just pours for him as he continues licking and sucking everywhere he can reach. “F-feel so good,” you moan, your strength finally breaking as your upper body crashes down onto the bed, your back arching in pleasure. 
His dominant hand releases your thigh, and you can feel his finger teasing your entrance as his mouth treks back up to your needy bundle of nerves. “Frankie,” you gasp, “please.” 
He moans a raspy mhm into you, his finger not wasting another second before he dips inside, utterly turned on at the warmth wrapped around his finger. He can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his aching length. 
Frankie lifts off your clit with a pop, his finger still pumping in and out, in and out. Your hips are meeting each movement, desperate moans and incoherent pleas leaving your mouth as he watches your pleasure in a pure bliss.
His eyes fall back down to your cunt and the way it’s greedily swallowing his middle finger. “God damn, baby,” he mutters. “I think you can take another, sweet girl,” he breathes, leaning down again to place an open-mouthed kiss on your sensitive center. “What do ya think?” he asks breathily. 
He’s watching every inch of you—the way your thighs are twitching, the way your fingers are stark white in its grip, the way your mouth is falling open into a weak o-shape as you try and force words to leave your mouth. “P-please,” you attempt, “a-another-”
Immediately, he’s straightening out his ring finger to join his middle, his smug smirk falling into a desperate one, needing to pull every ounce of pleasure he can from you really his only goal for tonight. “I’ve got you, cariño,” he tells you, his mouth returning back to lavish you as his fingers curl and hit the spongy trigger button from deep inside. 
You practically yell out for him—neighbors be damned—as your orgasm overtakes every inch of your being, catapulting you into another pleasure-filled dimension. “I’ve got you,” he comforts with his lips still attached to your skin, “let go for me, mi amor.”
His fingers are still pumping inside of you, fucking you through the intense wave of your orgasm. His head rests on your thigh, pressing soft kisses  and sweet praises as you slowly gain consciousness.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Too good to me.”
“Estoy tan enamorado de ti.” 
Frankie takes your hazy disposition for granted, using this small window to whisper everything he’s been wanting to say to you forever. 
You begin to whimper at his movements, and he takes that as his queue to relieve you. His fingers finally leave, his mouth taking the responsibility of lapping up your slick—thoroughly, you note, as you watch him rise to his full height.
“You okay, cariño?” He asks as he swiftly takes his shirt off. Your eyes grow impossibly darker at his bare torso, your spit falling thicker, and you’re quick to scramble yourself up higher onto your bed. 
“More than okay,” you mirror his words from earlier. He lets out a little laugh, the butterflies in his tummy ever-present as his eyes scan you up and down. He pulls down his sweats, too, before he’s kneeling on the bed, crawling up towards where you’re situated. You can’t help the way your smirk falls when your eyes do—pure hunger consumes your features, and Frankie’s cock jumps at the sight. 
He gulps at the way you’re eating him alive, too eager to be inside you yet too nervous in the case of accidentally messing anything up. The last thing he wants to do is cross the line with you. 
As if reading his mind, you take the initiative to pull your top off, your boobs an immediate distraction from his anxieties. “Don’t get shy on me now, Morales,” you say as you let your hands caress your body and make its way down to your still-soaked pussy. “She’s feeling so empty,” you pout, your hips bucking up as your fingers rub your clit. 
You swear Frankie’s eyes flash red, and he’s caging you against your bed within seconds. One arm hooked around your waist, the other holding himself up near your head. You bracket his hips with your own as his lips hungrily crash into yours. 
You can feel the way his cock rubs against your center, his hips grinding into yours, letting his tip catch onto your clit as your tongues fight for dominance. Your hand snakes down without him realizing, a hearty gasp leaving his throat as your fingers pump him a few times before you guide him towards your entrance, easily pulling him in with your post-orgasm slick. 
He’s slow with the way he’s thrusting into you; pulling out until only the tip is inside only to push all the way in at an agonizing pace as he lets you get used to his size.“S-shit,” he whimpers, followed by your name. “So d-damn g-good,” he takes a shaky breath. “‘S like you were m-made f’me,” he forces out, pained. 
Even though it was an easy glide in, Frankie is fucking huge, his girth still providing a slight sting of a stretch, but you love it. You’re gonna feel him inside you for days at a time, and the thought makes your pussy flutter around him. His hold on your waist tightens in an attempt to steady any squirming that might come from you. “Gonna fucking cum already if you keep on like that, honey,” he groans. His eyes are shut in pained pleasure. 
Fighting against his hold, you start meeting his thrusts, the angle of your hips providing the perfect friction against your clit, you just might cum again in seconds if you both keep this up. 
“I don’t care,” you tell him, your ankles locking around his waist. “Fuck me, Frankie,” you say, grabbing onto his face to making him look at you. “Make up for loss time, and fuck me,” you snarl. 
His lips are sloppily on you, hips speeding up, pounding into you deliciously hard. Both of you are too lost in the pleasure to even properly kiss right now—a mess of spit, tongue, and teeth clashing as you swallow each other’s moans. 
Frankie breaks his lips from yours and he trails his touch lower, biting onto your chin and nipping lower and lower all over your neck. The sensation causes a fresh wave of flutters at your core, evident in the even louder wet squelch each thrust produces from between you. 
You’re feeling so good, too good, that your chest arches into him, and Frankie takes the opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipples. Licking and sucking on each, slathering them in his spit before ultimately latching onto your left breast and practically making out with it as he continues fucking you into your matress. 
“Oh my God, Frankie,” you whine, eyes clamping shut at just how good he’s making you feel. “Just like that, baby, please don’t stop,” you say, your fingers finding purchase in his curls for a second time tonight, keeping him on your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again.”
He lifts off your left breast, and moves on to the right, trailing wet kisses on his path over. “Let me feel you, princesa,” he mutters as he gives your other breast the same treatment. His hand leaves your waist to make its way to your clit, giving you the extra push you needed to fall off the edge once more. Your pussy clenches at the feeling—a stream of yes and please and fuck leaves your mouth—causing his stomach to tighten, dragging him to the edge along with you. “Cum with me,” you say. “Cum in me,” you quickly revise, “need to feel you,” you whimper. 
His fingers speed up on you as his hips falter in its rhythm, and then it’s pure white, hot bliss consuming both of you in a way neither of you have ever felt. “Oh, fuck,” he lets out as he lifts off of your breast, pretty red flowers blooming under his mouth’s touch. Fireworks erupt behind your eyelids, vibrating you from the inside out, as a fire roars through every nerve of his body, leaving him a heaving, trembling, jello piece of mass above you as he struggles not to crush you. 
You can feel the way his muscles are shaking, the bed vibrating with him. A giggle filled with ecstasy escapes you, relishing in the contrast of the airiness of your body compared to the solid mass he turns into post-orgasm. 
You grab onto his shoulders, and softly nudge him to slide to lay beside you before you slip off on jello legs to the bathroom and kitchen. With as much strength he can muster, he turns to you with a frown. “Where you going?” 
“Just gonna get a cloth and water for us both, baby,” you chuckle. You head to the kitchen first and bring the waters to your night stand, taking a large gulp from your glass and forcing him to do the same. You bring yourself back to the bathroom and wipe yourself with a warm cloth, throw it in the hamper, and get a new one to clean Frankie. 
You make your way to his bedside, and you bring the cloth to his face first. He’s quick to stop you. “Frank,” you scold. “What are you doing?”
“I…” his face goes red. “I can still smell you on me.”
You swear your knees buckle, heat overtaking your entire body. “Let me clean it,” you whisper, not really knowing how to reply to that. He just gives you puppy dog eyes. You quirk your eyebrow at him. “You can taste me again later,” you offer with a smirk. 
He thinks it over for a second, a sigh escaping his lips like he just made the hardest decision ever. “Fiiiine,” he drags out, exaggerated. 
After you wipe the rest of him down and bring his cloth to your hamper, he’s quick to reach for you with grabby hands, always needing to be in your embrace—especially more so now.
You cuddle facing each other, your head tucked into his neck as your legs tangle with one another. He’s drawing shapes and lines all around your back. 
“Hey, Frankie?” you call out. 
“Yeah, cariño?” 
“You said something earlier,” you say. “Estoy enamorado something. What does that mean?”
Frankie’s ears go hot. Surely after everything you two just did together, that’s a declaration of love in itself. What more if it’s actually verbalized? “Oh. Um- yeah,” he replies a little rigidly. “Estoy tan enamorado de ti,” he repeats the phrase. 
You’re looking up at him now, eyes bright and curious. “Yeah, that!”
“It- um- it means…” he trails off. He meets your gaze, and his heart stops. He’s so in love with you. 
“Well,” he clears his throat. “It means I’m so in love with you.”
Your gaze shifts from one of curiosity to one of pure, unfiltered love. Your eyes are tearing up at his admission. He brings his finger up to catch a tear escaping your eye. 
You sniffle and take a shaky breath in. “Well, in that case. I’m so in love with you,” you state matter-of-factly, pushing your body up to catch his lips in a soft but lengthy kiss, one that hopefully translates to him just how much you love him, need him, and want him—ever since you took his order. 
He releases your lips to place a soft kiss to your nose then to your forehead before pulling you in closer to relax in each other’s hold. A few more moments pass before he calls your name. 
“Hm?” 
“Can you remind me tomorrow to reach out to my therapist?” 
“Of course, baby,” you say with a kiss to his chest. “Everything okay?” 
“Oh, yeah, baby, everything’s good,” he confirms. “Just need to send them a gift basket or something.”
You look up at him with a confused look on your face. “You and your therapist give each other gifts during Christmas?”
“No,” he tells you. “Well, I thought we didn’t. But in telling me to fix my routine, they led me to you, so.”
“Baby,” you frown, feeling yourself tear up again. 
“I know I pay ‘em to do this,” he says, “but a gift like this? A miracle like this? I feel like I’ve gotta give something a little more.”
Unable to hold in your emotions, you crash your lips against his for the millionth time tonight. Pulling away a little breathless, you say, “Sign my name on there, too.” 
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End note: Again, I truly hope you, @alwaysbethewest (and everyone else) were able to enjoy the way this sweet sweet story unfolded. I didn't realize just how much their dynamic would mean to me, but here we are, an entire piece of my heart later💚. Thank you for prompting me exactly what you did. I'm endlessly grateful. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! Lastly, I just want to give a little special shoutout to my rock @javierpena-inatacvest for proofreading this story for me and making sure it did our Frankie boy justice. I love you.💚
Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @yorksgirl
Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether. Much love! Xx
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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damse1ette · 2 years
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yknow id love to be able to go more than a week of ac taking care of myself without relapsing ✌️😐
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deepdarkdelights · 1 year
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Perfection | Jin x Reader
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Pairing: Vampire Jin x  Reader 
Word Count: 16k
Series: (6/7) Predator Universe
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Breaking and Entering, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Anger Issues, Dismemberment, MC had a fear of death, MC has agoraphobia, but MC is in therapy (good for her), Jin is kind of an asshole but we love it, kind of pet-playish(?), Jin is basically a sugar daddy tbh 
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview: Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you. 
A/N: I have been working on this fic since July and I am so happy that it is finally done and you guys will be able to read it! I really hope the time this took was worth it and that the fic was worth the hype lol. It’s almost one thirty in the morning and I have a quiz so I really should be sleeping. I think this is one of my favorite installments of the series! I hope you enjoy the fic and as always I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and my comments. Ily 💜💜💜
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Kim Seokjin had not only a pretty face but a brilliant mind as well. 
At least, that’s what he told everyone. 
If there was a singular sin that he could fully encompass it would be vanity. And the sin that he shared with nearly everyone in his “family” was that of pride: a deadly and violent mix. That blend was what led to his damnation.
He knew that he deserved only the best and nothing less, that was exactly how he had been raised when he was still human. In the late 1800s, he had been granted the privilege of being born into high-class society as the eldest son, the heir to the Kim legacy. Everything he wanted was directly at his fingertips and at his disposal. From the moment he was born he was guaranteed power, and that was something he wished to never lose. 
As the heir to a luxury wine company, it was only expected that alcohol, parties, and lewd behavior were set to follow him, and he exceeded those expectations. But he was good at keeping business and pleasure as two distinctly separate functions. 
And with the life he lived, it was not often that individuals met his expectations. And by individuals, he meant potential wives. Naturally, it was expected of him to marry and continue the family's legacy. But the gold spoon that he was born with in his mouth tainted the pool. No one was good enough for him and that caused much strife within the family. 
He was well past the age of marrying at twenty-eight years old. He was beginning to feel the pressure his father and mother were putting on his shoulders. And, not to mention, he was well aware that he was aging. Of course, he would never admit that his looks were fading. There was not a crease in his skin or a gray hair to be plucked, but he could feel it. He could see the minute imperfections that no one else could. It made his skin crawl in disgust. 
And then Kim Namjoon entered the frame and everything began to come together. 
His mother had insisted on organizing yet another party to find him a wife under the guise that he was there to make several important business deals. But when the vast majority of partygoers were young women with stars in their eyes he knew what was really going on. And of course, he was not going to stick around and socialize with subpar candidates. If he were going to do that it would be restricted to his bedroom, of course. 
Namjoon had come to that party that night, Yoongi in tow despite his protests. Namjoon was a cultured man, he liked to mingle with the members of high society from time to time. It helped him learn what was appropriate for the decade as trends (in manners, clothing, and amusement) came and went rapidly. And those who belonged to the upper class were those who set those trends. It was strategic and it helped his kind blend in as seamlessly as possible. 
And Jin was the epitome of a high-class man. 
And so, Namjoon and Yoongi befriended him. It hadn’t been hard for them, they had been around for so long that they fit right in. And Jin had merely thought he found more of the few people that could meet his high expectations - his small inner circle growing with two new additions. But of course, that friendship had started out with the purpose of using Jin for what he had. 
So in turn, he used them. 
While Jin had a pretty face, he actually was quite smart and observant. He took note of his companions' odd behavior. He never saw them during the daytime, only in the veil of the night. They had the oddest colored eyes - not quite black but a deep shade of burgundy like the embers of a smoldering fire laid within their depths. And they were cold, absolutely frigid to the touch like a corpse. It didn’t take him very long to piece together what they were, and it was only proven true when he caught the both of them feasting on lifeless corpses in his guest room. He timed everything just perfectly to discover their true nature. 
Yoongi had seemed genuinely surprised, bloody lips parted in shock as he stood as still as a statue, the limp body still collapsed in his iron grasp. 
Namjoon, on the other hand, was smiling. He too was not able to conceal his nature any longer but he wasn’t trying either. He took his time and continued to finish his meal despite the obvious living human presence in the room. 
“You two have been holding out on me,” Jin said with a disappointed tone. 
“Holding out?” Namjoon echoed before relaxing his arms and allowing the corpse to slip down to the floor, the thinnest drizzle of blood pooling onto the parquet flooring. 
Yoongi could only stare at the both of them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two other men. 
“Yes, holding out! You are immortal are you not?”
“Yes, we are, and I’m sure you’ve figured out the rest by now haven’t you?” 
“You may have been able to fool all of those other halfwits but it was painfully obvious to me, of course.”
“Of course.” Namjoon nodded while trying to suppress an amused grin. 
“I want in, I wish to join you and your kind.” 
“No,” Yoongi immediately cut in, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, this is a curse it is not something to take lightly and flirt with the notion of.” 
His tone was harsh, his face stern but there was evident pain behind his eyes. Yoongi had been forced into this life if that was what you could even call it. He couldn’t fathom someone willingly agreeing to eternal damnation and he would try his hardest to convince them otherwise. 
“Are you denying me?” Jin asked, his face contorted in utter disbelief. He was never denied anything in his twenty-eight years of life and the feeling of rejection was infuriating. 
“Yoongi, it’s his decision,” Namjoon interjected, his hand wiping the blood from his mouth leaving a streaky crimson trail behind. 
“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Yoongi hissed.
“What is there to consider? He’s already seen us and he knows what he wants.”
“He has no idea what he wants!” 
“And why are you speaking for me? Just because you’re miserable and dissatisfied does not mean the same will be said for me!” Jin spat. “I grow tired of this human body. Every second of every day I feel myself wasting away and there is not a thing I can do about it.”
“You would throw away your humanity, your life, all in the name of vanity?” Yoongi asked in disbelief. 
“And for greed as well,” Jin laughed, “Believe me, I am many things and one of them is self-aware. I am a selfish bastard and I am perfectly fine with that. I won’t allow my looks to fade and my fortune will grow as centuries pass. This is what I desire and I refuse to concede.”
He was a businessman in every aspect. 
“It sounds like he’s made his choice, Yoongi.” Namjoon finally spoke.
“It sounds like he’s made an ignorant choice and I refuse to have any part in this,” Yoongi said, storming past the two of them and slamming the door shut with enough force that the mahogany wood cracked by the handle. 
“So, are we going to fuck about or will you give me what I want?” Jin asked, his impatience growing. 
“I consider you a good friend, Jin. I won't lie, I am pleased that you are asking this of me.” Namjoon smiled before grabbing Jin’s shoulder, “We’re all lonely children looking for a place where we belong.” 
Lonely children, that was one way to put it. Namjoon was not entirely wrong. In a world where you deserved only the best, many fell short and in the end, you were painfully alone, whether you were willing to admit it or not. 
“Before we go through with this, there are some things you should know.”
“What things?”
“You can’t go in the sun, not just yet, you’ll be far too young and far too sensitive to light. Quiet, dark, scentless places are going to be the best place to stay - your senses are going to be heightened tenfold. You must feed often in the early years, you’re going to be very hungry, bloodthirsty really so you need to stay away from large crowds of people.” 
Jin was silent for a moment, his eyes shifting from left to right and back again as he processed everything he was told. He could manage, and he could figure out how to do all of those things while maintaining his position as an heir. 
“Lastly, do not try and do this alone. In our world, there is strength in numbers as well as safety. You’ll have to stay with me and Yoongi, we will all be bound to one another as creator and creation.”
“So when you two leave…”
“You will follow.” Namjoon nodded, “We try to stay in one place for as long as we can so if it’s your family you’re worried about you’ll have plenty of time to figure something out.” 
But they weren’t coming with him. As terrible as it was, that wasn’t a great enough reason to sway his decision. He still wanted what he desired and he was willing to let his family go. So he stuck out his hand, ready to shake on the agreement. 
“I accept the conditions.” 
~~~~~~~
Most people were afraid of spiders, some of heights, and many feared drowning. But you feared something a bit more abstract and with a bit more finality. You were afraid of aging and by association, you were incredibly afraid of death. 
And that fear often leads you to do a few things. One of them was to start skincare at an absurdly young age. The other was to hermit yourself inside of your house out of fear of some horrific accident befalling you. And the other was to seek out strange and obscure places to visit before you die. It was odd that the last two coincide but they do. 
There were days when you were so frightened that you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed. And then you had days where you felt daring, if you were going to die one day would you really want to have lived your only life trapped inside of your own house? There were your good days and your bad days and they came and went like the tides.
Today was a “good” day. And by good day that meant you were on your laptop scrolling through forums trying to find a new place to visit. Living in a small town was hard, you knew everyone and every place because they were so few in number. But sometimes there were locations in between towns, or hidden spots in your own. Briar Hills is an old town, a historical town even. It’s not uncommon for places to be abandoned, concrete skeletons collapsing and being devoured by the flora.
It was finding them, buried in hundreds of posts, that was difficult. The teenagers in the town had taken to reclaiming those places, turning them into party spots in the blink of an eye. But that has changed in the past few months. Ever since the first body turned up. 
That was the thing about small towns, murder was much rarer than the action that cities see. So, when dozens of corpses begin to show up in streams and lakes and people begin to go missing without a trace - panic ensues. As well as a town-wide curfew. 
Briar Hills turned into a ghost town after dark. The streets would be empty, lit by a few lampposts spread down the street that was easily consumed by a thick, hazy fog. Every now and then the fog would be broken by police lights, red and blue shocks of color dispersing the mist as the night patrol came around the block. It looked like something out of a horror movie. 
And, if it weren’t a good day, the sight alone would be enough to keep you corralled in your room. But it was a good day and you had become stir-crazy from staying in your house for the past few weeks.
After endless scrolling there was one post in particular that caught your attention. It looked like an extravagant invitation with a satin black background and deep red embellishments. It had very little interaction and it was written in a completely different language. For something as obscure as an abandoned place in a small town you weren’t surprised that it had gone unnoticed, especially considering few people checked this forum. 
Putting the text into google translate had not been insanely helpful. The translated text was jumbled and made little sense, it was one of those languages that did not thrive when it came to longer translations. But you were interested and fairly stubborn and after extended research and decoding fragmented sentences you were left with this:
“The best bite I’ve ever had,” And following that was a set of coordinates that had been written out instead of just using their numerical counterparts. 
You were interested. 
What could that mean? Maybe it was some hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but why all the decorum? Why the translations? Who even uses coordinates anymore? The best way to get the answers you desired was to discover them for yourself. 
That’s how you ended up sneaking out of your house, dressed head to toe in dark colors, like some teenager that’s about to disappoint their parents. Except, in this case, your parents were the cops, and being grounded would equate to being detained for violating the town-wide curfew. All the more reason to not get caught. 
You started to get cold feet when you realized where the set of coordinates was leading you, your body came to a fast stop when the toes of your boots met the edge of the forest. The forest, at night, with low visibility, and predators prowling was a bad move. That just screamed a sudden and violent death, not to mention the bulk of missing persons' corpses had been found within its depths. This was a stupid idea, a bad move, but it was a good day and you were too stubborn to follow reason. You would make up for it tomorrow by hiding in your bed all day. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a coping mechanism nonetheless. 
You took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and took a step forward. There was no going back now, you had made up your mind.
The further into the forest you trekked the quieter it became. It didn’t make sense. You were getting further from society so why was it so quiet? The wind was still, not a branch or leaf trembled, and not even a cricket dared to chirp. It was like every living creature had up and left, abandoning their home. The only sound that filled the static silence was the bubbling rush of water from the river. 
You began to walk faster, your nerves urging you to get where you were going and be done with it. On top of that, your eyes were starting to play tricks on you, your brain attempting to make sense of the dark and fill in what was missing resulting in ominous shadows shifting through the trees. You were regretting your decision immensely, so you picked up the pace and began humming to yourself to fill the silence. 
If you were being honest, you really had no idea what you were supposed to be looking for. The post hadn’t listed much of anything and you weren’t sure what would be at the end of the coordinates. But, the red light glowing in the distance was a sure sign of something. It grew more intense as you neared it, the light getting stronger the closer to the ground it was. When you finally pushed through the underbrush you were met with a set of concrete stairs leading down into the ground and at the very bottom was an old metal door with a faintly pulsing red light above it. Looking down at your phone you were able to verify that you had made it to where the coordinates were marked. 
It was a bomb shelter. It was most likely one for the community back in the forties, an evacuation and safe point for those who didn’t have their own. It must have been abandoned and forgotten about after the war, left to rot there for the past eighty years. But if that light was anything to go by, it must have been reclaimed by someone. 
You carefully stepped down the stairs, applying a little weight at a time to make sure that the concrete hadn’t eroded and wouldn’t crumble beneath you. When you reached the bottom you tried the door and to your surprise, it opened with a creak. There was a long tunnel just barely lit by candles lining the walls leaving deep shadows in between them. And now you could feel the walls thumping, steadily vibrating with a muffled bass. That meant there was another chamber somewhere. 
You hesitantly traveled down the tunnel, long stretches of the floor would eventually give way to more stairs leading you deeper and deeper underground. This was a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. The more you walked the harder the walls vibrated until you finally came upon another door where the sounds became the loudest. Above the door hung a purple neon sign that read: “Blood Sugar.” 
Upon testing the door handle, you were surprised to find that it was unlocked, and once it slowly swung open your nose was assaulted with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and a coppery odor. You swiftly entered and closed the door behind you, trying your best not to bring too much attention to yourself. But it appears you would have no trouble doing so. 
The room you had stepped into was massive, the walls were tall and rounded out at the ceiling and were made completely out of metal. But it was far from a barren, abandoned bunker. The room was packed with people, some dancing, some drinking, and others wrapped around one another on the various red velvet chaises spread around the space. The music was loud and the room was lit by antique chandeliers as well as deep purple lighting casting an ominous glow over everyone. 
The bunker had been converted into a club of some sort and despite the decrepit tunnels you had slunk through to get here, it was surprisingly luxurious. You were honestly surprised the entire town hadn’t known about this place. That much was certainly true because, despite the large crowd, you could only recognize about five people you had seen before. The massive gathering was largely that of people that were not from Briar Hills. 
A set of delicate hands slithered around your waist, tugging you sharply towards the stranger behind you. A shout of surprise parted your lips as you turned around, slapping the offending limbs off of you. 
There was a tall woman facing you with a grin on her face, her bright white teeth glinting from behind her deep red lips. Her skin was so pale it was glowing with a purple hue from the lights, her long black curls creating an even sharper contrast against her skin. And you couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did, but the sight of those bright white teeth had your stomach twisting in knots. Despite her delicate appearance, every red flag was being raised in your body. The urge to run was strong. 
“Hello, sweetheart,” She crooned, “You’re new, aren’t you?” 
Something in the back of your mind demanded you lie. 
“No, I’m not. If you’ll excuse me,” You said, your voice steady and cold despite the goosebumps on the back of your neck and the rapid thump of your pulse. 
As you went to walk past her she easily stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, her face suddenly incredibly close as she pressed her nose to your hairline and took a deep breath. “Oh, you can’t lie to me, I remember every sweet little snack that comes in here.” 
What. The. Fuck.
“Look, I’m not interested in…whatever that means,” You huffed, taking a few steps back and breaking free from her steel grasp, “I’m just here for a drink.”
“Oh?” She hummed, “So am I, I’m glad we can cut to the chase.” 
“Okay?” You slowly asked before shuffling around her imposing figure, “See ya.” 
You slipped into the crowd, forcing your way through the bodies in an attempt to shake her off of your trail. Anybody else in your position would have lingered for the ethereal woman, but you couldn’t ignore that feeling in the back of your mind or that tug deep in your gut. She was dangerous, and no pretty smile or sweet words could hide it. It was in times like these that your intense fear of death became present as paranoia, warning you of all potential threats.
When you started therapy you were encouraged to slowly step out of your comfort zone, to do things that would combat your anxieties. So, on good days, you try your best to succeed with these short-term goals hoping in the long run you could live normally like every other person your age. But you often found your anxiety creeping up on you and you knew after tonight you would need the rest of the week to recover and that meant avoidance which meant hiding out in your rented duplex. 
