#i hope this new ending suffices
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enjoythesilentworld · 5 months ago
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so loaded, eye low ~ ch 4
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“So, you’ve been avoiding me for the past two months,” Simon hissed, voice venomous. “Is this some kind of game to you? Or did that night really mean nothing?” Wille fell onto his back foot, jarred by Simon’s words. “What? No! No, it’s not a fucking game. Are you kidding me? That night was everything!”
or, Wille and Simon try to work things out.
read now on ao3 (E, 4/4).
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good-beans · 1 month ago
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*runs into the room out of breath* Prisoner @justzosiahere! Prisoner @archivalofsins ! You thought you'd seen the end of me, hm? Not so fast!
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(Who knew healing up from my own injuries would take so long, but no matter 👏) The wardens have named you both guilty, and as their chosen hero, it's my job to ensure you get a taste of your own medicine! I'm sorry, but this is what everyone wants đŸ€·â€â™€ïž
And @oboetemasuka, don't think I've forgotten you either...
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Zosia's - Gunsli's - Kyanako's - and eh, I might as well post more art while I'm already doing my duty đŸ«Ą
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bleaksqueak · 3 months ago
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hiya...... i love them both very much sorry for any design inaccuracies i was drawing them from memory....... on that note, do you maybe have any design refs for ur characters? i wanted to draw them fullbudy but the comic is so dynamic and intricate that they always have some shading going on and some parts of their clothes are covered up, so i'm struggling with figuring out the base colors and all the outfit details. thanks again for the awesome comic :-D off to read the new upload!! đŸ’â™„ïžđŸŠ­
Oh my god!! I didn't check tumblr for a couple of days and then come back and find this! I love sketches and pencil/ink drawings so much and they're so super cute how you drew them here!! Thank you so very much, I wish I could hang every drawing people send me on my wall. And look, no worries about design inaccuracies. I leave stuff off all the time, too, and they look perfect to me here. Design sheets!! i've been meaning to upload their full body refs and keep forgetting sfjkafj. These are sadly out of date as they were done before Chapter 0 was even finished, but I hope they suffice for now!
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height side by side and a very very out of date literal-first-doodle of the back of the coat. Here's Audric's, which hasn't really changed at all since this initial design. He's just one of those rare characters that didn't have to go through a refinement phase. His reaper partner's design sheet is mostly done but I'd prefer to release hers when she actually comes into the comic properly.
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Lyra and Audun, tho these are only sketches, both are final designs. Audun will get a clearer ref like Lyra's simple one later, I was designing his outfit in this one since that rank of officer coat hadn't been seen yet And here's a much more up-to-date sketch of Maia that will serve as a new model for her when I get to color it. Elias has a new one started, too, but will have to wait to be shown (... it's that messy lmao)
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And Maia's cloak/coat assets (plus her vault key) that I use for production fitted together, these are up to date! Basically, the color base for their uniform is a dark warm-grey in most scenes (but since the actual uniform coat/cloak is black, this is just done for visibility and often I tint it to reflect whatever light is in the scene or to contrast it. So "it's black, but I usually choose a warm grey base to keep it visible." ... Silver and bronze accents are shown separated here. I put up a patreon pack a while back that has my actual assets and brushes I made for their uniform emblems, but for now, it's visible here)
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orcelito · 1 year ago
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And here I am awake again
Life goes on
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skimblyshanks · 2 years ago
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listen luke evans has the pipes of an angel and the character design is dilftastic but the latest adaptation is committing the greivous sin of making scrooge's problem that he's grouchy and doesn't like the holiday so it's an automatic L
#realized i might sound like im being tongue in cheek but im not#it's a story about wealth distribution and class stratification#also it has enough antisemitic undertones as is#dont make it worse by maki g his crime not liking christmas#the only thing that makes me like the story is generally the turning point at the end of the 2nd ghost's visit#when scrooge gets his own cruelty spat back at him#like i have many feelings abt the whole thing#and the villanization of ppl who dont want anything to do with christmas has made me :/ since i was a kid#but suffice it all to say#i genuinely consider the new movie an L by the fact that Scrooge's problem is that he hates christmas#more than it is that he. idk. abuses his clerk while openly acknowledging he underpays him as well.#advocates workhouses and a bootstrap mentality#and is a malthusian social darwinist#so obsessed with the accumulation of capital that he *doesn't care* that he's causing harm to others#like yeah the character has sad aspects to his backstory but like. fndjfjdkfjek#part of the whole point is that he was making actively harmful selfish choices for years leading up to the present#and the only way to even hope to make up for them was to radically change everything about his relationship to capital#its not *just* abt being nice to the cratchitts. its great that he does become nicer to bob#but the point is also that he needs to stop valuing money above quality of life for *everyone*#and idk man idk it bugs me when it gets simplified down#anyway. -sits down with my Jim Carrey mocap version-
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with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months ago
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HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP
katsuki bakugou x reader
the times bakugou broke your heart
heavily inspired by mbobhft
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1) the denial
“are we breaking up?”
“
yeah.”
“oh.”
his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.
it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.
it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.
he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.
but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.
at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.
at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.
you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.
right?
2) the anger
if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?
your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.
you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.
you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.
and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.
he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.
but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.
he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.
3) the bargaining
please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?
you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.
suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.
4) the depression
everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.
you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.
it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.
5) the acceptance
acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.
part 2 soon!
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goxjo · 27 days ago
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! 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐟𝐭. đŹđźđ€đźđ§đš
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+ synopsis. you should’ve known better when you reached out to your ex 1 year after your break up to get your stuff back, especially when the both of you have so many unresolved feelings. of course discussions are bound to get heated very quickly, and getting pressed up against the wall was definitely not according to plan
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+ cw. no curse au, kabedon, light angst, lots of reminiscing, ex! sukuna, he’s incredibly lovesick and jealous, you and your ‘new guy’ are broken up but he doesn’t know that (yet), lots of pent up frustrations, hatefucking, wall sex, cunnilingus, standing prone bone (?), biting, pet names (babe), making up, creampie, soft ending, 2,100+ words, MDNI
+ aki's note. this is part of @ficsforgaza's kinktober event (again, tysm for letting me join uwu). this is my first time writing sukuna this way and I’m ngl I kinda dig it!! thank you so much for the request @unheavenlypacked and for being so patient <3 ++ I know I went over the word count too but I couldn’t help it :’) hope you like it!!!
+ masterlists. general ┆ jjk ┆ kinktober ┆ ffg kinktober
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In hindsight, maybe you should’ve just accepted his offer to drop off your things. After all, it has been a year. You’re almost certain he’s already moved on by now. But you were very particular about not wanting him to go through the trouble, even if he says it’s no big deal.
You should have thought this through.
He opens the door to the apartment you once shared, and you realize a mental note would have to suffice for now. Because of course he just has to be shirtless like he usually is whenever he stays home, body decorated with black intricate lines stretching and scattered everywhere. And you mean everywhere, including places only you and very few others are acquainted with.
He’s as pretty as ever.
To top it all off, he wears that all-too-familiar scowl that frequented his face whatever the emotion — whether he’s happy, sad, angry, or even horny. Something you’ve always found endearing.
You huff a heavy sigh when you realize the last time you saw each other, you were at each other’s throats. A quick mental pinch reminds you what you’re here to do and what you’re not here to do.
You know they lay of the land, you know where everything should be. There’s absolutely no need to delay things. You take one step to the open space to his side.
“If you’ll excu—”
An arm blocks your way and cuts your words off.
“Do you have to?” He lowers his head, face inching closer to yours.
You refuse to meet his gaze, eyes dead fixed on his taut muscles instead. This doesn’t help your case at all. You’re reminded of how much you used to run your fingers across every dip and mound, you’ve practically mapped his body like he’s done with yours.
“It’s about time.” You shift your gaze to the concrete wall before you start to get deeper into your thoughts. “Don’t you think?”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, clenching his fist before dropping his arm, finally letting you pass. He runs his fingers through his hair in defeat, something he usually does out of frustration.
“Suit yourself.”


You rummage through what used to be your side of the closet, shocked to find he’d kept all your things tidy. Like you never left.
“Find everything?” He comes up behind you close enough, you’re certain you’ll bump into him and areas you shouldn’t be. He runs his knuckles along the small of your back, a sense of hesitation in his touch sending shivers down your spine. Even now, this man has very little regard for personal space.
“Almost.” You lightly twist your body, enough to make him withdraw his hand.
Sukuna leans on the edge of the closet as he watches you empty out your belongings.
“So this new guy
” He gestures to the air. “Jo
 Joso— what’s his face—”
“Choso,” you correct him. Your brows furrow upon realizing one of your shirts is nowhere to be found.
“Yeah, whatever,” Sukuna snickers. “How’s— uh
 how’s that coming along?”
“You really care to know?”
“Fuck no.” Sukuna answers hard and fast, almost spitting to the air.
“Then don’t ask.”
Suddenly, you think to reach behind one of the neatly folded stack of clothes, and you hear him cuss under his breath. And lo and behold, you find your old, worn out, fitted shirt - one that used to make him absolutely go crazy when you wear it.
“Wonder how this ended up there?” Hooked on your finger, you wave the garment around while a guilty Sukuna looks away.
“Fuck.” He clicks his tongue, mumbling. “Can’t even imagine you wearing that in front of him.”
“Wha—” You jolt back, taken aback by his words. “Why do you even care?”
“You seriously going to ask?!”
You blink in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around what you’re hearing.
“You seemed to have no problem when I left, where was this attitude back then?!”
Sukuna jaws clench, taking a deep breath as he throws his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s clearly holding himself back. Slowly, he draws near you, looking into your eyes straight on.
“You told me you fucking needed space.” His voice is low but he emphasizes his words. “But
” His eyes dart to your lips and you don’t miss the way he licks his. “I didn’t ask you to go fuck someone else after 2 whole fucking months!”
“So it’s my fault now?” Your heartbeat thumps against your ribcage as he inches closer and closer to you. “You think I’m gonna sit back after 2 whole fucking months of radio silence?!”
“No!”
“So, then what did you expect me to do?!”
You subconsciously take a step back for every step he takes forward until your back hits the wall.
“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen! I—”
“You what?!”
“Fuck!” he cusses, and the last thing you see is the fist he throws back before you close your eyes and flinch. After that, you hear a thump over your head.
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him looming over you, arm propped above your head, face just inches away from yours.
His chest heaves.
His eyes are fuming.
And the space is suddenly non existent.
He kisses you so fervently, as if a whole year without you has been torture and your lips are the remedy.
You want to scream at him, pull away and make him pay for what he’s done. The skin on your knuckles thin from how hard you’ve balled them into fists.
You press your knuckles flat against his abdomen, trying pushing him away. But the second your skin meets his, your hands flutter open, roaming his body as you instantly melt into his kiss. It’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous. It’s like you hadn’t just been on a rampage telling him what a big ass he is for how he treated you.
Your hands instinctively try to cup his face but are quickly caught by his, pinning them above your head.
Sukuna pulls away, making you whine at the abrupt separation. Your eyes are drawn to his lips like a moth to a flame. They look shiny from the kiss, and you try to lean forward but he’s got you nailed to the wall.
“Are you being serious right now?” You utter, putting a dirty smirk on his face. “Let me go!” You try to wriggle free off his hold. “Need to wipe that fucking smile off your face.”
Sukuna scoffs. He uses one hand to hold both of yours in place while he cups your chin, thumb glossing over your lower lip.
He takes a deep breath, smug dropping as he scans your face. “I’ve missed you.”
Those words hit the final nail in your coffin. At this point, you know there’s no turning back.
Before you get to answer back, he turns you around, cheek and chest flat up against the wall, entwining his fingers as he presses both your hands on either side of you.
Sukuna grunts, burying his face into your hair as he grinds his erection on your ass.
“Gonna make you forget all about him.”
“Actually, we’re not—” Sukuna doesn’t let you finish, capturing your lips once more.
He lifts your shirt above your tits, smiling in the kiss upon finding you bare underneath. Then he works your pants, pulling them down to your knees, locking your movements.
You hear him shuffling on his knees. You try to turn around but he stops you dead in your tracks. “Keep those fucking hands on the wall.”
Sukuna spreads your ass cheeks open before letting out a hot huff on your pussy. He draws a stripe on your slippery slit, and a moan escapes from your lips.
A soft, wet muscle flicks wonders on your clit, a sensation you’ve missed over the course of a year. You try your hardest not to break but he’s got you so weak in the knees with how good he licks your pussy.
“Sh-it!” You whine. Sukuna sucks your clit and buries his nose in your entrance, making you hold onto the wall for dear life.
A thumb enters your pussy, curling and hooking inside you as his tongue fiddles with your sensitive bud, and at this point you’re a crying mess. He pumps your pussy with two digits as his tongue flicks your clit so fast, you start shaking in your high, doing your best not to fall over.
“Fffuck, Sukuna!”
“God, I’ve missed that sound.”
You catch your breath. The familiar sound of his belt shuffling plays in the background. His pants drop to the floor and you feel his cock spring on your ass.
His wet tip leaves a trace of slick on your ass. His knuckles run up and down your ass as he pumps his cock behind you.
“Oh!” You flinch, mouth forming an ‘o’ and Sukuna chuckles, catching you off guard when he gathers slick from your pussy to lube his cock.
Head ducked, you press your forehead on the wall in your anticipation, feeling your hot breath fan your face as it hits the wall. You’d forgotten how big he is — jaw dropping when just the head of his cock stretches your pussy wide open.
“Sukuna, please— fuck!” Right on cue, his cock slides into you with ease, making you mewl like a kitty.
“Missed your tight pussy, babe.” Sukuna groans as he bottoms out, hand cupping and kneading your tit while he peppers kisses on your shoulder. “Fuck, babe, I’ve missed you.”
“S’kuna~” You tilt your head back and rest on his shoulder, humming his name in a tune that just scratches the itch in his heart and on his cock. “F-fuck me!”
He picks up the pace, practically ramming your body into the wall. His cock feels so good, stretching you out in ways no one’s ever been able to since you broke up. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this — Sukuna whispering the nastiest nothings in your ear, mouth always preoccupied with yours, your tits, your skin, every part of you, fucking you like it’s always the first time.
“Say my name, babe. Fuck! I’ve missed you so fucking bad.” A hand finds your clit and rubs hard and fast and sloppy circles till you’re creaming on his cock.
“Sukuna! Don’t stop— ffuuck!” Your heart beats out of your chest as he fucks your high. Tears prickle your eyes and you’re reminded of a familiar euphoria — one you’d so painfully missed all year long without his company.
You feel a mix of pain and pleasure when teeth sink into your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, grabbing hold of his locks when he fucks you so deep his balls start to stick to your pussy. He releases a low grunt, shoving his cock into you a couple pumps more till he starts to fill your insides.
When his cock slides out of you, and his cum begins to drip from your pussy down to your legs, the realization hits the both of you of whatever the fuck just happened.
“I—” Sukuna breaks the silence, “I want you back. Please? Come back to me.”
You turn around seeing his pleading eyes. You weren’t even sure that was ever possible.
Sukuna waits for an answer, but you kiss him instead of giving him one.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” You wrap your arms around his waist, his softening cock pressing against you.
He lets out a low chuckle, corners of his lips upturned as he pulls you closer to him.
“Also, he and I
 we’ve broken up months ago.”
The look on his face is priceless. He definitely feels cheated but that slowly turns into relief.
“You idiot. You could’ve told me that sooner.”
“Sorry.”
“Do me a favor,” he mutters. “Wear that shirt for me, please?”
In hindsight, it was a good idea to do this after all. You’ve got your stuff back, and your boyfriend. Plus it’s back to fucking like bunnies for an entire week straight.
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pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♄
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softshuji · 1 month ago
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𝟐𝟐:𝟓𝟎𝐏𝐌 - 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔
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Title: Say Yes
Summary: The first time Rindou asks you on a date, you reject him, thinking he's going to break your heart. Lucky for you, he's willing to prove why you should say yes to him.
cw: fem!reader, some mentions of insecurities, Rin calls you princess, Ran makes an appearance. But that's it! Reblogs appreciated!
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You think it’s a joke the first time Haitani Rindou asks you on a date. He’s a Haitani after all, and you’re under no illusions about what that means for you and all the ways he could hurt you if you let him. Creative ways, that you’re convinced you could never recover from in the near future, the pieces of yourself you would spend years putting back together.
So you don’t. You walk away, reject him politely with a smile and an incline of your head, and you can almost imagine that he has a girl lined up the next day to ask as a quick replacement of you because He’s a Haitani after all, and he has a reputation that means more than either of your hurt feelings.
Rindou pretends he isn’t crestfallen, the drop of his small and placid smile that does little to hide the avid redness of his cheeks is all too apparent when you purse your lips. His eyebrows shoot up and he coughs, or rather pretends to, into his hand and steps back, the heat on his neck crawling along the slope of his back.
‘You’re
.. You’re saying no?’ He asks, as if he doesn’t quite get it, because he hasn’t prepared for this eventuality, for going home to Ran to break the news, as if he’s a schoolboy with a crush, dragging his feet with dejection.
‘I am, I’m sorry Rin.’ A shake of your head, a feeling of deep nausea and a regret that holds the weight of years of friendship, now potentially wasted. 
‘Oh.’ He kicks at the gravel, the blue silk of his hair falling in waves over the smooth arc of his forehead, and you resist the urge at a time like this, to sweep it back. ‘Can I ask why?’
No, you want to say, the word caught on the wind whipping through your hair. It’ll only make it harder. Harder to look forward, harder to resist, harder to keep at your word. 
‘You’re Rindou Haitani.’ As if it’s an explanation in itself, as if it assuages the guilt and the longing and gets the point across, that he could never not hurt you in any way you could recover from. ‘I don’t think you’d be happy with me.’
You think it’s easier to lie, to pretend that the burden that comes from knowing you is too much for any one person to bear, especially when that person is your best friend, instead of the fact that the uncertainty of his life is too much for you in turn. That there could be a day far or perhaps not so far, into the future where the uncertainty becomes the certainty of his death, where he does not come back at all.
‘You don’t know that,’ he says, fierce determination blazing in his eyes, the slight tremor of his voice. He thinks he could be happy with you, or content at the very least. Maybe you could watch as he climbed to the top with Ran, the Doll at his side, his partner in all things. He’s convinced he has it all planned out perfectly, the house, the marriage, the kids you’ll have, even what colour you’ll paint the walls, because despite himself, Haitani Rindou is meticulous in all things concerning you.
You tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile playing on your lips that you hope hides how much it pains you to break him like this, to break yourself along with him, cracks in the eggshell of your friendship you hope can be repaired in time. ‘I do Rin. You’re a Haitani, you’re used to the life.’
He knows it’s an explanation and he doesn’t begrudge you for it, for the way you step back and keep your distance, your bottom lip pulled back as you bite it nervously, a hand playing with the ends of your hair as he knows you’re prone to doing. He wants to be angry, wants to rage at you, throw all the excuses he thinks will suffice for coming to terms with the rejection, vitriol and jealousy and bitterness all curling together on his tongue. He swallows, the bump of his smooth throat sliding under the blue scarf that kisses at the dip of his chin and pushes it down. Down. Down. Tucks it safely in the pit of his stomach where it can ruminate till he’s let off the steam that prickling at the skin on his neck.
‘I see.’ He pulls back the flowers, scrunching the plastic wrapping in his white knuckles behind his back, the burn of shame and regret licking at his cheeks, hot enough to instantly melt the snow that sits on the cut of his cheekbones. ‘Can we still be friends?’ 
It aches somewhere, when you swallow against the tide of anxiety in your chest, a vice that clamps down on your tongue, hot and heavy and weighted with longing. You wonder how easy it would be to let yourself be swept away by him, the beautiful fullness of his laugh, the smile that’s reserved for you, quick and easy and big, all engulfing even, to let yourself run along with him as he climbed to the top, hand in unlovable hand.
You soften, reach for him with one gloved hand, finding his fiddling with a button on his coat and brush your  thumb across his knuckles, swinging it this way and that, like you have not broken his heart, like you are nothing more than a single passing memory. ‘Of course we can. We’re best friends Rin, nothing will ever change that. If you still want me that is.’
‘I do.’ 
‘Even now?’ 
He takes your hand, as if it’s a response and knowing that despite it all, his big words, he’ll wallow in self pity, the heat of your rejection biting at his chest, he’ll come to terms with it in his own way. It is all his fault, and the wind that cuts across his cold lips seems to chant with shame at him for it, for the fickleness of his feelings, for straying far from what he knows.
But it happens. You swing back into life and the easiness of your friendship that has always permeated the comfort between you remains, albeit hardened now, by what Rindou thinks are his one-sided feelings. He remains as steadfast in his efforts as usual, propelled more so now by the fact that he feels he must win you over, to make up for the duplicity of his feelings.
You think it’s cute that he is less than subtle with his affections now that they are out in the open. The chocolates that sit at the table when you return home, a bar of chocolate orange, a note on a yellow post-it, a heart and a terribly drawn sun that tells you enough, the trinkets and gifts that are somehow discreetly placed around your apartment, necklaces here and there, earrings, new books you hadn’t spoken about to anyone that wasn’t him and it burns you with self-loathing that despite yourself, you cannot let him go without peeling yourself open at the same time.
The regret is acid pooling in your stomach.
The same regret and shame that tickles your throat when you reach for the phone at night, and your thumb finds his name with a moon and a heart, the grainy picture of him sleeping with his mouth parted, blond silken hair clinging to his forehead, to his shirt. He rolls over in bed, hears the first sniffle, cut through by a crack in the signal, and bounds from the door, keys in one hand, his jacket only half-slung, whipping in the wind as he races to your apartment.
'Princess?’ It’s uncertain, halted, hesitant even, as he slides open the bathroom door, the ends of his hair wet with rain, glasses foggy and hands clammy with the chill of the wind. 
‘Rin?’ You look up, eyes red-rimmed, the wad of wet tissue in your hands falling apart.
And Rindou knows, of course he does, what your kind of bravery looks like. You've been sitting on the floor crying, the tears fast and free flowing and salty on your cracked cheeks and he doesn't judge, he knows this is you being brave, he knows he has no right to judge what your kind of brave looks like, the way in which you piece yourself back together.
So he holds you, one hand on the small of your back, the other tucking the hair behind your ear as you hiccup and the drool slips from your dry lips. He holds you, and holds you and holds you and rocks you with his eyes fluttering shut, and perhaps your hair will get caught on the thin screws of his glasses, but you don't care right now. All that matters is that he makes you feel less pathetic, less like you're falling apart on the cold bathroom tiles of your shabby house.
‘It’s okay,’ he says and you almost believe it, almost believe he can put you back together with his lithe skilled fingers, trace the cuts along your heart with tenderness and paint them gold again. 
You love that he waits it out, waits for it to pass, the cloudy storm that ends with you on his chest, softly snoring, your tears dried on cheeks that feel taut and tightened with the line of silvery drool slipping between your parted lips, mascara tracks, that have found a home on the soft grey of his shirt. 
‘Let’s get you into bed yeah?’ He whispers to the tiles, to you now slumped against him, the creases of your pajamas pressed into his side and carries you to bed, slipping in beside you, curling your hair around his fingers, your ribs under his hands, heartbeat pulsing against his skin. He hardly blames you for it, the rejection that’s weeks in the past. Part of him almost thanks you, for protecting yourself from him, from all the danger and blood and death that comes with him. Like you said, he is used to the life. 
You love that when you wake, he is that much softer with you, a hand on your back as you pad to the bathroom, to the kitchen, the coffee hot, the croissants and pastries fresh, a wordless kiss to your temple, fresh clothes and towels, the bathroom clean of the wads of tissue that bare witness to your moments. He never mentions it, but kisses you again, just shy of your mouth, the dip of your chin soft under his lips when he sees you off for work again.
‘Be safe okay? For me?’ 
Because he knows you’re capable, knows you’re strong, knows you are his weakness in a way nothing else is, knows that if something happened to you, you’d take a bigger part of him than he could ever take of you. Or so he thinks.
‘I will. You should be safe too.’ 
Because you know he’s capable, know he’s strong, know he is your weakness in a way nothing else is, know that if something happened to him, he’d take a bigger part of you than you could ever take of him. Or so you think.
You love that he comes back, time and time again. After every fight, every argument, every word of vitriol spewed back and forth, hateful words thrown with negligence and jealousy, embittered feelings you know deep down come from love, he comes back to you.
‘Princess?’ He says, and waits on the other side of the door in the rain, the film of his glasses now foggy with condensation, ends of his hair clinging to the exposed goosebumps breaking out on his neck, the grey sweatpants now a darker shade of charcoal from where he has slugged through the storm to get to you, his first priority always.
‘What do you want?’ It comes out harsher than intended, the bite of your still-fresh and ripened anger cutting at your tone. It hurts, it always does when it comes from him, the arguments that are wrapped in love, care, the attention he could give to anyone but chooses to give to you, and the regret that boils in your stomach when you realize that fact.
‘I want us to talk.’ Proactive as ever, because the option to find solace anywhere else, with another girl even, has never occurred to him. Because he loves you, and even if the sentiment isn’t shared, he thinks he can love you enough for the both of you. 
‘I don’t want to talk to you right now.’ But you push open the door, hand him a towel, and touch his cold and pallid cheek, because the promise of seeing him, in all your pain and bitterness, hurts less than not.
