#neighborhood vampire au

[deusvervewrites]

Aletheia x Neighborhood Vampire: So, Midoriya might have ran into a girl who got turned into a vampire and disowned over it during his stay on Aletheia. And said girl might have jumped after him into the return portal.

Call that a party member

[hereissomething]

>be peter

>walk outside for a smoke and see this

>turn back around and go directly to bed

[sketchy-galaxy]

Oh hey its Halloween let me tell yall about the 🕷️🦋 Vampire au

It was a dark and stormy night...

And in this AU the war is over! Meridian is saved from the attack in the Bay but still loses an arm and continues to work with GHOST. Starheart is also a part of GHOST and unfortunately for both of them they find out that Starscream and Croft are creating a blood-spark serum that is very much not complete. They are infected by their respective parallels, Starheart turns into a blood drinking vampire and Meridian craves energon!

So the two flee the scene and work together. Starheart hunts Cybertronians, Meridian uses his arachnimechs to hunt humans. They have 'heightened senses' so they smell blood/hear heart beats. But other than that, they're relatively normal.

This au is funnnn. Cause their relationship is GOOD, they genuinely are trying to work together as a team and it works! They're fighting with each other not against one another so they work with each other's weaknesses. Starheart is very much the brawn while Meridian is the brains of their operation.

Actually, speaking of which, their dynamic is very much two 'types' of vampires. Starheart is the Hunting Vampire, she goes out at night and stalks her victims before lunging. She's in the action. Meridian is the Stay-at-home Vampire. He doesn't really leave his lair and sends his thralls (the arachnimechs) out to do his bidding. Obviously they're very effective at what they do. The goal for these two is to take over GHOST, once they do Meridian would have access to energon and Starheart could hunt to her spark's content in Witwicky.

They win, obviously, and it's really up to the Maltos to stop them. But yeah, i love this au its so much fun to write and imagine these two in a positive light. I wouldn't say it's perfect, but I will say Meridian places a hand on Starheart's wing and she does Not flinch. So there is some trust there.

[melancholypancakes]

Welcome home Trapped Neighborhood AU belongs to @cloudysunflowr

In this Dark AU, Brienne struggles between Yvette and Annette's personalities who make her existence.

Two personalities, one full of rage, despair, fear, envy, apathy, disgust

And the other is full of love, hope, selflessness, empathy, kindness, and trust.

Brienne has Dissociative identity disorder or in short DID.

The two personalities are Yvette and Annette Moreau.

Two twin sisters from the 60s, souls with unfinished business.

In "The Tale of two sisters" both were brutally murdered unknown to the world and their parents.

The girl's souls were bound to a puppet named "Brienne Velvet" a vessel, their fusion.

Unfortunately, this brings Brienne to deal with a vengeful soul and spiritually kind soul.

But this is what makes Brienne, "Brienne" she is cocky, confident, and unique but she is also kind and loving.

Brienne isn't the same as OG Brienne due to being a fusion and defective.

This is NOT the Brienne, you know.

This is Brienne Moreau, different from Brienne Velvet.

A darker version of OG Brienne, tortured by two personalities with dark intentions...

I'll put it in this way, Annette is like Pink Diamond, and Yvette is like Rose Quartz from "Steven Universe.

Brienne pink collar eyeball is a reference version of "Rosario + Vampire"

The puppet Brienne Velvet being a fusion, a different person part from Yvette & Annette Moreau is a reference to Garnet from "Steven Universe".

It's like Garnet but a sister version, with their soul merging into a different person with both their qualities.

Brienne being a fusion is also a reference to Darkiplier but inside of the two souls being gone.

Yvette and Annette's souls are still in Brienne.

Wally and Home meet the fusion as Brienne Moreau much like from "Steven universe" like Rose quartz and pearl met garnet officially

Annette & Yvette talked to Brienne, only she could hear them until Yvette gave her the idea to turn her pearl into an eyeball.

The purpose is to talk to not only Brienne but to all the neighbors.

When the eyeball is blue, it is Yvette speaking, and when it's red, it's Annette.

When it is purple, it is Brienne while Yvette or Annette take control of her body.

Brienne's eyes are blue, and Yvette shows combat and her smarts.

When her eyes are red, Annette shows compassion, kindness, and manipulation.

When both eyes are blue and red, the sisters take over.

This is only for emergencies...

The sisters help Brienne in this world of choices on paths and make sure she stays alive.

Brienne fully believes she must save Wally from Home while many others and the sisters want to kill him.

Or the very least the neighbors want to leave.

Brienne has been titled "crazy" "nut job" and "The Mad Neighbor" due to her naive and " delusions".

Brieenne was never accepted by the neighborhood due to her unique aesthetic.

She convinced only Wally liked her, accepted her and her ONLY Best friend.

That wasn't the case, Julie joyful really enjoyed her company as well as poppy and Eddie.

Brienne and Y/n's relationship is vague, as Brienne means well to save the neighborhood.

By saving Wally, however, YOU and the neighbors don't believe Wally deserves mercy or is worth saving.

Y/n just wants to leave but can't help but have second thoughts.

Brienne knows Home has something to do with this and Wally was manipulated and brainwashed.

She tried to tell the neighbors but they won't help her and she begs Y/n to help her.

Y/n feels bad for her but can't tell if she is insane or just grieving...

Brienne and Y/n have a potential friendship or romantic relationship much like in the Evil Wally AU.

As for her pet, Nancy the black house spider went missing.

Brienne was so worried as were Yvette and Annette.

What they feel, Brienne feels much like their feelings for Julie and Y/n.

It was known in the show that Brienne had feelings for Julie joyful, as she was the one who accepted her.

A reference from "Killer Frequency" that brings a closure to Nancy "disappearance".

Brienne saves Julie from Wally only for her leg to be stuck under a wood.

She groaned in pain as she yelled at the neighbors to run.

Yvette and Annette tried to move the wood off but they weren't strong enough.

It ended to Brienne trying to cover her mouth as Y/n was on the walkie talkie.

"Brienne! Are you alright?!" Y/n yelled over.

"My...leg it's stuck. I don't what to do...he's looking for me." She whimpers

"Wait...oh no. He saw me, shit! Ugh!" Brienne grunts as she tries to move her leg.

It nearly brings her into tears as this is how she dies.

"Brienne, stay calm maybe" they tried to say but everything silent and they fear the worst.

"Brienne!" They yelled out, "he...he just pull the wood off and walked away." She whispered.

"W-what?" Y/n asked in confusion, "he put Nancy in my hair and left" she said as she was still in shock.

"Nancy...alive?" Y/n said as they heard Brienne get up and grabbed the walkie talkie.

She was running, "I'll meet you back at the base!" She said before ending the call.

{...}

Home wanted to get rid of Brienne as her personality would get in the way

Brienne wasn't acting her role, being the joyful gothic neighbor who doesn't question anything and is friends with everyone.

But Brienne seemed to be unliked, Wally and Brienne were friends but in the end, he kept shutting her out.

Brienne's only friend was Wally and she just wanted to know what did she do wrong.

What was wrong?

Why is so distant?

Angry, frustrated?

She was so worried, Annette. was worried while Yvette had a bad feeling making Brienne not only worried but frightened.

Not knowing what was to come...

Darkness came, the world was no longer light or bright....just dark.

Neighbors hiding from a monster.

Much like the others, Brienne hid but was worried where was Nancy?

Her pet spider was nowhere to be seen.

What if that monster ate her?!

Brienne wanted to cry, Nancy couldn't fight.

But then she covered her mouth as she heard Barnaby but she knew it wasn't him.

It's not HIM.

Lucky for her, the doors and windows were locked and curtains closed.

She couldn't sleep but who was the monster?

She wanted to look but Yvette told her not to.

It wasn't pretty and...she knew who it was. She knew it was the puppet they loved.

Brienne kept Yvette smart so she kept quiet throughout the night.

This went on for weeks, still, Brienne tried to reach out to Wally but the neighbors wouldn't let her.

As if they knew something and as time went on...she notice Eddie and Sally were missing.

Ever since the disappearance of the neighbors.

Brienne changed her wardrobe, she was wearing a unique outfit she designed herself and knife pocked on he red legs with sharp boots.

She had a pink collar with her pearl that Yvette turned eyeball.

Now, Yvette and Annette could talk through the eyeball.

It was Yvette's idea, Brienne needed to be prepared for anything and dressed for the situation.

One night, against Brienne's better judgment.

She went into the night against her voices, They begged and told her, through the eyeball for her to turn back.

The neighbors saw her leave the house not attempt to leave the neighborhood but to who the monster was.

The neighbors wanted to stop her but they knew.

They would get themselves killed too.

Brienne couldn't make out the figure until she squinted and saw...it.

Wally Darling...her best friend.

Brienne was horrified, betrayed, confused, and melancholy.

Yvette couldn't bare seeing this and Annette was horrified

She saw arms of her friends...body parts of those who she had meaningful connections with...

Why?

Why did he do this?

Wally would never do this...

Brienne had Yvette's smart and Annette's heart.

Deep down, she knew Wally didn't do this...he was brainwashed by his house.

Before Wally could grab her Annette and Yvette took over.

Her right eye was red while her left was blue and raised her axe in the air.

They raised it down on him, while missed him a blast came from the exe pushing him away from their body and they fled back into the neighborhood.

They ran into the house, locking the doors and windows.

They weren't taking any chances, they could hear Wally crawling towards the neighborhood looking for new parts.

Ss time passed...

Julie tried to convince her that it was Wally's fault for what happened to their friends.

She only cared for Brienne's safety and didn't want Brienne delusions to get in the way.

But...she knew Wally wasn't right in his head and he needed to be saved.

Or else Home was going to torture the neighborhood for eternity.

For Wally does not know he was killing his friends...

[navybrat817]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2

Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass​ and dividers by @firefly-graphics​. Check them out! ​

Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Universes

Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.

Winter and Fire  ��💙

Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier. 

War and Peace 🔥

Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.

Soldat and Sparrow  

Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.

Night and Day  🔥

Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?

Dark and Light

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Black and White

Moon and Sun

Past and Future

The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞

You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.

Harmonious  🔥

Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.

Hollow  🔥

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Husband and Wife  🔥💙

Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.

Honeymoon Suite 🔥

Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.

Home Again  🔥

Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.

Honesty and Lies

Honor and Obey

Hope, Faith and Love

Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)

Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.

Around Your Throat  🔥

Summary:  Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.

Lay Me Down  🔥💙

Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.

Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU

You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

A Plum a Day  🔥🛑

Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.

Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞

The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.

Give Me a Name

Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.

Almost Like Home

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)

Hold You Tight  🔥🛑💞

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon

One Shots and Imagines (over 1k) *Some fics may get additional parts

Run Like Hell  🔥🛑

Summary:  You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.

First and Last  🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙

Summary:  Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.

You’re My Obsession  🔥🛑💙

Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.

Best Man 🛑

Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.

Remind Me  🔥💙

Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Push and Pull  (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Prized Possession  🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)

Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.

A Debt to Pay  🔥💙💞 (Mob)

Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.

What Goes Around  🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)

Summary:  Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.

Send Me an Angel  🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)

Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.

Follow You Home (Stalker)

Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.

Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)

Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.

What Happens in Vegas  🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.

Within You  🔥🛑

Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.

Ficlets (under 1k)

Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky) 

Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.

Loyalty  🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)  

Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.

Collateral Damage  🔥🛑

Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.

Long Night

Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.

A Hero’s Reward  🔥 🛑

Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.

100 Word Drabbles

Secret Admirer Secret Admirer - Part 2 Secret Admirer - Part 3 Secret Admirer - Part 4 Forced Bond 🔥🛑 Last Call  🔥🛑 His Sparrow  🔥🛑 Stalked

[kithtaehyung]

u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

—

—

“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 

“Barbie was great and you know it.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 

“I got this.” 

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 

It’s magical. 

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 

Ugh. 

At least he’s carrying everything. 

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 

“The lights are so nice, though.” 

“Uh huh.” 

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?” 

“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 

“Yoongi! You, too?” 

Huh? Him, too? 

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh. 

Fucking.

Hell. 

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 

How the fuck are you supposed to react! 

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 

“Why?” 

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 

“And you dressed basic for what?” 

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 

“Won’t help you, doll.” 

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 

Shit, you can’t do this. 

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 

You [10:02pm]: what🥺 

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 

You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 

This is bad. 

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 

Well. 

You [10:10pm]: 😐 

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 

“I will once you stop sexting.” 

“We are not!” 

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 

“A model.” 

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 

“Yup.” 

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 

Wait. 

Have you ever been that bold? 

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 

And rude. 

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 

Nope. 

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 

“You know what’s up.” 

“Dom!” 

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 

What? 

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 

Fuck, what if his hand is better! 

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 

And outside of it. 

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 

Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 

This is agonizing. 

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 

Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 

He’s not like that anymore. 

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together. 

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 

“Yeah!” 

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 

“Meow.” 

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 

“Yes, huh!” 

“No!” 

“Look! I have ears!” 

“No! You sound like a human!” 

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 

But what you do know? 

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 

There’s one other thing you know for sure. 

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 

“I am!” 

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 

“It does—!” 

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again. 

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 

“Hey!” 

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 

Still a goddamn menace. 

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 

“I am.” 

“So do something!” 

“Am I holding a basketball?” 

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 

“Fine.” 

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” 

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 

“Whose side are you on!” 

“You got something to say?” 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 

“No, I’ll make it.” 

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 

“The haunted house?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 

Huh. 

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away. 

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 

Because he’s watching that dude leave. 

Looking pissed. 

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 

Right?

…This is bold as fuck. 

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 

Yoongi is actually furious.  

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 

That’s probably best for everyone involved. 

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 

“Okay.” 

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 

Did you feel jealous? Upset? 

To your pleasant surprise, not really. 

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 

“You good to go home with your friends?” 

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 

“The fuck? On Halloween?” 

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“K.”  

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 

Maybe you should have left, too. 

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 

This is it. 

This is why you stayed. 

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever. 

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 

“Come here.” 

“You sure?” 

He hesitates. 

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 

However. 

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 

“Yoongi…?” 

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.” 

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.” 

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Please what.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart.��A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned. 

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 

“This wouldn’t get old?” 

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 

“Yoongi, what—” 

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 

“We don’t have to, doll.” 

And if you’re honest… 

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.” 

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 

“Not telling.” 

Of course. “You suck.” 

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 

“No, but—fuck.” 

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 

“God, you’re so perfect.” 

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 

Oh. 

You know why he’s holding you so hard. 

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 

So you vow to make that reality. 

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 

So fucking unfair. 

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 

And you recognize both of them. 

“—like you said, right?” 

“I know, but…” 

It’s Tae. 

And Jimin. 

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 

“You really think so?” 

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  

What the fuck is he doing! 

This man is going to be the end of you. 

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 

“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 

“Most of it was your idea.” 

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 

“You just sat on it.” 

“I didn’t sit on that side.” 

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 

Adrenaline still at its peak. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 

“Do you want to?” 

You pause. 

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 

But if you stay… 

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.” 

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 

Holy fuck, what? 

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” 

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 

Fuck. 

Do you really go for it? 

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 

“So fucking wet.” 

Fuck. 

“Gonna take this dick so well.” 

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 

Well, you think he’s on the same page. 

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 

You feel bad. 

And it feels fantastic. 

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.” 

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer. 

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do. 

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 

Fuck! 

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.” 

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 

Because you want this. He’s earned this. 

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 

Yoongi is fighting for his life. 

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something. 

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death. 

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 

It’s definitely with Yoongi. 

Right now, you know your home is with him. 

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed. 

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end :)

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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[jaeyunluvbot]

a forest

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 vampire au, haechan x reader, lee donghyuck x reader, vampire!haechan x human!reader

word count 𝟅𝟈 19.9k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You didn’t think you’d ever end up back here.

The worn "Welcome to Evergreen" sign on the edge of town had greeted you as you drove into your hometown for the first time in years. As you lugged another box up the narrow staircase of your parents’ house, the familiar creak of the third step reminded you just how little this place had changed.

Your room was the same, too. The soft pink walls you’d painted in middle school were still covered with faded posters of bands you barely remembered liking. The bed was smaller than you remembered, and the air smelled faintly of something stale and pine-scented cleaner.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” your mom called from downstairs. Her voice was teasing, but it carried a hint of relief, like she was secretly glad to have you back under her roof.

You dropped the box on the floor with a dull thud and sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you back anyways,” she said, though her tone suggested she didn’t entirely believe you. She backed out of your room, sensing your bad mood, and closed the door behind her.

You sat on the edge of your bed, surveying the unpacked boxes that were currently making their home on your bedroom floor. Coming back after school wasn’t part of the plan. You’d pictured yourself thriving in a big city, with a fancy adult job and a bustling social life. Instead, you were here, in a town so small you could drive from one end to the other in ten minutes, working as a nurse practitioner at the local hospital while you figured out your next move.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. Your dad stepped inside, holding a tray with a glass of iced tea and a sandwich. “Thought you could use a break,” he said, setting it down on your old desk.

“Thanks,” you murmured, picking up the glass.

He hesitated by the door, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. “You know, it’s not so boring here. Things have been... interesting lately.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

“Just... new faces in town,” he said vaguely. “You’ll see.”

Before you could press him for details, he gave you a small smile and disappeared down the hall.

You sighed again, staring out the window. The late afternoon sun bathed the neighborhood in golden light, but instead of feeling comforting, it only made you feel restless. Your dad’s words lingered in your mind.

New faces? In Evergreen? You didn’t need much to know that didn’t happen often.

Still, you brushed it off and grabbed the sandwich, forcing yourself to eat. Whatever “interesting” meant, it wasn’t your problem. Not yet, anyway.