But for now, you had to cope. 
When you broke free from the crowd you stumbled forward, a stray limb jabbing you in the back and sending you reeling onto one of the velvet chaises. To your utter embarrassment, you landed right next to a couple that had left all of their inhibitions at the door like many other patrons of the underground club. The woman was straddling the man's thighs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, her long locks obscuring his face. Although you couldn’t see what he was doing it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the woman’s mouth opened to let out soft moans of pleasure. 
Heat rushed up to your face as you stumbled off of the chaise and backed up from the voyeuristic lovers. Of course, you weren't innocent, but seeing something like that in person was different from shamelessly reading smut at three AM. 
A few feet away from the couple was the bar. It was surprisingly empty for a club. The man you assumed to be the bartender behind the countertop was relaxing against it, his dark eyes scanning your awkward posture. 
You swiftly approached the bar and yelled over the music, “Hi, how much is water?”
He gave you an amused chuckle before grabbing a small leather menu and sliding it over to you, “We don’t serve that here, sweetheart.” 
You stared at him in confusion before flipping open the menu. The only thing listed there were various wines all costing an exorbitant amount of money, and by that, you meant at least three months' rent and that was just for a glass, not even the bottle. 
“These prices are insane, are you kidding me?!” 
“They’re from 1889, newbie.” He smiled, a grin identical to the woman from earlier. 
“Well, this was a bust.” You groaned, the initial buzz of excitement from finding a town secret had long since faded. 
“Can I offer you some advice?” 
“Be my guest.”
“You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings, you’ve had eyes on you since you stepped foot in this place.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you. 
“If I were you, I would get out of here. Things get crazy with fresh blood, ya know? The people here are like sharks in the water.” The bartender said, regaining your attention. “Uh oh, looks like you got one on your trail.” 
You followed his and the pretty stranger’s gaze behind you. It was her again, the woman from earlier. She was slipping through the ocean of moving bodies with ease, her gait like that of a jaguar on the prowl as she approached. You watched as her polished fingers wiped away what looked like stray lipstick from beneath her lips. 
Without thinking you darted away from the bar and past the pretty man, rushing through the first door you found which turned out to be the bathroom. Once the door fell shut you felt like you could relax for a moment. The music was muffled allowing you to think coherently for the first time since you had entered the bunker. Everything had become far too stimulating and you could feel your anxiety rising. 
You leaned against the sink, turning the water on ice cold before splashing your face so that you could shock yourself back into clarity. You allowed yourself to brace the sink and relax your body, focusing on your breathing and grounding yourself before you lost control, just the way you were taught to. 
The feeling of ice-cold fingers on your shoulders threw all of your work away. 
You yelped and flinched, your eyes flying open to see her standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror. 
“I knew you were a shy little thing, you should have just told me you wanted to do this privately.” She sighed with a sickeningly sweet smile. 
In a moment of flight, fight, or freeze your body chose for you, your legs running without you telling them to do so. You didn’t make it far, not before she grabbed hold of you and threw you up against the wall. Your head hit the tile behind you so hard you saw stars. 
“I’ve been hunting you down all night, you’ve made me build up quite the appetite. Do you know how many others I’ve had to threaten to get to you? Everyone always wants to take someone’s first bite.” 
What the fuck was she talking about? 
“While it was cute at first, we've played this game for long enough, don’t you think?”
“Let go of me!” You yelled while grabbing her wrists and trying to pry her hands off of you. To your complete and utter shock, she didn’t move an inch, it was like her bones were made of iron - immovable and inflexible. 
“Now, now, don’t go throwing a tantrum that won’t get you anywhere.” She sighed, sliding her hand up your shoulder to wrap around your throat and squeeze. 
Your throat and lungs burned as her grip slowly increased its pressure, your eyes watering as broken gasps and chokes for air gurgled past your lips. 
“There there, much better.” She whispered into your ear as she released your throat, your body going limp as you gasped for air. 
She easily gathered you up into her arms and softly tilted your head to the side, her perfectly polished nails grazing over the stretch of skin as she hummed before pressing her cherry-red lips to your throat. 
“Don’t worry, you’ll feel a slight pinch.” She joked before her jaw widened and a demonic hiss left her throat as her teeth grazed the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck. 
But before she could sink her teeth in she was harshly ripped away from you, her perfect face slammed so hard into the bathroom wall that the tiles shattered upon impact. A loud cry of pain echoed throughout the room as she pulled herself from the wall, black blood was pouring from her crooked nose and her sliced lips. 
Behind her stood the stranger from before, a miffed and frankly disgusted expression marred his stunning features. 
“What the fuck, Jin?!” She screamed, cupping her injured face. 
“She’s not a fang banger, Junghee.”
Her once flawless features froze in shock as a look of horror crawled over her face. It was the look of someone who realized that they had made a horrible mistake. 
“You’ve really fucked up this time.” He growled in irritation, a genuine growl that had your skin crawling. 
“Well, how was I supposed to know?! What is she even doing here?!”
“That’s none of your concern anymore, get the fuck out!” He yelled, ripping the bathroom door open and throwing her out of the room. 
You stayed pressed up against the wall out of pure terror. Vampires, you had walked into a fucking nest of vampires and had the closest brush with death you’ve ever had in your entire life. Your gaze remained locked on the vampire, Jin, as he calmed down; the waves of his rage slowly dissipating. In this lighting, you could finally see what you hadn’t been able to before in the dim club. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes gleamed a vibrant, intimidating red. 
You winced in fright as he took a step in your direction, your body attempting to meld into the wall behind you. Jin raised his eyebrow in questioning, taken aback by your apprehension. It wasn’t often he had humans cowering in fear, usually, they shook from…something else. 
“Enough of that, come along human.” He snapped, grabbing you by your sleeve and easily dragging you from the room despite your protests and your heels digging into the ground. He was pulling you as if you weighed nothing. 
“Let go!” You shrieked in terror, struggling against his hold with all of your might. 
He came to a sudden halt, gripping you by your shoulder and pulling your body so close that there was barely an inch of space left between his chest and your own. 
“Don’t you think you’ve drawn enough attention to yourself tonight?” 
You peered over your shoulder, and sure enough, there were several of his kind watching the two of you from the dance floor. Their stares were curious and hungry. Unconsciously you shifted closer to him, choosing the lesser of two evils, one vampire versus many. 
“Look at that you’re smart, for a human.” He snickered before guiding you back to the curtained area you had seen him sitting in before Junghee had cornered you in the bathroom. 
“Sit, stay.” He said with a smirk as he pressed you down by your shoulder onto one of the couches before gesturing for someone to close the thick curtains. 
“Look, I just want to go home. I won’t breathe a word about what happened here or what this place is, it was a mistake coming here.” 
“A mistake indeed, but a mistake that needs correcting nonetheless,” Jin said with a distressed roll of his (impressive) shoulders. “So, tell me human, how did you find this place?” 
You sat there in silence for a moment, your face the perfect image of confusion, “Are you being serious right now?”
“I don’t recall telling a joke.”
“You - there was a post online, on a forum? Anyone could have found it if they were looking close enough, it really wasn’t that hard to find. All I had to do was translate the text and it told me where to go.”
“A…forum?” He repeated, clearly confused. 
Dear God, he was an old-ass vampire who didn't know much about technology or even the internet. He didn’t even know he had advertised the place. He was just an old man in a young man’s body. 
“You know, a forum, it’s online, it's where people who want to discuss a certain topic go to. I was looking for obscure places, abandoned buildings, and lesser-known spots in town. I found the posting for this place and it just said ‘The best bite I’ve ever had’...I didn’t know it meant literally.” You said, your nerves leading you to ramble on and on. 
Jin’s eyes pressed shut, his face contorting in anger as a hiss parted his lips, “Jimin.”
Jimin and himself were the only two vampires in their coven that knew about the club Jin hosted. Jin had been careless one night and Jimin had followed him, discovering the secret he had kept well hidden. Jin bought Jimin’s silence initially with limited access to the place, but now he was regretting every interaction he had had with the short vampire.
One of the few times Jin had found himself getting on with said vampire had led him to express his annoyance with the lack of human stock for the club. In turn, Jimin had offered to help “advertise” in exchange for unrestricted access to the club. 
Now that he had figured out how the little human had snuck her way in, he had to decide what to do with her. He could always kill her, that would be the simple answer. He could drain her dry and snap her pretty neck in an instant. But that wasn’t really his style, he typically preferred to savor his meals unlike his gorger of a “brother”, Jungkook. 
Perhaps the human could serve a purpose for him. 
“Come, human.” He beckoned with his fingers.
You remained frozen in your seat, your body still in active survival mode keeping your joints locked. 
Jin sighed, clearly miffed by your disobedience. He rose from his own seat only to cross the room and sit next to you. His long fingers gripped your chin and jerked your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hold was ice cold, the chill from his touch steadily seeping into your jaw. You felt paralyzed by his intimidating crimson gaze. His eyes flicked quickly over your features as he turned your head from side to side, taking in your every pore. 
“Not bad, for a human. Don’t feel too offended, it’s difficult to look as flawless as myself.” He said with a casual tone as if he were merely stating a fact. 
“You look pretty average to me,” You blurted out the lie, your lips moving before your brain could stop you from verbalizing. 
It was so fast you almost couldn't see it but it was there, his left eye twitched and his grip tightened forcing a slight whine of pain from you. He roughly jerked your head to the side, choosing to ignore what you said despite how much it clearly bothered him. Instead, he trained his focus on your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt down past your collarbone.
“Smooth,” He observed, his icy touch skipping over the skin of your throat, “Junghee didn’t sink her dirty fangs in you after all, that’s good.” 
Without warning he leaned down, his nose skimming over your neck as he breathed in, flooding himself with your scent. His grip tightened as you yelped and tried to jerk away from him in fear that this time you would surely die at the hands of a mythical creature, a monster in the flesh. 
You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his plump lips brush your throat, his cool breath fanning over the skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His actions were reminiscent of a wine connoisseur, the way they studied the body of the wine and the aroma. He was assessing you - attempting to decide if you would make a good meal, that you were certain of. 
You jerked as you felt him bury his face further into your neck. You could feel the slight flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as a groan parted his lips. 
“Well, don’t you smell delicious?” He crooned, his tongue swiping over his lips and just barely ghosting over your throat. “I think that we can come to an agreement, does that sound nice?” 
“What,” You paused to clear your throat, “what did you have in mind?” 
“I’m glad you asked,” He said with a wink after pulling back from you, “You see, I think we could mutually benefit from one another’s company. While breaking your pretty little neck would certainly be the easiest way out of this problem, I do find you quite amusing, pet.”
Your body grew stiff as your mind conjured up the image of his strong hands severing your vertebrate in one smooth pull, your body falling limp and lifeless on the club’s floor. Your greatest fear was death and Jin was death incarnate. He could very easily take your life if he so desired and he was making that very clear. He cared not whether you lived or died but only if your presence benefitted him in some manner. Your life was inconsequential. 
“Very few people meet my standards but you are very lucky, I have a rather refined palette and it just so happens you meet said standards. So, I would like to propose a business arrangement. You will be my sole donor and keep those pretty lips sealed about everything you have witnessed tonight and in turn, you get to keep your life.”
“And if I don’t agree?” You dared to ask. 
A sneer marred his perfect face, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him in his blood-red eyes. 
“Then your pathetic human life ends right here, right now.” He said, his hand slipping down your jaw to loosely wrap around your throat. He could feel your pulse steadily thumping against his hand causing his mouth to involuntarily pool with saliva, hunger twisting in his gut. 
Your breath hitched, fear slicing down your spine like a violent chill. You knew you only had one choice, and that was to appease the monster that sat beside you because he was far less frightening than the unknown, than the certain embrace of death that waited at every corner. 
When fear rules your life, you have no choice. There is only ever one option. 
“I agree,” Your voice trembled as you swallowed uncomfortably under his grasp. “I’ll be your donor.” 
“Splendid.” He said with a grin, his canines glinting under the light. 
“Can I…can I please go home now?” You asked, clasping your trembling hands together to try and still their shaking. 
“No, there are a few more fine details we have to iron out,” He said, his index finger lightly tapping your chin, “Firstly, I expect you to maintain a healthy lifestyle and that means no alcohol within a twenty-four hour period before we meet and certainly no smoking it’s a dirty and disgusting habit.”
You nodded slowly, trying your best to avoid looking into his piercing red gaze. 
“Try your best to have a healthy diet as well, the junk you humans gorge yourselves on taints your flavor, it’s unbearably sweet.” He said with a wrinkle of his nose in disgust. “I will compensate you for your efforts and your donations, once I’ve deemed you satisfactory, of course,” 
“I think that about covers it. And when I call upon you I expect your presence. Do we understand one another?” He asked with a tilt of his head. 
Your throat was far too tight, your eyes burning with unshed tears as you weakly nodded in agreement. 
“Very good,” He hummed before leaning back into the couch and soundly tapping the top of his thigh, “come, pet.” 
You sat still, your body frozen in shock as you were unsure if you had heard him correctly. 
“Well?” He raised his eyebrow expectantly. 
“I…I don’t think that, um-”
“Are you going to keep babbling and test my patience, or are you going to be a good little pet and do as I say?” He interjected and immediately you remembered the phantom feeling of his hand on your throat, the light grip that screamed threat. 
You awkwardly shuffled on your knees across the couch and hesitantly settled your legs on either side of him, hovering so that your weight did not rest on his lap. In response, he firmly gripped your hips and harshly pulled you down onto him, pressing you directly against him in a way that sent heat rushing beneath your skin despite the evident chill that emanated from his body. 
You could see his fangs even clearer now. They had become longer than before, the sharpened points dragging along the flushed skin of his plump lower lip. You were terrified by the thought of them piercing your thin flesh. What if they punctured your jugular and you bled out to death? What if he had just been playing with his food this entire time, instilling a false hope of survival in you just to watch with murderous glee as you realized you were meant to die the entire time as he drained the life out of you? 
And then what? The void of inevitable nothingness? The abyss of the afterlife? You were spiraling now, you could feel it in the way your chest constricted and your breaths came out in panicked, short huffs. 
A soft, wet, stroke against your throat pulled you from your frightening thoughts. As your vision cleared you realized that he had settled back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his tongue gently and steadily lapping at your skin. Despite your embarrassment, you could feel your body slowly relaxing and melting against him. It felt like you were being shot up with a tranquilizer, your muscles going weak from his ministrations as the skin of your neck went numb.  
And within seconds his fangs were sinking through your flesh, easy and smooth. You jolted in response, a cry of pain leaving you as your fingers curled into the silk of his shirt while your body subconsciously leaned away, trying to escape the sudden painful stimulus. 
In response, you could feel Jin’s arms tighten around your back and harshly pull you flat against his chest with an animalistic growl, one that immediately paralyzed you with fear. 
The vampire beneath you was enraptured, completely lost in the feeding frenzy as rivers of blood flowed freely past his plump lips and poured down his throat. Your scent had been seductive, but your taste? It was better than any wine, better than ambrosia and nectar, it was addictive. So addictive he was unsure if he would be able to stop but at the same time aware he could not kill you because the rest of his immortal existence would be utter hell if he were unable to get another hit. 
Kim Seokjin had a refined palette and high standards and few people met his expectations. But you? You were complete and utter perfection. And he deserved perfection. 
His grip was too hard, unrelenting, crushing you against him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked your spine by accident. It was like he was afraid to release you, afraid that there was a chance you would be able to escape him, the apex predator. 
But these thoughts were all uselessly whimpered in the back of your mind because the rest of your brain was completely flooded with euphoria. You had never felt so warm and tingly despite his cool hands in your entire life. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, the only thing keeping you grounded in existence was his tight hold. And there were other feelings as well, feelings you would have been ashamed of had your inhibitions not completely disappeared. Feelings that had your thighs clenching on either side of his waist, your heart beating pathetically fast, your pupils dilating, and your limp body helplessly rocking against him with his hands guiding and encouraging you. 
This was completely out of character for you. You didn’t climb into random men's laps and writhe against them eagerly like you were in heat. That had never been who you were, but the position you were in now clearly said otherwise. 
You were growing lightheaded, not only from arousal and euphoria but from blood loss as well. You weakly pushed at his chest, your innate desire to survive prevailing over the pleasure that had relaxed your muscles. 
“Jin, please,” You whimpered, struggling to speak. 
The vampire didn’t respond or relent, his arms still wrapped around you like a vice. In desperation you wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at the roots. The pull certainly took him off guard, his fangs sliding free from your throat and his perfect lips parting to release a startled moan. 
His eyes were half-lidded but his red irises still burned brightly under the dim lighting, a perfect match for the blood that stained his lips and chin. He said nothing at that moment and from what very little you knew about him you could conclude that it was not often that he was at a loss for words. 
Warmth trickled down your neck, rivulets of blood still flowing freely now without him there to catch them and that seemed to snap him back to attention. He slowly leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with you until he was level with your throat once more, his tongue darting out to lick up the trails of blood before tracing over the puncture wounds he had left behind. 
Your hold on his shoulders did nothing to dissuade him, in fact, he quite enjoyed your weak attempts to keep him at an arm's length. Humans were so fragile, so weak, and he enjoyed that.  
“Relax,” He breathed, “We have a deal, remember? It would be a waste to drain you dry in one night.”
“And how do I know you don’t just like to play with your food?” You asked. 
“You don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it, pet.” He smirked, tapping your chin with his finger. 
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“Let’s just say your sample was more than satisfactory, I have no reason to take back my word just yet.”
Yet. And yet, he was actually letting you go. 
“I’ll see to it that you make it home safely,” He began. But before he could finish speaking you were eagerly sliding off of his lap. 
His hands caught your waist easily, one holding you steady and the other firmly grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing you to look him in his eyes. 
“Remember, I call, you answer. As long as you abide by my rules we won’t have a problem.”
You nodded quickly, his words barely registering in your brain as your body took control. You would agree to anything that would keep you alive.
“Don’t disappoint me.” 
~~~~~~
Days had passed since that night at Blood Sugar, days where Jin had not tried to contact you, days that you spent isolated in your house - a wave of agoraphobia so strong that the thought of passing a threshold frightened you to the bone which was beyond ironic considering your situation. But those days also led to you trying to convince yourself it had all been a bad dream. 
If the encounter at Blood Sugar had in fact been real, you had little to show for it. The skin of your throat was smooth and untouched despite the fangs that you were certain had torn through it like paper. The only parting gift you had was the urge to sleep for days, a splitting headache, and a touch of soreness around your ribs where you were sure his arms had once restrained you. 
Pretending it hadn’t happened was easier on your mind. Your whole world had been turned upside down and the monsters you once thought to be the stuff of stories had been pulled from the shadows and abruptly thrust into the light. It was easier to pretend it was a dream. But you couldn’t shake those blood-red eyes from your memories nor the show of pure strength that had been demonstrated against Junghee - her once perfect face that was so easily disfigured by the elder vampire. 
You were afraid of death and the realization that it actually lurked at every eerie corner and you had sat in its lap like a contented house cat was enough to fry the connections in your brain. 
And you could only pretend for so long. You could only ignore reality for so long. 
It had been three weeks since you had seen him when he finally confirmed his existence in the form of a simple text. 
“Hungry, you know where to find me.” 
And that made your blood run cold. It was time to finally face reality, you had actually made a deal with a vampire and now he was cashing in on your promise. It was donate or die. 
And in an absolute panic, you made a terrible decision. You placed your phone face down and retreated beneath your blankets like a small child hiding from the boogeyman. 
Your phone did not cease to remind you that you had made a bad decision. The messages started sporadically - spread out throughout the hour. But Jin’s impatience grew as did the texts and calls. The eerie silence of your bedroom filled with a continuous buzzing as your phone continued to vibrate until you couldn’t take it anymore and without looking at a single message you shut down your phone. But that only brought temporary relief. 
You were begrudgingly pulled from the safety of your bed that day for an inspection your landlord had scheduled two days prior. There was no getting out of it and in your mind, it was a welcome distraction from the spiraling anxiety you felt when you thought about your powered-down phone. 
You had no way of knowing that their presence would only worsen the problem that you had created. 
You were generally a quiet person that kept to yourself around strangers, especially strangers that had a say in whether you continued living in your home or not. You practically stuck yourself to the walls as she inspected your home, and while your landlord was not necessarily a mean woman she wasn’t very chatty. You two got along in those regards. 
You were able to breathe when she gave you an awkward, tight-lipped smile, waved, and closed the door behind her. 
As soon as she was gone you rushed back into your bedroom and just barely pulled your curtains aside to peer out your window and watch her retreat. But when you did look out that window you felt your blood run cold. She was still there, standing on the walkway, and directly in front of her was him. It was twilight out, the sun still desperately trying to cling to a purple and ochre colored sky. It was safe for him to be out. He was giving her a charming smile, one that anyone would fall over at the sight of. You could see him laugh and then say a few words but you were too far away to make out what they were. And then to your utmost horror, she walked away and he made his way up the front steps. 
You were frozen, your muscles tense, and refused to move. You held your breath as you listened. There was no way that he could get in, you hadn’t given him permission. But all of your hope washed out of you when you heard the front door’s knob turn and the soft click of it leaving the frame. There were a few light steps and then the door shut once more. 
He was inside the house. 
You felt absolutely helpless as all you could do was wait for him to find you. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you were cornered. 
It was only a matter of seconds before he did find you, a stern and angry expression clear on his face as he rounded the banister and the stairs and stood right outside the door frame of your room. His eyes were different now, they weren’t the vibrant red that you remembered. They were a deep burgundy now, almost black as they stared back at you with intensity. You couldn’t even make out the difference between his pupils and his irises. It was a bottomless, dark gaze. 
“How did you get in?” You asked, the words rushing out of you to your own surprise. 
One of his dark brows quirked, whether it was in surprise or irritation you did not know. 
“Elaine let me in,” He said with a stomach-turning grin. 
Your landlord. She technically owned the house, she could let him in even if you didn’t invite him. 
“I thought I made myself clear when we spoke, did I not?” He asked rhetorically, “I call, you answer, I feed, you keep your life. What part of that did your little human brain not comprehend?” 
“You called me?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“My phone died-”
“Don’t make me repeat myself!” He snapped, his voice shockingly loud and incomposed. 
You flinched back against the wall as he finally entered your room only to stop dead in his tracks not more than five feet away. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his fangs descended on instinct. 
The two of you stood there, both staring at each other and refusing to move, waiting for the other to act first. 
Jin was the one to break the stalemate. 
“You’re on your period.” 
Your eyes widened in embarrassment, warmth radiating beneath your skin in response. He could smell it, that was the only explanation and that was a mortifying thought that had you pressing your thighs together, tight and closed. 
He looked shaken, frazzled, and incredibly unlike himself. His rage was forgotten, his hunger controlling him. He was gripping the footboard of your bed, the skin of his knuckles stretched taut as he held onto it like he was keeping himself grounded. 
“I want a taste,” He said, staring you down without a single blink. 
It took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said, and as soon as you connected the dots you were anchoring yourself to the wall and vehemently shaking your head. 
“No, no way!” 
“Yes,”
“No! That’s messy and gross and I never agreed to do anything like that with you!
“I’m hungry,” He hissed, “And you expect me to just leave when you smell like fucking heaven?”
“Yes, because everything about this is crazy! I don’t know you, I never wanted to find you and now I’m stuck with you until you ultimately decide to kill me so I’m sorry that you’re hungry but it’s not even my problem in the first place!” 
That was the one upside to being on your period, the influx of hormones allowed you to become confrontational. 
“I’ll pay you double for a feed directly from the source,” He said with gritted teeth. 
Jin was never one to bargain, usually he would leave a deal with far more than the other party. But this was something he refused to pass up. Vampires, very often, had little to no inhibitions especially when it came to sex. Sex was often a co-occurrence with feeding, and menstruation was the epitome of that. He didn’t expect a pathetic little human like you to understand. You were fettered by mortal concepts that had forced you to believe you were to be a social pariah during that time, that it was “gross,” as you had said. Little did you know you were considered a delicacy in his world, ripe for the taking. And he knew how delicious you were when he fed from the vein, his mouth watered at the thought of what it would be like now. 
Your silence to his proposition only frustrated him even more. 
“Do you know how many people would die to be in your position right now? I’ve had women beg to be on their knees for me and I’m offering to pay you to do the opposite.”
You were sure that he was telling the truth because he certainly was the most breathtaking man you had ever seen in your entire life. But what confused you was why he didn’t just throw you down and do as he pleased. He was bigger than you, stronger than you, and far faster than you. If he wanted it as badly as he claimed, why was he bargaining with you? You could only assume it was the lingering effects of the era he had lived in. While he was an asshole, perhaps he took no joy in forcing himself on a woman in that manner.
And then there was the money. Rent wasn’t cheap, that was for sure. And not many people could say that they were paid to be pleasured. It wasn’t a terrible offer, and the last thing you wanted to do was displease a vampire that could kill you and had threatened to do so before.
Shit. 
“You wont hurt me?” You asked, your voice wavered. 
“Quite the opposite,” He smirked. He knew that he had won. 
A gasp of surprise parted your lips as he closed the distance between you, moving so fast that a gust of wind whipped up ruffling your hair and sending loose pages of paper tumbling from your desk. Your heart stuttered in fright, every minute you spent with him only served as a reminder of how dangerous he was. This arrangement you had with him was dangerous, you were toeing the line between life and death and that thought made your stomach turn in unease. He was a vampire, an apex predator, a creature that you had stopped believing in long ago, but also the undead embodiment of death. The very thing you feared the most. All it would take is one moment of frenzy, a lack of control and you would be left to bleed out in your sheets with no one to come and find your remains for weeks to pass. 
You didn’t want to die, but you knew he wouldn’t let you live. 
The touch of his cold fingers to your waist brought you back to him as he tugged you toward your bed, pressing you down onto the sheets before moving over you like an animal on the hunt. His eyes were pitch black, the veins beneath them prominent, and his fangs dangerously grazed his plump lips. He looked like a fallen angel, like Lucifer himself, the most beautiful outcast of them all. 
An involuntary cry of fright left you as he moved impossibly fast once more, his face now level with the side of your head, the tip of his nose just barely brushing over your cheek as he chuckled. Even his breath was frigid. 
“You’re nervous,” He hummed in delight, “Careful now, we wouldn’t want your heart to stop, would we?” 
