PHONING... Take A Bite.

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ Take A Bite.

After his mysterious disappearance your friend returns with an apparent appetite for human blood.

જ⁀➴♡ wc 2k ✧ angst , vampire!ricky

warning. horror , unnamed character deaths mentioned , loosely inspired by jennifer's body

The last night you had seen him as wholly himself— when your world crashed into his, you belonged to no one.

The swelling in your heart the moment he walked you to your doorstep was swept under the rug, accepting his coat back from you with a smile you’d grown to know over the years.

By the time you collapsed into your bed, the sun was already on its’ way as you remained blissfully unaware of what had happened in the night.

Body throbbing to the faint music ringing in your ears and feet aching from jumping the whole night. The muscles in your cheeks beginning to tire from smiling so much at the tug of your heartstrings.

That was the moment before everything.

When you thought there was love— when you had yet to feel the full force of your reality.

Returning to school the next day, the dense forests surrounding only made you feel isolated as you sat in class, eyes fixated on where he sat— where he should be.

During chemistry you’d considered asking his friends but Matthew would shrug, offering the explanation that he’d simply fallen ill after an overstimulating night.

The school felt off, as if the walls had shifted somehow. Walking down the halls almost felt eerie in a way, the lingering question of where he was remaining.

To others around you, it might have seemed normal— but you knew that it wasn’t.

Ricky would never go out of his way to not respond to you, even if he was busy he’d make sure to share everything with you. Not a single day went by where you weren’t met with tons of notifications from him— photos of what he was eating or small updates through the day.

The silence was off putting to say the least.

Two days had passed when you heard a loud noise in the downstairs of your home.

Tapping away at your laptop, your eyes felt heavy as you hit the backspace over and over. Thoughts of Ricky continued to resurface as you brushed them aside, attempting to focus on your project in favor of your partner Wonyoung.

There was the faint noise— a thud. Everything seemed to still as you wondered if your ears were playing a trick on you, hand hovering over the laptop.

Another unmistakably eerie noise came from downstairs as your blood ran cold. Despite what your mind was telling you, you were dragged to your feet to go investigate.

Against your better judgement telling you to call someone, you found yourself slowly moving downstairs, the usual creaks of the old house echoing excruciatingly loud.

The sound was unsettling, almost haunting: the slow drip of water. One. Two.

It was barely audible yet chilling to the bone.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the noise came again, a bit louder this time, as if beckoning you. Apprehension swirling within you, you felt pulled into the unknown depths of your own house.

If all your senses were heightened, attuned to every sound around you it didn’t help as all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears.

The old wooden steps creak beneath your weight and the sound paused for a moment, only to resume once you paused.

The darkness of the hallway ahead had fear creeping up your spine.

Finally moving to the kitchen, you felt like a lamb led to its own slaughter. With bated breath, you inch forward, footsteps barely audible against the carpet.

And then, there it is again—the eerie noise, louder now.

It's coming from just around the corner, just out of sight.

You take a deep breath and round the corner, heart pounding in your ears. As you inch closer to the source of the noise, the tension mounts, your senses on high alert.

The kitchen faucet leaking periodically, the breath trapped inside your throat finally escaped as you turned the handle, silencing it.

In the back of your mind, you knew that couldn’t have been all. Logically there was a reason behind the strange thuds you’d heard but regardless, your mind attempted to calm you by saying it’s all in your mind.

Turning, your heart stops for a moment as you’re met with somebody. Looking up at him, you let out a sound of relief.

“Jesus, Ricky!” He doesn’t answer.

The kitchen was only lit with the moonlight creeping in through the window, it took you a moment for your eyes to adjust before you recognized the outfit he was wearing. The same outfit you had seen him last.

The scent of metal hit you as you scanned over him, assisting in you finally noticing the amount of blood coating him.

“Ricky…” your voice was shaky, apprehensive and filled with worry. “Are you alright?”

The smell made your head spin, nausea settling deep inside you and he just smiled, teeth coated red.

Without answering, he ended up shuffling through your fridge before you could collect yourself.

Curiously, your eyes followed him as your feet kept you stuck almost like a prisoner in your own body.

He moved faster than you could even react, pushing food aside and out onto the kitchens marble floor before settling on a chicken.

Realizing what he was doing as he shoveled pieces into his mouth, the pit in your stomach simply tightened.