You spent the rest of the afternoon trying to cram all your newly acquired belongings into your already cramped bedroom, you’d have to talk to your parents about moving some of your old stuff up to the attic, but for now, you’d have to make do.

The next morning, you decided to head into town. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice—your mom had politely hinted that the fridge was running low, and since you were “new in town,” the errand fell on you. You had scoffed at this, sure that the town hadn’t changed that much in the time you’d been gone, but agreed to go anyway, thinking it would be nice to get out of the house.

The main street looked the same as it always had, with its little shops and small cafes that seemed perpetually frozen in time. The little grocery store was exactly as you remembered: narrow aisles, dim lighting, and the faint scent of lemons and floor cleaner.

You pushed a cart lazily through the store, tossing in the essentials—milk, bread, a few fresh vegetables. It wasn’t exciting, but it was familiar, and for a moment, you felt yourself relax.

That was, until you saw them.

At first, you didn’t realize why they caught your attention. They were standing by the refrigerated section, talking quietly amongst themselves. Six guys, all around your age, dressed more stylishly than anyone in Evergreen ever bothered to be.

One of them leaned casually against the freezer door, his bleach-blond hair practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. Another was crouched down, peering at something on the bottom shelf, while the rest stood nearby, their conversation punctuated by soft laughter.

They didn’t look like they belonged here.

You slowed your cart, trying not to be obvious as you stared. They were all... ridiculously good-looking, in a way that made your brain momentarily short-circuit. It wasn’t just their features—it was the way they carried themselves, confident and magnetic. Like they knew they stood out but didn’t care.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Giselle standing behind the counter, a teasing grin on her face. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she wore the store’s signature green apron, slightly crumpled as if she’d tugged it on in a rush.

“Giselle!” you exclaimed, your mood instantly lifting.

She came around the counter and pulled you into a quick hug. “It’s been way too long! What’s it been, like four years? You didn’t even come home for Christmas last year, traitor.”

“College, work, life,” you said with a shrug, though guilt tugged at you. “I know. I suck.”

“Yeah, you do,” she said, but her grin softened. “I missed you, though.”

“I missed you too.”

The two of you chatted for a while, catching up as she rang up a few customers. Giselle hadn’t left town after high school, choosing to attend the community college instead. She was still figuring out what she wanted to do with her life, but she seemed happy enough for now.

“So,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter once the store emptied out again. “How’s it feel being back?”

“Honestly? Weird,” you admitted

. “I didn’t think I’d end up here again. But here I am.”

She nodded knowingly. “It’s not so bad anymore, a little more lively. And hey, at least you’ve got me to keep you sane.”

You laughed. “True.”

Giselle straightened up suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she looked past you. “Speaking of weird...”

You turned to see a group of six guys walking into the store. They didn’t look like they belonged in Evergreen at all—stylish clothes, perfectly tousled hair, and an aura that practically screamed big city.

They moved through the aisles in a loose cluster, talking quietly amongst themselves. One of them, a blond with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, caught your eye briefly before looking away.

“Who are they?” you asked Giselle under your breath.

“They moved here a few months ago,” she said, lowering her voice as well. “Renting that creepy old house on Maple Street. No one really knows much about them, though.”

“They’re... not from around here, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she echoed, her tone amused. “I mean, look at them. What are they even doing here?”

As if on cue, one of them—tall, dark-haired, and absurdly good-looking—glanced in your direction. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and you quickly turned back to Giselle, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“They don’t even shop like normal people,” Giselle added with a smirk. “Last week, one of them came in and bought like, ten cartons of eggs and nothing else. Who does that?”

You stifled a laugh, though your curiosity about the group only deepened.

“Anyway,” Giselle said, straightening up as one of the guys approached the counter. “Better get your shopping done before they buy out the whole store.”

You nod and turn away from the counter, pushing your cart toward the produce section. But even as you tried to focus on picking out the best of the minimal options, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about them was... off.

Back home, the afternoon sun filtered through the kitchen windows as you unpacked your haul, having snuck in a few of your favorite snacks, assuming your parents probably lived on old people food without you. The rhythmic sound of your mom chopping vegetables for dinner mixed with the low hum of the news playing in the background.

“Did you get everything we needed?” your mom asked, glancing up briefly.

“Yep, even remembered the oat milk you like,” you said, setting the carton into the fridge.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice having you back, even if I know you’re probably itching to leave again.”

You smiled faintly, but your thoughts were elsewhere. The image of the group from the grocery store lingered in your mind—sharp features, cool demeanor, borderline inhuman beauty that almost made you uncomfortable.

“Hey, Mom,” you started, leaning against the counter. “Do you know anything about those guys who moved into the old house on Maple Street?”

Your mom paused mid-chop, pursing her lips slightly. “Oh, them. They’re quite the talk of the town, aren’t they?”

“I guess? I saw them at the store earlier. They definitely don’t seem like locals.”

“They’re not,” she confirmed. “Your dad and I talked about them when they first moved in. Apparently, they came from the city. No one really knows why they picked Evergreen, of all places.”

“Hmm,” you said noncommittally, though your curiosity only grew. “They don’t seem that bad though…” You say carefully, probing your mom for answers.

Your mom looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “They’re strangers in a small town. That alone makes people suspicious. And then there’s the fact that they’ve been keeping to themselves, never really talking to anyone. That’s not normal, Y/N. People who move to places like this usually want to blend in. Not act like they’re hiding something.”

You frowned, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “But they haven’t done anything wrong, right?”

“Not yet,” she replied, her voice curt. “But you know how this town is. We’ve seen it before. People move here with secrets, and the next thing you know, something bad happens.”

You let that sink in as your mom continued preparing dinner. Just then, your dad walked in, tossing his briefcase on the floor of the entryway as he removed his coat. He worked as the town’s lawyer, the only lawyer in Evergreen. He was the one people came to when they needed advice or representation, and with that, he got to hear a lot of the gossip that ran through the town.

“What are we talking about?” he asked, looking between you and your mom.

“Those new guys,” your mom said, her voice pensive. “Y/N saw them at the store. She was asking about them.”

Your dad sighed, taking a seat at the table. “Yeah, I’ve heard the gossip. They paid for the house in cash, a whole year upfront. Weird, right?”

“Seriously? That’s a little... suspicious, don’t you think?” you said, surprised at the amount of concern in your voice.

“They don’t talk to anyone,” your dad continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “They don’t seem to have any real connections in town, and nobody knows where they came from. That’s not normal. I’ve had some clients asking about them, too—people want to know who they really are. And I don’t like it when people start acting like this in a town like ours.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. Your dad wasn’t the type to get involved in small-town rumors, but when it came to newcomers—especially ones that paid cash for a house without a word about their past—he was taking note.

“Do you think they’re dangerous?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He met your gaze with a serious expression. “I don’t know. But something doesn’t add up. People like that don’t just show up in quiet places like this without a reason.”

You felt your stomach turn, a mixture of unease and curiosity gnawing at you. You hadn’t expected your parents to be so wary, but it made sense, considering your dad’s profession. He knew who was who in town, and he’d probably heard more than most.

“I don’t want you getting involved with them, okay?” Your mom’s voice brought you back to the present. “We don’t need more trouble around here.”

You nodded, swallowing the unease that had settled in your chest. “Yeah, of course.”

As you helped your mom set the table, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about those new arrivals. You had no idea what they were hiding, but you were starting to get the sense that your parents’ suspicions weren’t without reason.

As you slip into bed that night, the boys’ faces flash through your mind, each one the picture of beauty. All strikingly different looking, but with the same harsh look on their faces. They continued to haunt you until you fell asleep, alarm set for early the next morning, your first official day of work.

You woke up to the sound of the aforementioned alarm blaring in your ear, the sunlight barely streaming through the curtains as the sun was rising. You rubbed your eyes, taking in the familiar comfort of being back in your childhood room. It was strange, yet reassuring.

You made a quick breakfast, pulling on your scrubs, and heading out the door, feeling the weight of the day ahead. The thought of your first shift at the Evergreen Community Hospital made you both nervous and excited. The town was small, the hospital even smaller, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of cases you’d deal with. 

The drive to work was quick, your beat up car easily navigating the familiar roads that wound through the outskirts of Evergreen, lined with quaint houses and large swaths of farmland. The hospital sat at the edge of town, easily visible from the main road. It was nothing like the big hospitals you had imagined working at, but there was something reassuring about the comfort of small-town life, even if it was starting to feel a little stifling.

As you entered the hospital, you were greeted by the familiar faces of the nurses and doctors. Everyone seemed busy, but they offered you friendly smiles as you walked in, and you immediately fell into the easy routine of the hospital’s quiet rhythm. It was a far cry from your hectic days interning in a hospital in the city, close to your school.

After a brief orientation and introductions to your coworkers, you found yourself in the emergency room, helping patients with all sorts of complaints—mostly minor cuts, sprains, and routine checkups. But as the hours passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

It started with a patient—a middle-aged man who had come in with complaints of aching muscles and lightheadedness. As you examined him, you noticed surefire signs of blood loss, clammy skin, excessive sweating, and shortness of breath.

Frowning, you remove your hands from his body, turning to make note of his symptoms. When you finish charting his information, you turn back around to face the man. 

“Have you had any major incidents lately, or experienced significant blood loss?”

The man frowns, “Not that I know of, I think I’d notice if I was bleeding out.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips and glancing back over to the computer, “Well, whatever happened, you’re exhibiting symptoms of blood loss, I’d like to run a few more tests and have a doctor check you out.”

The man groans and asks how much longer he’ll be here, with you offering a small bit of comfort before the doctor enters the room.

The next few patients were similar. Blood loss beyond what should’ve been normal, cuts that healed unusually fast, and complaints that didn’t quite add up. It was unsettling, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. The night shift was getting busier, and there were patients waiting to be seen.

Around late evening, as you were taking a break in the break room, you found yourself scrolling through your phone. You had decided to check in with Giselle, who had been texting you all day. She had been asking how your first shift was going and if you had run into any “interesting people” at work. You smirked as you replied, telling her about the strange blood cases you had been seeing.

Just as you put your phone down, the hospital doors opened with a soft chime, and a group of people entered. You glanced up and immediately froze.

It was the strange group of men from the store. But this time, there was one more.

He didn’t stand out at first. At least not in the way you expected. He wasn’t as tall as the others, nor as imposing, but something about him made you pause. His hair was tousled, just the right amount of messy, like he’d tried to look casual but still came out effortlessly cool. His eyes—dark, yet somehow shimmering—caught yours the moment he walked through the door, and there was an unmistakable familiarity to the way he looked at you.

The moment your gazes locked, you felt your breath catch. He didn’t smile, but there was something in the way he stood, in the way he held himself—like he knew exactly what he was doing. The magnetic pull of his presence was almost suffocating. You couldn’t look away, and that unsettled you more than you’d care to admit.

He was different. While the other guys seemed to carry an almost intimidating aura, this one… he wasn’t threatening, but you felt oddly compelled. And it wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was the way he seemed to slip into your mind, uninvited, like he had always been there. It was as though the moment he entered the room, the space had shifted.

You tried to focus, trying to ignore the way your pulse seemed to quicken when he casually glanced at you again, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The other members of the group, noticing the attention he was getting from you, didn’t seem fazed. But you could’ve sworn there was a flicker of amusement in their eyes.

You quickly looked away, pulling yourself together. It was just one of those things, you told yourself. He was attractive, sure, but that was it. There was no reason to dwell on it.

Still, as you walked back to your station, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence was different from the others. There was something familiar, yet foreign about him. Something about the way he moved, the way he stood in that room. It was like he was meant to be there… or maybe he was always meant to be there. And that thought unsettled you more than anything.

As the night went on, you found yourself picturing the strange man in your mind, feeling a sort of magnetic pull towards him, one you couldn’t seem to make sense of. It wasn’t like this with the other members of the group. No, with them, you simply felt a quiet curiosity, but with him there was an undeniable attraction that was tugging at something deep inside of you.

When your shift finally ended, you felt an odd mixture of relief and frustration. You tried not to think about the man who had inexplicably captured your attention, but as you walked out of the hospital doors into the cool night air, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to him. Why did he stand out so much?

It was as if something was drawing you toward him, but you didn’t know why—and you didn’t know if you wanted to find out.

You make the exhausting drive home and hop in the shower, hoping to wash away the confusion and strangeness of your day.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you do know that you’re not in your room anymore.

You’re standing outside, the moon high above, casting an eerie silver glow over a darkened street. The town feels different, the air thicker, heavier, as if it's holding its breath. You glance around, but everything’s too still, too quiet.

And then, you see him.

The guy from the hospital. The one who made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, the one you can’t stop thinking about. His back is turned to you, but the second you step forward, he turns around, as if he’s been waiting for you the entire time. You freeze, heart hammering in your chest. His eyes—dark, almost black—pierce through you with an intensity that makes you feel like you're standing in front of a flame. There's something... predatory in the way he watches you, like he’s a hunter, and you’re the prey.

"You're not supposed to be here," he says, and his voice is so smooth, it sends chills down your spine. It’s like he’s speaking directly into your soul, not your ears.

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The words are stuck, tangled in your throat. His lips twitch into a smirk, almost as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

Suddenly, he steps closer, so close that you can feel the heat from his body, the dangerous magnetism of him drawing you in.

"You’re curious, aren’t you?" His breath brushes your skin as he speaks, and you can’t look away from his eyes. You don’t want to. But you’re also terrified.

Before you can say anything, he reaches out and gently touches your face. It’s too gentle for someone who’s staring at you like he wants to devour you whole. And just as his fingers graze your skin, you feel... something.

A jolt. Like a live wire running through your veins, making your heart race even faster.

And then, just as quickly, it’s gone. The heat, the tension, the undeniable pull between you and him—vanishes like it never existed.

You gasp for air, feeling dizzy, and suddenly, you’re back in your room. You’re breathing hard, your sheets tangled around your legs, the faint morning light creeping through your window.

What the hell was that?

Your pulse is still erratic, your mind a mess of confusion. You didn’t even get his name. Why does he feel so familiar? Why does your heart keep pounding like it’s still trapped in that dream?

You roll over and groan into your pillow, trying to shake the image of his smirk, his dark eyes, the feeling of his touch. You’ve had weird dreams before, but this one... this one was different.

Shaking your head, you try to push the thoughts out of your mind. But no matter how much you try to ignore it, you can’t get him out of your head. You’ve never even talked to him.

So why is it that when you close your eyes, all you can see are his eyes—those dark, mesmerizing eyes?

The next day had been one of those long days at the hospital—the kind where the fluorescent lights seem to bore into your skull and every step feels heavier than the last. You had thought about going straight home, but a nagging headache and the idea of another haunting dream convinced you otherwise. A quick stop for some caffeine at the local coffee shop felt like the natural choice.

The small bell above the door jingles softly as you step inside. It’s quiet, save for the low hum of an espresso machine and the soft chatter of a barista with the only other customer in the shop.

And then you see him.

At first, you’re not sure it’s him. His back is to you, dressed in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, leaning casually against the counter. But there’s something so distinct about his presence, the easy confidence in the way he moves. He turns slightly to glance at the pastries on display, and your breath catches. It’s him—the guy from the group of strangers you saw at the store. Only, he’s even more striking up close.

The barista hands him a drink, and he steps to the side, giving you a clear view of his face. His features are sharp yet soft, the kind that draw your attention and refuse to let it go. His eyes briefly meet yours, and for a fleeting second, it feels like he knows something about you that you don’t.

You quickly avert your gaze, stepping up to the counter to place your order.

“Just a latte, please,” you say, fumbling with your wallet.

“You’re working late, huh?” a voice pipes up beside you. You glance over, and sure enough, he’s still there, holding his drink, leaning casually against the counter.

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the ID badge still clipped to your scrubs. “You’re a nurse, right? Those shifts are brutal.”

“Nurse practitioner, but yeah, they can be,” you reply cautiously.

“I respect that. Saving lives and all,” he says with a smile that’s just a little too perfect, a little too practiced.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “I don’t think I saw you at the hospital today.”

His grin widens, almost as if he’s amused by your speculation. “Nope. Not a patient, promise. I’d remember if I was.”

There’s something playful in his tone that makes your guard falter, if only for a moment. “Do you just hang out in coffee shops at night and chat people up, or am I special?” you ask, your voice laced with sarcasm.

He laughs, a light, melodic sound that catches you off guard. “You’re definitely special.”

Before you can respond, your drink is ready, and you quickly grab it, grateful for the excuse to leave the conversation. But as you turn to leave, he steps slightly closer—not enough to invade your space, but enough to make you notice.

“I’m Haechan, by the way,” he says, his voice dropping just a fraction lower.

You hesitate. There’s something about him that’s simultaneously disarming and unnerving, like he’s trying to charm you but isn’t quite hiding the fact that there’s more to him. “Nice to meet you,” you reply stiffly, not offering your name.

His smile doesn’t waver. “See you around, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen at his comment, quickly turning and leaving the coffee shop, willing yourself not to think about how he could possibly know your name.

You walk out into the night, your heart pounding for reasons you can’t quite explain. The dream from the night before flashes in your mind, and for a split second, you wonder if he somehow knows.

But that’s ridiculous...right?

You’re beginning to see a pattern, though you wish you weren’t. The blood loss patients all share the same eerie story—waking up dazed, no memory of what could’ve caused their symptoms. They come from all walks of life: a college student, a local farmer, even a retired teacher. No clear connection. No logical explanation.

