#Alas my body had different plans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imyourbratzdoll · 6 months ago

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𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔

🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️

summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?

warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him.

The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman.

Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway.

“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.

Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”

Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”

“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind.

Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”

Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”

The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’

Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies.

The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!”

You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.

You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running.

You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails.

“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”

Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes. “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”

Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.

You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips.

Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”

You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face.

Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.

You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.

You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.

You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched.

“What’re you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.”

“Leave now!”

Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”

There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?”

“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.

As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in.

Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud.

“Ari.”

“Logan.”

“Geralt.”

They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”

Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”

You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?”

Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in.

“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.

The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.

You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.

You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long.

A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?”

Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle.

“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.”

Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from?

“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.

You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.

“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”

“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events.

Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person.

“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?”

He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it.

“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words.

Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.

“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.

“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body.

“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse.

“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe.

You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night.

Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place.

The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds.

Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that.

His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.”

Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on.

Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!”

Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there.

…

Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?”

Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you.

“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous.

You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes.

“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is.

You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight.

Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast.

You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked.

After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you.

That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”

You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.”

Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave.

You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you.

Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?

Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you.

“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!”

Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. ��Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting.

“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.”

“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.”

Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time.

The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar.

Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip.

The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you.

“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together.

“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you.

You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound.

“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were.

“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are.

You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two.

Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier.

Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you.

Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices.

“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt.

Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.

The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck.

“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly.

“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.

“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins.

“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it.

You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining.

Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston.

Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member.

You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.

You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin.

The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.

The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse.

The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.

Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown.

They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.

Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed.

You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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ellecdc · 4 months ago

Text

the case of the missing pickles

poly!marauders x slytherin seer!reader who can't stop Seeing them [2.9k words]

amalgamation of various prompts:

prompt 1 from 🔮🐍 anon: I was wondering if you could do a part two of Sight's Set where one of her visions comes true? maybe the vision is of her on a date with them to Hogsmeade, but it turns out differently where she goes to Hogsmeade alone and they find her there and join her??? prompt 2 from anonymous: Can I please request marauders with a reader who are just in the beginning of their relationship and yet they know r so well like she doesn't have to even ask and she's all confused and flustered prompt 3 from 🕊️ anon: Remus calling feisty slytherin reader 'dove' being her kryptonite

The sun was warm on your skin as the castle gates permeated your view. You were trying to hide your amused smile at the boys’ antics, though you’re sure you were unsuccessful when a gentle laugh escaped your lips.

James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.

“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.”

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.

“Don’t make any plans for next Hogsmeade weekend; we’ll definitely be doing this again!” James called; Remus encouraging him forward by a hand on his waist as Sirius walked away from you backwards to continue looking you up and down.

“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.

You woke up with a start, shooting upright in your bed as you sucked in a much needed breath. Goosebumps erupted all over your body as the feeling of being submerged in cold water began to dissipate and your nervous system realised it wasn’t dying.

After nearly two decades of living with ‘the gift’ of Sight, one would think your body would have a better response to it.

Alas, it still acted like you were moments away from death.

Perhaps it wasn’t too far off, what with all your Sights of the Marauders overtaking your every waking (and sleeping) moment; perhaps you were dying, perhaps that would be preferable.

After taking a warm shower to bring some much needed heat back to your bones and wash away the residual nerves that your vision had caused, you decided to put it out of your mind; you would never agree to waste one of your precious Hogsmeade trips with the Marauders anyways, so there really was no point stewing over it.

You eventually made your way into the Slytherin common room to find Regulus and Barty already situated with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Good morning, Treasure!” Barty cheered as he stood abruptly from his spot on the sofa with Regulus. “Heading to Hogsmeade today?”

“You know that I am, Barty.” You responded with a smirk. “I told you I needed to go to Tomes and Scrolls; the book I ordered should be in.”

“Great!” Barty clapped his hands together. “I need to stop at Dogweed & Deathcap!”

“Absolutely not.”

Barty paused in his excited tirade to look at you incredulously. “What do you mean, absolutely not!?”

“I mean you are absolutely not coming with me, Barty.”

“Why!?”

“Barty.” You started as if you were speaking to a rather troublesome toddler. “Last time I let you come with me you had us kicked out of Zonko’s and then spent two and half hours violently debating with the Dogweed & Deathcap shopkeep about the proper brewing times for veritaserum.”

Barty stared at you bewilderedly as you held his gaze.

“You’re really not going to let me come with you?” He asked after a painfully long silence.

“No.”

Barty stomped his foot once and let out a petulant breath. “Then you’re not allowed to be my best woman at our wedding!”

Regulus looked up from the newspaper he’d been engrossed with in favour of this ridiculous conversation to look at the two of you in bemusement.

“Wha-? We’re not getting married?” Regulus stated as a question, effectively removing Barty’s furious glare from you only to have it directed at himself.

“It’s just one sodding disappointment after another!” He screeched before turning and storming off towards the boys’ dormitory.

You and Regulus stared at the empty spot that was once Barty Crouch Junior before Regulus broke the silence by standing with a tired sigh.

“Well I guess I know what you’ll be up to today.” You teased gently earning you a groan from the youngest Black.

“If you happen to be by Honeydukes…”

“Yeah, yeah.” You cut him off, accepting the galleons he pulled from his pocket as he held them out to you. “I’ll pick him up some sugared butterfly wings.”

“Thanks, I’ll need all the help I can get.” He grumbled as he made his way after his cantankerous boyfriend.

Even the dreary weather couldn’t bring your mood down as you pocketed your galleons and accepted Barty’s bag of sugared butterfly wings from the Honeydukes shopkeep.

You loved Hogsmeade, and you loved visiting with your friends, but sometimes there was nothing like enjoying a peaceful trip on your own.

Feeling quite pleased at having procured your special order from Tomes & Scrolls and successfully running Regulus’ errands, you pulled your hood up to protect yourself from the elements outside before pushing open the shop door only to collide with a heavy force on the other side.

“Hullo, L/N!” James called as he quickly righted you.

This cannot be happening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled as you stepped out of James’ hold, pretending like you didn’t notice the slight fall in his expression at the loss of contact.

“Nope, I think you’ll find I’m really quite Sirius.” Sirius said with a wink.

“Ew-” You started, turning to look at the longhaired boy in disgust. “That was terrible. That’s a terrible joke.”

“Listen, when you get cursed with a name that’s also an adjective, you get to make all the terrible jokes you’d like.” He responded plainly.

“You get used to it.” Remus sighed; offering you a sympathetic crooked smile.

“I should think I won’t, thank you very much.” You said as you turned to walk away, only to feel a gentle hand grasp your elbow.

“Whoa whoa, where’re you off too in such a hurry?” James asked teasingly.

“The castle?” You responded quickly, immediately berating yourself for deigning to explain yourself to the likes of the Marauders.

“Before lunch?” Remus asked then. “It’s not a trip to Hogsmeade without a stop at the Three Broomsticks.”

“I’m not hungry.” You proclaimed with finality only for your stomach to traitorously contradict you by groaning rather loudly at the thought of one of your beloved tuna melts from the restaurant.

“Liar.” Sirius smirked smugly. “To the Three Broomsticks!”

Before you had a chance to protest, Remus and Sirius were walking ahead as James threw his arm over your shoulders and guided you after them.

“Get your hands off of me, Potter.” You spat.

“Sorry sweetheart, I wish I could, but then I’d have no way of ensuring that you wouldn’t just take off.” He apologised, not sounding very apologetic at all.

You thought of your Sight from this morning but decided you were relatively safe; they had called it a date - this was decidedly a hostage situation. Besides, the weather had been really rather lovely in your Sight; today’s weather was quite the opposite.

It was fine.

This wasn’t a date.

You were fine.

Just fine.

Except you had no sooner entered the Three Broomsticks before Sirius was pulling out a chair for you as James rather forcefully sat you in it; Remus quickly sitting and blocking your means of escape on your other side.

“I’ll go order!” James called quickly before nearly skipping towards the bar to do just that.

Sirius sat across from you looking all sorts of chuffed at his current predicament, smiling knowingly between Remus and yourself. “So,” he started. “Any more visions of your wonderful future with us?”

“Bite me.” You spat immediately, hoping to all the gods that no one noticed the heat emanating from your cheeks at the question.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smirked.

“Be nice to her.” Remus chided softly. “She already doesn’t want to be here.”

That’s right, you thought petulantly before quickly scolding yourself for agreeing with a Marauder.

Entirely too soon in your opinion did James return, happily sitting beside Sirius and looking around the table. “So! What’d I miss?”

“Y/N wants me to bite her.” Sirius responded quickly. “Okay!” James agreed readily. “Now?”

“Oh my gods I’m going to avada myself.” You muttered as you pressed your fingers into your temples.

“Oh come now, not before lunch.” Remus chuckled, rubbing conciliatory circles onto your back.

You couldn’t believe how tactile these boys seemed to be; they almost always had their hands on each other in some way. Sirius currently had a hand on James’ thigh who had his arm thrown casually over the other boy’s shoulder. You were almost certain that James had extended his legs under the table and was currently playing some form of footsie with Remus, who, in turn, had his hand on your back.

And then you thought of the ease that James had thrown his arm over your own shoulder on your way here as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Sirius asked, pressing a finger to the divot that was growing between your brows before you hastily swatted his hand away from you.

“Just wondering what I ever did in another life to deserve this.”

“Must’ve been an angel in another life to deserve us.” He responded haughtily.

“She’s an angel in this life too.” James added; beaming smile making you feel as though you needed to squint your eyes lest you look directly at it.

The barkeep saved you from having to think of a response by placing food in front of each of you.

Your beloved tuna melt that you had been dreaming of earlier sat on a plate before you, confusing you as to how James seemed to know your order.

But perhaps he hadn’t; perhaps the barkeep recognised you and knew what you usually ordered.

You pulled open the sandwich and were hit by another curiosity.

“There’s no pickles?” You asked aloud, causing the three boys to look at you in bemusement.

“Did you want pickles?” James asked you slowly; his fork hovering over his plate as he delayed the first bite of his own meal on your account.

“Well…no, but it usually comes with pickles.” You explained dumbly.

“Yes but you always pick them off, so I asked for no pickles.” He explained simply before finally taking his long awaited bite.

“How did you know that?” You demanded rather harshly then.

“Know what? Your order?” Sirius asked on James’ behalf.

“Yes. And the pickles.”

“Because we pay attention?” Remus offered then; you could see him scrutinising you from the corner of your eye.

“Do you want me to go ask for pickles so that you can pick them off?” James teased then, an ill-suppressed amused grin threatening to overtake his face.

“No, I want you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” Sirius asked with a smirk. “Knowing things about you?”

“Yes, that. Stop that.” You ordered.

“You’d have to obliviate me.” James taunted, leaning on his elbow and resting his chin on his fist as he considered you.

“Better make sure to get the incantation right, gorgeous.” Sirius added. “Otherwise you’ll be responsible for his care when you ultimately put him into a vegetative state.”

You huffed petulantly before opting to take a bite from your sandwich in favour of continuing with your current conversation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask-” Remus started with an amused grin on his face. “If you don’t like pickles, why don’t you just ask for no pickles?”

You let out a conceding sigh as you swallowed your bite. “I don’t want to be a bother…it’s just as easy to pick them off myself.”

You felt shame prickle at the back of your neck when your answer was met with silence before Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh my Godric,” He exclaimed excitedly. “You are a big softy.”

Against your better judgement you kicked your foot out at the long haired Marauder, horrified when James yelped before reaching under the table to rub his hand over his shin.

“Fucking hells, sorry Potter.” You grumbled as you tried to curl in on yourself, watching as Remus cooed at the bespectacled boy and Sirius laughed at him.

“Oh, no worries angel.” James offered you tightly, voice coloured with pain as he forced a smile at you. “Merlin, you've got quite the leg on you.”

“Fuck yeah she does.” Sirius agreed salaciously, earning him a fiery glare from you as you considered re-aiming your foot.

“Easy there, dove. Play nice, yeah?” Remus murmured then, causing a shiver to rush down your spine as you turned to look at him with your mouth parted slightly.

You were absolutely horrified at the very visible reaction you had to the scarred boy’s endearment - and you knew it was a very visible reaction because Remus had a very visible reaction to it.

“You’re alright, dove.” He murmured again, this time with a knowing smirk before turning back to his own sandwich and pretending like he hadn’t just completely rocked your world with one simple word.

You looked over to see Sirius pick off of James’ plate as you waited for James to use his fork as a weapon for the egregious crime of stealing food, only to see James quickly load up a fork-full and hold it out for Sirius to try.

“Fuck, I should have ordered that instead.” Sirius admitted as he swallowed the bite.

“Wanna switch?” James offered quickly, already lifting his plate to give Sirius room to slide his over should he want.

“I’m not taking your meal, bubs.” Sirius responded with a smile as a faint blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

“You’re not taking, I’m offering.” James insisted, moving Sirius’ plate in front of him before placing his own plate in front of Sirius when it became obvious the other boy wasn’t going to help.

“Thank you.” Sirius admitted rather shyly for the notoriously boisterous boy before he pecked a kiss to James’ cheek.

You looked over to Remus in bemusement only to see him looking lovingly over at his boyfriends.

“Did you wanna switch, too?” Remus asked then, alerting you to the fact that he was quite aware that you had been staring at him.

“Absolutely not; you stay away from my tuna melt.” You spat before taking another bite.

You found yourself quite glad that the boys simply laughed before moving on to other topics of conversation, watching curiously as they talked and joked the afternoon away.

By the time the four of you were making your way back towards the castle the sky had cleared, leaving the spring air fresh and fragrant in the warm sun.

You felt a gentle tug and turned to watch Remus pull your jacket out of your arms before folding it over his own arm to carry it for you.

Shit.

“Moons! What do muggles call the game ‘leaping toadstools’?” Sirius called suddenly from where he and James had run ahead.

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he smiled at them. “Leapfrog.” He called back with an audible eyeroll you were sure was mostly for show.

“Rem, I bet five galleons that me and Pads can leapfrog the whole way back to the castle.” James shouted.

“I’m not betting.”

James let out a horrified scoff. “Why not!?”

“Because I know that you likely can even though you probably shouldn’t.” He responded simply.

“Don’t rain on our parade, Moony.” Sirius said dismissively, waving Remus off like he was the definition of anti-fun.

And to your absolute horror, you found yourself rather entertained as you watched them line up to play leapfrog; the only interruption of the game on your walk being to pet the odd cat, point at a patch of honking daffodils, and to run back and steal kisses from Remus (glaring at them when they threatened to do the same with you).

James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.

“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.”

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.

“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.

And though you would sooner die than admit this to anyone, after this rather lovely afternoon and with the amount of time the Marauders have spent leapfrogging through your mind, you didn’t think you could miss them too much, even if you wanted to.

Find the next update here

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avis-writeshq · 8 months ago

Note

not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share

pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k

Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey.

The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.

Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand.

“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”

There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?

“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists.

“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”

“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”

Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”

A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”

“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”

Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought.

His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.

***

Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.

The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows.

“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”

You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”

“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”

“What–”

You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin.

All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.

“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”

His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much.

“Spence–”

You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes.

“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding

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lisired · 5 days ago

Text

(at the end of the day) everybody dies

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: angst, smut, major character death, graphic descriptions of violence

summary: denial after denial, your step-brother continues to nag you about an upcoming high school reunion, until you finally agree to tag along. it’s awkward seeing your ex-boyfriend, haechan, again for the first time in years, but you have no time to dwell on the past with the threat of undead students banging on the school gates.

word count: 20k

a/n: part 3/3 of my wanted: dead or alive series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to leave this school, to never step foot here again, but you had made a promise you were none too keen on breaking.

Though to be fair, you had been pressured and borderline manipulated into coming. Mark, your stepbrother, was the only reason you had bothered to show up at all. You had no idea why he couldn’t drag himself to your stupid high school reunion on his own.

But alas, what your annoying little stepbrother wanted, he almost always received. Though not without a fair tradeoff. You would be sure to do something that would momentarily destroy his life at some point.

At the moment, the idea of storming out and abandoning him without a ride was particularly appetizing.

“Mark, I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you said as you approached the fiery, demonic gates of hell.

Mark rolled his eyes for the nth time today alone. You had been insufferable about this entire trip ever since he (forcibly) asked you to come. “We’re already here. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not too late to turn around,” you reminded, scratching at the blue denim of your pants. “We can always change our minds, you know. Go shopping instead.”

“Not a chance,” Mark replied, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you straight ahead. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, but Mark gave you little to no say in the matter. He pushed you forward until you exasperatedly swatted his hands away, insisting that you knew how to walk on your own, and braced yourself for the inevitable havoc.

You both knew the real reason you didn’t want to come back here and it had nothing to do with the school itself. Well, maybe. There were a lot of memories you’d buried on school grounds, good and bad. Some memories better than others. Some unspeakable. The point was that your rationale behind leaving was something much darker.

Walking through the double entrance of your former school, you were surprised by how uniquely different and yet familiar the place looked on both the inside and outside. The campus looked recently renovated, but it wasn’t completely unrecognizable. There were the usual old brick walls, but fresh blue paint and brand new white pillars.

You wondered if they finally upgraded the bathrooms. Though you had wanted better ones since freshman year, even when you graduated, they were still pathetically disgusting. The entire student body had been hoping for something cleaner. More like begging.

Mark studied the entrance hall in awe for a moment before flitting his gaze back to you, patting you on the shoulder. “We’re early. Wander around a little bit. See how much the school has changed over the past decade. That’ll give you enough time to get your mind together before the others get here.”

You silently shrugged in answer, deliberately sulky. Mark had definitely planned this out. No doubt he had been expecting your stubbornness.

With that, Mark turned and started down the hallway, most likely going to check out the school for himself. You didn’t understand why he was here any more than you understood yourself. He wasn’t even a part of your senior class.

You stood in place for a moment as you glanced about awkwardly, uncertain of here to go first. There were so many options, and far too many of them brought back forbidden memories. The kind that you were to never, under any circumstances, speak of.

After a long minute of wavering, you ultimately decided to pace in the direction of the lockers, concluding it was the safest option. Despite how many years had gone by, the journey still felt so natural. The route was engraved inside your memory, with the once in a lifetime experience of not having to shove past other students in a crowded hallway.

The lockers looked a little different. They were still the very exact shade of blue they had been a decade ago, but with some touch ups. You stood in front of yours, something bittersweet making your heart throb. Many memories existed here. Stupid, petty arguments and stolen kisses.

With how engrossed in your thoughts you were, the last thing you were expecting was for someone to come up behind you.

“Boo!”

You jumped, screaming as loud as your lungs would let you. Startled, you jolted to look to the other side, coming face to face with Johnny Suh. “God, you asshole,” you swore, a hand put over your speeding heart. “I can already tell you’re still annoying.”

Johnny laughed. “Is that your way of greeting someone you haven’t seen in years?”

You scoffed, very familiar with Johnny’s shenanigans, and retorted, “Only if scaring the living the hell out of them is yours.”

Despite the annoyance in your tone, you pulled Johnny in for a well-overdue hug. And Johnny, ever the gentleman, made sure to ensure maximum distance between your bodies. Maybe it was a little bit too chivalrous. Sure, a whole decade had gone by, and Johnny had always been respectful, but he had never been one to mind a splash of contact between friends.

Male or female, for the record. You pulled away first, crossing your arms in suspicion. “What’s her name?”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed. Was that a serious question? “You just gave me the most courteous hug ever and I know you’re the last person to be scared of tits. You definitely have a girlfriend.”

“Fiancée, actually,” Johnny replied with a smile, holding up his hand to show off the band on his finger. “I’m engaged. I bought us matching rings.”

You gawked, surprised. Johnny was one of the few people in the bunch who you had never imagined to have a successful long-term relationship, so this kind of life update was totally unexpected. “Engaged to who?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“Victoria,” Johnny replied casually.

That threw you for another loop. Victoria, as in Victoria Kim? The same Victoria you literally bet five dollars wouldn’t take Johnny back if he was the last guy on earth? There was no way in hell. “Didn’t you guys break up?”

Johnny smirked, having been anticipating that reaction from you. Everyone he knew had been in a state of shock when he mentioned he’d rekindled his relationship with his high school sweetheart. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Understatement of the decade. Literally. There were only a few people you were currently up to date with in your former friend group, although that was merely because of forced proximity. Mark, Taeyong, and Jaehyun were all in some kind of dance squad together with a couple of other buddies they had.

Johnny, on the other hand, had become something like a ghost after graduation. You knew virtually nothing about his life after high school and you hadn’t really made an effort to maintain the friendship via social media, which was partly because of the fact that your account had gotten hacked by some stalker, but that was an entirely different conversation.

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts away. “Congratulations,” you replied, still reeling with shock.

“Thank you,” Johnny said, leaning against the lockers. “What about you? Dating anyone?”

Your eyes widened, although you probably should have been expecting it. Fuck’s sake, this was a high school reunion. There were going to be a million questions thrown at you about your personal life and you had to be prepared to answer all of them. “Me? No. I’ve had a few brief stints, but nothing lasting.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, tempted to probe you about the brief stints in question, but held himself back. He didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. “Ah, I get it. The dating pool is pretty fucked up right now anyway. You’re not missing out.”

“Says the engaged man,” you quipped. “You don’t have to say things just to make me feel better.”