‘Not an option,’ he says and holds you, cold lips that brush just shy of the hot pulsing pressure point of your neck, warmed by the constancy of you. He smells of petrol, metal, the cold chill of winter, and against what you assume is your better judgement, you find warmth in the crook of his shoulder, the warm swell of his chest and arms that instinctively come around you, pressing your hips to his.
It would be easy, to give into the thrill for a night, to let yourself forget, reach out to him and grab at the promise, however temporary, for the risk of tasting him in all the ways you’ve imagined you can. You know he tastes of strawberries, tastes of the night and the moon, sweet and dangerous and warm, familiar and mysterious at once. 
You tell yourself, you tell Ran, he is just like this, that Rindou for all his brutality, for all the rough edges sharp enough to cut, for all the barricades smoothed down by time, he is just kind, he is just loving, he is just like that.
‘I thought you’d have known him better than that by now.’ And Ran sighs in that way older siblings do, half exhausted, half fond, and all pride in his Brother. ‘Rin doesn’t do things for anyone else.’ 
It changes at some point. 
Some point when you wake before him, nestled into his side, the warm breath from his parted lips lifting the hair now pressed against the pillow, an eyelash dancing on the perfect curve of his cheek. He looks best like this. Unguarded, the frown that usually graces the slope of his forehead now smooth, the bridge of his nose rubbing at the cotton of your shared pillow, and the soft blue of his hair resting on the sharp line of his jaw. 
You press a tiny kiss to his collarbone, trapping him between your legs, his hands resting on your hips that press flush against his. 
‘Watching people sleep is creepy y’know.’ His voice is rough and broken by the sluggishness of sleep and you can hear the smirk in it, the lazy languid curve of his lips that never fails to make the heat rise to your neck. 
‘You do it all the time.’ A whisper that kisses at his clavicle, eliciting a shiver that rolls along his spine, the perfect bones and muscles flexing under your touch.
‘S’different. You’re pretty.’ 
‘So are you. Really pretty Rin.’
‘Think so?’
‘Don’t fish for compliments with me, that’s shameful.’ You jab lightly at his side, the smile threatening to break out across your lips now peaking through with full force. The sun that cuts across his cheek rests on the swell of his bare shoulder, the black ink that whirls along the flexing tendon of his arm soaking up the light. This is him, your Rindou. Soaking up the light as if it belongs to him, because it does, because everything does, because you would hand him the world if he so much as looked at it.
He laughs, a throaty chuckle that reverberates against your chest, dangerously, achingly close, a flimsy t-shirt away. ‘You’re too smart, my smartest girl.’ And buries his lips against the warm juncture of your collarbones. 
‘And Rin?’ You ignore the way your voice wavers, the way it threatens to pull you back into what you know, the safety of your enclosed familiarity, the trapped bird looking out to freedom.
‘Mhm?’ 
A beat, prolonged, heady and weighted with love, years and memories. ‘I think I’m ready.’ 
‘For?’ 
‘To say yes.’ The pressure aches in your chest, the courage is a vibrating pulse in your blood. This is it, this is the deep breath and the plunge.
It’s strangely exhilarating to let go of it, the build-up of weeks of longing, of clutching onto his stomach as you bury your face against the broad swell of his back, muttering his name in your sleep, his lips only a breath away, a singular moment of decision away.
His eyes snap open, his hands pulling back instinctively from your hips to cup at your jaw, eyes narrowed, glowing with anticipatory longing, dull with the shimmer of sleep.  ‘You mean it? That’s not a joke? If it’s a joke-’
You shake your head adamantly, his palms rough against the curl of your cheek. ‘Not a joke. I’m sorry, my indecision hurt you. I think I was afraid.’ This last part is broken, snapped into a whisper that curls along your tongue.
It had been true, it had always been true. Because he’s Haitani Rindou, and you know he could break you, snap you in half, shred the pieces of you and spit you out, that you would have to trust him not to.
‘No, no Princess, don't ever apologise for that. You really mean this though?’ Damn him for the shake of his voice, for the wobble of it as he closes the distance between you. 
‘I do.’
‘You want this? You want 
me?’ He knows it’s meticulous, extreme, that he must only bridge the gap to find his answer. But he has spent so long, nights reaching through the darkness for your warmth, a hand moving across the cold bed, looking for the space where he thinks you ought to be, to not do it right this time. 
‘Yes.’ 
He deliberates, searches your eyes, for the genuineness he loves in you, for the openness, for the love he has craved and never asked for, for what you have given to someone like him so freely. 
‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, and his thumb brushes against your lips, against the softened pout, the dip in your chin that slices the sunlight in half as it spills over his shoulder.
Your heart smashes against your ribs, knocks the air from you so completely that your pulse rings in your head. You think this is the point you take the leap, jump into the unknown, knowing you’ll be caught either way by him, knowing he will catch you every time you fall. It's conscious, a decision weeks or months in the making, a step off the edge, the wind rushing at you as you fall.
So you do it.
You say yes.
And he kisses you. And kisses you. And kisses you.
a/n happy birthday to the boy himself, sorry this is a little late I did try to be earlier i've been slumped w work and stuff but I wanted to get this one out there. a kiss for the wonderful boy
taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @burnishedcrown @nikokopuffs @mitsuwuyaa @haruwuchiyoo @mochimiyaas @bertholdts--butt @theaonlax @blackfire2013 @wotakuhime @severellamahottub @stargirlstabber @intheafterall
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alltheirdamn · 2 months ago
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Diamond Dolls | Joel x stripper!f!reader
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Chapter I : Diamond Dolls Club
Series Summary: Running from the past led you straight into the arms of club owner, Joel Miller. He’s quiet, respectful, and devastatingly handsome. He’s nothing like any man you’ve come across, and it’s so hard to keep your heart guarded when he’s tearing down the walls. Chapter Summary: After fleeing Miami, you find yourself a spot at Diamond Dolls, and meet Joel Miller. The man who can change everything. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, Joel is in his early 40s reader is in her mid-20s, mentions of alcohol, strip club setting, nudity, sexual tension, mutual pining, eventual smut, explicit language
 more tags will be added as the story goes A/N: Well, a very belated hello to everyone! I've been in the darkest recesses of a writers block, and had to drag myself to the surface to finally finish this one out. It's a slow start, but it's something nonetheless. Anyway, love you all lots and i hope you stick around for this lil story <3 xoxo
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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One week ago
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. You were holed up in the bathroom of a shady hotel, listening to the sound of pleasured moans coming from the bedroom. Your friend, Diana, had been going at it with some stranger for the last half hour, and you were scared. Private parties were typical for the dancers. In fact, Richie loved it. He loved being the type of owner who showcased all his dancers in whatever way he pleased. But you knew something was off when you stepped out of the black Escalade and into the hotel lobby. This type of party differed from the rest; you had this nagging feeling it would all go wrong.
And it did.
**
The sound of heels rattling inside your bag drifted through the empty parking lot as you neared your last resort. Diamond Dolls. Your gas tank—and lack of money—only got you as far as Austin, Texas. It wasn’t an ideal place to end up, but beggars can’t be choosers, so it would have to suffice. 
It was early afternoon, no doubt the slowest time of day since only a handful of cars were parked in the lot aside from yours. With the sun still shining, the neon pink lights of the sign above the door were turned off, but it still looked inviting. Diamond Dolls was already far different than your club back in Miami; it was different in a good way. 
At least, you hoped it was.
Cracking open the front door, you shuffled your bag over your shoulder and took a deep breath. This was your only shot at putting your life back on track, and you prayed you’d be given the chance to set things right. You couldn’t go back to Miami. Not now
not ever. The bridges you burnt could never be rebuilt; running away would only take you so far. 
A few patrons turned their heads your way when the sun streamed through the hazy club, no doubt an annoying reminder that the world still existed outside this tiny place. The entire club was drenched in low neon blacklights, the purple and pink hues painting the shadows in a sultry ambiance. Above you, diamond chandeliers hung from the ceiling, twinkling lights refracting off the gems that clung to the metal branches curving upward. The black leather couches around the stage were shiny and clean, another sign that this club was far better than where you came from. 
High-top tables scattered the open areas in the club's corner, tiny tea lights flickering on their marbled counters. Everything was meticulously detailed, as if whoever owned it had put all their effort into making this space unique and beautiful. 
Across the back was the bar; the counter stretched from end to end with an array of liquors stacked on glass shelves that hung from the wall. Behind the counter was a lone bartender busying himself with cleaning glasses. 
Perfect, you thought. This was your opportunity. 
“Hey,” you cautioned, walking up to the black countertop. “I was wondering if you guys are taking in any new dancers.”
“Can’t say for sure,” the bartender shrugged. 
He had a snug black top stretched across his chest and dirty blonde hair that stuck back along his scalp with too much gel. A few tattoos marked up his forearms, disappearing under the cuffs of his shirt and reappearing along the column of his neck. Instinctively, you knew he was well paid by any female clients who came into the club late at night. A few drinks and maybe a few flirtatious conversations made him a wealthy man by the end of his shifts. 
“Who should I be asking then?” You questioned, tapping your nails along the edge of the counter.
The bartender glared at your nails as they tapped repeatedly on the counter. You retracted your hand with an apologetic look, letting your arm hang heavy at your side. He bristled at your presence, obviously unamused by your friendly antics. Charm wouldn’t work here
noted. 
“Joel’s up in his office. Why don’t y’go bother him.”
“Joel
” You echoed.
“The owner?” He cocked a brow, almost annoyed that you didn’t know who Joel was. 
Obviously, you didn’t fucking know.
“Gotcha,” you nodded. 
The bartender slung the drying rag over his shoulder, retiring the glass he had been cleaning to the other stack of dishes. He pointed down the hall near the stage toward the black-painted door to the right. 
“You’ll find him in there,” he said.
You muttered a quick thank you before walking down the hall and past wandering eyes. Smoothing down your hair, you inhaled sharply before rapping your knuckles against the door. 
“Come in!” A deep voice called out.
You timidly turned the doorknob, peeking your head around the door with a sheepish smile. An older man, probably no more than forty, leaned back in a leather chair. He had on a simple black button-up, the sleeves rolled up his tan arms, exposing the muscles and veins that spidered from his fingers to his biceps. You lifted your eyes to his face, brown scruff covering his jaw, small patches of gray threading through the wiry hair. His plush lips curved into a slight grin, his bottom one plush and pouty—a very dangerous thing to see when you realized he could potentially be your new boss.
“How can I help you?” He asked, clearing his throat.
Your eyes shot up to his, immediately pulled under the dark brown waves that swam through his irises. You expected the club owner to be less appealing, maybe even a bit sleazy, given your track record of who you’ve met in the business. You didn’t expect him to be this attractive. 
You stepped over the threshold, unsure if you should shut the door behind you. You didn’t know Joel, nor could you trust him to be different from the other men you had encountered over the years. Despite your weariness, he motioned for you to shut the door and extended a hand toward the chair in front of his desk.
“I was, um, wondering if you were taking any new dancers?” 
You didn’t mean to word it like a question, but your uncertainty got the best of you. 
“Might be. Y’from here?” Joel asked, his southern drawl thick with each syllable. 
You slid down into the chair, letting your bag drop to the ground by your feet. Joel tracked your movements, watching you squirm under his heavy stare while he waited for your response. 
“Miami, actually. Just drove in this morning.”
“What brings ya’ to the Lone Star State?” He asked, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth. 
“Family,” you lied a little too quickly. 
Everything about being a dancer was a lie, and you weren’t about to change your ways for some owner you didn’t know. Joel stretched his arms over his head, his biceps flexing as he interlocked his fingers behind his neck. It should be a crime for someone to be this handsome; clearly, he knew what you were thinking because his lips twitched with an amused grin.
“Y’got experience in a club?”
“Yep,” you nodded. “Worked at my last one for three years.”
Joel’s eyes raked over you, lingering on your glossy lips and finally trailing back up to your eyes. Your skin flushed under his stare, your ears burning the longer he drank you in with slow, deliberate passes over your body as you crossed and uncrossed your legs behind the shield of his wooden desk. 
“I’m assuming you’ll want to see me dance,” you said, filling the dead air between you.
“Not necessary.”
You stared at your hands in your lap, crestfallen. This had been your last resort, and you were down on your luck now. You barely had a hundred dollars in cash left in your wallet, and you told yourself it was for emergencies only. You weren’t even sure it was enough to cover more than a night's stay in a motel somewhere in town. There wasn’t anyone you could call. There was nowhere else to go. 
A soft creak of his chair stirred you from your swirling thoughts, and you looked up to see Joel bracing his elbows on the desk. He was so much closer now, his age materializing into something softer as he studied you. Worry lines creased his forehead, smoothing out around his temples where his brown hair curled behind his ears. Even if this meeting was all for nothing, at least you got to enjoy a small glimmer of hope dressed as a beautiful Southern gentleman. You reached for your bag, ready to beeline it out the door and back to your car before you could make any more of a fool of yourself. 
“I don’t need an audition, sweetheart,” he said softly. 
You blinked up at him, both confused and hurt. He didn’t need to kick you while you were already down; he made it very clear you weren’t getting a spot in the club. You lifted your bag into your lap, shoving the chair back hard enough to make the legs scrape against the floor. 
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet me. Have a good day.”
The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, and they didn’t sound much better either, but you didn’t care. There was nothing for you here, and you needed to search for a place to stay before the day slipped away. Clinging to whatever dignity—and hope—you had left, you turned for the door without another glance over your shoulder. 
“Wait.”
Joel’s voice radiated through the room as your hand hovered over the door handle. You half-considered dismissing him and continuing with your hopeless day, but a nagging voice inside your head told you to stay. Steeling your emotions, you turned to him with your arms folded over your chest. 
“Come back at nine. You’ll be on stage tonight,” he offered, rising from his seat.
“What?” You balked. “You just told me you didn’t want to see me audition.”
Joel shoved his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants, his shoulders lifting slightly with a shrug. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and shove you out the door. But there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone nor a look of deception in his soft eyes. 
“I never ask my girls to audition,” he explained. 
“Why? What if I’m bullshitting you?”
“I’ll find out if you are, but I got a feelin’ you won’t let me down.”
“Okay,” you nodded. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”
Joel dipped his head toward you, his lips curving at the corners under his thick mustache. You were in deep shit, knowing you’d get to see that warm smile every day. With nothing left to say, you muttered another thank you and opened the door, disappearing into the hallway before he could retract his offer. 
An upbeat tempo thrummed through the air as you passed by the stage, and you took a quick peek at the girl spinning on the pole, her blonde hair falling in a cascade of curls down her bare spine. The handful of patrons you had spotted coming into the club were now crowded around the stage, enthralled in her body as she moved to the rhythm of the music. Crisp dollar bills scattered the glass stage, falling at her feet as she lowered herself onto her knees. Your steps faltered as her eyes connected with yours, a friendly smile ghosting over her face before she returned to her routine. Digging through your bag, you reached for your wallet and dished out a couple of bills to toss onto the stage. It wasn’t much, and you knew better than to lessen your savings, but it was enough to show your respect for her hustle. She understood this life as much as you did. 
**
You spent the better part of the afternoon driving around the city, familiarizing yourself with the sidestreets and small shops you would come to frequent. There hadn’t been much luck finding a place to stay for the night, but you hoped you’d have enough money after your shift to afford a room, at least for the weekend. You were more than ready to sleep anywhere that wasn’t your car and even more ready to have cash in your pockets again. 
Anxious to start your first shift, you circled back to the club much earlier than Joel had asked. The sun was barely kissing the horizon as you put your car in park, the neon lights above the building flickering to life as the night swallowed the sky. You were two hours too early, but you didn’t want to wait any longer. You wanted to be on the stage now. 
Searching through the bags of your belongings stuffed in the trunk of your car, you found your pile of club outfits and began piecing together different options to wear for the evenings. You laid out a matching pink lingerie set, the bra entirely rhinestoned in refractive colored jewels. It had done numbers on stage, a perfect outfit for making first impressions. You scoured for one more set—a just-in-case outfit—and found a thin, black lace teddy at the bottom of the pile. You could pair it with your taller heels and use it as your outfit for your second dance on stage. If you got that far. Everything else looked unappealing, but you’d have time and money to shop during the weekend for new clothes. New everything, if you were being honest. You were starting from the ground up in Austin. 
As you tucked your clothes in your bag, you heard the sound of car keys jingling behind you. It was instinct to tense up at any noise in a parking lot, and your defenses were always up to foreign noises. Spinning quickly toward the sound, you came face to face with the same blonde you had seen on stage earlier in the day.
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!” She apologized.
“No, it’s okay,” you assured her, releasing a shaky breath.
She was wearing an oversized shirt and gym shorts, her feet stuffed in a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. With her hair pinned up and most of her makeup wiped off, you knew her shift was over.
“You must be the new girl Joel told us about. I’m Monica.”
She extended a hand toward you, and you quickly introduced yourself.
“Sorry, I probably look like a mess. I just got in today.”
Monica looked over your shoulder into the trunk of your car, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the mess. Everything left of your life was stuffed into only a few bags; it was embarrassing, to say the least. 
“Do you have family in town you’re staying with?” She asked.
“I do,” you lied. “I just haven’t had time to stop by yet and drop my things off.”
Monica looked between you and your car, skepticism crossing over her features. Dancers were great at lying but even better at discovering one. She saw through you in less than a minute.
“Let me give you my number,” she offered, pulling her phone from her purse. “When you’re done for the night, just call me. I’ve got an extra room you can crash in for a couple of nights if you need it.” 
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. That’s, um, that’s way too kind of you,” you stammered.
She bristled at your words, shoving her phone in your hands to exchange numbers. You typed with shaking hands, the numbers mixing up as you deleted and retyped repeatedly. Handing the phone back to her, you waited for a text to ping through the air, and it did. 
You made your first friend in the new town and only hoped things wouldn’t end like they did in Miami.
“There’s plenty of girls still here for the night,” she started. “They’ll set you up in the dressing room and make sure you’re taken care of tonight. If anyone gives you hell, just tell them Monica’s looking out for you, and I’ll set them straight.”
You laughed softly at her gentle threat. You weren’t expecting such hospitality so quickly, but it was refreshing to know someone cared about you. After a few more minutes of casual conversation, she parted ways for the evening, and you were left standing in front of the neon lights beckoning you inside.
Showtime. 
The crowd inside the club had doubled since you had left earlier in the afternoon; the couches and bar tops were littered with groups of men and women all drinking high-priced drinks and shadowed in plumes of smoke. Three bartenders worked behind the counter, their routine flowing together as they worked in tandem, taking orders and making drinks. 
As you walked down the hallway by the stage, you noticed Joel’s door shut to the club. It confused you since the club was ramping up for the night; owners were usually out mingling with customers and dancers. You considered knocking on the door and thanking him again, but the thought passed just as quickly as it came, and you found your way to the dressing room. 
The room's bright lights were stark in contrast to the rest of the club, and you had to squint your eyes to adjust to the sudden change. Only two girls occupied the room, working on their hair in front of the vanity. The second you entered their eyesight, they turned with wide grins.
“You’re the new girl!” One squealed, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders as she ran up to you.
She quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, her heavy vanilla perfume floating around her body and onto yours. 
“I’m Heather,” she said, pulling away. “And that’s Carolina.”
She gestured back to the other brunette, who gave you a shy wave. She was shorter than Heather, her hair cut into a sharp bob and streaked with caramel highlights. You waved back, introducing yourself to them both. Heather bounced back to the vanity, moving her array of makeup to the side to make room for your things.
“There are open lockers to the side over there, so feel free to stash away anything you need,” she explained. “If you need a curling iron or hairspray, you can always grab mine. And Carolina has extra body glitter, too, but I’m guessing you have your own.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some in my bag, but thank you. You guys are really sweet.”
You sat next to Carolina, dumping your makeup bag on the counter. Carolina worked at fixing her black nipple pasties, both of them on display under her sheer red bra. Her curves filled out her mini-skirt, the red material matching both her bra and Pleaser heels. She was fiery; you liked that.
“Joel said you’re from Miami,” Heather started. “This has got to be way less exciting than your old club, huh?”
You tensed up at her question, deciding on what to divulge. Heather and Carolina were sweet, but they were still strangers, and after last week
your guard was higher than ever. Pulling out your foundation and eyeshadow, you quickly started your makeup routine, dodging any invasive questions they tried to ask.
“How long have you both been working here?” You asked, flipping the focus onto them.
Heather fluffed her hair in the mirror, adjusting her purple halter top over her breasts before turning back to you.
“I’ve been here since Joel opened the club, so almost five years,” she stated.
“And I’ve been here for a little over a year,” Carolina said beside you.
“How is Joel?” You asked. “As an owner.”
Heather and Carolina let out a little giggle, clearly something private between them that went unsaid in response to your question.
“We like to say he’s like a recluse,” Carolina explained. “He hardly ever comes around during business hours. He just stays quiet and tucked away in his office. We pay him house fees at the end of our shift, and he leaves us alone.”
That piqued your interest. How could a club owner be so hands-off? Or maybe this was normal, and everything you had experienced in Miami was incredibly unprofessional. It was unprofessional, but you only assumed parts of it were like having your boss pimp you and other girls out for drugs and money. 
“Isn’t that weird, though? I mean, most club owners don’t do that. They’re usually—.”
“Creepy and a bit unsettling?” Heather offered.
You nodded slowly, focusing on yourself in the mirror as you lined your lips with a pink lip liner. 
“Joel isn’t like that, I promise you. He’s probably the most respectful man I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t even think he’s seen our tits,” Carolina giggled. “I can’t even tell you the last time I saw him outside his office during a shift.”
You shuffled off the vanity chair, returning to your bag to pull out your first outfit. As you peeled your shirt off, you mused over their casual information on Joel. You couldn’t make sense of it; how was Joel real? He must be too good to be true. He had to be.
“But how does he know what’s going on around here?” You pressed.
“His brother, Tommy, comes around, checks in on us, and reports to Joel if there’s anything worth knowing,” Heather shrugged.
“That’s it?”
“Yep!” Both of them said in unison.
Carolina strolled to one of the lockers behind you, retrieving a red garter from her back to tie around her ankle. You eyed her as she tightened the straps of her heels and adjusted her bra one last time. As she flounced to the door, she looked over her shoulder and gave you a slight wink.
“You’ll be just fine here, doll. I promise.”
The moment your heels clicked against the glass floor of the stage, everything in your mind turned off. You gave the DJ— Bradley, call me Brad, doll— your music of choice before stepping onto the stage: a slow, sensual track that made the crowd turn their heads in curiosity. Until then, Heather and Carolina had taken turns onstage doing routines to high-tempo songs, keeping the crowd engaged and rowdy. But that wasn’t your forte. 
You started things slowly, wrapping your hand around the pole and teasing the crowd with meticulous movements of your body that swayed to the beat of the music. Your fingers teased the outline of your breasts, cupping them seductively as you made eye contact with a few men sitting near the edge of the stage. Their undivided attention on your body was exhilarating; the promise of money dropping at your feet was enough to keep you going. Hooking your leg around the pool, you pulled yourself up, spinning in gentle turns as you flowed with the music. Everything you did was unrushed, and you took your time commanding the stage. 
Eventually, the tips started piling up on the stage. More clients drew closer, their eyes hungry and watchful. You slid onto your knees, crawling toward a younger man who hovered by the side of the stage, his button-up shirt disheveled and wrinkled—no doubt from a private dance he paid for only an hour ago. You graced him with an inviting smile, swaying your ass back and forth behind you. 
“Hi, beautiful,” he crooned, his voice barely audible above the thrum of the music. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” you replied. 
You knew how to bait them and make them chase after you. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, like the world was a blur around you, and all that existed was just the stage, the money, and your ability to make men crumble at your feet. Dragging yourself onto your knees, you coasted a hand down your abdomen, grinning as he tracked your fingers as they dipped over your navel. The money roll in his hand caught your attention, but you refrained from staring too long. Eye contact was crucial—if you kept him reeled in, the money would come to you. 
“Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked, breathless.
“More than you know.”
He curled a finger, beckoning you closer. You didn’t like when clients reached for you, but you saw the crisp fifty-dollar bill hiding in his palm. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer to the edge of the stage, letting his fingers work at the waistband of your thong. He didn’t prod or explore; his touch was respectful and gentle. Blowing him a kiss, you tucked the money under the thin fabric before returning to the center of the stage to finish your set. 
The music drifted to an end, the applause from the crowd around the stage rippling above the sound as the DJ returned to his playlist of choice. You gathered the tips off the stage floor, stuffing them into your moneybag as you left your set. 
For some strange reason, you were disappointed to see Joel’s office door shut off to the club despite Heather and Carolina’s words. You understood he didn’t come out during business hours, but part of you wished he had watched your first routine. Wasn’t he curious? And why did you care to have him watch you perform? It wasn’t like you were trying to impress him
Okay, maybe you were
 
Passing the DJ booth, Brad gave you a proud smile and a small congratulations. You hurried back into the dressing room, frantic to change into your next outfit. Heather lounged along the benches in front of the locker, her nails tapping against her phone screen as she typed furiously.
“Ugh!” She exhaled. “Men suck.”