Clearly something had happened— he wasn’t acting rationally or anything like you’d seen before. Some sort of psychotic break you’d assumed had him behaving almost animalistic.

Anxiously, you kneeled down and extended a hand to his back.

“You’re not really supposed to…” your voice trailed off as you cringed at the scene. “Eat it like that.” You finished.

Teeth seemingly rotted as he devoured the raw meat, the realization washed over you that this wasn’t the Ricky you knew— that something had taken over.

For a split second you felt that there was a pleading in his eyes when he looked up at you, a small whine at the back of his throat itching to be let out like a caged animal but all you were met with was the animalistic growl he let out when he harshly pulled away from you.

Your attempt to call for help was put to a stop when you were pinned to the wall in a flash, hands pressed to your side in a vice grip as you felt the bruising already begin to form.

Leaning in, his voice was laced with a tone you’d never heard before. It wasn’t playful but sinister.

“Are you scared?”

All you could do was nod. He laughed.

That night was spent cleaning up all the waste off of the floor. Food carelessly tossed around, covering the floor along with the black substance he had thrown up made your own stomach churn as you’d lost your own appetite.

You weren’t sure how to proceed or even what had happened, the entire thing felt like a scene out of a horror movie.

Something had happened to him— whatever it was must had happened the night the two of you went out.

His stained clothes, hair tousled and knotted with blood drying on its’ tips. Maybe if you had invited him to stay over, you could have prevented whatever it was.

You began to blame yourself all throughout the night: you couldn’t deny it was all your fault.

In the end you had no one else to blame for your life falling to pieces: that’s what you assumed.

There was no way you could have known what he went through, heart racing through his chest as foliage flew back against his face. Feet prints in the mud exposing exactly where he’d gone.

Something was taking over or already had.

That night you’d barely gotten any sleep, project long forgotten as you perused the internet for an explanation or something to try and understand what had happened.

Vampirism— a ridiculous theory.

Maybe it was to absolve some of the guilt you felt— you’d try to reason with yourself and yet you’d always reach the same conclusion. That you could have done something.

Is pain any less valid when it’s self-inflicted?

Doesn't it hurt just as much?

Maybe you were selfish for being upset- maybe you were going crazy.

You were sure you had gone crazy because the next day, he walked down the halls looking just how you’d remembered.

The distraction from the previous night kept you on edge as you shuffled through your locker, trying to put away your books and ignore the heavy feeling of your eyelids.

The sound of the locker next to you swinging open alerted you and you jumped.

“Boo!”

“Jesus— fuck!” Hand on your chest, you tried your best to steady your breathing as you shot a glare at the person in front of you. “Seriously? Again?!”

Ricky was standing there, a smug look on his face. Unlike the previous night he looked put together. Skin perfectly smooth and hair cleanly, he looked a lot like how you were used to.

All you could muster up was a short response, somewhat in shock at his presence. “You’re.. here.”

Ricky gave you a confused look, leaning back against the locker. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I come?”

There was a beat of silence as you gave him an incredulous look. “Why— Why wouldn’t you come? Are you serious? Do you..” looking around, you leaned closer to him.

A look of mutual confusion crossed both of your faces. “Do you remember last night?”

Ricky was silent for a moment before rolling his eyes and looking in the opposite direction of you down the hall.

“What about last night?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What about—?! Bro— you puked venom all over my kitchen!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, did you hit your head or something?” His voice was lacking concern and your face fell for a moment.

“You wish I was with you last night.”

The way he carried himself felt only slightly off, like something was bubbling below the surface.

Shifting under his gaze, you began to consider that your mind was just playing tricks on you. Maybe you were hypnotized by some fabricated delusions and it was all a meaningless nightmare.

“I- um… maybe I’m just tired? Nevermind.”

Seemingly satisfied with that response, he smirked again. “You were really that bored without me?”

Embarrassed, you rolled your eyes as you shut your locker. “Seriously, Y/N. You’re helpless, you need to start doing stuff without me.”

Before you could open your mouth to argue against it, he threw his arm around your shoulder to drag you to class.

Leaning into your ear, you could hear the arrogance in his voice. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

It would have been sweet like all the times he had shown you affection before, if only you didn’t feel his nails sinking into your shoulder.

Life in this town was dull and monotonous; but Ricky made things interesting.