Johnny threw his hands up. “You caught me.”

You grinned, appreciating the fact that Johnny was still admirably sincere. He kept things real, but he was cautious with his words and did his best not to hurt anyone’s feelings. You could see the maturity in his face and although it gave you whiplash, it was a pleasant addition to his character.

There was still a lot to get used to. You were genuinely happy for his engagement, however, you would be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in all the wrong wounds. So many years ago, everybody said it would be you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. And now ironically, Johnny would be getting married to the same woman everyone swore he wouldn’t last three seconds with.

Which, according to Victoria herself, was very inapplicable in bed. And to be fair, they had dated without breakups for nearly two years in high school.

You forced the thought out of your head again, knowing that you were cruising down dangerous waters. Glancing up at Johnny, you asked, “Did you get taller?”

Johnny glanced down at you, noting the remarkable high difference he had never failed to tease you over in high school, and replied, “I’ve always been taller than you.”

“No shit,” you replied, because that wasn’t even what you had asked. “But did you grow?”

Johnny teased, “Nah. I think you just got shorter.”

You rolled your eyes and directed your attention back to the blue lockers, too annoyed to look at his face. Your lockers were right next to each other, meaning you got the pleasant luxury of hearing him and Victoria make out before every other class period like the two love-struck teenagers they had been.

Not that you had been much better.

“Haechan’s been single too,” Johnny told you offhandedly.

You furrowed your brows. “I didn’t ask about Haechan.”

“No, but you were thinking about him.”

He had you there. Haechan had been all you could think about since the moment Mark asked if he could drag you along with him to this goddamn reunion, and he was single-handedly the only reason why you would have rather been at home. The thought that you would inevitably have to face him at some point today made you immensely antsy.

No one needed to know that though. You didn’t want to seem like you weren’t over a relationship you had been in literally a lifetime ago. “And what would you like me to do with that information?”

Johnny shrugged, but there was a certain hint of mischief to the smile on his lips, and you weren’t even remotely curious about what it meant. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just saying. He’s single, you’re single. I thought you would be curious.”

“Not even a little bit,” you lied through your teeth.

Johnny could see straight through your tale, but he didn’t call you out on it. He didn’t need to. You were already filling in the blanks on your own, just as he had intended. “If you say so.”

You considered giving him a snarky response, but you refrained, deciding that you’d rather keep up your facade of nonchalance. In no way would you give the impression that you were invested in Haechan’s love life. Instead, you deflected the attention, asking, “How’s Vicky?”

“She’s doing great,” Johnny replied, smiling at the mere mention of his betrothed. You could tell he was smitten. “She works in the foreign language department of a beauty brand and she makes good money doing it too.”

You were pleased to hear that. “No surprise there. She’s always been the better bilingual.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny agreed. “She speaks flawless Korean and rarely mixes it with English. I’m kinda jealous. But at least living in Korea improved my accent.”

You gawked and raised your voice up a shrill pitch, asking, “When the hell did you do that?”

“Like I said, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Johnny teased, seemingly having fun dropping all this new information on you out of the blue. “Anyway, I’ll catch you in a bit. I’m gonna go see if Jaehyun’s made it here yet.”

“Okay. Good luck finding him if he has. That guy can hide anywhere,” you joked.

“Not from me, he can’t,” Johnny said with a chuckle, turning and heading down the hall.

You heaved a breath when he was gone. The first conversation had gone by smoother than anticipated, which took a few weights off your shoulders, but not many. You were still dreading bumping into your ex.

With a hand wound through your hair, you willed yourself not to make a beeline for the gates. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to speak to anybody already. You thought Mark had said you’d have some time before the others got here. Then again, Johnny was nothing if not punctual. You couldn’t think of a single time he had arrived late to homeroom, even if all he did was goof off.

At the thought of Mark, you decided to find wherever the hell he had ran off to. The school wasn’t that damn interesting. There were only a number of places actually worth visiting the last time you’d stepped foot on campus.

You predictably found him in the courtyard, where you remembered Mark had spent the bulk of his free time, usually chatting with his fellow underclassmen or writing underneath one of the trees by the fountain. At the moment, however, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain obviously flirting with a very pretty girl.

Mark had his arm draped over Xiu’s shoulder and a hand over her thigh, which was crossed on top of her other leg. They were laughing about something that must’ve been super funny, because the way her body rattled as she laughed was almost violent. The whole sight was disappointing.

Normally, you would never deliberately get in the way of your brother’s endeavors to score a beautiful lady, but today had given you a lot of momentum. You pranced over like a disapproving parent, arms folded.

“I guess I know the real reason you wanted to come here, Mark,” you said as they noticed you approaching.

Mark’s face flushed slightly, like he had been caught. Xiu, on the other hand, laughed and stood to give you a hug. “Oh my god. I haven’t seen you in, like, forever,” she said.

You unfolded your arms to hug her back, grinning from ear to ear as you went in, but making sure to send a disdainful glare Mark’s way over her shoulder. “I know,” you replied, pulling back with a beaming smile. “How’s life abroad?”

Xiu went on to gush about her life in Guangzhou, where she had moved after graduation to live with her maternal grandmother. With how she spoke of the city’s food and culture, you almost wanted to take a vacation yourself. She asked you about your life away from the city too, seeming genuinely intrigued.

Though she was entirely none the wiser to the look Mark was giving you as he sat behind her on the fountain. He looked like he wanted to mangle you. You barely suppressed a laugh, but somehow managed to keep it in until you begrudgingly decided to leave after a few more minutes.

“I think I’m gonna go now. Wouldn’t wanna get in the way of whatever you two obviously have going on,” you said after a moment, donning a perfect smile.

Mark looked relieved, resisting a grateful sigh. Xiu thought nothing of your departure. If anything, she seemed a little disappointed, but she knew she’d see you again once the gathering kicked off. She said your name and bid you goodbye. “See you in a few,” she told you, waving.

Reciprocating her kindness, you waved back, turning around and heading back inside the school.

You hadn’t shown it while Xiu was still paying attention, but you were definitely more than a little mad at Mark right now. The sheer audacity of him to bring you here knowing you were scared shitless of running into your ex, solely so that he had an excuse to speak to some girl he liked. Was he fucking serious?

It was the ultimate betrayal. No wonder he’d been so adamant on showing up to a high school reunion despite for one, it having nothing to do with him, but for two, him already being up to date with half the people attending.

Maybe you were being overdramatic. The moment Mark first saw Xiu it had practically been love upon first sight. He’d had a crush on her since his freshman year and pined over her like some hopeless idiot until she graduated. It was something of a miracle she was actually paying attention to him now. You should have been happy.

Pacing down another hallway, you bristled with annoyance. Then, a familiar face caught your eye, standing in front of a bulletin board between two classrooms. “Tae,” you called out.

Taeyong turned his head, smiling when he recognized you. “Hey, bossy. How’s it going?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname, exhaling a breath as you came closer. “At this rate, I’m gonna need a detailed timeline describing the events of everyone’s lives over the past ten years,” you quipped.

Taeyong burst into laughter. “I get it. Did you know Johnny is getting married?”

“He just told me a few moments ago,” you replied, still feeling the after effects of shock. “And to Victoria of all people. Like, I never thought she would take him back. He must have seriously grown up.”

Taeyong nodded along. “Oh, yeah. Johnny’s grown up big time. I swear, it gives me whiplash sometimes.”

You didn’t know exactly why Johnny and Victoria had broken up. She only voluntarily gave her side of the story to a select few people and went on about her life as if he’d never existed in it whatsoever. But it wasn’t difficult to assume that it was Johnny’s teenaged boy tendencies that had culminated in a devastating breakup.

Their entire relationship was a mystery at this point and you were kind of tempted to get to the bottom of it all. “I’m still waiting to figure out how they even made up with each other. From what I remember, their breakup was pretty final.”

Taeyong hummed. “My thing is they were in different places. I think Johnny just needed some time to learn about life and Victoria needed to focus on herself. They couldn’t grow together.”

That was a perspective you had never considered before. You had always just assumed that with Johnny’s track record, Victoria finally realized she was way out of his league. “That’s true. I hear she’s doing really well. I’m glad they’re both in a spot where they can be happy on their own as well as with each other.”

There was a curious gleam in Taeyong’s gaze, but if he was thinking about something in particular, he didn’t say a word. “How are you doing? The last time I saw you, you were super grouchy. I’ll never forget the way you took over our practice.”

“I did not take over your practice,” you insisted, although he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I just couldn’t help but notice you guys were a little out of sync. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks so much,” Taeyong replied with a hint of sarcasm. “You didn’t answer the question though.”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing?”

Taeyong was someone you didn’t feel like you had to hide with. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body and he was the least judgmental person you knew. “I’m okay,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging. “I didn’t really want to come here, to be honest. But Mark always gets whatever he wants eventually.”

“I figured,” Taeyong said, chuckling in amusement. Mark was rather spoiled. “I was surprised when Mark told us you were coming.”

“Have you seen him?”

Taeyong had a strong feeling that you weren’t talking about your stepbrother. “Haechan? No. He probably overslept or something. Might have even forgot the reunion was today at all.”

You laughed, but you strongly doubted it. Haechan wasn’t a very forgetful guy. His sharp memory had been his whole excuse to whisk you off on random dates. He always remembered your anniversaries, the day you first met, the day you first said you loved each other.

No, Haechan would never forget something like this. If he didn’t show up, it was because he didn’t want to. And you had a feeling you knew why.

You veiled the nostalgic emotions racing through you behind a smile. “That’s awfully optimistic. Anyways, I couldn’t help but notice that we’re standing right beside Doctor Nam’s class.”

Taeyong nodded, grinning from ear to ear. Ironically, there wasn’t much about that class to smile about, but it resuscitated some happy memories. “This is my first stop. I had to come here right away. It’s been so long.”

You shook your head, wistful. “God, she was the best. She literally kept us alive in third period with the snacks she passed out.”

“Yeah, because she knows AP English Lit is boring,” Taeyong said with a chortle. “My nephew says she still hands them around.”

That surprised you a little bit. You usually saw teachers get grouchier as they got older. You had to commend her for not losing her mind after more than a decade of teaching obnoxious teenagers. “That’s good to know. Wish we had snacks in calculus.”

Taeyong feigned a look of disappointment. “You would get one headache and immediately say, ‘I need a nap.’”

You nodded in confirmation, grinning at that. “That does sound like me. Everybody was so surprised I said I was majoring in computer science as if I don’t do the same shit at my job. The second I get home, I drop like a rock.”

Taeyong gave you a pat on the shoulder. He knew about your job and from what you’d told him, it sounded both complicated and stressful. He would much rather keep to dancing. “Women in STEM,” he retorted.

You scoffed and shook your head. For sure, your work left much to be desired, but you had worked your ass off for it and it paid the bills. “Hey, I’m gonna go see if I can find Jaehyun,” you said, a sudden thought appearing in your mind. “Johnny went looking for him a while ago and I hope he doesn’t remember that I owe him five bucks now.”

Taeyong looked confused for all of seven seconds before he keeled over in laughter. “Oh my god. You made a bet that Victoria was never taking Johnny back, right?”

“Yes, and Jaehyun, being the dickrider that he is, just had to oppose me and stand up for his bestie,” you droned.

“If he hasn’t asked you about it now, he probably forgot,” Taeyong replied, smiling wryly.

That was wishful thinking and you both knew it, but it was true that Jaehyun hadn’t said a word to you about it, and you highly doubted he’d been oblivious to Johnny’s engagement like you were. “I hope so. See you in a bit.”

Taeyong waved you goodbye, shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing to read from the bulletin board.

Only when you set off on your journey did it occur to you that you had no idea whatsoever where to find Jaehyun, and the school was big as hell. You rooted in the middle of the hallway, thinking. You were still on the first floor, as was everyone else you’d met so far, which made it reasonable to assume that Jaehyun hadn’t made it too far either.

If I was Jeong Jaehyun, where would I hide, you thought to yourself, humming. Assuming he had shown up on his own will, unlike you, you expected him to be somewhere mingling with the bunch.

So imagine your surprise when you saw him standing at the trophy wall.

Jaehyun turned, having heard your footsteps, and smiled when he recognized you. “You came,” he said, pleasantly surprised.

You nodded, coming up beside him. Though you were sure to leave a little bit of distance between your bodies. “You sound shocked.”

“Can you blame me?” Jaehyun asked. You were expecting him to then go on about the very obvious reason everyone had for not expecting to see you, but he didn’t say anything.

Now it was your turn to be surprised. But you didn’t let it show, hiding it behind amusement. “Well, I guess not.”

Jaehyun chuckled and tilted his head. He was watching the wall in front of you both with a certain fondness in his eyes. And something vaguely nostalgic.

You followed his gaze. The trophy wall had everything you would expect a display case to have. There were numerous things dating back to the year the school was established, including a framed photo of the basketball team from the year you’d graduated. Johnny, who had been team captain at the time, was crouched down in the front with a ball in his hands. And Jaehyun was right beside him, as to be expected.

“You know, I never imagined you going from basketball to dance,” you mentioned, peering up at him. “Maybe I should have. The level of footwork required is crazy.”

Jaehyun snickered, his head bobbing as he giggled. “I guess you could say I graduated.”

Your lips twitched as you desperately tried not to laugh, but to no avail. “I knew you were gonna say something stupid. You get that look in your eye and start laughing.”

“You laughed too.”

“Yeah, but not because of what you said.”

“I still made you laugh. A win is a win.”

You exhaled dramatically, relenting. Then, you giggled again. Likely a thing to happen when you were in a high school with a handsome boy. “Yes, that’s true, I guess. You did make me laugh.”

Jaehyun beamed triumphantly. “You have a cute smile. You should laugh more. You’re always so serious.”

Your brows stitched, but you brushed it off. It was a harmless compliment. “Um, thanks,” you replied bashfully.

The floor squeaked. Though you could have sworn the sound came from behind you, there was no one there when you glanced over your shoulder. You ignored it, chalking it up to someone walking down the hallway.

“I heard the dance crew is going really well,” you continued, changing the topic. “Mark won’t shut up about practicing.”

“Weren’t you bossing us around the last time I saw you?” Jaehyun asked, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes and dramatically groaned, “For the love of God, I was not bossing you guys around. And even if I was, you kinda needed it.”

Jaehyun’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “What would we do without your constructive criticism?”

“Die, probably,” you retorted. “Hey, did you know that Johnny is getting married? My bad. That’s a stupid question. Of course you know.”

Jaehyun was amused. “Yeah, I’ve known for a while. He wants me to be his best man.”

You shook your head in mock disappointment, asking, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Did you not get an invite?”

That question surprised you. You figured he would have known. You told him no and explained, “Johnny and I haven’t been keeping in touch. I honestly think today was my first time seeing him in, like, eight years? The last time I saw him was at Xiu’s send-off party.”

“Maybe you can be my plus one. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having you,” Jaehyun suggested.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, but now you were fairly certain that you weren’t crazy. Was Jeong Jaehyun flirting with you?

That made you curious. All those times you had seen Jaehyun when visiting Mark at your parents’ house, and never once did it cross your mind to stop and ask if he was single. “You don’t already have a plus one?”

The implications of your question were obvious. Jaehyun shook his head and timidly confessed, “No. Dating has been pretty shaky for me, to be honest. And Mark told me you’re not seeing anybody. I didn’t ask, I swear.”

“Mark needs to get the hell out of my business,” you replied lightheartedly, clearly only half meaning it. “But he’s not wrong. Dating has been shaky for me too.”

“Maybe we can be shaky together,” Jaehyun said in his usual, slow and melodic voice. “And because I like you, I won’t hold you to that bet we made in school.”

You gaped, stunned. You obviously hadn’t been expecting that. So he did remember.

Jaehyun gave you a knowing smile and slithered away, most likely to find some hole in the ground to crawl inside. He wanted to leave before he potentially embarrassed himself in front of you.

Now you were interested. That was a turn you hadn’t seen coming, but it certainly had your attention. You and Jeong Jaehyun. You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of that sooner. Jaehyun was the perfect storm of ideal attributes in a man. He was handsome, talented, just the right amount of weird, and very respectful. More or less everything you had ever wanted.

You could’ve gone on, but there was one more place you wanted to visit before it was time to reunite with the others. The single most well-funded location on the entire campus.

There was a weird sense of pride when you stepped onto the campus football field, which was ironic, because you had never been one to care too much about school sports. Much less the ones your friends weren’t participating in. The quality of the field may have been prioritized over the dark, unimaginable bathrooms, but at least it looked pretty.

Plus the team was full of admirably gifted players, at least when you were in school. So not only did the field make the school look good, but its champion teams did too.

You meandered over towards the back of the bleachers. There were more memories this field had to offer than just football games you’d been dragged to. You could see images of yourself hiding behind the bleachers, a particular boy in your arms.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, clad in black leather.

“We used to have a time here.”

You gasped and whipped around. Your stomach physically dropped when you locked eyes with the last person you wanted to see.

Haechan waved at you with a sly smile, not seeming even remotely remorseful for startling you. “Sorry. Was that too forward?”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but resisted. “Since when have you ever cared about being too forward?”

“You make a very valid argument,” Haechan said, snickering.

Looking at his face, you felt a familiar knot return to your stomach and it only tightened when you met his eyes. You didn’t know why people called them butterflies. They’d always felt more like a flock of wild, vicious birds.

Not to mention he’d brought up what you used to do behind the bleachers. The mere thought damn near made you paralyze on the spot. Suddenly, you were remembering what it was like to sneak behind them for another tryst of stolen kisses and tender touches. Haechan had made you your most rebellious. There was never a dull moment with him. Everything he did was to feel alive and naturally you soaked in all that energy.

Johnny and Victoria, with all their differences, were the couple that no one had expected. Victoria was brilliant and thorough. She was the good girl. Johnny was impulsive and smart when he tried. He was always looking for mischief and fun. There was a certain uproar they’d received upon announcing their relationship that you and Haechan shockingly never had.

You and Haechan had your fair share of differences too, but in a way that complemented the other. Haechan, for all his recklessness, was intelligent and perceptive. He loved having meaningful conversations that required thought, and he loved having them at quick paces.

That never bothered you like it did with other people. You loved discovering and learning about other people’s opinions on all sorts of topics, even if you didn’t necessarily agree. You loved expanding your horizons and seeing the world. And Haechan never ran out of things, ideas, or places to show you.

It was frustrating that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of what you’d had with him, and you were struggling not to show it. But you didn’t want to make things awkward, so you said, “You look good.”

Haechan flapped his leather jacket and replied, “Thanks. You look great yourself.”

You forced yourself to maintain your gaze. The sight of him used to make you smile. Now, it made your stomach ache. “How have you been doing?” you made yourself ask.

Haechan shrugged. “I’ve been pretty good. I just bought a new bike.”

You hummed. Haechan always did love motorbikes. In high school, he dreamed of one with a beautiful, black stain and a flair of red with insane, unrivaled speed. The fact that he said a new bike must’ve been he’d had one and then some. “Ah,” you replied, not surprised. “You still love those death machines.”

“I do,” Haechan said, even though you hadn’t phrased it like a question. “Probably even more now that I’ve owned a few. What about you? How have you been?”

Donning your most confident smile, you ignored the flutter in your gut and chirped, “Oh, I’m wonderful, you know. In all the ways that matter. I bought my first house last year and since I actually have a backyard now, I’ve been really into gardening and meditating.”

Haechan was impressed. “Wow. That is wonderful. I don’t think I’m ready to give up the whole apartment thing yet.”

You chuckled. That was very on brand of him. You used to joke that Haechan was allergic to being in the same place for too long and a complete adrenaline junkie. At some point, you were the only thing that managed to keep his attention for longer than a week.

“What’s funny?” he asked with a hint of confusion.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. There was still a faint smile on your face. “It just sounds like you.”

Haechan retorted, “Well, I hope so. I am me, after all. And I take great pride in living up to my name.”

“I bet you do.”

You had more to say, but no courage to say it. It was most likely going to be awkward or embarrassing. Maybe it was a good thing you faintly heard someone barreling through the doors to join you both outside.

Saved by the bell, Johnny came running towards you both at a speed you hadn’t seen in literal years. “You two need to go inside. There’s zombies everywhere,” he panted out.

You rolled your eyes. Everybody had said Johnny had grown up, and now he was talking about zombies. “Very funny, Johnny.”

Haechan snickered. You both clearly assumed he was joking, which was totally fair. For one, zombies were outrageous. But for two, Johnny had always loved to play silly tricks on his friends back in the day and you surmised that this was no different.

“I’m serious,” Johnny said in a voice more stern than you had ever heard from him before. It was extremely unlike him. “I know it sounds crazy, but they’re surrounding the school!”

You and Haechan glanced at each other, sharing the same doubtful expression. But the look on Johnny’s face was weirdly authentic.

In the middle of your telepathic exchange, you heard weird breathing coming from behind you and turned to see someone slowly but steadily climbing over the gate. They were stained almost head to toe in blood and there was a gnarly bruise on their face. And in that moment, you knew it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the air fleeing your lungs.

Johnny’s face darkened. “Let’s go. Right now.”

You didn’t even notice that you’d gone completely rigid. Haechan grabbed your hand and started pulling you along from the spot where you’d rooted in unwavering fear, dragging you back towards the school.