You giggled as you plopped beside her, enjoying the simple camaraderie of being in another sisterhood with other dancers. You missed your girls in Miami, but that wouldn’t stop you from making new friends. And from what you’d already experienced in your short few hours at Diamond Dolls, these girls were genuine and caring. 
“Who’s the guy?” You asked.
“His name is Michael. We’ve been seeing each other on and off the past year, and he’s just
 I don’t know. I feel like I give all my time and energy and get nothing in return. You know what I mean?”
“I do.”
You knew it too well. You had never been lucky in relationships; they were messy, and it was hard to come across a man who truly understood your field of work. Some of them loved the idea of having someone overly sexualized and, in their words, slutty. They considered every stripper to be the stereotypical version of a woman, all glitz and glam and naked on display. You were more than that, but none stuck around long enough to find out. 
“Can I give you some advice?” You offered.
Heather stopped her typing, giving you her full attention. 
“Men don’t deserve shit. If he’s not going to give his time and dedication to you, then he doesn’t deserve an ounce of your respect. You’re worth more than that. You deserve someone who will treat you like a queen.”
“Those types of men don’t exist,” she laughed. “They’re all sleazy and just want their dick wet.”
“I don’t know. I think there could be some good ones out there.”
Unwanted images of Joel flashed through your mind. There was no way you actually were thinking of him in this setting. You knew nothing about him or the type of man he was, so you couldn’t let your mind wander to the thought of him as a love interest, nor did you want that. He was a stranger and your boss.
“Well, if you find one, send him my way.”
“Absolutely,” you smiled.
As you both sat in comfortable silence, you worked at sorting through your wad of cash from your set. Smoothing out the bills and organizing them, you counted out over two hundred dollars. Not the best for your first routine in the club, but it was more than you had walked in with. And it was enough to hopefully find a place to stay over the weekend. However, Monica’s offer still remained in the back of your head. 
It was well past three AM when you decided to call it quits for the night. After two more sets on stage, you collected another four hundred dollars, leaving you satisfied for your first shift. Clients were generous, and the atmosphere inside the club was intoxicating. You wanted more, but you wouldn’t be greedy. Not yet, at least. 
After peeling off your clothes and replacing them with the sweats you had walked in with, you said your goodbyes to the girls and made your way to Joel’s office. A flight of butterflies swarmed in your stomach as your hand wavered over the door. Why did he make you so nervous? You were never nervous around men; you were usually quite the opposite. But Joel
You couldn’t get a read on him. You didn’t know what to expect, which made it so much worse.
“Hi,” you said quietly, softly cracking the door open.
You peered into the office, spotting Joel hunched over the desk, rifling through some papers. He glanced up quickly, his eyes shifting back down to the papers
Then, immediately right back up to you. You didn’t miss how his gaze drifted down your body, the hunger flickering to life behind his irises. You were in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but you might as well have been naked with the way he undressed you with his heavy stare. 
Your name fell softly from his lips, his mouth curving up in that same grin you melted over earlier.
“Heard you were the star of the show tonight,” he smiled.
“I don’t know about that,” you laughed.
Sliding into the office, you shut the door behind you, leaving only a few feet of space between you and Joel’s large frame. Somehow, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his gravity pulling you forward.
“No need to be modest, sweetheart. Everyone was talkin’ ‘bout you out there.”
“How do you know that? The girls told me you stay in here all night.”
Joel leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He wore that snug black button-up, and the soft material still deliciously clung to his muscles. His biceps flexed under the shirt, and you trained your eyes on him to keep the temptation of looking at bay. 
“Don’t worry, I hear everythin’ inside this club. Got eyes and ears everywhere.”
“How’d you get into the business?”
“That’s a story for another time, sweetheart. It’s late, and I’m sure y’wanna get home,” he chuckled. 
A mystery. That's what Joel was: an absolute mystery. You couldn’t dig under his walls, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let him dig under yours. If he kept his life close to his chest, then you’d do the same. 
“What’s your price for house fees?” You asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Flat rate of twenty dollars. You can tip out the bartenders and Brad if y’want, but I pay them well enough that y’don’t have to worry ‘bout it.”
“Twenty?” You gaped. 
His brows furrowed together, trying to understand your shock. You pulled a twenty from your money bag and walked toward his desk to slide it to him. 
“They charge you less in Miami?” He questioned, reluctant to take the money.
“No, it’s not that. They charged a lot more
Like over a hundred some nights.” 
It was Joel’s turn to stare at you dumbfounded; his lips parted in confusion. Wasn’t it normal for house fees to be that high? Or had you been lied to all these years? 
“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” 
“I swear I’m not. That’s what the club owner charged us down there.”
Joel ran a hand down his face, his eyes squeezing shut. You swayed awkwardly, your fingers digging into the material of your money bag. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to cuss at you like that. Just surprised me, that’s all.”
“It’s okay,” you replied quietly. 
“M’gonna take real good care of you here, ‘kay?”
His words shouldn’t have affected you, but heat crawled up your neck as you tossed his words over inside your head. Once again, Joel was proving to be far different than what you were used to back in Miami, but you wouldn’t let yourself overthink it.
“Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t gotta thank me none, sweetheart. Y’get home safe. I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”
You cringed at the statement, another reminder of the web of lies you were already weaving. You’d tell him the truth eventually, or maybe not at all. You wouldn’t jeopardize your chance at a new life here.
Joel’s eyes did one final pass over your body, and your anxiety nearly drove you right into the door when you turned to leave. He needed to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t need any more fuel to the fire burning inside your stomach. 
**
You spent far too long hovering your finger over Monica’s contact information, debating whether or not to take up her offer of a place to stay. You had enough money for a hotel room, but the idea of saving it and tucking it away sounded more appealing. You didn’t know Monica— or any of these girls— but her willingness to help you earlier proved how loyal these dancers were to one another. 
Dialing her number, you tapped your fingers against your steering wheel, watching through your dirty windshield as patrons filed out for the night. You wondered which of these cars belonged to Joel and promptly stopped yourself from wondering about anything else. Why was every thought beginning and ending with him? 
“Hello?” 
“Hi, uh
 Monica?” You reintroduced yourself, stumbling over your words like it was your first time speaking.
“Look who made it out alive in her first shift!” She said cheerily. “I’ll shoot you my address, and you can drive over. I’ve already got the guest bedroom set up for you.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude on you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly! You’re not intruding at all, honey. I’ve got the house to myself this weekend and could use the company.”
“I really appreciate it, Monica. Thank you.”
The city was nothing like Miami at night; the streets were empty, and the air was silent and calm. You kept the volume low on the radio as you drove to Monica’s house, enjoying the sound of the breeze as it drifted through the crack in your window. You focused on learning the street names as you passed every intersection, replacing the thoughts of Joel’s warm smile with things that would prove to be more important to you. But the memory of his eyes and smile still lurked in your mind, and no matter how many green lights you sped through, you couldn’t escape it. 
Monica’s home was tucked away in a residential neighborhood nearly half an hour outside the city, her tiny home the only one with a porch light still flickering under the dark sky. 
You barely opened your trunk when you heard Monica’s voice trailing down the driveway. 
“Hi!” She squealed. 
You turned to find her bounding down the pavement barefoot, her blonde hair tousled into a high ponytail and her pajamas hugging her curves. Setting your bag on the ground, you emptied your arms to welcome her into a hug, which should have felt awkward given you had hardly known her less than a full day, but with Monica
It felt normal.
“Thank you again,” you exhaled, your body slumping into her tight embrace. 
“Oh, don’t even mention it. My ex has the kids this weekend, so the place is extra lonely.”
“You’ve got kids?” You asked.
It wasn’t an accusatory question; you had danced alongside several women who were single moms supporting their children. Not to mention, Monica looked way too young to have kids, let alone more than one.
“I’ve got two,” she explained with a tired smile. “Twins, actually. Jackson and Luke. They just turned three in June.”
You shuffled your overnight bag over your arm while Monica led the way to the front door. The moment she opened the door, you were welcomed into a very lived-in home. Kid's toys littered the ground, while mismatched socks and shoes lay around in other spots. You smiled to yourself, seeing such a cozy place; you missed being in a home. Living in shady apartments and hotels left you bitter and yearning for somewhere to call home. 
“Sorry it’s such a mess,” she laughed absentmindedly. “The boys tend to destroy any clean area in the house.”
“You don’t have to apologize at all. I love it.”
She glanced back at you, quirking an eyebrow at your statement. It was true; you did love it. And you loved being welcomed into a home without feeling like a total burden. Monica gave you a small tour of the house before guiding you down the hall to the guest room. It was set up with a queen-sized bed and a small vanity in the corner—perfect for a night or two to get you back on your feet. 
Once settled in, you returned to the living room, where Monica was lying on the couch. 
“Thank you so much again,” you said, collapsing into the cushions.
“Of course, girl. I tend to be the motherly one out of the group, so if you ever need anything, you can always come to me. How was the first night?”
You stretched your legs out along the sectional, burrowing further into the pillows as you let your body unwind. Monica mimicked your movements, curling up under the small blanket draped over her body. 
“I didn’t know what to expect,” you admitted. “Being in a new club is always scary, you know? But everyone has been so welcoming, and the customers are great. And Joel is
” You trailed off, biting your lip.
“Joel is what?” Monica pressed, giggling slightly.
“He’s amazing. I’ve never met a club owner like him. He really cares about all of you girls, and it shows. I’m not used to that.”
“You had it bad out there in Miami, huh?”
You shifted slightly, trying to mask your unease with the question. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Monica; she hadn’t given you a reason yet not to, but the question was too fresh to answer. Glimpses of that night suspended themselves in your head, moments you couldn’t shake and only hoped you’d never have to relive. Everything you saw
 everything you did
 you wanted to forget. 
“Is it alright if we don’t talk about it?” You asked, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap.
“Of course, honey,” Monica said softly. “Whatever happened out there, just know it’s in the past, and you’re okay now. You’re safe here with me. I’ll take care of you, and so will Joel.”
Joel. 
Everything kept circling back to him. He was an enigma dressed in all black with a warm smile and a country twang. You were used to men being nice; they almost always had an ulterior motive for their kindness, but not Joel. His kindness wasn’t self-fulfilling, as far as you knew, and you could see how serious he was about the safety of everyone in the club. Maybe things would turn out differently here; maybe things would be okay. 
The early morning sunlight slowly began to seep through the living room curtains as you and Monica fell into endless conversation. Eventually, she mumbled something about needing a few hours of sleep before needing to run errands, and you took it as your sign to retire to bed. As you settled under the covers, you forced your mind away from the wandering thoughts of Miami. It was easy to forget everything that had transpired in the hotel room when you kept yourself busy, but in the silence, there was nowhere to run from the memories. 
“Alright, which one of you are we fucking first?” One of the guys asked.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his belt, as he asked the question. Your stomach rolled with nausea as the realization hit you; Richie had pimped you out. This wasn’t a party; this was a setup. You swayed in the corner of the room, eyeing the door to figure out how to escape without being snatched up by one of the men. But there were too many of them and just the three of you to try and fend for yourselves. What did it matter, though, when your two closest friends were already drugged out of their minds?
You couldn’t have slept more than one or two hours. The sun was too bright inside the bedroom, and your body was coated in a thin sweat as you jolted from the bed. You were safe. You were in Texas. You were at Monica’s house. You repeated those reminders as you rolled out of bed and entered the guest bathroom. The reflection in the mirror felt like a stranger; your eyes puffy and your face pale. 
“You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself. 
Splashing cold water on your face, you took a few minutes to gather your bearings. The days spent on the road running from Miami were catching up to you, and so was the anxiety that you had kept at bay. 
“Hey!” Monica called from somewhere down the hall.
You braced yourself against the bathroom sink, swallowing the startled gasp that threatened to bubble out of your mouth. 
“I’m headin’ out to the grocery, so if you want me to grab anything for you, just shoot me a text! I left breakfast on the kitchen counter for whenever you’re hungry,” she continued. 
“T–Thank you!” You stuttered. 
Dammit, you were okay. 
You waited until you heard the sound of the front door closing before emerging from the bathroom. In your slim hours of sleep, Monica had cleaned up the house from the night before. Toys were piled in small bins beside the couch, and the miscellaneous clothes and shoes had disappeared, most likely to their respective places in the laundry or kids' bedroom. 
The lingering smell of breakfast led you into the kitchen, where a plate of eggs and bacon sat neatly on the counter. Monica was truly a godsend, and knowing you were in good hands settled some nerves. Settling onto the kitchen barstool, you inhaled the aroma of the plate of food and reached for the fork. Your hand wavered as you spotted a piece of paper tucked under the plate's corner, dainty handwriting scribbling across the note. 
In case you need it, here’s Joel’s number. 
You stared at the series of numbers before you, your throat dry. Joel. The man that was giving you a second chance at this life you had decided to live. Joel. The man with a kind heart and even kinder eyes. Joel. 
The one person who could change everything.
762 notes · View notes
runariya · 3 months ago
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đŸ„žđŸ€«â˜ ïž : JK
He wants something đŸ€« as down payment before he lets u inside safe haven (a place where survivors go to seek refuge)
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(yandere+smut+apocalypse) part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L, yandere-ish? warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, dark creatures, denied prostitution for safety, Jungkook is whipped from the start so that should suffice for yandere, foul language, smut, oral (f. receiving), squirting, JK comes in his pants, fluff, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.239 (upsiiii)
a/n: I couldn't rly make JK more yandere without it feeling a bit too dub-con, so I hope that's alright 💕 also it's heavily inspired by the trilogy '2033' by Dmitri Gluchowski (and to my Russian readers: ĐœĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐČсĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐžŃ‚ таĐș ĐșŃ€ŃƒŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Ń„ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°Ń„ĐžŃŃ… ĐČ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŽŃŃŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒâ˜ș)
‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱‱
You’ve been wandering for what feels like years, though it could be months, or perhaps just weeks; time’s an abstract notion now, in this world broken to pieces and baked under a nuclear sun. 
With each step you take, the weight of exhaustion and your protective suit presses harder against your bones, but you don’t let it stop you. The world may be a dying beast, choking on its own ash and poison, but you still walk through it, a lone ember that refuses to snuff itself out. The remnants of cities whisper ghost stories to you as you pass, their bones twisted metal and crumbling concrete, charred earth for flesh. The wind sometimes hisses through the ruins, carrying tales of survivors—others like you, fighting, scavenging, enduring—and sometimes it’s silent, as if even the air is holding its breath for fear of what’s out there in the deep silence of the aftermath.
The black creatures—those twisted silhouettes of the apocalypse—roam the earth like shadows unbound from their hosts, moving through the poisoned fog with an unnatural grace that chills your very marrow. They are things of nightmares, remnants of the old world, perhaps, mutated beyond recognition by the fallout or born anew from the hatred that festers in the radioactive soil. 
Their eyes, if they have any, are voids, consuming light and hope in equal measure, and their movements are barely perceptible until it’s too late, until they are upon you, whispering your end in a language only the dead would understand. They hunt relentlessly, not for sustenance, not for survival, but as if driven by some primal force deeper than instinct, a desire not just to kill but to erase, to wipe away the last remnants of humanity like dust from the pages of a forgotten book. 
And you—battered, exhausted, teetering on the edge of oblivion—cannot rest, not here, not ever, because even in your sleep they find you, crawling into your dreams with their inky tendrils, reminding you that peace is a luxury no longer afforded to the living outside of shelter.
Your gas mask, an old friend now, covers your face like a second skin at this point, the filters clogged and heavy with days of dust, radiation, and fumes. You’ve noticed the way it pulls in air with more effort now, as if it’s trying to remember how to breathe. 
You check the filter again. It’s nearly gone, the little red marker ticking closer to empty with every breath you take. You’ll have to find something new soon or you’ll suffocate on the very air that should sustain you.
This isn’t the first time you’ve tried to find shelter. In those early days, the optimism hadn’t yet drained from your veins and the desperation to belong somewhere, anywhere, had clouded your better judgment. 
There had been men—those ones with teeth like wolves, eyes like death, always leering, always demanding. You’ve had to pull your knife more than once to remind them that your body isn’t for sale, that safety shouldn’t cost that much. That death, perhaps, is a kinder alternative to what they would have asked of you. 
You can still hear their laughter sometimes, echoing in your skull—mocking, cruel. You had fled from them, from their dark gazes and cruel hands, from the taste of fear that licked at your throat when their eyes lingered too long on your body. Better the damnation from outside than their promises of protection.
But today
 today you find yourself at the mouth of the metro. The entrance yawns wide like a secret, and the shadow of it draws you in, as though it’s reaching out for you. Your steps falter, but only for a moment—just long enough to recognise the hesitation in your chest, the uncertainty gnawing still on your mind. The thought flickers briefly across your consciousness—what if the people down there are like those others? What if all you find is more violence, more degradation, more proof that humanity has shed its last skin and become nothing more than base instincts and brutality?
But the mask is running low, and you can feel that desperation is creeping back into your bones, burrowing deep. You tighten your grip on the strap of your pack, pushing the fear down, burying it beneath a layer of resolve. You’ve come this far; you won’t turn back now.
The entrance is quiet—eerily so, as you push the tall hermetic door open and step inside, closing it quickly after. You glance around, eyes scanning the wreckage for signs of life. There’s nothing at first, just the silent exhalation of wind and the low hum of the distant, underground world. Then, movement.
You hear him before you see him—a soft shuffling of boots against stone, the faint click of a weapon being cocked. You freeze, instinctively tightening your grip on your knife as he steps into view.
Tall. Taller than most of the men you’ve encountered in these forsaken times. Muscles sculpted from necessity, sinew and strength coiled beneath his clothes like a waiting beast. He’s staring at you through the mask, gun raised, the barrel pointing at your chest. For a second, neither of you move. Then his eyes flicker downward, just for a moment, taking you in, assessing, like all the others. You brace yourself for what’s to come.
But it doesn’t come.
“Take it off,” he commands, voice low, barely more than a growl. His weapon doesn’t waver, and his expression is hidden behind a mask, eyes glinting through the cracked visor.
You hesitate. There’s a moment where you think of running, but there’s nowhere to go. There’s only the metro behind him, and the world ahead, both full of uncertainties, both as equally capable of destroying you. You suck in a breath, let it fill your lungs like a final goodbye to the stale air in the mask, and then you reach up to peel it away from your face, your skin sticking to the rubber for a moment before it falls loose.
The air tastes strange on your lips—metallic, sharp, almost alien after all this time behind the mask. You lift your eyes to his, half-expecting some sort of reaction, maybe disgust, maybe lust. But instead
 there’s something different there, something you hadn’t anticipated. His gaze softens, though his grip on the weapon remains steady. He stares at you as though you’re something out of place in this hellscape, something fragile, a curiosity more than a threat. His gun lowers, just slightly, but his eyes don’t leave your face, as he too rids himself of his mask. 
He’s younger than you thought. Ink spills across his skin—tattoos that ripple over his arm, dark lines twisting around muscles. You catch a glimpse of two piercings through his lip when he tilts his head slightly, like he’s trying to figure you out, and then his lips curve, ever so slightly, not quite a smile but not quite hostility either.
“Shelter,” you say, your voice rough, the words like stones scraping against the back of your throat. You cough once, clearing the dust away. “I need shelter.”
He eyes you for a moment longer, his gaze wandering down your frame, but it’s not like before—not like the leering stares of the men who sought to take more than they were willing to give. This is different. There’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at you, as though the mere fact that you’re still standing here, after all this, after the end of the world, is enough to stir absolute disbelief in him.
“Alright,” he says, after a pause that seems to stretch out longer than it should. “We’ll see.”
He gestures with his head, motioning for you to follow him into the metro. You hesitate for only a heartbeat before stepping forward. The air inside is cooler, the shadows deeper in the few flickering candle lights, and for a moment, you think you can almost breathe easier.
“Wait here,” he says, nodding towards a bench half-buried in dust. “There’s a process. Need to fill out a form.”
You blink. A form? The absurdity of it almost makes you laugh—almost. But you’re too tired for laughter, too worn down by the world to even consider the possibility of joy. So, instead, you sit with an exhausted plop. You watch as he disappears for a moment, hear the soft scrape of papers being shuffled, and then he’s back, clipboard in hand, a pencil poised like a weapon in his grip.
He doesn’t sit down. Just stands there, towering over you, his presence impressive but not oppressive. You glance up at him, and there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel exposed—not in a dangerous way, but in a way that makes you feel seen for the first time in a long time. It’s unsettling.
He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the clipboard. “Name?”
You give it to him. He writes it down, slow and thoughtful.
“Age?”
Again, you’re honest, coughing right after. He writes again, his eyes lifting to your face between each question as if checking to see if you’re lying, or maybe just to remind himself that you’re real.
“Where did you come from?”
You answer, though the place you once called home feels distant, like something from a dream you can’t quite remember. His pen scratches the paper, and you almost lose yourself in the sound of it, that soft, repetitive scrape, the only noise in the otherwise still part of the metro.
“Any medical conditions? Injuries?”
You shake your head, your body numb to the aches and pains that have become part of you, the exhaustion that’s settled into your bones as permanent as the sorrow for the destroyed outside world.
He writes.
The questions continue. And all the while, his eyes keep returning to you, scanning your face as if he’s trying to commit every line, every shadow, to memory. You can feel his gaze lingering on your skin, not in a way that makes you want to shrink or hide, but in a way that makes you want to ask why he’s looking at you like that, why his lips keep twitching into something that almost resembles a smile, sometimes a pout. 
After what feels like an eternity, he finishes writing, his pen stilling against the paper. You think he’s done, that maybe this bizarre interaction will end and you’ll be allowed to rest, to sleep, to breathe for just a moment.
But then he clears his throat again. And this time, when he looks at you, there’s something different in his eyes. Something you can’t quite place.
“There’s one more thing,” he says, and the air between you feels too much like outside, chocking and not fit for you. 
You stiffen. You feel that old familiar dread curling up inside your chest again, clawing at your ribs. You’ve been at this stage before, the formality of it, the false promises of security, of kindness. The moment where it all comes crashing down, where the mask slips and you’re left standing there, alone and defenceless against the greed, the hunger that always lurks just beneath the surface of those too desperate to remember what it means to be human.
He sees the shift in you. You know he does. You see it in the way his brow furrows, the way he toys with his lip piercings as though he’s searching for the right words, something to say that won’t make you bolt for the hermetic door. He takes a breath, and for a moment, you think you might run, you think you might grab your mask and take your chances with the toxic air outside because anything—anything—might be better than this.
But then, he speaks.
“I—” His voice falters, and you see the muscles in his throat work as he swallows. His grip on the clipboard tightens, the knuckles going white. “I want to
 I want to eat you out.”
The words hit you like a shockwave. You blink, stunned, and for a moment, you’re not sure you heard him correctly. Did he really just—? 
You stare at him, your mind racing, trying to process the absurdity of it, the strangeness, the unexpectedness.
He’s looking at you now, eyes wide, almost pleading. There’s no threat in his posture, no demand. Just
 want. Raw and unfiltered. Like he’s asking for something he shouldn’t even be allowed to ask, but he can’t help himself. His breath is shallow, and you can see the way his hands tremble slightly, the tension in his body like he’s bracing for you to reject him, to walk away.
And maybe you should. Maybe you should get up, leave this place, leave him behind, leave all of this strangeness and vulnerability and run back into the wasteland where at least the dangers are known, where the air is poison but the intentions are clear. But instead, you sit there, frozen in place, your mind spinning, your heart pounding in your chest as you look at him.
He’s not like the others. That much you know.
He’s so painfully handsome, a rare sight in this broken world, and it’s been so long—too long—since you’ve felt the heat of another body, since before the fallout turned everything to pure survival. 
So, when the chance arises, when you catch the hunger in his dark eyes and feel the thrumming ache in your own bones, you seize it like a lifeline in the endless wasteland. Your fingers tremble as you pull the zip of your protective suit down, the rough fabric parting like a sigh, and you free your legs, peeling it off your lower half. You shift on the bench, boots still clinging to your feet as you raise them to rest beside you, and open yourself to him, your legs spread wide, exposing your cunt like a silent offering, need pulsing through your veins.
Jungkook barely hesitates. The clipboard thrown, clattering to the ground behind him, forgotten, his focus now laser-sharp on the sight before him, his eyes flickering wildly between your face and the growing wetness glistening between your thighs. He steps forward with a pull that feels almost sacred, falling heavily to his knees as if the ground beneath him is the only place he belongs. His warm, calloused hands trace their way up your bare legs, the roughness of his skin sparking something primal under your own.
He leans in close, close enough that you can feel his breath ghosting over your slick skin. He takes a deep breath, inhaling you, and the word falls from his lips like a prayer, “Fuck,” and then he’s there, tongue pressing into you with a hunger that’s suffocating, lapping at your cunt as if he’s desperate to prove himself worthy of it, as if he knows exactly how lucky he is to be granted this wish. 
A moan escapes your throat, unbidden, as his tongue forces its way into the tight heat of your hole, your hand reaching instinctively for his dark hair, fingers threading through the strands as you push your hips into his eager mouth. The sound that rumbles from deep within his chest vibrates against you, a groan of raw pleasure that seems to send waves of newfound pleasure coursing through your body, arousal dripping from you, coating his tongue.