He could feel the violent, rapid thumps of your heart where his chest was pressed against yours. It had been a long time since he had had a human like this, oftentimes he found it too annoying. They were fragile creatures and having to restrain himself was rather inconvenient, but he preferred his partners to be responsive when he had his way with them, unlike some of his kind who couldn’t care either way. Was it still necrophilia if both parties were technically dead? 
And while your heart was making itself known, you could feel nothing in response. His heart didn’t beat like yours, it had gone silent long ago and that thought only reminded you of just how wrong this entire thing was. He was dead, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around how he also seemed so very alive and while that scared you deeply, it also ignited a disturbing thought within you. But that thought was quickly halted when he noticed your lack of attention on him. 
He hated that your attention wasn’t on him. 
An annoyed growl rumbled in his throat as he moved back, quickly going down the length of your body and ripping your shorts down your legs, exposing you to the cold air. 
“Jin wait-” It felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs as he ignored you, plunging his face directly in between your thighs. 
He was unlike any of the partners you had had before. He did not take his time even though he evidently had plenty of it. He didn’t warm you up with gentle words, pleasing touches, or lingering kisses. Instead, he was absolutely ravenous. It was just like he said, he was hungry. But you, on the other hand, had not been prepared in the slightest for how sensitive you would be. 
You could only whine in discomfort as you tried to clench your thighs closed, one hand coming down to push at his shoulder. Your actions were completely useless, no matter how much force you could use it was like pushing against a concrete wall - he was immovable. 
You could feel him growl in annoyance which only sent a shock throughout your body, your hips twitching and your shoulder blades digging into the mattress. His fingers were harshly pressing against your thighs, forcing them open wider and hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could get impossibly closer to you. 
“Too - too much!” You barely managed to get the words out, your body jolting from sharp bursts of pleasure. 
“Be a good pet and take it for me,” He crooned, parting from you for a mere moment to look up at you - his bright crimson eyes cutting through the darkness that had steadily filled the room. “I thought you said you would do anything to keep your life?”
You couldn’t explain the feeling that his words gave you, but the shame that lingered was recognizable. Shame that enduring pleasure to ensure your survival was an addictive cocktail of emotions. 
You couldn’t even form a response in time before he returned back to his feeding, his soft lips and firm tongue caressing you in a way that made you realize he was actively trying to make you feel good instead of solely focusing on gorging himself on your blood. You had no way of knowing that that just made the feed all the more enjoyable, the rush of hormones in your body only adding to the flavor. It was a flavor he already knew he was addicted to and while he was reluctant to admit it to himself, it was a flavor he could not live without. 
And with each feed there were more problems to come. While he knew his blood, saliva, and venom were incredibly intoxicating to your weakened human state - he underestimated the effect you would have on him. With all of the hormones his bite coaxed out of you there was one pesky one that affected him: oxytocin. It was a bonding hormone, one that fostered a relationship between feeder and donator which was why so many vampires rarely fed from the same human more than once typically preferring to drain the body dry and dump it anywhere to rot. 
He was willingly making himself vulnerable to you all in order to get another fix, another hit of your blood. And the worst part was, he didn’t mind. 
“Jin!” You cried. 
He was disgusted with himself, disgusted by the way his body shuddered and was aflame with tingles at the mere moan of his name rolling off of your lips. It was nothing special, countless others had done it before you, but he couldn’t understand why it was you. Why were you special? 
He could blame it on the damn hormone bond all he wanted, but this was only the second feed which meant, to his utmost horror, it was him. His interest in you, a human, was more than just superficial desire. 
Oh, how far he had fallen. 
He smelled your salty tears and he could even see the gleam of them as they rolled down the curves of your cheeks as your hips pitched forward, broken whimpers wracking your body that only served to drive him crazier. He could drown in you and it still wouldn’t be enough. 
And as soon as all of the tension within you snapped he was digging his fangs into the meat of your thigh, fresh, hot blood rushing over his tongue and down his throat. The blend was intoxicating for not only him but for you as well - the bite secreting venom that doubled the effects of all of his efforts that lit your brain and body on fire. You could become addicted to him just as easily as he was to you because that feeling, that feeling was indescribable and would never be able to be replicated by anyone but him. Just as he was chasing you for his fix, you could easily see yourself doing the same. 
When you came too, you were startled by the gentle touch of his tongue to the puncture wounds on your thigh. It soothed over the cuts rhythmically, urging the skin to sew itself back together again. And while he worked, he stared. Bright, crimson red eyes were trained on you. His gaze dark and dangerous. Your body that had once been limp and relaxed immediately tensed once more. The knowledge that a predator was nestled into your lap was enough to reignite fear in your chest. You feared that the slightest twitch or breath would signal for him to lunge again, but this time the outcome would not be so pleasurable for you. 
But Jin was a man of his word. You didn’t die that night and your bank account was fed in due course. 
This continued for the next six days. Whereas before it seemed like the vampire was able to abstain from feeding for as long as he wished, he had now become ensnared by a ravenous, bottomless hunger. And that was all the more frightening. But what was even more frightening was the way he began to change. 
He was still rude, cold, and dominating. But he had become ever present. His closeness could be described as suffocating. The only solitude you could find was in the daylight, but the minute the sun began to set he was back and hungrier than before. And after the…feeding, he would linger. He would touch you more often, his words still snarky but lacking their usual bite. It was like he was becoming comfortable around you. He was still insufferable, but undeniably comfortable. 
It was that comfortability that encouraged you to entertain that dark thought you had tried to smother before. Your ever present fear of death could easily be solved, the answer to your problem mere inches away from you. You understood the gravity of the situation, what it would mean to become something like him. But you couldn’t deny the truth that you could live with ending the lives of others if it meant you could sustain your own. You didn’t want to die, you couldn’t fathom dying, and you had an undead man at your disposal. If he was willing. 
It was after your seventh session together that you decided to finally ask him. His cherry red lips were pressed against your throat, swallowing every last drop of blood that slid down your skin. Your neck stung and your body thrummed with ecstasy, your fingers cupping the back of his head on reflex - moving without your permission. 
“Jin?” You asked. 
He hummed in response, visibly enthralled by the feed but letting you know he was listening anyway. 
“I want to be like you,” You whispered. 
A slick pop echoed in the room, his fangs pulled from your neck and retracted into his mouth, disappearing from sight. His eyes narrowed, his dark brows drawing together in confusion and distaste. 
“No,” He simply said, retreating to the foot of your bed. 
“Why not?” 
“Because you would be useless to me, that’s why. What good is a donor that’s dead?” He scoffed. 
You couldn’t deny the ache you felt in your chest, the sting that “useless” struck against your heart. 
“You’re…you’re going to grow tired of me eventually. I’ll get old, I won’t taste as good anymore. Then, I’ll be useless.”
“Oh, I plan to savor every last drop that you can offer. I won’t let you go to waste like that, you are mine after all.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean? You’ll just kill me before I go bad? Put me out of my misery before I can rot? I’m a fucking human being not a piece of meat!” You yelled, angrily standing up from your bed. 
You expected him to become enraged, to become violent. But if anything he was deathly calm, still, and silent. 
“Wouldn’t that be a kindness,” he stood from the bed, now towering over you, “To not have to grow older, to be in pain? To just stop here where you’re perfect, when you’re young and beautiful?” He said with a soft caress down your cheek. 
“But you could give me what I want,” You pleaded, “You would never have to see me again, I could go far away and I wouldn’t be your problem anymore.”
A frown pulled at his lips, frustration falling over his features, “It’s not as simple as that. You would be bound to me, there are rules about these things.” 
“Rules? Like laws, is there someone in charge of you?”
“Don’t bring that Twilight bullshit into this,” He hissed, running his hands through his hair in what appeared to be distress. 
“Then I don’t understand, why can’t you do this for me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked! I’ve given you everything you wanted so that I could stay alive! Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to die!”
“Because you don’t understand what you’re asking for!” He snapped. 
In that moment, he was brought back to that fateful day all those years ago. Yoongi had warned him, he had tried to stop him and he hadn’t listened. And now, he was being faced with a painful reminder of his naivety and arrogance when he stared back at you. Jin never regretted becoming a vampire. He never regretted his inability to grow old or the only way he was able to satiate his hunger. He enjoyed it. But if there was anything he didn’t enjoy, it was being under the control of someone else. 
“We would be connected for the rest of eternity. Anything I ask of you, you have to do. You can’t deny me even if you tried. And even if you ran, you would eventually come back whether you wanted to or not. I would be your sire, your creator, you couldn’t hurt me no matter how badly you want to. We would be stuck together, do you understand?” 
If there was anything he was afraid of, which he would never admit to, it would be having to rely on someone like that. It would be loving you, obsessively loving you like he felt the desire to creep over him. While he refused to admit it, all of those feeds had done their toll. He could feel the tugs of a weak bond forming between you - begging to be strengthened by a little of his own blood and a swift death. If you stayed human, he could save you from the fate he suffered through. And if he killed you, then no one else could have you. It was insane, but to him it was incredibly logical. 
You had been quiet for quite some time, your face pensive before you finally spoke. 
“That doesn’t sound all that different from our current arrangement.” 
“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” He yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him and flinging it across the room in a show of strength and anger. So this was what Yoongi felt like. 
“You’ve exhausted your usefulness to me,” He spat in rage, “Good luck defending yourself on your own.” 
And just like that, he was gone. The only remainder of his presence was the broken chair that lay in pieces on the ground and the huge dent in the plaster from where it had hit. 
You couldn’t stop the sudden wave of tears that poured down your face. That had been your only way to cheat death, and he wouldn’t give it to you after you had given him every piece of yourself that he had asked for. 
The silence was loud, your sniffles and your pounding heart painfully apparent. But what was even more apparent, was the sense of paranoia steadily creeping over you. 
What did you have to defend yourself from now that he was gone? 
~~~~~~~
Jin was starving. 
Even he was not so thick-headed that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He was throwing a temper tantrum. 
He had left you for a month now in what was supposed to be a break that would teach you a lesson. You weren’t allowed to make demands from him, you weren’t the one in control. But if there was anything he had learned from his pathetic plan, it was that you were very much in control. 
You had managed to burrow your way into his unwilling, stone cold heart. A feat that no one in his human and vampiric life had managed to do. The very thought itself made his stomach turn. He had never had to depend on anyone else, he never wanted commitment in that sense. Yet here he was yearning for you, a pathetic little hermit. His pathetic little hermit. 
He let out an audible groan, collapsing back against one of the velvet couches in the club. The blue and red lights flashed over his face, his stomach rumbled in pain. He had thought it would only take a week for you to break, just a few days before you apologized and begged for him to come back. But he had greatly underestimated you. 
It had been a month and he hadn’t fed. Everyone else paled in comparison, their blood sitting on his tongue like spoiled milk; he couldn’t even manage to swallow a drop. And that was completely his fault. This was why he was warned not to keep feeding from the same source. You were bonded now and he was suffering because of it. 
He had never felt so backed into a corner before. And the fact that it was all because of a human was just salt in the wound. He thought that time would sever the bond but in reality, distance had just made it grow stronger. 
Even now he was certain that he could smell your scent sifting through the hazy air, it’s tendrils beckoning him to come find you. 
It was the prick of his fangs against his lip and the sudden pool of saliva flooding his mouth that made him realize it was anything but a fantasy. You were there. A wave of satisfaction rolled over him, you had broken first in a stalemate that you were unaware of. He had won. But any excitement he felt about his win was quickly thwarted when he was reminded of the present danger. You, who smelled so heavenly, had once more crawled into a nest of vampires. 
He quickly lurched to his feet, cutting through the crowds of vampires and humans alike in order to find you. You were in the most dangerous spot in Briar Hills and he could not protect you. His abstinence had greatly weakened him, he could only hope that no one else would be aware of that. He was the eldest there and he was in charge, that should be enough to keep everyone else away from you. 
Well, all except one. 
You hadn’t even seen her coming, her or her “friends.” You had just barely managed to step foot inside the bunker before she was ripping you back outside, moving so quickly that your head was spinning and your neck burned with whiplash. 
You moaned in pain, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other dug into the damp earth in an attempt to ground yourself from the violent pounding that vibrated all throughout your head. At first you were utterly dumbstruck, confused as to what exactly happened. But the swift kick of a pointy shoe to your ribs rolled you onto your back and allowed you to be faced with four pairs of glowing red eyes. 
The pain in your head was quickly overshadowed by the hot shooting pain in your ribs. Your spinning head could just barely register the loud crack that had sounded when you were kicked. What looked to be an effortless, swift strike from her was enough to break your ribs. 
“Hello sweetheart,” A familiar, sickeningly sweet voice crooned. 
It was her, that vampire from a month ago. The one that Jin had saved you from. 
Cold shocks ran through your body as you panted, grabbing your side as you tried to scoot away. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” She teased, grabbing you by your ankle and roughly pulling you back. Another sickening pop echoed through the night as a violent scream tore its way free from your throat. 
“Now, I’m not letting you get away from me so easily this time. You really pissed me off, and now you’re going to give me what I want.” 
You had no time to react and nowhere to run to. She and her friends descended on you like a pack of hungry vultures. They ripped at clothing and jostled you around like a toy they didn’t want to share. And all four of them dug into you. With Jin, there had been little to no pain. But this was the worst pain of your life. You could feel teeth digging into you, ruthlessly cutting through your flesh and ripping it apart. Hot, thick blood was pouring out of your wounds, drenching your skin and your clothes in an instant. 
There was nothing you could do but scream, cry, and shake. 
You were helpless and soon you were going to die. You had no doubt that they had every intention to bleed you dry. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Your greatest fear was suddenly becoming a reality and there was absolutely nothing that you could do about it. Death spared no one, especially you. 
And for a moment you thought that death really had come for you because the pain was suddenly wrenched away. 
You laid there, groaning in pain as you listened to what was happening. You could hear her low, sultry voice, the sounds of hits landing, and a deep, rumbling growl that shook you to your very core. It wasn’t death, but it was a close second. Jin had found you. 
You forced yourself to open your eyes and look, you struggled to turn your head but when you did your heart dropped. Half of her group collapsed, in various states of injury. But Jin was the worst. He was barely managing to stand and he looked so weak. His cheeks were gaunt compared to the last time you had seen him, the veins beneath his eyes prominent and exposed. But worse of all, he was coated in his own blood. It stuck to him like an oil spill, pouring from wounds that were trying to heal themselves albeit very slowly. He wasn’t going to make it out of this; he was too hurt, too weak, too hungry, and outnumbered. 
“I knew it,” Junghee giggled, her voice pitchy with murderous glee. “I could smell you all over her, you bonded with her!” 
Jin said nothing. He wobbled, his chest rose and fell rapidly with angered breaths. 
“Oh, how far you’ve fallen, Jin,” She sneered, “So high and mighty and look at you now. You’re no better than the rest of us - in fact you’re weaker than us! I’m so sick and tired of living under you and your rules, I think it’s time someone replaces that coven of yours. It’s time for a new jurisdiction.” 
“I’ll give you one chance to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness,” He said with a deathly calm voice. 
“I’m going to rip you apart and burn the pieces. And when I’m finished with you, I’m going to drain your little pet dry.” She said with a cocky grin. 
Jin hummed in response, his head slightly tilting back as he thought. His eyes seemed to glow even more intensely in the dark, a ring of light shining around his irises as he spoke. 
“That’s an interesting idea. Tear each other apart.” 
You stared in shock as they immediately obeyed his command. It was mind-control, he could compel individuals to do his bidding. How many times had he used it on you and you had gone on unaware of it? 
All four of them turned on one another, rushing at each other with abandon. It looked like they were marionettes, like someone else was controlling their limbs and forcing them to do as he commanded. You watched as the four of them attacked each other, clawing at their friends and prying their limbs from their bodies. The sounds were horrific. You could hear them screaming, crying, gurgling, and begging for it to end as they tortured one another. Black blood sprayed and stained their hands and faces as they ripped each other apart limb by limb. 
Your stomach rolled at the sight, your wounds flashed hot with pain, and your ribs and ankle throbbed in sympathy as they violently mutilated each other until they couldn’t reach one another anymore - their limbs dismembered and useless. 
You choked down the bile that threatened to escape your throat. They had tried to kill you, they were getting what they deserved. They were going to do the same to you and Jin.
Jin. 
You caught sight of the vampire a few feet away from you. He had fallen to the ground after he had issued the command. His body was unnervingly still, his skin ashen and the sickliest pallor you had ever seen. He was dying, you were sure of it. That was something you had thought to be impossible for his kind but here he was proving you wrong. It was possible, but hard to do. 
You felt a surge of adrenaline wash over you. You couldn’t let him die, he was your one chance to avoid that very same fate. You needed him just as much as he needed you. If you could help him then he would owe you. You could get the immortality that you were desperate for. 
You cried out in pain as you rolled onto your side and crawled to him. Each inch you moved felt like you were being stabbed along the way. Your body was crying in protest but you were on a mission. 
When you finally closed the distance between you, you could breathe a sigh of relief. He was hurt badly, but he was still “alive,” if not barely. 
You grabbed him by his shoulders and slowly, painfully, dragged him into your lap. Your body threatened to crumble beneath his weight as you guided his head to the open wound on your neck. This was a risk, a really big risk. You were hurt badly and you had already lost so much blood, but you were sure that he would be able to stop. 
“Come on, Jin,” You encouraged him, cupping the back of his head with your hand, “Come on drink, you need to drink.” 
You felt a cool puff of breath on your neck, his nose slightly skimming over your pulse as the scent of blood pulled him out of unconsciousness. And as soon as he was awake, his predatory instincts took control. He lunged forward, wrapping you up in a vice like grip as he dug his fangs into the already open wound. 
You hissed but held still, allowing him to get his fill. He was scarily inhuman at that moment. Jin had fed from you many times, but he had never been like this before. Silent, overbearing, and territorial. 
Your eyes began to flutter, they were feeling incredibly heavy and it was becoming hard to keep them open. You had lost too much blood, you were still losing too much blood. 
“Jin,” You croaked, “You need to stop.” 
He ignored you and continued drinking, only digging his fangs in harder to force more blood from your throat. 
“Jin please stop, please,” You cried, “You’re going to kill me!”
When you realized he wasn’t responding, that he was too enthralled by the feeding frenzy, you began to fight. You tugged at his hair, pushed at his shoulders, kicked at him with your good leg but it all was for nothing. 
He let out an animalistic growl, squeezing you tighter before roughly shoving you to the ground and pinning your wrists above your head. He groaned in delight as your fighting ceased, as your blood flowed more easily into his waiting mouth. 
You were fading fast, your visions steadily beginning to black out around the edges. He was going to kill you, and just like before there was nothing you could do about it. You were utterly helpless. 
Your own desires would be your downfall. Just like Icarus, you had flown too close to the sun. 
~~~~~~~
When Jin came to, he was confused. 
He couldn’t remember anything after he had ordered Junghee and her coven to dismember one another. But when he became aware, he quickly figured out what had happened. Their corpses were sprawled about, their limbs still occasionally twitching. 
And you were there, scarily still in his arms with the remnants of your blood on his lips. 
He didn’t expect a wave of grief to wash over him. He hadn’t felt that even when his own family died or when he watched them mourn the loss of a son that never truly perished. But the sight of you, your broken body limp in his arms was enough to force a choked sob out of him. It was painful, it was complete and utter despair. 
It was in that moment that he realized he did love you. In some horrific twist of fate, he loved you. He once thought that he would be able to kill you, then no one else could have you. But he didn’t anticipate the pain that it would cause him. 
A soft, weak flutter halted all grief he felt. It was your heart. Your little human heart was still trying to beat. You could still be saved. 
That was how he ended up here, with the only person he knew that could fix you. 
“So, this is what you’ve been doing with all your free time.” Namjoon hummed, checking over your vitals. 
Jin stayed quiet, nervously clenching and unclenching his fingers. At that moment, he understood what Yoongi went through. If he believed in karma, which he didn’t, he would have been able to appreciate it. This was what he deserved after what he put Yoongi and the fledgling through. But Jin was far more determined to keep you human than his “brother” ever was. 
But it was undeniable that he could finally understand him. He finally knew what Yoongi was trying to protect him from all those years ago. 
“Junghee really did a number on her. I’ve given her an awful lot of my blood to heal her wounds. It would just take one quick break, Jin. You said it yourself, this is what she wanted.” He mused. 
“She’s my pet, nothing more. She’s useless to me as one of us, I want to make her last as long as I can.” He said with a warning glare.
“It’s useless, you know, lying to me. I could smell it on you the second you came through the door. You bonded with her, she’s yours now. Do with her what you will, but she will join us soon. Whether it’s you or me, well that’s entirely up to her. But I have a feeling she would let any of us do it at this point.” 
“You wouldn’t-”
“Oh, but I would. Remember this, everything I do is for our family. You helped me with Yoongi, you understood then what I was trying to do. You can keep playing with her for a little longer, but she will join us. Don’t make me command you, Jin.” 
Jin’s back stiffened, that familiar tug in his brain was there. That feeling that he needed to fulfill his creator’s wishes. And so, he bought himself some time. 
“I don’t think it’s her you need to be worried about,” Jin said, that cocky edge to his voice back once more. 
“Oh really?” Namjoon asked, leaning forward in interest. 
“When was the last time you checked in on Hoseok?”
Namjoon’s brows furrowed in thought. Jin had got him, this was what he was good at - misdirection. 
“Hoseok too?” He mumbled to himself. “Don’t you find it odd that this is all happening now? Yoongi and the fledgling, you and your pet, Taehyung and the little human he keeps in his studio, and now Hoseok? How interesting.”
He knew about Taehyung? But he hadn’t said anything about Jimin or Jungkook. He didn’t know everything. He had two more bargaining chips to buy himself more time. 
“Watch over her, make sure she doesn’t hemorrhage. You’ve done a good thing, Jin. Thank you.” Namjoon said before briskly leaving the room - his office that now served as a hospital for you. 
He wasn’t so sure that he had done a good thing. He was paying for what he had done to Yoongi now, what would come to him next now that he sold out Hoseok. And what about Jungkook and Jimin, what would happen when he revealed their secrets as well. 
That was all he could think about as he waited for you to wake up. Namjoon’s blood was doing a thorough job. He was old and strong and because of that your body was mending itself incredibly quickly. 
The only thing he hated was that you smelled like him. It was Namjoon’s blood in your body and because of that you were practically emanating his scent. Your normal heavenly essence was murky in the haze of his creator’s and it would take some time for it to dissipate. He was going to have to live with it for the time being. For now, he needed to figure out how he was going to protect you from the fledgling and from Hoseok. One was hungry and the other was certainly going to be pissed with him. 
But if he could keep you like this for a little while longer it was worth it. 
Your heart monitor was starting to accelerate, the beeping became loud and frequent. You were awake. 
He slowly raised his head to look at you and he felt his stomach drop. You were giving him the thousand yard stare, your frail body tense on the mattress. You were utterly and completely frightened of him. 
Your name left his lips in a hushed whisper as he stood, moving closer to your bedside. You shrieked and huddled into the furthest corner that you could. 
“Stay away from me!” You yelled, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to block yourself off from him. 
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his tone the softest it had ever been, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Let me go, I want to leave. I don’t want to see you ever again, I want to go home!” You were rambling now, every frightened word running out of you with a gasp. 
“You can’t leave, it’s too late now.” He said apologetically. He had never apologized before. 
“I want to leave!” You screamed again, “You tried to kill me! You said you wouldn’t but you did! You lied, you’re a fucking liar!” 
“I’m in control now, that’s never going to happen again I swear.”
“You’re a fucking liar!” You screamed again, your words trailing off with a broken sob. 
He had felt grief when he thought he had killed you, but now he was experiencing heartbreak. His first, genuine heartbreak. He thought seeing your lifeless body was bad, but this, this was somehow worse. 
He was suddenly overcome with the urge to comfort you, to hold you. And so he tried. The second he picked you up you began to writhe, screaming obscenities at him and clawing at his skin. You were trying to do anything you could to get away from him.
The last time he had held you like this, held you this close, he had tried to kill you. Your body and mind were completely in survival mode now and you needed to get away from him. 
But he wouldn’t let you budge. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped you in a tight embrace, pinning your arms in between the two of you so that you couldn’t hurt yourself while trying to hurt him. All you could do was scream and cry and writhe but eventually your body went lax when you realized it was pointless. There was no escape. 
Your brush with death had only made you more frightened of it. You had met that dark, empty void and the void had stared back at you. What some might have found to be peaceful, you had found to be terrifying. And, as a result, you were terrified of Jin. He had brought you to that void and your body was certain he would escort you back. 
“I’m sorry,” He finally said, the words not burning him like he once thought they would for the longest time. “I’m sorry.” 
You sniffled as you limply laid in his hold. You could feel the soft touch of his lips against your cheeks, collecting your tears as they brushed by in the lightest of kisses. 
“Never again,” He mumbled, “I promise.” 
You whimpered once more, the word liar echoing in your mind. 
“I’ll give you what you want, I swear. You’ll never be that close to death again, I’ll keep you safe. Just give me time.” 
You slightly perked in interest. What you want…what you want. He’ll give you what you want. You tilted your head up at the same time he went to kiss your forehead, only for him to gently kiss you instead. He froze for a moment, still as a statue as he processed what he had done before he did it again, and again, and again. It was like he had discovered a new insatiable hunger that he couldn’t settle no matter how many times he tried. 
“I love you,” He admitted so softly against your lips that you thought you had imagined it. 
He loved you. He was going to give you what you wanted. You had almost died. He was a liar. Your mind was reeling. 
“No one else can have you, not even death can take you away from me; because you’re mine, remember?” 
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hells-ringleader · 21 days
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Here's why I still root for canon lucilith and why I'm hopeful:
🌹 luci still wears his wedding ring.
💍 luci misses his wife to the point he's depressed he never stopped loving her
💝 luci and lilith were canonly stated by vivzie to be "madly in love" And be compared to the addams family main couple, and were said to take turns in bed and in the relationship w being the dominant partner so even viv ships it no way she will just drop it like it's hot. Bruh she even stated they make cheesy pick up lines to each other and are a cheesy couple lol its beautiful she obviously loves then together so there HAS to be more context to why they are apart rn
🕊 the story would be better and not filled with endless bad parents especially bad moms. Pls no more Stella's. We do not need that.