You jot down your observations in a small notebook you keep tucked away in your bag, trying not to let the unease get to you. It’s just...strange. But there’s nothing you can do about it yet, so you try to go about life as normally as possible, even if your nights are haunted by dreams of him.

The dreams always feel too vivid. Haechan’s piercing eyes, his crooked smirk, the way his presence sets your nerves on fire. You wake up most mornings confused and on edge, unable to shake the way his voice echoes in your mind like he’s right there with you.

You’re trying not to think about him when Giselle drags you to the town’s outdoor shopping market. She’s determined to make you forget about work for a while, even if it means forcing you to eat fried dumplings at her favorite stall.

It’s working—at least until you see them.

Haechan and another guy you vaguely recognize, Jaemin, are leaning casually against a bench on the other side of the street. They’re dressed too well for the casual market atmosphere, their dark clothes and sharp features making them stand out against the pastel storefronts and strolling families. But it’s not just how they look—it’s the way they’re both staring.

At you.

“Uh, Y/N?” Giselle nudges your arm with her elbow, her voice low. “Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

“I have no idea,” you mutter, your pulse quickening.

Before you can even think about walking away, the two of them start heading toward you. You tense instinctively, clutching your shopping bag tighter as Giselle frowns beside you.

“Hey,” Haechan greets, his smile disarmingly warm. His eyes, however, are locked on you, glinting with something unreadable.

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment, his expression more neutral but still sharp, like he’s analyzing every move you make.

“Hi,” you manage, your voice steady despite the way your heart is hammering.

“You’re new in town,” Haechan states, tilting his head slightly. “Well, not new, exactly. You grew up here, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you reply cautiously, unsure how he knows that.

He smiles again, wider this time. “It’s funny how things come full circle, isn’t it? Leaving just to end up back where you started.”

You blink, taken aback. His words feel loaded with meaning you can’t quite grasp, like he’s speaking in some kind of code.

“And you’re...” Jaemin glances at Giselle, raising an eyebrow. “Not from around here?”

“Uh, no, I am,” Giselle answers, her tone clipped. She shifts closer to you, clearly not loving the attention. “Lived here my whole life.”

“Interesting,” Jaemin replies, though it’s unclear what he actually finds interesting.

Haechan’s gaze doesn’t waver from you, and you feel like you’re standing under a microscope. “It’s a nice place,” he says, almost absentmindedly. “Quiet. But I guess every town has its secrets, doesn’t it?”

“Okay,” Giselle cuts in, her voice sharp as she grabs your arm. “Well, it was great meeting you guys, but we have to go.”

Haechan chuckles softly, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

You barely manage to nod before Giselle pulls you away, her grip firm as she steers you down the street.

“That was so weird,” she mutters once you’re out of earshot. “What’s their deal? And why were they staring at you like that?”

You shake your head, still trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admit. But even as you say it, Haechan’s cryptic smile lingers in your mind, as if daring you to figure it out.

A few weeks later, you’re on your way home after a late shift. The quiet hum of the countryside at night wraps around you like a heavy blanket. The air is crisp, carrying the faint smell of wet grass, and the silence is almost eerie. 

The drive is the same as every other time you’ve done it before, but this time, your car starts to stall, making all kinds of weird noise and jerking to a stop.

Your car sputters one final time before the engine gives out completely. Groaning, you slam your hand against the steering wheel.

“Fuck me,” you mutter under your breath, flipping on your hazards and stepping out. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you inspect the car, but honestly, what are you even looking for? You don’t know the first thing about fixing an engine.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you glance at the screen. One bar of service. Perfect.

You shiver as a faint breeze picks up, tugging at your jacket. The road stretches on endlessly in both directions, illuminated only by the weak beam of your hazards. No other cars. No streetlights. Just you, your useless car, and the creeping unease you’ve been trying to ignore since your car broke down.

Then you see it—two headlights approaching from the distance, growing brighter as they near. You squint against the light, shielding your eyes with your hand. The car slows, its sleek, dark shape pulling up beside you.

The passenger window rolls down, and you’re greeted by a familiar voice.

“Need a hand?”

Your heart jolts as you recognize Haechan sitting in the driver’s seat, his elbow casually resting on the edge of the window. His hair is slightly tousled, and he’s dressed in all black, which only adds to the air of mystery around him. His smile is easy, but there’s something unsettling in the way his eyes seem to take in every detail of you. You also notice that his skin is unusually dull, almost dead-looking.

“Haechan?” you say, surprised. “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” he replies smoothly, his gaze flickering to your car. “Late night joyride?”

You fumble for words, feeling slightly exposed under his unwavering attention. “No. My car broke down. I was on my way back from work.”

He hums, stepping out of his own car. You notice how quiet the night becomes in his presence, the air seeming to thrum with something unspoken.

“Let me take a look,” he offers, walking toward your car with a confidence that makes you feel like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You trail behind him, hugging your arms to your chest as he pops the hood. He peers into the engine, his face partially obscured by shadows.

“How do you even know how to fix this?” you ask skeptically.

Haechan straightens, wiping his hands on his pants as he turns to face you. “Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of car troubles,” he says, his smile playful but not entirely reassuring.

Before you can press further, the sound of another car approaching pulls your attention. You glance back to see faint headlights in the distance. When you turn back to Haechan, you catch the briefest flicker of something—unease?—cross his expression. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual charm.

“Good news,” he says, closing the hood with a decisive thud. “It’s nothing serious. You should be good to go now.”

You blink at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

You glance at the car, then back at him. Something about the way he showed up so conveniently, so effortlessly, gnaws at you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling a little dazed. “I guess I’ll get going then.”

“Drive safe,” Haechan replies, his tone light, but his eyes linger on you for a beat too long.

As you get back into your car, the engine rumbles to life as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. You glance in the rearview mirror, but Haechan is already climbing back into his own car. His headlights flash as he pulls away, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

The whole encounter leaves your stomach churning, and as you drive off, the thought won’t leave your mind—what was he even doing out here? Why did his previously luminous skin look so dull?

You wake up to the smell of coffee and the low hum of voices drifting from the kitchen. Sunlight streams through the curtains, and for a moment, you consider staying in bed a little longer, but the memory of last night pushes you up. After a quick shower and throwing on some sweats, you make your way downstairs.

Your mom is at the stove, flipping pancakes, while your dad sits at the table, his laptop open beside his plate. They both glance up as you enter.

“Morning, honey,” your mom says brightly. “Pancakes will be ready in a minute.”

“Morning,” you mumble, grabbing a mug and pouring yourself some coffee. You sit at the table across from your dad, who’s already eyeing you curiously.

“You got in pretty late last night,” he says, his tone casual but laced with concern.

“Yeah,” you reply, blowing on your coffee. “The car broke down.”

Your mom turns sharply from the stove. “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assure her quickly. “It was on that long stretch of road just outside town. Nobody was around.”

Your dad’s brow furrows, his lawyer instincts kicking in. “And you stayed out there by yourself?”

“No, I didn’t,” you say, cutting him off before he can worry too much. “Haechan showed up and helped me.”

Both of them pause, exchanging a glance that makes you feel like you’d said something wrong.

“One of those boys?” your mom asks, her tone teetering between disbelief and unease.

“Yeah,” you say cautiously, knowing exactly where this is going.

Your dad leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “What was he doing out there at that hour?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But he fixed the car. It was fine after that.”

“Hmm,” your dad mutters, clearly not buying it.

“He’s weird,” your mom says, flipping the last pancake onto a plate. “I’ve seen him around town with those other boys. They’re… I don’t know. There’s something off about them.”

You sigh, setting your mug down. “They’re just new to town. You’re making it a bigger deal than it is.”

“Maybe,” your dad says, but his skeptical tone suggests otherwise. “Still, this isn’t the first time your car’s acted up, is it? I think it’s time we get you something reliable.”

Your heart sinks. “I don’t need a new car. It’s fine.”

“It broke down on an empty road in the middle of the night,” your mom points out. “What if Haechan hadn’t shown up? What if no one had?”

“I just… I don’t want to get rid of it,” you say, your voice quieter now.

Your dad softens, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “I get it. You’ve had that car for years. But it’s not safe anymore. We’ll help you get something newer, something you can count on.”

You bite your lip, feeling conflicted. The car holds so many memories—your first drive to college, late-night trips with friends, the sense of independence it gave you. Letting it go feels like letting go of a piece of yourself. But the thought of being stranded again, of the creeping unease from last night, convinces you.

“Okay,” you say finally. “But I’ll pay for half of it.”

Your dad chuckles. “We’ll see about that.”

Your mom sets a plate of pancakes in front of you, giving you a sympathetic smile. “It’s for the best, sweetie.”

You nod, trying to focus on the food instead of the ache in your chest.

“So,” your dad says after a beat, his tone shifting back to skepticism, “did Haechan say why he was out there?”

“No,” you admit. “He just showed up, fixed the car, and left.”

“Strange,” your mom says, sitting down beside your dad. “You be careful around him, okay? I don’t want you getting too involved with those boys.”

You don’t respond, cutting into your pancake and chewing slowly. The truth is, you’re not sure what to think. About the car. About Haechan. About any of it.

It feels almost fake, the way you keep running into him. First at the hospital, then on the side of the road, and now here—again—at the small café you frequent on your days off. He’s leaning casually against the counter, scrolling through his phone, as if he belongs there.

You try to tell yourself it’s nothing. Small towns are like that. People cross paths all the time. But when he looks up and catches your gaze, his lips curve into a knowing smile, like he’s been expecting you.

“Thanks again for helping me out the other night,” you blurt, stepping closer. “I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you.”

He tilts his head, pretending to think it over. “It was no big deal, I promise.”

“Well... let me do something to make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?” you offer, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

Something flickers in his dark eyes, and for a second, you think he’s going to say no. But then he shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

You lead the way to the small bar just down the street. It’s quiet for a weeknight, a few scattered regulars nursing their beers while soft music hums from the jukebox. You settle into a booth near the back, and a waiter comes by to take your order.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” you say, glancing at Haechan.

He raises an eyebrow. “Make that two.”

The drinks arrive quickly, but as you take a sip of yours, you notice Haechan barely touches his. Instead, he leans back against the booth, watching you with a lazy sort of curiosity.

“So, what’s it like working at the hospital?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s suppressing a grin.

“It’s... busy,” you say carefully. “You meet all kinds of people. See a lot of weird things.”

“Weird, huh?” He swirls the drink in his hand, the ice clinking against the glass.

You nod, not wanting to elaborate. But the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the most fascinating thing in the room—makes your pulse quicken.

“You smell really good, by the way,” he says suddenly, his voice soft but deliberate.

Your hand freezes halfway to your drink. “Oh... uh, thanks?”

“It’s... unique,” he adds, tilting his head like he’s studying you. “Like vanilla, maybe? Something sweeter.”

You can feel your cheeks flush. “Okay, well, that’s... kind of an odd thing to say.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich, and for a moment, you almost forget how unsettling the comment was. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird. Just... making an observation.”

You sip your drink, the chill of the gin soothing the heat creeping up your neck from Haechan’s strange comment. The bar is quiet, the low murmur of conversation blending with the soft music in the background. You shift in your seat, Haechan’s still watching you, his gaze intense in a way that makes you feel like he's dissecting everything about you, but you try to ignore it.

“So, uh…” You bite your lip, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer. “I shouldn’t really be talking about this, but I’ve had some weird cases lately at the hospital. Like... blood loss cases.”

Haechan leans forward just slightly, his eyes lighting up at the mention of it. “Blood loss? Like, what kind of blood loss?”

You frown. It’s hard to explain, but the way he’s asking makes you feel like he’s almost too interested. Too curious.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging it off. “It’s not like... they’re missing any blood or anything obvious. But a lot of patients are coming in, saying they woke up feeling off, but they don’t remember how they got hurt. And there’s this weird pattern with it.”

Haechan tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “That’s... weird. What do you think it is?” He leans even closer, his voice a little too smooth.

You hesitate, unsure why you’re even talking about this with him, but you keep going. "I don’t know. At first, I thought it was just... coincidence. But it’s happening too often, and none of them have any injuries to show for it."

“Hmm,” he hums, tapping his fingers on the rim of his glass. “That sounds pretty crazy. You ever think maybe it’s something... supernatural?”

You freeze for a moment, caught off guard by his suggestion. It’s such a random thing to say, especially from someone you’ve just met. You chuckle, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Supernatural? Really? I’m a nurse, not some kind of paranormal investigator.”

Haechan smirks, his gaze never leaving you. “I’m just saying… Sometimes things aren’t always as they seem.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your mind racing. He’s definitely not taking you seriously, but why does it feel like he knows something more than he’s letting on?

“I shouldn’t even be telling you all this,” you mutter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “It’s just... strange. And no one’s really been able to explain it.”

But Haechan leans in a little closer, his smile now playful, but there’s an underlying intensity in his voice. “Oh come on, I’m not gonna bite. You can tell me. What do you think’s going on with all these people?”

His eyes are focused, almost too focused, and it feels like he’s reading you, waiting for you to spill your suspicions. Something about the way he’s prying is starting to make you uneasy.

“I don’t know. It’s probably just some weird coincidence,” you say, though you’re not even convinced of that yourself. You’re starting to feel like you’re playing into his game.

“You sure about that?” Haechan asks, his voice lower now, almost as if he’s coaxing you into revealing more. “I mean, there’s gotta be more to it, right? All these patients... No injuries but still blood loss? That’s gotta be something worth looking into.”

You shake your head, feeling the unease settle in your stomach. “I think... I think it’s just a weird coincidence. You’re probably right, though. I’m probably overthinking it.”

Haechan gives you a sly grin, clearly satisfied with your answer, though you’re not sure why. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Or maybe you’re just not seeing the bigger picture yet.”

“Maybe,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. You can’t shake the feeling that he knows something—or that he’s trying to get you to talk about something you’re not ready to acknowledge.

The silence stretches for a moment as you both sip your drinks, the tension lingering in the air. But as you sit there, you can’t help but feel like you’re being drawn into something much bigger than just a simple conversation about weird hospital cases.

And when the night ends, and you drive home alone under the dim streetlights, you realize you never once saw him drink from his glass.

The night air was cool, and the shadows cast long and quiet around them. The group of friends had gathered in the usual spot—an old, dilapidated barn just outside of town, away from the prying eyes of anyone who might ask questions. It was one of the few places they could talk freely, and tonight, they needed to.

Haechan leaned against the rotting wooden beams, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he stared off into the distance, his thoughts miles away. Jaemin, Chenle, and Jeno were all present, but none of them spoke right away. They were all waiting for him to break the silence, to say something about what was bothering him.

Jaemin caved, and spoke, his tone casual but laced with concern. “You’re acting weird, man,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “What’s going on with you and that girl?”

Haechan’s jaw tightened at the mention of you, and he instinctively glanced down at the dirt beneath his feet, avoiding their gaze. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “Just... it’s nothing.”

But the others weren’t buying it. Chenle’s sharp gaze flicked over to him, a smirk on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been obsessed with her ever since the other night. We can see it. You can’t keep going down this road, Haechan.”

Jeno, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice low but serious. “You’re making this complicated. You’ve got enough problems as it is. Don’t let it get worse.”

Haechan rubbed the back of his neck, frustration bubbling up inside him. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I just... she’s different. I don’t know why, but she feels different from everyone else. I can’t stop thinking about her. She makes me feel... I don’t know. Normal.”

Jaemin clicked his tongue, an exasperated expression crossing his face. “That’s exactly what you need to avoid. Normality doesn’t work for us, Haechan. You can’t afford to get attached. She’s a human. You’re not. I don’t even need to tell you what happens when you get too close to one of them. You know the risks.”

Chenle chimed in, his voice suddenly serious, all trace of teasing gone. “And let’s not forget about the blood thing,” he added, his eyes narrowing. “You’re still drinking human blood. You know Mark’s not going to let that slide if he finds out.”

Haechan’s stomach churned at the mention of Mark. The older vampire was their leader, the one who kept everyone in check. He was the one who insisted on sticking to the "cruelty-free" lifestyle—drinking only animal blood to stay under the radar of the humans. It was a rule, one that everyone else followed, but Haechan had been struggling to adhere to it since he was turned.

“I... I don’t know what to do anymore,” Haechan admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I keep telling myself I’ll stop, but every time I see her, it’s like I lose control.”

Jeno crossed his arms, his voice firm but sympathetic. “Look, Haechan, you can’t keep doing this. Mark’s already on edge about everything, and if he finds out you’ve been breaking the rules, it’s not just your neck on the line—it’s all of ours.”

Jaemin leaned against the barn wall, his eyes sharp. “Exactly. We’re already walking a tightrope here, you can’t afford to make it worse.”

Haechan’s gaze dropped to the ground, guilt and frustration swirling inside him. He’d always been a bit of a rule-breaker, but this? This was different. He was walking a dangerous path, and he knew it.

“I’m not trying to mess things up,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I don’t want to lose everything... I don’t want Mark to find out, but it’s hard.”

Chenle took a step forward, his voice a little softer now. “We get it. We really do. But you’ve gotta think about the bigger picture here. If Mark finds out, it’s not just your secret on the line. It’s all of ours. The last thing we need is him going off on us.”

Jaemin nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, and you know Mark’s not going to let this slide. He’s got a lot on his plate, but if he finds out about this... it’s gonna get ugly.”

Haechan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I’ll stop,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try. I just don’t know how long I can keep this up. Every time I see her, it’s like... everything else fades away. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Jeno softened, the sharp edge in his voice melting away as he placed a hand on Haechan’s shoulder. “We’re just trying to look out for you, man. You’ve gotta keep it together. For your sake, and for all of us.”