“Taste so good,” he rasps between breaths, his voice rough and broken with want. “Fucking angel sent from heaven.” His gaze flicks upward, catching yours, his eyes wide with disbelief, adoration simmering beneath the surface despite the fact that you’re strangers, despite the fact that the world outside has crumbled to nothing.
You find yourself moving against him, riding the flat of his tongue, his fingers dancing over your clit in a rhythm that feels almost divine. His other hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing into your flesh with a kind of desperation, as though he’s terrified that if he lets go, you’ll disappear, that this will vanish like a dream.
“Yes,” you cry out, breathless and shaking, as he finds the perfect pace, the perfect pressure, his mouth and hands working together with an almost agonising precision. And neither of you can tear your eyes away from the other, locked in this frantic, desperate exchange of need and lust and something deeper you can’t yet name.
He gives you everything—every ounce of affection and euphoria you’ve been deprived of for months—and you can feel it in the way his own body trembles, the way his hips move mindlessly against nothing, rutting into the air as though he’s just as desperate to be filled with pleasure as you are.
“I’m close,” you gasp, your hand tightening in his hair, pulling him harder against you, urging him on, desperate for more, for him to push you over that edge.
And he listens, his tongue working with relentless skill, circling your clit with a pressure so precise it almost drives you mad, and then you feel it—your orgasm tearing through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, shockwaves rippling through your body as you squirt onto his tongue, something you’ve never done before, the surprise of it lost in the haze of pleasure. Jungkook groans beneath you, greedily lapping up everything you give him, cleaning you with his mouth like he never wants to stop, his hips stuttering forward as he spills into his pants, caught in his own silent climax.
“Fuck
” he moans thickly and long, collapsing against your stomach as your legs tremble and fall to the floor, muscles too weak to hold them up any longer.
For a long moment, neither of you moves, the silence between you filled only by the sound of your ragged breathing, the disaster of the world momentarily forgotten. But eventually, he pulls himself together, straightening up with a sheepish grin, adjusting his pants which are now damp with his own release, his expression cringing just slightly.
You quickly dress again, pulling your suit back into place, feeling a flush of heat creeping into your cheeks. There’s an embarrassment there, sure, but not disgust—not even close. If anything, there’s a strange sense of satisfaction, of relief, and you catch yourself hoping this won’t be the last time you see him, that he isn’t bored now that his hunger has been sated.
But as you reach for your pack, Jungkook’s voice breaks through the quiet, and he gestures for you to follow him deeper into the metro, his arm draping casually around your shoulders as if he can’t quite bring himself to stop touching you. “I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, a grin spreading across his face, his eyes bright with something that looks almost like joy—something you haven’t seen in anyone since the fallout. “You can stay with me if you want.”
There’s a pause, your heart skipping a beat at his offer, and you hesitate only for a second before whispering, “I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay.”
He beams down at you, stars shining in his dark eyes like you haven’t seen in months, and he takes the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Good,” he says softly. “I’d like that too.”
PART 2
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hannieehaee · 11 months ago
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hi! i hope u are doingg greattt! can u please do a wonwoo fic about when u get into an accident while ur husband!wonwoo was on a tour????????plzzzz do this fic and a happy endingg plzzzz
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content: husband!wonwoo, idol!wonwoo, established relationship, gender neutral reader, angst, mentions of an accident, mentions of hospital, (tw for car accident implications), fluff, happy ending, etc.
wc: 1188
a/n: thank u for requesting!! sorry i took a lil while to get to it T-T
masterlist
wonwoo had never felt such fear in his life. i mean, how else was he supposed to react to such an unpredictable situation?
last he had spoken to you had been only three hours ago. on the phone. he had bid you goodbye for the night, letting you know he was about to go on stage and that he'd call you the next morning due to your time differences. he knew you'd be going home from work and head straight to sleep, so he didnt want you to feel like you had to wait up for him as he finished his never-ending setlist.
the next thing he knew, he was walking into the backstage area once more, exhausted but ready to head back to the hotel. except his plans had been interrupted by his manager, who pulled him aside to give him the grim news.
you had gotten on an accident on your way home. there were no more details at the moment. something about your best friend calling wonwoo from the hospital, but his manager had picked up, not understanding much from your friend's frantic rambles. wonwoo's heart immediately dropped at the implication. an accident could mean anything. it had happened on your way home, so that couldve implied a car accident .. wonwoo couldnt breathe anymore. the more he thought, the more his heart raced. his breath became heavy at the bare thought of you scared and alone while at home, not having your husband by your side.
he had been having fun on stage with his best friends while you had gotten hurt. there was no way for him to forgive himself for not being with you right now. he called your phone over and over as he ran to his assigned car, not even caring to change out of his concert ensemble. in the meantime he had his manager book him a flight to you immediately, not giving a second thought to any repercussions to his absence.
it took him a while to receive a response from you, or well, your best friend. she had called from your phone, letting him in on more details of your accident. wonwoo couldnt help but let out a sigh of relief at the news. you were okay. you were alive. you had swerved too harshly in order to avoid a deer that had gotten in your way, which caused the car to crash against a tree. the hood of the car was destroyed beyond reparation, but you had been left injured, but almost unscathed past a few broken bones. it was a broken arm, a broken collarbone, and a few scratches (re: a ton), but it was manageable. he would still dote to you until you healed, but he was just extremely content that you were okay.
regardless of your state, wonwoo still insisted on flying out to you. according to your best friend, you were still passed out. fortunately for wonwoo, his flight would take him to you within five hours, meaning you'd likely be awake by the time he got to you. his heart couldnt help but continue to race for you. the scare was still fresh in his mind, and the thought that he wouldve been away from you had it been something worse made him want to repent.
somehow he managed to fall asleep during the flight, only to be awoken by his manager the moment the plane landed. thankfully, it had been an unplanned flight, which meant wonwoo had the luxury of no one awaiting him at the airport. he had covered himself up – a bucket hat and a face mask sufficed to get him to where he needed to be with no recognition. he made the trip as quick as possible, feeling an instinctual need to be by your side.
after some very inconvenient paperwork, he made it to your room, standing outside as he pondered as to why he was scared to go in. you were fine. and probably even awake by now. but he couldnt help but think: it had taken him a total of seven hours to get to you. if anything ever happened to you, his idol schedule would always get in the way. your husband was not truly a husband. he was always away, always prioritizing his work and his fans, unable to tend to you in such moments. he always knew you'd be better off with someone who partook a more conventional career, but moments like this truly proved his theory.
even now, he felt like a terrible partner. he was pitying himself instead of checking on you. the realization made him shake his head at his own thoughts, forcing them away as he walked in. any thinking prior to that moment had been useless, as his heart became swollen with adoration the moment he saw you look up at the door, smiling as soon as your eyes landed on him. you didnt pay mind to your injuries, sitting up and extending your healthy arm towards him to draw him in.
he couldnt help but fall into your arms, doing his best to avoid any broken bones as he held you against him. he was aware that some of his body weight was above you, but you wouldnt let him pull away to readjust. you wanted him in your arms as much as he did you.
damn any insecurities wonwoo had. he'd be selfish and keep you to himself. if he had to exhaust himself through hours of travel to get to you, he would. or even better, he'd take you with him from now on. be damned anything that tried to get in the way of him and his love.
"my love ..."
"dont worry, nonu. im fine! it was just a freak accident. you didnt have to come, but ... fuck, im so happy you're here," you rambled as soon as you pulled away, still keeping him sitting on the bed as you leaned as close to him as possible.
"ill always come, you know that," he paused, "you scared the fuck out of me, i ... that call. ive never been more terrified. im sorry i wasnt here, im sorry i-"
"wonwoo, no! i understand. i cant believe you flew all the way to see me even if its just a few broken bones. im sorry i scared you."
his hand made its way to your cheek, caressing it gently as he smiled sweetly at you, "dont apologize. ill take a million scares if it means you're okay. i ... is it okay if i stay? i want to take care of you. actually, no, i dont care if its too much, i- i need to be by your side. can i?"
"yes. you dont have to ask, i always want you here."
"good. ill take you home with me as soon as you're discharged. never letting you out of my sight again."
"what about tour, you-"
"shh. ill take care of it. you're my priority. ill take care of you, okay? i love you."
"i love you more, nonu."
he let yet another sigh of relief at those five words, knowing that as soon as he heard those words, he'd be okay. you'd both be okay.
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sol-iscus · 3 days ago
Text
❗Mild arcane spoilers ❗
Miiight ruffle some feathers.
Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because let’s be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.
We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.
It felt as if I was watching all of the characters’ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.
With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.
And I’m just gonna say it.
If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.
Don’t. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Don’t give me that nonsense about how it’s vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).
No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didn’t even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say “cait apologized with her actions”
I don’t care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.
Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.
Also maybe I’m hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelight’s tree?? That’s one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isn’t it? HELLO?
Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.
- Lost her whole family except for Vi.
- Almost died once and was brought back to life.
- Tried to end her life several more times
And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?
“Oh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"
I. Don’t. Care. It’s the principle.
I’m sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because there’s no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.
Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.
We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.
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cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago
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Please please please write something angsty with Hangman that ends with smut, it doesn't have to be too angsty but I really like how soft you write him
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Pairing: Jake “Hangan” Seresin x fem! Reader 
Genre: Smut
Word count: 6.6k 
Summary: You’re a psychologist who is currently working with Maverick which means that Jake Seresin is back in your life. The two of you used to be friends but things changed between you during senior year. Seeing him again brings back memories, and feelings you thought you’d suppressed.
Warnings: not even slightly accurate to irl navy experience (I feel like that would be an assumption but nevertheless), mentions of bullying, Jake being a horrible person in the past, hand stuff, oral fem receiving. 
a/n: lowkey this was rlly fun to write, I'm not so great at angst so I hope this is good. Again, as always, I hope you enjoy and please send any requests you might have <3 I love to write requests so feel free to send anything! Also also, send me a message if you want to be tagged in future Glen Powell/Hangman fics.
You and Jake went to the same highschool and were great friends yet both late bloomers. You grew into yourself during your sophomore year of college whereas Jake did in Senior year of high school, when he got his big growth spurt and lost his braces. Something about him entirely humiliating you by standing you up on Prom night, something you were looking forward to, simply because of how much you liked him has you holding a grudge. 
So when you ran into him during your new position as a clinical psychologist for the Navy, your heart quite literally stopped. You thought that pretending you didn't see him would suffice, but, unfortunately the universe has a completely different plan. 
Your boss had introduced you to Maverick, they planned to have you check out his new team in order to make sure they are competent for the missions the government plans for them to complete. That's how you ended up in the gruff man's office every morning, despite his obvious disdain for your presence in their team. 
The evening sunlight beats down on you as you stand next to Maverick, watching the team go through their training drills. You notice him glance over at you, before focusing back on the team in front of you.
"How's that observing going for you?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, never taking his eyes off the team performing push-ups.
“Honestly Sir,” you glance over to him, “You’re really good at training, but I think you should be flying missions. You’re too good of a pilot to be stuck on teaching duties.” 
Maverick pauses for a moment, caught off guard by your unexpected compliment. It's clear he wasn't expecting you to say that. He huffs, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss what you said.
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, sweetheart." He smirks and turns to look you in the eye. "I take it you read up on my file, huh? Got all the dirty little details on Mr. Top Gun himself."
“Of course, but my father trained here a couple years after you.” your gaze returns to the aviators, “He’s always looked up to you, says you're one of the greatest.” 
Maverick's smirk falters for a second, his expression unreadable. He shifts his weight and adjusts the collar of his shirt, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Your old man, huh?” He clears his throat. “I had no idea." There's a brief pause before he speaks again, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. "What's he doing nowadays?"
You reply with a shrug, “Not sure. He wasn’t so keen on having a *shrink* hanging around. Said it cramps his style.” Maverick snorts, that sarcastic smirk returning to his face. 
"Yeah, that sounds like a pilot, alright." He says with a chuckle. His gaze flicks over to the team, currently going through flight drills. He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, a hint of contemplation in his voice. "Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?”
“I did, but I don't think I meet the height requirement.” you smile up at him. Maverick chuckles at your joke, a rare glimpse of genuine humor in his expression.
"Ah yes, the height requirement. The bane of many short people's existence." He teases, his smirk widening. Before you can respond, both of you turn your attention to the sound of the aviators approaching. They look exhausted but pleased, clearly proud of a job well done.
Jake walks towards you, sweat dripping down his forehead from the strenuous training. He stands a little too close, his eyes fixed on you and his breathing heavy. "Hey, Y/N." Jake says, his voice strained from the workout. "You got a minute?” you shift your gaze to the older man at your right, clearing your throat before speaking. 
“No, I’m quite busy.” your usual playful tone is replaced with a distant and cold one.
Maverick picks up on your plea immediately, his expression hardening at the sight of Jake's attempt to speak with you. He steps forward slightly, creating a small barrier between you and Jake.
Jake looks taken back by your cold response, his cocky demeanor slipping slightly. He glances between you and Maverick, clearly confused. "Ah, come on. Just a quick minute." He presses.
“There’s time to talk later.” Maverick interrupts, making you sigh in relief. Jake's cocky smile falters at your cold rejection and Maverick's intervention. He glances at the older man, clearly annoyed by his interruption. 
"It's alright, Maverick," he says, trying to shrug off Maverick's protective stance. "I just wanted to talk to Y/N for a second. It won't take long."  you cower behind Mav, unwilling to face Jake alone again.
Rooster interrupts the tense situation, “Mav, should we hit the showers? Or is there more training to be done?” Jake’s face darkens at Rooster’s question, clearly frustrated that his attempt to speak with you is being constantly interrupted. He clenches his jaw, his irritation palpable.
Maverick, however, remains calm. He gives you a reassuring look before turning to face his team. "Yeah, you guys go ahead and hit the showers." Maverick says, his hand still on your shoulder. "I’ll take care of the situation here." The team nods, sensing the tension in the air, and starts making their way towards the showers.
You avoid Jake's gaze, biting down on your lower lip as you sigh with the tension between the three of you. As the team heads off to the showers, the tension in the air still hangs heavily. Jake stands there, hands on his hips, as he stares at you with a mix of disappointment and anger.
Meanwhile, Maverick's hand goes to your shoulder, a silent show of support. "You really going to keep avoiding me like this?" Jake finally blurts out, breaking the silence.
“If I can.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re like a damn hawk.” Mav gives you a quizzical gaze before you sigh. “It’s okay Sir, I’ll talk to him” he gives you a soft nod, heading off toward the buildings. 
Once Maverick leaves, Jake's attention refocuses on you, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer. "You’ve been avoiding me all week. We need to talk." His voice is firm, his frustration evident.
“It’s only been a couple days,” you protest, Jake's annoyance only grows at your words, his jaw tightening as he steps even closer, closing the space between you. 
"A couple of days?! It's felt like an eternity. And yeah, I remember our last conversation. It didn't exactly go well." He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. "You can't keep brushing me aside like this." 
You take a few steps back, sighing with defeat. “Jake, why do you care so much now?” Jake's eyes flick down to the space between you, watching you take a few steps back. His expression softens slightly as he hears the resignation in your voice.
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features. "Why do I care?” he repeats, as if the answer should be obvious. “Because I..." He trails off, his own emotions catching him off guard. He pauses, grappling with the words he wants to say, before finding them again. 
You gulp, brushing past him heading toward the buildings. Jake turns, his eyes following you as you try to brush past him. He reaches out, his hand encircling your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
"Hey, wait." His voice is softer now, more pleading. "Please, just stop and listen to me for a second."
“Okay, fine.” you pull your wrist from his grasp. Jake's hand hangs in the air for a moment after you pull away, your sharp movement surprising him slightly. But he quickly regains his composure and drops it back to his side.
He takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he restrains himself. "I just... I can't stand this. This constant avoidance." 
“Worked well for you when it was you avoiding me.” you bite back. 
Jake's face flushes slightly, guilt flashing across his features. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own past behavior. He lets out a frustrated breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. "That was different..." 
“It’s not and you know it.” your head lowers as your mind goes back to your previous conversation, where you confessed your feelings for him and he shut them down quickly. Jake looks at you as your head lowers, regret in his eyes. He instinctively reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.
"Baby, please." His voice is soft, almost pleading. "Just let me talk for a minute." His touch is tentative, as if he's afraid you'll brush him away again. He wants you to hear him out, but he doesn't want to push you further away in the process. 
You’re taken aback by the pet name, allowing him time to speak. Jake notices the effect his words have on you, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. He realizes that he might have a chance to explain himself now.
He takes a deep breath and begins, his voice steady but sincere. "When you told me about your feelings, it took me completely by surprise. I didn't expect it at all. And, honestly, I didn't know how to handle it." His gaze drops to the ground for a moment, his hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. 
You take a deep breath, “Jake,” you move his hand from you. “The only reason you care now is because, because I’m finally *decent* enough for your attention.” 
Jake's expression darkens at your words, a mixture of anger and regret in his eyes. He knows your words carry truth, and it hurts. "That's not true." he protests, his voice tight. "If I'm here now, it's not because I suddenly think you're *decent enough*. It's because..." 
“Because what?” your eyes scan his face. 
Jake runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words to explain himself. His eyes lock onto yours, as he tries to convey the depth of his emotions.
"Because I realize now what an idiot I've been," he bursts out, his frustration and remorse clear in his tone. "But... something changed and I..." 
“What changed?” you sigh, Jake's eyes drop to the ground as he grapples with how to answer. He runs a hand through his hair before looking back up at you.
"I don't know," he admits, his voice quieter now, "maybe it was time, or realizing I'm not a kid anymore, but..." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're different now. You've grown, you've become this..." He gestures towards you, struggling to find the right words. 
“Jake stop..” you look up at him with wary eyes, “That's not fair,”
Jake stops, his eyes widening at your words. "What do you mean it's not fair?" He steps forward, confusion and frustration etched in his expression.
"I'm trying to explain myself, to make you understand why I care now," he says, his voice straining to remain calm. "How is that not fair?"
“Why? Why now?” your voice becomes louder with your growing frustration. Jake's own frustration flares up in response to your growing anger. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he tries to control his emotions.
"I can't explain why now!" he snaps, his voice rising to match yours. "I don't know why I didn't say anything before. I was a dumbass, and I'm sorry!" He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving your face. "I... I just wish I could go back and fix everything.” 
You open your mouth to speak, yet nothing leaves your lips. Jake notices your hesitation and his expression softens slightly, hope flickering in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his voice quieter now.
"Please. Just... say something. Anything." his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand pressing into the small of your back. You stay silent, unable to process his words and find a response. 
Jake's touch on your waist is firm but not overpowering. He pulls you closer, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response. He notices your silence, the way you seem to be frozen in place. His brow furrows with concern. "Please, talk to me," he pleads. "Don't just stand there." 
You cover his mouth with your hand, needing a second to think. Jake freezes as you place your hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking any further for the moment. He instinctively responds to your touch, however, pressing a soft kiss against your palm.
His eyes fix on yours, full of hope and anticipation, waiting for you to speak. You feel your guard dropping with his affection, leaning into his body. 
Jake pulls you closer as you lean into him, his arms wrapping fully around you. The tension in the air eases slightly as he holds you tight against his body, his heart racing against your chest. He takes a deep breath, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Please, just talk to me," he whispers into your hair, his voice gentle and desperate. 
“Jake
” you press your forehead against his shoulder, “I..” Jake feels your forehead press against his shoulder, and he holds you a little tighter, his arms encircling you like a protective veil.
"Please," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, "tell me what you're thinking." He gently tucks a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, desperate for some kind of response. 
Your eyes glance to his lips, hands grasping his sides. “I, uh. I don’t know what to say,” your tongue flicks out to wet your lip. Jake's body tenses as he leans in towards you, his breath warm against your lips. He holds you tightly, his grip firm but gentle.
"You don't have to say anything," he murmurs, the corners of his lips barely brushing against yours, "Just... just let me show you." His eyes search yours, filled with a deep mixture of desire and vulnerability. Waiting for your response, for any sign that it's okay to proceed. 
“Jake..” you murmur, his breath hitches at the tone of your voice, the sound of his name on your lips sending a shiver down his spine. He leans in even closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours, his eyes locked on yours.
"Say it again," he whispers, his voice low and rough. "Say my name again." you shake your head in response,  pressing your lips to his. Jake's heart stutters at the touch of your lips against his. He responds immediately, the tension between you snapping as he kisses you back.
He molds his body against yours, one hand gripping your hip to pull you tighter against his chest. The other hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He kisses you deeply, a thousand unsaid words translated through the contact. 
Your desire momentarily outweighs your grudge against him. Your resistance fades further as Jake's hand slides down your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. He caresses your body with a combination of firm desire and tender finesse, as if he's both demanding and reverent.
His hand cups your ass, his touch a combination of possessive and loving. He pulls you even closer, pressing your body fully against his, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his body craving more, but his hands remain gentle and careful. 
Jake pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you gasp for air, chests heaving as you take a moment to catch your breath.
His eyes remain locked onto yours, a mix of desire, hope, and something else - something deeper - swirling within them. His hands remain on your body, his touch possessive but tender. He runs his thumb over your cheek, a soft gesture of affection. "Say something," he murmurs again, his voice gruff with need. 
“I think,” you take a deep breath, “I think I should leave Jake.” your hands fall from his sides. 
As you speak, as those words leave your lips, something flickers in Jake's eyes. Fear, regret, desperation, all battling for dominance within him. He feels your hands fall away from his sides and his own hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if reflexively trying to pull you back.
"Please, don't go." His voice is thick with emotion, his grip on you bordering on pleading. "Please." your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him in for another deep kiss. Your brain constantly fighting the way your body clings to him. 
As your lips meet in another deep kiss, Jake melts into your touch like a man starved. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, his touch firm and possessive.
He kisses you hungrily, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking connection and reassurance. His heartbeat thuds against your chest, his body reacting to your touch with a mix of need and desperation. 
He doesn't want to let you go. Not now. Jake's body presses even closer against yours, his leg slipping in between yours, creating a tantalizing friction as he wedges himself between your thighs.
His hands roam your body, his touch both rough and tender, a manifestation of the emotions he can't quite find words for. His mouth moves down your neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, more possessive, like a man marking his claim.
He needs you, and he's making it painfully clear. You moan softly, your head leaning to the side to give him better access. Jake's hands grip your hips as he kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path of fire along your skin. The sound of your soft moans only emboldens him, his own body responding to your noises in kind.
You feel him harden against you, a physical reminder of his desire for you. His kisses grow more intense, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he tries to reign in his self-control. 
He wants more. He needs more. He growls against your skin, his hands moving under your shirt, his fingers tracing up your sides. He nips lightly at your collarbone, his own need growing with each sound that leaves your lips.
“Mm Jake,” you push against his chest, “Wait.” Jake's body stills as you push against his chest, his mind still clouded with desire. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy and dark.
He tries to process what you're saying, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He swallows hard, trying to control his racing heart. "Wait... what?" His voice is low and hoarse, his body still pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hip. 
“Take me home,” you murmur, intoxicated by his body on yours. Your lips press to his with hunger, arms wrapping around his neck. Jake's brain struggles to process your words, his body still caught in the haze of desire that surrounds you both. But as your lips brush against his again, the sound of your voice, filled with need, cuts through the fog.
He responds to your hunger with his own, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, his body pressed completely against yours.
When the kiss finally breaks, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a ragged whisper. "Yes. Anything you want." you nod against his head, pulling him closer as you’re unwilling to let him go. 
Jake holds you tight as you nod, his arms encircling you possessively, not wanting to let you go either.
He takes a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts. But the feeling of you in his arms, the sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, they all cloud his mind and make it difficult to do anything but touch you.
He nuzzles his face into your neck, his voice low and rough. "We need to go." 
“Mhm,” your hands wander down his chest, to his lower abdomen, moving to his belt. “We really need to,” Your touch on his body sets his nerves on fire, his muscles tensing under your hands as you move them lower. The feel of your fingers on his belt sends a shiver down his spine, his breath hitching at the contact.
He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure, but your proximity and your touch make it difficult. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control himself. His voice, when he speaks, is a rough murmur. "Not here.”
You reluctantly pull away from him, handing him the keys from your pocket. Jake takes them from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the contact electric. He watches you pull away, his eyes following your movements closely.
He clenches the keys in his fist, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat in his veins. His body thrums with need, the need to touch you, to hold you, to *claim* you.
He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Lead the way." you slide into the passenger seat of your car, putting your address into the gps, restlessly waiting for him inside. Jake slides into the driver's seat beside you, his movements quick and urgent. The sight of you in the seat next to him, the knowledge that he's about to take you home, only serves to heighten his desire.
He starts the car, his hand gripping the gear shift tightly, his knuckles turning white. He glances over at you, taking in your restless demeanor, and a smirk crosses his lips. He knows exactly how affected you are, and it only makes his own need surge. Your hand falls to his lap as you squeeze your legs together in anticipation of what's to come. 
Jake's breath hitches as your hand lands on his lap, the touch sending a jolt through his body. He can tell how tightly you're holding yourself, how the anticipation is affecting you, and it only adds to his own desire.
His eyes flicker down to your hand on his lap, and he has to fight the urge to pull the car over and take you right then and there.
He keeps his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled. "We're almost there." His voice is hoarse, filled with tension. 
“Almost,” you whisper in response, moving your fingertips over his bulge, teasing his body. 