🥂we actually never heard much about liliths side so don't mark her evil yet. We know literally nothing guys if the staffs smart they would give her a good reason to be on that beach . And not make her another bad mom with no morals. Pls
👰‍♀️🤵 luci deserves this. Literally they can reunite next reason. Maybe lilith will talk about everything and they will need to make up somehow. And probably work through the issues a lot. But a happy ending would be amazing for the two. Lilith is returning next season. It's basically confirmed now. So she will see him again. Pls reunite the love birds lol also he can be bi or pan still and be w her look up huntlow. It can happen. There's no reason this ship cannot still happen
🥰 this would actually be cuter than just another toxic mom. Give luci a good relationship.
😍even with issues they can work it out like any good couple, even if in therapy
🔥they literally been through too much together to just write them as toxic. There's more to this.
🧸the canon info from viv especially sold me on this ship. And the fact luci still wears the ring in every photo and screenshot. Always.
👑Viv even confirmed there relationship to be like "behind every great man is a greater wife" or something like that. Hell needs her to return. To be the queen again. Luci needs his queen again too.
None of this is set in stone obvs but you can't take lucilith outta my brain lol it'll be my fave always love me lovey dovey couples
191 notes · View notes
flowerandblood · 3 days
Text
The Knight & The Judge Epilogue
[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, handjob, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, swearing, mention of sexual assault, an accident with fatalities and trauma ]
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[ description: A few months pass since the events that changed his life, and his Esmeralda, despite her earlier decisions, chooses to continue taking care of Daeron. Aemond attends therapy, his condition improves and their bond gives him strength, still, however, he does not know, despite how much he loves her, what their relationship is. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, sexual tension, pathetic, devastated Aemond. ]
Author’s note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version “Esmeralda” is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.
Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight
Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
He had to clench his lips to keep anything more than grunts from coming out of them as he watched how, with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, he spread her slick folds wide open on his fat cock with loud slaps of skin against skin, his palms digging into the wonderfully soft structure of her hot buttocks, feeling her throbbing around him faster and faster.
He sighed when she cried out loudly as he added his hand between her thighs, his fingers finding her puffy clit, sore from previous caresses of his tongue, although they both tried not to make any noise knowing that Daeron was watching a movie downstairs, the treatments of his fingertips caused an involuntary whimper of delight to come from her lips.
"− no, baby − quiet − shhh, I know, we're almost there −" He murmured tenderly, leaning down, his hand sinking into her soft dark hair, pressing her face against the pillow, careful not to make it hard for her to breathe, wanting to muffle her moans.
"− grab my hand if you want me to stop −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, pounding into her so fast that he tilted his head back in pleasure, but her hand did not grab his wrist, her fingers tightened on the pillow on either side of her head instead, her fleshy walls began to clench around his cock, sucking him inside, he felt her moisture begin to run down his thighs with her helpless whine of relief.
"− thaat's it − thaat's it, babygirl − fuck −" He mumbled as he let go at last, panting hard, feeling his warm seed spill deep inside her, for a moment his mind was stunned with pleasure, his body trembled from the hot sensation that flowed in waves through his body, his hand let go of her hair and she turned her head to the side, breathing loudly.
"− are you all right? − I'm sorry, he really could hear us −" He whispered, leaning lower, laying on top of her gently, placing a tender, warm, wet kiss on her neck, stroking her bare shoulder with his broad hand.
"− I know − it's me who's sorry −" She muttered, he let his breath out loudly with a smirk, shaking his head, sinking his face into her fragrant hair.
"− do you need anything? − can we stay like this for a while? −" He asked, not wanting to slip out of her yet, just dreaming of taking a nap cuddled up against her naked body, missing her so much for the two days she hadn't been home with them.
"− yes − but we shouldn't leave him alone for too long −" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, agreeing with her.
"− will you stay overnight? −" He asked quietly, running his fingers up and down her naked body, feeling goosebumps appear in the places he touched.
"− yes −"
They returned to Dareon after several minutes, his younger brother accustomed to them disappearing occasionally to talk, watching quietly with contentment his favourite part of Star Wars.
"Have you discussed everything yet?" He asked lightly, putting his hand to the rustling popcorn, trying to get a full handful of it into his mouth, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled, sitting down next to him on the couch, watching his Esmeralda went to pour herself some water dressed in his black T-shirt and shorts.
He loved this view.
He scratched his cheek with his thumb trying not to think about the fact that at the mere memory of what he was doing to her just now he felt like taking her upstairs again.
"Yeah, buddy. All set." He grumbled, spreading himself out comfortably and sighing quietly, exhausted, their gazes meeting as she raised a glass of water to her lips and lowered her gaze, embarrassed and insecure. He swallowed loudly at the sight, feeling a squeeze in his heart.
It seemed to him that something was going on with her lately, she was sadder than usual and drifting away with her thoughts, on top of that recently she was the one who had been grabbing his hand and guiding it between her thighs, demanding his caresses. There was something desperate about it and although he had asked her many times if everything was okay, she always answered him that it was.
He knew he had no right to ask her anything.
They were not together and he would never have dared to suggest it, fearing rejection.
He kept telling her how much he loved her and he could see in her gaze, feel in her embrace and in the touch of her hand that she also had feelings for him, albeit complicated and painful ones.
His prosecutorial nature insisted in his mind that he should start investigating, that he should start following her, that perhaps someone was nagging her, her professor or a colleague, but fearing his intervention she did not want to tell him anything. He knew, however, that if she found out he was doing something behind her back she would not forgive him.
He couldn't help himself however, one day, while she and Daeron were sitting on the patio talking to each other by the sliding glass door, he went out to prepare the meat they were going to grill for lunch, according to their plan spending the afternoon in the garden. He came back because he had forgotten the tray, but stopped at the wall when he heard the question Daeron had asked her.
"Have you forgiven my brother? For what he did to you back then." He asked uncertainly, he heard her shift restlessly in her wicker chair, probably looking away to see if he was anywhere near them. She sighed quietly.
"I've done him wrong too. He's trying really hard. I know he's not like that every day. That I'm important to him and that he really cares about me." She said softly, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke the words.
He closed his eyes, feeling a tightness in his throat, swallowing with difficulty at the thought that he felt pain and relief at the same time, that she recognised his efforts, that she knew he wasn't lying when he spoke about how much he cared for her.
"I've been thinking about it a lot. About why he hurt you. And I think he did because he never shouted at me. He never got angry with me even when I cried for hours. I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too. Because he couldn't cope with it and our eldest brother didn't take care of him like he did me.
Before you showed up on the first day he was very afraid that you would be late or not come. That he would leave me with you and you would hurt me. I remember his hands were shaking when he had his coffee in the morning. He told me not to trust you and that if you just did something I didn't like, I should call him. I think it was all because I wanted to dance."
His brother muttered, and he just stood there stunned with his mouth wide open, breathing hard, feeling tears burning under his eyelids at the thought that he thought he was hiding everything that was going on inside him well, and Daeron had seen it all anyway, but as a child he couldn't comprehend what was really happening to him.
I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too.
He covered his face with his hand, stifling a sob at the thought that he thought he had just shouted at her or hit her, that he hadn't even assumed what had really happened between them.
He was horrified at how long she had not responded, and once he heard her voice he felt a piercing pain in his lower abdomen at the thought that she was crying too, unable to catch her breath.
"I...Daeron, this had and has nothing, nothing to do with you. This is our adult business, okay? It's very complicated." She muttered wearily, and he swallowed heavily, trying to calm his ragged breathing, clenching his eyelids tightly.
Whatever he would do, it would always come back to them.
"I heard him tell you he loved you. I know he said it to you because when I knocked on his room he said he was talking to you on the phone." Said his younger brother uncertainly, clearly trying to get to the point of starting this whole conversation and topic at all.
"Are you two going to be together?"
Silence.
Never before in his life had he been so afraid, never had he suffered so much, never had he felt so alone and desperate as when he waited for her answer.
"Don't you love him?" Daeron asked quietly after a moment, as if he was afraid his brother would accidentally hear them. "You can tell me, it's not a bad thing. I'll keep a secret."
He heard her sobbing, heard her uneven, loud breathing, the fact that she was falling apart, that he was the cause of her eternal heartbreak and suffering.
"I'm afraid to be with him. I'm afraid to name it. As long as I don't agree, he can't hit me again and yell at me. The distance makes me feel like I'm in control of the situation, that I can disappear at any time and not explain myself. That it won't hurt me when I bore him. Do you understand?" She asked him quietly, his brother swallowed loudly.
"Are you afraid of my brother?" He whispered frightened, heard her draw in the air loudly, sniffling.
"I'm scared of what he's doing to me. I think I'm getting addicted to him, like people get addicted to alcohol or drugs." She muttered, and he took a few steps back, feeling tear after tear run down his face.
He didn't run when he heard her rise from her seat as she entered the house, clearly wanting to go quickly to the bathroom, she jumped when she spotted him standing against the wall, her eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief and horror.
"Aemond." She mumbled, and he swallowed loudly and grunted, walking over to the countertop, getting back to work.
"The meat will be ready soon."
He heard her stand still, her breathing loud, unsure of what to do, understanding perfectly well that he'd heard everything they'd said.
She didn't love him, she was just addicted to him.
He thought dispassionately that he was like a stimulant that was destroying her life, not allowing her to live in another healthy relationship.
He heard her moving ahead after a while, locking herself in the toilet, heard her loud sobbing, his palms shaking all over as he cut the meat, tears one by one dripping onto the wooden board beneath his hands.
They spent the evening as they had planned, pretending nothing had happened, Daeron telling them about a new game he really wanted to play and a new cartoon he was watching.
In the night he locked himself sooner in his bedroom, feeling that he couldn't be around her, remorse and self-pity prevented him from breathing or functioning.
He shuddered, feeling the quick pounding of his heart as he heard the quiet creak of his door as usual an hour later, heard her footsteps, felt her body lay behind him on his bed, sliding up over his duvet, felt her hand on his stomach, clenched his eyelids as his cock immediately twitched aggressively.
They lay like that for a while, he could feel her warm breath on his neck, her breasts hidden behind his Tshirt snuggled into his back, her fingers trailing from his sternum to his lower abdomen making shivers run through him, he found with despair that he had become achingly hard from just her closeness.
"− I'm sorry −" She whispered finally, he shuddered all over and swallowed quietly as her soft, warm lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "− I didn't mean it −"
He did not reply.
He heard her trembling sigh, her body nestled into his from behind, the way he always used to do.
He felt a single, lonely tear run down the side of his face onto the pillow.
All he was able to manage was to breathe, his heart pounding like mad.
"− you have taken deep root in my heart − you grow in it like an oak tree in my garden full of flowers − and even though I did not want it, I have found cooling in its shade, shelter from the rain under its leaves, from its wood things are made that last −" She whispered and he felt his whole body tremble, he imagined her, her flower garden and himself.
A great, spreading tree.
"− this is not what my garden was supposed to be − I only wanted flowers in it − but now, when I look at this tree from the window of my house, at its thick trunk, its green, beautiful leaves in summer, yellow and red in autumn, I am glad that I let it grow −" She said softly, her lips again placed a kiss on his neck as her hand slid lower, a broken, helpless moan broke from his throat as he felt her fingers tighten on his swollen, aching manhood, squeezing him with sure up and down strokes.
"− I − mghmm −" He mumbled out, horrified by how pleasurable this was, by the fact that this might be the last time he would see her, by the fact that he no longer knew himself what she felt for him, what would be better for them, what he should want for himself, when all he desired was for her to simply be by his side.
He wanted her to take care of him.
Not out of revenge, not out of lust.
He needed her.
"− I know − easy − I want to take care of you −" She whispered tenderly, in the way he'd dreamed of since he'd met her, and he felt heat in his lower abdomen and heart, his hips involuntarily beginning to respond to her movements with rocking, his tip all swollen and sticky from his precum, pulsing in her embrace.
"− please − inside you −" He gasped out and she let go of him, letting him turn to face her, he grabbed her in his arms and pressed his face against her breasts hidden beneath his t-shirt. He lifted the material quickly above her thighs, sighing in relief, feeling that she wasn't wearing underwear, she threw her leg over his waist, the fat, pink head of his cock easily forced its way between her slick, hot folds.
"− f-fuck −" He cried out, tightening his fingers on her back, snuggling into her like a small, frightened child, pounding into her with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, seeking refuge deep inside her, in the only place where he felt safe.
"− I love you − I love you − I love you − please, don't leave me −" He mumbled into her chest, choking on his own tears, her fleshy muscles clenching against him at his words, sucking him inside, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture, he felt her fingers comb through his hair, cuddling him tighter into her, her lips placing a warm kiss on the top of his head.
"− it's too late for me anyway − I'll never be free of how much I want you −" She exhaled with a kind of relief, as if she'd been wanting to get it out of her for a long time, as if she'd finally come to terms with the fact that they were doomed to each other not because they'd decided to, but because, for some reason, they fit together like two parts of a whole, her hips responding to his pushes, his hand clamping down hard on her hot, soft buttocks, forcing her to let him in deeper, slamming into her so fast that he was no longer sliding out.
"− oh, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck −" He gasped out loud, for the first time being so vocal and helpless in bed, more so than when she was riding him, more so ever in his life, feeling that he no longer had the strength to pretend that he wasn't tired, that he wasn't disappointed, that he wasn't crying during the night when she wasn't next to him, that he was coping with the fact that he'd hurt the woman he'd loved so much the first day he'd really met her.
He felt her orgasm, her body arching back in shock at how intense the sensation was, soaking him wet, her palms clenching on his back, responding to his thrusts with the rocking of her hips for a moment longer, sweet, helpless moans of pleasure coming from her lips.
"− I want to have a family with you − to have children with you −" He muttered with relief as he felt the heat spill over his lower abdomen when he finally came inside her, delighted that she was letting him feel herself again, that he was deep inside her, inside his safe place, inside his home. He heard her sigh softly.
"− one day −"
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janeyseymour · 20 days
Note
A story where R is really self conscious about their mobility aid (a cane if possible). Maybe one of the middle schoolers says something rude. And mostly a lot of comfort from Mel
i hope this is good enough because i wrote it in between teaching a bunch of first graders and babysitting two little gremlins
Lean On Me
WC: ~2.5k
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You had finally decided to bite the bullet and get your knee replaced after months of agonizing pain with a little nudge from your wonderful wife. You had hoped it would be replaced and healed by the time the school year started up again, but unfortunately that was not the case. You weren’t able to get it replaced until the end of July, and with class being back in session at the end of August, you’re still using the cane and you’re under pretty strict restrictions.
“Maybe I should just take a month’s leave until I can walk without this damned thing,” you mutter to yourself as you’re sitting in Melissa’s classroom while she finishes prepping her room for this year’s upcoming little eagles. “I don’t want the kids to see me with this.” You lazily gesture to the cane that’s next to you.
“That’s up to you, my love,” Melissa tells you as she passes you by to hang a new Eagles sign. “But I do think that you’ll be incredibly bored while you’re recovering and no one is around.”
She’s right. You’ll be bored out of your mind if you decide to take off for a month- especially without her to keep you entertained. And you know that you hate having subs; if the principal would even be able to find a substitute for you this late into the game. So you decide that you’ll just have to tough it out despite the fact that you’re incredibly self-conscious of having to use the mobility aid at such a young age. You get stares while you’re just in the grocery store and hobbling around with your wife (she tries to insist that you stay home and rest, but you tell her that you like spending the time with her and that you need to stay at least somewhat active).
Development days come and go, most of your staff and team doing everything they can to make life easy for you- Ava even going as far as spray painting your parking spot in the front so that she knows not to rent out the space during the Eagles barbecue that she holds every year (both you and Melissa thank her for that). Janine and Jacob help you to set up your classroom while Gregory finds different workouts that are supposed to help it heal faster on top of the rigorous physical therapy that you’ve been attending. And Barbara is there to make sure that both you and your wife were well-rested and eating- offering moral support in any way she possible can.
And so, the first day of school is upon you. The redhead insists on carrying your things to your room, and she sets a chair outside of the door for you to be able to greet your students when they come in. As your old students run past you to get to their new teachers, they give you the biggest and warmest hugs, telling you that they hope you feel better. You see Melissa standing outside of her door, greeting her new students with the same gusto that she always does, and then she looks over to you. She gives you a questioning look, and you nod and smile in her direction- quietly raising your mug filled with coffee in a toast. She reciprocates your action and blows you a kiss subtly.
You hobble your way back into the classroom and take a seat at your desk while the kids settle in and do the morning work that is on their desk. After morning announcements, you have them all gather on the carpet and explain to them how this year is going to work. One of them raises a shy hand.
“What’s up, hun?” you ask one of the girls.
She asks you hesitantly, “Why do you have a cane? I thought only old people have a cane.”
You smile at her gently. “Thank you for asking, sweetheart. Mrs. Schemmenti had a knee surgery over the summer, and I’m still recovering. I’ll only need it for another month, maybe a little longer. But while I have it, everybody needs to be careful and gentle. I can’t walk around much either, so I’ll be teaching from my desk for the time being.”
Your class is overwhelmingly supportive of this, and they are so sweet about asking if you ever need anything or if they can help pass out papers for the entirety of the morning. This group is a bunch of love bugs who make you get well cards when you give them a bit of free time while you’re waiting to be called down to the gymnasium for the beginning of the year assembly.
You’re incredibly thankful that Ava calls your grade first so that you can make your way down slowly and find a seat before anybody else can swoop in- the last thing you need is to have to stand in the back because all of the chairs are taken. You’re pretty sure if that happened, your wife would riot for you, but that isn’t necessary.
You have your kids take a seat, Melissa slides in next to you and takes your cane to prop it up against the wall, and then you settle in for whatever ridiculous first day of school assembly will present itself this year.
Because you were the first ones in, you’re also the last ones out. It gives you time to get yourself and your kids ready to head back to the classroom for the small break they have before they head to lunch.
But when lunchtime comes, you get swept up in the sheer chaos of trying to get your students to the cafeteria in time so that you have your full lunch break. There are the little ones who are walking through the halls with their eyes wide and full of wonder, your kids who are walking at a fast pace that you’re having a hard time keeping up with, and then there are the older ones who couldn’t care less that you’re attempting to make your way through the halls without bumping into anyone. It doesn’t help that half of the middle schoolers now tower over you.
In a rush, one of them knocks the cane out of your hand with their lunch bag and snorts with laughter. “I thought canes were for old heads!”
Another one of them shouts that you’ve really let yourself go, and maybe it’s time for you to go into early retirement if you can’t walk around without the help of your mobility aid.
You stumble without the crutch there to lean on, and you nearly fall until Melissa has looped an arm around your waist and is helping to hold you up. You lean against her heavily as you try to steady yourself again. She turns to shout at the two who were making fun of you, but they’re already swept up in the sea of children that are all wearing the same uniform. She doesn’t know who to yell at, so she quickly turns back to you.
The student that is standing next to you looks absolutely appalled and picks up your cane immediately. She hands it to you gently. “Are you okay?”
You nod and gesture for her to continue walking. Your students do as they keep their eyes trained on you to make sure that you’re okay.
Once all of your kids are in the cafeteria and you see that they are all seated and eating or in line to get a school lunch, you turn. Melissa is still right at your side, her arm still looped around you.
“Go enjoy your lunch, babe,” you tell her gently as you take her hand away. “I’m just gonna sit in my room for lunch if you wouldn’t mind bringing my kids back down with you when the period is over?”
“You don’t want to have lunch with us?” the redhead asks you quietly.
“I don’t know if I can make it down to the staffroom, and then the lunchroom, and back today,” you admit softly. “My knee is really hurting from physical therapy yesterday.”
“I’ll be down with your lunch,” Melissa promises. She squeezes your hand gently before turning on her heel.
You settle at your desk, and despite yourself willing the tears not to spring to your eyes they do. You wipe at them furiously. The comments from the older kids really shouldn’t be affecting you the way that they are. And you really would rather not have your wife see you shedding tears over their idiotic comments- you know she’ll be roping Ava into a manhunt to see who it was anyway, and it’ll only be that much worse for the students if she catches you crying.
Your wife comes in with both of your lunches and an icepack for you- not that you requested one. You quickly wipe your tears as you hear her heels hitting the tile underneath of her, but she still sees it.
“Hun, does it hurt that bad?”
You turn to her with a sad smile. “No. I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth, but your voice betrays you and it cracks ever so slightly.
She sets your lunch in front of you and pulls up two chairs. She gestures for you to set your leg up on the second chair as she sits int he one next to you.
“Mel, you really can go enjoy lunch with he crew,” you tell her gently. “I’ll be okay by myself.”
“Ice,” is all she says as she takes a bite of lunch. She sets the pack on your knee, and you flinch slightly as the cool sensation ripples through your body, sending a shiver down your back.
You sit there, and she watches worriedly as you don’t make a move for your lunch at all. 
“Babe, you have to eat,” she says softly.
You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself. “I’m not that hungry.”
“My girl? Not hungry?” the redhead teases you. “C’mon.”
You don’t know what happens, but something within you snaps. “When I’m not burning nearly as many calories as I used to because of this fucking knee, I don’t get as hungry!” You burst into tears again. “God, I never should’ve gotten it done, and then I wouldn’t need this damn cane!” You throw it across the room in anger before curling in on yourself.
Your wife is up and retrieving it in seconds, only for you to throw it past her again.
“Babe,” she warns as she picks it up again.
“I don’t fucking want it! I’m sick of everyone staring at the young woman who has to depend on a god damn cane to walk!” you cry.
“Is this because of-” she starts to ask you, but you cut her off. 
“I’m sick of being stared at in the grocery store, or when we decided to go to Hershey and I had to use one of the wheelchairs! I don’t want the kids to go home and tell their parents that I’m some poor, crippled woman who can’t teach standing up!” you choke out. “I- I just want to be normal again!”
“So help those kids who pushed past you,” she grumbles before taking her seat back and wrapping her arms around you. She kisses you gently. “It’s all part of the healing process. You’ll be back to running around in no time, and you aren’t going to be in as much pain.”
“It’s going to be at least another month before I can walk without the cane,” you yell, frustrated tears falling down your cheeks.
“And you know I’ll always be here to lean on, your kids will clearly do everything they can to help you, and you know the staff here has your back,” she tries to comfort you.
“I couldn’t even properly take my kids to lunch,” you sigh, and you hate how whiny you sound.
“So I’ll take them and bring them back for you with my kids,” your wife tells you. “That way all you have to worry about is getting to and from the staffroom.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You already do so much for me.”
“And I will continue to do everything I can for you for the rest of my life,” she tells you with confidence. “When I said for better or for worse, I was serious.”
“I love you,” you whisper as the first genuine smile appears on your lips since the lunch incident.
“I love you too,” she mumbles as she leans in to kiss you. Then she pulls away and pushes your lunch towards you. “Now eat. I know you’re hungry.”
You pick up the fork and shovel some food in your mouth. So maybe you lied to Melissa when you said you weren’t hungry.
Come the end of the day, your wonderful wife picks up your kids and takes them out for dismissal while you ice your knee again. You see the kids off with a wave and a smile as they tell you that they hope you feel better soon. You’re given quite a few hugs, and a few drawings of you with the students are mixed in.
When you expect her to come back in once the kids are gone though, she doesn’t. And you can’t really leave without her because you can’t carry everything and navigate the halls with your cane just yet. You shoot her a text.
Did you forget about your crippled wife?
I’ll be down in a few, she responds quickly. Just chatting with Ava.
She’s telling the truth because the next thing you know, she’s in your room and grabbing your bags along with all of hers, and you’re heading out for the night.
“Why were you chatting with Ava?”
“Just had a few questions for her about this school year,” is all the redhead says. “Now let’s get going- you have physical therapy at 4:30, and then it’s an early night for the Schemmentis. I am wiped.”
The next morning, you and your wife are sitting and standing outside your classrooms getting ready to greet your students when two of the older kids come up to you. They hand you apology notes and hazard a glance at Melissa- they look terrified of her. She just folds her arms over her chest and smirks.
“Mel,” you sigh once they walk away. “I appreciate you defending my honor, but do not make two middle school boys look about ready to sh… their pants on the second day of school.”
“Nobody makes fun of my wife,” she shrugs. “Especially when it’s about something she’s already insecure about.”
“Is that why you were with Ava? You were looking at the security footage?”
Again, she shrugs. “Let’s just say, we’re having a school wide assembly next week about how we shouldn’t make fun of people who have mobility issues or any other sort of disabilities.”
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thot-of-khonshu · 3 months
Text
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All Access, Chapter 1
All Access Masterlist | Ko-Fi | A03 Link
Pairing: 70s rockstar! frankie morales x f! reader
Rating: 18+ (explicit, minors do not interact)
Word Count: 6.4K
Summary: It's 1975 and you're one of the rare women given the opportunity to write for Rolling Stone. When you get the opportunity of a lifetime to travel with the hottest band in the US, Triple Frontier, you're welcomed into their den of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. But what happens when you fall for their bass player and it becomes more than just a story?
Content: explicit drug use, heavy partying, triple frontier as rockstars, eventual smut, 1975 au
A/N: Thank you so so so much to my beta readers @heythere-mel, @proxima-writes, @nostalxgic, and @pedropascal-whore I am so insanely, eternally grateful you have no idea! Thank you to anyone who has been waiting for this story since it was just a random idea in 2022. I hope you all enjoy it and it makes you sing as loudly as Santiago.
TRIPLE FRONTIER: FROM BATTLEFIELDS TO CENTER STAGE
As the dust of the Vietnam War settles, a new sound emerges from its ashes. Four war veterans—Santiago, Benny, Will, and Frankie—unite under a new banner, Triple Frontier, capturing the soul of a generation seeking peace, love, and rock 'n' roll.
Triple Frontier's latest self-titled album strikes a chord with raw passion and unflinching honesty of their previous work. We can trace their meteoric rise in the music world back to their time serving together in the Vietnam War, an experience that has left an indelible mark on each member and seeps into every note they play.
At the forefront is Santiago Garcia, the charismatic lead singer with vocals matched only by his charm and stage presence; Behind Santiago, Benny Miller lets loose on the drums, laying down the heartbeat of their sound. Will, Benny's older brother on lead guitar, is the soul of the band. He's intuitive and artistic with the guitar akin to Robbie Robertson.
And then there's Francisco Morales on bass. The stoic backbone of the group, his basslines are more than just musical notes—they're lifelines. His bass weaves the music together like a thread that ties each member of the band.