The thudding in your chest was violent. It gave the throbbing pulse you got around Haechan a run for its money. You didn’t even know how to react to this kind of situation, other than running for dear life. And even that practically had to be done on your behalf. There was no prior experience to compare it to for reference.

After what felt like an eternity of sprinting, the three of you locked yourselves inside the closest room with a door you could find, which happened to be the computer lab. The sole sound in the room was your collective panting, but the only thing you could hear was your pulse thudding in your ears.

Johnny grabbed one of two tables pressed against the wall and began to drag it across the floor, obviously about to block the door. Which was a very rational, very logical response, but it made you flare up with concern.

“Johnny, wait,” you said, eyes widening. “Mark. I don’t know if Mark is okay. The last time I saw him, he was with Xiu in the courtyard.”

Johnny paused, bracing his hands on the table, and glanced down as he tried to think. “It’s dangerous to go back out,” he warned.

You knew that, but it didn’t change anything. No matter how infuriating Mark could be, you couldn’t rest until you knew he was safe. “I don’t care. He’s my little brother. I have to make sure he’s alright.”

“Then, I’m going with you,” Haechan said in a tone that left no room for argument. His fingers were still intertwined with yours.

Johnny shook the hair out of his face. There was no doubt that he was against the idea, but he knew how important Mark was to you. “Fine. But you both need to be extremely careful. Okay?”

Haechan looked determined, brave. You didn’t know how he was keeping himself together while you were on the very verge of panic. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Your eyes darted back to Johnny. You didn’t want to leave him here on his own, but you knew he was capable of taking care of himself. “Do you want us to find Victoria?”

Johnny shook his head. “No. I told her to hide in one of the classrooms while I looked for you guys. She’s safe.”

You blew out a breath of relief. That was one less person you had to worry about. Now you just had to see if the others had found some kind of shelter, especially your stepbrother. “Good. You should be careful too. We’ll text you if we find out something,” you said, reluctant.

“I’ll be okay. Go,” Johnny told you firmly.

Haechan didn’t need to be told twice. He gave Johnny a wordless nod and led you out of the lab, shutting the door behind you both as quietly as possible. There was no telling if the zombies had made their way inside yet, but you would much rather be safe than sorry.

Nothing about the hallways soothed your unease. They were alarmingly quiet and the only source of noise was the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. The one thing providing you comfort was ironically Haechan’s hand gripping tightly onto yours, a gentle reminder of the fact that you weren’t alone.

“I wonder if he’s still in the courtyard,” you whispered. “He can’t be, right? They would have seen something by now.”

Haechan wanted to tell you something reassuring, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He said your name calmly. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

You frowned. You couldn’t stand the uncertainty around Mark’s safety. He may not have been your blood, but he was still family and the only sibling you had. If you lost him to something as insane as undead creatures, it would shatter you irreparably.

“Hey, we’re gonna find him,” Haechan told you softly, recognizing the look of dread on your face. “Don’t worry.”

“I really hope so,” you whispered.

In total, there was one positive to this bizarre situation and that was that you didn’t have time or space to worry about the rift between you and your old lover. The threat of potentially losing each other permanently forced you to stick together in ways unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

Literally. You were so close to Haechan, hand in hand with your side mere centimeters away from his hip, you couldn’t tell if it was the cause for your speeding heartbeat or the fear with its hand clasped tightly around your throat. Maybe it was both.

Either way, you were in panic mode and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You were the queen of overthinking, and at the moment, it was all you could do not to compulsively think about Mark. If he was okay, if he and Xiu had managed to isolate themselves, and whether or not he was even aware of the dangers lurking just around the corner.

You had so many questions. Many of them had to do with the mystery behind how there were even actual, legitimate zombies in the first place, but you knew no one around you would have answers. It was all completely insane, but you had seen the one climbing over the gate with your own eyes. It looked real and terrifying.

There was a sudden sound. You knew you hadn’t made it up in your head, because Haechan tugged at your arm to keep you in place, hiding you behind him.

“What is it?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulders.

Haechan put a finger to his lip, effectively quieting you. Had it been any other day, you would have playfully gotten on him for shushing you, but absolutely nothing about today was typical.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention. You couldn’t see anything, but at the very least, you knew they were too fast to be zombies. It sounded like someone was scurrying down the halls as if they were being chased, which wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.

Not a second later, Mark turned down the hallway with his fingers wound protectively around Xiu’s hand. His eyes lifted in surprise. “Dude,” he said, obviously shaken up. “You guys will never believe what we just saw.”

You took a wild guess and asked, “Zombies?”

Mark gawked. “How did you know?”

“We saw them too,” Haechan answered for you. “Johnny says they’re surrounding the school. We need to get somewhere safe.”

“Where should we go?” Xiu asked, eyes dampening with unshed tears. She had always been sensitive to every emotion imaginable.

Haechan shrugged. “Anywhere is better than the middle of the hallway right now.”

Mark scratched his head. “Well, the closest place I can think of is the gym. We can at least head there to make a plan.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to stabilize yourself. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s do it.”

No one argued. The four of you were quick to beetle down the halls in the direction of the school’s gym as if you were being hunted like prey. But the fact that there were more than two of you provided some easy reassurance.

You were remembering how long the hallways were and exactly why they gave you eight minutes to travel from class to class, though even that didn’t feel like enough at times. Granted, you used to spend half that time kissing and making out, but that was only natural. You were grateful there weren’t thousands of students to shove past at the moment.

There were a few times where you’d almost tripped over your own legs with how quickly you were sprinting, and when you finally rounded the corner to the gym, the four of you hurried inside, checking for even the smallest indication of undead interference. It didn’t seem like they had made their way inside yet. Still, you knew it was only a matter of time before they did, so you texted Johnny and the others your whereabouts.

The hope was that everyone would be able to meet up safely at one place, in one piece. Your best bet at survival would be to stick together, rather than individually trying to take all of those monsters on your own. You tried to call the police with that same logic, but no calls would connect.

More importantly, you hadn’t heard from Taeyong or Jaehyun since you’d briefly spoken to them in the hallway, and that thought made you more than a little anxious. Their chances of survival were decent as long as they hadn’t gone to the courtyard or something, but at the same time, being indoors meant you had to assume they didn’t know about the danger on the horizon.

“Guys, I can’t wrap my head around this,” you said out loud, sitting next to Haechan on the bleachers. He scooted over, finally giving you some room to breathe. “Zombies?”

“Man, it looked real,” Mark said, shaking his head in disbelief.

That was the problem. It looked real, but there was no logical explanation behind why it was even possible. “No, that’s what I thought too, but it still doesn’t make sense. Are we sure we’re not being pranked?”

Haechan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a prank. I saw that thing. It wasn’t human. It was like an animal.”

Silence draped over the gym like a gloomy, giant thundercloud. “I’m scared,” Xiu confessed after a beat.

Mark threw his arms over Xiu and held her tightly in his embrace. “We’ll be okay, Xiu. The others will get here soon and we’ll all make a plan to get the hell out of here.”

Right on time, Johnny came in with Victoria in tow. You hadn’t seen her until now and she looked absolutely horrified. Their hands were gripping onto each other so tightly you would think they had seen a ghost.

And even ghosts somehow seemed better than dead men walking.

The first thing Johnny did after sitting Victoria down was take a headcount, and he looked very displeased with the number he’d calculated. “Where’s Jaehyun and Taeyong?”

“We don’t know,” Mark replied, shuddering with cold dread. “We texted everyone, but I don’t think they’ve responded.”

You double, even triple-checked your phone, hoping to see some kind of confirmation that they were doing okay, but there was nothing new. “It’s radio silence. There’s no telling if they even know what’s going on.”

Johnny mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t hear with the sheer amount of distance between you, but you didn’t need to in order to tell that he was thinking precisely the same thing you were. There were what you could only think of as real life monsters surrounding the school, two of your friends were unaccounted for, and you had no feasible way out.

“Sitting here doesn’t feel right,” Mark said, brows stitched. He was obviously deep in thought. “I think we should go look for them.”

Johnny was quick to shoot him down. “No, it’s too dangerous. There’s no way of telling if we’ll make it back.”

“And what about them?” Mark asked, ever altruistic.

Johnny countered, “What good will it do if we all die trying to be heroes?”

That was a fair point and Mark knew it. You didn’t all have to potentially die. He was silent and sulky for a minute, tearing his eyes away. “I still don’t like it,” he grumbled.

Haechan spoke up. “Think about it, Mark. We don’t know where they are. We have no means of self-defense. What are you gonna do if something pops up behind you? Scream for dear life?”

“He’s right, Mark. We can’t go,” Xiu said, trying to persuade him from committing to something he would never be able to undo.

Mark tensed with frustration. “Then, what do you guys suggest? Staying here forever?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either,” Haechan replied, glancing at the two entrances. “If those things break in, they have two options to enter through and we’d be trapped.”

Johnny didn’t waver. “Well, we just won’t let them break in.”

Haechan scoffed. “With what tools?”

Mark stood up like lightning, as if to say that he rested his case. “Exactly. We’re gonna need to go back out one way or another.”

Exasperated with the back and forth, you chimed in, “Maybe that’s true, but we definitely are safest here. There’s room for all of us and a water fountain, plus this is the only spot with an easily accessible bathroom.”

Mark nodded along and added, “Yeah, and we obviously can’t stay here forever, but we’re gonna be here a while if we can’t get in contact with the cops. We gotta make this place extra secure so that it’ll hold us longer.”

No one could deny the truth of that either, because the reality of the situation was that no place was inherently safe. You had to condition it. Disgruntled, Johnny reluctantly agreed, “That’s true. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here, so we need supplies.”

You heard the doors being drawn open followed by rapid footsteps and the dialogue in the room came to a grinding halt as you each waited with bated breath to see who was coming from around the corner.

A collective breath of relief wafted through the gym when Taeyong and Jaehyun walked through the left entrance.

“Thank god,” Johnny said, immediately coming to a stand and draping his arms around his best friends.

When he was free again, Taeyong released a breath and looked amongst the gym much like Johnny had, content with the number of less than happy faces he saw. “We got your text, but it was a little too late when I saw it. We had to hide out for a bit in one of the classrooms but a lot of them are locked, so it was a mess.”

You frowned. So, the monsters had made their way inside. You were royally fucked.

“Hey, what matters is that you’re here,” Johnny replied, giving Taeyong a pat on the back. “We decided that we’re gonna go back out. The gym is good, but there’s room for improvement.”

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “We’re going somewhere else?”

Johnny explained that you guys had gone back and forth about the next best course of action, and ultimately came to the conclusion that you had to strengthen your hideout. “We’re gonna be here a while. We need to make this place a little more sustainable.”

You got to your feet, mentally preparing yourself to potentially encounter one of those nightmarish creatures. “Yes. We need food for when we get hungry, first aid for if we get injured, and some kind of weapon to defend ourselves for obvious reasons,” you told them reasonably.

Haechan was still sitting at the bleachers, deciding not to give chase, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear him. “I think we break into pairs,” he urged, seeming fully prepared to support his recommendation if necessary. “Safety in numbers.”

But no one argued. It was obviously smarter than traveling individually, and would allow you to hit more places quicker than if you moved as one whole group. “Jaehyun and I can go to the infirmary and see if there’s a first aid kid lying around,” Taeyong volunteered.

Jaehyun nodded in acceptance. “We can do that, but where would we get food?”

“There’s snacks in Dr. Nam’s classroom. It’s unlocked,” Taeyong replied. His knowledge was coming in handy. “It’s not much, but it’s better than a headache. I’m sure she’s got granola bars.”

“We can take care of that,” Mark replied, rubbing circles on Xiu’s back. “Sounds easy enough. I just don’t know what kind of weapons we can get our hands on. I mean, there’s hand sanitizer?”

You gaped, suddenly thinking of something. “Oh my god. Principal Myeong. Do you think his shotgun is still in his office?”

Johnny shrugged. “There’s no harm in finding out.”

“I’ll go with you,” Haechan said, finally rising from the bleachers.

You swallowed, but you didn’t turn him down. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Johnny or Victoria to come with you instead when they obviously wanted to be together. “Okay.”

Johnny stretched his arms over his head, and as if to confirm your suspicions, he said, “Then, I guess Vicky and I will stay and check if there’s any blind spots.”

You nodded. It was settled. You were going to be traveling with Haechan to hopefully locate a shotgun, and you prayed you didn’t make things awkward in the process. Entire lives were dependent upon this treasure hunt.

Haechan gingerly grabbed your arm and led you out of the gym with slow, cautious steps, neither of which you argued against. He was falling back into that familiar pattern of the way things used to be. “Let’s go before we meet any unwelcome visitors,” was all he said.

Maybe you were falling back too. It was easier now you were terrified half to death and in abundant need of emotional support, because it was perfectly reasonable that you were clinging onto his body for dear life. And if anybody asked, your excuse would be that you just needed a companion.

The front office was very far away, on the total opposite end of the school, which meant that there was ample time to hash out the obvious elephant in the room, the unspoken fracture in your relationship. Something you had no plans to do, but Haechan wasn’t on the same page. He had only let you go by force, not by will.

Haechan lasted a whole five minutes and half before he couldn’t help himself from saying, “I feel like we have something to talk about.”

You peered up at him, briefly giving the hallway a break from your scoping to meet his eyes which were already locked on you. Your heart flipped. “Something like the fact that we all might die?”

Haechan almost rolled his eyes. He could tell you were actually worried, but he could also tell that this monster outbreak was convenient for you. It lent you the perfect opportunity to deflect your feelings, which you had always been exceptional at doing. With everyone except him, of course. “Is that your final guess?”

You didn’t need to guess. You already knew, you just didn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t think right now is a good time.”

“Now or never, beautiful,” he flirted, persistent.

You would think he would behave as if he had more situational awareness, all things considered. But Haechan would always be unapologetically himself, even if the world was ending. That was what you had loved about him to a fault. “What is there to talk about? It’s been years.”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, like that was his very point. “I miss you.”

Your eyes widened a little more than they should have. Haechan had always been adamant and shameless. “I miss you too,” you confessed with some reluctance.

Haechan raised a brow, delighted. He hadn’t been expecting you to say that and it only encouraged him to see what else he could push you into admitting. And he was very much unafraid of riling you up solely to pull it off. “How can you miss me when you left me?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

Like he expected, you immediately bristled. You had spoken to him in depth about the rationale behind your departure, the damaged relationship with your parents and how you wanted to take control of your own life. He knew exactly why you’d skipped town. “Are you serious?”

Haechan kept going, “I loved you so much, and you just left me and everything we could have had together. Everything we should have had.”

You had never been one to raise your voice, so it was ironic that in the one situation where you suddenly became overwhelmed by the urge, it would have been the stupidest mistake you could’ve made at the moment. “You know why I left,” you replied, willing yourself to remain calm. “You told me you understood.”

Haechan shrugged. “I do understand. That doesn’t change how I feel.”

That only made you angrier and you asked, “What did you want me to do? Stay here for you at my own expense? Knowing I was miserable here?”

“We could have figured something out,” Haechan replied, although even he didn’t believe that. Not anymore, at least. When he was younger, he used to be bitter and think about ways to keep you together. Now it sounded like a fairytale.

You shook your head. “I never wanted to leave you, you know that. You were never the problem. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you and wonder how you’re doing. So don’t act like I ran away on our wedding day or something.”

Haechan softened, almost dropping the act. Hearing that made thunder shoot through his heart. You still thought about him and pictured his face, the same way he still pictured yours? “You still think about me?”

You wondered if you’d been too honest. Seeing the remorseful look in his eyes, you were starting to piece together that he was deliberately provoking you to get the reaction he was looking for, and you chastised yourself for falling into his trap. “You’re fucking with me.”

With nothing to say in his defense, Haechan merely grinned. “It took you this long to notice? I’m unimpressed. And severely disappointed.”

You suppressed a sound of annoyance, even though you were relieved. He was still making you think about things you’d rather not think about and feel things you’d rather not feel. Those old emotions were coming back up. Buried, but uncovered. They were never dead, they just didn’t have anything to trigger them until now.

The thing about your breakup with Haechan was that it was a completely mutual, amicable decision. There was never any animosity. Maybe it would be easier to let him go if you’d hated him, but Haechan had done nothing but be both an amazing boyfriend and your best friend. Things just didn’t work out.

At the end of the day, you chose to put yourself first. And it was the best thing you could have ever done for yourself and for your happiness, but you were never not thinking about who else it affected. “You could have just asked me how I feel,” you murmured.

“Would you have told me?” Haechan asked, a knowing look on his face.

You were silent for a long while, which made the answer a dead giveaway. “That’s not fair.”

“When have you ever known me to play fair? I gotta make sure I always win somehow,” Haechan said, deliberately bumping into you ever so gently to make you sway.

You stumbled a little, but Haechan was quick to help you steady yourself. He hadn’t forgotten about the monsters roaming the school, supposedly inside now even though you’d both yet to see or hear any. You sighed and said, “Yeah, nothing about you is fair.”

It wasn’t fair. That he was so goddamn handsome, even more than he had been a whole decade ago, with those same kissable lips that had gotten you in trouble more times than you could count. That every second you weren’t here was another second he probably had his tongue down another girl’s throat. And that life had forced you into a cold compromise.

Haechan didn’t know if you could tell whether he’d been serious or not, but for some reason, he felt the need to clarify. “Hey, for the record, I wasn’t lying when I said I miss you. I really do. You were my first love.” And my last too.

“And you were mine,” you replied, a vague but all too familiar feeling slowly festering in your stomach as you locked eyes with him. The dangerous recklessness you got whenever he was in arm’s reach.

What Haechan didn’t know was that he was the one who had given you the courage to leave. You had been the girl with a major stick up her ass before you met him. He was quick and witty and impulsive. He had shown you that you could be more than what your parents envisioned for you and you didn’t have to be afraid of breaking the mold.

Haechan was strategically stopping you both at every corner, making sure to check the next hall before you ventured that direction. He used this opportunity to pull you flush against him, his hand brushing against your forearm so faintly it almost tickled. “I do still think about what could have been,” he admitted quietly. “But I know that’s not what you needed.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow for the both of you, but there was no denying that it was true. You couldn’t go straight to getting married and having kids with him, even if you loved him. You would have been trapped in a marriage that defined you, with no way of knowing who you really were or what you were really capable of. “Johnny told me you’re single,” you told him, faint.

Haechan nodded, watching the way your hands clasped onto his leather. There was a whole whirlwind of memories blurring through his mind. “Yeah. I’m not built for a romantic life. I’m hard and fast.”

You could have laughed, but you were being mindful of your noise levels. Haechan reminded you of the metropolis - always on the grind, always in motion. He would have loved the city you’d moved to. “If I remember correctly, you’re bold, loyal and passionate. All good things. What’s stopping you from being like Johnny?”

“I never found another you,” Haechan whispered.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your breath was out the window entirely. So many years had gone by, but he was still irrevocably stuck on you. “You want another one of me?”

“Don’t be crazy,” Haechan said, shaking his hand. “I want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I decided a long time ago that if I can’t have you, then I’ll die by myself.”

He sounded so sure, so resolved. Like he had completely eliminated all other options. No matter how hard he tried, he would never find someone who measured up to the standard you had set for him. You swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching for his hand, and replied, “You’re not dying alone.”

Haechan lifted a brow. Your left hand was already intertwined with his right hand, so to be holding both of his hands might have seemed like overkill, but it made his heart race with a breed of thrill that he’d been convinced was long gone.

After passing by a few more hallways and miraculously staying clear of any zombies, you finally reached the front office. Haechan opened the double doors and held them for you while you walked inside.

The office was completely empty. No one was there, although that didn’t necessarily come as a shock. Your first thought was to try using the phone to get in contact with the outside world, but that didn’t work either. You exhaled deeply, frustrated.

Haechan put a comforting hand on your back and led you to the principal’s office. “Let’s see what he’s got in here.”

You glanced around. The two of you had been here, together, more than once. You were lovebirds and the teachers hated to see it. They also had hated to see you fucking in the locker room, which you had gotten mandatory lunch detention for a week because of. Then, it got extended to two weeks, because you wouldn’t stop passing notes behind the teacher’s back.

The memory made your breath hitch. It was all you could do not to sweat on the spot like a total idiot. You never knew who you were when you were with Haechan, but you liked her.

“You gotta be quiet, baby,” Haechan told you, whispering in your ear. His hands were secure on your waist, supporting you as you sat on his thighs.

The boys’ locker room was void of life, save for the two of you stacked on one of the brand new benches. With how hard you were riding him, Haechan felt like you were stealing his soul and giving him life all at the same time. You were his God and he had every intention of worshiping you like the beautiful deity you were.

You clammed your hands on his shoulders to anchor yourself, knowing you would sink into an endless reservoir of him otherwise. “I’m trying,” you whined.

“Try harder,” Haechan said, despite knowing damn well that you were doing your absolute best not to make any noise. It was hard; the way he filled you turned you into a lawless animal.

In retaliation, you yanked his hair, drawing a loud whine out of him. He hadn’t expected that, but he wasn’t complaining. He was your beautiful boy with a very advanced pain kink. You slowly rode to the tip of his dick, tugging his head back by his dark strands, and locked eyes with him for a long while.