Your fingers brush over his erection, and he lets out a strangled gasp. His hand flies to yours, pressing your hand against him, as if trying to both stop you and encourage you at the same time.
He clenches his jaw, his body tensing at your touch. "Tease," he mutters through clenched teeth, his eyes darting from the road to you and back again. He groans, his body aching for release. You move closer, using your free hand to unbuckle his belt. 
You successfully remove his belt, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. Jake's breath catches in his throat as you move closer, your hands working on removing his pants. His body tenses, both in anticipation and because he's trying to focus on driving.
He bites back another curse as you unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes flickering between the road and your hands. He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with tension. "We're almost there," he repeats, his voice strained. "Just... just hold on a little longer." 
“Fifteen more minutes,” you groan, hand sliding into his pants. Jake's body jerks at your touch, his hips lifting involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. He lets out a low, ragged groan, struggling to keep his focus on the road.
He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Fifteen minutes," he repeats in agreement, his voice gravelly and rough, "that's it. I can last fifteen minutes." He reaches down, his hand covering yours, but not pushing you away, his touch firm and possessive. 
“Mm, but I can’t.” you murmur as you free him from his boxers, his erection standing straight up. Your words and your touch send a shiver down Jake's spine, his body responding to your every move. 
He closes his eyes for a moment, your touch like fire to his skin, the air in the car suddenly thick. "Jesus," he breathes, his head falling back, "you're going to make me crash."
As you stroke him gently, Jake's eyes fly open, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to drive," he warns, his voice strained with desire.
Ignoring Jake's warning, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. His body jolts with surprise and pleasure. Your hand continues to stroke him as your mouth moves closer to his erection, and with a strangled groan, he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road, the tires screeching against the pavement. 
His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and alarm, but he says nothing as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His hands fly to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to suck, the rhythm slow and tantalizing.
His hands grasp your shoulders, gently but firmly, and he pulls you away from his lap. "Wait, wee can't do this here," he says, his voice strained with need and concern. His eyes are dark with desire, but he's visibly fighting to regain control. "Not here, this wouldn’t be right." His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the heavy panting of your breath and the pulsing of his erection against your hand. 
You reluctantly pull back, your own desire warring with the understanding in his gaze. "Let's go to your place," he suggests, his voice still thick with lust. "We can... talk things out properly there." He releases you, his hands dropping to the steering wheel as he takes several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.
He speeds to your place, rushing to get you inside. The tension in the car is palpable as Jake shifts it into park, his eyes never leaving yours. You both exit the vehicle, and he takes your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle given the fiery passion that had flared between you moments ago. As you enter your townhouse, the urgency from the car seems to dissipate slightly, allowing for a brief moment of awkwardness to settle in. 
You unlock the door and lead him inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the heat that still simmers between you. Once the door is closed, Jake turns to you, his gaze searching your face for any hint of regret or hesitation. Seeing none, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that's both desperate and tender. 
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, as if trying to erase the years of hurt and distance. His hands roam over your body, reacquainting themselves with your curves, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.
The kiss deepens, and Jake's hands move to the button of your pants, his fingers deftly undoing it and sliding the zipper down. You gasp into his mouth as he breaks the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels before you. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. 
His gaze travels downward, taking in your wetness with a mix of hunger and awe. "Fuck," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, before pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh as he moves closer to your center. His tongue traces the line of your pussy, eliciting a moan from deep within you. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks you with purposeful strokes, the heat of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. 
You lean back, falling into the couch, your legs spreading wider, giving him full access to explore and taste you. The tension of the day dissipates as he worships your body, his mouth working magic on your clit, his hands exploring and caressing you as if trying to make up for lost time. The air is thick with the scent of arousal, the only sounds in the room your muffled moans and the wet sounds of his tongue against your skin. 
Jake's eyes meet yours again, and you can see the need in them, the raw desire that matches your own. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, urging him closer, whispering his name as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.
As Jake continues to kiss and suck on your clit, you can't help but squirm against his mouth, the sensations building to an unbearable peak. You grab onto his shoulders for support, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. 
Suddenly, the dam breaks and you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. He doesn't pull away, instead, he laps up every drop of your release, groaning with his own pleasure at the taste of you. 
As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse onto the couch, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "See, we can still get along," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 
The sight of him standing there, looking so confident and desperate for more, makes your heart race. You can't deny the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that's always been there. But as you look into his eyes, you know that this isn't just about sex. 
Jake's kisses slowly travel up your legs, turning from hungry to gentle pecks that make your skin tingle with sensitivity. His eyes never leave yours as he shifts his body, moving from his knees to the couch beside you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you can feel his heart racing in sync with your own. 
His other hand continues to trace patterns on your bare thigh, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervor of moments ago. His eyes are filled with a tenderness that you never knew existed within him, and it's this that has your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. 
With trembling hands, Jake fumbles with his zipper, the metal teeth parting with a low hiss. His eyes never leave your face, the intensity of his gaze setting your skin alight. He swiftly pushes his pants down to his thighs, freeing his erection. It stands tall and proud, a testament to his desire. The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with anticipation.
You pull him to you by his collar, kissing his lips hungrily. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your skin, but the heat of his body underneath is anything but. His tongue meets yours with an urgency that mirrors your own, your kisses deepening as his hand slides up your shirt, palming your breast. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his thumb grazes your nipple.
He pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. He kisses you again, his tongue invading your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless. You can feel him, hot and hard, pressing against your wetness, and it's all you can do to not grind down onto him immediately.
Jake's hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body as if he's worshiping a sacred relic. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin as he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, sucking marks that make you shiver with pleasure. His teeth graze your skin, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a sting that makes your pulse race.
As your moans fill the quiet room, you can't help but move your hand to wrap around his erection. Your grip is firm, your strokes measured as you watch his face contort with pleasure. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back, and the noises he makes are pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You stroke him faster, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart.
His hips buck upward, meeting your hand with each stroke, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. You can feel the tension in his body, the coiled spring of his muscles ready to snap. And when he's right there, on the precipice of climax, his head falls forward into the crook of your neck, his mouth finding your skin.
The feel of his needy moans against your flesh sends a shiver down your spine, your own body responding to the raw, primal sounds. You tighten your grip, your strokes becoming quicker, more erratic, your own breathing syncing with his. Each moan that escapes his lips is like a command, urging you to bring him over the edge.
His body tenses beneath you, his muscles tightening like a bowstring about to snap. And then it happens. With a guttural moan, he cums undone in your hand, his release hot and sticky as it coats your palm and fingers. His hips jerk upward, his cock pulsing in your grip as he rides out the waves of pleasure. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breath comes out in sharp gasps.
For a moment, there's silence, save for the sound of your own racing heart and his labored breathing. You sit there, still straddling him, watching him come down from the high of his orgasm. His chest is heaving, his eyes still closed as he savors the feeling.
You slide from his lap, relaxing into your couch as the weight of your actions crashes over you. You turn your back to him, biting your lip as you think about what to do next.
Jake watches you, his eyes tracing the curves of your body, still trying to regain his breath. He reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle but insistent. "Look at me," he murmurs, his voice raspy and rough.
You turn to him with a breathy sigh, avoiding his gaze. Jake notices your averted eyes, his fingers moving to your chin, gently lifting it until you're forced to meet his gaze. 
"Don't look away," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. "I want to see you."
"Jake," you whisper his name, eyes softening at his expression. You knew it wasn’t a mistake, it couldn't be, not on your part. You've been in love with him your whole life, but what if it was all lust for him. 
Jake cups your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the lines of your cheekbones. He can see the mixture of emotions in your eyes - love, lust, fear, and regret. He gently shakes his head, his gaze intense.
“Jake, is this really what you wanted?” you take a deep breath, “Not just some game to you?” 
Jake watches you intently as you withdraw, his hands falling to your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. "This isn't a game to me," he says, his voice serious. "It never was." 
He pulls you closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've always wanted you, more than anything else," he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "But I thought I lost my chance with you a long time ago." he presses a soft kiss to your chest. 
The tension in your body vanishes the second he speaks, you relax into his touch, audibly sighing. “Always?”
Jake smiles, his hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every contour. "Always," he confirms, his voice a whisper. "Since we were kids." He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. He can feel your tension melting away, replaced by an air of comfortable intimacy.
“You’re confusing,” you sigh, feeling his hands pulling you closer to him, his chin resting on top of your breasts. 
Jake chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. "I know," he replies, his arms encircling you possessively. "I've always had a habit of making you scratch your head, haven't I?"
He nuzzles his face against your chest, his tongue tracing a gentle line between your cleavage. "But that's nothing new," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I've always gotten a kick out of confusing you."
You gasp in response to his tongue, hands squeezing his shoulders. “Mm, fuck.” Jake feels your hands clenching his shoulders, and he grins against your skin, his tongue continuing to explore the valley between your breasts. 
"Language, princess," he teases, his voice laced with amusement. "You know how I feel about filthy mouths."His lips move up to your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "Makes me want to shut you up."
“Are you going to be able to be professional at work?” your murmur, hands tangling in his hair as you force him to look at you.
Jake chuckles, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you kidding me?" he counters, his grin widening. "When have I ever been professional when it comes to you?"
He shakes his head, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "I've been trying to hide how I feel about you for years. Do you really think now that I've finally got you in my arms, I'm going to play it cool at work?"
“Jake,” you purse your lips at him, pressing a quick peck to his. “You know that I already have a problem with your coworkers
I don't want to make it worse.”
Jake lets out a groan of frustration, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. "I know, I know," he mutters, his lips returning to your neck. "But can you blame me for acting like a possessive jerk? You've got all those guys drooling over you, and it drives me insane."
“They only drool over me because of how form fitting my uniform is,” you reply sweetly, “Now imagine if they saw me in a bikini.” you whisper against his ear teasingly. 
Jake's grip on you tightens, his breath hitching at your words. "A bikini," he repeats, his voice dropping an octave. "Now that's a mental image I'll have trouble getting out of my head."
He pulls back slightly to look at you, his gaze dark with desire. "You like teasing me, don't you?" he accuses, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know what that does to me."
“I think we need to take a beach trip one of these days,” you smile innocently.
Jake's hands continue to roam your body, his touch growing more possessive. "A beach trip?" he echoes, his mind already filling with images of you in a bikini. "That's a dangerous idea, princess."
He leans in, his lips moving to your ear. "But I like how you think," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.
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writeaboutit · 26 days ago
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Thus With a Kiss, I Die
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Firefighter Abby and Reader get trick-or-treaters
Wanted to get out one last Halloween-themed fic before spooky season ends(even though it's technically the 1st). I had a couple more ideas, one including a Halloween party that would bring in the other characters(Ellie, Dina, Jessie, etc.) but idk if I want them in this universe or not so lmk if y'all would be interested in that or not. Anyway, I hope you like it and happy last days of spooky season!!
Series: p1,2,3
Word Count: 945
Warnings: None
You tried and failed to walk down the hallway in a normal way—those damn wings. The costume was cute but you kept forgetting about the wings strapped to your back. You couldn’t really tell if that was a good or bad thing.
On one hand, they were light enough to endure wearing them for the next two hours while you and Abby handed out candy to the neighborhood trick-or-treaters and then three more hours for the Halloween party. On the other hand, you had already lost seven wing feathers to various walls, low-hanging light fixtures, and one door jam. 
You turned sideways and shimmied down the hall to accommodate the small space and expansive wings. You would get used to it
 or at least that's what you keep telling yourself as you round the corner into your bedroom. 
Abby was sitting on the edge of your mattress struggling with a buckle on the arm cuff on her fake metal armor. Suddenly you thought you probably shouldn’t be complaining about the wings. You knew that Abby’s costume was a sensory nightmare but she was ignoring it to appease you and your dream couple's costume. 
It was your first Halloween in the new house and you were dying to dress up. You had only lived in apartments previously and being in a house this year meant trick-or-treaters surly. You'd be damned if you didn’t go all out with your costume.
So here you were wearing massive white wings and a long white dress, Abby across from you wearing a grey get-up covered in chain mail and fake shoulder/arm armor, a sword sticking out of her belt loop—the perfect Romeo and Juliet. 
Although you knew Abby was probably more uncomfortable than not you had to admit that she looked hot as shit and by the way she went still forgetting the stupid buckle to drink you in she was thinking the same thing. 
You took a deep breath trying to steel yourself against your wife's burning gaze and walked to the space in between her spread knees. 
“Let me help,” you motioned down to her wrist and loose armor. 
She raised her arm without comment. You could tell she was staring at you but you focused on feeding the leather strap through the buckle and tightening it. You guys did not have time to get
distracted. 
“You look so pretty, baby.” She broke the silence and you could no longer avoid her pulling eyes. 
“Thank you, so do you.” You said softly leaning down to press a light kiss to her cheek. 
She hummed at the contact and bracketed her arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you into her. 
You laughed at the sudden tug and braced your arms on her shoulders for support. The pair of you stared at each other for a long while, in complete silence. You spent the moment—what felt like ten years, debating whether or not the distraction would be worth it. You could just run downstairs and throw the candy bowl out on the porch for the kids to help themselves. 
Yes, that sounded like a very pleasant idea. Just as you were about to suggest it to your wife the doorbell rang. 
You squealed forgetting about that plan. You guys could do that later, right now you were too excited to celebrate the holiday. You couldn’t wait until you and Abby had kids one day and were able to take them trick-or-treating. For now, handing out candy would have to suffice. 
You pulled out of Abby’s grasp and tugged on her arms, “Come on, come on. We have our first trick-or-treaters!” 
Abby laughed at your excitement. She was glad that you were getting so much joy out of the night even though all you were going to be doing was sitting by the door and saying hello and goodbye to kids dressed as Disney princesses or video game characters. 
You guys rushed down the hall, well more like you and Abby just followed at a reasonable pace. You could hear the high-pitched voices of excited children on the other side of the door and you grabbed the fake cauldron full of candy and unlocked the door. 
Abby hung back just slightly from the open door frame making sure your guys' dog Alice didn’t become an escape artist and jump scare the kids. 
She smiled as you gasped and asked a little girl if she was the little mermaid. The little girl squealed excited that someone knew who she was and excitedly exclaimed, “Yes! Do you like my dress?” 
“I love your dress,” you dragged out the love for emphasis. 
Yeah, Abby was fucked. She wanted to make you a mom, like yesterday, despite the logistical hurdle regarding that. 
You finished dishing out the candy and closed the door a smile on your face. When you met Abby’s eyes you knew exactly what was brewing behind her eyes. 
“Nope. Stop looking at me like that, we definitely do not have time for that.” You waved a hand over her form. 
“Not even just a little bit of time?” She grabbed the center of your dress and pulled you in, “I can make it real quick baby,” She whispered against your lips. 
Your heart stalled in your chest. Well
 when she put it like that?
Just as you went to answer her the doorbell rang again causing you to laugh and her to groan. She rested her forehead against yours and you answered, “Sorry baby, you’re just gonna have to wait until tonight.”
You pulled out of her grasp once more and placed a light pat on her ass. She groaned again.
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symp4nat · 10 months ago
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heyo!! Can you write a clarisse x apollo reader fic where everything reader tries to write or draw it ends up being about her. Some of her siblings saw it and began teasing her about it. Eventually, Clarisse finds out about it and tries to draw reader and give it toher, shes all shy about it bait doesn't look that good but reader doesn't care and loves it anyway, also they get together
thanks :)
Crayons
clarisse la rue x reader
warnings - wee bit suggestive
Your girlfriend lingered somewhere around camp, you already had asked her to give you space. No, you weren't in an argument, you just wanted some alone time. To draw.
Usually, you'd draw at night time, in the dimness of the moonlight, but recently, that wouldn't suffice. Daylight was undoubtedly the appropriate time to do something like this, but the fear that you'd get caught had you in shambles.
You were a singer, a poet, a songwriter. Although you usually could write without a muse, you couldn't imagine a life without Clarisse as your muse now. Except, you couldn't stop. It was like Clarisse was your favourite candy, you were addicted.
Everything you did had a secret connotation that somehow led back to her. She was the emblem of your creativity.
"Hey, you," Clarisse said excitedly as she barged into your cabin and plopped onto your bed. Anddd.... your gentle moment of bliss had dissipated. Her head leaned onto your shoulder and you tucked your notebook away while leaning your cheek onto her head.
Your fingers managed to find a way to intertwine themselves with hers and you mumbled, "How was your day?" She shrugged and hummed in response. Her legs entangled with yours and she straddled your lap and your eyes widened.
Clarisse quickly grabbed your notebook and rolled off of you. You gasped and lunged onto her to grab it. A few of your siblings walked in and they looked at you in surprise, in shock; they had assumed the worst. "No, I swear," you exclaimed.
They giggled out and one of your younger siblings grasped the notebook from Clarisse, "Hope you don't have dad's luck with love."
With a gasp, your notebook was snatched from your siblings as they observed it dramatically. Clarisse's eyes skimmed over the pages that fell open and you closed it before you could embarrass yourself even further. You stuffed the notebook in a lockbox and shooed your siblings out.
A sigh left your lips and you rested your head on Clarisse's chest. "Shut up," you groaned as you felt her about to say something.
-
A rare sight was met as big, bad Clarisse sat at the Arts & Crafts table with all the younger kids. She was also interacting with them, happily. Which wasn't usual.
A pack of crayons sat next to a paper on the table she was at and she didn't spare a glance at the people sending awful, judgmental stares.
Her new friends helped her scribble on the white sheet of printer paper. She showed the paper proudly to all the kids and they cheered. Clarisse leaped up and ran to the Apollo cabin. She opened the door and shoved the paper in your face. "Look," she said excitedly.
You beamed and held the paper away from your face to examine it. It was a drawing of you and her, holding hands. It looked like an eight year old drew it, but she did, your eight year old drew it, your Clarisse.
A soft, bubbly laugh erupted from your throat and you thanked her. You pinned it up on your headboard as she rambled, "I.. um... sorry if it's bad, I tried and the kids helped me, I just thought it's a good little gif-"
She was cut off by your lips on hers and she melted into your embrace. "It's cute, I love it, I love you. Thank you," you mumbled against her lips.
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sourrpatched · 1 month ago
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àŒ’ p.js LOVE BITES 
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Pairing > Vampire!Park Jisung x Fem!Reader
Genre > Comedy, Brother’s Bestfriend (y/n is related to Chenle), fluff, sort of angst (not that bad), loosely based in the late 90s
Sypnosis > After surviving the brink of death, Park Jisung must navigate his new life as a Vampire, and what that means for the one sided love he’s had on his best friend’s sister for his entire life. Oh, and there’s also an army of freshly turned Vampires trying to wipe out the entire cities population, leaving Jisung and his group of friends to try and put a stop to them.
Warnings > Blood (obviously), Cult references (like twice maybe?), Cursing, I think that’s it?
Word Count > 18k (DAMN!)
A/N > I had way too much fun writing in stupid jokes so pls don’t take this so seriously 😭 it’s just a silly story I hope you all enjoy <3
playlist > Love Bites- Def Leppard, Tear You Apart- She Wants Revenge, You slept on me- Allie X
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Melody, October 13
Jisung couldn’t remember what happened that ended with him in the hospital, but right now that was the least of his worries. He was sure he had heard from one of the nurses that he had at least one rib broken and his arm hurt like a bitch so it was probably fractured or something, but what he was most worried about was if his walkman was okay.
It was a gift from Chenle last week and if he broke it he was very sure Chenle would find a new bone to break in his body. He had just bitched at him for breaking the Tamagotchi he was babysitting while you were out of town, if he found out now that the walkman was broken, it would be over for Jisung. He let out a breath then winced at the pain the simple action had caused him.
Yeah, how the hell was he going to get out of this one.
It was two in the morning when Jisung had woken up from what was supposed to be his afternoon nap. The room was pitch black and the house stayed empty and silent, he turned on the lamp grimacing at the movement.
His shoulder felt like it’d been ran over by a train and he was sure it was due to the living room couch he had fallen asleep on. He had been telling his mom for the past year that the couch was better off six feet under, she held too much sentimental value towards it so it remained. He massaged his shoulder and reached for the remote that lay on the floor.
A quick scroll through the channels landed on the movie Jaws. He had been meaning to watch it ever since his boss had suggested it for a late night date with a girl. Not that he had a girl to watch it with of course, he was only trying to expand his tastes. It had nothing to do with the fact that Chenle had once mentioned that you were a fan of sharped tooth enemies.
The movie was still in the beginning from what he could tell since there was no shark in sight. It was when the young lady was dragged under the water that the movie was disrupted by the sound of his stomach growling. He forgot that he had eaten sleep for lunch.
The movie continued as he began searching the fridge for anything he could eat. An almost half empty jug of milk and lime flavored jell-o stared back at him. He sighed turning his gaze back to where the movie played. His eyes zooming in on the coffee table in front of the TV, where remnants of the last pack of cherry flavored jell-o remained.
His parents had left for some weird family thing he had no interest in pertaining to, and for that reason he was left to deal with the consequences. His stomach roared in hunger, he contemplated looking through the cabinets and finding something else to eat instead, but then he’d have to worry less about death by starvation and instead death by house fire.
He dug his hand into his pocket finding his wallet with three dollars to spare and a crushed mint. The mint would do nothing to fix his need for food, so the dollars would have to suffice.
If there was one thing Jisung was thankful for, it was to the employees who worked overnight shifts and Janice. She was the convenience store worker who would keep this seven eleven running on weekends during the deep hours of the night.
She had all the patience in the world which was perfect for the definition of indecisiveness himself, Park Jisung who was currently in the middle of a debate between spicy pork and spicy chicken ramen noodles for his late dinner.
He was standing for a good five minutes before his appetite began to beg, very loudly, for mercy. He grabbed a bag of shin ramen instead, grabbing a coke from out of the fridge and heading straight to the counter.
“Has it been slow?” Jisung’s voice wrung silent to Janice’s ears as she scanned the items on the table.
He figured she must’ve not heard him and cleared his throat. “I appreciate you for working so late at night, people like me tend to skip meals and it’s pretty convenient to have a store like this open at this time.”
She began to place his items into a bag. “That must be why they call it the convenience store.” He let out a humorless laugh.
“Your total is two fifty.” Janice replies flatly.
He hands her the last of his three dollars, grabbing the bag from the counter. “Keep the change.” He walks away overlooking the scowl on her face.
As he walks out of the seven eleven and makes his way through the alley straight to his house, there’s a whistle that stops him in his tracks. He pauses for a moment, trying to make out whether or not the sound was further or closer to him.
Where the hell is this coming from?
He continues walking this time much more careful than before, his friends would probably mock him for being such a scaredy cat but he couldn’t help the ominous feeling he got in his gut.
He jumps when the power suddenly goes out, only making the alleyway appear much more obscure than before. His body tenses, whispering to himself,
Please don’t be a ghost.
He hears a crash, taking that as his cue to run off down the rest of the way. His breathes grow heavier as he sprints down the alley, hearing footsteps follow behind him.
His eyes shut in fear, which is something that Renjun would probably tell him is in the book of 101 horror stupidity, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It feels like an eternity once he makes it out of there, he sighs in relief but only for a moment. He can feel eyes on him.
“Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He whispers again, turning his body to look at the source of the footsteps. Yeah, definitely 101 horror stupidity.
He peeks his eye open staring into, nothing. There’s nothing but the dark alleyway that faces him, he feels himself relax. It’s still very dark, he’s guessing most of the city’s lights went out too instead of just the power from in the alley. His friends were definitely going to laugh at him when he told him about this later.
He turns around, ready to make his way back on route. The bag of ramen had fallen to the floor at some point during his chase so he leans down to grab it from off the ground. A weird smell reaches his nostrils, pulling a scowl from his face.
The moment he looks up his heart sinks. It’s only for a split second that he sees the face, no, a mask of a person right in front of him. The person grabs onto him with immense strength and throws him into the wall.
Jisung lets a cry out in pain, using his arms to protect his head from injury, it’s a tip he’d learned in nature documentaries when bear attacks happened. The person began climbing onto him its nails sharp, piercing onto his arms. He lets out a yelp, trying to push them away but they won’t budge.
Since his hands are no use, he gathers all of his strength to kick them away, it works. The figure falls to the ground and stumbles for a second before regaining their position. It’s when he looks it in the eye that he realizes this isn’t a person. The way the creature moved was so inhumane, it had Jisung wondering if this was all just a dream.
He’s very quickly reminded that it isn’t, the creature climbs over him digging its nails into the flesh of his abdomen. He screams, feeling the warm blood begin to pool outside of his body when a hand goes to his mouth and forces him silent. The thing looks into his eyes and gives a wicked smile, digging itself into his neck.
Jisung feels a sharp pain almost like puncture wound, his body feels as if it was set on fire. A tear rolls down his cheek, his eyes closing from the pain.
This is it. I’m going to die.
He thinks to himself as his life flashes before his eyes. He thinks of his friends and how they’ll never get to play the next rumored Mortal Kombat, he thinks of his parents and how he wishes he went with them to go visit his aunt because then he wouldn’t be in this situation, but most importantly he thinks of you.
Your smile that always gave him butterflies, your laugh that he couldn’t help but reciprocate, and his feelings he’s had for you since the day Chenle invited him over and he ran into a six year old you who had gotten into your moms makeup.