Tom Davis, their manager, has been instrumental in their rise. A fellow vet, he understands their shared history and has transformed their raw, visceral tales into a finely-tuned musical odyssey. Speaking about their journey, Tom says, "These boys have stories that the world needs to hear. I'm just helping amplify their voices."
The band's name, Triple Frontier, references the tri-border area in Southeast Asia—a location many veterans from the Vietnam War will recognize.
Despite the weight of their past, or perhaps because of it, Triple Frontier brings a refreshing authenticity to the rock scene. Their music isn't just entertainment; it's a balm, a therapy, a reminder of the indomitable human spirit.
As they gear up for their nationwide tour, one thing's for certain: Triple Frontier is here to stay, and they're just getting started.
Despite your boss stating he just needed a simple puff piece about Triple Frontier, whenever you reread that review you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when you saw your name in print in Rolling Stone. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
You were on the fast track to doing something big at Rolling Stone by the time you were thirty, you could just feel it. After freelance writing post graduation from college, you landed an entry-level job at the magazine. You knew what you were getting into, the long hours and the male-dominated office could be a lot at times, but you were living the dream as far as you were concerned. To write about music and make it your living was a gift you never wanted to take for granted.
It was a Tuesday afternoon and you were done at work surprisingly early. You lugged your 1969 Dodge home and immediately went to the back patio to light a joint. You slunk back in your chair, inhaling deeply from the joint, and watched the sun dip lower behind the tree line; the warm glow of the Los Angeles sunset never got old. As the smoke filled your lungs, you felt the day slowly dissipate.
The sound of your phone ringing jolted you out of your high-induced stupor but you heard your roommate Jenna flit across the house and yell "I'll get it!" before answering. You took another deep pull off the joint and exhaled, watching the smoke dance around the sky as it faded out.
You heard Jenna call your name from inside. You walked into the kitchen and saw her standing with the phone receiver in her hand, she was looking at you with an expectant expression.
"Who is it?" You asked.
"Some guy named Tom Davis? Sounds foxy." She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and swatted her away before taking the phone from her.
"Hello?"
"Hey! I hope you don't mind me calling you at home. Your work number was listed in the phone book, but I didn't know if you'd want to take this call in the office or not. Figured home was probably better."
You had talked to Tom a month back for the Triple Frontier article. You remembered him as a no-nonsense type of guy who didn't beat around the bush, so you knew even though he was calling you at home it wasn't for a dinner party.
"No, that's okay. What can I do for you? I hope the article came out okay?"
"That's actually why I'm calling, I wanted to thank you again for doing such a great job. The guys really loved it and the boss did too. And we've had some new interest in the band and they think an interview series might be a good way to build some buzz during the tour."
You felt excitement bubble up in your stomach. You didn't want to be presumptuous and assume this was an offer, but you also didn't want to say no.
"I'd love to write more about them! I'm not sure if you just want a song by song review or..."
Tom chuckled on the other end.
"Nah, nothing like that. I know this is actually last minute but we're playing a show at the Troubadour on Friday night and we'd love for you to come. I've already cleared it with your editor at Rolling Stone if you're game."
You tried not to sound too eager. Of course you knew about the Troubadour show, it had been sold out for months. You knew this wasn't an easy ticket to score or an opportunity that just falls into your lap like this.
"I would be an idiot to say no."
"That's what I like to hear! I'll be in touch with more details, but I'll have your ticket and backstage pass ready for you on Friday night."
"Awesome, thank you so much."
"Thank you, we'll talk soon!"
He hung up the phone. You stood in the kitchen with the receiver in your hand. You felt like someone had just punched you in the gut, you couldn't believe it. The Troubadour, backstage passes, exclusive interviews... it was the break you'd been waiting for.
This was real rock journalism, the rock journalism your mom cried over when you said you wanted to move out west and pursue this as a career.
Will Mom still think you're dabbling with the devil if your name is under the biggest story for Rolling Stone with the hottest band in the country?
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By the time Friday night rolled around, you felt like you had a permanent case of butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't often you had the opportunity to attend a show and not write about it, so the fact that you had no other reason for going besides seeing the band was enough to set your nerves on fire. But meeting them?
You'd spent the whole week building scenarios in your head - Would these guys even take you seriously? Would they see you as just another fan? Were they even that interesting to interview, or were their music and looks all there was to them?
You shook the thoughts from your head as you walked up to the Troubadour. The line outside was already around the block and you could feel the energy from the crowd. You saw women with long hair down their backs in tight jeans and crochet tops, some men with hair even longer than theirs and dressed in flared pants and vibrant shirts. You could already smell the weed wafting off some people.
As you approached the bouncer at the back door, he glared at you, intimidating and unwavering.
"I'm here to pick up a press pass from Tom Davis." You tried to exude confidence, even though you felt the opposite. He arched his brow at you before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a paper.
"Name."
You gave him your name and also added what you thought would cement your legitimacy. "I'm with Rolling Stone."
He looked over the paper before his eyes settled on your face.
"Right. This way."
The man turned and opened the door behind him, beckoning for you to follow.
Once inside, he led you through the dimly lit back corridors of the club. You were immediately welcomed into a heavy musk of smoke and sweat. You passed other roadies carrying guitars, amps, and microphones. You felt the excitement rising up again and you had to remind yourself to act cool.
He led you into a dressing room with a large group of people. Everyone had drinks in their hands and seemed to be chatting amongst themselves. The walls were covered in posters and various band members from over the years had scrawled their names on the walls where Tom was seated, reading over a sheet of paper.
"There she is! Good to see you." Tom immediately spotted you from the crowd, his tall and imposing figure stood up and made his way over to you. He was wearing a black leather jacket and his hair was pushed back with gel. He looked every bit the rocker, and you couldn't help but wonder if he always dressed like that. With the band but not in the band.
He reached into his back pocket to pull out a laminated press pass. "Here you go, this should get you access to whatever you need."
You took the press pass and held it up, smiling. You were still in shock.
"I can't thank you enough, Tom. This really is an honor."
Tom chuckled and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "Honor's ours. We're looking forward to the piece."
"Speaking of pieces, If you're gonna write about the band you might as well meet them. Come with me."
He started making his way toward the back of the room. As he passed, the people parted to let him through. You followed closely behind, trying to not lose him.
He led you towards a cluster of men in the corner. They were talking amongst themselves, beers in hand and laughing. You recognized Benny–the drummer–from the album cover, by his shaggy, dirty blonde hair. He was bouncing off the soles of his feet, drumsticks tucked in his belt loop, and was the center of the circle.
Will was leaning against the wall, his long blonde hair tucked in a bun. He had a cigarette dangling between his lips and a guitar pick in his hand, fiddling with it.
Next to Will, Santiago was sitting on a couch, his arm draped over the back with a glass tumbler in his other hand. His eyes shined as he was talking to the other boys, taking his hand to smooth out his jet-black hair.
It was true what every girl said - his pants were as tight as his voice.
And then there was Frankie.
He was standing next to Santiago, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingertips. He was leaning on his elbow on the wall behind Santiago, listening to Benny.
He was handsome. His brown hair was covered in his signature baseball cap, and the stubble along his jaw along with his mustache gave him a rugged look. You couldn't help but notice the muscles underneath his thin shirt. You could see his arms flexing underneath the material, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer.
He was the first one to notice you, looking at you before he did Tom. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but you could tell he was assessing the situation.
"Boys," Tom boomed, "I want you to meet the writer from Rolling Stone."
Santiago and Will turned their heads in unison, but Frankie's eyes stayed fixed on you.
Santiago's smile broadened, and Will raised his eyebrow and nodded. Frankie's expression didn't change.
"Well, hey, welcome to the party." Santiago stood up and extended his hand. You reached out and took his, shaking it. His hand was soft and his grip was firm.
"Nice to meet you." You tried to sound confident.
"You've already met Tom, obviously," he gestured towards Tom, who smiled at you, "and this is Will and Benny, and that's Frankie."
Benny smiled at you, and Frankie's eyes flickered over to Santiago as he said his name, but he didn't speak. You had a feeling this was his way of letting everyone else talk.
"Nice to meet you all, I'm a huge fan." You offered them a friendly smile.
Benny spoke up, "Well then, I like you already. You'll make us look good!"
Tom looked down at his watch and then snapped up at the guys. "Shit–we have ten minutes before showtime, you guys need to get down to the stage."
They started moving and shuffling: Will stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, Benny put down his beer, and Santiago tossed back his drink. Frankie had disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to watch them all go by.
Tom turned back to you, "What are you doing? You're going down with us. ‘Can't write about the show if you aren't there."
You felt the rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your face broke out into a huge grin.
"Yeah, right. Okay."
Tom smiled and turned, heading for the door. You followed him, trying to keep up with his strides. Backstage was a flurry of activity and you felt like you were on a hamster wheel trying to stay out of the way. You couldn't help but stare at the scene before you, the lights and the sounds, the smell.
After navigating through the throng of people and equipment, you found yourself on the side of the stage, the lights dim and the sound of the audience humming through the floorboards. While Tom had stopped to talk with one of the lighting guys, you could see the boys getting into their instruments and tuning up.
You looked over and saw Frankie. He had taken off his hat and was carding his hand through his thick hair. His mouth was turned down into a frown, but you could see the glimmer of his eyes.
He looked up at you. Your breath hitched and you could feel your cheeks start to burn. He held your gaze for a moment before turning away and putting his hat back on.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the audience erupted in cheers. The guys, including Tom, went into a huddle and you slowly inched yourself closer, not wanting to miss this moment.
You heard Benny shout, "Let's get it done tonight, boys! Let's give the fans what they came for."
You could see Santiago's grin spread across his face, "This is our mission. Our job. Our purpose."
Tom placed his hand into the middle, "I'm proud of you, boys. Now, let's go fucking rock this shit."
They put their hands together and Santiago began to sing "Stop, hey, what's that sound..."
Like a ritual, the rest of the men in the circle sang "Everybody look what's going down."
With that, the boys dispersed and you felt so lucky to be in that moment. You feel their connection, their comradery, their love.
You saw Tom pat Benny on the back. "Showtime!" he boomed. Benny ran onto the stage and the crowd roared. You could hear the clatter of sticks in the air as Benny hit the cymbal to start playing their song "Echoes".
The rest of the guys filed onto the stage and you were immediately struck by the sheer energy radiating off the crowd. They were cheering, clapping, dancing. There was so much movement and excitement and you felt the hairs on your arms stand up.
The band started their set with a bang. You watched as Santiago worked the crowd, his voice smooth and strong. He walked slowly, confidently, swaying with every step. The crowd was eating out of the palm of his hand.
You'd never experienced a concert like this, being able to watch from the sidelines and take in everything. The lights, the sound, the way the crowd responded.
Your eyes drifted to Frankie. He was focused and precise with his guitar, his hands moving effortlessly across the strings. You watched the muscles in his arms flex and strain as he played along with the concentration in his eyes.
The rest of the concert flew by. Before you knew it, the band was finishing up their final song, and the crowd was going crazy. You watched as Santiago, Frankie, Benny, and Will took their final bows.
The audience screamed. Santiago leaned over and spoke into the microphone, "Los Angeles, thank you. We love you! Goodnight!"
And with that, the lights dimmed and the guys filed off stage. Tom turned and motioned for you to follow as he led you to a different area where the guys were drinking bottles of water and catching their breath.
Benny was sweating, his face flushed red. "Man, we really fucking killed it."
Santiago grinned, wiping his brow. "You bet your ass we did. That was one of the best shows we've done."
Frankie was leaning against the wall, a bottle of water in his hand. He was drinking it slowly, his eyes looking up and meeting yours.
Will looked over at you and gave you a wink. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"Oh my god, yes. That was incredible." You were trying to be professional, but your excitement was starting to show through, an excitement that Santiago could start to see through.
Santiago clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Now that we've broken your legs, I think it's time for the afterparty. Are you coming with us?"
"The afterparty?"
"Of course," Tom chimed in, "you don't have to go, but it might give you some time to chat with the guys more and get some quotes. These things tend to be a good time so I can also book you a room, on us. It's at the Chateau Marmont."
"Holy shit."
"That's the spirit." Santiago winked.
You hesitated, knowing how big a decision this was. The idea of the afterparty excited you, but it was also a chance to spend more time with these guys. To talk to them one-on-one and maybe get some insights that would really sell the article.
You took a deep breath and looked around the room, at the guys waiting expectantly.
"Alright, count me in."
You could have sworn you saw Frankie's lip twitch up into a smile.
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The afterparty was at a bungalow at the Chateau Marmont and it was a mess of people, noise, and debauchery. You tried to take it all in but you just couldn't. There was too much happening at once.
You found a bar top to sit at, watching the scene unfold. Santiago was at the piano playing some old jazz tunes and laughing with gorgeous women surrounding him. Tom was chatting up some record exec, a scotch in his hand. You even saw Benny and Will having an impromptu arm wrestling match in the corner. Frankie so far wasn't anywhere to be found.
The music, the lights, the alcohol. All of it was almost overwhelming and you were starting to wonder why you decided to come.
This world of excess and debauchery was so foreign to you, a far cry from the quiet solitude of your apartment where you usually did your writing. You've been to parties but nothing like this. You thought about your male coworkers at Rolling Stone, who seemed to fit seamlessly into the rock and roll lifestyle, effortlessly bonding with their subjects over shared experiences and unspoken understandings.
You focused on scribbling notes in your notebook, trying to make sense of the chaos around you and organize your thoughts about the concert. The more you wrote, the more your head cleared, and you found yourself able to better compartmentalize everything you'd experienced.
As you were finishing up your notes, you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey."
You turned and saw Santiago standing behind you. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand and his eyes were slightly bloodshot.
"Hey." You replied.
He moved to stand beside you, looking at the party in front of you.
"What are you doing over here by yourself? Having fun?" He asked, taking a swig of the whiskey.
You shrugged, "I guess I just wanted to take everything in, get a feel of the scene. "
"Through your notepad?" He asked, gesturing towards your notes.
"Yeah, uh, it's easier for me to write things down."
"Ah," he took another swig, "can I ask you a question?"
You looked up at him. He was staring down at you, a smirk on his face.
"Sure."
"Why do you wanna write a story about us?"
It wasn't the question you were expecting. You had prepared for a list of generic questions like how you got into writing and your favorite bands, but this one caught you off guard.
"Because..." You hesitated, not sure how to answer, "...because I think you guys are cool."
Santiago smirked, leaning in.
"Cool? That's it?"
"Yeah," you said, feeling slightly defensive. "I think you guys have something special."
He chuckled to himself, taking a joint from a walking passerby, and taking a hit. "That's what they all say."
"All who?"
"People, the press. They all want to write a story about the cool, rebellious, rock and roll band, but the thing is, no one ever actually gets it."
"Maybe because the people who write about you are only interested in the glamorous lifestyle and not the reality of it."
He cocked his eyebrow.
"The reality?"
"Yeah," you said, closing your notebook. "I don't want to write a story about what I see here. This is a party, a show. It's not what's real."
Santiago studied you for a moment, and you felt the tension in the air between you. It was as if he was trying to read you, to figure out what made you tick.
"I'm here to witness the magic, the brotherhood. You can feel the bond between you guys: it's real, it's tangible, it's magnetic. People come to see your shows to see it. Shit, people come to the Chateau Marmont at 1 AM to see it. People want more."
You met his gaze, unwavering. You weren't going to back down.
He laughed, taking a step back. "Okay, okay. I believe you."
You smiled, relieved.
"But I'm gonna let you in on a little secret…Tom? He's over the moon, hunky fuckin' dory that you're writing this piece, but the truth is? We're a little skeptical, a little worried. We wanna look good but we also don't want this to be a puff piece. You've convinced me though, I believe you when you say you wanna do something different. So here's the deal - if you want the real story, the one that matters, you need to prove it."
You swallowed.
"And how do I do that?"
He smirked, gesturing to the crowd. "Come hang with us, chill out, see how we are when it's just us. If you can do that, I'll tell you whatever you wanna know. If you wanna get to know the real us, you gotta dive in."
Santiago offered you the joint, and you took it from him, putting it to your lips and inhaling.
He grinned. "Welcome to the team."
You hesitated for a moment. You wanted to get the real story, the one that mattered, but you were afraid. What if you didn't fit in? What if the guys didn't like you?
But Santiago had a point. You needed to prove yourself, and what better way than by actually hanging out with the band?
So you sucked it up, took a long drag off the joint, and threw caution to the wind.
----------------------------------
You weren't sure how much time had passed, but the party was still in full swing. The doubts and fears that plagued you had floated away along with your sobriety. Santiago had been a great host, introducing you to people, making sure you had a drink in your hand, and keeping the conversation going. You'd lost track of how many drinks you'd had, but you were feeling good.
He'd also gotten you better acquainted with Will and Benny. Will was reserved but he was incredibly knowledgeable about music, and you spent most of your conversation talking about some of the more obscure bands you both liked in common. With Benny, he was the life of the party. He had an infectious smile and was quick to laugh.
Frankie was another story entirely.
Frankie had eventually been found at the party but he'd stayed off to the side, talking quietly with a group of people, occasionally smoking a cigarette or sipping from a glass. You watched him throughout the night.
He'd glance at you from time to time, his eyes dark and unreadable. His gaze would linger, sending shivers down your spine. You would try to catch his eye, but he'd look away before you could make contact.
A model that you recognized from a cover of Cosmopolitan pulled out a baggie of coke and offered some to everyone at the table. You politely declined and headed for the bathroom.
You walked around the hallway and saw a few sets of doors. You opened a door to see Tom sitting on the bed, the phone cord stretched across the room.
"Of course I'm thinking about this damn offer, it's all I can think about. Fuck, I just don't know if this is the right move. If I had another band under my roster the boys would kill me, but the money they're offering? It's the kind of money we can't turn down."
You tried to back out of the room quietly, but sobriety be damned, the heel of your shoe clicked loudly on the hardwood floor as you tripped. Tom turned, his eyebrows raised and his expression a mixture of surprise and concern.
You mouthed an apology and quickly made your way out of the room. Humiliation and embarrassment flooding through you, you decided you needed some air.
You made your way outside, the cool air hitting your face. You inhaled deeply, trying to clear your mind and slow your racing heart. You only had a bit of context but you knew that wasn't a conversation you were supposed to hear.
You sat down on the ground, resting your head against the wall. You could feel your body relax, the tension easing from your shoulders.
As you closed your eyes, the events of the evening replayed in your head. The music, the energy, the excitement.
Suddenly, you felt someone sit next to you. You looked over and saw Frankie, his expression still unreadable.
"Hey."
"Hi." You tried to sound casual, hoping the high pitch in your voice didn't sell you out.
He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. The smoke curled in the air, dancing in the breeze.
You sat in silence for a moment, watching the smoke drift away, trying to distract yourself from the man in front of you.
"Having fun?" Frankie's voice was low and husky, his question caught you off guard. "What do you think of all of this so far?"
"It's definitely not what I'm used to."
He chuckled, and you couldn't help but smile. He took another cigarette from the carton, offering one to you.
You took the cigarette from him and he lit it, the flame flickering in the darkness. You felt the smoke fill your lungs.
"What are you used to then?" He asked, his eyes locked on yours.
"Lighting a joint at the end of a long day, writing a draft for an article, and throwing it in the trash. Sitting at home alone and wondering if I'm ever gonna break out."
Frankie smiled. "We're not what you expected, huh?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Not at all."
You took another drag of the cigarette. The combination of weed, whiskey, and nicotine was making your head spin, and you couldn't stop the giggle that escaped your lips.
Frankie smirked.
"Lightweight."
You nodded, leaning your head against the wall. You looked over at Frankie, his profile illuminated by the moonlight. He was handsome, his jawline sharp and his lips full. His hair was tousled under his hat and his stubble was perfectly trimmed. You could see the muscles in his arms flex as he brought the cigarette to his mouth, and you felt your breath hitch.
You looked away, feeling a blush creep up your neck. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol, the drugs, or his presence that was making you feel so flustered.
"What are you doing out here anyways?" You asked, trying to distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach.
Frankie shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I could ask you the same question."
You laughed, the alcohol and weed finally settling in.
"I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, I needed some fresh air."
Frankie nodded, understanding. "I'm not really one for big parties."
"Is that why you weren't around earlier?"
He gave you a curious look. "You really are quite the observant reporter."
You grinned. "I'm a professional."
He smirked, your gaze turning back to the sky. You couldn't help but feel his eyes linger on your skin, you felt like you were burning up.
"I'm just not a huge fan of the crowds. I like the music, the shows, but the parties are sometimes too much."
"I can understand that."
"Can you?"
You looked at him, surprised by his question. "Of course."
He raised his eyebrow. "How so?"
You shrugged. "I've had my share of experiences. Not quite like this, but enough that I get it. Sometimes I'd rather just sit back with a joint and observe it all."
Frankie's lips twitched into a small smile. "Me too."
You couldn't help but smile back. He seemed much less guarded now.
You took another drag of your cigarette; the smoke swirling around the two of you.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Frankie glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching again.
"Sure."
"What brought you into music? How'd you end up here?"
He considered your question for a moment, tapping the ashes of his cigarette.
"Well, I just always loved music. I was a quiet kid and my parents weren't around a lot. Santi moved to Miami when we were eight and we just immediately hit it off. Whatever he did, I did. If he joined the baseball team, I joined the baseball team. And then he started playing guitar. We'd sit in his garage for hours and play. I never knew I wanted to be a musician until then. It just felt right."
He paused, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
"How'd you get into journalism?"
You froze. The truth was, you had no idea. You just always felt drawn to writing. You had a knack for it and it came easily to you. You never had any grand plan or vision, it was more like a calling.
"I guess I just felt called to it. I was always writing stories as a kid and then I wanted to write about real people and real stories."
He studied you, his eyes searching yours.
"So far, do you like my story?"
You grinned, "I don't know your story yet."
He smiled, exposing a dimple as you felt your heart skip a beat.
"It's been a long time since I've actually talked to someone like this."
"Me too."
There was a moment of comfortable silence. You could hear the sounds of the city around you, the cars honking, the music and laughter drifting from inside. Suddenly, you heard the door open and Tom stepped out.
"Some chick from Apple Records just threw up on my Italian boots. This is a disaster."
Frankie rolled his eyes. "You've had worse, Tom."
Tom groaned. "I'm gonna call it a night. You guys have that radio station interview tomorrow and I need to get ready for it in the morning."
"I should probably get some sleep too." Frankie stretched out and yawned, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans.
You felt your mouth go dry and quickly looked away.
"Did you get the room key I left for you?" Tom asked you. "We rented out the whole second floor, so you've got your pick of rooms."
"Yeah, thanks." You dug into your back pocket, pulling out the key.
"I gotta clean this shit up so I'll see you guys in the morning."
He retreated away from the cottage, leaving you and Frankie alone once more.
You stood, dusting off the back of your pants. "I guess I should get some sleep, I'm pretty wasted."
"I'm heading up myself, so I can walk you to your hotel room."
"Oh, okay." You said in a high-pitched tone.
"Unless you don't want me to."
"No! No, I want you to, I just wasn't sure if you wanted to say goodnight to the guys?"
"They're honestly too fucked up to remember anything right now. Besides, I'd rather make sure you get there safe."
You blushed, the alcohol and weed still affecting you. "Thanks."
You and Frankie made your way back into the main building, the party still raging on from the cottage nearby. While you walked through the halls and into the elevator, you marveled at the luxury of the famous chateau. You'd heard so many stories but to say you'd gone to a party there, even for a couple of hours, was something you’d never forget.
The two of you got into the elevator, and you were acutely aware of Frankie's presence. He was tall–at least a foot taller than you–and his shoulders were broad and muscular. You could smell his scent, a mixture of spice, nicotine, and citrus.
The both of you got off on the second floor, walking silently down the hallway. The hotel was dark and quiet; it was as if the rest of the world had faded away.
You reached your room, fumbling with the key and unlocking the door.
"This is me."
Frankie nodded. "Good night."
You stepped into the room and turned around, watching as he walked away.
"Good night."
You watched him disappear around the corner, the butterflies in your stomach erupting again.
Once the door had shut behind you, you exhaled a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You were still buzzing from the alcohol and the pot but there was something else, an energy that you hadn't felt before.
You stripped off your clothes, letting them pool on the floor, and crawled into the bed. As you drifted off, you felt yourself smile.
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You were jolted awake by the shrill ring of the hotel telephone. Before you could even think, your head was already pounding from last night and its excess. You squinted at the clock next to you, the bold white words focusing on 9:30 AM.
"Hello?" Your voice was hoarse and still heavy with sleep.
"Morning! It's Tom." Tom sounded surprisingly chipper given last night's circumstances with his Italian shoes. Not one to beat around the bush, he started, "I have a proposition for you."
You were instantly alert, sitting up straight in the bed. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
"I had a long talk with Santiago this morning. About you."
You swallowed nervously. You knew that whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
"Okay.."
"He told me that you really want to tell the real story of the band, that you want to get to the bottom of who we are."
You paused, considering your words carefully.
"That's correct. I think there's more to your story, more than meets the eye."
"That's exactly what I thought, which is why I have an offer for you."
You held your breath. You didn't want to seem eager but you couldn't help the excitement building inside of you.
"I'm listening."
"Rolling Stone wants an in-depth piece, right? Well, what better way to get that than by joining us on tour?"
Your heart skipped a beat as his words sunk in.
"You mean..go on tour with you guys? Be a part of the band?"
"It's the only way to really understand us, right? Get into our world, our culture, and experience it for yourself. I already pitched it to your editor and he said as long as the label pays for expenses and you're game, he's game."
You were astounded at the things that Tom Davis could get done before noon.
"But..how would that work? Where would I stay? I don't have any experience touring or writing on the road."
You took a deep breath, processing everything Tom had just told you. "I'd be lying if I said that this wasn't an incredible offer."
"An incredible offer you can't refuse?"
You couldn't help but smile, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "An incredible offer I can't refuse."
Tom let out a hearty laugh, "That's what I like to hear! Look, we've already discussed it amongst ourselves, and as for accommodations, we're a tight-knit group, we always look out for one another. You'll have a place to crash every night, always a nice hotel to stay in."
Your mind was racing with possibilities. The chance to immerse yourself in their world, to witness their artistry up close and personal—it was an opportunity unlike any other. "What about interviews? Will I have unrestricted access?"