Jaemin, always the one to lighten the mood, flashed a grin. “Just stop drinking people’s blood, and maybe we won’t have to worry about you getting caught.”

Haechan gave a small, wry smile at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but his friends were right. He had to stop. He had to get a grip before things got out of hand.

As they all fell into a heavy silence, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that the choices he made in the coming days would determine everything—not just for him, but for everyone he cared about.

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon, but when you walk into the only restaurant in town one night, there he is, sitting at a corner table, his eyes looking distant, his shoulders slouched in a way that’s uncharacteristic of him. His usual energy is absent, replaced with an almost palpable exhaustion. The sight makes your heart tighten in your chest.

You freeze for a moment, hesitating. Haechan has always been lively, the kind of guy who never seemed to take anything too seriously, always throwing out a joke or a playful comment. But today, his face is pale, his hair messier than usual, and his eyes—those eyes that usually spark with mischief—are dull, almost sunken.

You approach cautiously, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t pry, but something inside you nags at you.

“Hey,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the concern slips into your voice. “You okay? You look... I don’t know, you look kinda rough today.”

Haechan doesn’t look up immediately. He fiddles with the cup in front of him, the steam rising from it, though you notice he doesn’t drink out of it.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, almost too quickly, his voice lacking its usual playful tone. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just, uh... didn’t sleep well last night.”

You don’t buy it. There’s something off, and it’s more than just lack of sleep. The way his hands tremble slightly as he adjusts the cup. The fact that his usual playful demeanor has been replaced with a quiet, almost hollow version of himself. You sit down across from him, unable to help yourself.

You approach cautiously, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t pry, but something inside you nags at you.

“Hey,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the concern slips into your voice. “You okay? You look... I don’t know, you look kinda rough today.”

Haechan doesn’t look up immediately. He fiddles with the cup in front of him, the steam rising from it, though you notice he doesn’t take a sip.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, almost too quickly, his voice lacking its usual playful tone. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just, uh... didn’t sleep well last night.”

You don’t buy it. There’s something off, and it’s more than just lack of sleep. The way his hands tremble slightly as he adjusts the cup. The fact that his usual playful demeanor has been replaced with a quiet, almost hollow version of himself.

Haechan stands up abruptly, and for a moment, you think he’s going to leave. But then, he glances at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and asks, “Hey, do you want to see something?”

You pause, a little surprised by the sudden offer. You’d been expecting him to just slink away like every other time you’d spoken, but now he’s offering you something entirely different. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. The thought that he’s acting strange nags at the back of your mind, but something about his tone makes you feel like this could be important—like he needs you to come along, even if he’s not saying it outright.

“Uh... sure,” you say, your voice unsure, but you can’t stop yourself from agreeing. You can tell he’s not okay, and maybe, just maybe, this could be the thing that makes him feel better. He’s not the type to open up easily, so you’re willing to follow him if it’ll help.

Haechan gives you a small, almost wistful smile as if he’s relieved by your answer. Without saying much more, he leads you out of the café and toward the familiar black car parked by the curb.

“Get in,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing.

You hesitate, your eyes flicking to your own car parked further down the street. “Are you sure this is—?”

He cuts you off with a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. Just trust me.”

You’re not sure why, but you say nothing, sliding into the passenger seat. There’s a strange sense of calm that washes over you, a strange trust you’ve never felt before.

He turns the key in the ignition, and the car hums to life. The sound of the engine fills the quiet, but the unease in your stomach doesn’t go away. Your mind races—this isn’t something you should be doing, not with someone you barely know, and certainly not at this hour. If your parents knew...

But you don’t say anything. Maybe it’s because you want to help him, or maybe it’s because part of you feels drawn to him in a way you can’t explain.

The car rumbles through the empty streets as you leave the small town behind. The houses grow fewer and farther apart, and the night seems to stretch on forever. The moonlight casts long shadows on the dirt roads, and everything feels eerily quiet.

“Where are we going?” you finally ask, breaking the silence.

“Don’t ask questions,” Haechan replies with a smile, though it’s softer this time, like he’s actually trying to ease your nerves. “Just trust I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

You don’t ask any more questions as you drive further into the night, your thoughts swirling. You can’t help but wonder what he’s up to, why he’s so different tonight, why he’s asking for your trust so earnestly. But you also don’t want to let him down. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been so closed off, and the little cracks you’ve started to see that make you want to understand him more.

After what feels like an eternity, Haechan pulls the car into a dirt road that leads to a vast patch of farmland. The land is empty, the crops long gone, the farmhouse standing abandoned and dilapidated, a shadow of its former self.

He stops the car and turns off the engine, the sudden silence feeling even heavier.

“This is it,” Haechan says, his voice softer now, almost distant. “I come out here sometimes. It helps clear my head.”

You look around at the forgotten farmland, the tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. It’s so quiet out here, the only sounds the distant rustling of the trees and the occasional chirp of crickets. You get out of the car, feeling the cool night air hit your face, and step beside him, unsure of what you’re doing here, but too curious to leave.

He glances over at you with a small smile, his eyes a little brighter in the dark, like the stars overhead. “You ever just look up and feel small? Like the world’s so big, and you’re just a tiny part of it?”

You can’t help but nod. “Yeah, I get that sometimes.”

Haechan takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as he looks up at the night sky, his expression unreadable.

“You make me feel normal, Y/N,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes flick to you, his lips curling up slightly. “Like maybe I don’t have to be so... different all the time.”

You feel a flicker of something in your chest at his words. There’s an undertone there, something you can’t quite place. The way he looks at you... it’s not just a casual glance. It’s like he’s seeing something in you that you don’t quite understand yet.

“Different?” you ask, your voice unsure, but you feel the need to ask. It’s been a question on your mind since you first met him, since you first noticed how... unusual he is.

He chuckles softly, a sound that doesn’t quite match the heaviness in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

You try to meet his gaze, but there’s a wall there, something he’s not letting you into. The thought lingers in the back of your mind, and for the first time, you wonder just what it is he’s hiding.

But instead of pressing, you just nod, turning your gaze back to the stars. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, it feels strangely intimate, like you’re both floating in the same stillness, sharing something neither of you can fully name.

Eventually, Haechan sighs, and the weight of the moment seems to shift.

“Thanks for coming out here with me,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know why, but it helps. Being around people who make me feel... not freakish.”

You smile softly, unsure of what else to say. He’s said enough for now, and maybe, for the first time, you realize that the pieces of him that have been hidden behind walls are starting to crack just a little. Maybe soon, he’ll let you in. But for now, this is enough.

You glance up at the stars again, feeling a strange sense of calm.

“Yeah,” you reply, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

The night lingers on, and you both stay there, staring up at the stars, with the unspoken words between you both hanging in the cool air.

Haechan can’t shake the feeling that he’s dying.

It’s not dramatic, but it’s close enough. His body aches, his mind feels foggy, and no matter how much he tries to sleep or eat—nothing helps. He’s been cutting himself off from the blood, trying to prove that he can do this, trying to fight it. The cravings are there, gnawing at the back of his throat, but he’s trying—trying—to ignore them.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Doesn’t want to fall back into old habits.

But the hunger is relentless. It claws at him when he’s alone, when he’s trying to focus, when he’s near you.

Being around you is the only thing that makes him feel normal, the only thing that pushes away the hunger for just a moment. The more he sees you, the more he needs to see you. It’s like a fix, a quiet peace that settles over him when the two of you are together.

“Dude, you okay?” Jaemin’s voice cuts through the haze, a sharp note of concern in it that Haechan can’t ignore.

He looks up to see the group’s concerned faces staring back at him. Jeno and Chenle are also watching him, arms crossed, silent.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Haechan says, but his voice is strained. It’s the same thing he’s been saying for days. He’s not fine. His body feels like it’s burning from the inside, and no amount of water or food can quell it.

Jaemin doesn’t buy it. He walks over, looking him up and down. “You don’t look fine. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Haechan rubs his eyes, trying to clear the exhaustion. “I’ve been busy, okay? Just haven’t had time to rest.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push. “It’s not just that, though. You’ve been acting weird. You keep disappearing. And every time you come back, you smell… different.” He leans closer, sniffing the air dramatically, earning a roll of the eyes from Haechan.

“Cut it out, Jaemin,” he mutters, swatting at his friend’s hand.

Jeno, who’s been unusually quiet, finally speaks up. “Look, we all know you’ve been… trying to stop. But you can’t just cut off the blood supply like that and expect to feel good. You’re messing with your system, Haechan. You need it.”

“I don’t want it anymore,” Haechan snaps, the words coming out sharper than he intends. He exhales, trying to calm himself. “I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

He pauses, looking at his friends, feeling the weight of their gazes. “It’s just… It’s hard, okay? Especially when I’m around her.”

Jaemin, ever the curious one, raises an eyebrow. “Who? Y/N?”

Haechan’s heart skips, just a little, at the mention of youe name. He’s never admitted it aloud, not even to himself. But the truth is, you are the only thing that makes it all feel bearable. You’re the reason he’s still standing, still breathing, even if it's just in fragments.

“I don’t know what it is,” he mutters, his voice quiet now. “She’s just… different. Every time I see her, I feel like I’m finally able to breathe again. And I know that’s messed up, but it’s true.” He laughs bitterly. “I can’t explain it. It’s just… something about her pulls me in. I just… need to be near her.”

Jeno and Chenle exchange a glance.

“I still don’t get it,” Chenle says, shaking his head. “What’s so special about her? I mean, she’s just a human.”

Haechan’s jaw tightens. “She’s not just a human.” His voice softens, almost wistful. “She makes me feel normal. Not like... this.”

Jaemin claps his hands together, leaning in, trying to lighten the mood. “Look, man. Just don’t go overboard. Mark’s been asking about you. He knows something’s up.”

Haechan’s stomach drops at the mention of Mark. Mark has always been the level-headed one, taking care of them whenever they needed it and trusting them implicitly. If he finds out what’s going on with Haechan, it’s all over.

“I’m not doing anything crazy, alright?” Haechan says, quickly. He stands up and brushes himself off, trying to hide the nerves that flood through him. “I’m just... keeping my distance, okay?”

Jaemin’s grin is sly. “Well, if you don’t want Mark to find out, you better chill with all the Y/N stuff. It’s obvious you’re way into her.”

Haechan looks at him, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in his chest at the thought. He’s not into her. Not in the way Jaemin means. But he’s still drawn to her, more than he’s ever been to anyone. And that’s the problem.

“I’m not into her,” Haechan mutters, though even he knows it’s a lie.

Jaemin just shrugs. “Whatever, dude. Just don’t let it get out of hand.”

As Haechan walks out of the room, he can’t help but think about his friends’ words. They’re right, in a way. But when it comes to you, everything feels different. And he can’t seem to stop himself from wanting more.

You’re starting to get used to it—the rides, the late-night drives, the feeling that Haechan is always around. It’s no longer as weird as it once was, almost making you feel safe, and maybe that’s what gets to you the most. The strangeness you’d once felt when you first met him has been replaced with something… comforting. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something about him that makes you feel like things are just a little bit easier.

The first time he offers to drive you to work, you’re reluctant. You hate being dependent on others, let alone someone you barely know. But your car’s practically falling apart, and the idea of breaking down again isn’t exactly appealing, so you give in.

And just like that, he starts picking you up every morning. It’s like an unspoken routine, and after a few days, it’s almost like you’ve always had this. He’s always there at the same time, always with that casual smile and a way of making even the silence feel comfortable.

“You really don’t have to do this, Haechan,” you say one morning, standing at your front door and looking at your car. “I’ll be fine.”

He looks at your car with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna last long.”

You huff a little, but it’s not a serious protest. In truth, you’re kind of relieved. Your car is definitely on its last legs. He’s there every day now, picking you up, and it becomes a sort of comfort. Something you look forward to as you climb into the passenger seat, the world outside your window slowly passing by as you talk.

You talk about work, about random things. It’s easy to get lost in conversation with him. And somehow, the more you talk, the more you feel like you’re peeling away the layers, getting to know him. Even if you’re not asking direct questions, it’s like you’re discovering the little things that make him tick.

But then there are your parents.

They start to notice, of course. They’re always watching, always concerned, and you can tell when the questions start. You’d think they’d be relieved you weren’t driving around in your old car anymore, but they’re more skeptical than anything.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with that boy lately,” your mom says, casually, but you can see the look in her eyes. The concern. She doesn’t have to say much for you to know what she’s thinking.

“He’s just helping me out with my car, Mom,” you respond quickly, brushing it off.

“Are you sure that’s all?” she presses, narrowing her eyes in that way she does when she’s trying to get to the truth. “You don’t really know him, do you?”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the flicker of doubt in your chest. “He’s just a friend, Mom. Really.”

Your dad doesn’t even try to hide his disapproval when the topic comes up over dinner. “So, now you have a personal chauffeur?” he says, his tone sharp and skeptical. “What’s he after?”

You feel your cheeks flush. “Nothing, Dad. He’s just a friend.”

But the concern doesn’t fade. If anything, it makes it worse. Your dad watches your every move when you leave the house, and you can feel the tension between him and Haechan the first time they meet. It’s like a silent standoff, and you’re not sure what’s making your dad so antsy, but it’s there. And that only makes you feel more conflicted.

“Be careful, alright?” your mom says quietly, her eyes following you as you walk out the door. “You don’t know who his friends are. Or what he’s really like.”

You don’t respond, but the unease lingers. It gnaws at you, even though you try to push it away. You tell yourself it’s nothing. Your parents are just overprotective.

The truth is, you don’t know what to make of Haechan. You’re still figuring him out, and as you spend more time with him, you start to see sides of him that make you think maybe your parents are right to be worried. Sometimes he says things that don’t make sense, or acts in ways that are just a little too charming, too… perfect. It’s like he knows exactly how to make you feel comfortable, exactly how to make you feel like the world’s a little less complicated when he’s around.

You don’t know why you’re so drawn to him, but you are. And that’s the scariest part.

One night after work, Haechan pulls up to your house as usual. You’re tired, your legs aching from standing all day, and you can’t wait to get inside and collapse into bed. But when you see him sitting in the car, looking at you with that familiar, almost concerned look, you feel a tug at your chest.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer than usual. “You look kind of wiped.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, trying to brush it off. “Just a long day.”

But he doesn’t seem convinced. “You sure?”

You nod, but he’s still looking at you with that too-knowing gaze. It’s like he sees right through the walls you’ve built up.

“Alright, well… get some rest, okay?” he says, a little too carefully.

You smile and nod, but as you turn to open the door, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching you a little too closely. It’s not unsettling, though. In a strange way, it makes you feel… seen.

The next morning, it’s the same routine. The same car, the same comforting silence between you two. You slip into the passenger seat, already feeling like this is your new normal. The world outside is a blur, and for a while, it’s just the two of you, the road, and the easy conversation that flows between you.

Maybe your parents are right to worry. Maybe Haechan isn’t exactly what he seems.

But right now, none of that matters. Right now, it’s just you and him. And for the first time in a long time, that’s enough.

You’re working your usual shift at the hospital, dreading returning home, since the house was empty, your parents having gone on a weekend trip to the coast. Something about having the house to yourself felt wrong, as if you weren’t supposed to be there.  You were checking on patients and trying to stay on top of your never-ending to-do list. The night is quiet, almost eerily so, when suddenly you get a call for a new patient who’s been brought in after a car accident. You rush to the emergency room to help.

The whole thing happens so fast. A small fender-bender turns into chaos when the injured man starts bleeding uncontrollably, and the pressure to get him stabilized is on. The room’s filled with frantic activity, the beeping of machines, the distant sounds of nurses and doctors hustling around. You’re running on autopilot, focused on getting everything right, keeping your head in the game.

Then, as you step back, you trip on one of the many cords snaking around the patient, losing your footing and crashing into a nearby medical cart. You hit your head against the metal shelf hard enough for a sharp pain to shoot through your skull. The force leaves you dazed for a moment, and you stumble, but manage to catch yourself before you hit the ground.

You’re stunned, disoriented, but you quickly shake it off. It’s just a small bump. Nothing serious. You finish helping with the patient’s stabilization, and the team moves the man into the intensive care unit. Still, your head throbs, and when you bring your hand up to it, you feel the sticky warmth of blood.

The rest of the night is a blur of patients and responsibilities. You try to stay focused, but every time you move, the pain in your head intensifies. By the time your shift ends, you’re exhausted and ready to head home.

Today had been one of the rare days you were able to convince Haechan not to pick you up, he had seemed sick and you quickly assured him you’d be able to make it to and from work in one piece. 

The drive home is silent, your head still pounding. You pull up to your house, your neck aching, your vision blurry. You’re halfway to the door when your phone buzzes with a message from Haechan.

Haechan: “How are you? You okay?”

You smile despite yourself, not realizing how much you’ve come to look forward to his messages. He’s always checking in, and you appreciate it. But you’re also annoyed with yourself for not letting him know how much you need him around more often.

You text back: “Long shift. Bumped my head pretty bad, but it’s nothing. Just a little dizzy and tired”

It’s only a few minutes after you send this text when you hear a car pulling up in front of your house. You step out to check, and to your surprise, Haechan’s car pulls up right in front of your house. He looks frantic, eyes wide, hands gripping the wheel tight. When he sees you, his face softens, but the panic doesn’t fade from his eyes.

“Haechan? What—”

Before you can finish the sentence, he’s out of the car and at your side, looking you up and down. His gaze settles on your head, and you realize you’ve got a thin trickle of blood running down the side of your face. His breathing quickens as he reaches for your head, his hand trembling slightly as he touches it, almost as though he’s afraid of hurting you more.