He feels a content warmth all of a sudden, his body falling unconscious. His eyes slip closed, he’s too far out of it to notice the way the creature had left at the sound of someone yelling from the distance. The last thing he hears is the sound of a voice, before finally succumbing to sleep.
It’s been a week since Jisung was discharged from the hospital, his injuries somehow healing about ten times faster than expected. And although he wasn’t going to complain that he was finally back home, he couldn’t help but wonder how it is that none of his doctors seemed interested in the slightest in his abnormal recovery process.
These past days he found himself glued to the couch. His parents had called to check in on him about three days ago, he didn’t mention the whole almost dying thing. The last thing he wanted was his mom freaking out and driving recklessly to get back home.
He didn’t want any company right now. That’s exactly why he’d been ghost in his group chat and hadn’t shown up to work for the past few days. He was sure he would’ve been fired if his boss was anyone other than Renjun, but luckily the elder had a soft spot for him.
His job and social life weren’t the issue right now, the issue was that he was starving once again, or more like he never stopped. His stomach felt like it was going to burst for the past week, and every meal he’d tried to make would only end up in chunks down the toilet.
Now Jisung was no Gordon and he knew that, but you’d think eggs were digestible enough that it wouldn’t come back out of his throat. He was wrong. He hadn’t ate for the past days and he knew if he even had the energy to stand up and stare at the mirror he’d only see a ghostly version of himself.
His head begins pounding, his body used to the headaches and shivers he gets whenever the thought of hunger crosses his mind. He pulls his blanket closer to him, hoping this feeling won’t last longer than five minutes.
The sound of footsteps creep up, Jisung’s ear twitching at the sound before a loud banging noise comes from his door. He sighs, standing up with more effort than usual and opens the door.
Chenle shoves past him towards the couch, “You little fucker, we were supposed to go to the arcade three days ago and you didn’t even show up. Then when me and Xiaojun asked Renjun if he had seen you he says you’ve been absent from work for over a week now?”
Jisung stands there waiting for Chenle to finish his rant. It was no use trying to explain, not now anyway. His best friend was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to anything until he was done talking. He zones out but only for a second, smelling a very pungent iron smell from Chenle, he feels his throat close up gagging on instinct.
“Did you just fucking gag at me? Park Jisung I will end you,” He cuts himself off finally taking in the appearance of the man in front of him. “The fuck happened to you?”
After a very brief explanation, Chenle sits on the couch way too comfortably for Jisung’s liking. He wasn’t a fan of feet up on his couch. “So you’re saying you literally died and didn’t tell us a thing? Wow, wait til Renjun hears about this.”
“He won’t ask so there’s no point in saying anything, besides I’m okay now.” The lie feels funny coming out of his mouth, and with the way he’s known Chenle for over ten years, he knows Chenle can tell he’s lying.
“Are you an idiot or do you just take me for one? You’re obviously not okay Jisung, look at you.” He stands up heading towards the cabinets searching for the one filled with over the counter medicine.
“It’s not going to work, i’ve been taking all types of medication for the past days and nothing works.”
Chenle being the stubborn fucker he is, only gives up on his search once he realizes there are no more pill bottles in the cabinets.
“Well have you ate?”
Jisung’s stomach curls at the thought, the feeling of stomach acid rising up his throat. “I have, I just keep throwing everything up.”
“Well did you cook it?” Jisung nods his head, “Maybe that’s the problem.”
“I tried take out too, no point.”
“Well then you have to go to the doctor, i’m not sure how you’ve even survived this long without eating.”
“Sleep.”
“Yeah of course that’s how.” He rolls his eyes finding his way back to the couch. Silence fills the room which was an important moment that shouldn’t be taken for granted given Chenle was a talker.
A minute passes until Chenle’s eyes light up. Jisung feels a headache coming on, knowing the next words out of his friend’s mouth was either going to be stupid or annoying. “The sun is good for you, my mom always told me that It helps your mood when you’re sick.”
“Bullshit, you never go out.” Just as Chenle could read Jisung’s lies, it worked vice versa.
“Okay fine you got me there. I just thought maybe i’d surprise you with a special person who wants me to pick her up from the airport,” He looks to his watch, “soon.”
Jisung’s heart fluttered at the thought, there was no way .You weren’t supposed to be returning until Christmas break. “You’re lying.”
He shrugs standing up and walking towards the door, “Then don’t come, but if y/n asks i’m going to tell her that you didn’t care to tag along.”
If there’s one thing Zhong Chenle loved to do, it was lie. He’d argue it was only exaggerating the truth but Jisung knew better than that. That’s why now he finds himself pausing for a moment and falling into a trap.
You were Chenle’s little sister and Jisung was best friends with Chenle. That’s how it started at least until Chenle had became a closer friend and you slowly integrated into their friendship.
Somewhere along the line, Jisung thought of you as someone more than just Chenle’s little sister, more than just a close friend, and more than just puppy love. He’d never had the chance to do anything about it, you had moved away to study abroad a year and a half ago.
If he were being honest with himself, he wouldn’t have been able to confess anyway. The thought that you might not feel the same way was enough to scare him into silence. He’d admire you from afar if it meant you’d still be in his life.
Chenle doesn’t know but he also doesn’t not know about how he feels, and that’s why his stupid lie is enough to convince Jisung to get up off of his ass and go with him to pick you up.
“Fine, i’ll go.” Chenle smirks at him opening the door. “Don’t make that face it’s weird.”
His friend’s dolphin like laugh pierces his ears. “So cute.”
Jisung felt like his entire body was going to explode, not figuratively speaking but literally. Only this wasn’t because of some weird food combination Xiaojun stuffed down his throat during a hot pot, no this was serious. The sun was shinning way too bright, everything was way too loud, and he still couldn’t help the weird intense smell of iron, this time coming from everyone.
Chenle asked if he had been drinking, that it seemed like he had a hangover, to which he replied he wished it was. A hangover felt like paradise in comparison to the overwhelming pain Jisung was trying so hard to hide. He didn’t want to be a buzz kill and make you feel uncomfortable by his presence.
He felt bad enough that Chenle had mentioned to you that he went MIA and that’s part of the reason you booked a flight back home sooner. You were planning on visiting anyway, but still, he felt guilty knowing he caused you distress.
“She should be coming out soon,” Chenle says waiting by the luggage carrier, he glances over at Jisung. “Calm down already, you’re making me anxious.”
Jisung frowns, “I told you this wasn’t going to work, if anything I feel worse than before.”
Chenle shrugs, “Let’s see how long that lasts.” Before Jisung can respond the sound of a yell shakes him to his core, not particularly because of how loud it was, but because he could recognize that squeal from anywhere. He’s sure he’s memorized just about everything about you.
You run towards your brother jumping into his arms, Chenle feigning disgust but carrying you anyway. “Gross, get off of me you animal.”
You hop back onto the floor, slapping his arm playfully. “You are still just as bitchy as before. I’m telling mom that you called me that by the way.”
“Go for it, she’d agree with me anyway.”
“So full of yourself no wonder your head just gets bigger everytime I see you.” you gesture an explosion with your hands.
Jisung lets a laugh slip out, Chenle and you finding his eyes in the next second. You run over to Jisung in a millisecond, clinging to him like a bear. He smiles to himself wrapping his own arms against you tighter only letting go of you once he notices the questioning look Chenle gives him.
“Where have you been? Lele told me you went ghost and I was like Park Jisung? What better does he have to do that he can’t answer the phone you know?” Chenle chuckles at the accidental insult, you’re too busy rambling to tell him to knock it off though. “I was worried for you! So then I was like no I have got to go back sooner and make sure he’s okay.”
Your eyebrows furrow finally processing the state of him, his clothes are sleeping clothes full of wrinkles and complimentary to his under eye bags that make it seem like the clothes were just for show.
“Jiwi? What’s wrong?” His stomach flutters at the use of his old nickname. “You look so pale.” Your thumb traces his cheek. “Should we go to the doctor?”
His breath hitches at the contact. “That’s really not necessary.” He feels the nausea hit him once again this time stronger than it’s ever been along with a sudden lightheadedness making his vision go blurry.
“You’re not okay.” You step closer to him holding onto his arms. The feeling only gets worse. He smells a hint of sweetness coming from you, his stomach churns, only this time he realizes how hungry he really is.
He backs away from you, almost tripping over his own feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Chenle’s voice sounds muffled. It’s the last thing that he makes out before he loses consciousness.
Am I in Heaven?
Jisung thought as he opened his eyes to a bright white light. It took a minute for him to figure that he was far from there. He recognizes the hospital room pretty easily, he had just gotten out of it less than two weeks ago so it was still fresh in his brain.
He looked over to his right, seeing an empty fluid bag that was connected to a tube on his arm. He pulls the tube flinching, only to realize there wasn’t even a bit of pain from him ripping it off.
He sits up, looking around the empty hospital room stretching his arms forward and popping his fingers. It’s in that moment that there’s a subtle knock on the door revealing, a tall man wearing glasses standing. The man wears glasses, he has a white jacket on and his hand is carrying a– blood bag?
“Park Jisung, i’m glad to see you’re awake.” The man smiles.
Jisung’s face turns to one of concern, “How do you know my name?”
The man’s face mimics his own, “I’m your doctor.”
“Oh.” He replies embarrassed.
That didn’t explain what brought him here though, or where his friends had gone, or why the man had a blood bag in his hand like it was an accessory. He was going to ask another question until the man spoke again.
“My name is Kun, I’m glad you came here in time it was almost too late.”
Too late? For what? Jisung’s eyes widen, “Am I terminal?”
Kun sniggers before coughing seemingly to compose himself, “Let me explain.”
Jisung nods slowly so Kun continues, “You fainted. You may have not realized it yet, but you have completed your process and with the lack of blood running through you, your organs began to shut down. We hooked you to that blood drip earlier for the meantime, you have consumed about four pints which would explain why you’re fully conscious.”
The words feel like a game of scrabble to him, only furthering his confusion. “This should be your fifth and final bag and after that you should be free to go, but really you should make sure you’re consuming enough. I’m going to leave you with another card,”
He reaches into his front pocket and hands Jisung a small business card. “This is my friend Taeyong who should have blood supply for you, if you run out he can help you with that too.”
It’s at this point that Jisung is very lost, “I’m sorry what? Consumed? Organs failing? Blood Supply? What?”
Kun stares pitifully at him, “You weren’t aware? Jisung, you’re a full fledged Vampire.”
Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a ridiculous sentence. He can’t help the fit of laughter that escapes him. “Okay this is a prank right? They’re playing a prank on me for going all ghost, very funny Chenle you can come out now.”
Kun clears his throat, “I know it might seem strange but it’s true. You have to take this seriously, going so long without any blood ingested can end up with you–“
“I’m sorry, I just– this is insane. A vampire?” He laughs, “There’s no way.”
“You’ve been getting headaches right? Your sense of smell is heightened, you can hear better than you ever could before, you feel hunger but any food you’ve consumed wasn’t enough.”
Jisung gulps, there’s no way any of that meant anything, except it made more sense of things that weighed his mind for days. The way he could smell such a strong metal smell off of Chenle, the way he heard footsteps up the stairs before they even made it to his door, maybe this wasn’t a prank after all.
“You have to take care of yourself, Jisung. Going so long without food is deadly.” Jisung looks down at the paper in his hand. “Lee Taeyong, that’s his number. He should be able to explain more to you.”
“I don’t understand, I was normal just two weeks ago.”
Kun offers a compassionate smile, “It’s hard to make sense of it, but you will.” He offers the blood bag. “This is the last you need and then you should be fine.”
“Thank you.” He replies softly, accepting the bag and poking at it like it’s a dead bug.
“I’m only glad nothing worse happened to you, it was irresponsible of me to let you go the first time without speaking to you one on one.” He hands him a straw to poke through the bag.
“I don’t understand, have we met before?”
“You were my patient the day you were left out to die. I got caught up with other patients so I had you discharged hoping you could call the number I left behind to get answers.”
It takes Jisung five tries until he’s able to poke the straw through the blood bag. The smell hits him instantly, his fangs protracting as if he’s ready to attack. He follows his instincts telling him to drink. “What number?”
Kun nods his head towards the card. “That same one, I left it to one of the nurses to give to you once you were discharged.
Jisung pulls away from the straw covering his mouth in shock, “Oh that, I thought that was a card from those cult recruiters so I threw it out.”
The breath the elder lets out is between one of frustration and annoyance, “That’s okay, you got back here anyway.”
He takes another sip before remembering, “Oh, I came here with my friends. Did you send them off?”
“Oh yes, I believe I may have seen them heading towards the hospital cafeteria.”
Jisung nods. That seems about right for Chenle at least. “Very well, I have more patients to see. Once you’re done drinking feel free to leave.”
“Thank you again, sir.”
“Just Kun is fine,” He smiles, “I have a feeling we will definitely be seeing each other more often now.”
“Thank you, Kun.”
He lets out a shaky sigh once the room is left empty again. Never in Jisung’s life would he had ever predicted this to happen, or even that Vampires existed. It still felt like a joke but he knew better now. There was no reasonable explanation for why he had been able to survive that attack, or not survive.
Being a Vampire was still really confusing, did that mean he was dead? He’d been out in the sun today and he didn’t burn to death so that had to mean not all Vampires myths were true. Who was he kidding, he needed to reach out to whoever the fuck Kun’s friend was and fast.
He was so distracted by his own thoughts he failed to notice the door open. He looks up into your frightened eyes, he throws the blanket over himself to cover the blood hoping you didn’t notice it.
“I–“ You cut yourself off, “Was that– Were you drinking a blood pint?”
He shakes his head mumbling, “I wasn’t doing anything.”
‘Really Jisung is that the best you can come up with?’
“You literally were you still have red on your lips.” You say motioning your hand over your face.
He covers his mouth, “It’s cherry Jell-o.”
You lock the door stepping closer to him. He shifts himself so the blanket completely covers his lap where the blood pint lays. He wasn’t a good liar, especially not with you. You uncover his lap, gasping at the bag in front of you.
“Please I can explain,” He jumps up ready to explain. Your squeal cuts him off before he can speak another word.
“I knew it, they had to be real. You know I partially moved away cause I assumed Vampires would be more to the West but well was I wrong.” You face him, eyes sparkling. “I never thought they’d be hiding right under my nose.”
Jisung was lost, and not the kind of lost when he was seven and left behind at the zoo. He was the kind of lost where he felt ten pages behind the learning unit.
“Jisung.” You take a seat beside him, way too close for someone who just discovered Vampires existed. “How could you not have told me this?”
You stay quiet awaiting for his answer. “I didn’t know.”
Now you look lost so he tries to explain, “This is also a new thing, It kinda happened not too long ago. I found out just now, like two minutes ago when the doctor told me.”
“Your Doctor?” You speak slowly as if you were making sense of the words.
“He told me I could call him Kun. It turns out like two weeks ago when I got attacked I became this.” He flaps his hands up. “I’m not sure if I was supposed to share that information with anyone though.”
You’re silent for a solid minute, which is pretty good considering that when he found out he was only in denial. He takes in a breath, he would’ve taken you rejecting him over turning into a vampire if that meant you were scared of him now.
“I see, so you don’t understand any of this?”
He shakes his head, “Kun gave me this paper though, he said that this person will help me better understand and supply me with
 what I need.” He trails off.
You take the paper in hand, observing the number. “So then we have to get in touch with this guy.”
“Wait– we?”
“Hello Jisung, this is not french class. Yes, we.”
“There’s only two of us though?”
You pause, standing up from the hospital bed. “Lele, you’ve got to tell him Jiwi.”
The thought hits him like a bus, there’s no way he could ever tell Chenle. Not only was he scared about what his friend would think, but also how would he feel about him being close to you. Chenle didn’t like to admit it but he was a very protective older brother, one time a guy made fun of you in the third grade and he punched the guy.
He shakes his head, “No. I can’t, that’d change so much.”
“Nothing would change, you’re still the same Jwi he grew up with, you’re his best friend.” The more Jisung thinks about it the more he realizes that losing his best friend would automatically mean losing you too. He’d rather die than let any of those things happen.
He just couldn’t take the risk, what if Chenle hated him or like stabbed him with a cross or something. He wasn’t really sure how this Vampire thing worked but still. This was too scary to even imagine so it had to be a no.
“Jisung, I know how you are. You’re worried.” You grab onto his face with both of your hands. He recognizes how weird this position looks, him looking up to you as you tower over him. “You will be okay, Lele cares about you. If you keep this from him, once he finds out he would only be more upset.”
Jisung looks to the floor, “He won’t find out.”
You poke his cheek with his thumb to grab his attention once more, “You know you can’t keep a lie.”
He lets out a heavy sigh, you’re right. He liked to think you both were the only ones who could read him like a book, but he knew better.
“Fine.”
You squeal, “Great, i’ll go grab him now.”
He holds your arm gently yet tight enough to keep you from leaving. “After I meet with this guy. I have to better understand myself before just jumping out of the closet.”
You nod in understanding, “I understand, then let’s meet up with this guy tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sounds good–“ Jisung’s voice is cut off by the banging on the door.
Your eyes go wide remembering you had locked the door, the sound of your brother’s banging making you run straight to the door to unlock and open it.
“You force me to bring everything up on my own and lock the door? Have fun sleeping with Daegal tonight.” He says, placing the food on the table.
The room goes dead silent, Jisung avoiding any eye contact with his friend. Chenle looks at both of you suspiciously, “You guys weren’t doing weird shit right?”
You choke on your own spit, “Don’t be a creep Lele, this is a public place you know.”
He doesn’t look convinced, raising his eyebrow. “Then stop acting weird, I didn’t wait in line for like fifteen minutes waiting for Salty & Sweet Diner to make your sandwich for nothing.”
You reach into the bag, pulling your own meal out. “Thanks Lele, I love you.”
“Don’t be gross.” He tosses the bag at Jisung, “Eat up, wouldn’t want you collapsing in front of everyone again, it was embarrassing.”
“Thanks,” Jisung speaks slowly, not sure if this meal would be able to go down especially given how he’d already ate, or drank, moments before.
“Why is everyone so awkward?” Chenle bursts out, earning an awkward laugh from the two of you.
After calling the number Kun left behind, it took two tries until it actually connected. The person who had answered the phone left an address for Jisung to write down, which led him and y/n to where they stood now.
The house was enormous, and this was coming from someone who spent majority of his childhood in Chenle’s two story house. It was completely white, save for the deep rich wood color on the windows and the front door. Bushes surrounded the entryway, leading up to the entrance, flowers left in a garden to the left of the house.
“Wow,” You whispered, Jisung loved the way your eyes twinkled when you were admiring something. He was sure his own eyes did the same whenever he looked at you. “This is beautiful.”
He keeps his eyes on you, “It really is.” He thinks for a moment about how nice it would be to live in a house with you like this, but he’s snapped out of the dream quickly once the front door opens.
“Jisung right?” The voice comes from a figure hiding behind the door. “You can come in.”
Jisung heads into the house, you following behind him. You grip onto his arm and he’s not sure if it’s subconsciously but he can’t help but feel shy at the touch.
“Take a seat,” You both listen, taking a seat on the couch. “Okay I’ll start by introducing myself, I am Lee Taeyong. You can call me Tyong. Jisung, you brought a human?”
“I already know,” You respond abruptly his gaze finding your own. “I found out when he did.”
“Ah I see, you guys are together then?”
Jisung’s eyes feel like they popped out of his skull, he’s quick to dismiss the question, “No. Well she’s my friend and I trust her and if you mean literally then yes, we’re together right now but–“
Your strident voice cuts him off, “He gets it Jisung.”
Taeyong looks at the both of you like he has you both figured out, but he doesn’t press any further. “Well, in that case let me explain to you what this new form means.”
Jisung nods, ready to hear what this new life intels.
“First part, I think Kun told you, but you need to make sure you are consuming enough blood. That way your organs won’t deteriorate. You should be fine with about six pints within a week, do not try and go any further than that, it’s very unsafe.”
“This is what caused him to faint before right?” Your voice rings out. He finds it awfully adorable how much you want to learn about him, even if it’s not technically just about him.
“Precisely, that’s why you should also make sure he is drinking enough. You both have my number so be sure to call whenever you may need blood, I know fledglings find it difficult to drink straight from the source.“
“By straight from the source you mean–“
Taeyong nods towards you, “Yes, humans. It’s actually safer that way, for both Human and Vampires. As a vampire you won’t have to worry about never having blood and as a human, well I’ve heard the feeling is euphoric.”
Jisung bites his lip to keep from embarassing rambling, “Yeah I’m not sure I feel comfortable doing that.”
“That’s fine, there is another thing, erase those myths you hear. Garlic is fine, Crosses are fine, and feel free to walk in the sun. Although, keep in mind it does drain energy more, so avoid being in the sun when you’re low on blood.”
Realization hits Jisung in that moment, that must be the reason he had fainted at the airport. “I tried eating, I couldn’t. I kept vomiting everything.”
Taeyong hums for a moment before responding, “Could that have been because of the fact that you hadn’t fed?”
Jisung nods, “Yeah, I wasn’t drinking any blood for that time I just kept sleeping.”
“Wow,” You sound excited, “So basically you’re immortal right? Any cool super powers we should know about?”
Taeyong lets out a laugh, it eases Jisung’s anxiety about the assumingely elder man. He was scared being a Vampire would be ten times worse than it actually was. “Well there are its downsides, for one don’t expect to be able to walk into any house without an invite.”
You let out a laugh, Jisung can’t even take offense, given the situation is pretty hilarious. “So you’re saying jiwi needs to ask before coming over?”
“Before entering the premises, yes. It’s not too bad though considering you do have better hearing, eyesight, and quicker reflexes.”
Jisung grins, “You’re right, is there anything else?”
Taeyong wonders for a moment before continuing, “Don’t worry about dying, it’s practically impossible for a Vampire to die besides starving to death or
 wolf venom.”
“What?” You jump up from your seat, “There’s wolves too?”
“Ya ya ya,” Jisung pats the couch for you to sit down again, his words contradict the beaming smile he has watching you get so excited.
You take a seat, “I’m sorry this is just, this is so much like the books.” You lightly slap Jisung on the shoulder.
“Don’t get too cocky, the reason is because wolf blood is fatal to our kind. If it were to somehow be ingested, you would die.”
“I understand.”
“This is great, there’s no way you would ever come close to contact with a vampire, Jiwi this is amazing,” You pinch his cheek earning a look from Taeyong that you’re too distracted to notice. “Do you happen to have a phone? I need to call my brother to come pick us up.”
Jisung’s eyebrows raise, “I thought we were going to take the bus back?”
“Well It’s better to tell lele now, you know everything there is to know. Could I borrow your phone?”
“Feel free,” Taeyong replies, “It’s in the furthest room down the left.”
“Thank you, sir.” You run out quickly, skipping steps as you make your way to your destination.
Jisung smiles to himself, feeling shy now that you’re gone. “You like her, a lot.”
His eyes meet the elder, “I– We grew up together.”
“So then you love her?” He feels his face get warmer, lifting his hands to cover himself. “They say blood taste the sweetest from someone you love.”
“Oh I couldn’t do that, I would never put her in such a risk.”
“You couldn’t, Vampires naturally have strong resistance, even fledglings, such as yourself. There’s no way of turning someone without bringing them to the brink of death, and biting them then. If a vampire were to lose themselves and kill a human, it’d be purposefully.”
Jisung stays quiet, not really sure what to say.
“With that being said, Human and Vampire relationships aren’t easy. You must keep in mind that even though you don’t have to worry about hurting them physically, you can still do so emotionally.”
Taeyong’s voice comes out rough, as if he was speaking from experience. Jisung is curious and doesn’t want to press, but he also knows if you were to ask him later about it you’d be disappointed in his limited information.
Picturing your disappointment is enough to get him to inquire. “By emotionally you mean?”
“Immortality isn’t something everyone yearns for. It’s a blessing to some and a curse to others, I speak from experience.”
Jisung can see the pain in Taeyong’s eyes, so this time he refuses to ask further. He hates the awkward silence so he tries to find a new topic of discussion, “Wait, you mentioned how Vampires are very resilient, how is it that I was attacked and became the way I did?”
Taeyong ponders for a moment before replying, “Did you happen to make out the state of the Vampire?”
Jisung shakes his head, “I just remember my guts being split open and then the piercing fangs in my neck.”
“That’s strange, It could be something relating to the current rise in fledglings. There’s been many like yourself who have been attacked for the past week. Usually if a vampire loses all control, then there’d only be people left dead.”
“This doesn’t seem like a coincidence then.” Your voice rings out from beside them, “Isn’t it more purposeful if there’s more vampires turning than deaths?”
“It seems so, I’ll have to look further into it. For the meantime you shouldn’t worry, this isn’t a problem you should deal with.”
Jisung stands from his seat, “Thank you once again Taeyong, the help you and Kun have been means a lot.”
“It isn’t a problem, make sure you take care of yourself okay?”
“Lele is parked outside, it was nice meeting you Yongie.” You say with a smile.
He freezes for a half second, returning your smile shortly after. “You too, y/n.” Jisung gets whiplash from the shift, almost questioning his own memory of the situation.
You pull onto his arm dragging him outside of the home to meet with your brother. The door closes and soon after you speak up, “We have to find out what weird shit is going on.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. There’s obviously someone purposely turning innocent people into vampires, we need to find out why and who.” You turn your gaze to his, “Do you remember anything weird about your attacker?”