The same could be said about your other friends but there was just something about him that stood out to everyone. Maybe it was his looks that drew you in but his personality made everyone stay.

To say that you were opposites was an understatement. You didn’t possess half of the confidence that Ricky did so when the two of you became friends in elementary school, mostly everyone was surprised.

There were moments his humanity would pop out again. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something isn’t right as he was sprawled out comfortably on your bed one moment then sitting up and glaring daggers at you the next.

One moment his voice would break the silence, the familiar gentleness that he used to speak with. “I wish we could've stayed kids, you used to love the softer me.”

It felt as if you were stabbed in the heart, an ache of nostalgia lighting inside you. You wondered if he felt unloved by you now, if he felt you pulling away from him or whatever he had become.

A few more days had passed and he had been acting strange again. Everything had been off lately— students were mysteriously disappearing and everyone was on edge.

Some were in mourning.

The first student to reappear was someone you didn’t know personally but knew of. Some guy from the football team seemingly torn and shredded to pieces like he was attacked by an animal.

It put you a bit on edge but you pushed any conspiracies out of your head, focusing your energy on anything that could keep theories from swirling around in your mind.

You couldn’t blame Ricky’s change in behavior lately, there must have been something to explain it. There was the underlying feeling from that nightmare you had swept under the rug.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you pushed your computer off of your lap to make room for him the way you used to.

A part of you wanted to make him feel loved but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it when it wasn’t true anymore. The Ricky you loved, whoever he was, this didn’t feel like him anymore.

Instead, you offered what you could.

“I think you still have that kid in you.”

Ricky paused for a moment, eyes trailing over your room to look at himself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes narrowed as if mentally exhausted.

“Do I?” There was another beat of silence before he sighed, laying his head onto your now clear lap and looking up at you with a smile.

Reaching up a hand, he teasingly tapped you on the nose. Cringing, you shoved his hand away.

“Hm… maybe I do.”

Over the next few months, you’d gotten used to the change in Ricky. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that you were used to it, in reality your relationship had became a train wreck.

Ricky flaking on plans was unusual but your suspicion came back when he had told you he was going to hang out with a guy— only for said guy to come up a week later dead.

The more times it happened, it became obvious that it had to do with him. Anytime you tried to bring it up, he’d lose his temper and ice you out again.

Maybe it was because you found comfort in familiar places that you decided to let him convince you everything was fine.

Someone that you knew so well, he had changed.

“You’re killing people.” It sounded ridiculous to say out loud. The way he scoffed, brushing you off completely.

“Just some guys, it’s not like they’ll be missed.” This time it was your turn to scoff.

“You— that’s not your right to decide! What.. are you? I mean- what happened to you, Ricky?”

Groaning, he rolled his neck to crack it. “Can’t you just stay out of it?” The tone in his voice made your blood boil, as if he was looking down at you.

As if you were a fly annoyingly buzzing in his ear.

That was when the fight broke out.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” You knew that he was trying to convince you, but you could tell even he didn’t believe that.

He’d flashed the smile you missed so dearly and he pulled you in, hand cradling the back of your head so gently.

The pit in your stomach told you to run— but you didn’t.

Before you knew it, teeth had broken into skin, a sweet venom pulsating under his tongue.

It happened in a flash and you’d thrown him off. All he did was laugh.

There was so much anxiety in the moment— a hint of hope and faith that you had pushed away fast enough.

Some delusional belief that you were an exception, that you were fine. But it was all unnecessary.

Once you let your heart take over, it was already out of your hands. There was nothing you could do to change the fact that it would either work or it won't.

All you could think of in the moment was all the people you had watched die— how you’d knowingly pushed aside your morals to hold onto the ghost of someone who was taken far too early.

There was a time when you considered Ricky one of the brightest things in your life. The ring around your finger he gave you when you were younger, how you’d subconsciously turn it when you were anxious.

There were things you had chosen back in your lunchbox days: clocks to tell the time you’d spent with the heartbeat separate to yours. The heartbeat sitting across from you in the sandbox, drawing shapes on the ground.

The heart that had now gone cold, the heart yours would soon follow.

The items that made up your school days: pencils, erasers, and a book of blank pages with words written on sand through all the ages.

A spoon and bowl he’d brought when you were sick, a phantom meal or a family recipe for you to warm.

A cup to catch the rain— he’d empty half of his into yours to quench your thirst and dull your pain.