“Y/N… what happened?” His voice is strained, like he’s struggling to stay calm. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’m fine,” you insist, swatting his hand away gently. “Really, it’s just a little bump. I’ve had worse.”

But he’s not hearing you. His eyes flicker to your neck, his gaze darkening as though something inside him is fighting to stay under control. You notice the strange way his chest rises and falls, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth are grinding. His usual charm and ease have disappeared. He’s nothing like the confident, carefree guy you’ve come to know. In this moment, he looks almost… afraid.

“I can’t… I can’t be around when you’re like this,” he mutters, voice low, just above a whisper. He takes a step back, his eyes darting all over you as though he’s trying to pull himself together.

Before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he grabs your arm and pulls you gently but firmly towards his car.

“Come on,” he says, his voice now forceful, but not in the usual playful way. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

You don’t protest. Part of you wonders if you should, but you don’t. There’s something in his eyes—something raw, desperate—and you know, deep down, that he’s not just being dramatic.

As he drives, you can feel the tension in his movements, like he’s doing everything to keep himself in check. The car ride is silent, the only noise being the hum of the engine and the occasional deep breath from Haechan.

He pulls up to the familiar spot—an empty field, the stars overhead. He cuts the engine but doesn’t get out, staring at the dashboard, his fingers gripping the wheel again. You’re unsure if you should break the silence or let him speak first, but before you can make up your mind, he turns to you.

“I… I can’t lose you,” he says quietly, his voice cracking as though it’s something he’s been holding in for a long time. “I don’t care how crazy it sounds, but I can’t.” He pauses, his eyes shifting away from yours. “I know what I am. I know I’m dangerous.”

He takes a shaky breath. “And I’m sorry. But you can’t get hurt, not like this.”

You don’t say anything right away. What do you say to that? You’re still reeling from the intensity of the situation, your head throbbing from the bump and the tension in the air.

But there’s something in his eyes that keeps you from running. You know, deep down, that whatever this is—it’s not just some passing thing. There’s more to it. And despite the fear, you want to understand.

"I don’t know what you're talking about," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Haechan’s eyes flicker to yours, his gaze softening just a fraction. “I know… but I’m going to do everything I can to protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

And for the first time, you wonder if you should be scared. Or if, somehow, you’ve already let yourself fall too far into this strange world Haechan is dragging you into.

The car ride is tense, Haechan’s grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white. His eyes dart from the road to you, his jaw clenching as if he’s fighting an internal battle. You’re too shaken to speak, and the headache from your injury is dull but persistent. You try to ignore it, but the silence between you feels suffocating.

When you arrive, it’s not where you expected. It’s not the familiar abandoned farm or some quiet spot you can retreat to. No, this place is sleek, almost eerie—like it’s frozen in time, hidden away from the rest of the world. The house looms in front of you, dark windows reflecting the dim light of the street lamps.

He doesn’t say a word, but when you hesitate, his eyes lock onto yours, almost desperate.

“Please. Just come inside. I just... I just need you to let me take care of you.”

You blink in confusion, but something in his gaze makes you step out of the car and follow him to the door. You can’t explain it, but you trust him. Even though you know something’s off, something about him is different. And right now, you don’t know what else to do.

The door opens before he even knocks, revealing a dimly lit hallway and a sense of discomfort that hits you instantly. The air smells faintly of something... metallic, almost. The atmosphere is heavy, like something is watching you from the shadows.

Before you can even ask where you are, Haechan’s hand grips your wrist tightly, pulling you inside, and the door slams shut behind you.

A few guys are already there—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle—sitting on the couches, their expressions sharp as they see you. They glance between you and Haechan, and you can practically feel the tension rise. There’s something about their eyes, the way they’re looking at you, that makes you uncomfortable.

“Hyuck, what the hell are you doing?” Jaemin asks, his voice cold but laced with concern. “What’s going on?”

Haechan is a mess—sweat dripping down his forehead, his body trembling like he can’t control it. His hands are shaking as he pulls at his shirt, his eyes wild. “Can you just help her?” His voice cracks, and you can feel the desperation pouring off him. "Just help me."

The other guys exchange glances, but they don’t argue. Instead, Jaemin stands and walks toward you, his demeanor softening.

“You’re hurt. You need to sit down,” Jaemin says calmly, taking your arm gently. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

You feel like you’re floating as he gently guides you to sit on the sofa.

The room feels too small. The air is thick with tension, and you can’t help but watch as Haechan paces back and forth, his hands trembling at his sides. You’ve never seen him like this before. He looks... wrecked. There’s something unsettling about the way his eyes dart around, as if he’s on edge, like he’s trying to hold something back.

Jaemin is standing near the window, his brows furrowed as he watches Haechan closely. His hand hovers near his phone, as if he's debating calling someone, but before he can make a move, the door creaks open. Mark steps in, his presence immediately calming the room. He glances at you first, his eyes soft but guarded. Then, his attention shifts to Haechan, who freezes at the sight of him.

“Mark,” Jaemin says, his voice tight. “He’s not—he’s not good right now. It’s... it’s bad.”

Mark doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he steps further into the room, his eyes flicking between you and Haechan. The look on his face is unreadable, and he moves with an air of authority that quiets the room. He’s in charge here, even without saying a word.

Haechan’s breathing is shallow, and his eyes lock on Mark as if the mere sight of him is grounding him, just a little bit. But the frantic energy is still there, visible in the way he’s gripping the edges of the nearest table. “Help me, Mark,” he mutters, voice rough, like the words are clawing their way out of his chest. “I can’t—she’s so close, I can’t—I need her, I need to—”

“Hyuck, shut up,” Mark interrupts, his voice low but firm. He walks over to Haechan and places a hand on his shoulder, steering him away from the table. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Haechan freezes, the words hitting him like a slap. He looks at you for a split second—his eyes wild, confused, desperate. But Mark is there, pulling him away before he can get any closer. You’re not sure what to think, or what’s really going on, but you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

Jaemin steps closer to you, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to worry,” he says quietly, though there’s an underlying tension in his voice. “We’re just trying to help him. He’s... been going through something, and he’s not himself right now.”

You want to ask what’s really happening, but before you can, Mark cuts in. He doesn’t want to give anything away, and you can see it in the way he’s controlling the situation. “We’ll take care of him,” he says, his voice as calm as he can make it. “You don’t need to get involved.”

Haechan looks like he’s about to lose it again, his eyes flashing with something you can’t quite name. He seems so... torn. There’s a part of him that’s trying to fight whatever is inside him, but it’s so clear now that he’s struggling. And you can’t shake the feeling that whatever is going on, it’s something more than you’re seeing.

“I can’t... I can’t go back to how it was,” Haechan whispers, his voice almost lost in the room. He doesn’t seem to be speaking to anyone, just to himself. “I can’t.” He repeats, as if trying to soothe himself.

Mark doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he nods, as though trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We’ll figure it out. But you need to pull it together before you hurt her,” he says, his voice stern.

Then, he turns to Jaemin and you, his expression hardening. “Take her to another room,” he orders, voice calm but firm. “I need to keep him away from her until we get this under control.”

Jaemin doesn’t argue. He gently takes your arm, guiding you toward the door without another word. You glance back at Haechan one last time, and something in his eyes pulls at you, but you don’t have the chance to react. Jaemin shuts the door behind you.

Inside the room, you can hear Haechan’s frantic breathing getting louder, mixed with Mark’s calm but firm instructions. It’s clear they’re trying to hide something from you—and you can’t shake the feeling that it’s not just about Haechan’s emotional state. But whatever it is, they’re not letting you in on it.

You want to know what’s really going on. You want to understand what’s happening to him. But you’re starting to realize that, no matter how much you care about him, there are some things you’re never going to know.

You sit quietly in the car, the weight of the situation still settling over you like a thick fog. Jeno is driving, Jaemin sitting in the passenger seat. The silence between you all is thick and uncomfortable. You’re still trying to process everything that happened back at the house—Haechan’s erratic behavior, his trembling hands, the frantic way he kept looking at you as if he couldn’t control himself. You’ve never seen anyone like that before, and it unsettles you more than you can put into words.

Jaemin glances back at you, his voice soft but trying to reassure you. “He’s just... going through a tough time,” he says, his words careful, as though he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you. “It’s not like he’s always like that. He’s been under a lot of pressure lately.”

You nod slowly, though your mind is racing. You can’t stop thinking about the way Haechan looked at you, the desperate, almost tormented look in his eyes. What was going on with him? Why did he act like that? And why were they trying so hard to hide whatever was really happening?

You don’t speak again during the ride. You’re too lost in your own thoughts, and the unsettling feelings swirling inside of you only grow stronger as you get closer to home. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and the anxiety is starting to eat at you.

When they pull up to your house, Jaemin turns to you. “We’ll talk more later, okay?” he says, his voice calm, trying to soothe you, but it’s not enough. You’re too shaken to feel comforted right now.

You just nod again, muttering a quiet “Thanks,” before getting out of the car. You can still feel the strange weight of the night in your chest, and as you step inside your house, the sense of unease doesn’t leave.

You spend the rest of the night in your room, trying to distract yourself, but the thoughts of Haechan and his strange behavior keep resurfacing. Every time you close your eyes, you see his face—wild, desperate, almost unrecognizable in his struggle. It’s hard to shake the feeling that something isn’t right, and your heart sinks as you realize that whatever’s going on with him, you don’t know if you can handle it.

That night, sleep comes, albeit it fitfully. It’s filled with a nightmare that feels too real. You’re standing in a dark, empty room. It’s cold, and the walls feel like they’re closing in on you. And then you hear him—Haechan’s voice, low and almost... threatening.

You turn, but before you can move, he’s there. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, but it’s not him. Not the Haechan you know. He’s angry, wild, and you feel his hands on your arms, gripping you with a strength that’s too much, too much for you to break free from. His grip tightens, and you scream, but he doesn’t let go. The fear you feel in the dream is real, too real, and you wake up with a start, your breath shallow, heart racing in your chest.

You sit up in bed, your skin cold with sweat. The room is dark, and everything feels wrong. You can still hear his voice in your ears, feel the pressure of his hands on your skin, and you shiver. The nightmare lingers, the fear still gripping your chest, making it hard to breathe.

The morning after everything happened, you drive yourself to work. The ride is quiet, but your mind is a storm of thoughts. You can’t shake the image of Haechan’s face—the way he looked at you last night, desperate and frantic. The nightmare lingers like a shadow in the back of your mind, and you’re not sure which is worse: the vision of his hands on your arms in your dream or the fact that you don’t know what’s real anymore.

You turn the key in the ignition and start your car, the engine humming to life, but it feels like everything around you is in slow motion. You still can’t seem to shake the feeling of being watched, like Haechan’s presence is hovering just behind you, pulling you into his orbit. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and you try to focus on the road ahead, pushing away the feelings of dread.

The hum of the engine is almost soothing, but it doesn’t stop the nervous tension in your chest or the pounding. As you drive, you think back to your parents, how they didn’t miss the change in your mood. You can feel their worried glances from the moment they saw you this morning, having arrived home late in the night, after you had already surrendered to sleep. They know something’s wrong, and it’s only a matter of time before they ask.

When you pull into your driveway after work, you’re relieved to be home. But as you step inside, your mother’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

“You’re home late,” she says, sounding concerned. “And you look... shaken up. What happened, honey?”

You swallow hard, trying to hide the unease still lingering inside you. “Nothing, Mom. Just a long day,” you lie, but your voice is too tight for her not to notice.

She walks over, setting a hand on your shoulder, looking you up and down like she’s trying to see through the mask you’re wearing. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks, her voice soft but insistent. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine, really. Just tired, that’s all.”

Your dad walks into the room then, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. “You look pale,” he observes. “Like something’s bothering you. Did something happen at work? Or... is it about that boy? Haechan, right?”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name. You can’t look them in the eye. “I’m fine, Dad. It’s just... I’m not feeling too great.”

They exchange a look, one you can’t quite place, but you know they’re worried. And it’s not just because of your sudden change in mood. They’re worried about something else.

“Has he been bothering you?” your dad asks, his voice low but laced with concern. “That boy... Haechan. He’s always been nice, but you’ve been spending a lot of time with him. Has he done anything that made you uncomfortable?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. The last thing you want to do is talk about what happened, but you can’t lie to them either. You’re so tired of pretending like everything is fine. But you also can’t bring yourself to tell them the truth—not the whole truth. Not yet.

“I... I don’t know,” you admit, your voice shaking. “He just... he’s been acting weird. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but something’s off. Last night, I—” You stop, biting your lip, trying to hold it together. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”

Your mom pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “We’re here for you, sweetheart,” she says, her voice gentle. “But if you feel like something’s wrong, you need to let us know. You don’t have to keep it to yourself.”

You nod against her shoulder, unable to speak. You want to tell them everything—the truth about Haechan, what happened the night before, how terrified you felt in that moment. But you don’t. You don’t know how.

Later that night, you can feel your parents’ eyes on you as they discuss what’s going on. You hear bits and pieces of their conversation from your room—how they don’t trust Haechan, how worried they are about you being around him, and how they think you should stay away from him for your own safety.

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling more isolated than ever. You should have been scared, but the truth is, you don’t know what you feel anymore. You’re confused, lost, and you just want to forget it all.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, a message from Haechan. It’s a simple, “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about earlier.”

But you don’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to explain that you’re scared of him, and that you’re not sure why.

You feel your heart heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

You’ve been avoiding him.

It’s hard to do, considering how often you bump into him when you leave work, when you’re at the store, when you’re just out trying to live your life. But you’re doing it. For your own sanity, you’re keeping distance, and it’s making you anxious too. You can’t escape the nightmares and the visions of him in pain—and the overwhelming urge to help him. But something’s off. You can feel it in your bones.

The more you avoid him, the more anxious you become. But every time you see a message from him, your heart drops. What is it? Why is it that, despite being scared of him, you can’t seem to stop missing him?

Little do you know, he’s just as anxious without you around.

Every night, he finds himself staring at his phone, waiting for a message that doesn’t come. The loneliness gnaws at him like a hunger, and it’s not a hunger he can satisfy. He knows something’s wrong with him, but he can’t quite put it into words. He’s starting to lose control of his thoughts—his need for you growing sharper with each passing day. There’s no explanation for it. No reason why he feels this empty. But the truth is, he can’t stand being apart from you.

One evening, as Haechan paces around the house, restless, Mark notices.

“You’re a mess,” Mark comments, leaning against the doorframe of the room where Haechan is pacing back and forth. “If you keep this up, you’re going to crack.”

Haechan glances up, the exhaustion and anxiety clear in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” he admits, the words falling from his lips like they’ve been waiting to be said for far too long.

Mark stays quiet for a moment, taking in Haechan’s state. “You’re obsessed,” he mutters.

“I’m not obsessed,” Haechan snaps back. “I—I need her, Mark. I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t—” He cuts himself off, his voice breaking. “I think she’s my mate. She’s... the one.”

Mark’s eyes widen slightly, but his expression doesn’t change. He’s heard of this before—vampires finding their mates, that one person who becomes everything to them. It’s rare, but it happens. And when it does, it’s all-consuming.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Mark says, though there’s no malice in his voice—just disbelief. “You’re saying you think she’s... the one? Like, the one-one?”

Haechan nods, his chest tightening. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s... it’s different. I know it doesn’t make sense, but she’s... I’m empty without her.”

Mark rubs his temples, his own frustration evident. “This is a mess, Haechan. You’re scaring her. And if she finds out you’re keeping tabs on her, she’s going to run from you for good. You need to talk to her.”

“But what if—what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Haechan’s voice cracks. “I can’t lose her. I—” He swallows, his hands shaking slightly. “I need to see her. I need to talk to her. I have to make her understand.”

Mark steps forward, placing a hand on Haechan’s shoulder, his grip firm but supportive. “Then go talk to her. But you have to do it right. No more creeping around in the shadows. No more avoiding her. If she’s your mate, you have to let her decide, too. But you have to be honest with her. No more hiding.”

Haechan nods, a weight settling in his chest. He knows Mark is right, but the thought of facing you, of telling you everything, terrifies him. He’s never felt this vulnerable in his life.

“I don’t want to scare her,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I get it,” Mark says, his expression softening. “But you can’t keep running from it. If she’s really the one... you can’t hide from her forever.”

The next day, Haechan finally decides to take Mark’s advice.

He drives to the cafe you’re always at after work. He parks across the street, watching you through the window, trying to steady his nerves. His hands are sweaty on the wheel, his heart hammering in his chest. What if you don’t understand? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He watches you for a long while, and then, as if on cue, you glance up and meet his gaze through the glass. Your eyes widen in surprise, but before he can wave or approach, you look away, clearly uncomfortable.

He feels a sharp pang in his chest, the space between them growing ever wider. No more running.

Taking a deep breath, he steps out of the car and walks across the street, determination pushing him forward. He reaches the door to the cafe and pauses just before entering. He looks at you again, and this time, when your eyes meet, there’s no hesitation.

You stand up from your seat, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you is thick with unspoken words.

“I... I need to talk to you,” Haechan finally says, his voice rough but steady.

You blink, looking at him in confusion, but you nod. “Okay,” you say softly, not sure what to expect.

Haechan swallows, gathering every last bit of courage. “I’ve been... avoiding you. And I know you’ve been avoiding me, too. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you. You... You’re not just anyone to me.”

Your heart skips a beat as you watch his expression soften, his vulnerability clear in his eyes. “I need you, more than you know,” he says, and even though it sounds insane, he means it with everything in him.

You stare at him, too stunned to speak, trying to process what he just said. You don’t know what to say, how to respond. 