Tom nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. We want this to be as authentic as possible. You'll have full access to everyone in the band, backstage, on the bus, wherever we go. Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"Promise me you won't hold back. We want the real story, the gritty details, the highs and lows of life on the road. Don't sugarcoat anything."
You nodded with determination. "I promise, Tom. I'll give it my all."
"Good," he said with a satisfied smile. "I have a feeling you're going to fit right in."
As you pressed down on the end call button, a surge of adrenaline shot through your veins. This was it - the opportunity to delve deep into the core of the band and capture their raw energy in words for all to experience. Just thinking about it made your heart race, and as you thought of Frankie, you felt an unfamiliar warmth in your belly.
You'd have a new adventure ahead of you, one that would change your life forever.
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jasonsknight3 · 3 months
Text
I decided to write about one of my favorite Jason's. Arkham knight Jason. These are just some thoughts I have.
Jason smokes. A lot would be an understatement. It's almost constant. The few times he isn't smoking is when he is in the mask (obviously) or in a non-smoking area. Does he know its bed for him? YEs, it's a struggle. Does he think about quitting? Yes. However, it feels good. It relaxes him. His near constant tense body gets a break when he smokes.
AK Jason has serious sleep issues. Between the sleepless nights in Arkham and not even knowing when the night has begun or ended has messed him up. All the nights he’s been doing morally grey vigilante work. He doesn’t exactly care anymore either but that’s because he doesn’t necessarily care about himself too much anymore.
He keeps to himself for the most part. When he’s out and about he doesn’t say much. Only speak if necessary. Most of the time he’s thinking. Always thinking. Mowing over the choices, his life, how it could be different.
He. Is. Violent. He hasn’t really dealt with the trauma. He is still burning with hate. Sure he switched sides as the morally grey Redhood but he still feels the blackness. He is violent when he’s angry. Sometimes may hurt you. Now whether he means to or not is a different story. He may not even know himself if he meant to.
AK Jason has lost a major amount of hearing in his left ear due to his time in Arkham. All the beatings, all the hits to the side of his head. It was inevitable really. He will use a hearing aid when he’s in civilian attire but not as he’s alter because the mask has built in hearing enhancement. In his right ear however luckily he only lost 5% of his hearing.
Jason twitches like crazy. It’s usually what he would call phantom shocks. Being tortured the way he did with the “shock therapy” he probably has nerve damage too. He doesn’t really know but he doesn’t find it a priority to find out.
It takes a sweet heart to break down his walls, a caring woman with soft gentle hands. A woman with patience and time.
He’s not necessarily a physically affectionate man. He’d feel anxiety if you try to touch him in any way. However if and when you get close he will display some sort of physical affection. Holding your pinky, or wrist (never your whole hand though, that feels scary for him. That will come even later.)
Begin with him is a risk. As mentioned in his violent headcanon he may hurt you. He’ll wonder why you’d stay but he’s not necessarily complaining though.
The only creature he will let touch him is his cat. Finley or Finn for short. He is the only think Jason will willingly show love to and let show love back. In a way, Finn is teaching Jason how to be gentle again. How to love.
In his heart of hearts. In the deepest part of himself he is just a man who forgot how to love and how to be loved.
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chlorinecake · 4 months
Text
PART 3: GHOST FACE YANDERE imagine
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Blood OnIce | 얼음에 피 - a park sunghoon ff
⚡︎ cw: mentions of suicide and anxiety, bullying, violence involving guns and knives, character deaths, swearing, heavy petting/kissing, domestic abuse themes
⚡︎ genre: horror, psychological thriller, slow burn, angst
⚡︎ summary: new relationships blossom as you try to lead a normal life proceeding your abuser’s death, but what happens once a series of chilling phone calls disrupts your peace again?
⚡︎ wc: 15k (have fun with this hour long read lol) ~ previously...
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❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ now and then
Since the fateful day of his death, Sunghoon Park was infamously known for the heinous acts he so gallantly committed out of love for his late little sister.
For the most part, the identity’s involved in Sunghoon’s amateur high school killings to his eventually more-experienced university slaughters were publicly announced.
Those victims being Cha Jun-Hwan, Nakamura Kazuha, Maddison Dupont, as well as her twin brother Maxwell, and a few unnamed others.
News outlets gave you, Sunghoon’s deadly obsession in this horror story, the nickname V, as you played the role of his only victor, escaping the torture fest you endured for three months while his other victims could barely last an hour against his signature weapon:
A Buck 120 Hunting Knife.
Memories of the events that Sunghoon sent you through roamed within the darkness behind your drowsy eyes, and it didn’t help that he practically haunted every other aspect of your waking life.
You smelt him after scrubbing yourself near clean of your own skin.
You could hear his daunting voice in stolen moments of silence.
You saw his face behind every masked murderer in your nightmares.
His oh-so-handsomely crafted face.
You could only imagine how many more people would exalt his name as a Dahmer or Bundy after seeing it.
That kind of thing always bothered you...seeing people on social media praise murderous monsters as if they were worthy of admiration.
In the beginning, you always thought that “V” was short for victim, and it honestly enabled you to feel like one.
That is, up until Dr. Lee, who you always just called Heeseung, stepped in to help you recover.
Or… more accurately, forget.
"How long are you gonna let Sunghoon control your life?" He'd ask you in half-whisper, to which you'd only shrug in response.
It wasn't like you didn't want to get over everything that happened.
Hell, if it were possible, you’d want a complete brain-wipe of Sunghoon, but Heeseung tried everything that was clinically moral to help you.
Your treatment started with cognitive behavioral strategies that helped you associate your fears with the strength it took for you to both withstand and overcome them in reality.
Next, you went through imagery rehearsal therapy to get over the nightmares.
Multiple times a week, Heeseung would ask you to describe your nightmares in detail, drawing pictures or writing out the most vivid scenes as needed. Then, you would write out a changed version of the dream, mentally rehearsing the new imagery until your nightmares were replaced by it.
In all of your illustrated revisions, Sunghoon’s face was completely blurred out in black crayon, because in an ideal world, you wouldn't want to remember that face ever again.
And so, you didn't.
It was a rare medical phenomenon that your treatment resulted in you fully forgetting the face of your humanoid fear, but you still weren't quite ready to live normally.
Despite three months of therapy having passed, Heeseung still wanted to work with you in recovery for at least another half-year.
And this is the exact path that led to you and Heeseung developing into something a little more than friends. Something like occasional dinner dates with equally occasional kissing afterward.
On the lips, of course. That's where he liked kissing you the most.
Currently you were marked at three weeks on a prescribed medication for PTSD and anxiety patients, and you can't remember when you felt better.
There were a few side effects to the medicine, like declined appetite and wonky periods, but you’d rather take that over a potentially worse lifestyle without the meds.
You were finally getting your life back, and with Sunghoon officially out of the picture and new friends by your side, you had nothing to worry about.
Right?
➠ monday
2:11pm
The ways of a Café Royale worker came naturally to you, which is why your boss (aka the café owner) put you in charge of training the new employee, Lee Hyun-Seo, but you just called her Leeseo.
You had been training the young girl for over two weeks, yet she still struggled with the entry level basics, like handling restaurant grade coffee makers or properly handling a broom.
Despite how much of a slow learner she was, you and the staff decided to keep little Leeseo around.
One of the reasons being that her parents were struggling financially, and the girl just wanted to lend a hand with some of their bills.
The other reason was that Leeseo had a way of charming people, staff and costumers included—like a vessel of sunshine, she almost always had a smile on her face, and you commended her for that given everything she was going through at home.
“I can help!” Leeseo beamed, leaping to take the second tray of food and drinks you carried.
“Thanks, kiddo,” you chirped, finally using two hands to hold the tray.
“Ugh, what must I do for you to stop calling me that?” She whined, placing the steaming hot mugs on a costumer's table.
“Focus,” you said, pointing out how she nearly spilled a cup of black tea on someone’s lap.
You beelined back to the front counter, grabbing the plate of assorted sandwiches that just came out. “That’s for table 16,” Yunjin said, “and this is for the hottie at 23,” she continued, handing you a folded napkin.
“What, did he ask for math help?” You teased, observing her phone number jotted down in blue ink on the piece of paper.
“Just give it to him, alright?” She pleaded with frustration, turning back around to prepare the upcoming orders.
You hit up table 16 first before making your way toward table 23, where Nate was sitting. He was the same guy with dyed silver hair you met a few weeks ago, and since then, he had become a regular costumer at Café Royale.
The most you knew about him was that he enjoyed writing creatively, and was working on a piece to enter for a contest. He was also very passionate about his afternoon dose of caffeine, which you find rather odd at best…
You’d give it to Nate that he was a particularly attractive guy, but not worth doing anything unprofessional like… I don’t know, passing a customer your phone number at work?
“Good afternoon, Nate,” you smiled, handing him the napkin to which he immediately noticed its inky etchings.
“Damn, now I’m offended that you think I’m single,” he joked, eyes following the series of numbers on the paper.
“Trust me, I’m not your secret admirer,” you replied, pulling out your note pad to write, “What can I get for you today?”
“Oh, I had something at home. I just like writing here sometimes,” he smiled, closing his computer.
“Well, it must be something juicy if you won’t even let me see it.”
“Ugh, it’s in draft form right now! Give me a few days and I’ll be happy to show yo—“
“Focus, ____,” Leeseo interrupted as she walked by, showing off the $50 tip she just nabbed from table 16.
You sighed, both at Leeseo’s petty remark, your loss on 50 bucks, and Nate’s ability to enthrall your attention.
“Good luck editing,” you smiled, closing your notepad before getting back to work.
Nate had become a usual costumer ever since the first day you met about three months after you started working here.
You two grew particularly close, especially once he started staying back at the cafe during your night shifts to walk you to your car.
Whenever the sun set a few hours before your shift ended, he noticed how nervous you looked... staring outside the French café windows as if the starry night whispered threats.
If it weren’t for Heeseung, you wouldn’t even have a personal car to get you from point A to point B. He gave it to you as a gift once you started working.
He was able to pick you up for the first week of your job, but after that, he couldn’t make the commitment anymore given his own chaotic work schedule.
So, in typical Heeseung fashion, he bought you a whole freaking car, and he wouldn’t let you refuse his offer under any circumstances.
“Just take the damn keys, ____,” he’d chuckle, watching as you shyly did just that, walking over to the vehicle and taking your first spin.
Back to Nate though, he had a funny way of telling you “bye” on nights like those.
"Watch your back," he'd say, waving with arguably the most attractive smirk you've ever seen as you’d pull out of the driveway and head home safely.
Of course, you'd never admit that first part to Heeseung.
You read the order note that Yunjin just wrote from the last costumer: Two iced vanilla lattes with four mini dessert pops. As a waiter, you already expected that you’d do a lot more floor work than just placing food and drinks on a table here and there, so you took it upon yourself to help Yunjin out by fixing this order.
“Thank you BIG TIME,” Yunjin exclaimed, wiping off the counter near the register.
“Of course, you’ve stirred enough drinks for the both of us.”
“Pfft, I was talking about passing Nate my number, Strawberry Shortcake. Do you think he’ll actually call back?”
“Hmm, probably not… I think he said something about having a girlfriend already?”
“Liar! You berries and cream filled liar,” Yunjin teased, tossing a handful of blueberries at you.
“That doesn’t sound very PG,” you giggled back to her, eating one of the blueberries that landed on your workspace.
"Hey," Leeseo said shyly, tapping you on the shoulder, “I’m gonna step out for a bit, if that’s okay.”
“Mhm, you can’t fool me, iPad kid. Now focus, remember?”
“I am focusing, ____… Its just some girls came in from my school and I really don’t want them to mess with me at my job.”
You handed Leeseo a pair of tongs to grab the cake pops you needed, “I didn’t see any girls, Leeseo.”
The metal tongs clinked against the glass cake pop case, “I told you about them last week, ____… plus, girls like them are pretty hard to miss,” she whispered, pointing her head in their direction.
Pretty hard to miss? Yes, but basic modern day teenagers nonetheless? Double yes.
You tried not to make your peeking look so obvious, so you finished up the lattes and brought them to Leeseo’s classmates to get a closer look.
From their conversation, you could tell the two girls were talking crap about someone, thanks to stream of swear words that flew from their lip-sticked mouths. You placed their order down on the table, but they ignored you, daring to raise their voices even louder so you couldn’t get a “You’re welcome” in.
Yikes, you thought to yourself, thinking about the way your high school self, Maddison, and Kaz used to bash Wonyoung while she was in the same room.
“Aiko’s the short one with the eyeliner, and Maeve's the taller one with pink hair. Don’t let their looks fool you though… Aiko’s the real monster.” You remembered Leeseo telling you when you drove her home after training one time.
That was the same day Leeseo mixed up more than four orders and accidentally sweared in front of a little kid. He asked her for a breakfast croissant to which she replied, “Sorry, but you’re shit out of luck bud, we just ran out.”
Harmless mistake, I know, but the kid’s mother wasn’t too forgiving about it.
“Those girls from my school have been blowing up my phone with hate messages since I left school today… I swear they have nothing better to do with themselves…”
“And does that explain why you said “shit” to a little kid,” you asked.
“N-no, but, they’ve got my head in a bad place… My focus is probably ruined for the rest of the day now,” she sighed, washing the chocolate from her hands before sitting on the kitchen floor.
Leeseo found herself in the same place today, sitting on the kitchen floor as you brought Aiko and Maeve their cake pops before joining Leeseo on the ground.
“I knew a girl just like you when I was in high school,” you began, voice almost falling to a whisper, “Much like those girls out there, me and my friends treated people terribly, especially this one person.”
“So then what happened?” Leeseo asked, looking at you, even though your gaze fell to your lap, stuck in a daydream.
Memories that part of you wished you could forget resurfaced in your mind. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tightening your grip around nothing before answering.
“She killed herself.”
Leeseo’s eyes widened a little at your words, her chest raising differently as her breathing style changed.
You could tell she was shocked, as would anyone who heard such a thing.
She remained quiet as if waiting for you to say something else, and so you did.
“Hey, if you’d feel better hiding in the kitchen until they leave, you can.”
She looked up and smiled. “Thanks, ____!” She beamed, reaching in her pocket for her smartphone.
“Nuh uh, you’re still on shift, buddy, now help Yunjin out with the dishes!” You chuckled, heading to the front to deliver more orders.
Yunjin was the only other person you had told about Wonyoung and everything else.
It wasn’t intentional, but after having one to many egg nog shots at a Café Royale employee's function, you confessed as she drove you home.
You had grown comfortable with Yunjin knowing that dark part of your past, and even now with Leeseo, given that you’d always viewed her like a little sister.
Beep, beep.
It was a reminder on your phone that you'd set yesterday, saying that you had to meet with Heeseung at his place around 5pm.
Maybe the girls won't notice if I slip out for the day, you mischievously thought to yourself, hanging your work apron over the wall coat hook before sneaking out of the café undetected.
7:03pm
Traffic had you running late to Heeseung's place, but he wasn't to upset about it, given that he got held back at work an extra hour to sort files in his office. Needless to say, your dinner "date" ended up starting a little later than desired.
Even so, Heeseung made an effort to keep the night special, but it seemed as though your mind was in a different place at the time.
“You’ve barely touched your pasta,” Heeseung nudged, thinking of any way to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.
“Oh, sorry! Yunjin brought me a coffee so my appetite’s a bit mild.”
“That’s okay, I’m really just trying to get you to say something,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his lovesick eyes. He just stared down at his plate, twirling the saucy red noodles around his fork.
“Uhm… well, how was work?” You tried, cringing at yourself.
Heeeseung put his fork down, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin, “____, why’re you acting like a stranger all of a sudden? You’re always comfortable talking to me. Is it because I was late today?”
Your gaze fell to his lap where he sat with parted legs. Shit, stop peeking, you internally scolded yourself.
You're not sure what made you feel this way tonight, but your mind was on everything else but the pasta in front of you.
Was it the way he decided to cuff his sleeves today? No, he always wore his shirts like that. Maybe it was the way he occasionally tugged at the tie around his neck, or the little breaths he'd let out each time you crossed and uncrossed your legs, or the smirk he'd flash whenever you failed to hold eye contact with him for longer than five seconds.
“So I see you’d rather daydream about my dick than have a simple conversation with me,” He said, voice sounding offended yet prideful at the same time.
You shook your head at his words, biting your lip to keep in the embarrassed laugh that dared to slip past your mouth, “Sure, but you don’t have to say it like that.”
“Why not? I can tell you liked it,” He pressed, talking a sip of the white grape champagne in his wine glass, coating his peachy lips.
In all honesty, you've been sexually attracted to Heeseung since you first met him during one of the darkest stages of your life, and you couldn't help but feel bad about it.
Of course you appreciated him for other reasons, but at the end of the day, he’s your crush and mental health care provider all at once. You dreaded the idea of adding “fuck buddy” to that mix, and frankly, you weren’t sure you'd be able to handle it, despite already testing that boundary a few months ago at his freaking job of all places.
“There are just times when I feel like what you said might be true,” you answered, finally feeling comfortable enough to look him in the face.
“Times where you'd rather daydream about my dick than talk to me?”
“Heeseung!!”
“Fine, fine, I’ll stop,” He chuckled, his contagious bright smile making you laugh a little yourself, "So what is it?... That happens in your daydreams, I mean," he went on.
"In detail or the safe for work version?" You giggled again, honestly trying not to engage in his flirting for the sake of your own existence.
"I never noticed how pretty your laugh is when you're nervous and trying to hide it," he smiled, tilting his head at you.
"Oh and where'd you find that one, in a Rizzler's 101 Guide?" You teased, nudging his knee with yours.
"No, I really mean it," he smiled again, getting up from his seat and meeting you on the couch.
Gently cupping your face in his hands, he pulled you in for a kiss, which quickly led to a full blown make out session. You don't think you've ever felt hornier while kissing someone as you let out sounds you didn't even know you could make.
Heeseung's hand got lost under your shirt while yours were gripping at his neck, pulling him impossibly close to you. Your legs were hooked around his waist as he softly grinded against you, both of you feeling light headed just from the simple touches and sensations.
You wondered what it’d be like to go all the way, so you took off your top, and he followed after you, kissing down your neck as you clenched around nothing.
The warmth of his breath against your cold skin sent shivers down your spine, your fingers combing through his hair as if trying to calm his growing desire for you.
The little nips he left on your neck reminded you of the way Sunghoon used to wake you up from naps, but you tried to stay in the moment.
Heeseung held your waist with one hand while he slipped past your panties with the other, looking at your face for some kind of cue before touching you any further.
You let out a whine, feeling his fingertip barely graze your sweet spot before he started to rub it in circles.
“I love the little sounds you make for me,” he whispered, inserting two fingers with ease given how wet you were.
The words of Sunghoon echoed in the back of your mind, which was almost worse than actually seeing his face. As much as you wanted this moment with Heeseung, your mind was letting your past get in the way of it.
You felt your heart beat increase with each thrust of Heeseung’s fingers, his pouty lips latched to your skin as if he were a leech.
It all felt so good, but every time Sunghoon crossed your mind, you felt like screaming.
You tried keeping your eyes open so your mind couldn’t deceive you with images, but a certain thought resurfaced when you felt Heeseung pulling down your pants.
I’ll show you just how deranged I am.
“Stop! Stop it! G-get away from me!” You thrashed beneath Heeseung, causing him to jerk away immediately. He stared back at your shaking body in shock, trying to figure out what just happened and why.
“_-____, are...are you okay?” He asked sincerely, looking into your now teary eyes.
Your chest kept heaving as a mix of scary emotions started to build up at your core. “I’m sorry, Heeseung,” you sniffled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just... I can’t do this.”
“W-what do you mean? Can’t do what?” He asked again, putting his shirt back on and passing you yours.
“The touching stuff... I just-" you sighed, preparing yourself for his response, “I couldn't stop thinking about him.”
Heeseung knew exactly who you meant, despite you not being able to say his name.
“I understand what you’ve been through, ____, but I hate that it has to affect us even now. I thought you said you got over all that...”
You scoffed at his words, “Aren’t you the doctor here? That’s how trauma works, I’m afraid.”
You reached for your own top, snaking your head through the hole and fixing yourself on the couch.
He stared back at the pasta that now set awkwardly on the coffee table before you. As if your words went through one ear and out the other, he went on to ask, “Is there someone else?”
“What? No, Heeseung, I would never do that to you.”
“I get that, but would it really be all that bad? It’s not like we’re officially in a relationship.”
“Heeseung—”
“I know we’ve been through a lot together, and if you’re not ready for this kind of thing, I’ll move on, love.”
“Just because I’m not ready to be intimate with you?”
It was strange how just a few moments ago you were giggling only to now be turning cheeks at each other. The room fell silent for a few moments before Heeseung got up from his seat and handed you your purse, “You can go now.”
You blinked in disbelief, “You're kidding, right?”
“No. I want you out of here for the night. You need some space.”
“Are you sure this is about what I need?” You asked as he walked you to the door.
“Thanks for coming over. Have a good night, ____.” He whispered, not meeting your face before he closed the door behind you.
You felt confused as you stood outside his apartment, feet practically glued to his "Welcome In" doormat.
The irony, you thought to yourself.
You didn't wanna think about if there was something you could've said or done to change the way things went tonight.
Another oddity was that even though Heeseung was persistent on you continuing with therapy because he knew you weren't ready, he somehow expected you to at least trust him in that moment.
Maybe it was time for you to accept the fact that you'd never be normal... not after Sunghoon.
8:22pm
You went straight home after your argument with Heeseung, that is, if you could even call it that.
By now, you were very aware that guilt was one of your strongest emotions, so you felt the need to call Heeseung and leave things on a more positive note.
Or perhaps it was the only way you could try killing off the awkwardness burning in your veins.
Kicking your shoes off, you didn't bother to wash up before plopping your body on the couch, crossing your feet and typing in your phone password.
You went to your "Favorite" contacts list and pressed Heeseung's name, staring at the call option for a few moments before finally clicking it.
Boop... the dial tone rang.
Boop... the sound lingered a few more times before going to the voicemail option.
Ouch.
You instead opted to leave a voice message, rambling some simple (and apologetic) nonsense and pressing send.
He must've read it because three, hopeful dots appeared as you awaited his response... that never came.
Ring, ring, ring, your phone blared, an unknown caller daring to interrupt your silly love affair.
"Ugh," you sighed, hanging up before the number called again.
Ring, ring, ring.
We can all take a guess what your mind immediately thought of at the familiarly ominous ringtone.
Not wanting to feed into your own cowardice, you answered the call, hoping that it would somehow grant you a fleeting feeling of control.
"Long time no see, ____," the raspy voice slithered from the other end of the phone, laced with a craving for mischief.
You were a bit startled by the caller using your name.
"Sorry, but you're a little late with the Halloween pranks. Try again next year-"
"I was thinking, we should play a game."
Oh dear, not this shit again, you thought to yourself.
"Uh, I think you've got the movies mixed up, buddy. That line's from Saw," you replied, fighting back the giggle that danced in your throat.
The old you would've been trembling from a call such as this, but given the circumstances, you were glad for anything that would distract from your cringey thoughts of Heeseung.
"Hmm, I see you're still the scary movie type?" The voice snickered.
"Not at the moment. Right now, I'm more interested in this game of yours. Though, if it involves stripping, you can count me out early."
"Heheheh, don't worry. There's no stripping this time. I've learned from experience that you're not down for that kind of thing. On-top-of-the-clothes fun was always your favorite."
Your jaw clenched at his statement, making you curious to know who was behind the call this time, but you continued to play along.
"Okay, I'm listening."
"Perfect. It's called guess who's gonna get skewered like a fucking pig?"
"Whoo, we're jumping straight into the extremes, huh?"
"Absolutely! Extreme is my favorite," the voice went on, but you were now (re)distracted by thoughts of Heeseung, dumbly staring at the three dots on your phone screen that had yet to dissolve into a message.
"Hey, you still there?"
"Oop- Sorry... you must be boring me, I guess," you teased.
"You guess what?"
"Oh, I forgot we were playing a game," you chirped, sitting up straight now as if the caller was right in front of you, "Hmm, do I get any hints?"
"No, you're smart enough to guess without any."
"Fine," you exhaled, assuming that the answer was yourself. Preparing to perform, you cleared your throat in case you had to fake-cry, "My guess is some guy who probably watched the Scream movies one too many times."
"Well well well. Has my life been threatened by the very person who failed to take it?"
"W-what did you just say?"
"Aww, you almost sound excited about that. Do you miss me, princess?"
"Uhh, I don't know what you're talking about," your voice cracked at the dreadful nickname, a fear you haven't felt in months rumbling in your chest.
"Do you miss the way I made you feel?"
"I hope this isn't your idea of a funny prank, because the humor died after you asked about scary movies."
"You have a strange obsession with death, don't you ____? Answer me this: when was the last time you visited my grave? Or my sister's grave?"
"You're sick," you spat, raising your voice a little louder than intended.
"Mhm. That just means we have a lot more in common than you thought. Anyways, should I knock or just carve my way in-"
Boop, boop.
You cut the call, immediately blocking the number and running to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.
As if it were a shield, you hopped in your bed, tucking the covers over your head and squeezing your eyes shut.
Albeit, you were now well distracted from any thoughts of Heeseung, but unfortunately, something far more daunting than a pasta party gone wrong took its place.
➠ tuesday
9:15am
You had work at the café early the next morning, and didn't get much sleep after that unexpected call. To no surprise, Heeseung never texted you back, but again, that's not really something you were worried about at the time.
Nate was already at the café when you got there, earlier than his usual time, but you took it upon yourself to serve him before Yunjin could step in to play the role of her own cupid.
"Morning, Nate! Don't tell me you already had something before you came here," you teased.
"Hey, and no, not this time heheheh."
That laugh... were you being paranoid?
"I'll have a black coffee... and maybe something sweet if you wanna surprise me," he smiled before noticing that you looked a little off, "Hey, is everything alright? You don't look too good."
You shifted in your stance, trying to stay in character of the happy waitress he knew you to be, "Oh- yeah, I just didn't get much rest last night. Who knew caffeine was so anti-sleep?"
Ding.
The café door bell rang as a trio of elderly ladies walked in... the same ones Yunjin accused of Karenism after you abandoned ship yesterday.
You didn't want her to have to serve them so you turned in Nate's order so you could take their's.
Leeseo wasn't in work today because she had school, so some guy (who's name you could barely remember) took her place, and boy was he a lifesaver in the kitchen.