Haechan breathlessly met your gaze. The eye contact was intense. It was like you were staring into each other’s souls, searching for fire and being burned by its passion. Then, you tightened your grip on his messy black hair and pulled him for an even messier kiss.

It was out of control. There was no rhythm, no rhyme. If anybody was watching, they would have assumed you were two hopeless virgins that didn’t know what to do with each other. Your lips met in a wild clash of teeth and tongues, drinking in one another like you were starving.

Haechan was a wreck. The things you did to him were unspeakable. Your body was his favorite addiction and fucking you in a locker room that neither of you had any business inside of (he never played sports) was arguably an incredible source of adrenaline. Kissing you always made his heart throb with a mind of its own.

As if the pleasure wasn’t already soaring high, you slammed back down on his cock in the middle of the kiss, and Haechan moaned into your mouth. He broke away, arms tightening around your waist. “Fuck.”

You giggled, having expected that reaction. You knew what he liked, and you knew what he loved. “What was that about being quiet?”

Haechan tipped his head back. You were making him insane with lust, with need. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I think I’m riding you crazy,” you purred, continuing to roll your hips. You wanted to see him unravel, to see him break, even if you already knew what that sight looked like. You were picturing it in your head. His flushed face, his parted lips, and his whiny moans.

“Fuck,” Haechan repeated, unable to conjure up any other words in his mind that would adequately convey the feelings you gave him.

You chuckled, because you knew exactly what he was going through and it made you very satisfied with yourself. You could feel it too. The ecstasy hammering through you in waves of warmth, submerging you beneath its surface. It was a potent drug of its own lethality, but that never stopped you from getting too close to the edge.

The point of no return. You had crossed it the second Haechan tempted you into becoming this wanton version of yourself. A girl who had tasted pleasure and was now on a perpetual journey to feel that good again. You never wanted to stop. You couldn’t stop.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, steadying yourself with his shoulders again. You knew you had been impatient, knew this could have waited until after school, but he made you crave him to an extent that you had never craved anything before.

Haechan swallowed, fighting for breath. The way your voice sounded when you were nearing the brink of climax would be the death of him. He moved his hand underneath your skirt, steering them to your ass where he knew you liked being touched. Your mouth opened, a few soft pants escaping.

You were nothing short of ravenous as you rode him with enough vigor to bend heaven and earth to your will. This was the taking, the conquering. Haechan belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him. The animal inside you was slowly but surely losing the battle against the woman.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m coming,” Haechan whispered, his face tensing as he wrestled with his impending orgasm. You could tell he was trying to fight it, not wanting to come just yet, but it was too late. His fate was sealed.

You didn’t slow down like some people would think to do. You went faster. Haechan cursed underneath his breath, mumbling something about how you must have been trying to kill him, and surrendered to your body. If this was how he died, with you on top of him making his dick feel things he never knew were possible, then so be it.

The entire locker room was filled with your shared sounds. His moans and yours and the wet squelch of your bodies meeting. It was almost suffocating. With how hot and stuffy the air seemed, you would have thought one of the showers were running.

Haechan couldn’t take it anymore and he shuddered with climax, overcome by how ruthlessly you were riding him. His nails dug into your hips with more force than he intended, but you didn’t mind the pain. If anything, the sting only encouraged you. You soaked in the way he cried out your name and felt your own body approaching the brink.

“Good boy,” you whispered in his ear, not stopping. You weren’t done with him yet.

Haechan felt his mouth run dry. You were completely in control right now, completely in charge of his body, mind and soul. You fucking owned him and he wasn’t ashamed to shout it from the rooftops. No one would ever come close to satisfying him the way you did.

Your hips moved faster as you endeavor to finish yourself, using his cock to get yourself off. Which, to Haechan, was the hottest thing ever. He didn’t mind being at your disposal one bit, especially if it meant he got to watch in awe as you drove yourself to the end.

And his cock could stay hard for almost just as long as you needed it to. There was something about you that he never got tired of. The body never lied, and his was obsessed with your entire existence.

You finally reached your climax, your mouth hanging wide open while you came with soft gasps. Your hands were tightly braced onto Haechan’s shoulders as the heat wrecked through you from head to toe. It was a powerful orgasm and you enjoyed every second of it. Haechan did too. You throbbed around his dick and made that pretty fucking face he couldn’t get enough of.

Haechan was still trying to collect his breath when you stilled against him. He laced his arms around your back, pulling you close. “My god. That was crazy.”

You nodded in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder in place of your hands and moving them to his chest. “And you said I couldn’t be a dom.”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, calling me ‘good boy’ doesn’t make you a dom, beautiful.”

“You seemed to really like it though,” you quipped, never skipping out on the opportunity to tease him.

“You could piss in my coffee and I would like it.”

You grimaced, climbing off of him. “Way to ruin the mood, babe.”

Haechan laughed. He grabbed you, pulling you flush against him, and smashed his lips against yours.

You smiled into the kiss.

That was one of many times you’d had sex together in that room, and fortunately the only one you’d gotten caught doing it. You remembered how heavenly it felt to be tangled in his arms, to be closer than close and as threaded together as you were physically allowed.

Haechan had meant everything to you. That man shook your world. He showed you how to reject expectations and to unabashedly live in your truth. He taught you how to be bold, how to be brave, and how to stand up for yourself. And he had loved you the way you deserved to be loved, without conditions. He loved you just because you were you.

It had got you thinking. If there was more to life than your grapple with control and festering resentment for your emotionally unavailable mother and emotionally unstable father, if someone could love you without you having to stretch yourself thin to meet some golden standard, then there had to be another route you could take other than the one you’d resigned yourself to so long ago.

So you made the decision to leave. And sometimes you looked back, but you never regretted it. You did what was in your best interest and you were a happier person now that you lived somewhere where your parents couldn’t steal your whole life away.

“Earth to my beautiful queen,” Haechan said, waving his hand in front of your face.

You blinked in surprise and stepped back. When the hell did he get in front of you? “Sorry. I spaced out.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Haechan replied, chuckling. “What were you thinking about?”

Your face burned. Like hell you were going to tell him that you had been reminiscing about the time you rode him halfway to hell in the fucking locker room. “Nothing. I just went somewhere else for a minute.”

Haechan smirked, but if he had any inkling about where your mind had wandered, he didn’t say a word about it. “Well, I need you here. I think Principal Myeong’s gun is in that safe, but it has a code.”

You glanced over to the safe he’d pointed to. It was definitely big enough to harbor a shotgun, which you doubted was even legal for him to have on campus, but you weren’t necessarily eager to get into that at the moment. “If I was Principal Myeong, what would be my safe code?”

Haechan shrugged, thinking about it. “His mom’s birthday?”

Your eyes narrowed. “How in the hell would we figure that out?”

Again, Haechan shrugged his shoulders. He was just spitting things out. “How the hell should I know? Look in his calendar.”

“He has to hate his mother if he doesn’t remember her birthday,” you grumbled, shaking your head. You were also convinced that with his age, she was probably dead. But to your surprise, his mother’s birthday was marked in his calendar.

When Haechan entered the number, however, the safe didn’t unlock.

He groaned. “Damn. Maybe he’s a Daddy’s boy.”

You snickered and stepped away from the calendar on the wall to join him beside the safe. “Come on. If you were Principal Myeong, what would your safe code be?”

Haechan tried to think. He was pondering hard, judging from the look on his face. “I have no idea. Probably the address of Mrs. Kim’s husband.”

You giggled. There had been rumors, back in the day, that your former biology teacher was sleeping with the principal. After that, there were even more rumors that she and her husband had separated. “Try her birthday. I remember it, because she wouldn’t shut up about a birthday trip to the Bahamas. November twelfth.”

Haechan didn’t look too convinced, but he entered the numbers anyway, looking bored as all hell.

The look on his face when it actually clicked open was priceless.

“Oh my god,” he gasped. “You’re a genius.”

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t been expecting it to actually work. “Um, I feel like I know too much information now.”

Haechan laughed and did the honor of retrieving the shotgun from the safe, which, for some reason, he knew how to check for ammunition. “She’s loaded,” he said casually.

You raised a brow. “Why do you know how to do that?”

“I saw someone do it on a show,” Haechan replied offhandedly. “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, brother,” you groaned. This weapon was not in good hands.

Haechan chuckled at your obvious doubt. “Don’t worry. No one will get hurt who doesn’t need to.”

You didn’t know if you should have believed him, but you hoped that you could. There was no way in hell you were going to take it off his hands. The idea of carrying any kind of weapon capable of discharging a lethal projectile was thoroughly unappealing to someone like you.

With few other options, you exhaled through your nose and replied, “Fine, but if someone does get hurt because of this, I reject all accountability.”

“Fine by me,” Haechan chirped, sounding so confident in himself. “Let’s go, beautiful. We had a smooth trip here, so I’m hoping for one back.”

Only five minutes later, you saw Jaehyun and Taeyong running down the hallway like they were being chased by a killer with a chainsaw.

“What the hell?” you whispered under your breath.

Taeyong saw you both first and he started gesturing down the hall with his free hand, the other clasping tightly onto a first aid kit. “Move. Move. Move!”

You didn’t remember zombies being particularly quick if the movies checked out, so for them to be in such a hurry, you had to assume there were many of them in close proximity. That was enough to make you snatch Haechan’s hand and start sprinting down the hallway like you had everything to lose.

“How many?” Haechan asked as the two of you started running more or less beside the others.

“Way too goddamn many to count,” Jaehyun said through labored pants. He looked damn near out of breath, but if needed, he would run until his legs gave out.

That was some of the worst news you could have received at the moment. The gym was on the totally opposite side of the school and running there from where you were would exhaust you thoroughly. To say nothing of the fact that there was no telling where else they were located on this floor. There could have been more ahead.

“Haechan,” you called out. “Can you shoot any of them?”

Haechan glanced back for a split second. He could see a crowd of zombies distantly making their way around the corner, but they were far enough that you could lose them if you kept moving. “I could, but I don’t think that’s necessary if we can make it back to the gym first. We don’t need to waste bullets.”

He made a decent point. With how many monsters were currently in the building right now and how many you didn’t even know were around in total, it would be in your best interest to keep yourselves safe and capable of fighting back. “That’s fair.”

You stayed close to Haechan as you ran. That belligerent hammering had returned to your chest, only this time you could hear it thumping against your ears too. It was like playing a scary game with a threatening, demonic soundtrack reverberating in the back, only this was real life.

When you least expected it, another pack of zombies emerged from the hallway on your left and you had to do an abrupt zigzag to stay out of arm’s reach. You managed to steer away at the last second, but Jaehyun wasn’t so fortunate. Three zombies got a hold of him and one bit him on his shoulder.

You gawked in unadulterated horror as Jaehyun let out a blood-curdling scream, sinking onto his knees. “Jae,” you cried, letting go of Haechan’s hand and rushing to pull him back.

Jaehyun grappled your leg and scraped his nails over your exposed calf, making you holler out in pain, and you jolted back as he bore his teeth like he was preparing to sink them into you.

Taeyong pulled you away while Haechan started opening fire on anyone that dared go near you, thankfully sparing Jaehyun. The wounded monsters slowed, but they didn’t stop chasing. It gave you just enough advantage to outrun them all. The second you were a safe distance apart, the boys started dragging you away.

It was even harder to run with the bloody scratch on your leg, but you gave it all you had to offer, mustering the strength to push forward. You could barely think. You just knew you had to keep going and you couldn’t stop until you were somewhere safe.

The closest possible place on the first floor was the library and the three of you barreled inside like you had a flight to catch that was about to leave with you, bursting through the doors without a second thought. You knelt on the floor and watched as the boys started to barricade the door off with anything they could find.

As soon as they were pleased with the numbers of book-heavy carts shoved in front of the door, Taeyong rushed to your side with the first aid kid, opening it immediately. “Are you okay? How bad does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, obviously still shaken up. Your mind was still struggling to process and accept what had happened. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“You could have gotten bit,” Haechan said, filling in the blanks. He sounded angry. “Why would you do that?”

Your eyes flickered in surprise. “Jaehyun’s our friend. I wanted to help him, just like you guys helped me. How was I supposed to know he was going to try and bite me?”

Haechan tempered, realizing he was being too harsh. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

You cursed as Taeyong started to clean the wound. It was shocking for a scratch caused by human nails, but nothing that you would have to worry about long term. None of which stopped it from stinging like a bitch.

Taeyong draped your leg over his knee so that he could access it better, all the while Haechan hovered over you both with a worried look. “Is it deep?” the latter asked.

“Like she said, it could have been a hell of a lot worse,” Taeyong replied, attentively tending to your injury. His face softened every time he heard you hiss. “She’ll be okay. It’s not that bad.”

Haechan sighed in relief. He hated the thought of anything going bad with you. One wrong move or late reaction and you would have been as good as dead.

After a few minutes, Taeyong put a bandaid on your scrape and said that you were as good as new, closing the kit back. You all waited a few minutes to gauge whether or not the coast was clear, quickly and meticulously making your way back to the gym before there could be any encores.

The three of you released a collective breath of relief when you stepped inside, immediately catching the attention of Johnny and Victoria.

Ever attentive, the former was quick to notice the bandaid on your leg, which most definitely hadn’t been there before, and asked, “Damn, already? What happened to her?”

You shook your head, not wanting to think about it. “I’m fine,” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say. All that you had left to recover from was the fresh wound of what you’d just lost.

Johnny was confused by your curt answer. He immediately sensed that something wasn’t right and glanced between the three of you. “What did you say it like that for? And where’s Jaehyun?”

No one said anything. You looked at the ground. Taeyong swallowed the lump in his throat. How did you tell someone that their best friend since childhood was bitten and taken by undead monsters?

The only one with enough courage to tell him the truth, Haechan spoke up, “He’s gone, Johnny.”

Johnny’s face went grim. His lips parted, but Victoria beat him to a word, exclaiming, “What do you mean he’s gone?”

Haechan ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a deep breath, and explained, “He got bit. They blindsided us. There was nothing we could do.”

“You left him?” Johnny asked incredulously.

“There was nothing we could do,” Haechan replied again, firmer.

Johnny tensed in a blend of anger and frustration and heartache. Victoria took him into her arms and that was the last thing you saw before you tore your eyes away and went to sit on the bleachers again. You couldn’t bear to watch him suffer through the same grief wrecking through your body like an infectious virus.

If not worse. You knew what Jaehyun meant to Johnny. You all did. They were brothers, blood be damned. You knew that if you lost your brother you would never be the same, and that thought had you actively fearing for Mark’s life. Every second he wasn’t here was another second he could be dead or infected.

It was all you could do not to pace around the gym like a mad woman with way too much caffeine in her system. You were worried sick, giving it your all not to assume the worst, but it was much easier said than done. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst had yet to come.

Haechan was standing in the corner with a blank look on his face, most likely trying to process the trauma of watching his friend get dragged away by monsters. You wondered if you should talk to him. It would be a good way to take both your minds off the dark side of today.

Who else would you talk to anyway? Johnny looked half a second away from falling apart. Victoria was selflessly trying to console him in the midst of her own despair. Taeyong looked like he was struggling with guilt and didn’t want to be bothered.

The only one you figured could alleviate the persistent thoughts racing through your head at a thousand miles per hour was Haechan. He had been good at it in the past, making everything seem okay in the face of adversity even though that with every second spent apart, you had thought your world was crumbling.

You had to stay on top of what you could control, because those were the only things you had right now. The tension was tight as hell and you were overwhelmingly aware of the odds here. You guys had phones, but no signal. No way to contact people and alert them that you were in danger. And attempting to evacuate the school would be too risky.

You had no idea what was out there waiting for you, nor did you have any desire to find out. The sneak peek in the hallway with Jaehyun was more than enough.

Finally, you mustered the courage to approach him, hoping you wouldn’t regret it immediately after, and announced, “I have a question.”

Haechan lifted a brow, expectant. “Hit me.”

“Do you still stay hard after you come?”

Haechan’s eyes went wide with shock at your question for all of two seconds before he burst into laughter. “Jesus, woman,” he replied, taken aback. “What kind of question is that?”

You shrugged. The sound of his laugh was still melodious, like a heaven choir. “I was just wondering.”

“I see,” Haechan said with amusement, bobbing his head. “And to answer your question, I only stayed hard for you because you really turned me on.”

You blinked. Well, that was certainly an answer. “Oh. Wow.”

Haechan didn’t seem to think it was all that surprising. “Yeah. Wow, right?”

You laughed, glancing away. It was ironic that you had been the one to ask him such a bold question and now you were getting shy.

Haechan observed your body language. He could see that you had gotten flustered, but that wasn’t what stood out to him. You looked startled, tense. And you had every right to be. “I’d ask you if you were okay, but I can tell that you’re not,” he said softly.

You smiled thinly. It was all you could muster at the moment, all things considered. “I used to think that running away from home and leaving behind everything I knew, everyone I loved, would be the scariest thing I ever did. But this? This is some spooky shit.”

“I thought losing you forever would be the scariest thing for me,” Haechan whispered. “And I still do.”

Everything about that confession broke your heart. You had never wanted to make him feel like that. Haechan could never lose you, not when it was the picture of his face and the memory of his love that used to get you through every day. You sighed. “Why did we stop being together?”

Haechan almost chuckled. He didn’t know if you were seriously asking, but he decided to humor you. “We wanted different things out of life. You wanted to go find yourself in the big city and I never got bored of home.”

You snorted. “How ironic.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. After all, this city wasn’t particularly small, but it wasn’t as big as your new one either. You just wanted a change of pace. And Haechan, for all his hatred of routine, had struggled to accept that. “I think I still love you. Because when I saw your face for the first time today, it gave me hope. And now that we’re standing here, not knowing what’s next, all I feel is dread.”

You could feel that dread too. It wrapped its calloused hand around your throat and asphyxiated you. “Do you remember the night before I left?”

Haechan nodded, face tensing with something wistful. “I don’t think I can ever forget it. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

You remembered it too. It was the last night you ever saw Haechan face to face. You were twenty years old, moving out of the house you had spent every single last one those years trapped inside of, and about to kiss goodbye the single best relationship you’d ever had. And the first one that had really meant something special.

Haechan’s room was dark, but you could see enough thanks to the moonlight penetrating through his window with the curtains drawn open. You had been staying in his house for the past week and making love every day while his parents weren’t home.

Even then, he was on top of you, rocking into you with languid thrusts. It wasn’t really his style, but it was also the nth round of many and you were both tired. Though he couldn’t get enough of your body and he didn’t want to be apart from you knowing that not a moment of your relationship wouldn’t matter the second you boarded your flight in the morning.

So this one had to count for something.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered. You thought you would be saying that a lot lately, but the reality was that you had held your tongue for the past week, desperate to ignore the finality in every action you took.

Haechan had been hoping you wouldn’t. It wasn’t that he wasn’t going to miss you - he was going to be sick to his stomach without you, but he didn’t need a reminder that you were leaving him, even if it stared him in the face every day. You may not have realized it, but every time you made eye contact, you looked at him like you were about to leave your heart in his lap.

“I’m gonna miss you more. You have no idea,” Haechan said, forgoing his grip on your hips to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand, closing your eyes and releasing a shaky breath. “You won’t hate me for this, will you?”

Haechan recoiled in surprise. “Why would I ever hate you?”

You shook your head. You knew it was irrational. That being said, that didn’t stop you from being afraid of what was to come in the very near future. “I just… I thought you would feel betrayed. We made a lot of promises together and now we’re breaking them because I can’t be here anymore.”

Haechan sucked in a breath. He figured it would be best to think over what he was going to say before he let it spill from his mouth. “I don’t hate you. I will never hate you. I understand why you’re leaving and I’m happy for you, because I know that you’ll be happier there.”

“What if I leave and it’s not what I’m hoping for it to be?” you asked.

Haechan countered promptly, “What if you leave and it’s everything you want it to be and more?”

“Everything I want and more would be for us to go to a whimsical place far away from here where we can be together until the day we die, but that’s not realistic.”

“Dreams are never realistic. That’s what makes them dreams. It’s up to you to make them real,” Haechan replied, meeting your eyes and never daring to look away no matter how much it pained him.

You sighed. He could be so wise when he wanted to be.

Haechan took a minute to collect himself and continued, “I want you to chase your dreams, baby. Even if it hurts me in the process. Because what would hurt me more is knowing that you’re unsatisfied and putting up with something just because you think it’s what I want.”

In that moment, you finally realized how lucky you had gotten with him. You always knew you were lucky, but right now you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. And at the same time, you felt like fate wasn’t on your side. “I’m so scared, Haechan.”

“I’m scared for you,” he admitted, poignant. “My mind keeps screaming with thoughts of things that could go wrong with you out there in some big city all by yourself.”

“But?”

Haechan gave you a look. “What do you mean? But nothing. I’m scared and I wish things were different so that you could stay here.”

That made you laugh for some reason. Maybe because you weren’t expecting it.

The sound of your laughter eased some of the tension in his heart. He asked, “You know what scares me more though?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and droned, “I know, I know. The thought of me not being happy and sacrificing my dreams just so that we can be together.”

Haechan shook his head. “No,” he blurted out. Then, he thought about it. “Well, yes, that too, but I was going to say the thought of you not being mine. I’m terrified of you moving on and forgetting about me.”