You’re lost in the chaos of your thoughts when he speaks again, softer this time, almost pleading. “Please, just listen to me. I’ve never felt like this before, not with anyone. You’re... everything to me.”

You search his eyes, looking for some sign that this is some cruel prank. “We barely know each other, Haechan, you sound crazy.”

Haechan’s face falls at your words, but he doesn’t retreat. His eyes are full of emotion—vulnerability, desperation, and a deep sense of yearning that you can’t ignore. He steps closer, his voice trembling with sincerity. “I know how it sounds. But I swear, I’m not joking. I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You back away slightly, heart racing. This doesn’t feel real. You’ve known him for only a short time, and yet, here he is, spilling his soul in front of you, and you’re left trying to understand what he means.

“I get that this is... overwhelming,” Haechan continues, his voice raw. “But I need you to understand—I’ve been running from this. From you. Because I was scared. Scared of how much you mean to me, scared that you might think I’m some kind of monster. But I can’t run anymore.”

You blink, trying to process everything. “Monster? What are you—”

“I’m a vampire,” he cuts in quickly, his words coming out in a rush. “And so are the others—the ones you met. I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I can’t keep lying to you. You have to know the truth.”

Your mouth goes dry. A vampire? You think it’s some kind of twisted joke, your mind scrambling to come up with a response. But when you look into his eyes, there’s no trace of humor, no playful glint. He’s serious. He’s telling you the truth.

“No way,” you whisper, shaking your head. “That’s... that’s impossible.”

“I know,” he murmurs, taking a hesitant step closer. “It sounds insane. But everything about this, about us, is real. The pull you’ve felt, the connection—it’s not in your head. It’s because you’re... you’re my mate.”

You freeze at his words, your mind going blank. Mate. It’s a word that doesn’t belong in your reality. How could it? How could he be saying this to you? How could you be his?

“I don’t... I don’t understand,” you whisper, the words barely leaving your mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to be scared of me, but hiding it from you, keeping this from you... it’s been tearing me apart. I need you to understand. You’re not just anyone to me. You’re everything.”

You can’t think straight, your heart beating erratically in your chest. You want to run. You want to scream. You want to slam the door in his face and pretend none of this ever happened. But something—something—keeps you standing there, frozen, listening.

“Is it true?” you ask, barely able to keep your voice steady. “What you said about being your mate... do you really mean that?”

Haechan nods slowly, the rawness in his eyes never leaving. “Yes. I do. And... I know this is crazy, but I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. You’re the one I’m meant to be with. And I know it’s all happening too fast, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”

You swallow, feeling your throat tighten. You want to push him away, but the truth is—you can’t. You feel it too. That strange pull. That undeniable connection. Even though everything in you is screaming to run, to walk away from him and everything he’s telling you, a small part of you wants to stay.

“But... what does that mean?” you whisper. “What does it mean for us?”

Haechan takes another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It means that I need you. And I know this is a lot for you to take in. But you feel it too, don’t you? You’ve felt the pull. You’ve felt what’s between us. I can’t pretend anymore. You’re my mate, and that’s something I can’t deny.”

You feel your heart race at his words, but your mind refuses to catch up. You’re still trying to grasp what he’s telling you. “I don’t know what to do with this, Haechan. I don’t know how to... handle this.”

“I understand,” he says softly. “I didn’t expect you to just accept it. I’m not asking you to decide right now, but please... don’t shut me out. Please, don’t make me lose you.”

You stand there in silence, the weight of his words sinking in. Your heart aches, your mind spinning. You want to believe him, you want to make sense of everything he’s saying, but the truth is, you feel like you’re drowning.

“I... I need time,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I need to think about everything. I can’t just... I can’t just jump into this.”

Haechan’s face falls, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “I’ll give you all the time you need. Just... don’t forget that I’m here. I’ll wait for you, no matter what.”

You nod slowly, your chest tight with the weight of everything. The space between you feels suffocating, yet you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

As Haechan turns to leave, you feel the sting of something you can’t name. You don’t know where this will go, or if you even want it to, but part of you knows—no matter how much you try to push it away, this thing between you two isn’t something you can ignore forever.

Haechan had never felt so isolated.

The moment you told him you needed space, a crack formed in his chest, widening with every minute that passed without you. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, tried to convince himself that it was for the best. He didn't deserve you—not after everything he’d kept hidden, not after he’d shown you the truth of what he was. But it didn’t stop the hurt.

So, he did what he always did when things got too hard: he locked himself in his room, away from the world, away from the other guys. He could feel the tension in his bones, a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach, but it wasn’t the kind that could be filled with food. It was you. He wanted you more than he wanted anything else.

For days, he didn't leave. He didn’t eat. His thoughts were consumed by you—by the way you’d looked at him when you said you needed space, the mix of fear, confusion, and something else. You didn’t understand him, not really, and it hurt more than anything. He could still see the way you’d looked at him when he confessed. He had been so sure. But now, sitting in his dimly lit room, he wasn't so certain anymore.

Meanwhile, you weren't faring much better.

You missed him. That was the truth of it. You hated how much you missed him. Every night, you lay awake, the silence of your room pressing in on you, as your mind replayed the last time you saw him. You wanted to hate him for what he’d done, for the secrets, for everything, but you couldn’t. You still felt that pull toward him, that inexplicable attraction that gnawed at you when you were awake and haunted your dreams when you slept.

The dreams had taken a turn, and you couldn't quite explain it. You would dream of Haechan—only this time, he wasn’t the monster you feared he was. Instead, he was tender, soft in a way you hadn’t expected. He would hold you, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe, loved even. In the dreams, he wasn’t hiding anything from you. He laid himself bare in front of you, the words spilling out of his mouth in whispered confessions of how much he cared for you, how much he needed you.

You woke from those dreams more than once, your chest tight, your heart pounding, and your mind spinning with thoughts of him. How could you move forward after everything he’d said? You couldn't just pretend like things were normal again. But at the same time, you missed him more than you cared to admit.

Then one night, as you were finishing your shift, you spotted them.

The guys. Standing outside the hospital, looking like they were waiting for something, or someone. Your heart skipped a beat, and the air felt heavier. You couldn’t stop yourself from walking over to the door and pushing it open, a quiet curiosity drawing you toward them.

They looked at you with a mixture of urgency and hesitation, but it was Jeno who stepped forward, his expression serious.

“You need to come with us,” Jeno said, his voice a little softer than usual. “Haechan’s been... he’s been falling apart. He won’t talk to anyone, and he can’t stop thinking about you. He needs you, Y/N. Please. He’s suffering.”

You could feel the heat rush to your face, your heart clenching. Haechan had been suffering? The thought of him like that twisted something deep in your chest. It was clear he wasn’t handling everything well, and as much as you hated to admit it, neither were you.

“I don’t know...” You swallowed thickly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know if I can just—”

“Please,” Jeno interrupted, his gaze softening. “He’s in a bad place, and he won’t get better unless you see him. We’re not asking you to fix everything. We just want you to see him, to talk to him. He needs you more than you know.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the weight of it all pressing down on you. You wanted to say no. You wanted to keep your distance, to protect yourself from whatever hurt might be waiting for you. But the truth was, you couldn't bear the thought of him being alone in his pain, not after everything he’d shared with you.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go.”

The drive to his place felt like it took forever.

You stared out the window, your thoughts a jumbled mess of uncertainty, confusion, and the remnants of something that might have been affection. The other guys didn't say much as they drove, their presence quiet but comforting in its own way. You could feel the tension radiating off of them, but they didn't push you, didn't ask anything more than what they had already said.

When you finally arrived at the house, your heart pounded in your chest. You hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the car, your legs shaky. As you walked inside, you found yourself wondering if you were making the right choice.

You cautiously made your way up the stairs towards the room Mark had pointed out to you. Once you reach it, you stand perfectly still, debating on if you should even knock.

And then the door opened.

Haechan stood in the doorway, his usual cocky smile nowhere to be found. He looked different—drained, like he hadn’t been sleeping or eating. His eyes were tired, and he wore the kind of expression that made your heart ache in a way you couldn’t explain.

“You came,” he said, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. It felt like a lifetime ago that you had last seen him, and now, standing in front of him, you didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your emotions at war with each other. He looked at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to read you, to figure out what you were feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I never should’ve kept this from you. I... I didn’t want to scare you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You shook your head, your chest tight. “You scared me, Haechan,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t know what to believe.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I need you to know... I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I didn’t know how to handle this, how to explain what I am.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process everything. “You’re a vampire,” you said, the words tasting strange on your tongue. “How am I supposed to handle that? How do I trust you after everything?”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, his voice full of guilt. “But I need you to understand something... You’re not just anyone to me. You’re... everything. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. You had wanted to hate him, wanted to push him away, but something in the way he looked at you, something in the way he sounded, made it impossible to deny that there was something real between you.

“You’re my mate,” he whispered, his eyes shining with a mixture of hope and fear.

You took a shaky breath, your heart racing. "You... You think I’m your mate?"

“I know you feel it too,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t expect you to understand all at once, but I can’t deny it anymore. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for. I don’t want to lose you.”

You closed your eyes, feeling a flood of emotions, a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else—something that you couldn't ignore. You didn’t know how to move forward, but you knew one thing: you couldn’t stay away from him anymore.

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

Haechan nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’m scared too. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Tentatively, you stepped into his arms, your body pressing against his cold, hard frame. The relief that washed over him was almost palpable, and for a brief moment, he almost crumpled under the weight of it.

But then, something shifted in him. The scent of you, so close, was intoxicating, and your proximity was making everything more intense. He suddenly became hyper-aware of how long it had been since he’d eaten. His hunger had never felt sharper.

You felt the change in him immediately. His body stiffened, his breathing shallow as he pulled away slightly, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, voice soft but filled with concern. You studied his face, your fingers grazing over his features in a gentle search for answers.

His face flushed, and he quickly looked away. “Nothing,” he said quickly, but his voice was strained, almost panicked. “It’s just... I’m just happy I can finally hold you.”

But you weren’t convinced. Your brow furrowed, a mix of concern and frustration crossing your face. “When was the last time you ate? Or—drank, I guess.”

There was a pause, a moment where he weighed his options, wondering if he could lie to you. But when he saw the genuine worry on your face, the possibility of keeping the truth from you vanished.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his words muffled but heavy. “The night before I last saw you,” he mumbled, as though he was ashamed.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you pushed him gently away, a frown tugging at your lips. “That was almost a week ago! Haechan, why haven’t you eaten?”

He lowered his gaze, looking almost childlike, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. “I thought you were rejecting me,” he confessed quietly, the words laced with vulnerability. “I didn’t think I deserved to... I didn’t want to take anything from you.”

You sighed, exasperation mixed with tenderness. “You starved yourself for a week over this? You’re crazy,” you said with a soft laugh. “I’m flattered, I guess, but seriously, you need to take care of yourself.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his hands tightening around you, pulling you closer. “Just a little longer... Please, I just need to be with you. I need to hold you.”

Your heart ached for him, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him as best as you could. “Haechan...”

A hesitant silence hung between you, and then, almost in a whisper, you asked, “Would—would it help if you drank from me?”

You cringed slightly as the words left your mouth, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the awkwardness of the request.

You felt him smile against your skin, his breath warm against your neck as he chuckled softly. “Are you serious? You really don’t have to... I can get it somewhere else,” he teased, his voice low and gentle, but there was an underlying note of something else in it—gratitude, longing.

But still, your heart pounded in your chest, unsure of what to do next.

You hesitated for only a moment before finding the courage to speak again, your voice softer this time, filled with a quiet resolve. “If we’re together, you can drink from me. I trust you.”

Haechan’s body tensed at your words, his heart racing in his chest. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze searching yours for any trace of doubt. When he saw none, he slowly nodded, his lips curving into a soft, almost sad smile.

He adjusted you carefully, his hands gentle as he tilted your head slightly to the side, exposing the sensitive pulse point at your neck. His breath tickled your skin, and you could feel the heat of his body, the tension in him as he hovered, his mouth dangerously close to your skin.

You could hear him whispering softly, but the words were too faint to make out, lost in the hum of your own heartbeat. The sound of him so close, so intimate, made you shiver with anticipation and a strange sense of comfort.

Then, as if to steady himself, Haechan pressed a soft kiss to the spot where your pulse beat the strongest. The tenderness of the gesture made your breath catch in your throat. And without warning, his lips parted, and you felt the sharp sting as his fangs pierced your skin.

For a brief second, there was only pain, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by an overwhelming wave of warmth that spread throughout your body. It was as though the world shifted, your senses heightened in a way you never thought possible. A pleasant tingling ran down your spine, making you feel lightheaded, and yet... anchored at the same time.

Haechan’s grip on you tightened slightly, but his touch remained gentle, as if trying to soothe you through the intensity of the moment. His mouth moved with slow, careful precision, drawing from you in quiet, almost reverent pulls. Each motion sent another surge of warmth flooding through you, and despite the strange circumstances, despite everything, you felt connected to him in a way you couldn't explain.

As his fangs withdrew, there was an ache, but it was nothing compared to the sensation that had built up within you. He licked at the small wound, his touch soft and tender, as though apologizing for the intrusion.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were darker than before, but there was a new softness in his gaze, an emotion you couldn't quite place. He caressed your cheek, his touch lingering as he whispered, “Thank you... I’ll never hurt you, I promise.”

You closed your eyes, the warmth of his words wrapping around you just as much as the warmth still blooming in your veins. “I know,” you murmured, your voice shaky but certain. “I trust you, Haechan.”

And in that moment, despite all the fear, all the uncertainty, there was something undeniably real between you both. Something that neither of you could deny.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

author's note 𝟅𝟈 wow omg this one is so long. its also so bad but i rewatched twilight and had to write this. might write a continuation later on, possibly smut

masterlist.

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me(part 8)- Matt Sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

summary- matt has always hated your guts, but everything changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains- vampire!matt x reader, enemies to lovers, SMUT, themes of death, dark themes, high school au! (18 yrs old)

A/n: I'm going to write this in second person because I feel like it's easier for smut idk. im a new writer lol

"I dont know matt, I feel pretty hot!" you say as he pulls into his driveway. paranoia swept through you as you thought of going into heat and every little change in temperature had you worried. after all, the first symptom of being in heat is feeling hot all over, according to Matthew who is doing nothing to calm your nerves. instead he rolls his eyes at you much to your annoyance.

"its because I turned the car off y/n." he stares into your eyes before continuing. "look I don't want to scare you more than you CLEARLY already are but-

"Okay then maybe don't say it." you give him a fake smile gesturing to your head. ignorance is bliss, and you almost wish he didn't tell you anything about heat at all. he could have just let it happen but noooo. now its all you can think about.

"you don't have to be nervous. I said I'd take care of you didn't I?" matt says indignantly as you and him walk out the door. he slams his car door and puts his hand on your forehead. "you feel fine, so do me a favor and shut up." your about to roll your eyes but his next words stop you. "when the time comes, I will fuck the shit out of you and you'll go back to normal. got that?" he says it so casually like you and him were just going to take a stroll around the neighborhood. even so your thighs clench together and your body heats up. if this is already how I respond to him, how the fuck is it going to feel intensified ten fold. you think to yourself. as you and matt walk through the front door, your thoughts go to the gutter. you think about the way he's going to fuck your aching cunt so hard and fast. how he's going to fill you up so nice.

suddenly its not just hot any more, its burning. there's a pressure in your core so strong it feels like your going to pass out.

matt turns to you slowly and watches as you grip the wall, your body giving out. he walks over to you briskly and picks you up and into his arms. pathetically, you moan at the very non-sexual contact, but were so hot you couldn't even think to be embarrassed. you look up to see matt, and his eyes show his concern but also his lust. "matt" you whimper and his eyes start to shift from blue to a color so dark it almost looks black. you squirm to relieve some of the ache between your legs at the site. normally, it would scare you but nothing could scare you away from him right now. not when he has everything you need.

"I know, baby." he coos, moving the hair off of your already sweaty forehead. " I can smell you" he says as he carries you off into his room. he sets you on the bed and you whine at the loss of contact, your body heat flaring even hotter from the lack of contact. no wonder they call this thing a "heat".

"matt! please touch me, I need you!" you almost cry. he immediately reaches for your thigh running his hands up and down on it soothingly. your body relaxes slightly, but your cunt practically leaks at the simple touch. you can feel a puddle start to form underneath your butt, your underwear completely soaked. "shit" he breathes out shakily. "making a mess on my bed already" he says in a husky deeper tone. a tone similar to the one from when he found you and kit two days before. a tone that revealed the monster in him was about to take the reigns. his veins turn black as ink like they did before and he sniffs the air heavily. "fuck!" he groans at the smell of your arousal. suddenly your on his lap facing down with your ass up in seconds. "gonna stretch you out first." he says gruffly as if he was holding himself back from fucking you into his mattress right now. he runs his hand up and down your slit collecting your juices before putting it in his mouth. your hips jerk like crazy in response trying to recreate the pleasure from matts simple touch. without his touch, your pussy felt like it was literally on fire. "matt do something, please! fuck me already!" you whine desperately tears already streaming down your face. he slaps your ass hard and you moan out from the pain and pleasure. he grabs your throat and slaps your ass again eliciting another moan from you before leaning down. "shut up, brat. I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want to you, whenever I want to do it. do you understand?" he says lowly into your ear and your legs shake from the display of dominance. his words ring through your head and just like that your cumming, hard. you hadn't even been touched but you were screaming Matt's name and writhing as if he had just given you the best time of your life. matt freezes in shock from what just happened, but when he processes it he laughs. "coming undone from just words, sweetheart? didn't know you had it in you" he smirks and you start to feel his hard and throbbing dick through his jeans. you couldn't even begin to speak as you continue to ride your high as you writhe against him uncontrollably. your stomach strokes his cock everytime you move and he lets out a deep groan.

finally you come down from your high, but even though you just had an orgasm it did nothing to suffice the pressure in your core, in fact, it intensified even more. "it hurts, it hurts, it hurts" you cry as you go limp on his lap. "I know, baby, I know" matt rubs your back before flipping you over onto your back. he pulls his dick out of his pants quickly and lines himself up. you ogle at his dick and moan at the sheer size of it. matt grabs your chin and makes you look away from down there to his eyes.