Jisung tries to remember as much as he can from the attack besides the feeling of bleeding out and the burn of the bite piercing his skin and turning him into what he is now. He thinks back as much as he can until it dawns on him.
“There was a man there. He had called out to the thing and it jumped off me in an instant. I thought he was just trying to save my life but if that were the case wouldn’t the vampire have attacked him after?”
“So this man, he must’ve had something to do with your attack. Jisung, this guy could be the person behind all of this,” You take a step closer to him, “Do you remember anything else?”
He tries to make out the face of the attacker, but the most he can imagine was the creepy face like mask on it. “The way it moved, it was crawling. It wasn’t normal, that thing wasn’t Vampire or human like at all.”
“These aren’t any regular fledglings then, this could mean something way more.”
Jisung looks into your face again, he always loved the way you looked when you were deep in thought. Your brows would furrow in the cutest way and your teeth would dig into your lips in concentration. Your very plush lips that Jisung couldn’t help but wonder how they would feel on his own.
A honk startles him, Chenle parked in front of the building waiting. The window rolls down, Chenle yelling out to the two of them, “Hurry up before I leave you both alone!”
“Sorry!” Jisung shouts out, his ears turning red.
Before he can run towards the car you squeal, shaking his shoulder, “This is so exciting! We have to tell lele about everything and get ready to solve this case!”
Jisung’s mouth goes dry, you walk away before he has a chance to respond. He already knows that there’s no way of stopping you once you’ve got your mind set on something. Realistically he could try, but you were as stubborn as a bull, and also you had him wrapped around your finger.
He lets out a sigh, Please don’t let this be anything serious He follows your lead towards the car.
A nuclear bomb was no match for the effect Zhong Chenle’s laugh had on Jisung’s ears. He had been laughing on and off for the last three minutes, and everytime Jisung tried to further explain, he’d only laugh more.
“Okay, okay i’m done,” Chenle says taking in a breath and wiping his tears, “so what was it you were really going to tell me.”
You made brief eye contact with Jisung before turning back to your brother, “Lele, he’s telling the truth.”
“A Vampire, really?” He stands from his seat at the table and walks towards the fridge for a drink, “You finally watched Dracula or?”
“No, he’s being serious.” You stood up marching towards your brother. “Didn’t you wonder how he suddenly got better at the hospital?”
He shrugs, “I’m guessing he had an IV drip?”
“Chenle.” Your tone is very serious, it’s enough to make your brother stop with the jokes and hear you out. “Are you going to keep laughing or actually listen to what we’re saying.”
“I’m laughing because this is stupid, newsflash y/n Vampires don’t exist and even if they did, what makes you think they’d turn Jisung into one of them.”
“Hey–“ Jisung interjects while Chenle adds, “No offense.”
“Okay whatever then you’re never going to listen, Jiwi show him.”
Jisung pauses for a second remaining seated in his chair. He points at himself in question, “Me?”
You take a deep sigh, “We’re trying to prove it to him aren’t we Jisung?”
“Right,” He stands up putting his hands into his pocket, “what should I do?”
The door bell goes off in the house, none of them, with the exception of Chenle, knew there was company coming over. Chenle begins to head towards the door, “If you guys are done being weird now, you can start taking the drinks out of the fridge.”
“Jisung, your fangs hurry up and take them out.”
“I don’t know how to do that on instinct?”
“Well try! You’re gonna let him just think you’re a liar?”
“I told you this wouldn’t work!” You groan before pricking your finger with a pin. “What are you doing?”
“Maybe if you smell blood they’ll come out on instinct.” You shrug, the tiniest drop of blood forms on your finger. It’s enough to make Jisung take two steps away from you, covering his mouth to hide the fangs that are forcing themselves out.
“Let me see!” You say, dropping the pin and walking towards Jisung. He backs away further hitting the wall behind him and shaking his head.
“Y/n, your blood is really overwhelming, you can step away now.”
“I just want to see them, this is our way to show Lele.”
Jisung stutters, barring his teeth and unwrapping his hand from around his mouth slowly. You gasp at the sight of his fangs, leaning your finger forward to touch them.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” Chenle’s voice is enough to make the two of you jump away from each other.
Xiaojun who stands behind Chenle drops the bag of food on the floor. Even the loud sound of a bottle breaking isn’t enough to distract from the awkward silence.
“Your teeth–“ Xiaojun’s voice comes out shrill, “You have fangs?”
Jisung bows his head shyly, “Surprise.”
Chenle begins “You’re a–“
“Vampire!” Xiaojun shouts, “I’ve read all about this on AOL!
“What are you talking about?” Renjun replies. Jisung hadn’t even noticed him within all of the chaos. Vampires aren’t real.”
Xiaojun shakes his head, “They are, that’s why there’s been so many attacks lately.”
“The news said it was Bear attacks.”
“Oh come on, in Melody? Bears don’t attack in cities, Renjun.” Xiaojun says.
Chenle cuts the both of them off, “Jisung those teeth,” He signals to his face, “they’re real?”
“Of course they’re real.” You say, stepping towards the counter to grab a rag and cover your wound. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.”
In that moment Jisung’s teeth retract on their own, going back to normal. “Guess i’ll have to explain everything now right?”
“So you’re saying, there’s some kind of vampire sire who is forming an army of mutant vampires?”
“That’s exactly it.” You reply earning an eye roll from Renjun.
“I believe you, like I mentioned there’s been so many attacks lately in the city. Something is happening and it’s unnatural.”
“That’s the same thing you said when you got that chain email about a ghost spirit that fell down a well.”
“That was one time, Chenle. This is not normal though, neither is the way Jisung had sharp teeth and suddenly he’s back to normal!”
“I don’t have any other way of proving it, but i’m not lying.” Jisung says to his best friend, “I know it seems unreal but we’re telling the truth. We have to do something to stop this, you know how many innocent people don’t end up like me and instead end up dead.”
Chenle thinks for a long moment before groaning, “I swear to god if you’re trying to get back at me for the wrong call prank I did on you last year, you will have your third trip to the hospital this year.”
Jisung smiles, happy his friend is fully trusting him even though the situation itself sounds straight out of a bad soap opera. Their cheers are cut short by Renjun.
“I for one think all of this is stupid. If what you guys are saying is true, what are we supposed to do about it? Jisung is the only Vampire here, we’re only human.”
“I have a plan,” Y/N speaks up, “So I think since most of the attacks have been happening within the night and in remote areas, it would be better for someone to walk alone.”
“You want one of us to act as bait?”
“Not one of you, me.” Chenle immediately sets his glass down, Jisung turning to meet your eyes.
“You can’t do that.” Both of them speak at the same time, Jisung continues, “I don’t want any of you putting yourself at risks for me. I can go.”
“That won’t work,” Xiaojun speaks, “you’re already a vampire so you won’t be any sort of bait.”
“I am going, there’s no question about it. You guys will just have to keep an eye out for me.”
“I’m not going to let you do that Y/N,” Chenle’s voice comes out low, “You’re my little sister, if this is a real maniac then don’t think for a goddamn second I’d ever let you go through with something this dangerous.”
“I’m not asking for permission,” You raise your voice, “I am going. Unless any of you would rather.”
It’s silent for a moment, Jisung wants to speak up but he knows better than to try. Chenle knew just as much also, you were more stubborn than he was.
“I think I know how we can keep in contact with you without getting too close,” Xiaojun comments, the rest of the group looking to his direction. “I got some Walkie-talkies, a lot of them. We can use those to make sure Y/N is okay.”
“Great, bring them four days from today.”
“Four Days?” Jisung asks, he’d thought this would at least be postponed til they could let Taeyong know.
“Might as well get this over with,” Renjun says, Chenle doesn’t look happy in the slightest so he offers a pat to his shoulder before continuing, “Calm down, there’s likely nothing happening at all just as you mentioned. We go out and try and find these guys, we don’t find shit, then we end up back here laughing the rest of our lives away.”
Chenle seems the furthest away from calm but gives in anyway, “Fine, but let’s discuss details later, I’m starving.”
October 26th
It was three in the morning by the time you guys had arrived beside some alleyway in the southern area of the city. Chenle’s car had stayed parked as you guys began discussing the plans for tonight.
“So i’ll be walking down the alleyway on the northern side, Chenle you stay here guarding the car, Jisung you need to make sure to stay free in case a fledgling pops up out of nowhere, Renjun you stay on the east side, Xiaojun you stay outside of the restaurant at the end of the alleyway.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Chenle says, mostly to you. You ignore him shifting focus on Xiaojun.
“You brought the Walkies right?”
“Of course I did.” He opens the bag on his shoulder, passing one walkie-talkie each to the entire group.
“How can you afford this many,” Renjun asks.
Xiaojun shrugs, “You can find anything on the web.”
Jisung grabs onto his walkie tightly, you turn to face him taking in the doubtful expression he has. “Jiwi, don’t worry i’ll be okay. You have faster reflexes and better hearing than any of us, so don’t be scared.”
He nods, it’s weird for him to be in this position now. Jisung wasn’t used to being the one who stood out, he actually preferred to be the one in the background most days. This time he had no choice, he played the most important role here and that was to keep you safe.
“Could we talk for a bit?” He feels Chenle’s hand on his shoulder pulling him to the side. He follows the elder walking off to the side where their conversation won’t be overheard.
“I know this whole vampire thing is new to you too, it’s new to all of us and i’m not trying to put more weight on your shoulders but–“ He takes in a deep breath. “Please protect my sister. She’s very capable of standing up for herself most of the time, hell she even scares me sometimes but this isn’t a regular person we’re dealing with according to you both.”
“I swear Chenle, I didn’t want her to do this in the first place but,”
“She has a mind of her own,” He sighs, “I’m well aware.”
“I won’t let anything happen to her, I know she’s your sister and you love and care about her a lot but she’s also very important to me too. I lo–“ He cuts himself off, “I care a lot about her.”
“You don’t have to hide it anymore Sung, well if you could consider making googly eyes at y/n anytime you’re around her ‘hiding’.”
Jisung covers his shy smile before responding, “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Well everyone did, except y/n of course, she’s denser than you’d think. I have no problem with you, you’re my best friend and I know what kind of person you are and how much you care about her, but I need you to promise that you will keep her safe tonight. If anything were to ever happen to her, I’d kill you. Literally.”
Jisung knew that as much as he loved you, Chenle was always going to be protective over you. It’s not a fact that anyone really dwells on, but for a large part of your upringing it was Chenle who was helping take care of you. Your parents were always out on business and yes there were nannys for you both growing up but still, nobody felt more of a responsibility for you than Chenle did even at the age of 6.
That’s why it means so much that he’s telling Jisung to watch over you. It means he trusts him enough to lift the weight off of his own shoulders, and make sure you’re happy and healthy, even outside of this insane situation and in a real relationship.
“I’d kill myself before letting something happen to her.” Jisung replies truthfully. He meant it, he’d never be able to forgive himself for not keeping you safe. The thought scares him, a life without you would be no life worth living.
Chenle nods, “Then make sure we all end up in one piece, including yourself, I’m not sure how my sister would feel going bowling with a dead man.”
“Well i’m halfway there.” His friend laughs, slapping his shoulder.
“Let’s get back to the rest.”
“Y/N, check check,” There’s no reply, “Hello? Y/N can you hear me?”
You pick up the walkie bringing it to your lips, “Xiaojun if you don’t shut up, this plan isn’t going to work.”
The voice comes through again this time in a whisper, “Sorry.”
As you walk the alleyway you realize two things. One, you have to take in a stray cat, there’s way too many roaming these streets and two, city sewage is disgusting. The smell is strong and disgusting, it’s like something died.
You roam the alleyway silently, no activity happening whatsoever. At this point it feels like you’ve been walking for a solid five minutes, even though you’ve only been there for less than a minute. It’s until you turn the corner that you hear a noise from behind you.
You beg to the angels that Jisung can hear or see everything going on, before prompting yourself to run. You start running, the footsteps behind you going into sync with your own.
You fight the urge to look back, hearing the footsteps only get closer. You hold your breath turning the corner, it feels like your lost for a moment, your brain not processing the route your on and only trying to get you to safety.
It’s when you take another right that you feel an arm hook onto your jacket, you rip it off of yourself, not in the mood to fight for your favorite jacket and become a late night snack for the fledgling.
You keep running forward, a light luminating at the end of the alley, only as you get closer you realize it’s a dead end.
‘Fuck.’
You reach into your pocket snatching the walkie out only a few feet away from the wall. “Code Black, Dead end.”
Renjun’s voice rings out, “Left or Right?”
“Right–“ The walkie in your hand is thrown out of the way, the fledgling grabbing onto your hand and throwing you against the wall with brute force.
You gasp once you look into its face, the fangs resemble that of a vampire but nothing else. Its skin reeks of rotten flesh, pieces of skin and bones protruding off of different parts of its body.
You hold in a gag as it pulls in close, it’s in that moment that you’re able to think fast and use the force of your elbow to push it off of you. You try running towards the walkie but it’s too fast, gripping onto your leg and pulling you backwards.
You use your leg to kick it away, the walkie is about a foot away, you crawl over and reach for it, successfully grabbing it. “Code Red! I repeat Code Re–“
Jisung appears in that moment, grabbing onto the fledgling and throwing it against the wall. You stare in shock, the adrenaline from the attack still running through your veins. Jisung is strong, but that fledgling puts in a good fight.
He throws the creature once again this time to the ground, baring his fangs in anger as he grips the throat of the fledgling. He’s so out of it, is intent is to kill, that’s until he hears your voice ring out.
“Jiwi!”
He turns to face you, taking note of the way your leg was bleeding. His grip loosens, the creature already unconscious as he makes his way towards you.
“What happened? Why are you bleeding?” His worried eyes meet your own.
“I think when it dragged me its claws pierced my leg, it’s okay though i’m fine.” You say out of breath.
“Y/N!” Chenle runs towards the both of you, Renjun by his side.
“Holy shit, this is real. All of this shit is real.” Renjuns eyes are wide in fear.
“Yeah and instead of helping my sister you froze.” Chenle says angrily.
“I–“ Renjun stutters out, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t believe my eyes.”
“Hey it’s okay, I’m fine. Jiwi got here just in time.” You say standing up with his help.
“I beg to fucking differ, you’re bleeding.” Chenle points at the blood on your leg.
“Hey it’s okay, it’s nothing just a little blood.” You pat your brother’s shoulder.
“Where is Xiaojun?” Renjun says suddenly, all of you going silent.
“This one was the only one, I didn’t spot any other creature nearby so he should be getting here soon.”
The tension is still in the air, Chenle turning towards Jisung. “You were almost too late, whatever happened to your promise?”
“I got here as fast as I could.”
“Bullshit.” He sticks his finger directly to Jisung’s chest.
“Guys–“ Renjun’s voice warns, though not fast enough.
“What promise? I’m okay, why are the two of you acting as if i’m dead.” You make out before sharp fangs meet your shoulder. You feel a strong surge of pain, your body feels like it’s been set ablaze. Within an instant you fall to your knees, Jisung turning around to pull the creature off of you.
He’s able to push it back, but this time it’s much more stronger, it throws him to the floor getting ready to plunge onto you again before Chenle gets in it’s way, a wooden plank in his hand. He uses the blank to block the creature from attacking, Renjun running to pick Jisung up from the floor.
The creature snaps the wood in half, causing Chenle to fall beside you, before it can attack once more, a noise sounds from behind it catching its attention.
“Hey!” Xiaojun yells out, the creature turns around. He sprays it in the eyes causing it to go blind, it screeches, Jisung attacks causing it to go unconscious again, this time making sure it’s out fully.
The group take deep breaths processing the scene. Your body feels better from the bite, though your brother refuses to leave your side.
“What the fuck was that?” Chenle says at the same time Jisung asks, “Pepper spray?”
Xiaojun shrugs, “Hey I told you, you could find anything on the web.”
Going to the hospital for the third time this month wasn’t something Jisung would’ve guessed in his monthly bingo card, he was mostly losing anyway, who would’ve thought becoming a vampire was more plausible than getting tickets to a Def Leppard tour.
Kun sits to the corner of the room in his office, using a computer to research whatever the heck is wrong with that thing they captured. Jisung turned his attention to the left, where you sat, Chenle guarding you like a dog.
He wanted to go to you, ask how you were feeling and if your leg was hurting, but he knew better than to interfere especially when Chenle was staring darts at him. He sighs trying to piece together what might have happened.
Thinking back on it, it was in a flash. He saw a man with a mask pass by the deeper end of an alleyway. He made the choice to follow after, realizing that might be the thing they were looking for. It was the second he got too close that the figure stared right into him.
A loud ringing noise sounded into his ear. He tried to keep staring, to make sure the figure wouldn’t disappear. But the closer he got the louder the sound was, and the closer he got the more it became obvious. This wasn’t a creature such as the one who attacked him before, this was a real life person, a Vampire.
He’d heard the sound of your screams and it was able to snap him out of his trance, the man disappeared in front of him and within the next second he went towards the sound of your voice and attacked the monster.
He wished you didn’t end up hurt in the process, it was his fault for becoming a vampire and even dragging any of you into this. It was a bite that Kun said would have no effect on you whatsoever, but he still couldn’t help but feel angry at himself for not handling everything better.
He took in a heavy breath before Kun spoke up calling the attention from all of you. “I have gotten into contact with a few friends of mine, they suggest that it’d be better for the fledgling to stay here, while they come to further analyze it.”
“So then what do we do in the meantime?” Your voice comes out smoothly.
“You are in no position to help, none of you are. I understand you guys want to help but this is a battle for us to do, Jisung shouldn’t have even been part of this.”
Before you’re able to argue, Jisung’s voice interrupts. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Kun sighs, getting a signal from his pager, “Look, I know you all want to help but it’s just not safe. Head back home and stay there, especially in the nighttime. That goes for you too, Jisung.”
The lot of you walk your way out of the hospital, waiting within your group for a signal to leave.
“Okay,” You speak, “I say we give it til tomorrow night then we go out again, who knows how many more of those creatures are out roaming. We could definitely try capturing as many as possible.”
“Y/N. You got hurt, we’re not going to do this anymore.” Chenle replies. The rest of the group staying quiet until Renjun speaks.
“I think it’s better we listen to what Kun said, this isn’t our battle to fight, we have no part in this. To try and get in between could end up with all of us dead, that’s like horror stupidity 101.”
Jisung can’t even laugh at the irony with the situation at hand.
“But it does involve us, our city and people are in danger and you want us to hold back?” You argue, “I’m not going to sit back and wait for more people to die or end up victims to those things.”
“You can’t save everyone, Y/N don’t you realize that?” Chenle shouts, “You could have been that exact person you’re talking about and you still want to risk it?”
“That didn’t happen though,” You reply, “Jisung got there just in time.”
“Jisung didn’t get there on time, if he did then you wouldn’t be standing here with that bite on your shoulder.”
Jisung flinches at the words, he knows that Chenle is still mad at him, and honestly he’s mad at himself too. It was a big risk for everyone to be there. None of you know anything about these creatures and it could’ve ended with everyone dead, and the fault would be on Jisung.
He let you take control when he knew that it was unsafe. He’s a vampire now, he isn’t like the rest of you. If he were to go alone he would be fine, a scratch, a bite, anything and he would be okay but that wasn’t the same for you guys.
“Chenle is right, I shouldn’t have even thought this would be okay. I put you all in danger tonight.”
“No, Jisung don’t say that,” You interject, “This was all my plan, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except for promising to keep you safe but of course he can’t do shit right can he?” Chenle spits out.
“Hey guys what the fuck.” Xiaojun tries intervening.
“You can’t put the blame on him, it was my idea on the first place.”
“And yet he knows better than to listen to your stupid ideas.”
Jisung can’t help but feel a rush of anger, not when Chenle is purposefully trying to dig into his skin. “Like you’re any better than me?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Guys seriously, cut it out.” Renjun whispers, “People are staring.”
“You know exactly what the fuck I mean. The reason Y/N had to leave to study abroad in the first place.” A flash of hurt passes through Chenle’s face but Jisung is too far deep to stop, “You’re just upset that you couldn’t protect her yourself because you were so in your own head you couldn’t tell when your sister needed you.”
“Fuck you Park Jisung, like you ever meant anything to anyone here. The only reason half of the people you know are friends with you is because of me. You had nobody then and I felt sorry for you, so if you think you’re better than me news fucking flash you aren’t.”
The group goes silent save for your voice, “What the fuck is wrong with the both of you? Seriously you’re going to speak over me? I don’t need any of your help I didn’t need it then or even now.”
Jisung looks at you, tears brewing and ready to fall over. “Jisung what would you know about why I studied abroad? You think some high school bullying was gonna drive me away that’s not the kind of person I am. And Chenle, Seriously? You know for a damn fact that Jisung is as important to us as we are to him.”
You take in a breath, tears finally spilling from your eyes. “I’m not going to deal with the two of you fighting anymore, this is not why I wanted to come back early.” You walk away leaving the rest of the group quiet.
Renjun pulls onto Jisung’s arm urging him to step away, “Let’s go for now, the both of you could use some time away to cool off.”
The day had been slower than it usually felt, it was almost time to clock out for the night and even though the past three days were busy work days, it still felt weird. Jisung was used to late night arcade trips with his friends but of course being so stubborn meant neither him or Chenle had reached out to the other.
As far as he knew, Xiaojun was probably with his friend right now, whenever they two had their little petty fights. This time was different though, it was the biggest and longest fight they’d ever had and they had been friends for practically a decade now.
It also hurt that in the past days he hadn’t heard from you, he knew you were upset and didn’t want to talk to him but would it kill you to reach out and just let him know you made it home safely? You walked out on your own, even with wild fledglings roaming the streets, that was a scary thought.
“You’ve been playing this song on a loop for the past twenty minutes.” Renjun groans.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize now I feel bad.”
Jisung stays quiet, sweeping the floor as Renjun sits at the counter reading some horror comic. Renjun sighs placing the comic down before calling after Jisung, “Come on let’s talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Sure there isn’t, there’s also no reason you’ve been playing Love Bites, your comfort song, for the past half an hour.”
“You said it was twenty minutes earlier.”
“And that doesn’t matter, tell me what’s going on.”
Jisung takes a seat beside Renjun, looking down as he speaks, “I just. Me and Chenle have never gone this long without speaking. I don’t even know why I said what I did, Chenle isn’t at fault for anything. I just couldn’t bite my tongue this time, not when he was blaming me.”
Renjun nods so he continues, “I was trying you know, when I found out I didn’t want to tell any of you about any of this. I was going to just disappear, hide out with Taeyong probably and live out my early vampire days there but y/n found out right after I did.”
It’s true, he’d even mentioned it to Taeyong once and the elder had said he would be okay with it. It’d make it easier to stay on track of his blood intake and plus Jisung wouldn’t have to be alone.
“Well i’m glad you didn’t just leave, It would be really hard trying to find a new part timer to take your place,” Renjun jokes. “But also, you should know Chenle was just being protective over y/n. I’m not saying he’s in the right, he didn’t have to keep pushing your buttons and i’m sure he’s thinking about that now.”
Jisung scoffs, “I doubt it.”
“Jisung.” His voice is stern, “Chenle does care about you, you’re his best friend. I’m not going to sit and defend either of you, I think the both of you were immature, and frankly I think Y/N deserves an apology most right now.”
He’d tried, only everytime he showed up to your house he got too scared that Chenle would answer the door, and he couldn’t exactly just sneak in, Vampire rules got in the way of that.
“Stop being a loser and talk to them. It’s what’s best for all of us, and yes I say yes. Xiaojun’s been calling nonstop everyday asking if i’ve made any progress with you.”
Jisung laughs, “Has he made any with Chenle?”
I don’t know why don’t you see for yourself.” The phone rings prompting Renjun to stand up from his seat.
Jisung sat for a moment, Renjun walking past him. The faint smell of Iron hit him again, his stomach twisting in hunger. He hadn’t had any blood for the past few days, Taeyong had said there was a delay in receiving any. A shortage apparently, and he’s willing to bet that’s because of the increasing number of fledglings flooding the streets.
“Ji, it’s Taeyong.”
Speak of the devil, Jisung gets up and takes the phone in his hand, “Hello?”
“Meet back at my place now and bring your friends.” The line goes silent. He furrows his brows, placing the phone back in its place.
“What’d he say?”
“We have to go, now.”
When Jisung had shown up to Taeyong’s house the last people he thought he’d see was there. Not that he wasn’t going to tell Chenle and Xiaojun to show up, he was pretty sure if Taeyong called him that meant he also called you. There had to be a reason as to how he got Jisung’s work number. The thought only pained him though, he wished you’d just call him.
He meets your eyes for a second before you look away, his heart breaks knowing you’re still angry at him. Chenle approaches you, and you only step away ignoring his presence. Jisung won’t lie, the petty part of him is really enjoying the fact that he’s not the only one on your bad side right now.
Taeyong enters the room garnering attention from the group, Kun on his side. “So, the results came in–“
“You are not the father?” Xiaojun whispers, earning confused looks from everyone else. “Sorry.”
Kun clears his throat, “It’s just as we thought these are not normal fledglings. It seems that a lot of these happen to be undead folks who were brought back and turned into Vampires.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Chenle asks.