He had the older ladies and Nate's order made within minutes, handing you the trays in each hand as Yunjin busied herself doing who knows what.
"Here’s your black coffee and a tiramisu square,” you chirped, placing the mug and plate beside his laptop, “I know you’ve tried this one before, but I really think it suits you.”
“Aww, thanks, ____,” he pouted playfully, “How can I ever repay you for such kind deeds?”
Your gaze immediately fell to Nate’s delicate fingers that rested idly near his keyboard.
“Your story. I wanna see it,” you said plainly, tucking the serving tray under your arm and peeking over his shoulder.
“You’re joking,” he said, slightly closing his computer.
“Aww, c’mon! I’ve been dying to read it! If you make me wait any longer I might literally combust!”
“Fine, okay, I’ll show you,” he sighed, playfully rolling his eyes, “but only because I wouldn’t want anyone to clean up your gory remains.”
He moved his coffee out of the way to prevent any accidents, slowly lifting his computer back up for you to see, “Promise you won’t judge me? Like I said, it’s in draft form—”
“I promise, Nate, now stop stalling,” you giggled, squinting your eyes at the tiny words that filled the screen.
You caught sight of the words ghost face, suicide, and revenge almost immediately, your body language clearly exhibiting how you felt on the inside.
“Is it really that bad,” the platinum haired boy asked with furrowed brows, taking in your now disgusted demeanor.
“I… this is unbelievable…”
“Just give it a chance, ____! Trust me, the plot gets better in the next chapter, when the main character finally realizes that the guy behind the mask was the party host all along—”
"What are you, some kind of sick freak?” You interrupted him, careful not to show your anger as you closed his computer shut.
“I… I’m sorry, what?”
“How much do you know?" You went on, slightly raising your voice.
“____, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he almost laughed, trying to shake off how nervous you were making him feel.
“You’re the pervert who called me last night, aren’t you?”
“____, please calm down, you’re scaring me,” he pleaded, standing up from his seat and placing his hands on your shoulders.
Everything in you wanted to push him away, but once the glares from the surrounding costumers and Yunjin entered your field of vision, you simply backed away, swallowing the anger that bubbled within you.
You reached to take off your apron to which Yunjin immediately scolded you, “Nuh uh, you’re not getting away that easily… Get over here, now.”
Letting out a sigh, you looked at Nate with both confusion and shame, walking behind the café counter to where Yunjin was standing.
“What was that all about?” She asked, shaking your shoulder, “Huh? You’re making me look bad in front of my crush, y’know?”
“I got a call last night. A ghost face call,” you whispered, fighting back the tears meddling with your eyes, “It could’ve been a prank, but it seemed so real.”
She took your hand, guiding you into the kitchen where prying eyes and nosey ears couldn’t interfere.
“And you think it was Nate?”
“He’s writing an entire story about it, Jinnie! I can’t be crazy for drawing that conclusion!”
“And you’re not crazy… probably just a little hangry… and sleep deprived,” she smiled, handing you a cookie you didn’t even realize she was holding til now, “Eat it.”
“B-but the chocolate’s all melted.”
“Eat it, ____,” she giggled, shoving the cookie past your lips and into your mouth.
“Ahh, what the heck!”
“Hey, don’t talk with your mouth full,” she grinned, dusting the cookie crumbs on her apron, “now hurry up and finish that… we’ve got a lot more costumers to serve before our shifts ends."
12:16pm
Later that day, you somehow found the balls to apologize to Nate for blowing up on him. You didn’t expect him to be so forgiving, especially considering that you literally accused him of harassing you.
During the brief apology, you explained to him everything you went through in the past, apologizing again for trauma dumping on him. But, like always, he was very understanding, even laughing it off by saying he’s grown used to people having dramatic responses to his art.
“So, you’re V?” He asked, walking beside you as you made your way back to work from your lunch break.
“I’m what?”
“You know, V. Sunghoon’s survivor.”
You usually didn’t like your name being used synonymously with Sunghoon’s, but this time, you didn’t mind as much. Maybe that had something to do with Nate’s undeniable charm.
“Yeah, I-I guess I am,” you half-smiled, walking a bit slower as you weren’t quite ready to leave his side, “Why were you so fascinated by that story, anyway?”
He hummed in thought, looking at the sky before answering, “I’ve got a pretty messed up past, myself, y’know? I hate that certain things turned out the way the did, but it helped to shape me into who I am today.”
“And who’s that, if you don’t mind me asking. Who are you?”
He smiled, licking his teeth at how catty your voice sounded, “I’m an attractive guy with an ugly little kid who’s both obsessed and afraid of death hiding behind it all.”
“Explain that for me.”
“Only if you’re ready,” he said, a silence meddling between you two before you nodded, cueing for him to continue.
“When I was younger, some guys broke into my parents house while my mom and I were solving a puzzle in the kitchen. She hid me in the cabinet, but didn’t have enough time to hide herself before the burglars shot her straight in the chest. That’s just the short version, but part of me hasn’t been the same since then,” he paused, taking in a breath before continuing.
“I know she’d want me to lead a normal life after everything that happened, but I’m still attached to the darkness I saw. It’s a part of me now.”
You were trying not to show it on your face, but you weren’t expecting a guy like Nate to have gone through so much. He handled his pain a lot better than you ever could, and you both envied and admired him for it.
“Sorry, I know that was a lot to take in,” he sighed, sticking his hands in his pocket.
“Nate, I literally just told you that a serial killer held me captive for months while I carried his baby. You’re good,” you chuckled, nudging him on the shoulder.
You two bonded on other things like your experiences with therapy, sharing with him the medication you’d been taking to help with your anxiety.
“I don’t know, ____. I took that same stuff when I was a kid and it fucked me up bad… I’m sure you’ve been having adverse symptoms from it, right?” he frowned, walking up to the café entry with your hand in his.
Ding.
The bell jingled behind you, gracing both your senses with sweet aromas.
“Yeah, actually… I have.”
“So. You can choose to follow doctors orders or take my advice instead. The choice is yours,” he shrugged, letting go of your hand at the sight of Yunjin coming from around the counter.
She wasn’t oblivious to you two holding hands, but it didn’t bother her much anyways.
“Welcome back, strangers. I see you’re both on good terms now? No more witch hunts?”
“No more witch hunts,” Nate confirmed with a smirk, showcasing the faint dimple on one of his cheeks.
➠ wednesday
6:49am
Screech.
The sound of iceskates gliding across a frosty arena filled your ears.
The audience of chilly bodies was silent, eyes gawking in awe at the sight of the skilled dancer practically controlling gravity itself.
It was astounding how skilled this faceless skater was.
You were very much aware that you were currently in a dream, thanks to the mere fact that you’d never actually attend a figure skating show in real life.
Not that you had something against the sport…you just simply couldn’t handle the thoughts that came with it anymore.
Knock, knock, knock.
And in typical dream fashion, you teleported to an entirely different space within seconds, in this case, your apartment kitchen.
Pacing to the front door, you slung it open to reveal a quaint cardboard package lying on the ground.
You picked up the box, walking over to the kitchen counter before placing it down and grabbing a knife to cut through the packaging tape.
Flipping over the cardboard flabs, you were met with the sight of a tiny red sequined dress and a devil horned headband tucked neatly beside it.
Kazuha, you instantly thought to yourself.
“Remember this?” A gentle voice chirped, pulling you from your thoughts.
You whipped your head to see none other than a figment of the late Wonyoung. Even after all your treatment, you could never forget how beautiful she was… even your dream managed to capture the ethereal essence of her beauty.
She held a blue pregnancy test kit in her hand, dressed in the same school uniform she’d always wear, her pink lace socks resting at her dainty ankles.
“Wonyoung?” You asked in shock.
“The one and only. My brother did a good job of making sure you never forgot about me,” she said with a pout, making your own mood fall.
“I could never forget you, Wonnie. No matter how desperately I might’ve tried to.”
She smiled at your words, taking a few steps closer to you, “I haven’t been called that in a while… anyways, the pack said it only came with one test, but it gave me two instead. Trust me when I say you might need this later.”
You nodded in response, putting the test in your kitchen cabinet and closing the box with Kazuha’s costume in it.
“Hey, not so fast!! I wanted to try that on, y’know?
“Kaz!” You nearly yelped, running into her arms and giving her a hug.
“Okay okay, I missed you too, ____, but chill out with the PDA. I have a strict no-homo rule,” she chuckled, kissing you on the cheek anyways.
“Sooo you and Wonyoung get along now?”
“Surprisingly, yes. When you’re dead, I guess grudges just matter less to you. It’s easier to forgive than to hang on to that kind of pain,” she sighed, propping herself on the counter.
“Speaking of the dead,” you began curiously, “how is he? Sunghoon, I mean….”
The light presence in the room suddenly faltered at your mentioning of his name, Kazuha and Wonyoung exchanging troubled looks to each other before meeting your frame with forlorn eyes.
“W-what is it? Did something happen?” You pressed, sensing the dark cloud that slowly engulfed the three of you in the now dull kitchen space.
Wonyoung fidgeted with the beaded bracelet on her wrist before answering you with a shaky breath.
“Sunghoon isn’t here with us.”
Beep, beep, beep.
Awaking from your dream as if struck by lightening, you reached out a hand at the sound of your vibrating phone rumbling against your nightstand, revealing Heeseung’s contact flashing on your screen.
It was now 7 o’clock on the dot.
“Heeseung?” You asked in a groggy voice, rubbing your eyes from how brightly the sun shone from your bedroom window.
“Hi, I’m standing outside your door right now. Are you home? I knocked over ten minutes ago—”
Boop, boop.
You abruptly cut the call, putting on a pair of shorts (since you slept only in your panties), as you ran to answer the door.
Heeseung was standing there in a very nice outfit, but your current emotions weren’t interested in the slightest.
You practically leaped on him, shaking his shoulders with crazy eyes as you spit out words you yourself could hardly keep up with.
“Sunghoon!! H-he’s- He’s still alive, Heeseung! He never died! That… ugh, that means he's still out there! He's wants me dead, Heeseung! That explains everything!!"
“____, slow down. I can hardly understand a word you’re saying,” he chuckled, cupping your face in his hands, “breathe for me, okay?”
“I- I am breathing, Heeseung,” you sighed, anxiety pumping stronger in your veins than oxygen.
“I know,” he smiled, kissing you on the nose, “can I come in so you can tell me everything?”
You let him inside, taking a seat on your living room couch as he helped himself to fixing both of you a cup of coffee as if you were his guest.
“It was a dream, but… it all felt so real.”
“And I get that, but you know you’re not supposed to entertain those sorts of thoughts,” he half frowned, placing the warm mugs on the coffee table before you, “Now be honest with me, did you want to stay in the dream? Did part of you maybe want to think about Sunghoon?”
“Heeseung-“
“You know I have to ask these questions, ____. What kind of answers were you looking for?”
He peered into your eyes as if searching you for the words you were too afraid to say.
That’s when your phone blared with a text from Yunjin.
“Oh, crap!” you pouted, swiping the message on your phone, “I’ve gotta get ready for work in a few minutes…”
Heeseung tried to maintain his cool demeanor, “Well, can we at least finish our coffee first before you abandon me?”
“Of course, Hee,” you smiled, taking a sip of the milky beverage, “what were you doing here so early, anyway?”
He almost appeared to be caught off guard by your question, but you brushed off the suspicion, blaming it on the dream you’d just had.
“Oh- don’t worry about that now. Let’s just enjoy this moment before you go off to serve the fellow coffee-holics in our city.”
Yes, you and Heeseung often behaved as if you were in a seriously committed relationship, but at the end of the day, there was no label between you two.
A few more minutes passed, and your mugs were empty.
“Thanks for stopping by, Heeseung, but I’ve gotta get ready,” you smiled, walking him to your front door.
“You’re welcome, ____. And by the way, I saw your message. I really appreciate you being mature about everything, and I hope that you forgive me for the way I acted,” he said as you slowly closed the door in front of him, beelining to your bathroom to brush away your coffee breath.
2:47pm
Café Royale was closing early for the day as inspections were scheduled during your afternoon shift, so your entire team had the rest of the day off.
You decided to stay back to do some last-minute tidying before you’d leave.
All there was left to do was throw out the table flower water and leave a note for the inspectors.
That’s when you heard a thud against the back wall of the kitchen, high-pitched pleas falling from a familiar voice.
Leeseo.
You dropped the the flower vase, not caring that it shattered on the ground as you made a run toward the door, following the ruckus outside.
On the side of the bakery, you found the two girls from the restaurant pinning Leeseo against the wall while a girl you didn’t quite recognize recorded the ordeal.
Leeseo’s eyes were squeezed shut as the girl brought the camera closer to her face, “Don’t act all shy now, slut. We know how much you like being on camera,” Maeve cackled.
The part of you that would usually freeze in moments like this had died with Wonyoung.
You marched towards the girl recording, snatching the phone from her hand before launching it into the nearby parking lot.
“What the fuck,” she exclaimed before cowardly backing away. You yanked Aiko away from Leeseo, grabbing her face in your hand.
The two other girls were already making a run for it as your grip on Aiko's face tightened, causing her to wince at the feeling.
“Aren’t you like a grown woman or something? Get your hands off me!!” She squealed, possibly forgetting how to use her arms as she fought dumbly trying to escape your hold.
“I hope you didn’t think that shit was funny,” you said, observing her dull blue eyes.
There was nothing behind them, complete emptiness.
Much like Maddison, you thought to yourself.
“You leave Leeseo alone from now on, alright? She’s a hard working girl and doesn’t need punks like you making her life more difficult.”
Aiko's gaze darted between you and Leeseo who stood awkwardly in front of the wall, “An innocent, hard-working girl, huh? Wow... you really are two-faced.”
“I don’t think you answered her question,” Leeseo pitched.
Aiko only laughed in response, blinking a few times before answering, “Like I said, get your fucking hands off me, or there’s gonna be a serious problem,” she taunted, titled her head before you let go, watching as she walked away.
“See you at school, Flash,” she smiled, disappearing behind a corner.
“What’d she just call you?”
“Nothing!” Leeseo responded, a bit louder than planned.
“Don’t lie to me, kiddo. What does that name mean?”
“It means I’m a slut, okay? Just like they said,” she sighed, picking up her apron that the girls had thrown on the ground earlier, “a stupid slut that sends stupid photos to stupid boys who tell stupid girls.”
You couldn’t think of anything else to say to her in the moment, as you’re sure she had heard enough of your advice.
All you did was pull her in for a hug, running a hand through her hair as she fought with the lump growing in her throat.
“You are not a stupid slut, Leeseo. You’re a teenage girl just trying to survive in this world,” you encouraged, breaking from the embrace.
That’s when you noticed Nate from afar, walking closer as you and Leeseo tried to recollect yourself.
“What was that all about?” He asked, giving Leeseo a side hug as she hid her face from him shyly.
“Depends, how much did you see?”
“Well, I saw you get all handsy with that high schooler who was harassing our girl over here,” he huffed, “you okay, Sissy?”
“Yeah, Nate, I’m fine,” she nearly whispered, crossing her arms.
“Look, Nate, I’m not usually that aggressive. I just couldn’t hold back when I saw-"
“____, stop your rambling,” he smiled, bringing a finger to your lip for a moment, “You were fucking amazing. Most girls wouldn’t have reacted the way you did, and I’m sure Leeseo is grateful that you stood up for her.”
You felt you stomach flutter at his words, or maybe it was whatever compelled him to touch your lips.
“Yeah, Nate’s right. You’re like… kind of a badass now.”
“Oh, only kind of,” you chuckled, nudging her waist.
“Yeah, because you let her go.”
Nate nodded in agreement with Leeseo, shrugging his shoulders in a teasing way, “She does have a point there, ____.”
“Well, it’s important to end your battles just as wisely as you pick them,” you said, the three of you walking towards the parking lot.
“Well said, Yoda,” Nate teased, making eye contact with you before speaking, “so, you doing anything after this?”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta clean up some glass I dropped in the shop, but I’ll text you later if I can meet up.”
“Okay,” he smiled, giving you and Leeseo both one last hug before heading back to wherever he came from, “Stay out of trouble, you guys!”
“We’ll try,” Leeseo called out, walking towards the cafe.
“Hey, you’re off for the day. Enjoy your time-off.”
“I will… after I return the favor,” she winked, heading towards the utility unit and grabbing a broom.
10:15pm
Despite having gotten off from work early, you still felt a little worn out from a certain series of events that occurred earlier. So, you decided to calm yourself down with a nice evening bath before bed.
After blow drying your hair, you proceeded with some simple skincare steps before finally ended with moisturizer.
That’s when you got a call from Yunjin. She was never one to call you this late, so you answered the call, hoping that everything was okay on her end.
“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, holding the phone to your ear as you closed your container of face cream.
“Oh my God, someone’s trying to kill me!”
“You’re joking.”
“No, I’m dead serious. Poor choice of words, but I’ve been running for five minutes and I’m about to give up,” she said, voice starting to crack, “…I thought it was funny at first, but now I’m really scared.”
“Oh my God, do you still see them?” You asked again, clutching to your phone.
“No, but I can hear their feet… I’m so fucking scared, ____.”
“I know, Jinnie. Where are you?”
“In the neighborhood-“
“Okay, I’m calling the police-“
“No, ____, don’t hang up!”
“Yunjin, I HAVE to.”
“Please don’t! I already tried but they sent me to the holding line… I just need to hear your voice right now, okay?”
“This is ridiculous! Your life is on the line here, I have to do something!” You cried, heart racing with your feet as you rushed to put on your coat, grabbing your car keys, “I’m gonna call them right now.”
“F-fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stammered, starting to sob, “you really shouldn’t hang up right now, ____.”
“Everything is going to be okay, Yunjin, just keep talking to me, I’m on my way to you!” You panted, running to your car without even making sure your apartment door was locked. “Do you still hear them?”
“Yes, and they’re getting faster! I don’t know what to do,” she said, choking on her own breath.
“Yunjin, sweetie, I need you to calm down. Your nerves are only going to make things worse.”
“What the fuck, ____, I’m gonna die!!”
“Fuck, Yunjin, don’t say that! Look around, is there anywhere you can hide? Any possible weapons?”
“No, I can’t see shit out here!!”
“Wait- I think I see you,” you said, zipping down the street.
“Is that your car? AHHH!”
“Yunjin!?!! What happened?!?!”
“I tripped- ugh, fuck…,” she sobbed, getting up with adrenaline until she caught a glimpse of the cherry colored blood dripping down her leg, making her feel lightheaded.
“Yunjin, are you okay?”
“Eugh- yeah,“ she groaned, “I just can’t feel my fucking legs… hurry!!”
“Shit, I lost you…,” you cursed under your breath until it hit you, “WAVE YOUR PHONE AROUND ON FLASH!”
“I- o-okay, okay!” She stuttered, fumbling with the phone in her hand as she put on the flash and did as you said.
You saw the faint white light radiating from her smartphone about three houses ahead of you.
Slamming your foot on the gas, you nearly flew down the street, a screeching sound echoing from your tires.
Your brakes came to a clean stop as you drifted around the corner, rolling down your car windows.
“Hurry, get in, get in!”
Yunjin only nodded as she ran toward the car, shoulder jerking as the car door resisted in opening.
“What the fuck, ____, unlock the damn door!!”
“Fuck, I did!!” You cried, frantically pressing the unlock button.
Quick thinking kicked in as Yunjin opted for the window, crawling in desperately as the hooded and masked figure sprinted towards your vehicle from behind her.
You reached out your hand to pull Yunjin’s body into the car the rest of the way before zooming off, the crazy killer having gotten just close enough to graze her calf with his blade.
“Hughh,” She exhaled, struggling to get a hold of her breath, “how does he know you?”
Darting through the neighborhood, you tried your best to escape the psycho, even though he didn’t have a chance to catch up with you on foot.
“W- what? What do you mean?”
“The guy in the mask, he said that he was gonna kill me because of YOU, ____! Holy shit, and he was tall as fuck with that freaky ass voice you were telling me about… And there was another girl out tonight! Oh my God, I bet he went after her too!”
“Another girl??” your voice raised slightly, "w-what'd she look like?"
"She's... I've seen her before... that kid... the one from Leeseo's school who comes around the café sometimes."
"Maeve?"
"No, not her... the prettier one."
You didn't wanna think about how Aiko was likely running for her life outside right now, but it was too late to turn around, so you distracted yourself by something else, “…how’s your leg doing?”
“Fine,” she whined, wiping the tears of black mascara that painted her cheeks.
“I don’t feel safe anymore,” she continued, shaking her head as her lower lip quivered, “none of us should…”
“I know, Yunjin.”
“You keep saying that, but I get the feeling there are a lot of things you’re late on clearing up about this, ____. Help me know, too.”
Your chest raised as you took a deep breath, letting out a sigh before answering, “that guy tonight…. I can’t say that I’m sure, but I think it’s Heeseung.”
“Your boyfriend,” she asked confused.
“He’s not my boyfriend, Jinnie.”
“Yeah, and I also doubt he’s a fucking psychopath. Isn’t he a doctor? He helps people for a living, you know?”
“Fuck, Yunjin, he’s the only other person who knows the full story. It just makes sense.”
Silence filled the car for a moment.
“Okay, now THIS is ridiculous. For the love of God, could you think of any other person that would possibly wanna torture us like this,” Yunjin nagged, looking at you as your eyes were still trained on the road.
“It… it could be… I’m just guessing, but… Sunghoon?”
“Huh,” Yunjin scoffed in disbelief, “So your dead boyfriend?”
“Whatever you wanna call it,” you replied sharply, feeling frustrated from life itself.
“Great, so what do we do about him now? How do we beat the final boss?”
Your grip around the steering wheel tightened as both fear and shame rose in your gut. You dreaded the moment you shared your past with Yunjin, and you dreaded the guilt that came with her almost losing her life because of it.
You took a deep breath and focused your eyes on the road, trying to fight back the tears that dared to spill from your terrorized eyes.
“We tell Nate,” you said, making a U-turn as you trailed down the road.
"Right, the computer obsessed nerd who drinks way too much coffee...” she cheered facetiously before continuing, “oh, and do you have an aspirin with you by any chance?"
"No. Here, drink this for now," you said, handing her the water bottle from your car door that you don't even remember purchasing.
She shook her head, taking a long sip from the bottle before resting it between her legs, "All I know is that this costume party better be fucking worth it."
➠ thursday
2:26am
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3:43pm
You took Nate up on his previous offer to hang out and decided to invite him to have drinks with you and Yunjin at the local outdoor tea shop. That's where you two decided to tell him everything that happened the other night.
“I just... I don’t know what to do anymore, Nate," you frowned, stirring the tapioca pearls at the bottom of your cup.
“Every problem has a solution, ____. Your goal is to have your normal life back, right?”
“Yes, you know that, Nate. All I've wanted for the past few months is a slice of normalcy.”
He looked at Yunjin, whose facial expression mirrored the frown you wore, trying to come up with something, if anything at all, to grant you this craved slice of the ordinary.
“Fine. I have an idea in mind, but you might think it's a little crazy.”
"Crazier than looking over your shoulder every five seconds in fear of some punk with a knife kink," Yunjin asked in a goofy tone.
"Not quite," he began, taking a sip of his tea before continuing, "I've been meaning to throw this Halloween party at my house for a while. I'll text you all the updates if you're interested, but people will be wearing costumes."
"You're solution is a fashionably belated adult dress-up party?" Yunjin asked, yet stated in disapproval.
"Exactly. It'll be fun and best of all, normal. Obviously there's no pressure for you two to come, it was just an... a dumb idea, I guess-"
"No!" You excitedly interjected in Nate's defense, "That's actually a really great idea, Nate! We're young adults for crying out loud. Silly parties are literally a defining point of our culture."
You're not sure what got into you, but Kazuha would be proud of your willingness to mingle if she was here. Despite your past experiences with costume parties and undeniable intorvertism, you weren't gonna let some masked goon get in the way of your chance at feeling normal again, even if it was only for a few hours.
Yunjin cocked an eyebrow at you in confusion and concern, "I don't know, ____. Being in an environment like that can disturb your recovery. Plus, I'm not sure if that's the safest idea either, considering how that midnight prankster literally cut me."
"We'll be together the entire time," Nate bud in, "I'm a pretty strong guy, y'know? And from what I've seen, ____ here can be pretty badass when it comes to defense."
You tried not to laugh at the memory of Aiko and Leeseo's parking lot showdown yesterday. It flattered you that Nate viewed your protectiveness as a sign of courage, even though you might've gotten a little carried away.
"Uhmmmm, she's blushing... Why is she blushing?! ____, did something happen that I don't know about? Nate, for the love of God, would you please stop smirking!!" Yunjin huffed, dying to know about this obvious inside joke Nate just told.
"I'm not smirking," he lied, chuckling at Yunjin's words as he struggled to look her in the face out of embarrassment.
"We're not hiding anyyyything. Right Nate?" You giggled, flashing him a corny wink.
Yunjin rolled her eyes at you two, taking an annoyed sip from her boba as you guys fought the growing urge to buss out laughing.
That's when you all spotted Leeseo walking home from school with her hair covering her face. You made an effort to call her over, but she obviously ignored you until Nate said something.
"Sissy," He almost whispered with a now forced smile, sensing that something was off by her foggy aura.
She stopped right in her tracks, bashfully lifting her head to reveal her tear-stained cheeks.
The three of you got up from your table, rushing over to comfort her.
"Hey, why the long face, kiddo?" Yunjin asked, taking Leeseo's backpack so the poor girl could finally relax her anxious shoulders.
"S-something happened to Aiko last night," she let out through broken sniffles, "Maeve was telling the whole school about it today."
Oh my God, you thought to yourself.
A worried expression wavered over Nate's features, "W-well... what'd she say?"
"She was talking on the phone with Aiko last night to make sure she got home safely. That's when Aiko said this weird guy kept texting her... Maeve listened to the whole thing..."
"Leeseo, I'm kind of missing the point here," Yunjin pressed, not being able to read through her words clearly.
"Aiko told Maeve that some guy in a costume started chasing her... Another girl was running away with her, but Aiko couldn't tell who she was..."
"Leeseo..."
"Maeve said she heard Aiko stop running, followed by painful screaming and coughing... we don't know for sure but... people are saying that its a ghost face copycat-"
Nate stopped her mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around her as she weeped into his chest.
"I know it's silly that I'm crying because she was such a bitch to me," her voice cracked, tears leaving darkened grey spots on Nate's turtleneck.