You frowned, bringing your hand to his cheek with the tenderness he’d always loved about you. “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me. You give me strength. I’m not gonna lie, if it weren’t for you, I probably would have slit my wrists a long time ago.”

Haechan winced. “Damn, baby.”

You smiled thinly, watching his eyes close and his face rub against your palm as you gently soothed him. He would forever be a slave to your touch. “I know. But you being there for me has changed my life for the better. And even if we never see each other again, I’ll still remember your face. Your voice. The way you laugh and the way you make me think. I’ll always carry a piece of you inside my heart.”

“And you’ll be walking with all of mine,” Haechan told you fondly, losing himself in you.

In more ways than one. You couldn’t remember how long you two had stayed there, pleasuring each other until you were too sore to take any more and too weak to keep your eyes from closing. You just knew that you had been cocooned in his embrace, arms and legs coiled snugly around him, wishing you didn’t have to let him go.

You still could see the heartbroken pain on his face he tried (and failed) to hide as he watched you leave that following morning.

“It was so hard to walk away after that,” you confessed, slumping against the wall. “I knew that if I looked back, I would run right back into your arms.”

Haechan dropped beside you and lowered his head onto your shoulder. “Then I’m glad you never looked back. There was always this sadness to you, even when you tried to hide it from us. I don’t feel that from you now.”

You were happier. You were in a place where you felt like you could be yourself, surrounded by friends you trusted and found reliable. No one passed any judgment. But none of that would matter if you didn’t make it back home. “I hope it’s not all for nothing.”

“It’s not all for nothing,” Haechan replied sternly. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, believing him. You would all be fine. Everything would be okay.

The lights flickered on in the hallway, drawing everyone’s attention to the door, and you could see through its window. They were motion activated, which meant someone was coming. You swallowed, wondering whether to expect Mark, some monsters, or a secret third option.

You thanked God himself when you saw Mark barge through the door with Xiu, holding a basket of snacks.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” you told Haechan, standing up on your legs. “You want anything?”

Haechan shook his head. “Nah, I’m not hungry.”

You were tempted to press, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you left it alone and walked away. He was hardly blinking but he didn’t seem tired like you were after so much sprinting. You knew he tended to get lost in his thoughts to the extent of neglecting himself and you were beginning to get a little worried.

Mark saw you approaching him and dropped everything (he literally dropped the snacks) to throw his arms around you securely. You squeaked in surprise but welcomed it nonetheless. “Oh my god. I can’t breathe. Mark, when did you get so strong?”

“I’m so sorry I dragged you here,” he apologized, penitent. “If I had known that this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have forced you to show up against your will.”

You didn’t spare a second in responding, “Mark, don’t you dare apologize. Absolutely none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Mark still felt guilty. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was to blame for some of this. “I know, but I’m the only reason you came. And if I didn’t make you come here, you would’ve been safe. You would’ve never gotten hurt.”

You sighed. “It’s just a scratch, Mark.”

“Right now it’s just a scratch. I hope to God that’s the most any of us get,” Mark huffed. He was annoyed, but not with you. With himself.

You hoped so too. No matter what amount of unfinished stood between anyone, no one deserved to die. You didn’t want a day intended for celebration and unity to end with mourning and grief. And even then, that ship had sailed.

Mark nudged your side with his elbow. “How’s Haechan doing? I see you guys haven’t left each other alone. And you were so scared of running into him.”

You mustered a smile. You had been so convinced that reuniting with your old lover would be the worst thing to happen today. “Yeah, it’s funny. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. He’s still the same boy I fell in love with, but eight years older and eight years wiser.”

“Is he holding up okay?”

“I think he’s holding up better than anyone in the room, to be honest,” you answered with a nod, glancing back at Haechan. He was still sitting by the wall, stoic as ever. “He’s really brave and super strong. Always has been.”

Mark followed your gaze. The tenacity was something he could appreciate and definitely something needed when half of you were on the verge of losing your shit. Even Johnny was grappling with defeat. “He’s the kind of person you need. The kind of person you deserve.”

There was a dull throbbing in your heart. It was an ache that you’d suppressed for many years and it’d finally had its fill of being locked away. It needed attention. “He said he still loves me, you know.”

“And what did you say?” Mark asked expectantly.

You shrugged. Obviously, you knew, but the whole thing still seemed surreal to you - not just the monsters. You had been half expecting hatred, resentment and dismissal. Not affection and compassion. “I didn’t say it back, if that’s what you’re asking. Not directly, at least. But I think he understood. He and I have always had a way of communicating.”

Mark bobbed his head in agreement and replied, “Yeah, that’s true. I still can’t see you with anybody else. You two belong together and I hope that when we make it out of here, you guys can work things out.”

You grinned softly. No matter what, you and Haechan had always been the couple that everybody wanted together. It made you happy to know people still felt that way, because you did too. But you chose to deflect, asking, “What about you and Xiu?”

“I wanna make things work with her too. I’ve had a crush on her for the longest,” Mark confessed, turning his head to look at her. She was a few feet behind him consoling Johnny and Victoria.

You nodded, pleased that Mark had found his match. He had been as unhappy in love as you were. It was in the genes, even if he wasn’t your blood brother. “Oh, I know. I think everybody knows. You were never exactly subtle. But I have to give credit where credit is due, and it’s crazy that she’s all over you now. What did you do?”

To your surprise, Mark started giggling mischievously.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant. “Nevermind. Spare me the details.”

Mark threw his hands up. “Hey, that’s just life, you know? Things work out when they’re supposed to.”

You had been about to reflect on the remarkably wise words spoken to you, but everyone quickly noticed the faint thump resounding in the hallway as the lights flickered on, indicating that someone was approaching. The dialogue faded. It was so quiet that all you could hear was your quickening pulse.

All of the boys were on high alert. Taeyong, who was already on edge, rooted in place like a rock. Johnny glanced up from where he’d been sitting with his face in his hands, tapping his foot. Haechan made his way over to investigate. And Mark stood in front of you protectively.

It was like a dam breaking. There was a split second of peace before a pack of zombies barged in through both entrances, and your whole body went into panic mode. You couldn’t breathe and your immediate instinct was to take flight, but there was nowhere else to go. You were trapped.

Startled beyond belief and terrified for her life, Xiu ran over to where you and Mark were standing in shock as everything rapidly unfolded, grasping his arms and joining you behind him. At the moment, it felt like the safest place to be.

Haechan was quick to draw his weapon and start opening fire on the gory monsters in front of you, but there was no way he could defeat them all. There were too many. The sound of gunshots made you recoil harder and you shrunk in on yourself, willing yourself not to sob.

In the blink of an eye, they were cornering Victoria like a knot of hungry sharks. Johnny cried out her name and didn’t think twice about advancing on the hungry creatures, knocking two of them dead onto the ground with his fist.

When Johnny spun around to grab her and lead her away from the others, Victoria bit into his face.

You closed your eyes when you heard his screams, knowing that there was nothing you could do for either of them now. The infection spread within them too quickly. It had been like that with Jaehyun too; one second he was the sweet boy you’d always known, and the very next, he was trying to drag you into the void with him.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Taeyong getting drowned into a sea of monsters. He resisted, thrashing against them and kicking his legs, but to no avail. You lost sight of his face as he was swallowed beneath them to be feasted on like a rotting dead animal.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. What you were hearing. The wound of grief from earlier was still too fresh and you weren’t afforded the opportunity to process the second and third losses before Taeyong was stolen from you too. He shouted out in pain, but the sound was muffled as he was overpowered. You would never forget those agonized cries for as long as you lived.

Haechan accidentally shot one of them in the head and it dropped to the ground, its body twitching for a few seconds before it stilled completely. You gawked, eyes widening. That was how you killed the dead.

He seemed equally stunned, but there was no time to waste in lying around waiting to die. “We need to go,” he said in a tone that would brook no argument.

As sick as it sounded, you knew he was right. You needed to leave while it was still an option. You were outnumbered. The monsters were still focused on Taeyong and they wouldn’t be distracted by him for much longer. It was now or never.

“There’s an emergency exit door in the storage room,” said Mark, gesturing for you all to follow him with a rapid blur of his hands.

The remaining three of you paced behind him as quickly as you could without drawing attention to yourselves. As much as you hated having to leave them there for dead, you had to prioritize survival. You tried to tell yourself that they would have wanted you to leave. Whatever you needed to do to convince yourself that you were making the right choice.

Fortunately, the storage room was unlocked, and all four of you charged inside, maneuvering between several racks of spare basketballs and sports equipment and sundries. You had no idea where the exit door led to specifically, but you had no other option than to fuck around and find out.

You ended up halfway out of the school. There was a fence within a fence, bringing you outside, but still within the outermost perimeter. It was a dangerous place to be, considering most of the monsters were roaming outdoors and you had no way of escaping the relatively tall gates of your school.

The innermost fence, on the other hand, while definitely all, was still climbable. Your school was a prison no one had been talented enough to sneak out of, but that didn’t mean no one had ever tried. And you and Haechan had gotten pretty good at hopping over the inner fence to take a detour to the garden shack for some alone time.

Mark looked at the fence in disapproval. There was a gate, but it was obviously locked. No one other than the coaches and custodians likely knew the code. “What fucking security freaks, dude.”

Haechan looked toward you. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

You nodded reluctantly. It had been a minute since you’d needed to hop a fence, but you couldn’t stay here. You had to go back inside the school.

Xiu caught on and she didn’t like it one bit. “No way you guys are seriously thinking about climbing the fence.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Haechan asked impatiently.

Mark narrowed his eyes at Haechan. “Don’t talk to her like that. She’s scared of heights.”

“And I’m scared of getting my brains chewed out by zombies and turning into one like the rest of our friends. You two can stay here, but I’m hopping the fence.”

“Hey, chill out,” you said, putting your hands up and glancing between the both of them before things got ugly. “There’s no point in any of this if you’re both just gonna kill each other. We need to hop the fence. Now.”

Mark sighed, turning towards Xiu. “I can carry you over, if you want.”

Xiu shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I can do it.”

Haechan was satisfied. “Good.” He pivoted so that he was facing you, handing you the shotgun. “Hold this for me.”

You grabbed the gun cautiously. You were every bit afraid of accidentally setting it off and wounding yourself or someone else in the process.

Haechan stepped back, taking a deep breath, and ran up and hauled himself over the fence like it was nothing. You acted quickly, but carefully, handing him the gun over the slightly shorter gate.

Then, it was your turn. Your heart was pumping. Your whole body was on edge. You walked backwards, putting some distance between you and the fence, and sprinted over without a second thought. You grasped the top for leverage and pulled yourself over, landing on your feet.

And then there were two.

Mark exhaled a shaky breath and glanced at Xiu again, holding her hands. “You can go now.”

She shook her head. “No, you go.”

Mark looked like he was about to ask if she was sure, but Haechan beat him to a word. “Fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for this. There’s zombies coming. Look behind you.”

There were a handful of zombies slowly but surely making their way over and there was only so much time before they caught up to you. Frantically, Xiu began to fret, eyes widening as she clasped Mark’s forearms. “Go. I don’t wanna slow you guys down.”

Mark glanced between her and the fence, stuck at a crossroads. Ultimately, he grabbed Xiu’s face and kissed her breathless like it was his last chance to let her know how he really felt, and threw himself over the fence.

“Okay, baby. It’s your turn,” Mark said, gesturing for her to come over.

Xiu hesitated, eyes wide with fear. It was a six foot tall jump that required every bit of vigor to haul yourself over. You watched with dread, an invisible clock ticking above your head as your body shuddered with alarm. You couldn’t stand still.

Especially not when the zombies were getting closer and closer with every second gone to waste. In a life or death situation, every single breath counted. She was running out of time and you desperately didn’t want to lose another valuable friend that had made an impact on your life for the better. You just couldn’t. You refused.

“Babe,” Mark called again, on the verge of panic. “Please. You have to jump right now. Just come to me.”

You and Haechan urgently waved her over. You exclaimed, “Xiu, just do it! Don’t think about it. It’s only gonna take a few seconds and then it’ll be over.”

Xiu stepped back, preparing herself for the leap. She took a few restrained steps forward, testing the waters, and backed away again. “Mark, I can’t do it. I’m scared,” she whimpered.

“Yes, you can,” Mark reassured her gingerly. “You can do it, Xiu. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Xiu begrudgingly nodded, wanting to trust him more than anything. She exhaled a shaky breath and walked back, glancing over her shoulder to gauge how much distance remained between her and the monsters, and resigned herself to the fact that there was no other way out. Finally, she closed her eyes and sprung forward, getting caught at the top and bracing herself on the fence.

When she glanced back, she lost her grip and fell for all of a couple seconds, cracking her skull on a rock.

The sound was the most devastating thing you’d ever heard.

“Xiu!” Mark cried out in anguish, rushing towards the fence without a second thought.

Haechan had to get a hold of him before he leaped back over, barely able to restrain Mark with how wildly he fought it. Haechan briefly forwent the gun and grappled Mark, spinning him around so that they were face to face. “Hey, man. Look. Look at me,” he said, bracing his shoulders. “She’s gone.”

“No,” Mark shouted in denial, attempting to wrestle free of Haechan’s iron grip.

You helped Haechan hold Mark in place, knowing it would be both foolish and risky for him to go back over when there were monsters nearly clawing at the gate. You could see the agony on your brother’s face and it broke you in half. “Mark, I’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Mark echoed, but this time it was a hollow whisper. He slackened and the second you and Haechan released him, he dropped to the ground. There was no faking the heartbreak in his eyes. In his voice.

Haechan exhaled deeply, cradling his face in his hands. “Fuck, man.”

Even though you were dealing with your own overwhelming whirlwind of emotions - anger, grief, and fear - you knew someone needed to be the voice of reason between the three of you so that you could survive. “Mark, it’s time to go,” you told him gently.

Mark looked up at you, empty. Like he didn’t care whether he lived or died. His voice was quiet. “I promised. I promised her she was gonna be okay.”

You shook your head, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of consolation. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

Mark was in too deep. He couldn’t see it any other way. To him, this was preventable and the outcome had largely depended on him. He lowered his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have let her go last. I could’ve helped her. I knew she was scared.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this, Mark. It’s no one’s fault,” you replied gently, wishing there was something you could say to convince him. But you didn’t have time for that right now. “But we really need to get going so that no one else gets hurt.”

Mark nodded, begrudgingly coming to a stand. He was only partly in the journey now; halfway to surrender. “The gym’s blown. What’s the next best place?”

You thought about it. “The auditorium?”

“There’s too many doors,” Haechan chimed, having learned his lesson from the gym fiasco.

You shrugged. “Yeah, but we can hide behind the stage if we need to.”

Haechan sighed. “I guess.”

You frowned. There was a stormy, dark cloud of defeat hanging over the group now and it disappointed you, even if it was justified. You said nothing, dragging your feet with them as you tried to neglect the agony tearing you apart. Brutal was an understatement.

The hallways were damn near packed with monsters, as if they were making sure there was no stone left unturned. No place they hadn’t searched. That thought alone was scary as all hell. With every new corner, the three of you were forced to check each angle before you proceeded down the hall.

It was hard to keep your head in the game when you couldn’t help but vividly remember the lives that had been stolen plain in your face without consequence. One after another, back to back. You were channeling the despair into strength and spunk, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

Hopelessness was nothing new to someone like you, but this was a different breed of misery; you could feel the ache in every breath you took and all the while, you had to ignore how limited they felt, because you didn’t want to lose faith altogether. You had to keep telling yourself that this wasn’t the end even if you could hardly believe it.

You felt sick as you thought of Johnny and Victoria. They should have been happy together, and now you had to pray that their souls were united and at peace. You thought of Taeyong, who had been nothing but nurturing and tender to everyone who loved, but you couldn’t do anything to save him. Xiu who was sweet and deserved a chance with Mark as much as he deserved one with her.

And Jaehyun whose smile you were picturing in your mind and shattering apart at the thought of never seeing again. You wished you could have done more for them. You could still hear their screams and the agonized sound was something you would always remember.

Mark put his hand up, making you and Haechan halt in your tracks behind him in the middle of a broad wall. You figured he’d heard something. He crept closer to investigate, slowly peeking his head around the corner to get an idea what was going on.

In the next second, Mark was blindsided and yanked the other way. He cried out as he disappeared behind the corner.

“Mark,” you called out, eyes widening. You managed to grapple him in the nick of time and forcibly pull him back into you, sighing in relief when you realized he was unharmed. You had been one second away from losing him indefinitely.

Haechan turned the corner with his gun and began shooting anything that moved without mercy. You hated the sound of gunshots and every single one startled you more than the last, but you understood that they were a necessary evil which were aiding in your survival.

The monsters started dropping like flies and you stilled like you’d been struck by lightning when you recognized the one that had grabbed Mark. It was Jaehyun. A little more bloody, a little more pale, but you knew Jaehyun when you saw him. He hardly looked the same without life.

You saw the bullet piercing his forehead and knew that this was the last you’d ever seen of him unless it was in your dreams.

Mark went slack beside you. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he was thinking the exact same thing you were.

Haechan, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed. He was too busy firing away at the flock of monsters in front of you. With how shocked you were, you failed to realize there was another one stealthily creeping behind you until Mark jolted, hollering out in pain.

Your protective instincts kicked in. You weren’t thinking about your own health or safety. You just knew you wanted to protect your little brother with your life and you fought and struggled with the monster, prying him away.

But it was too late. Mark had been bitten. The infection was stronger than your desire to save him, no matter how badly you wanted it. You barely dodged Mark when he lunged at you and tried to get a hold of your arm, your eyes widening in horror at your worst fear coming to life.

“No. God, please,” you whimpered, the defeat finally starting to catch up to you. You couldn’t win this battle. Not when your undoing had been guaranteed from the start.

Haechan gaped, but he didn’t let you falter. You had to stay in motion. Which meant being confined to an eternity of running, and you were beginning to realize it would just be easier to give up. Wordlessly, he handed you the gun, the message obvious. You know what you have to do.

You shook your head. The gun burned your hands. Though you knew that head shots were the only sure-fire way of neutralizing anyone who had been infected, you also figured it would kill them permanently. And you couldn’t do that.

“I’m not killing him,” you told Haechan, backing away. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

Haechan exhaled through his nose. “We have to do something quickly or we’ll be cornered.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. It felt like the world was spinning. You were nauseous and sick to your stomach, the most cruel shudder wrecking through your body as you fought the urge to sob.

Finally, knowing you had no other option, you aimed the gun. Mark slumped to the ground, clutching the wound in his leg. Like hell you were going to kill him. “I hope we can fix you,” you whispered poignantly, handing Haechan back the weapon and facing the other way.

You refused to look at Mark anymore. You had failed to protect your own brother. He was your responsibility, your family. The person you were supposed to be there for through thick and thin. And you let him down in the worst way possible.

Haechan gave chase, calling out your name. “Wait!”

Not turning around, you kept walking. You were at your breaking point. “How could you ask me to do that?”

Haechan replied, “He’s dead! There’s nothing we can do for him now whether you shoot him in the head or not. He would have wanted you to protect yourself.”

You whipped around and exclaimed, “You don’t know that! There has to be something we can do.”

Haechan was quick to ask, “Like what, baby? You really think they’ve got some anti-zombie virus remedy cooked up and ready to hand out? That’s just not realistic.”

“What if it was me?”

Haechan rooted in place, his feet fixed to the ground as his eyes flickered with surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you snapped. “What if I had gotten bitten? Would you have shot me?”

Haechan swallowed. “You can’t ask me something like that.”

That only served to make you angrier. It was the same damn situation, as far as you were concerned. Losing someone you cared deeply about and being forced into making a tough choice. “Why not?”

“Because it’s different,” Haechan huffed.

“How?”

Raising his voice ever so slightly, Haechan replied, “I don’t know. It just is!”

You didn’t realize that your volume had attracted more attention until it was too late. You could feel the dread flooded into your bloodstream before you even knew why. When you glanced up, you saw monsters approaching you both at every turn, at every angle.

At that moment, you accepted defeat. You knew you had no chance at victory. Even if you fought until the very end, rebelled against everything inside you that wanted to surrender in hope of survival, you knew it would be pointless. You would run out of bullets at some point exactly like how you’d run out of will. And you were already running on empty.

If you somehow survived this, you would wish that you hadn’t. How could you live after seeing what you had seen, constantly reminded of what you’d lost?

Haechan was on the same page. You couldn’t escape this, no matter how hard you tried. He laced his fingers through yours and confessed again, “I love you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears were dripping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. “I love you too,” you whispered.

Haechan nodded, releasing your hand to throw his arms around your waist from behind.

His teeth sank into your neck.

#lee haechan smut #haechan smut #nct #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut

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ratedfleur · 5 months ago

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… prince!jake who took a liking into the head guard’s daughter who recently became a maid for his sister..

jake knew it was practically impossible to be able to have even a brief moment with you when he knew that you were like his sister’s tail, so he quickly formulated a plan that he wish he could execute well.

waltzing through the halls, jake walked gracefully with a hum accompanying him, smile gently placed on his face as he greeted those maids and palace guards that he passed by as he made his way towards his little sister’s piano room.

he didn’t bother to knock and instead he quickly and quietly slipped into the room like a mice looking for cheese, and alas, you were right there standing prettily by the wall as his sister, julie, was gracefully playing the piano.

julie's fingers came crashing down when she caught a whiff of jake’s wood-like perfume when he tried to walk past her, an array of notes came when her fingers harshly pressed the piano keys, “oppa, why are you here?” julie says, face stoic as she turned her head to look at jake who cheekily smiled at her, clearly caught in the act as he stood straight with his hands clasped together.