“Like night of the living dead?” Renjun inquires.
“Precisely. We’re completely unsure as to how this is possible, but it seems there is a very strong sorcerer who is using necromancy to bring back the dead.”
“Sorcerer? Like a witch? There’s witches?” You say in pure disbelief.
“There are,” Taeyong speaks, “Though the magic form of Necromancy is forbidden, it appears that’s the case here.”
“A witch is turning them into vampires after bringing back zombies?” Jisung looks to Renjun, “I’m fully sober right?”
“I know it may seem hard to grasp but think of it this way. You know Vampires and Wolves exist, well so do Demons, Witches, Fae, and all sorts of things. This sorcerer, they aren’t a weak one, and they’re most likely working with a Vampire as well.”
Jisung recalls back to the night you’d been attacked. There was a man who had somehow been able to stop him, what if that were the sorcerer they were referring to?
“I can’t believe this, Vampires are one thing but for there to be more than just that?” Renjun starts.
“It’s true. I think I saw them, the sorcerer that is.”
The room is silent as Jisung reiterates the night in his memory, Chenle looking to the side with guilt in his eye.
“In that case then what you say is true. We need to put an end to this.” You speak up.
“How many undead fledglings have been reported?” Jisung looks to Kun and Taeyong.
“From what it seems,” Taeyong starts, “The increase of vampire attacks and vampire numbers have been about thirty and ten within this past month.”
“Ten? that doesn’t seem so bad.” Xiaojun says.
“Ten doesn’t seem like much until you add them to the amount of people who need blood supply. It’s hard for fledglings as they aren’t sure how to hunt without accidentally killing someone. They need around six pints of blood per week, and with more people choosing to stay inside then it makes it harder for us to supply said vampires with blood.”
“So you’re saying there’s a blood shortage for Vampires right now and it’s mostly caused by some guy who’s overpopulating them?” You reply.
“Precisely, this is a major problem, not to mention this isn’t any mistake. The rise of vampires would mean he could be building his own army.”
“A Zombie-Vampire hybrid army? For what purpose?”
Kun turns to Chenle, “To take over this city, and eventually maybe the world.”
Jisung didn’t want to panic but the thought was terrifying. Not only would this put a risk on all of his loved ones, but this wouldn’t work out for Vampires either. There’s only one way that this could all end, and that’d be with the entire world bursting into flames, not literally but also sort of literally. “There’d be no one left.”
Taeyong nods, “Which is why we must act fast, Kun and I are trying to track down the area we believe these creatures are spawning from.”
“Holy crap this is so much like a video game.” Xiaojun whispers under his breath.
“Wait,” Chenle’s voice speaks through everyone, “I think I might know for sure.”
The rest of the group look to him waiting his response, “When I was guarding the car I thought I saw the creature guy run along through the buildings before he was able to reach y/n. I don’t know how he didn’t notice me, but he just walked past. It looked as if he came from the upper northern buildings.”
“The abandoned Church.” Renjun adds, “That place has a deeper underground level, I wouldn’t be shocked to find out that happens to be the witches lair.”
“Well then it seems we know exactly where this place is, we can meet up there tonight, Three AM Halloween’s eve.”
The groups agrees, everyone beginning to grab their stuff and head out. Jisung notices you and begins to take a few steps towards your direction, he’s too late though. You sped off before he could even get a word in which he realizes was on purpose, you’re still mad at him.
He’s about to turn the other way when a hand taps on his shoulder. “We have to talk.” Chenle says, walking away in hopes Jisung was following him out, he was.
It’s silent as the two of them sit outside on some random bench that was right in Taeyong’s neighborhood. The sound of kids passing through on their bikes is the only sound before a peaceful quietness fills the air. Well, peaceful is an understatement, the air was thick with awkwardness.
Jisung thinks of what to say, he doesn’t want to keep this fight going but he also isn’t sure how to approach the conversation. He gives himself time to come up with a sentence, but to his surprise it’s Chenle who speaks first.
“I’m sorry.” Jisung blinks at him in shock, “I realize now how unfair I was acting, you only tried your best and you did well in protecting y/n. I was scared in the moment, it sounds like an excuse but it’s true. I love my family, but Y/N is my sister, she means the most to me and I realize now even as I can’t control her, you can’t either.“
Jisung sighs, “No a part of you was right, I promised you I wouldn’t let her get hurt and I couldn’t even keep that.”
Chenle shakes his head, “No, you did all that you could and in the end it was good enough, she’s here and she’s perfectly fine. She’s ignoring the two of us but besides that she’s normal.”
“Yeah she’d always be the one most angry at us whenever we would get into our fights.”
Chenle laughs, “Ugh don’t remind me. That brings me to my other apology, Jisung in case you didn’t know I’m a liar. You do mean a lot to me, how could you not? You are the closest friend i’ve ever had. All of what I said was only to hurt you, I’m not gonna lie, when you told me I was the one who couldn’t protect y/n a part of me was so angry. I wanted you to hurt the way your words hurt me, the way I was hurting me, so I said that but I never meant it.”
Jisung takes a deep breath, dammit he really was an easy crier. “I was only saying that to hurt you, it isn’t true in the slightest. There’s nobody who has watched over Y/N the way you have. She’s practically a child you raised since your parents weren’t always around. I’m sorry I ever said that because it only diminishes the hard work you put into helping raise y/n.”
“Don’t give me the credit, she’s raised herself perfectly with the time she’s been abroad. But thank you.”
“I hate arguing with you, I hate for you or y/n to be mad at me.”
“That’s your people pleaser speaking. I know you’re still upset cause Y/N hasn’t spoken to you, maybe you should talk to her?” Chenle Suggests.
“If I could I would, I don’t want to annoy her if she doesn’t even want to be around me right now though. I understand her anger, we shouldn’t have tried to make it seem as if she needed protection or a guard or anything, she’s a free spirit, it’s who you have known her as your whole life, and the person I fell in love with.”
Chenle pushes Jisung’s shoulder playfully, “You are so in love with her I don’t know how you ever thought you were being subtle. I think all she’s waiting for is for you to reach out. As for me, she’s only mad because I was too stubborn to want to talk to you.”
“Did you only come here to apologize so y/n would talk to you?” Jisung raises his eyebrow.
“No! I am really sorry, I was just being a stubborn asshole about it.”
“So your usual self.” Another hit to the shoulder, “I’ll talk to her and apologize fully.”
“You better. We have bigger fish to fry now, there’s a psycho witch on the loose as you know.” Chenle stands up from the bench. “I’ll leave you to your moment of silence if that’s what you want but before I go I want to let you know. There’s nobody else, besides me of course, that my sister has ever cared for in her entire life.”
“What does that mean?” Jisung says, Chenle already beginning to walk away.
“Nope, you talk to her and ask her what I mean! By the way, meet up at my house when you’re done, we have a crazy witch to catch!”
October 30th
It was only hours after they’d met up at Taeyong’s house, this time everyone stood in the living room of Chenle’s two story house. It was only an hour until Kun and Taeyong said they’d show up, the rest of the ‘Supernatural Hunters’, as Xiaojun had called them, were readying themselves.
Renjun had mentioned that maybe if everyone had their own pepper spray among other things, they’d be better able to protect themselves. So Xiaojun had searched the web and found packs of smoke bombs, protective goggles, and holy water, which Jisung had told him wouldn’t work.
He’d also found some costumes at the local department store he thought would be very fitting for tonight, which is why the group of four boys were currently dressed in beige. Jisung hadn’t seen y/n, not since earlier today or well yesterday, it’s got him feeling anxious. It’s hard for him to pay any attention, even now as Taeyong and Kun show up and begin to explain the plans, he isn’t focused.
“Okay then it’s settled, we’re going to break into this place and wreak havoc.” Xiaojun smiles smugly, this is a video game fantasy of his coming true.
“Not exactly, though given the dangers of being attacked by these monsters, I was able to secure these for those of you who aren’t able to defend yourselves.” Kun unwraps a fabric bag, sharp knives falling onto the table below.
Gasps are heard, Jisung’s friends reaching in to grab onto some, Jisung is about to grab one until Taeyong stops him. “Those aren’t ordinary, they have wolf’s venom imbedded in them. A touch of yours especially in your current state, could only end up making you weaker.”
Right, Jisung hadn’t had an ounce of blood in days, he really needed to find some and quickly. It was unsafe to go so long without any bags, Taeyong had asked if she was rationing his bags. He failed to mention that the bags he’d had ran out a long time ago.
“So these could kill Jisung?” Renjun says, his finger tracing the blade.
“More so temporarily disable him, unless you’re planning on stabbing him, in that case yes he would cease to exist.”
A chill runs down Jisung’s spine, he can already feel the effects of going so long without feeding. Before anyone can call over Jisung’s attention, the sound of footsteps enter the room.
You stood there eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to the group. “What are you guys supposed to be? Ghostbusters?” Kun masks a chuckle with his hand.
“What are you doing here?” Chenle pulls you to the side.
“I was invited here just as you guys were?” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on now, keep up.”
“I don’t think you should do this, what about your bite.”
“My bite is fine, I can move my leg and arm perfectly so there’s no problem here.”
“Y/N,” Jisung calls to you with his voice low, the first words he’s said to you in the past days, “can we talk, before you make your decision?”
You sigh, nodding your head. As much as you were still angry at him, he seemed like he had a lot to say. He also looked like shit, which you couldn’t tell if that was because of the fact you hadn’t spoken to him in almost a week.
He pulls you into the kitchen, which is a much bigger open space and reminds you of the last time you guys sat here together, the start of this entire fiasco.
He fidgets with his fingers refusing to meet your eye, “I want you to know I’m sorry. I never meant to make it seem like you couldn’t protect yourself or make your own decisions, I only want to keep you safe.”
“That’s it Jisung, I don’t need any of you keeping me safe. Not my brother and sure as hell not you.”
“I know but please, hear me out.” His eyes are wide with panic. You take in the dark under eyes he has along with the unnatural paleness, he looks tired. “The reason I want to keep you safe is because you mean so much more to me than just a friend or Chenle’s sister. You’re so sweet and understanding, I care about you so much that the last thing I could even think about before I turned into this thing was you.”
You’re at a loss of words so he continues, “I have loved you for ever y/n, since the day I met you I knew you would be the most important person to me for the rest of my life and I was scared i’d never be able to tell you that if something were to happen to me. And now i’m even more scared that something could happen to you.”
“I understand but nothing is going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure? I was sure I’d walk back home and eat some noodles and then I became this.” He gestures to himself, “It was scary enough seeing you get bitten, and maybe you’re okay but I’m not. I can’t have that happen again because I can’t lose you, not before I ever got to tell you how much I love you or after.”
“Ji, look at me.” You pull his attention onto you, grabbing onto the front of his shirt. “I’m going to be fine.”
“But what if you’re not,” His voice cracks.
“I am. I’m always going to be okay as long as i’m with you.” You wipe the tear from his face. He stares into your eyes, there’s something so soothing about the way you look at him, maybe that’s what Chenle was referring to earlier. The sparkle in your eyes was enough to convince Jisung that there was an entire galaxy within them, that’s why you were able to see the world in such a different light.
He can’t help but get lost in them, leaning into you. You take that moment to close the gap, meeting his lips with your own, soft and gentle. It’s a small kiss, but it has deadly effect, within the next minute Jisung is leaning into you for more.
Hunger evident in the way he kisses you the second time. His tongue slides against your bottom lip asking for entry, you accept, tasting everything sweet on his tongue. His teeth bite your lip, the taste of iron filling your mouth. You pull away from the kiss, immediately touching the small wound on your lip.
Jisung steps away from you, regret filling his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Hey it’s okay, it’s just a small bite it barely hurts at all.” You say with a smile hoping he isn’t too worried. He covers his face refusing to meet your eyes, “Jisung, are you okay?”
You grab onto his hands uncovering his face. He has beads of sweet dripping down his skin that’s hot to the touch, his fangs peaking out and his skin paler than before. “Jisung what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine you look like you’re about to pass out.” It registers in your head, “Have you fed?” He stays quiet refusing to look anywhere but to the floor.
“You have to feed Ji, you could die.”
“I have no blood, there’s been a shortage there’s nothing for me.”
“Well you have to drink, you’ll die.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Well I won’t.” You reply sternly, the idea comes to your mind quickly, you push your hair back revealing your neck. “Drink.”
“Y/N I can’t do that, I could end up hurting you.”
“You are hurting yourself and that hurts me, please just drink.”
The sharp sting is enough to make you hiss out in pain, but the feeling afterwards is pure bliss. You feel on cloud from the feeling of the blood flowing, all you can hear is the sound of Jisung’s breathing so close. You can feel the way his arms wrap around you, keeping you from falling at the lightheaded feeling.
It feels like you guys have been in this position forever, your eyes fluttering closed in comfort. It’s when you feel weaker that you finally call out for Jisung, “Ji, Is that enough?”
He mumbles too low for you to understand, he continues to drink out of you. You hands go to his head tugging at his hair, he lets out a groan pulling away. “You taste so good.”
You smile, trying to recollect your balance. “Feel better?”
“So much better.” He whispers into your ear, tickling you and making you giggle. “Come on, we have to go now.”
He whines, “Do we have to?”
“Yes, they’ve been waiting for long enough.” You say covering the bite on your neck and dragging him back to the group.
“It’s time. Keep those blades on you at all times, call for Jisung and I if you happen to get into close contact with the target,” Taeyong goes over the plan again, “Kun will stay out and watch, code Red if you’re in danger and need immediate assistance.”
“We got this.” You say enthusiastically.
“Speak for yourself, i’m shitting bricks right now.” Xiaojun holds onto his stomach.
“The faster we figure out who the fuck is behind this, the faster everything will go back to normal.” Renjun pats his back.
“Alright then, let’s get these bitches!” Chenle shouts.
The silence that filled the place was unexpected to say the least. Their group had been walking around the Church and there were no strange noises whatsoever. There was no sign of any creatures either, so they began to doubt if this was the right place.
“I think we got it wrong, nobody is in here.” Xiaojun speaks up.
“Where else would they be hiding? All of the attacks have been close to this place.” Chenle argues.
It’s faint, but behind the talking the group is doing Jisung hears footsteps. He tries to shut out the voices in front of him, beginning to listen out further. “There’s something.” Jisung says shushing the group.
“Do you hear anything?” You ask, trying to listen out also.
“I can’t hear shit.”
“Jisung’s right, it sounds like someone is here.” Taeyong says, sniffing out a horrible smell.
“God, what the fuck is that,” Xiaojun covers his nose, “Where the fuck is this even coming from?”
Your eyes go wide seeing the creature appear out of nowhere. “Right there!” You yell out, pointing out the group of fledglings running at your group at an ungodly speed.
The next few moments are full of bloodshed. Or whatever Vampire Zombie hybrids had, Jisung wasn’t too familiar with their anatomy. He didn’t have much time to think it over anyway, not when he was in the middle of fighting them off.
He successfully manages to knock one unconscious and looks to his friends who seem to be doing okay holding their own. There’s a few bodies of the hybrids on the floor, which should be a relieving fact, but not when he can sense that there’s more on the way.
Suddenly he feels his body fall to the ground. The hybrid climbing over him to get to Chenle who was busy fighting another kind. Jisung drags the figure back, clawing at it to keep it from getting away. It screeches at him, shoving him once again but this time he’s able to keep it held down.
A shout is heard from Taeyong across the room, “Jisung! Don’t let him get away!” Jisung looks up seeing the man from before slipping out through the back of the stairs.
Jisung runs along following after him, catching up to him fairly quickly. “You, why are you doing this?”
The man stops in his tracks, turning around to face Jisung straight on. He charges forward, knocking Jisung back with his strength. “Come on, fledgling. You charge in here and yet you stand so weak.”
Jisung stands up, “Who are you?”
“Wrong question.” The man charges forward once again, his fists landing blows all over his body. Jisung is able to catch his first and flip the man over, knocking him down.
“I asked you two already.” Jisung pulls forward trying to pull off the mask of the man under him. He feels his body fly back from the force of the person’s legs kicking him.
“I made you who you are.” He tells Jisung, his voice rich with cockiness, “You dare stand in front of me? You dare to question me. I made all of you and I can just as well erase you, I am the beginning and the end.
Jisung groans in annoyance, “Don’t speak in riddles man just tell me who you are.” He dodges another attack from the man.
Jisung is quick with his movements, but his opponent isn’t any different. As he continues to dodge the man’s efforts to attack him, he takes a split second to grab a hold of one of the wooden crosses on the wall.
The man charges forward again, this time Jisung is able to separate the two of them using the cross. The person pushes forward using all of his strength, for the first time in this fight Jisung finds himself struggling to fight back.
It’s when an explosion is heard that Jisung is able to use the distraction as a way to take control again. He pins his opponent down, searching into his pocket for the pepper spray. The man fights back, flipping him and Jisung over and wrapping his hands around Jisung’s throat.
The feeling of losing consciousness slowly creeps up on Jisung, searching his pocket desperately for the spray. His hands wrap around it, pulling it out of his pocket and spraying the man where his eyes are.
In the next second, Jisung is able to gain control and push him down, snatching the mask from off of his face. “You–“ He gasps, “No, I don’t know who you are?”
Silence fills the air, “Of course you wouldn’t, you don’t know anything.”
“Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this in the first place?”
“Because people like them don’t need to exist.” The man points to where the group continue to fight against the mob. “They used to be the ones killing us, we stayed innocent and yet so many of them couldn’t wait to call us Satan’s children.”
The ringing fills Jisung’s ears again, making it hard for him to move. “What?”
“And yet you stand here, bonding with humans, as if they aren’t the reason half of our population are dead.”
Jisung isn’t very sure what to say, he never thought comforting the enemy was going to be part of the plan. It’s until he hears a scream from you that he snaps out of his trance, at this point the enemy in front of him laughs.
“You going to try and save your friends now?”
He hesitates, looking to where you guys are gathered, Taeyong frozen in fear. HIs hesitation was long enough for the man to begin to step back, so Jisung pulls the knife you had given him earlier to stop him from getting away.
It stings to the touch, but according to Kun it wasn’t deadly to Jisung unless it penetrated the skin. He runs forward slashing the man in the stomach. Blood dripping from out of everywhere, literally. Who would’ve thought Wolf’s Venom would cause a Vampire to bleed out from their mouth and eyes.
It’s for a second time that he hears a shout, only this time it’s coming from Chenle. A sound Jisung had never heard before. He runs towards your group, the mob seemingly disappearing. Chenle is on the ground, holding onto you. You who happen to be on the floor with blood pooling below you.
“Anyone got a tampon?” You joke, the blood pouring out faster than you’d expected. Your brother stands before you with tears in his eyes threatening to spill. He holds your hand tightly, “Can you not make a joke when you’re not okay.”
“Can you not scold me when I’m dying?”
“You’re not dying.” He shouts.
Jisung is frozen in place, memories with you filling his mind. You can’t die, there’s no way you can die. He hadn’t even got to take you out on a first date.
Taeyong grabs onto you as you slowly begin to fall unconscious. “I’ll take her to Kun.”
“She’s going to be okay right?” Jisung asks the question as if he’s begging for the answer to be yes.
Taeyong frowns, “We will try.”
Chenle is in distress. Renjun tries to pull him back as he tries to follow along. “I can’t leave her.” He pleads, “She can’t leave me.”
Jisung stares at his friend, in all of their years of friendships he would’ve never expected to see this side of Chenle. He also never would’ve expected to see your dying self be taken away by a Vampire.
“Jisung, you promised to save her. Do it, keep your promise.” He flinches at the words. Chenle wants for him to turn you, that would be the only way. And for a moment, he debates it.
October 31st
It had been a day since they had been able to defeat the evil vampire man, which was a stupid way to call him but since Jisung hadn’t exactly known him what else would he say. He’d learned later that the man went by Jackson, he had been an old Vampire, even older than Kun, who had lost his own sister to humans.
Kun had said he’d been a good man, until it’d drove him crazy. His sister was the only family he had left, and with the way he found her bleeding out on the floor, it was enough to make him vow to destroy all of mankind.
Halloween was today, your favorite holiday. You hadn’t woken yet, which Kun said was normal due to the amount of blood you had lost. It was hardly a miracle you had survived. Given the bite you received from Jisung earlier that night you were able to transform. Now they could only wait to hear what you would say once you woke.
Renjun was in the corner coddling Chenle, who was very annoyed over the fact that he wouldn’t stop taunting him for his tears. Renjun was on only child, so he’d never understand.
“It’s okay lele, you can cry some more if you will feel better.” Renjun teased.
“Can you shut up?”
“I’m definitely telling y/n about how you were sobbing all over her!” Xiaojun laughs.
“You tell her anything and I’m going to kill you before you can even finish your sentence.”
“Are you going to cry over his dead body too?” Jisung adds, Chenle frowning at him, “Hey you’re not any different! You cried just as much as I did!”
“You know, I do want to mention I find it odd about how we never saw the Witch and the mob happened to disappear the second Jisung killed Jackson.” Renjun comments.
“I was searching on the web a bit,” Xiaojun starts, “I saw that this legend of the witch has been a thing for a long time. You guys remember the camp attacks from last year? That was around the same time as now.”
The Camp Attacks at Graze town, only an hour away, was all over the news last year. Jisung remembered hanging out at Chenle’s house and peeking at the news station that happened to be reporting on the scene.
Before he can say anything their names are called. Jisung running immediately into your room. He finds you sitting, a blood pint in your hands, just as you’d caught him before.
“Hello, Did you miss me?” You wink, he moves quickly to pull you in for a hug. The rest of the group making their way into the room.
“Super speed, really Jisung?” Renjun Complains.
“Lele!” You call out to him urging him to come closer. He steps forward, Jisung still wrapped around your side. “Come on!” You pull him in for a hug with your arm.
“Ouch.” He says, the strength you used being a little too strong.
“Sorry! I don’t know how Jisung did it so naturally, I keep accidentally overthinking and then using way more strength than necessary.”
“Well you know, i’m a special case.” Jisung smiles, you tsk at him. “You saying i’m not special?”
“Of course not, you’re special to me. Always.”
“Ah you sap!” You playfully hit his arm.
“Gross, can’t you guys not do that in public.” Xiaojun fake gags.
“Do what?” You ask innocently.
“Flirt.” Renjun replies.
You gasp, “Jiwi, are you flirting with me right now?”
He hums, “Now that I think about it, I guess that’s exactly what you could call it?”
Chenle groans, “Oh this is disgusting i’m going to have to deal with this everyday.”
The group laugh, Taeyong stepping in quietly. “If possible, could I have a word with y/n? Alone.”
The rest agree, leaving the room to them both. Jisung refuses to move, whining at the little pat y/n gives him, “Come in Jiwi, just for a second.”
“Actually he can stay,” Taeyong says, “I want to apologize y/n, this would’ve never happened if it weren’t for the fact that I froze mid battle and allowed for you to be left vulnerable. I just–“ He pauses, “I saw, the zombie creature and it looked just like. It looked just like my first love.”
Jisung thinks back to the first conversation they had, the mentions of dating a human. “The human you once loved?”
Taeyong nodded, “I will never forget the look in his face. He’s never wanted to turn, he never wanted an immortal life and there he was. Being forced into the life he never wanted, he was a puppet.”
“You don’t have to explain,” You spoke out, “I can’t imagine being in your position. What matters now is that we’re all okay, and I don’t blame you or anyone for anything.”
“Thank you.” Taeyong cries out, “I’ll let you guys be, i’ve got to visit someone.”
You nod, “Let me know when you’re back home, yeah?” He nods, stepping out of the room and wiping his tears.
“I’m sorry.” Jisung says, his head lowering.
“What for?”
“I realized just now that you never got to choose this life either. You’d turned even if you didn’t want to, all because of me.”
You laugh wholeheartedly, Jisung looking up into your eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just you’re too cute.”
“Whys this funny?” Jisung blushes.
“Because, I have always loved vampires. I’ve always wished they were real and when I found out you were one,” You took in a breath, “I’d been begging silently that you’d turn me one day.”
“Huh?” Jisung had never known this. And he valued himself on knowing everything about you. How is it that this could’ve slipped his mind?
“I love vampires, hadn’t lele ever told you before?”
The memory rings in his head, ‘She’s a fan of those sharp tooth creatures’
“Who?” Jisung had asked.
“Y/N. I said that already, have you been paying any attention?”
“So all of this time, you loved Vampires?” His eyes widen.
“How else do you think I was able to guess you became one so quickly?”
He’s genuinely appalled, “I watched Jaws for you.”
You laugh again, “Jaws? I’ve never even seen that film.”He covers his mouth, his ears becoming red at the realization. “Come on, you’re so cute I need to kiss you.”
“You lied to me!” He feigns hurt.
“Shut up would you?” You say before pulling him into a kiss. It feels warm and fuzzy and perfect. There’s no better outcome than this one, you have Jisung wrapping his arms around you, his fangs biting on your lip slightly, only making you deepen the kiss more.
A yell from Xiaojun is heard from the door along with scattered footsteps, “I’m traumatized!”
You pull away, biting your own lip to keep yourself from bursting out laughing. Jisung isn’t ready for the end though, so he pulls you in again, this time hoping none of you ever have to pull away.
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