"I was going to stretch you out, but fuck I don't think I can wait anymore. and something tells me you don't want to either." he says before pushing into you completely never losing eye contact with you. his eyes go from the dark blue to bright red and his fangs protrude when he feels you around him. your cunt tightens at the sight and he hisses out in pleasure. "gripping me like a vice, you like having a monster take you?" he grips your throat demanding an answer but your too far gone to even think of an answer. all you can think about is that you want him to move. his cock was nestles inside you but it wasn't enough. you try to move your hips in hopes of a little friction but his other hand grabs at your hips stopping all your movements completely. "do you?" he repeats his tone darker than you ever heard it before.

"yes!" your pitch raises "now please." you whine, heat all consuming. “good fucking girl” he breathes out before starting a brutal pace and going deeper than anyones ever been before. your muling and shaking uncontrollably in minutes and matts groans only add fuel to your fire. “yeah take it just like that. fuck, ur making me feel so good” he groans out and your cunt starts to spasm around him. he grabs your hand and presses it into the matress and you look up at his dangerous red eyes.

“your close, i can feel it. let go with me baby” he growls and you immediately come undone. your orgasm explodes out of you and you start to squirt uncontrollably on his dick. “fuck” matt moans before spilling all his cum into you. you orgasm again from the feeling of being filled up and he hisses at the overstimulation. finally, the haze you had been in lifts a little and settles into something manageable.

wordlessly, matt pulls you into him and your body relaxes even further. he kisses your temple and sighs when he sees your dropping eyes. a warmth spreads in his chest at your vulnerable state. a state no one would see but him. a state you would only let him help you with. just when it looks like your going to fall asleep on his chest, you shoot up slightly, maintaining your tired expression.

“mmm, wheres chris?” you sigh looking matt directly in the eyes.

matts pov.

what. the. fuck.

why is she thinking about chris right now when I am right here. when i’m the only one she should be thinking of. anger ripples through me even as i stare at her beautiful face, so i clench my jaw and walk out the door despite her protest. her heat should be under control now, so i don’t want to disturb the peace she can finally feel with a big argument. i desperately look for a distraction for the rejection i somehow feel, when suddenly i know the perfect option. i instantly open madi’s contact. she’d love to know how y/n’s doing and i know how much she LOVES knowing tmi shit. after three rings she picks up and smirk knowing shes going to want to know ALL the details. instead i am met with a cautious voice on the other side of the phone.

“hey matt” she says as if theres something shes not telling me. “hey?” i answer confused by her strange tone. she takes a deep breath and thats how i know shes thinking of a good way to say something. she wants to tell me something but she doesn’t know how. what the fuck is she hiding? i stay silent and patiently wait for her to continue and have my unspoken question answered. she takes the hint

“so you know how chris got the same spell you guys did??” her voice raises in pitch and if i had a pulse it would have raced. this is the second time chris’ name has come up in unexpected ways.

“yes..” i say skeptically.

“and you know that i was actually able to get rid of the bond entirely bc it was so weak right?” i roll my eyes, gripping my phone and tired of her dancing around the point.

“yes, madi. what the fuck do i need to know that your not telling me.” i spit out.

“a new mate has been given to him”she says like shes bearing bad news. and my mind wanders. this is supposed to be a GOOD thing. he finally found a mate he can actually be with and care about the way he’s always wanted too. out of all three of us, chris has always been the most fascinated by the concept of mates. he was slightly terrified but slightly interested in the concept of being consumed by love. a love that is mutual. and now he can finally have it, and yet it feels like somethings wrong. and then it clicks and my breathing stops. i have a horrible thought and her words ripple through my head.

“where’s chris?”

a woman in heat is ONLY able to think of her mate and no one else. its one of the first things vampires and witches are taught about the overwhelming experience women have to go through when they are mated. my mind connects the dots before she even finishes. rage and loss pours into me in gallons.

“its y/n” she says before the front door opens. chris walks in, his eyes searching the house to find the only girl i ever wanted to call mine and mine alone.

bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@l3an

@chriwssv4amp

@sturnslimited

@minhlajenni

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 14

part 1 | part 13 | ao3

fuckin' finally some FLUFF

Dinner is awkward.

It’s awkward, Steve thinks as he spears a Brussels sprout with more force than strictly necessary, because Dustin promised that it was just going to be the three of them tonight, and now he’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with his leather-clad metalhead neighbor.

It went like this: Steve showed up at the Henderson’s front door with a pie plate and a two-liter of Grapico under his arm, looking like a dork on picture day in his best jeans and a nice polo with his hair actually combed for once, and he lifted his hand to knock only to be greeted by Eddie throwing the door open and hollering, “Be right back, Henderson! Gotta grab— oh, shit.” 

And then, more eloquently, “Uh…” 

Uh. Like Steve was the one unexpectedly crashing the party.

Steve stabs another sprout. 

They’ve been bumbling through stilted small talk about work and school and weekend plans for what feels like a painfully long time, and Eddie has his elbows on the table — didn’t even bother to take his jacket off because he was apparently raised in a barn — and it’s basically dinner with Barb’s parents all over again. 

This is finger-lickin’ good.  

God. Get him out of here.

“Okay,” Dustin cuts through the stalled-out silence in the room. He jabs an accusatory fork into the air, pointing between the two of them and narrowing his eyes. “You two are being weird.” 

Eddie startles dumbly, and Steve just says, “Hmm?”

“You.” He aims the fork at Steve. “Are being.” It moves to Eddie; back to Steve. “Weird. What’s going on? I thought you two were getting along now.” 

Steve dabs his mouth with his napkin. Wow. Okay. So they’re doing this now.

Eddie either doesn’t get the memo or just decides to rip it up, because instead of being honest he throws on a theatrical smile and flings an arm around Steve’s shoulders, proclaiming, “Of course we are! C’monnn. Me and this guy?” He reaches up to give Steve a gentle noogie. Steve wonders if you can get a more lenient sentence if the guy you murdered really, really deserved it. “Thick as thieves.” 

Claudia smiles fondly.

Dustin’s not buying it. “You’re so full of shit, you know that?”

“Dusty!” Claudia gasps. She gives him a stern look as she tops off her wine glass, then leans over to do the same for Steve and Eddie’s glasses, too. “Stevie, honey, don’t listen to him,” she soothes. “I think it’s sweet. It’s good to see you with some boyfriends your own age.”

Dustin chokes at her word choice, and Steve blushes to his ears. 

Eddie’s arm tightens around his shoulders. “Yeah, Stevie,” he smirks, leaning in a little closer. “We’re great boyfriends, aren’t we?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin joins in, “best boyfriends I’ve ever seen.” 

Surely murder’s just murder, right? Like, from a sentencing perspective? Does it matter how many people you off, or do you just get thirty-to-life regardless?

“Steve, tell mom more about your boyfriend.”

Steve chugs his glass of wine.

—

The conversation turns to less embarrassing topics after that, the words flowing more easily now that everyone’s warmed up with wine and making fun of Steve. Claudia asks what everyone’s doing for Halloween, and Dustin tells her that Eddie and Steve are taking the boys trick-or-treating in the neighborhood with the good candy bars (which was news to Steve, goddammit), and that leads to a discussion of costume plans. 

Dustin and Mike are going as a pair again, Marty and Doc from Back to the Future. Lucas is doing his own thing, but he's "totally delusional if he thinks a costume is gonna win Max back." Steve doesn’t really have a costume this year, so he’ll probably just pull some sweats out of the closet, throw a whistle around his neck and go as a basketball coach, and Eddie, surprisingly, has the lowest effort costume of them all. 

“Oh, I’m going as a vampire,” he says when Claudia asks. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out some cheap plastic teeth and pops them into his mouth. “Ta-daaa.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “You just carry those around?” 

“Isn’t it awesome?” Dustin asks.

“Not really, no. It’s not.” 

“But S’theeeve,” Eddie lisps around the fangs. The wine’s made him weirder, playful and too-friendly and berry pink in the cheeks. He holds his sleeve in front of his face like a vampire hiding behind a cape and drawls, “I vant to s’thuck your bloood.”

Steve vants to jump out the window. “I’m gonna go serve the pie.” 

—

part 15

tags below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow 🩷

@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @ppunkpuppyy @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @steddieas-shegoes @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @teatimeeverybody @thealwithnoname @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve

[osleeplessflowero]

Oneshot Masterpost

A collection of my oneshots! Series gradually being updated. These links are specific to Tumblr, BUT I have also posted quite a few of these on my Ao3! I also have fics on there, which I will also be making a masterpost for + uploading the chapters to tumblr.

🏡Neighborhood Series🏡

A series of randomized oneshots that take place in the same universe, a timeline where the skeleton duos all live in their own houses in a singular neighborhood.

In order(with links attached):

{Lore Related v}

🌠Stargazing (Classic Sans! First oneshot I wrote.)🔭

✨Back To You (Also Classic Sans, takes place a little bit after the former.)💤

🎸Concert Night (Fell!Sans)🎵

🌨️Sans and Red have a talk.❄️

{Out Of Order/Bonus Content v}

🏍Stress Relief (Fell/Red! I need to write him again..)💢

📻Close (Blue/Reader) [I don't really like this one that much anymore but I'll keep it up for any that do]🎵

🏖Beach Day (Swap Bros!)🌊

☕️Relax. (Fell Papyrus/Edge!)❄️

🌃Late Night Walk (Rus/Reader)🛹

🪓Scare Actor!Horror🎃

A series mainly themed for Halloween where Reader has a chance encounter with Horror while going to a Haunted House with their partner. Takes place in a Post-Pacifist Horrortale timeline, so Horror goes by Sans.

Part 1: Scares and a Sudden Friendship🎃🪓

Part 2: Coffee Hangout☕

Part 3: New Experiences // Meeting Papyrus!🥄

📖Fairytale Series🪄

A series of miscellaneous fairytale-based scenarios featuring your favorite skeletons. Some may have connections to others!

🗡️Assassin!Red/Mage!Reader🪄

⚔️Knight!Blue/Reader🎶

👑King!Nightmare/Ruler!Reader(Start of a Bad Sanses series)💢

🌹King!Dream/Ruler!Reader (An alternate timeline to the former concept)🪄

🤠Cowboy!Stretch🐎

An AU where Stretch and Blue live on a ranch and work as cowboys. The other skeletons ARE present in other areas, but this mainly just focuses on Stretch and his growing relationship with Reader. Could be considered Farmtale inspired.

🥃Part 1: howdy.🍯

🐴Part 2: Going for a ride🏇

💚Nightmare/Multiverse Traveler!Reader✨

An endless(?) game of Cat and Mouse, where Nightmare chases Reader across the Multiverse in order to finally be with them. Mutual pining, we love to see it!!

🎭Part 1: Chasing🌌

🌺Part 2: Blooms. (Angst)🥀

🖤Bad Sanses Shenanigans🔪

A collection of scenarios with everybody's favorite villains.

🎃Pumpkin Carving! (was originally a part of a now cancelled Halloween writing challenge series.)🔪

☃️Snow Day! (Christmas Special)🌨

🛌Sleepover!💕

🛝i'm here. (Dust Comfort)💜

🔪"Knife" To Meet'cha (Killer/Reader #1)🍻

🌹Falling For Ya (Killer/Reader #2(?) ) 🌃

🔒Cornered (Dust/Reader) (Kinda steamy)💜

🌌Alone With You (Dust/Reader)💕

AmalgaMATE

A scenario where Reader is an amalgamate of several different Reader souls, and is hopelessly in love with Science/Classic? Sans.

🧪Part 1: me and the amalgamate i pulled by being a punny guy 🔒

🤍Part 2: Soulmates?!🤍

Standalone Oneshots

Oneshots that haven't been made into series yet/are intended to be by themselves.

☔️Chance Encounter (Dream/Reader)🚍

🎶Dream/Fem Reader (Requested)🌳

💌Messages + Confessions (Error/Reader)📄

🛍First Meeting (Fell Papyrus/Edge!/Fem Reader)🐾 (Requested)

🫧Into The Sea (Merman!Blue/Reader)🌊

☕Home (Cross/Reader)🏠 (Requested)

Star Sanses HQ Shenanigans(Star Sanses & Reader [Platonic]) (Requested)

Flirting With Death (Reaper/Immune!Reader) (Requested)

🎡Carnival Date (Classic!Papyrus/Reader) (Requested)🧣

😱Frightening New Friend (Horror!Papyrus & Reader)🎃 [Halloween Special]

🌊A Light In The Depths (Mer!Nightmare/Reader)🤿

😳Crushing (Cross x Swap Universe!Reader) (Requested)💜

🛞Immune (Siren!Nightmare/Reader)⛵

🩹(Platonic)Fell Sans & Reader Hurt/Comfort (Requested)❤️‍🩹

🌑Bittersweet (Flirty Vampire!Nightmare x Vampire Hunter!Reader)🗡️

My oneshot requests ARE OPEN if you would like to submit one, you can check out my rules post here! (You can send requests via Ask(Preferred) or here in the comments if you'd like.) Happy reading!

[iomoru]

Iomoru’s Halloween Special 2024 | Part. 1

➢ 𝐀/𝐧: It's better late than never ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ (I also changed my writing style bc it looked so ugly..) (Check other parts on "Iomoru'sHalloweenSpecial2024" tag!)

➢ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Modern! Au, Halloween! Au, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Mondstadt Boys x Reader, Second Person, Proofread

➢ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬: Albedo, Bennett, Diluc, Kaeya, Mika, Razor, Venti

➢ 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: How they would spend Halloween with their s/o

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏ���ᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

Part. 1, Part. 2, Part. 3, Part. 4, Part. 5, Part. 6, Part. 7, Part. 8

Albedo:

Albedo would suggest going to a Halloween-themed science museum exhibit, where the two of you can explore spooky experiments and interactive displays. He gets engrossed in explaining the science behind the haunting illusions, holding your hand as he leads you through the dimly lit halls. By the end of the night, he surprises you with a little Halloween-inspired art piece he sketched while waiting for you to finish reading one of the displays.

Bennett:

Bennett’s idea of a perfect Halloween is an adventurous night in a haunted corn maze! He’s a bit jittery and tends to cling to you as you navigate through each turn, laughing it off whenever he stumbles. He’s full of bright energy and encourages you to brave every scare. By the time you both make it out, he’s all smiles, thrilled that he could share this lucky experience with you.

Diluc:

Diluc would invite you to his place for a cozy Halloween movie marathon, setting up a blanket fort for the ultimate comfort. He tries to keep things relaxed, though he does bring out some artisanal pumpkin-spiced treats and hot cider that he made himself. As the evening goes on, he enjoys watching you react to the movies more than the films themselves, offering his shoulder when a scary scene catches you off guard.

Kaeya:

Kaeya has an eye for thrill, so he’d take you to a costume party, dressing up in a suave vampire outfit that looks almost too fitting. He keeps you entertained with witty comments and sneaky little challenges throughout the night, daring you to try every Halloween-themed snack or to join him on the dance floor. You end up laughing so much that, by the end of the night, you can’t tell if the party or Kaeya was the real attraction.

Mika:

Mika would nervously suggest going to a pumpkin patch with you, eager to share a fun, classic Halloween experience. He’s a bit shy but lights up when he finds the perfect pumpkin and insists on helping you pick yours. Afterward, he gets excited about the idea of carving them together, carefully designing his pumpkin’s face and stealing glances at yours to see your progress, cheeks pink from how happy he is to spend the day with you.

Razor:

Razor is new to Halloween traditions, so you take him trick-or-treating around the neighborhood, both of you dressed in simple costumes. He’s enchanted by the entire experience, from the spooky decorations to the candy he collects, proudly showing you his haul after each house. By the end of the night, he offers you some of his candy as thanks, his face lighting up every time you laugh or compliment his howling wolf costume.

Venti:

Venti would surprise you with tickets to a Halloween karaoke event, where you both dress up in wild costumes. He belts out spooky songs with flair, getting the crowd excited and pulling you onstage for a duet. His laughter is infectious, and by the end of the night, you’re both breathless from singing and dancing. He’s all smiles as he wraps an arm around you, joking about how the two of you stole the show as the ultimate Halloween duo.

[deusvervewrites]

Substitute x Neighborhood Vampire:

Izuku: "The best teacher I ever had was my childhood friend who goes into a trance and commits felonies when underfed."

Himiko: "I'm sorry, HOW many bones have you broken when you actually take my advice and don't ignore it for some stupid reason again?"

x Problem Children:

Kayama: *about Himiko* "I'm not sure HOW, but the homeless girl who got here by impersonating a teacher has somehow become my class's voice of reason."

lmao

[liveyun]

sweetest thing | k.th 🎃

title. sweetest thing

pairing. kim taehyung x reader

genre. halloween au , fantasy au, baker au, friends to lovers (?)

wc. 1.9k

warnings. vampire!tae , human!reader, halloween night !! mentions of supernatural beings and co-existence with humans, baking stuff heehee, very light angst if you squint very hard, fluff, tatamic cameo, our taetae 🐻

main masterlist | taglist 🥮

Eat, drink, and be scary.