“oh nothing, can’t i just hang with you? i mean, you have a few weeks before you’re to be sent off to london, can’t i bond with my baby sister?” jake asks, eyes clearly pure and innocent as he spoke to julie.

furrowing her brows at him, she dismisses him with a wave of the hand before she turned her head to face the piano once more, “i suppose you could stay.. oppa, please just don’t interrupt me while i play this last song then i guess we could hang.” she says while making air quotations.

smiling triumphantly, jake quickly makes his way beside you who let out a little sound when he stood beside you, merely a few inches apart from you.

you knew you couldn’t look jake straight in the eye when he turned his head to look at you, you simply kept your head down, eyes fixated on the ground as your hands fiddled around with themselves despite seeing jake’s feet turn to face you.

“you are permitted to look at me, you know? i don’t bite unlike that little dragon over there.” jake jokes, making you purse your lips into a line as you turned your head as you looked up at jake, eyes innocently looking at jake’s sharp ones that curve into a smile when he meets eyes with you.

seeing that you were shy, jake turns back to avoid your gaze, hearing you take a little breath of relief when he does turn away from you. you kept your eyes fixated on your master who continued to gracefully play the piano, a soft melody emitting from the piano which echoed all over the piano room.

now that you’ve seen jake a little up close, you noticed how your young master had the same features as the man, she had puppy like features, much like an angrier and fiercer version of jake’s softer ones.

despite nearly resembling each other, their personalities were far from the same. just like their different features, it was exactly the same as their personalities. jake had the puppy-like and friendly personality whilst your young master was blunt and stoic.

lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice how jake was quietly speaking to you, “… here?” jake asks, head slightly turned to look at you.

flustered, you turned your body to face him before you bowed as an apology, “apologies, my lord.. could you repeat that? i wasn’t paying attention..” you say shyly, eyes still avoiding jake’s who had his eyes curled up into a smile as he chuckled.

“i said, how are you liking it here? it hasn’t been long since you moved to the palace, am i mistaken?” jake asks once more, eyes twinkling when you do nod because he made sure that your stay in the palace is well, always reminding his maid to take care of you in his behalf.

silence blankets itself over you both, making jake's eyes dart from all over the room as he thought of another topic, clearly i didn't think this through, jake thought to himself.

"have you seen the new garden? aren't the new flowers marvelous?" jake asks, pointing over to the window where the garden could be seen.

your eyes twinkle, making jake smile when you ramble about the new flowers you’ve planted for the dear queen a few weeks ago.

"i just think the garden looks breathtaking with the new peruvian lilies– were.. were you listening?" you ask as you turned your head to look at jake who seemed uninterested in your ramble, his eyes were empty before he blinked at you.

"you're pretty." jake says blankly before your cheeks flush red when jake's own cheeks mirror your own, his eyes avoid yours as he looks on the ground before the huge doors push open, revealing the king who's eyes immediately land on jake's guilty ones.

"jake, come along. do remember not to bother julie when she's making use of her practice time." the king's voice booms in the room as jake sheepishly smiles at you, bidding his goodbyes before leaving alongside the king.

#mikha's brainrots #enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #jake imagines #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake soft hours #jake soft thoughts

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danger-noodle-uwu · 1 year ago

Text

Trigger warning [mentions of killing/arguments/death/break-ups/cheating/etc]

Satan

Wrath is vengeful, wrath is destruction however this never bothered you or got in the way of dating Satan, The Avatar of wrath himself.

But as one could say, the true nature of a being could never remain under the covers. There was vengeance peering above the surface, and destruction awaiting at an unknown's doors, you did not knew.

Satan had great many contacts and to keep that up, he need to do few favors but not every favor was not-so-bloody. And lost in such an expectations of others did he forget an important day like today.

As always the day started as chaos, which couldn't have been helped either way and the blond had grown sick of that, unknown to the cause of chaos and decided to act upon the list he had, completely overlooking your smile, or the stunning outfit complimenting your figure or the day itself.

Upon this ignorance of his, you really wished face-palm. His demeanor was rather annoying, which only fueled you more to smack him. Really hard.

Today was well-planned, at least that's what you thought before dragging him away from his target and scolding him for leaving you on your own in a place crawling with demons.

Satan being the literal embodiment of wrath yet also your lover said "Get off me. I have things to do. And stop being so damn clingy." "Hey, it's your fault for leaving me on my special day!plus, there's sooo many things I wanna do toda–"

"Please shut up for once in your goddamn life!!" His sharp scream cut you off as his eyes bore into yours; eyes full of hatred and disgust as if you were a wretched grotesque placed before him.

Those words accompanied by his harsh glares was enough to make your heart shatter and knifes to be jabbed in your chest while eyes stung with tears that you pathetically hid by averting them as you asked "what did I do wrong..?"

Who knew that one sentence was enough to make those unshed tears flow and litter your rosy cheeks that he'd usually squish and fawn over but alas, all that comforted you was his back.

"Your whole being is the most ugliest!" Lies. Lies. He knew his tongue spat venom at you with words that could never be true because you're his world but the blinding rage doesn't allow him to say so and thus instead, his hand runs through golden locks out of pure frustration as he finally turned to face you.

There was something terrifying about him that very moment which made you mumble out a small "...I'm sorry..." before running off; the sharp pain in your heart only grew with him staring at you like that. It was all just too much. His wrath was suffocating you but to ruin your birthday without even remembering it.

You did didn't care for how bad your muscles ached as you ran further away from him. All that you wanted is to be alone and cry your heart out in hopes that this agony would subside yet part of you hoped that he cared and would come after you or stop you. Which never happened.

Satan has always been so...uncooperative and complicated towards everyone that it almost made him unreachable at times especially when it comes to Lucifer however today, it became different.

His face was scrunched and tense as Lucifer advised him to give you space before talking things out and perhaps getting you a gift as well for both an apology and your birthday; his body pacing back and forth in his room reconsidering things he's spoke until now, not even bothered to consider this as a special day while his elder patiently waited for him to calm down. They both how much you mean to Satan despite him hurting you and making you feel unwanted.

And would anyone look at the avatar of wrath while he's on his knees; practically begging to set things write and for you to accept his apology. However much like always, you don't fail at surprising him when your lips clumsily crash against his.

That he moment he knew how truly beautiful you are in every sense. From physical appearance to your dream-like soul. Every inch was perfect.

Asmodeus

'Touchy and irresponsible as always' you sighed looking over and frowning at Asmodeus who was so clearly lost in the seemingly endless attention they give him as their hands roam his body while he's biting his lip. He was enjoying this, wasn't he?

The thought of him being touched by somebody else made your stomach churn and eyes sting with hurt and envy; he was the avatar of lust, true but couldn't he not do this on your birthday at least and pay attention to you.

You could bet as to how pathetic you were looking drinking demonus with tears in your eyes and surrounded by demons who could just swallow you whole without your lover even batting an eye. Afterall, he'd rather be someone's bed warmer than your boyfriend.

"Hey...are you okay?" Honestly, you didn't know this stranger's name or anything about him but he still had some concern for your well-being; way more than your beloved however made you self-conscious as how pathetic you may have appeared and let your emotions get the best of you in front of unknown people.

"Yea..." you replied flushed from embarrassment and the crimson liquid that rested in your glass. It was really humiliating and made you feel awfully shy at the same time.

"If you say so, but don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything bothering you or if—" He leans closer to whisper in your ear before continuing "—someone's bothering you..." His voice was authoritative yet gentle much akin to a soft breeze from the human world despite being a demon.

"Oh! And I'm Ethan..." a blush ghosted over his cheeks as he realized that he hadn't even introduced himself while you told him yours as he gave you his number offering to help you just in case.

Truth be told, you were smiling to yourself glancing on the tissue that he wrote his number on and the fact that he even wrote happy to help made you grin wider. It was such a sweet gesture.

However unknownst to you, Asmo seemed to have noticed the whole interaction and was fuming with envy; so jealous that he could put Levi to shame. His face burned with heat and beads of sweat rolled down. He hated how that putrid demon had the audacity to flirt and blush at you yet his anger only stirred further when you smiled at him.

The avatar of lust stormed over to you and dragging you out of the fall, harsh grip on your wrist that would probably leave a bruise and then slammed you against the cold wall in the alleyway.

"What are you—!!" You were muffled by his lips smashing against yours; hands roaming your body as desire burned in your veins. Lips synced and danced against each other into a steamy make-out session however he pulled away.

"Why were you flirting with that guy?! You know that demons can hurt you then why my darling must you do this?!" It was irritating as to how he interrogated you but didn't even consider his own actions and the way he neglected you.

Did he even remember your birthday..?

"You say this as if YOU weren't smothering some random people in front of your girlfriend on OUR date!!" And finally, he realized what he's been doing all day. He was avoiding and ignoring you, too busy and consumed by his own...thoughts while you constantly tried to spend quality time with him.

"Baby...I'm sorry..." He coos gently holding your face and cradling you as tears cascaded your face. You looked so miserable because him and he made an internal promise to treat you better and not neglect your emotions.

"Y-you even forgot my birthday..." you sobbed into his soft hands as his eyes widened before he kissed you again. This time much gently and lovingly; full of adoration and affection but desperate for you.

You knew he meant it but forgiving is easier said than done. Even if you would accept him, it'd much later as for now, you wanted him to show is emotions; his real self that was vulnerable and loving; one that was guilty of hurting you. One that loved you beyond his own sin.

You would be lying if you said your heart wasn't melting for him as his hand intertwined with yours while the other rested around your waist and blush littered his face; all for you.

All of him softened just for you; all those emotions showered upon you because all of his love was meant for you.

Beelzebub

Gluttony is like a venom that spreads in your body; turning one into a hungry beast ready to devour his prey and another into a starved being—but for somebody who personified the sin in itself would be beyond a monster or an other horrendous creature imaginable.

Thus, can you really blame Beelzebub for ingesting the whole food supply of house of lamentation alongside of some cutlery after a seemingly intense workout as well 7 hours of helping satan shift his books in order to clean the empty space.

He was salivating at the sight of everything before as his vision molded it into something edible...delicious and well; in front of him were you, standing there awkwardly as his eyes hovered over you however not in a lustful but more like a locking the meat of your bones manner.

"B-beel, you alright..?" His intense gaze made you feel uncomfortable as you shifted in your place yet he didn't blink once as if his hunger overtook him...making him forget who you were.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't move an inch without him lunging at you with those eyes full of hunger for anything to satiate the emptiness within his stomach including you. However, Luck was on your side since it was your own birthday as Asmodeus happened to pass by the scene hoisting his phone up taking selfish before rushing towards you.

"Darling, Beel, what are you guys... doing?" By the end of his question, he knew what was coming. He is well aquaintated with Beel's endless hunger that violently shook the atmosphere in the whole house.

As you stood unblinking staring back at the avatar of gluttony trembling with fear whilst his ragged breaths were heard in the silence of the hall. The very next second he pounced at you transforming into his demon form; claws beared as if he was readily about to rip your heart out.

Yet somehow you were alive; alive and thrown over like a sack of potatoes on Asmo's shoulder as he sprinted towards his room with an echoing sound of certain rumbling in the background that made shiver in dread.

"Honey, you're alright. You're safe, okay? Phew!" He collapsed next to you on the floor next to you after ensuring the door was properly locked, clearly out of breath while still attempting to comfort your troubled form.

Despite knowing he cannot control his hunger, you couldn't help but tighten your throat or fall victim to the ache plastered within your chest. He loves you, you know it but this...hurt more than expected.

The clutches of gluttony were like shackles that bound him and drove him to try to...the thought alone makes you want throw up or is it because his twin succeeded at a similar task.

"Hey...Mc, don't cry, darling. It'll all be okay, I promise! Forget everything it's your birthday, isn't it?" The blond cradled you in his arms trying to shush away your tears meanwhile you sobbed and cried; planned everything, got up early to bake for him and even got the tickets to a movie he was excited about.

"It's so unfair! So unfair, Asmo!!" Why did this have to happen when all you did was try your best? Why are you doomed to fail at every given task? Was this all your fault?

Such thoughts consumed you wholly as your sobs turned into more cries that dragged Asmo's poor heart along with it; it hurt him so much to see someone he considered family be hurt so much. To be broken that they're reduced to a teary mess on the floor.

In the hallway, Lucifer and Satan towered upon Beelzebub who finally calmed down, happily chomping the food he was given; almost uncaring of his twin that laid kissing the ground with a large bruise forming on his forehead.

"W-where *chomp* is cupcake?" He muttered with a mouthful, thinking you must be hungry and not even remembering what he did as he was a puppet under the control of his sin.

"In Asmodues's room..." Lucifer sighed while Satan raged at the sight of the havoc wrecked upon his book—cursed ones, collector's edition, etc. They were everywhere torn into half or bites into and discarded afterwards.

"They must be sobbing since you were ever so nice to them on their birthday!" Satan mocked knowing how badly his brother fucked up while the orange head gushed the memories right into his eyes. Each moment he made a decision worse than the other.

"Oh my poor Mc, sleep well..." you didn't realize how exhausted you were from the whole event that you passed out between Asmo's arms who later tucked you within the comforting confines of your own bed.

But peace never really lasted long as you woke up, only to be greeted by a decorated room, a cake with several other snacks littered on the table and Beelzebub by your side with apologetic eyes as a melody played accompanied by the voices belonging to the remaining brothers.

"I'm sorry, cupcake...I didn't mean to scare you or hurt you, I just don't know what's wrong with me but please forgive me...I love you..." His eyes bore guilt as he was reminded of an older time, an older mistake before his hands caged yours affectionately before kissing them lovingly.

The orange headed demon never wished to be more than your protector, that gives away his life to save yours but also a lover that wants to build a family with you; one that he loves dearer than himself.

Belphegor

Does fate really hate you? If not, why must it be you who suffers with people misunderstanding you or blaming you for actions not performed by you?

"Come on, it's not that bad...just a stupid nightmare!" You hopped onto your feet before changing into your outfit for the day; one that made you feel good about yourself unlike the haunting nightmares that weren't leaving you alone.

As you left your room trying your best to force a smile out, there was a voice that felt familiar as it belonged to a certain great demon who bestowed the wishes of having the best birthday.

"Happy birthday, h-human!" He spoke loudly as if reminding the others of the day despite the whole hall being empty. The gesture in itself was funny, his hand putting your head like a puppy except for the part he himself looked like one.

"Thanks, mammon." And there it was your signature smile that could possibly make anybody melt, though how could you believe it; a rose can never see its reflection.

Reaching the dining hall, the atmosphere felt tense as if everyone was on edge, all but one person. He was missing entirely. Belphegor wasn't there. Was he still asleep?

Before you could ask, Lucifer announced "Belphegor will not be joining us today." And continued to finish his breakfast with what seemed to be a bothered expression.

"Hey beel, what happened?" You couldn't help wonder what did your boyfriend did this time to piss of the eldest and if so, why wasn't satan assisting the crime. "Belphi, h-he said some really mean things..." beelzebub was feeling guilty fill up his stomach, his appetite dying or perhaps killed by someone else.

"Okay..." you knew that the orange headed demon was hiding something, swallowing his own words however why you just couldn't decipher. His voice was strained that it made you feel very uneasy about what really conspired when you were asleep.

"Levi, can you tell me what really happened? Please!!" You pleaded with puppy eyes as soon as the remaining brothers had dispersed from the dining hall; to avoid the extra ears and overly exaggerated explanations.

"Normie, first off promise me you won't tell anybody that i told you this!" He whisper-yelled as you nodded your head vigorously. "Okay--fine, so belphi woke up in a super sour mood and since lucifer decided to call him to the dining hall himself...he said a lot of mean things..."

Leviathan felt a bitter taste in his mouth knowing his next words would most likely ruin your birthday and put you into doubt of your own relationship and partner.

"He spoke a lot of nonsense about lucifer, you know normie...And he--um, he said you weren't that great and just kinda wasted his time w-which is like total bullshit, right? Like normie, you're like Henry 3.0, totally cool and awesome!" He tried his best to soothe the wound he had to give you in order for the truth to be told.

But there it was, a sound of your own heart being crushed and sensation of wet tears dripping down your cheeks. It hurt you so much to hear that your lover spoke of you behind your back that you couldn't take it anymore and sprinted all the way back to your room; leaving Leviathan to only his worry and concern in the dining hall.

Especially on your birthday, that in itself felt like a cheap move being played on you as you felt needles pricking through your chest, and it hurt so much. It felt like the nightmares were true when they played the same scenario where he used you; he used you like a pawn.

Meanwhile, in the twins' room, Belphegor laid in bed with a weird feeling filling him; one that felt so heavy that he couldn't sleep it off. But why? He just couldn't pinpoint.

"Belphi, have spoken with Mc yet? It's their birthday...you should really go to see them..." the avatar of gluttony had his head lowered as he pouted; visibly hungry but at a lack of food.

"WHAT!" "Yea its their birthday, belphi..?" Belphegor panicked for at least 5 minutes before gathering himself and rushing to the kitchen to make something--a cake, should it be okay but what if you're craving ramen instead..? Or something salty? SHIT

He's never been so frantic and panicked; he felt like a single mother raising 6 children...wait why does that sound familiar? ANYWAYS, no time for that.

It took about 2 hours for the whole thing to be prepared; while he had tasked satan to buy your favorite snacks. In the end, he was drenched in sweat from the whole last minute preparation that he did.

On the other hand, you were passed out on your bed; tears dried up on your face and slightly puffy lips and very gracelessly flopped onto your bed.

Belphegor's heart ached at the sight of you, he knew his words have been heard by someone who didn't deserve them. Who deserved love and not such cruel things.

"Love, wake up...c'mon its your birthday..." He voice was gentle as if a one wrong word could shatter you like glass and his hands caressed your cheeks; before kissing you passionately.

You rubbed your eyes as your boyfriend kissed your forehead and pulled you off of the bed. He was smothering you with kisses somewhat lazily; letting eachone feel feather like on your skin.

"Happy birthday my star, I'm sorry for what is said earlier...I promise you that I never meant any of it...I just--lost myself to anger, I'm sorry." He's efforts were visible in both his voice and your room; the blanket Fort certainly seemed impressive and most likely he had your favorite movie paused.

"It's not okay to speak such things about you're partner belphi on any day let alone their birthday. Yet I am much kinder than you think...I forgive you." You pouted with fake anger evident in your voice; playing pretend was fun as hr fell for your words in the beginning but definitely caught up in the end.

And as the day came to a close, you both were snuggled into each other's warmth and cuddling; the harsh words and hot tears forgotten or perhaps changed into smiles of contentment.

Afterall, belphegor was your dark sky and you were his star; without one the other would feel empty and out of place. He was the one who wanted to drown into the depths with you or burn with the passion he held for you...And both remain a pleasure to him...

--------------------------------------

A/n; I had no ideas for belphi and was abt to write he slept that it off like he was in a coma xD

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whalesforhands · 8 days ago

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what’s yours is mine (11/?)

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pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“Ya sure y’er an Omega?” He’s sniffing at your neck, his nose directly against where the ‘scent glands’ are meant to be as you spread your arms out, chin tilted up and slumping your shoulder a little more to give him better access. “Maybe the paper’s wrong, cause,”

Another deep inhale.

“You don’t smell like anything.” You hear several more, purposefully loud breaths in, maybe a nudge of your arm and Gojo Satoru’s hand patting your shoulder before his head is lifted off and away.

“Then I guess Mama was right about the medicine working.” You perk up, satisfied with the result as you nod to yourself, proud hands on your hips as you stand before your friends.

(All 3 of them failed to smell anything. Well… Other than Shoko saying that you smelled like pretty laundry detergent.)

“If it’s working right, then Mama’s got nothing to worry about anymore!” Your cheers settle when you plop down next to a contemplating Suguru, opening your mouth and letting him feed you another cracker as you hum in delight.

“Then she’ll let me go and hang out with you all more often.”

Your Mama has been awfully protective for a while… No, you’re pretty sure she’s been extra protective ever since those test results were confirmed. So many trips to go see Dr. Homura, so many times they had to poke those needles into your arm, so many times you had to suck it up and drink yucky stuff in cups; before it switched over to swallowing pills.

(At least Dr. Homura isn’t stingy when it comes to treats. You’ve collected at least 4 different full-sized chocolate bars from her… And some smaller snacks from all the hospital staff who cooed at how cute you were.)

Alas, you don’t think you mind… Not all that much with the changes in your life, anyway. It must come with the responsibilities of being 12.

“Your neck needs to be covered.” Mama’s hands are gentle when she tugs your sweater up, fastening the button tightly and double checking that it was on securely as she readjusts it— For probably the nth time as you stood waiting by the front door for her to finish.

(It was in the middle of summer, but you’re willing to wear anything your Mama picks out for you.)

“…no. I can’t let you go swimming today.” Your eyes are downcast as your hopeful smile slowly fades, the brochure you were holding up in your hands slowly retracting alongside all your dreams of being able to cool down in this hot summer alongside your friends. You guess you won’t be able to check off the pool in Saya-chan’s ‘Ultimate Summer Planning!’ guide.