After that fight you were down to one, looking down at the tools littering your desk on a Monday night and you couldn't choose.

A knife and a picture of him.

You knew what you had to do to put an end to it all— the gruesome deaths and murders. To hold on to the last bit of humanity you had left in you, it had to be done.

Slowly, you were going to follow in his footsteps— but you’d finish it before you let that happen.

Whatever he had become, you didn’t know it anymore. A million questions remained unanswered but one thing was for certain: you wouldn’t let him hurt anyone again.

Wherever Ricky was now, you’d find him and end things.

Bloodlust and childhood memories were a bittersweet mix, forever bonding the two of you until your end. Although you were convinced that you would be bonded even beyond that.

Sandbox love never dies, after all.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

do u like kpop?

Yes! i LOVE kpop! ☺️

omggg ur page is sooo cuteee love the effort put into it 🩷🩷🩷 !!!

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HEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

i have made my glorious (not glorious bc i WILL be disappearing occasionally) return

i have some ideas cooking up and yes i know people r like where tf are the fic series u teased (THEY R COMING!!!!) they have been sitting in my notes app bc PCD hit me into next year (I MISS TUBATU!!!)

but i have some stuff i will be posting so i won’t be having a set schedule but i’ll start uploading here and there randomly when motivation hits <3 ily mwah ty for the kind messages hehe

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⠀⠀⠀🎮 Rated Mature 18+ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀she/her 🎰

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ While You Were Sleeping. ⭒ drabble

Against your better judgement you find yourself always returning to him every single time, unspoken feelings lingering in the dark.

There were many times that you had woken up, bathed in the sunlight peeking through the window in a sick game of hide and seek. The settling realization of where you were: in a bed unwelcome, you begin to pick up your clothes as well as the pieces of your heart.

After the fourth or fifth time, you'll get into a routine. Firstly, returning the shirt you'd stolen incidentally in the entanglement you'd found yourself in the previous night. Secondly reminding yourself how you had gotten there.

Dreadful conversations over some cheap alcohol resurfacing in the morning light, a harsh shot of pain in your temple as you remembered the way you'd previously stumbled over your words. How easily he made you flustered when you'd swear to anyone who listened how much you hated him.

The familiar chorus of texts coming from your friends practically pleading for a response.

"Don't tell me you're with him again."

That familiar feeling of embarrassment creeps up again as you study his face in the dim light, the shadow of a curtain just barely covering it up. How peaceful he looked in the moment and for a second you allowed yourself to believe that he was yours, in the same way that you were his.

You slipped up, that was all it was you'd tell yourself as you recollected yourself in the mirror. As quiet as possible to not wake him up because for some reason, you didn't want to disturb his peace. As if somehow affording him that kindness would make up for your own sleepless nights at his hand.

If anyone were to ask where you'd been, you'd do your best to think of a lie. Something believable and not too quick-witted. It had to be plausible but not too ready on your tongue as if you had been thinking of an alibi, itching to convince yourself.

They'd ramble on and on about how much better you deserve as if you weren't lying in a bed of your own making.

A torturous dance between something and nothing.

The urge to run away from something new. A dangerous deadweight looming over your head and shoulders. Just one more kiss and you'd be done. One more night where you feel like his.

Sometimes the moon looked brighter than the sun to you. The hushed words he spoke to you in the moonlight were much more preferred to the silence of the early mornings when you knew he'd inevitably be swept away from you once more.

This time, though, was different.

The usual routine you'd followed each and every time suddenly melted away in the palm of your hands, slipping through the cracks like water as your hand hesitantly hovered over the doorknob.

A sticky note asking for something from you- after all he had taken and given. One simple request.

"What if this time you stayed?"

If only you had been aware of the nights he’d spent tracing circles against your skin, waiting until you were asleep to close his eyes.

How when he closed his eyes to fall asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about you so long as you were near him. No matter how far away he had been he would always find his mind and heart returning home to you.

Wordless and defeated, you crawled back into the comfort of the familiar silk sheets. It was strange, new. The feeling of his arms winding around your waist had your head spinning as he pulled you close, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

This time, you had stayed. A simple favor from the heart beating so close to your own, bonded together by an unquenchable yearning for the other.

You would learn to be very gentle with this fragile heart and in return he would make sure that you never have another morning where you felt undesired.

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