In your case, there was a small addition — bake. And god damn, it was a hell of a busy night, your small bakery feeling a bit smaller than usual with the amount of people flooding in with costumes bigger than themselves, faces painted with creativity of the night and hands full of treats to hand away.

It was Halloween.

It felt like the one night the world let its boundaries fade, letting all kinds of beings drift seamlessly among the neighborhood — changing the otherwise cold air of the town to a bit warmer feel. Beneath foggy street lights, creatures of every kind — witches with flickering, real candlelight in their eyes, goblins in patched-up scarves, vampires with their scarlet irises, hybrids who usually preferred to stay in their own colonies or even werewolves with their massive bodies — blended seamlessly among the crowd — are mingling with humans.

You watch, enchanted by it all.

Halloween is something you’d only heard gossips of previously — a night where reality softened itself, allowing creatures and humans to celebrate together. It’s mesmerizing, truly, to see ghouls and fairies roam, joining in the strange joy of humans’ games, even if some seem to find the idea of tricks and treats amusingly silly.

Yet, tonight, they all play along, indulging in the world of Halloween, and you feel something childlike stirring in your chest, a thrill just to be a part of it, even if you’re not necessarily trying to trick people with candies or so.

You’re content to be within the smell of sourdough baking up in the oven.

Outside, laughter rises as trick-or-treaters fill the sidewalks, while your bakery hums with activity as people and beings of all kinds come in for a taste of Halloween magic. Inside, you’re shoulder-to-shoulder with Taehyung, who, if not for the slight glimmer in his gaze, a golden rim circling his pupils, would seem almost too human.

The apron wrapped around him is decorated with little ghosts and bats, and under it, he wears simple clothes that only highlight his warm, honey-toned skin with that soft, dark hair curling boyishly around his face.

Honestly, he looks like anyone else on a Halloween evening, blending so easily that his vampiric nature might be overlooked altogether.

Except for you, of course.

However, tonight, even time falls short on you. The counters are a mess of bowls, cookie cutters, and ghost-shaped éclairs. Dark berry syrups bubble in pots, rich and fragrant, mingling with the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg.

And while Taehyung tends to the syrups, you’re focused on decorating the cookies and piping frosting on pumpkin cupcakes, hands moving quickly to keep up with the demand as customers in costumes drift in and out, some pausing to snap photos of the treats or chat about their plans for the night.

And somehow, it feels that you two are not enough tonight.

Taehyung is busy preparing every sauce and filling — poor fellow is trying his best despite his strong dislike towards the particular “pungent” smell of vanilla (his exact words, not yours) and you can tell by the way how often his nostrils flare down or scrunch when the crowd of your bakery gets too overwhelming.

Shit. You’d nearly forgotten about the chocolate melting over the double boiler!

Initially you were a bit surprised — the bread which you just got an order for, usually is a top seller when the weather calls for hot chocolate and itchy sweaters. You’re running to the counter opposite yours to grab the fresh batch of Hoska when you feel his oddly warm, cool touch on your wrist — Taehyung’s voice finding you, calm yet laced with a quiet curiosity. “Try this,” he says, offering a spoon of dark, vicious looking syrup.

You think it’s kind of sweet because he blows over the spoon gently before offering it to you.

His eyes, dark as the night outside, are fixed on you, watching as you taste the syrup.

You lick the spoon thoughtfully.

It’s rich, sweet, with just a hint of something darker underneath — like the tartness of fresh raspberries.

“It’s sweet,” you hum, licking your lips as you hand him the spoon back. Ah, the bread!

“How sweet?” he asks, his voice soft against the background noise.

You look around, your eyes finding your customers still waiting. They are on your phone as of now, giggling over something. You shouldn’t keep them waiting. “This sweet,” pressing a soft, quick peck to his cheek as you murmur with a smile, not missing the way his eyes widen slightly.

You don’t need to turn to see his reaction; the faint pause says enough.

It’s there in the brief stillness, in the way his hand hovers just a moment too long before he continues stirring.

After a beat, you hear the faintest sound — a small, disbelieving chuckle, soft and unsure, just as rich as the syrup. “That. . . that was. . . ” he trails off, words just a little slower than usual, cheeks flushed even when his body, you know, doesn’t truly circulate blood.

Your order sweeps you back before he can react further as you turn toward the waiting group of teenagers who’ve been watching from a nearby table, their faces alight with barely-contained laughter. You give them a small smile and nod as they bark out their joy, high-fiving.

The group leaves with fresh bread and happy faces.

You turn back to Taehyung who seems to be a bit too concentrated in stirring the syrup which he’s been doing since ten minutes. “That was a dare,” you tell him, trying to stifle the laugh which threatens to bubble up your throat.

There’s a small shift in his expression.

So slight that you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. The smile on his lips fades a fraction, replaced with a look you don’t often see from him — a pout which has his lips jutting out, a sight so adorable that it pulls at something inside you.

“So. . . . you didn’t mean it?” he murmurs, eyes lowering as he turns away, almost as if he’s shy.

And there it is — that softness, a note in his voice you hadn’t expected, something almost tender, scared. His question lingers in the air, hanging on to a thread you’re not quite ready to pull.

Did it have to be this specific moment where there are no customers barging in anymore. . . ?

“Would you . . . would you . . . . mind if I did ?” The words slip out, your heart beating a little faster as his gaze meets yours, steady yet gentle, pulling you closer without even trying.

His eyes flicker to your lips before finding your gaze again, and for a moment, the world beyond the bakery fades into nothing. He leans just a little closer as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips curving up in that familiar, lazy smile that oddly resembles something in between a box and a smirk. “you might just have to find out.”

And when you feel his arms cage you in between the counter, you think maybe — just maybe — this is the sweetest thing of all.

a/n : happy halloween!! 🎃 i live in an area where halloween is barely known, let alone celebrated. so it’s always going to be a fascinating to me ! while i saw my oomfs online dressing up as characters, i was busy lighting up earthen lamps xD i hope you enjoyed this smol baby and as always, your feedback means a lot to me ! here’s an anonymous feedback box for you just in case 🍁

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Featuring Astrid and/or Eadwulf

Sometimes, meeting someone's ex can tell you a lot about a person. I imagine that's especially true if they were in a traumatized teenage assassin polycule together. This week, we've got seven fics that feature Astrid and/or Eadwulf - and as always, don't forget to comment or kudos if you like them!

All this, heaven could never describe by Kaeda (112238, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Temporary character death

AU in the Tusk Love universe where Bren never killed his parents, has a THING going with Essek, and is told by an alternate self to form the Mighty Nein.

Reccer says: Delicious intimate moments between Caleb and Essek. I also love how developed Eadwulf is!

Please keep lying to me by idontreallylikebutterflies (3076, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek are spies, and should not be hooking up. They are however hooking up. Caleb is not as subtle as he should be, his friends suspect.

Reccer says: Is there anything better than finding eachother in impossible or just very stupid circumstances and having good redemptions and amazing relationships? Bonus because this is part of a series.

Another Time, Another Place by Operafloozy (9780, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A time travelling assassin epistolary AU where Bren and Essek are rival time travelling assassins.

Reccer says: I like the twist at the end with Astrid and Eadwulf

Neighborhood Watch by Timbrene (2800, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

These are the facts. Essek Thelyss is a traitor to the Dynasty. He has collaborated with the Cerberus Assembly on dunamantic research. His loyalties are an entirely unknown quantity, and likely nonexistent. He is, above all else, a liar. Also, he all but lives in the neighborhood now, and it’s very uncomfortable.

Reccer says: I love this Astrid POV of Essek (and Caleb), and what it says about all three of them

cradled in fault lines by Anonymous (1732, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Astrid has learned to live with one eye by now. It’s manageable, most days. Until one evening, when the wine she’s pouring for Caleb sloshes out onto the table and directly into his lap.

Reccer says: Excellent characterization! I remember who wrote it before they anonymized it, and they are one of my favorite authors of all time. It’s incredible

one small step by 100batmans (2919, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb being super into watching Essek & Eadwulf together.

Reccer says: Hot and sweet!

Whistle song by Chekov (115412, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek have settled down, living a peaceful life in Rexxentrum, that is, until someone tries to assassinate them. It goes as well as one can expect, it goes actually a lot better than they expected.

Reccer says: It has been so long since I read this, but the cast is great and the relationships are well written as well. And I always love a complicated but trying so hard Blumendrei friendship.

and then, for this last one, we have two recs!

do you have enough love in your heart, to go and get your hands dirty? by SaltCore (4355, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Caleb is rescued from a dire situation. And Astrid is carefully observing the Shadowhand's moments

Reccer 1 says: I'm a fan of the whumpy hurt/comfort tenderness that happens in the fic. I also found it a bold and effective choice to be in Astrid's POV and written in 2nd Person Reccer 2 says: Mutual distrust layered inextricably with affection and so much history. (The housecat conversation is particularly delicious.)

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you, if you're so inclined!

Next week's theme is supernatural creatures! Vampires, Werewolves, Fey Creatures, and the like Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[au-roulette]

Happy June!

To celebrate the fact that we are now officially one month away from the start of AU Roulette, have a post detailing the 36 AUs included in this year's challenge -- or don't, if you'd rather be surprised.

This year's AUs have been curated to be intentionally broad, in the hopes that they will encourage unique takes on each prompt and the creativity of the authors participating. You are welcome to write anything that falls under the umbrella of your assigned AUs, whether it's an original universe, a fusion inspired by another fandom, or something else entirely.

(What's AU Roulette, some of you might be asking? An explanation can be found here, along with the link to sign-up!)

Without further ado -- the AU list, under a cut:

Roleswap - Maybe you want to switch two characters' places, do a class-swap for a D&D fandom, try your hand at an age-swap fic, or you have another idea.

Superhero -- Invent an original universe or do a fusion with one of the many popular big-screen superhero stories. Play it straight and give your favorite characters cool powers, or try a deconstruction of the genre. With great AUs comes great responsibility

Gothic Horror -- Castles. Ghosts. Vampires. Drama. Love that conquers Death. Take your inspiration from classic literature or a newer entry in the genre, like The Locked Tomb books. But be sure to make things spooky.

Post-Apocalypse -- Will the world end in fire or in ice? Or maybe economic collapse, war, zombies, or one of many other options? You write what happens next!

Fairy-Tale -- Pick a classic tale from the Grimms, Hans Christian Andersen, Asbjørnsen & Moe, Charles Perrault, or another favorite author to inspire your AU, try out a more modern re-telling, or use fairy-tale elements to craft your own story.

High Seas -- Including but not limited to Pirate AUs and other Age of Sail adventures. Try out something more historical, or throw in as many fantasy elements as you'd like -- or a bit of both.

Time Travel -- For fixing mistakes, making things worse, or time loops. Or maybe you want to write a fusion inspired by a piece of popular time travel media, like Doctor Who.

Western -- Another AU where writers are free to do their history research or to lean into more outlandish genre conventions. Cowboys, cowgirls, and cowpokes all welcome, of course.

Mythology -- Write a story inspired by your favorite myths and legends, from a whole host of different cultures. Or maybe you'd like to try your hand at writing some epic poetry?

Coffee Shop -- A classic everyone knows and has strong feelings about. Play it straight or add a twist, whichever suits your fancy! After all, no one said where the coffee shop has to be...

College/Academia -- Are the characters in your AU students? Professors? Weary adjuncts? Throwing hands at a conference? Some mix of the above?

Theater -- Put those characters on Broadway or cast them in a disaster of a community theater production. Or a school play! All that really matters is the show must go on.

Ghost/Cryptid Hunters -- Maybe you want to write a story starring the next Scooby-Doo crew, or maybe there really is something strange in the neighborhood. Or maybe it'll never be clear what really happened -- it's your choice!

Secret Agent -- Code words, code names, you name it. Write a story about spies, cryptographers, or any other clandestine operators. Take inspiration from history or from James Bond. Just don't spill your secrets too soon.

Detective -- Whether you're writing the world's greatest detective or someone who just can't get a clue, play up the mystery! Use a classic locale like 221B Baker Street or invent your own.

Cyberpunk -- Time to write cyborg identity crises and fight the machine (literally)! Take inspiration from classic media like Neuromancer or Blade Runner or make a totally new cyberpunk universe of your own creation.

High Fantasy -- Elves and dwarves and gnomes, oh my! This AU could encompass everything from Middle Earth to D&D AUs to your favorite high fantasy books you read over and over as a kid. Or maybe you have your own spell to weave.

Band/Musicians -- Whether you decide to make the characters in your AU famous pop stars, part of an orchestra, students at a conservatory, jamming together in their garage, or otherwise musically-inclined, have fun with it!

Reporter/Journalist -- For everything from local anchors and newspaper staff to big-league investigative reporters. Write characters who'll do anything to get a scoop or with a strong sense of justice -- it's your call!

Cosmic Horror -- You don't have to love Lovecraft to get creative with this AU. Make characters comprehend the incomprehensible, send them messages from beyond the stars, and get a little creepy.

Heist -- Will you write a story about master thieves? Vigilantes righting some wrong? What's being stolen and why? Try a Leverage AU or a caper of your own making.

Space Opera -- The genre encompassing works like The Expanse, Imperial Radch, Mass Effect, and Star Wars, brimming with galactic empires, alien species, and chivalric adventures. Write a fusion set in the universe of your favorite work in the genre, or invent a new one!

Sports/Athletics -- Pick a sport, any sport -- whether a team game like hockey, an individual one like archery, a paired one like figure skating, or something a little unconventional, like roller derby or HEMA. Then it's ready, set, write!

Historical Era -- An AU type absolutely bursting with potential, from medieval romances to 1920s Prohibition AUs, to ones inspired by historical fiction like Les Miserables. Whatever era of history strikes your fancy, you can write it.

Road Trip -- Pack your favorite characters in a car and don't forget the snacks. Or maybe the spaceship, or something else if you're feeling adventurous. Where are they headed and why? Only you know the answer!

Space Exploration -- Whether you want to write modern-day astronauts, a futuristic Star Trek AU, or something inspired by the space race, the sky isn't even the limit with this AU.

Urban Fantasy -- For all your modern-with-magic settings. Write an AU inspired by something like Teen Wolf, Artemis Fowl, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or much of Neil Gaiman's oeuvre, or invent your own world where witches and websites coexist.

Museum/Archives -- Have the characters in your AU working in the exhibits or behind the scenes, down in the collections or even as archaeologists or paleontologists. What secrets are waiting to be unearthed there?

Hospital -- A surprisingly flexible AU option -- are the characters working there, or the victims of some unfortunate accident? Or maybe it's a bit of both. Take it wherever you feel like.

Camping/Wilderness Survival -- Could be anything from a fun summer camp or camping trip to a nightmare survival scenario. Write everyone having s'mores around the campfire or something inspired by media like Yellowjackets, where they might be having... something else.

Steampunk -- A fantastic opportunity to get creative with your worldbuilding. Try your hand at some alternate history, or invent a world of airships and other flying machines of your very own.

Shapeshifter -- Can the characters in this AU turn into anything they want? Or maybe they're more limited, like selkies -- even unable to control their shapeshifting at all (can I get an "awoo" from the werewolf fans?)

Classic Literature -- An AU somewhat more dependent on fusion ideas, but still very flexible! Pick a favorite classic book or play and let it inspire your writing!

Dystopian -- Create your own awful society or let a favorite piece of media guide you, like writing a Hunger Games AU. Will the characters break the cycle, or end up trapped in it?

Renaissance Faire -- A recipe for chaos. Write a bunch or faire-goers or have the characters in your AU working at the faire! Adventures await.

Scientist/Mad Science -- Write characters as normal biologists, physicists, and chemists, the next Frankenstein, or as hapless experiments themselves!

[the-kr8tor]

Octobie week four— Halloween Masterlist

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

*if you don't see your work here and want it to be added please tag me in a reblog or tag me in the comment section. Or if you want your work to be removed in the masterlist please don't hesitate to ask.*

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

Vampire! Hobie by @juineri

Pumpkin Hobie by @friendly-neighborhood-mushroom

Vampire! Hobie by @itoshikha

Vampire! Hobie and Hobat by @strawberrymilkmaiden

Skeleton! Hobie by @michelleart8

Vampire! Hobie by @unnecessarywords

Rocky Horror picture show by @bluepepperland

Hobie Fanart by @r0syd34th-h34dc1c4da

Vampire! Hobie by @viperrf1sh

Bloodbath by @/the-kr8tor

A Witch & Her Spider by @yumeaoka-chan

For Science! By @yumeaoka-chan

What's Your Favourite Scary Movie? By @/the-kr8tor

Wandering, Wandering.. Lost by @themossisglowing

I'm Here For You Still by @yumeaoka-chan

Mr. Crow Buster by @yumeaoka-chan

Make It Last Forever by @yumeaoka-chan

The Demon in the Dark pt. 1 by @hyperfix-wip

Solo Mission by @/the-kr8tor

Walls Will Crumble(say the word) by @yumeaoka-chan

The Witch's Vindication pt. 2 by @hyperfix-wip

Fright night shenanigans by @noharaaa

First Blood by @spiderblight

Phantom of the opera au by @aver4gepunk

Prowler Hobie and Black cat Ophelia by @spiderblight

Spider-Punk, but make it cvnty and revealing by @the-cat-and-the-birdie

Daily Hobie HC day one by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day two by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day three by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day four by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day five by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day six by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day seven by 🐦‍⬛ anon

*please consider reblogging each work if you liked them!*