Mama’s touch is always soft. Delicate and always careful when she holds you close and hugs you tight late into the night. “You can’t tell anyone, okay?” Her eyes are serious as she holds your hand, only the whirring of the fan and the rustling of your soft futon heard alongside her quiet voice on this cool summer night.

“They don’t need to know.”

“Why’s your mama so worried anyway?” Shoko’s head is tilted to the side as she munches on another chip, a hand underneath cupping her chin as she stares at you, brown eyes lax and— Concentrated. “You have us around.”

“The dangers of being an Omega! Saya-san, have you ever experienced anything as scary as our viewer did?” The man— You don’t remember his name, but the funny glasses he wears, the slightly oversized suit he dons with that familiar label… That’s the new host of your favourite news talkshow, you’re pretty sure.

(And Saya-chan was as pretty as ever today.)

“My! It’s quite hard to say nowadays since my agency always provides me with plenty of bodyguards whenever I go outside.” She’s gentle when she laughs, demure with a hand over her mouth— The epitome of your perfect Saya-chan.

“Oh wow! What a protective bunch, eh?” He laughs too loudly, eyes crinkled too much and voice too rough for your liking. “Say, Saya-san, as one of the most sought after Omegas in the industry, do you think your fame was attributed solely because of your secondary gender?”

Hmph. What a rude man. You cross your arms and pout at the screen, clearly angry and glaring at the camera that had now panned towards his face. The last host was definitely more polite than he will ever be, and definitely 100 times better than he is, given the sudden quiet atmosphere.

“Ahaha, Yoshida-san…”

“I mean, come on! You’re a gorgeous woman Saya-san, and being an Omega on top of that! It’s almost like the system is working out a little too perfectly for you!”

You will never understand how some people can be so utterly, shamelessly rude.

“I think Mama’s just being cautious. She likes to prevent lots of stuff before something bad happens, you know?” Like how she spots dark clouds in the skies and rushes out to collect the laundry before even a speck of rain hits the ground, how she always warns you about your sugar intake— Before inevitably taking most of your sweets away before you get a cavity.

(Prevention is always better than cure. A hard lesson you finally understood when you got sick all those years back and missed out on one of the most important sport festivals ever.)

“Your mama’s right though,” Suguru pats your shoulder to make you turn your face, a cracker hovering near your mouth as you cheerfully; obediently part your lips to be fed another.

“It isn’t a bad thing to be too careful.”

——

“So? How much?” His foot is tapping against the ground, his lips humming dismissively as he writes a couple more ‘0’s at the back of the already too large number with his unsharpened pencil. “It’s still not a lot, but you usually give in by now cause ya get so stressed at the amount.”

It was just an accidental throwaway, something that left your head on a whim through the mishandling of the craft scissors.

“Ah.” It nicks you, an open cut right upon your finger as you stare on, not quite fully registering the pain as you watch beads of red coalesce. It stings slightly, makes you flinch back when you finally register that this was supposed to hurt— And that you should not be debating which ones of your funky bandaids would look nice on it.

You know this. It was like that scene in the drama that plays just before the daily nighttime reports, just like that one scene when the main character gets a ‘life threatening, disfiguring’ injury upon their beautiful face— They’d say their one line as tragic music plays and the director cuts to an angle that made the ‘loss’ of their still very apparent beauty all the more dramatic.

“Now nobody will ever marry me!”

(You always wanted to say that, really. So dramatic, so flamboyant…)

Just that you said it with a lot less emotion, no tears, a lot less actorly and as a quiet whisper underneath your breath and solely for your own amusement.

You didn’t think that anyone would actually hear your silly little scene.

“I’d marry you.” His eyes are already meeting yours, the shine in his azure gaze something so clear, so much so that you aren’t unfamiliar with what you’re looking at as face off against full-on seriousness and feel an undeniable, unshaken will.

And that honestly gave you more questions than why they don’t try to disfigure the pretty actors enough for them to actually look like they had something actually terrible to them. Mama was right about drama quality going down these days.

(So what’s a little challenge to your ever all-knowing Satoru?)

“What if I had acid burn off all my skin and I become a zombie?” Your arms cross and press against yourself just in case, hugging and patting against skin that you hoped would stay on for a long, long time. It sounds painful to even imagine losing it.

“I’d get someone to reverse curse technique your skin back on.” He huffs as if you were stupid, his cheeks puffed up momentarily and his eyes glaring, as if annoyed at your question.

(How dare you try to question him?)

“What if I lost both my eyes and can’t see?” It’s honestly a real fear of yours. You quite like your eyes— Quite like being able to sit and quietly admire your friends, your Mama, the people around you… Especially when they think you aren’t looking.

“Duh. Whaddya think my technique’s called Six Eyes for? I can see more than enough for the both of us, dummy.”

(Makes sense. Satoru really is smart.)

“What if I wanted a lot, a lot, a lot of money and it’s more than you can afford?” Because… Do rich people ever run out of money? Maybe you’ve just been watching too many news reports about million, billion, trillionaires losing their fortunes after being outed for fraud.

(Maybe you have been watching too much television. At least you learned that you should ‘freeze your assets’. If your freezer can even hold all your savings, anyway.)

One blink. Maybe two. You see him think about it momentarily, a hand on his chin contemplating your words… Before he grins again, his brows quirked up in amusement and his voice dripping with the ego that he had always possessed.

“I’d laugh cause y’er too smart to think that would actually ever happen.” He even ends haughtily, all smug grin and crossed arms, narrowed eyes and simply radiating confidence that nobody would dare to trump.

“But if it’s money ya want, how much? I can probably give ya enough to make you be my friend forever.”

(He’s Gojo Satoru, after all. Who exactly did you think you were talking to?)

“Don’t ever let anyone buy you over to marry you.” Suguru holds both of your hands in his— Or was it more accurate to say that he gripped them tight; squeezed them with an affirmation paired with a look so serious? Regardless of it, he was so gentle, so soft. Your Suguru is always so lovely. “You deserve more than that.”

(“And definitely more than that greedy vacuum.”)

“Hey! Don’t listen to the guy with Weird Bangs! He looks shady for a good reason!”

“Don’t listen to the ugly snowman with no morals!”

——

Ieiri Shoko thinks she enjoys her elementary school life, no matter how rundown, not at all high class, near peasant-level her school looked and felt. No matter how childish she thinks the sailor uniform was, no matter how this new school’s cafeteria’s food tasted.

It was almost pitiful, makes her think that she had picked the wrong choice, given that this was her second public school and it was all still so… Plain.

The teachers are average. Painfully average. Skills, materials, passion— It was all very lacking, always left her expecting more. Wasn’t it odd? Wasn’t it off? That someone of her caliber, that her, an Ieiri, was attending a public middle school?

She wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for how almost the entirety of high-society Jujutsu families whispering about how a Gojo chose to attend public school.

Muttering under their breaths about how it was preposterous, about how inappropriate for someone of their social standings to be delegated to some no-name brand of a school. A school that was painfully ordinary, at that.

Perhaps that was the pushing point. The fact that Gojo Satoru’s actions got under their skin, pricked at their painfully boring thoughts and pierced through their closed-off mentality that Ieiri Shoko decided… That it sounded fun.

And that was all, really. She’s lucky her parents don’t care too much, lucky that she could ask for whatever and get it placed into her open palm with just a single request. Especially when that request was to transfer to the same elementary school as her once-almost-fiancé, Gojo Satoru.

(Who would deny it? Perhaps her parents even thought that she finally had an interest in the snowy-haired prodigy.

Ha. Not even in a million years.)

Of course, the plan was to just have a little look-see and tour this unfortunate looking place that the spoiled Gojo kid found so interesting.

She didn’t expect to find that she actually enjoyed her time here, not when she was actively swatting off the pesky flies that tried to bother her short little respite here.

Here. As in, the back of the classroom where she could read all the manga she could to her liking— Because who wouldn’t like this breathing space away from stuck-up tutors and high-strung educators who were needlessly strict?

She wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone. Not that she wanted to anyway, but it makes her feel better to at least think like she was actually trying.

…so what exactly was she doing here with you, the one directly connected to the boy she just couldn’t stand?

“And this is the playground! Satoru doesn’t like strangers here, but you don’t count cause he already knows you.” You’re… Touching her. Holding her hand like it was nothing as you pointed at the most obvious playground equipment anybody would know the names of.

It’s stupid.

“I like to c’mere a lot to think by myself.” You hum, settled comfortably on top of the slide as you lean back, your knees to your chest as you close your eyes and enjoy the summer breeze. “Especially nowadays when Satoru’s too busy with some stuff and Suguru’s got martial arts club.”

Weird. You’re weird. Don’t you know that both of them are very obviously cursed technique users? Does she have to spell it out for you? Why are they even—

“So I hope you don’t mind hanging out with me, Ieiri-san.” The sunlight catches in your eyes, your skin warmed by light rays that made you look like you were glittering under the setting sun’s orange glow. “I’m happy that you even want to talk to me.”

Yet, she thinks that it might not be so bad after-all, not when you’re sleeping on her lap, your head positioned on her thighs and her hand in your hair upon this familiar, very expensive wooden bench— That she got her maids to put pillows on.

(Just to outdo Gojo Satoru. Nothing else, really.)

“She looks comfortable.” Geto Suguru is sat close. Right by your other side as you continued to sleep, your breaths quiet and your eyes closed in such undisturbed serenity that it just felt wrong to wake you.

“That’s cause she is.”

“She could’ve slept on my shoulder.” It’s out as an almost huff, another flip of the page of the book he was reading as all of you sit together in serene peace.

“But she chose mine.” It satisfies her to know that she’s got the upper hand in this situation, that she has an advantage over the boy whose emotions she can never properly discern.

“It was just the angle, Ieiri.” Suguru huffs, eyes flippantly glaring at the words of the book he was meant to be reading— Before they met smug coffee-brown. “You don’t have to look that proud.”

“Sad that you weren’t the 1st pick?”

“You wish.”

Ieiri Shoko wouldn’t say that there was nothing between her and the other… Commoner. Wouldn’t say that she disliked or liked him just yet, for even she was confused on how a bond somehow ended up forming between them despite him, Geto Suguru not being up to par in terms of family standing or wealth.

(But with that cursed technique and natural talent for Jujutsu… No wonder he too took the Jujutsu society by storm, especially when it was discovered that the Gojo family had started training him.)

It was a solidarity formed simply by them being the sanest ones out of your little quadruple. Well, sane and actually cohesive when he was separated from the Gojo menace, anyway. Don’t get her wrong, you were cute, even had a good head on your shoulders— But you were far too easily swayed when it came to your friends.

It was almost scary how trusting you were of them.

“…if I ate it, I’ll really get better at using cursed energy…?” You’re staring at the green pepper clasped in between his chopsticks, hands subconsciously clasped over your mouth in protective defense as you watch the utensil hover near you.

And Geto Suguru was just far too practiced for you. A soft smile, his pretty purple eyes hidden behind upturned eyelids, head tilted so innocently to the side with his hair gently swishing along and exuding an air far too mellow for this situation.

“That’s right.”

(And Ieiri Shoko thinks that you’re kinda dumb, honestly. If being dumb in a good way existed, anyway.)

Maybe, only when the pinks and oranges in the clouds gather and start to hide the setting sun… That this thinks that this type of menial life wasn’t so bad afterall.

Ieiri Shoko thinks she really will enjoy her school life here, no matter how much the upper echelon of people will criticize her.

——

You’re 13 when you’re trying to sew the rip in your middle school uniform, the unfortunate tear a direct consequence of accidentally falling on your face and getting saved by a panicking classmate who was not at all very gentle with tugging at the collar of your poor sailor blouse to save you.

(Beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.)

It’s unfortunate, very much so as your eyes narrow and glare at the 3rd time you pricked yourself with a needle that didn’t want to agree with you.

(It’s definitely out to get you.)

The sound of jingling keys and the familiar way your door swings open thankfully saves your slightly mangled uniform from getting just that little bit more tattered.

The front door always creaks a little, always squeals a little too loud as you turn your head to meet familiar eyes that continue to smile regardless of fatigue, the sound of tumbling heels and a bag getting plopped onto the genkan’s old shoe cabinet.

“Mama, welcome back.”

Throughout the years, you don’t think you’ve ever been lonelier within your now slightly less empty home. You suppose it’s because when you’re older, you have to get newer stuff too. Just to match your age and the ever-changing times that the old people on TV are always complaining about.

There’s a new carpet, one softer than any of the ones you used to own. A new coffee table that didn’t shake every time your knee even grazes it wrong— And a new fancy coffee machine that Mama had been using a little too much.

(Courtesy of Geto-mama. She said it was to thank the both of you for being ‘such great neighbours’ and that ‘she hopes that you stay her neighbours forever’ with tears in her eyes.

Mama says it might be because Geto-mama’s rut was coming soon around that time.)

Mama even has a brand new, shiny job as an office lady. From a waitress running around an izakaya to a corporate worker who sat in an office chair all day.

You think it’s quite the Cinderella story in itself.

‘Never belittle your achievements, for a small step forward is still progress made!’

(You honestly liked her doing the waitressing one better. She came home at reasonable times, had some weekdays off and even brought extra food back.

Life was good when you could stuff yourself on the too many yakitori sticks she brought home.)

But everything comes to an end, you suppose. So you hope these aches Mama always gets in her shoulders do too as your hands knead into her back, little grunts escaping you as you really put your back into it.

“Ugh… How was— School today, sweetie?” Your mother sighs when you get another knot out, releasing her stiff shoulders when you press just right.

(An expected question. It was the 1st day of your new middle school after all.)

“I don’t like the uniform.” It’s slightly itchy, smells weird despite the wash in your slightly old washing machine and it wasn’t as cute as the ones you saw in all the animes you watched on TV. “It’s kinda uncomfortable.”

All because it was new. Oh, that and the unfortunate fact that your mother requested your skirt to be so long— Especially with the approaching summer soon to come, teasing stuffy, hot days and sweaty clothes.

(You don’t mind too much. Saya-chan says miniskirts are not in her top 3 favourite things to wear, after all.)

“Hmm…” She doesn’t give much of a reply, her back relaxing back into the couch and her shoulders stiffening a little more from her actions as you continue.

“The new medicine Dr. Homura gave me tastes funny too. It’s not as sweet as last time.”

You think for a little. Just a little, because this situation just requires too much of your careful attention.

“But I think it’s working okay. Suguru says I usually just smell like normal.”

“Suguru,” You tug on his sleeve, fingers having a death grip upon his uniform as you swallow. Nervously shifting your weight from a leg to the other as you hurriedly tug off the strap of your backpack, shifting your hair back as you reveal the side of your neck to him.

It only hits you now that you both were standing before the big gates of Gege Junior High, only hits you when your palms felt wet and uncomfortable, damp and nervous.

Because what if your medicine didn’t work and you somehow reveal the 1 thing Mama wanted you to keep under wraps?

“Check me again, please…” Your eyes feel like they’re going dry, pure anxiety coursing through you all at once.

Just to sate your worries.

“You shouldn’t ask just anyone to check like that,” There’s a hand on your shoulder to steady you, black strands of hair tickling your cheek as you subconsciously hold your breath.

You’re stiff when his nose grazes your neck, gently swiping against your skin as he leans in close, leans in near. His body feels so warm when there’s barely any distance between you, he smells of citrus, of lavender sprigs and soft vanilla.

“Okay?”

“Mm… Oh, and Satoru woke up late so he wasn’t even there for the opening ceremony.” He doesn’t really come to school anymore, so it was a pretty big deal when he showed up with a bedhead and bleary eyes behind a pair of sunglasses.

(And attracted a lot of attention.)

“Hmph…” He’s obviously tired, yawning with a lazy hand over his mouth as he leans on Suguru’s shoulder, a spot of drool making its way down his lip as fingers surreptitiously position themselves to flick at his forehead.

“Ow…” He barely even reacts even when Suguru hits, doesn’t even get up— And even purposely drops his body weight onto the poor boy’s sturdier form.

“Satoru— You idiot, wake up.” It’s hissed, annoyed. Yet lacking all the bite it was supposed to have as Geto simply lets the spoiled Gojo continue to do as he pleases… Albeit at his own detriment, given the eyes that were pinned onto the overtly close childhood friends.

“Serves ya right, ugly bangs…”

Middle school is gonna be okay, you think.

——

“(last name)-chan! I didn’t know you were so close with Geto-san!” You hear a dragging of a chair, only able to blink twice before there’s a lunch box clattering onto your desk. Hasty, unpracticed and rushed.

Taking you by surprise.

“Ah, huh?” You’re confused as you halt the search for the poor textbook that you were so sure you had packed last night after Suguru reminded you through the window.

(And that you were sure you hadn’t lent it to Satoru.)

But… How did she know?

“Hm? He came by yesterday to drop off something of yours, didn’t he? Even called you by your first name and everything.” You can hear the clatter of her chopsticks, the sounds of her plastic utensils getting unpacked. “You both must be quite close to be like that!”

“Or maybe… I’m wrong?” You see something diminish in her eyes, something akin to a sudden flicker of disinterest as her feet steady themselves as if they were about to leave.

“Uhm… No, I guess you’re right. We are friends,”You say it so matter-of-factly, so nonchalantly as your eyes zoom about near the collar of her uniform.

Ya- Yamo— No, it probably wasn’t that. Something different, something else. Luckily for you, these uniforms came with name tags.

“Mi— Jou-san?” Your eyes squint at the small tag, the bright blue contrasting against the navy of your uniforms, proof that you were all 1st years in junior high.

“Mhm!~ I didn’t expect anyone to be so close with those star students! Didya meet ‘em in elementary or something?”

‘Star students’. Classes were separated based on how well each individual did on the entrance exams. Divided in terms of academics, segregated based on performance.

Truly, this was the epitome of meritocracy, you think.

(But being 2 classes down from your friends does seem a little much, in your opinion.)

“Hello?~ Are ya there?” Her hand waves you back into focus, realization striking you when your eyes flicker from her name tag— To her brown eyes— Then to the whiteboard with the class schedule written down.

Your (still missing) textbook.

“You’re gonna go see them?” Her voice teeters on a tremor, a clear sparkle in her eyes and a vibration in her tone that you just can’t ignore.

“An opportunity to be nice doesn’t hurt anyone! Today, your lucky colour is blue to correct the amount of redness in today’s luck! Watch out for yourself, do good deeds and stay cautious!”

You suppose it doesn’t hurt if Suguru knows he has a fan.

——

It’s only the 5th day of the beginning of middle school life— And Gojo Satoru thinks he’s going to burst from irritation had it not been for the innocent look in your eye and the confused tilt of your head.

“Satoru? Are you okay?” A cold bar of pinkish-red ice cream appears in front of him, waving around and beckoning him to have a taste— As he just stares on with a frown.

“Maybe he’s constipated.” It’s uncommon for him to be this disinterested, this unhappy— Especially at the sight of sweet treats.

(And Geto Suguru already knows exactly what’s on his mind.)

“Do you not like the watermelon flavour after all?” You’re now despondent, shoulders slumping as you stare down at the ice cream you had gotten at the nearby convenience store after Satoru had slapped a ¥1000 bill in your hand, cheeks flushed red and claiming;

“Ya can get anything ya want.” He pushes his palm through his hair as he averts his gaze, shy, but so huffy and embarrassed as you smile at him in gratitude. “M’ sorry for not comin’ for so long.”

Gojo Satoru doesn’t mind. He shouldn’t have minded at all, really. You’re just trying out a new flavour of ice cream, right? Just trying to change it up a little and be more adventurous, aren’t you?

(Wrong. And he was pretty sure you’ve never even spared a glance at this brand of ice cream in your life, especially when he’s given you tons more of more expensive ones that you most definitely like better.)

And Gojo Satoru doesn’t mind that you’re suddenly interrogating him on ‘his type’. Doesn’t mind that you look at him with that cute curiosity in your eyes and a nod of your head as you— Don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re writing it all down in a notebook that was most definitely your ‘diary’.

(Trust him. He’s even straight up asked you to let him read it… Only for him to find logs about food, Saya-chan, anything you’ve been watching on TV recently—

And nothing juicy at all.)

“Do you think long or shorter hair is cuter, Suguru?”

The noiret’s eyes blink once before they flicker towards your own hair length, only staring for a few seconds before he was back to smiling.

“I think your length would be the most ideal.”

Hah. What a kiss-up.

(Not like he was any better.)

“Do you think twintails are cute, Satoru?” You poke at his cheek as he sits next to you, ads running on your old TV as you both await the continuation of the newest Pokemon episode.

“They’re ugly.” He huffs through a bite of chocolate, eyes turning towards you to offer you the bar as he sees your hands reach up to your own hair— And imitating said hairstyle.

“Really?” You turn to look at him with the proposed hairstyle, causing him to nearly choke as you close your eyes and think a little. “I always thought they were cute though.”

“T-They look fine, I guess.” But only on you.

“What’re ya even gathering all this useless info for anyway?” The watermelon popsicle is already in his mouth, red staining his tongue and teeth as he bites down on the cold treat— The artificial sweetness mixing strangely with the poison on his tongue. “Ya don’t think we like you enough?”

He doesn’t like this at all. Not one bit.