"You're not silly for having a heart, Leeseo," you said softly, holding your own hands from how cold your surroundings suddenly became.
"They found her body, ____," she sobbed, hardly being able to contain her breathing, "that freak killed her."
Nothing else was said as there was nothing left to say. You all stood around Nate and Lesseo in a circle, meddling on the increasingly horrifying status of your realities.
Turns out that the new masked goon on the street wasn't some lame copy cat, but unfortunately, someone much more sinister.
➠ friday
11:54am
During your lunch break, you decided to tell Heeseung about Nate's costume party tonight. Not because you wanted him to join you or anything... mostly because you thought it'd be the right thing to let him know. Though, if you knew he would've reacted in the way he did, you simply would've avoided telling him altogether.
"Why would you go to a party like that, ____?" He scolded, shaking his head at you, "People in masks, carrying fake knives and what not. You're not ready, ____! A kid was literally just stabbed to death in our neighborhood!"
"I am ready, Heeseung! Hell, I don't even remember what Sunghoon looks like at this poin. He's officially a part of my past now, and I thank you for everything you've done to help me heal since that, but please, don't ruin this for me."
"Ruin your mood before a bogus late Halloween party?" He scoffed, leaning against the wall in the cafeteria.
You decided to break the news to him after surprising him at work with some lunch you made for him that morning. You understood exactly where he was coming from: Heeseung only wanted the best for you ever since day one, but you still wish he wouldn't have been so harsh about something as simple as a costume party.
"Please don't get mad at me for asking, but have you stopped taking your meds?"
Your heart dropped at his words. Was there an obvious difference in your behavior that would make him know that?
Now it was your turn to feel guilty, "I'm sorry for not telling you, Heeseung. I haven't taken any over the last few days, but I promise you, I've never been happier!"
"____, you think I don't know about that little stunt at your job? Your emotions are out of control!"
"I only stopped taking the meds because Nate suggested I give them a break. If me not feeding into fear is what losing control of me emotions looks like, then so be it," you fought back.
"God, listen to yourself, ____. Valuing the advice of this Nate guy over me, a professional healthcare provider? Where's your trust in me?" He frowned, voice falling to a whisper.
Beep, beep, beep, the cafeteria microwave chimed through the tension of the room. Heeseung had put the lunch you made him in there a few minutes ago, and you're sure it was pretty over-warmed by now.
"I'm trusting in myself from now on," you replied, adjusting your purse over your shoulder and turning to walk away from him, "Enjoy your food, Heeseung."
9:03pm
Once again, it was a Friday night and the mood was right, as you liked to say.
The decorations, the vibes and snack table—it was all reminiscent of Sunghoon's party last summer, but minus the fear that came with it.
Better.
You couldn't help but think about Kazuha in the atmosphere.
Parties were always her scene, and now that you think about it, Yunjin had a spirit very similar to Kaz, and Nate… well, he was a lot like the person Sunghoon had fooled you into thinking he was.
Kind, gentle, healing.
You and Yunjin were dressed to impress in your flirty cat costumes, Nate opting for a more relaxed apparel in a graphic sweatshirt, silver chains, and ripped jeans.
"It's my emo persona," he clarified for the both of you who were still confused as to why he didn't dress up at his own party.
"Cool, so does this emo version of you go by a different name orrr-"
"You died your hair black," you interrupted, staring in shock.
Nate's smile froze before twisting into something more mischievous, "Yeah, I did. Too bad our friend Yunjin here didn't notice... have you been drinking?" He teased, poking her on the forehead.
"Hands off, Lil Huddy, and no, I'm still waiting for the host to show me where the bar is."
"As you wish," he smiled, taking you and Yunjin's hand in his, slipping past the crowd and beelining toward his indoor bar.
One Of The Girls pulsed from the radio speakers, thrumming through the party air as surrounding bodies either swayed or made conversation to the rhythms. The mysterious aura of the song lingered in your limbs as you struggled to wrap your head around what bothered you about Nate's costume tonight.
You didn't wanna say it was the hair, because this new, dark look made him undeniably more attractive. Still, there was something different about his eyes. Something that made you feel uneasy.
So you brushed it off.
"What's your poison," Nate asked with a cheesy grin, placing three chilled shot glasses and a drink mixer on the counter.
“Hmm,” You began, tapping at your chin, “how about something creamy with a dairy base? In honor of our feline outfits.”
“Got it,” he huffed, rolling up his sleeves and examining the array of shelved alcohols behind him. He went for a bottle of banana liquor and crème de cacao. Pouring the amber liquids into the mixers along with some whole milk and ice, he gave it a theatrical shake before pouring it into your shot glasses. “Voila, my ladies! Tell me what you think,” Nate hummed, looking into your eyes as he licked the bead of milk from the rim of the cup.
Yunjin took a sip first and then you, surprisingly pleasant flavors of warm chocolate greeting your taste buds. “Woah, this is actually really good! The banana doesn’t taste synthetic, either!” Yunjin chirped, going back for another sip.
“That’s because I only buy the finest quality products for my guests,” Nate said, eyes turning back to you as he leaned over the counter, wiping the sweet foam from your lips with his thumb.
“Jeez, I’m still right here, y’know?” Yunjin cringed, making you and Nate both feel a little shy.
“What’s this drink called anyway? I wanna make it at home sometime,” Yunjin continued.
“It’s called a Banshee. You can look up the recipe online.”
“Oooh, sounds dangerous.”
“It’s not. Most Banshee’s only warn of pending deaths, while others relish in the pain of people who’ve harmed them in some way.”
“Interesting, but what does that have to do with bananas and chocolate,” you asked.
“The short answer is nothing at all,” Nate said, walking around the counter to sit in between you and Yunjin, “it’s just a silly name, I guess.”
After you three finished up your drinks, you headed back to the dance floor where you made absolute fools of yourselves. Yunjin, who got the dropsies early on, called in an Uber to drive her back home.
“Yunjin, I’m not letting you go home alone while drunk,” you retorted, walking her to the car, “Besides, I’m sure your driver won’t mind looking at two pussies for the night.”
“Yeah,” she giggled, leaning her head into your shoulder, “but maybe some other time when I'm a little more in touch,” she smiled, drawing your attention to the tinted windows of the vehicle. You could barely make out what the driver looked like.
“Anyways, you and Nate deserve this night together. I’ll be fine, I promised,” she said with slurred words as you watched her enter the vehicle.
“Okay, Jinnie. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you waved as the car pulled off.
“Tomorrow!” She cheered back before rolling up the window.
10:16pm
The party continued as normal, you and Nate sticking by each others side for the entire time. As expected, a few ghostface cosplayers welcomed themselves to the party space, but you weren’t gonna let them worry you.
Buzz. Buzz.
Your phone vibrated in your purple handbag. Pulling out your phone, the bright screen revealed an incoming call from an unknown number.
What a wonderful surprise, you thought to yourself.
You went to press the hangup button, but Nate stopped your hand, meeting your eyes with his encouraging ones.
“Go on… answer it,” he almost whispered, securing your waist with his protective hand.
You’re not sure what compelled you to listen to him, but you felt strong enough to answer the call just as casually as it came.
“Who is this,” you asked dumbly, your gut having told you exactly who it was before answering.
“Does my voice ring any bells?”
Gut wrong. It was Heeseung. You had forgotten all about how you blocked him a few hours after your argument to make sure he didn't get in the way of your party plans. That explains why he called from a burner number.
“What do you want, Hee,” you said with a sigh, now walking away from Nate’s hold.
“Oh, so first, you risk your health by going against my advice, and now I’m not allowed to check on you, either?”
“I’m fine, Hee,” you answered, only for another ring tone to fill your ear.
You glanced at the phone screen: another unknown number was intersecting the call.
“Gimme a second,” you paused, accepting the incoming call and putting Heeseung’s line on hold.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”
Nevermind. Gut actually right, just slightly delayed. It was the ghostface creep calling to ruin your fun.
“Enjoying what, exactly?" You pressed, already feeling yourself get a little nervous.
"Enjoying this taste of normalcy, of course. You're not trying to forget about me, are you princess?" The gravelly voice slithered, sending chills down your spine.
It was obvious that this psycho wanted you to think they were some kind of Sunghoon Park reincarnate, coming back to haunt you all over again. The part that you didn't understand, however, was how they knew so much and why they were willing to kill for the sake of a prank.
"Look, I don't have time for your games right now, stay out of my life," You bit back, trying to hide just how scared you truly were.
"Oh, ____, we both know that I can't do that. But I'll promise you this much: No more games tonight. Deal?"
You took a moment to breath before answering, "D-deal."
"Perfect. Now if you're a smart girl who learns from her mistakes, you won't hang up until I say so," the voice hissed.
The sound of what you assumed was a vinyl record scratching against a pin met your anxious ear, an upbeat piano tune rumbling from the track.
"Unusual. They say strange fascination, in...fatuation! A lunatic."
"What is this," you couldn't help but ask, even though you knew there wouldn't be an answer.
"Cause my insides are red, and yours are too! And the red on my face is matching you," the chilling recording sang, "And goodness you're bleeding. What a wonderful feeling. You're down and you're pleading. My head is just reeling-"
You subconsciously walked back closer to Nate as the chorus erupted, bumping into him as you were lost in whatever trance this freak was successfully putting on you.
The urge to hang up grew stronger with each second, but you knew better than to test your luck so soon.
"ꪻꫝꫀ ᥅ꫀᦔ ꪑꫀꪖꪀᦓ ꠸ ꪶꪮꪜꫀ ꪗꪮꪊ " The final lyric whined before the phone call ended abruptly.
Heeseung's line appeared to have cut a few minutes ago, too.
No... he hung up on you.
You called Heeseung back who immediately answered, “Where are you?” You started, not even trying to hide your sense of urgency.
"Why, your new boyfriend abandoned you already?"
"Cut the crap, Heeseung, where are you??” Your voice cracked this time.
"God, I’m at home, ____, why--"
Nate snatched your phone, cutting the call as he turned you to face him, "What the hell was that all about?"
“That ghost face creep wanted me to stay on the phone while he serenading me...”
"You're kidding."
"I wish. Too bad I got scared into listening."
"It's okay. I'm sure you did the right thing. Now where are we headed."
"Wherever Heeseung is. I'm skeptical that he may be behind all of this, but if he's not, that phone call I got was just a distraction. He could be in trouble." You said, taking Nate's hand in yours as you led him outside of the party and to his car.
"Okay. Is there any way you can track his location?"
"Yeah, as long as he has his phone with him," you said, getting in the car and putting on your seatbelt.
Nate passed you your phone so you could pull up Heeseung's whereabouts. From the looks of it, he was driving somewhere, and definitely not home like he said he was.
"What's he doing in the middle of nowhere?" Nate asked, narrowing his eyes at the phone screen.
"I have know idea, but we have to follow him," you said, holding up your phone for Nate to follow the directions.
10:20pm
Yunjin sat quietly in the backseat, observing the night skyline behind the foggy car windows in between her recurrent dozing.
A certain bump in the road caused the car to shake, disrupting Yunjin's slumber once again. That's when she overheard the Uber driver on the phone with someone.
"Hey... not sure if I'm hallucinating or not, but were you just on the phone with my friend?” She asked, having heard a familiar voice on the other end of the call.
The driver didn't pay Yunjin any mind as he continued speaking on the phone, the female voice repeating the name "Heeseung" a few times before hanging up.
"Oh my gosh!" She gasped in shock, taking in the view of the drivers face from the rearview mirror, "You’re Heeseung? Wow, you’re like... wayyyyy hotter than I thought you’d be. Respectfully, of course, since you and ____ have history. She is literally so lucky to have you around.”
“She sure is," he said with a forced smiled, but it didn't quite reach his dark, doe eyes.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he turned down yet another rocky trail.
“Hey, I think you made a wrong turn, my street is that way…” Yunjin mumbled, not wanted to come off as bossy.
“Oh- Yeah, I'm taking a short cut to avoid traffic, don't worry about it.”
She simply nodded in response, dozing off for another 10 minutes before waking back up again. Yunjin was never really a lightweight when it came to drinking. If anything, it sometimes seemed as though she was immune to its effects.
"What the hell was in that Banshee," she thought to herself, rubbing the heaviness from her glittery eyes before looking back out the window again, taking in the view of trees and wildlife that made up her surroundings.
“Hey, we’ve been on this road for a while now, are you sure you're on the right path?”
Heeseung pursed his lips at her question, taking a breath and holding it in his chest for a moment, “I can't take you home tonight," he said, eyes still trained on the road ahead of him as he locked the doors.
"Haha, very funny, but suddenly, I gotta piss. So unless you wanna smell my golden release in your car for the next month, I suggest you take another detour, Dr. Lee," She threatened, unbuckling her seatbelt to ease the pressure around her stomach.
"I'm afraid I don't have much time to tell you this, but someone from ____'s past is out to hurt the both of you. You need to understand that Nate is not who he says he is," Heeseung frowned, letting go of the breath he'd been holding.
“Yeah, no kidding, but that still doesn't explain where the fuck you're taking me,” Yunjin retorted, fidgeting with the car door handle as a way to annoy him.
“Would you please stop doing that? I'm already on edge right now, and you would be too if you actually listened to what I'm saying," Heeseung sighed, raising his voice slightly.
"I am listening."
"Great, so hear this. I'm taking you somewhere safe from whatever's to come tonight.. otherwise, you could be in even more trouble.”
Yunjin let his words sink in before answering, "Okay, I hope that I'm making the right decision by trusting you, but what about ____?"
"I'll take care of her after this, just focus on yourself right now," he replied, pulling the vehicle into the driveway of a mysterious log cabin cradled within the depths of the forest.
"Get out," Heeseung said, exiting the vehicle with haste as Yunjin followed after him, walking up to the front door where a key was hidden beneath the doormat.
"Just follow me, he'll find you too easily up here," he went on, grabbing her hand and leading her to the downstairs basement.
With how fast Heeseung was moving, Yunjin barely had enough time to make out her surroundings, her peripheral vision being filled with colors instead of identifiable objects... Or maybe that was the affect of Nate's Banshee still lingering in her system.
The last thing she'd remember was Heeseung bringing her into the basement before closing the door, approaching her with a wooden chair in his grasp as everything around her went black.
10:52pm
According to your phone's GPS, you were still a few minutes shy from arriving at Heeseung's location. Though, the undeniable familiarity of your surroundings brought up a feeling of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.
The way the moonlight peeked through the trees, casting an ominous glow on the hood of Nate's car was all too reminiscent of a few scenes from your nightmares.
Scenes where Sunghoon would drive you to and from the clinic as if it were a daycare center for punished girls, watching from the hospital cafeteria window as bright mornings slowly faded into a starry nights.
Much like tonight, that is.
The bright car headlights of the vehicle glazed the surface of a rectangular sign hanging above the front door of the shady cabin. hidden within the first as Nate pulled into the driveway. A sign that read the words "Park Lodge."
Another sight that caught your attention was the same Uber car that Yunjin got into and the front door that was left open.
Oh God, help me please, you thought to yourself, or maybe prayed, fidgeting with your fingers as Nate stopped the car, ceasing the calming sound of the air conditioner.
"Are you sure you wanna go in, or would you rather stay out here," Nate asked softly, looking in your direction as you simply stared in your lap.
Still dressed in your slutty cat costume, you couldn't help but feel silly, almost as though you'd gotten dressed up to make a fool out of yourself tonight.
So many thoughts and questions were running through your head: Was Yunjin okay? Why the hell would Heeseung come here? Does he have something to do with this recent outbreak of ghost face hysteria? Who could you trust?
Slam.
You closed the car door, leaving your hand bag behind, walking up to the cabin with Nate beside you.
Despite everything you'd been through, this was easily one of the most frightening experiences of them all, but you couldnt let fear get the best of you.
Not yet.
Not now.
"What is this place," he asked, taking in the interior design of this forbidden cabin you knew all too well.
"My former torture chamber," you sighed, opening door after door in search of anything at all, "The place where Sunghoon would..." your voice trailed off, "the place where it all happened."
Nate only hummed at your words, eyes scanning your movements as you continued to search the space like a maniac, but to no avail.
That's when you saw a trail of dirt leading to the basement.
Two trails, that is. One from a man and the other from a female.
"In here!" You called out to Nate who ran towards you, twisting the door handle that refused to grant you access.
"Step back," he said, and you did, watching as he gave the door a few kicks before it slung open, the handle clashing with the wall behind it.
"Watch your step," he warned, taking in the extravagant view of steps that lead to whatever was hiding within the darkness of the basement aside from the many demons Sunghoon left behind.
Step by step, you watched as your feet met each level, Nate's shoes clicking behind yours. Once your boots finally met solid ground, you weren't too surprised to see Heeseung pacing around the room casually.
You didn't even realize Nate was holding your hand until he let go of it, leaving your side for reasons you didn't immediately understand.
“What’re you doing here!?” You nearly shouted, a disgusted look wavering over your face at Heeseung's relaxed demeanor.
But to your surprise, he didn't answer, only watching as Nate made his way to the closet, looking to Heeseung before asking, "Is she in here?"
Heeseung nodded, and with that, Nate took it upon himself to open the closet door, revealing none other than Yunjin's unconscious body sitting, no, tied to a chair with rope, a rectangle of duck tape covering her mouth.
You’re not sure why you just stood there and watched, but you did. Something about seeing yet another person end up in a bad situation simply because they were your friend made you freeze.
Nate’s previously nervous expression was taken over by a much more malicious one, his hand going to grab a handful of Yunjin's hair before giving her head a shake, “Is anybody home,” he snickered, but she remained asleep, only groaning at his actions.
“Don’t touch her like that!” You finally yelped, causing Yunjin to regain her consciousness from the loudness of your voice.
Nate removed the tape from her mouth.
“_-____?” She stuttered over your name through half lidded eyes, looking back at you.
Slice.
Blood trickled down Nate’s arm as he dug the rim of his knife further into the flesh of Yunjin’s throat, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as her arms tensed up from the pain.
“Shit, looks like I missed the rope,” Nate pouted facetiously, letting her head hang forward as he licked the bead of blood that trailed down his knife, “I've always had bad aim.” “Why the hell did you do that!!” Heeseung yelled, running up to Nate and pushing him away from Yunjin, “We agreed that we weren’t gonna kill her, that’s why I told you to spike her drink in the first place!”
“But gosh, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Nate defended, to which Heeseung scoffed annoyedly.
“Yunjin didn’t hurt your sister! And she wasn’t like that other girl you killed that night. Our other targets deserved to die. Not her,” Heeseung said with a heavy voice, almost as if wanting to cry, but you knew he wouldn’t.
Closing the closet door, a look of disappointment wavered over his features, “You're loosing grip of your purpose, Sunghoon.”
You felt as though your world stopped spinning at the realization of everything that was going on.
So you weren't just going crazy this entire time?
“N-…. N-no, it can’t be,” you stuttered, feeling as though your legs would give out. “Don’t touch me!” You barked as Heeseung tried to catch you from falling, which you did anyway, right to your knees.
“This whole time… S-Sunghoon, I...I thought... y-you're supposed to be dead,” your voice cracked, another tear joining the cloudy stream that already stained your face.
“With that logic, I guess I'm supposed to be a lot of things... Sane, kind, honest. By now though, you should know that I've always danced to the beat of my own drum," Sunghoon smirked, playing with the bloody knife in his hand, "What did you think of that song, by the way? Pretty good, right?"
“You fucking monster! Y-you… you killed two innocent people!”
"Oh, big woop! It's not like they were going to turn out to be anything anyways," Nate scoffed, twirling the weapon once again, "I'm sure you probably have a lot of questions you'd like to ask, so I recommend you start talking before my patience runs out."
"Heeseung... I... I don't understand your role in all of this..."
"There are no excuses for my actions, ____, but I owed it to Sunghoon. We both found each other during some dark times in our lives. He promised to help me get some pretty bad people off my back if in exchange, I helped him kill off that Jun-Hwan guy... I just got in too deep to turn back.”
"But why? Why go on for so long? Why not just kill me off and relish in your fleeting sense of justice?" You cried, not being able to control the tears spilling from your eyes.
Your entire life for the past 6 months had been nothing more than a big fat lie.
“God, didn't I already explain this part to you everyday when I had you down here all those days? I did it for my sister, ____,” Sunghoon hissed.
"So you tortured me everyday for months while I carried your child for some lame attempt at redemption?"
"Exactly. See? I knew you were smart."
“No... maybe in the beginning your intentions were noble, but now you’re just acting on your own sick impulses! You like hurting people!”
"Okay, I thought I told you to ask questions, not lecture me."
“Your entire plan was to make my life a living hell! All that shit you said about loving me was a part of this grand psychological game you’re playing!”
“Bingo! You’re on fire, princess,” he winked, unfazed by your emotional outburst, "Now, in a few seconds, I'm going to slit your eyelids in half so you can watch as I stab you multiple times in the face. Any last words?"
You couldn't even be mad at yourself for falling for his tricks... People always said that psychopaths had a way of making some of the most convincing actors.
"Fuck you," you spat, lips trembling like an earthquake before him.
"Cute. If you so happen to wake up in heaven, tell Wonyoung I said-"
Bang.
A silver bullet lodged through the center of Sunghoon's chest, the loud sound making your ears pop.
Bang.
Another bullet joined the first one in his chest, the silver blade finally falling from his cold grasp and clashing with the wooden floor.
Bang.
This shot went off with a ring, gushing through his forehead as his now lifeless body met you on the floor, splashes of red decorated your skin. It was interesting how his beautiful face stayed in contact after the collision.
Your jaw went slack at the sight, a mixture of terror and surprise running through every cell in your body.
You turned to see the source of the gunfire, finding none other than Leeseo standing with the smokey weapon still pointed at Sunghoon's head, her index finger slowly easing into the trigger again.
"That's enough!!" You yelled, haulting what would've made her fourth shot at him.
Putting the gun on safety, she tucked it into her brown leather jacket, grabbing you by the hands as she lifted you up from the ground, greeting you with her embrace.
"What the hell are you doing here, kiddo," you sniffled in her shoulder, feeling as though your body was on the verge of breaking.
"I suspected Nate had something to do with Aiko's death, so I started following him and noticed that he kept coming back here for some reason," she whispered, breaking from the hug.
"Leeseo-"
"I'm so glad that I brought my dad's pistol with me tonight. I heard that there was a party going on and I had a feeling what kind of monster I was dealing with early on. It sucks to say that my instincts were right-"
"Leeseo-"
"I saw him kill Yunjin from upstairs. I froze at the sight in the same way you did-"
"Leeseo, listen."
"What?" She said, taking your hands in hers.
“Nate wasn't real… his real name is Sunghoon Park.”
She screwed her eyebrows at your words, "Wait- Like the original guy from the ghost face incidents this summer?"
"Yes," you replied plainly.
"But... the news said he died... h-he... no, V hit him with a car outside of the hospital! He was in a coma-"
"Look, there's a lot more to the story that I have yet to tell you because I'm still trying to understand some of it myself... I'm just glad you were brave enough to stand up for us like that."
All she did was smile. Even in the face of danger, she always had a way of bringing sunshine to the room. "Are you sure I shouldn't shoot him one more time though?"
"He's dead, Sissy. For good this time, okay?" You reassured her as the sound of police sirens rumbled from above the basement.
Could this girl get any smarter?
"Hey... Where'd Dr. Lee go," she asked, taking one more good look around the basement.
"Don't worry about Heeseung. He wasn't on our side, either," you sighed as a team of police officers came rushing down the stairs, infiltrating the space.
➠ a little over one week later, monday
You still think about what would’ve happened if you wouldn't have dragged Yunjin into going to Sunghoon's party with you that night. If you didn’t trust "Nate" over your own gut feelings, falling for his charm in the same way you did when you first met him. If you never continued therapy or even a relationship with Heeseung. If you never betrayed Wonyoung for your friends to the point that she was bullied to death.
Would you, Kaz, and Madds still be friends, attending the same university together as you took on the exciting new adventure of adulthood? Would Sunghoon and Jun-Hwan be professional athletes in the Olympics, Wonyoung cheering them both on from the sidelines?
So many questions, but you're afraid there are only limited answers to them at this given moment in time.
Right now, you were rewarded the chance to lead your life the way you wanted, fear-free. “Hey, ____! Are you still down to hang out after work? I wanna show you the poster I was working on for Café Royale's holiday menu!” Leeseo chirped as she untied the bow to her apron, tucking it away in her sack. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” You called out to her, heading to lock up the kitchen before you left.
The owner of Café Royale had flew in town a few days ago, as she was also in search for normalcy some place outside of town. She felt the need to come down and check on things, bidding her condolences. "You might wanna keep a good eye on these," she said, placing the store front keys in your hand as she made her way outside, you following closely behind after hanging your apron over the wall hook. "I really can't thank you enough for this, ma'am," you expressed, watching as she got into her fancy purple car.
"Start by not letting me down. I understand that this is a big responsibility I'm leaving you with, but I know you can handle it. You're a trooper, ____," she smiled, closing her car door before pulling off, joining the rest of the busy vehicles rolling up and down the road. Leeseo was already at your side by now, hooking your arm in hers as she lead you in the direction of her "In Progress Creative Project."
"What'd the boss lady wanna tell you," she started, legs following the exact same step speed at which you walked.
You took a moment to soak up the evening sun, relishing in this feeling of normalcy you oh-so craved for far too long.
Here goes that word again, you thought to yourself, meeting Leeseo's eyes with your own enlightened ones.
"Let's just say I'll be sticking around this town for a lot longer than planned."
Fin.
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❅ Thank you all so much for reading Part 3 of this absolute train wreck of a story! Special thanks to @ashgonedash the original requestor of this story, @squoxle my trusted creative assistant, and @yourmomscuntis2tighy for additional support and creative inspo! Couldn't have done this one without y'all!
❅ Make sure to check out my enhypen bookshelf here for my fun reads and yonder content !!
✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.
taglist: @ashgonedash @nikilvr @ttokyoobv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @fightqueen @addictedtohobi @sltfohoon @lisaaannna @beomgyusonlywife @casualcloddeputyherring @calichuchies-blog @devqrasgirl @rhiannass @lovelycassy @pinapplefntacupss @en-thralled @nikimeows @kaykay11sworld @j-wyoung @flowerbe0m @clarisabutterfliescupcake @wonnyan @sunghoonmyprince @heeseung-min - EVERYONE ELSE I couldn't tag for some reason?? Sowwy hehe
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