“No,” You begin once more as you hum, your ice cream sandwich half-eaten as you offer a bite to Suguru. “I’m learning trends.”

…what?

“Mhm.” You nod— Innocently.. “You know Mijou? The one you both met a few days ago?” The annoying one who couldn’t stop gawking, yeah, Satoru’s pretty sure he knows her, given how taken she was by him.

(“Shoko doesn’t like her.”

“That’s cause Shoko doesn’t really care about most people.”)

He remembers the way she tried to cut into every conversation, every word from you getting lapped up like a camel to water, remembers the way her smile was too tight, too forced— As if she desperately wanted to jam a puzzle piece into somewhere it just didn’t belong.

(He should be alarmed, should be annoyed. The energy this girl was radiating was sinister, was unfortunate. Yet, he knows she doesn’t even possess enough cursed energy to see cursed spirits.)

“She wants to know more about you guys too.” A nod to your testament as you lick up escaping drops of melting ice cream.

(It never hurt to know just a little more about someone.)

“I’m sure she’s nice, but,” Suguru cuts in, thankfully— With his tone of bluntness and so straight to the point. “I’d prefer knowing I’m hanging out with you and not someone else.”

(Did you really have to look surprised? They both knew you like the backs of their hands.)

“Oh.” Your eyes look to the ice creams and back to purple eyes. “Sorry, I just… Thought that you might like her a little more if you both knew some of her favourite things…”

(He’s pretty sure you’ve learned that from that talkshow you listen to every damn morning.)

“What’s got ya so interested in her till this point, anyway? Ya plannin’ to make friends with her or something?”

“…no, I don’t break my promises, Satoru.” No matter how childish and long ago they were. Yet, you blink at them as if something was wrong, as if you were distraught and confused. As if you don’t really get why they don’t understand yet.

“But cursed energy… Is made of negative emotions, right? And if they accumulate enough overtime, it can cause a cursed spirit to be born.”

“Yea. Y’er point?” Gojo Satoru is getting tired of this, and his mind begs, pleads with him to just tell you to stop trying to make them like friends such a desperate weirdo.

“(name).” Suguru cuts you off, realization peaking in his eyes as his mind catches on far too quickly for Gojo’s liking— He never fares well when it came to thinking about others, after all. “You’re not saying that you think—“

“She’s… Lonely.” There’s something flaring up in your eyes alongside your innate strength, a glow of power that Satoru’s never really seen before. “She says her parents are never really home and that she’s happy she gets the house to herself in the afternoons.”

“I-It just looks like it’s just been stewing for a really long time, since she says she gets reoccurring nightmares and night terrors. She doesn’t have enough cursed energy to see it, but—“ You take a breath in as you continue to ramble. “I could be wrong and it could just be something else… But I just have a feeling that she needs help…”

“That’s what being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is, isn’t it?”

previous masterlist next

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

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gh0st-author · 7 months ago

Text

dress.

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader summary: Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out.

tags: fluff, very suggestive (nothing explicit but it is heated)

warnings: as i said it is very suggestive, they also unalive a nobleman

A/N: so this wasn't originally meant to be posted, it was just something in my drafts, but since it happened to be William's birthday today i thought i might as well finish it. so happy birthday Liam here's your cake

Another glance in his direction, across the crowded hall. Another hidden smile from him. You knew you shouldn't; this game you were playing was too perilous, too dangerous. You weren't supposed to goad William like this. But you simply couldn't resist. Usually, you or Albert were the ones who found themselves at these events, because as the oldest brother he had too keep up the appearances most often, but this night was different. Tonight, William was present as well. He was right beside his brother, a picture-perfect gentleman, charming and captivating. It was an incredibly rare occurrence as he preferred to work behind the scenes, not really drawing attention to himself more than necessary. And unlucky for you, all your attention happened to be on him tonight, despite the risk of it endangering the mission. But it was too addicting. The music too sensual. The candlelight too dim. The perfumes too intoxicating. And the game you presented him with too enjoyable. Another taste of your wine. Another brush of his gaze. You needed to make sure that no one was the wiser to the desperation building beneath your skin. You were dancing around an open flame, stretching out your body above it, hoping to not get incarcerated by the proximity. Still, you couldn't be blamed, it was so rare for you to see your lover adorned so dashingly.

It was all subtle. Your glass against your lips. Your tongue lightly catching the droplets soaking them. His intense glance catching the act. And it was fun, so incredibly amusing to for once toy with him like this given the chance, to slowly gnaw away at his immaculate control that he prided himself on so and wore like a mask. You still remembered the words you whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom earlier today, the memory of them flashing through your mind making your lips stretch into a devious grin. This is a secret, but my gown for tonight... it was bought specifically with you in mind. Much more than wearing it, I am anticipating what you will do with it later tonight after we return. You could still feel the tremble that raced down William's spine, could still hear his low, tortured groan and uneven whisper of: Do not tempt me, darling. Being aware of the effect you had on your lover and feeling the desire simmering between you too was heady, to say the least.

Alas, no matter how much you wanted to give into your desires, you were a performer, both for him and for the Lord you were tasked with distracting tonight. And a performer had to play her role outstandingly. Your secret moments and glances would have to stay just that— secret. For no one could know you were affiliated with him. You were just another face in the crowd, an unassuming bejeweled rose without thorns. These glimmering banquets were your battlefield, your wit and your charm your weapons, which you brandished flawlessly with every new job you were assigned by the brothers. Meeting William and working with him only served to hone them more— a simple touch here, a sweet whisper there, and your targets were putty under your fingers, ready to follow you wherever you wished. Which usually happened to be their untimely but deserved demise at the hands of you or one of the others from the group. And for as long as they and William had any use of you, you would continue to play your part in their plans without a fault.

Deciding against continuing this game between you two for now, you downed your glass and set out to find your target— Lord Brownlow. He was a local aristocrat rumored to kidnap young ladies from such events and traffic them on the black market. In other words, a perfect target to be bewitched and disposed of by you. After a quick search, you found him, surrounded by numerous important individuals. Even from where you were standing you could see his false smiles and his calculating glances to the women around him. Your act already in place, you sauntered over to him, gown swaying with your movements, your practiced smile of awe and admiration plastered on your face. "Lord Brownlow, a pleasure to meet you."

You were a novelty, a new interesting toy for him to play with. The conversation flowed from your lips effortlessly, each word a careful trap meant to ensnare the Lord's attention, to keep him guessing and wanting more. Each move a thought-out maneuver to entice him and cloud his judgment. You listened to his stories attentively, smiled and nodded when expected, and stroked his ego when he so wished. And what an ego he had. He was so filled to the brim with his own self-importance that he steered you around forcing you into a conversation with any noble he could, no doubt to brag about his own status and to show off how well off he was. Still, you participated beautifully, never letting your true nature show.

After who knows what number of nobles, he turned to you, still keen on continuing. "Do you mind if I introduce you to another one of my acquaintances?

You smiled at him mindlessly, feigned admiration painted across your features. As if you were truly interested in anything he had to say, hanging onto his every word. "None at all, Lord Brownlow. Please, lead the way."

Pleased with your apparent high regard for him and your respect, he hurriedly led you through the throngs of people, seeking out the aforementioned noble. Your gaze darted around, attempting to pinpoint the person in question. Only when his gait hastened with renewed purpose, having found who he was searching for, did you manage to catch a glimpse of the man that had caught his eye.

And...

Oh, well, who would've thought? It seemed that tonight was indeed your lucky night, for he was leading you straight to the object of your obsession tonight. You briefly considered the possibility of William having arranged this beforehand, but the look of delighted surprise on his face as you and the Lord neared him convinced you otherwise. So, a lucky coincidence it seemed. Or a fate-given opportunity? No, of course not. Even though it might not have been planned for him and the Lord to converse like this, it was far from a coincidence. You knew William and him were acquainted, but by the genuine eagerness with which Lord Brownlow was leading you to him, it seemed as if William took the phrase 'keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer' quite literally. Always aligning and governing his pawns, that cunning mind of his.

The Lord halted right in front of him, proudly puffing out his chest. No doubt, hoping to impress you with his arsenal of connections— with his importance. "This is Lord William Moriarty. Second son of the deceased Earl Moriarty. We met a short while ago and happened to become quite familiar with each other."

William turned to regard you fully, his scarlet gaze bright but betraying nothing. As you stood before him like this, you felt weirdly exposed, despite the opulent gown— or maybe exactly because of it. You arrived separately so as to not raise any suspicion so he didn't have the chance to admire you from up close. His face was a perfect polite mask, but you knew he was drinking up your visage like a man starved. Everywhere his gaze touched burned so pleasurably you never wished for it to stop. In fact, all of this silence and patience, waiting and pining in anticipation, made you more eager— made you crave more. You wanted him to trace wherever he looked with his hands, his lips. Your own hands were shaking from holding back from touching him.

Acting like the perfect pawn you were, you buried your need deep beneath your vast experience in lying and deceit, using it as a cover to dampen the inferno in you, and held out your hand courteously for him to kiss. Not a trace of a woman currently longing, yearning, craving. "I don't believe we have been acquainted, Lord Moriarty."

Never taking his eyes off yours, he raised your hand to his lips, leaving it there much longer than necessary. The kiss was almost a promise— or a threat. You weren't sure which. "Indeed we are not, I would have remembered a woman as stunning as you are."

You fought your instinctive pull to draw closer to him, to see just how close you could slot your body against his. To get lost in his knowing gaze. Instead, you chose to slowly pull your hand away and giggle behind it. "Oh, you flatter me, my Lord. I am sure someone of your caliber has ample choice of ladies aiming for your attention."

The smile he gave you was pure serpentine curling of the lips, the look in his eyes pure hunter regarding his prey. "I assure you, my attentions lay elsewhere."

My attention is only on you, his look seemed to say. Your heart stuttered in your chest, beating so loud you were afraid he and Lord Brownlow could hear it. So careful. They had to be so incredibly careful. They were threading a fine line, one misstep and it could all come crashing down around them.

"His attention is only always focused on his work, he never entertains the women around him." Lord Brownlow sighed, seemingly unaware of the building tension between you and William. A perfect figure of an older gentleman concerned for the youth, as if he was giving sound advice out of genuine benevolence. "Honestly, Lord Moriarty, you should follow your older brother's example. Now, Lord Albert knows how to entertain a lady. It's not a good idea for a noble gentleman such as yourself to always keep his head in the books."

William diverted his attention from you to the Lord, chuckling gently as if this entire meeting was just a pleasant interaction. A born noble navigating the labyrinth of high society magnificently. The irony was not lost on you. "I will keep your words in mind, Lord Brownlow."

It was getting harder and harder to keep focused with him so close, yet thoroughly out of reach. It was due time for you to leave and initiate the next phase of the plan. Deciding that one last stunt was in order, you grabbed your target's hand, feigning interest in him, but you were only looking at the man in front of you. "Lord Brownlow, I am sure Lord Moriarty knows how to entertain himself. What do you say we make our way to the dance floor." You ran your hand down the front of your dress as if showing it off, but in truth, you drew attention to the way the corset hugged your curves. "After all, I just bought this dress today, it would be a shame for me to wear it and not be seen dancing in it."

It was a momentary weakness, a flash of that fire in his eyes gone instantaneously, almost as fast as it appeared. Oh, he looked so composed yet his self-control was frying at the edges, unraveling thread by thread with each passing moment. He, too, played his role of a respectable noble magnificently, only the slight sharpening of his gaze and an almost imperceptible sly curling of his lips betraying his rapidly waning restraint.

You offered him your most innocent smile. "Please excuse us, Lord Moriarty." Your words were the sweetest nectar, a saccharine phrase dipped in venom. Another one of your baits successfully eaten, another one of your hooks digging into flesh. You suppressed your giggle as you gave a parting bow and pivoted to twine through the dense crowd with Lord Brownlow, embracing him and slotting yourself into a waltzing position. Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out. Once again, this game you were playing was dangerous, but you were addicted to the thrill, and you suspected he was as well if the looks he was throwing your way as you glided around the room were any indication.

You felt his eyes on you even as you danced, gossamer and silk flowing around you in mesmerizing patterns. Even as you coyly slipped the slow-acting poison in the Lord's drink while no one was looking. Even as you silently snuck out of the room, vanishing as a phantom, before it took effect. You wouldn't be present when it all happened. A ghost, a shadow, leaving no trace behind. Exactly as William wanted.

Only when you finally arrived at their manor, obscured by the inky darkness of the night, did you let yourself breathe. The still air of your and William's bedroom greeted you pleasantly and you slowly made your way in, haphazardly discarding your numerous jewellery on the desk nearby along the way. Your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from a successful mission, but even more than that it was brimming with something deeper— more desperate. William and Albert would soon return to the estate now that the ball had been interrupted, and the fire that you had been suppressing the entire night threatened to burst out. You had no doubts he felt the same. The fun dance you two have been trapped in the entire night has finally reached its conclusion. The most delightful reward or the most delicious punishment— you wonder which one awaited you upon his arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, slow footsteps sounded in the hallway, unmistakably making their destination known, and the door creaked open almost soundlessly. Your spine tingled as he entered the room, yet you didn't spare him a glance, pretending to busy yourself with removing the accessories from your hair. "I assume everything went according to plan?"

His answering chuckle was accompanied by the rustle of clothes as he discarded his suit jacket. "Everything unfolded beautifully. No one seems to understand how the poison ended up in poor Lord Brownlow's drink." He threw you a conspiratorial grin. "After all, they were all too preoccupied later by the documents a servant managed to uncover in his room, detailing all his atrocities."

You nodded. The tension in the room was palpable, but neither of you wanted to interrupt this tentative stalemate you found yourself in. You were both content to wait the other out— another quick round of your game, this one much shorter and much less torturous. Only when the last accessory left your hair, the mass of it unraveling down your back, did you glance in his direction. "I seem to require some assistance with my dress"

With one hand you threw your hair over your shoulder, body trembling with anticipation as he leisurely made his way to you. It was almost agonizing really, the unhurried way in which his hands traced your arms and shoulder blades down to the corset, leaving in their wake a sea of goosebumps. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck. "You looked ravishing tonight. I didn't have the opportunity to tell you sooner." His fingers made quick work of the lace and countless hidden clasps and buttons of your corset. "That was quite an ordeal you pulled."

You laughed, a little breathless. "Don't speak as if you didn't enjoy it."

William's lips pulled into a grin, lightly nipping your skin. "You wicked thing, I'm inclined to believe you enjoy tormenting me."

You gasped, leaning back closer to him. "Is it truly torment if I give you exactly what I promised?"

"After the torture you put me through I think I deserve at least some recompense for your actions." As you felt the dress slip from your shoulders, silky fabric sliding down and pooling around your feet, his lips caressed the skin of your shoulder. "And I must say the reward for my patience will be worthwhile indeed."

Delightful reward it was for tonight it seemed.

#moriarty the patriot #mtp william #mtp x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #william moriarty #yuumori #ynm #william james moriarty x reader #mtp

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restlessmaknae · 14 days ago

Text

i'll be the sun // taesan

The last person Taesan - the leader of the school band - expected to bond over music with was you, the head of the Maths club.

➳ Characters: high school senior!Taesan x high school senior!female reader/you

➳ Genre: high school au, rich kids au, slow burn, coming of age, fluff, some real-life bittersweet parts

➳ Words: 8.1k

➳ Warning: mentions of parental pressure, insecurities, reader had a fall-out with her ex best friend, crying

➳ A/N: This story had the most votes in my recent poll, so here it is! I had a lot of fun writing it because music, Taesan and slow burn stories are a good combo.

This is also a spin-off to my Leehan story, but you don't have to read that one to understand Taesan's part

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

VOTE HERE IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN A TAESAN POV CHAPTER!

You couldn't say that you were looking forward to senior year to start. Moreso, you were looking forward to it to end.

After all, if it was over, you would be over your exams, and if the exams were over, you would be closer to your dream university. Until then, all the assignments seemed daunting, all the extracurricular activities seemed bothersome, and all the tests seemed life-changing. The last thing you expected was to fall in love along the way, but alas, life had a funny way to change your plans.

It all started on a Tuesday. At least, for you, it did.

Since you were the head of the Maths club, you left school later on Tuesdays because that's when you had your weekly club activity. After wrapping things up, you usually stayed behind to print out some more materials for next week and to organise the ones you collected. You also cleaned out the classroom you booked since the cleaning lady usually cleaned the basement during your time slot, not after.

So it was well past 7PM when you made your way back to the homeroom to pick up your PE bag because you didn't want to drag it with you all the way to the basement. You had some books left on your desk either way.

You stepped inside the classroom mindlessly, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you caught sight of someone already there. Taesan was leaning against his seat in the last row, playing on his guitar and bobbing his head to a song with his earphones in. He turned towards the windows with half of his body, so he didn't see you coming in. You noticed that he also closed his eyes while he was playing.

You weren't afraid of Taesan's reaction as per se, but he seemed like he was in his own bubble, and you didn't want to burst it. Alas, you had to get your bag and books, so you tiptoed into the classroom, hoping that the boy wouldn’t hear you moving.

You scooped up your books and threw the sports bag over your shoulder, and not until you turned around, did you realise that you knew the song Taesan was playing. You knew it all too well, and the momentary realisation made you halt just in time for Taesan to open his eyes and take in your presence. He removed his earphones and gazed at you - a bit tentative, but mostly curious.

For a moment, you had no idea how to react. The boy was as unbothered as you were, but there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air, not because it was embarrassing to be in the classroom with someone you didn’t usually talk with, but because you two were very different students on the verge of adulthood, and it was awkward to get caught up in a situation like this.

Not to mention that it felt a bit like déjavu, the flashback from the summer class trip pulling you back to reality.

“It was ‘I Don’t Love You’, right?” You found yourself asking, holding onto the straps of your sports bag to hold onto anything, except the memory from that night during the class trip.

Something flashed in Taesan’s eyes, and you knew immediately that you were right, though there was no reason to deny it. Even though Taesan was the leader of the school band, thus he knew quite a lot about the technical parts of making music, you had never heard him make a comment on anyone’s music taste. What he thought internally was a different question.

“Do you listen to MCR?” He quirked an eyebrow, and still, there was no malice in his voice. If anything, his interest was piqued.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Cool. Me too,” he bobbed his head casually, and you were about to say that you had a feeling that he did since he was playing the band’s song when the cleaning lady marched into the classroom, and made her presence very much known with her high-pitched exclamation:

“What are you doing here at this hour, kids? Go home!”

You heard Taesan scoff behind you, but you didn’t object. You both packed up your stuff and headed out of the classroom, the now empty corridor filled with the cacophony of your footsteps. As far as you could remember, you had never walked side by side with Taesan like this. You had very different interests, he had his own friend group and well… you didn’t, so your interactions were limited to strictly school-related things like group projects, helping out the boy with a Maths task, and being sat beside each other on a class trip.

Yet, it seemed that you now had something to talk about, and Taesan took advantage of that.

“What’s your favourite MCR song?”

You didn’t even have to think twice about the answer.

“ ‘Teenagers’. You might find it funny, but whenever I step foot into the school, this song comes to mind,” you shared with him as you craned your head to look up at him, just in time to catch an amused smile playing along his lips. You had a feeling you didn’t need to tell him why, all those teenagers at school really did scare you sometimes. “What about you?”

“My favourite one is ‘I Don’t Love You’, but since you recognised it, you must know it already,” he answered a bit shyly, scratching the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed.

It was a new sight for you since Taesan was usually straightforward and confident, someone who seemed to be totally at ease with himself. You sometimes envied the way he carried himself; so coolly as if nothing could bother him, and as if he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. When you looked into the mirror, all you could see was anxiety and question marks floating around your head, and even though you thought you would gain some confidence from being a straight-A student, it did just the opposite. It fuelled your insecurities even more.

You directed a half-smile at the boy, not sure what to do with his reaction, and kept walking towards the entrance on the ground floor. Taesan inquired what kind of artists you listened to other than MCR, and he seemed so excited to talk about his favourite ones that he barely realised that he was waiting with you at the wrong bus stop. You knew that he usually went home with the bus departing from the stop opposite yours because having no friends anymore meant that you were observant like that.

“Oh sorry, I have to go,” he excused himself when you pointed out that his bus was coming. “See you tomorrow!” He bid his farewell while already running towards the vehicle, his guitar case rhythmically hitting his side and his school bag sliding down his right shoulder.

You watched him leave and take a seat on the bus while panting, his hair dishevelled, his tie loose around his neck. He was so different from you who knew the whole bus timetable by heart, never ever even ran after a bus, and always kept herself in check. However, as he caught you staring and gave you a little wave of his hand, you realised that deep down, you wished to be more like him.

And what was sad about it was that you knew that the only one holding you back from being more like him was actually you.

With the third week of the new term starting came the announcement of the random draw for the annual sports’ day. KOZ International High’s sports’ day was your school’s version of ISAC, and even though you were all coming from influential families and all the students had probably enough money to attend the Olympics games in the VIP section, no one complained about the event. In fact, it was all the school magazine and school radio could talk about for almost two months, and everyone tried to put effort into practising for their own games to not lose face.

Each year, all the classes participated in four different categories - mixed 4 x 100 m relay, archery, swimming and dance -, going up against one another within each year. The only category that allowed students to sign up for was dance as only groups could participate, and they needed to be formed in time to seem somewhat professional. Each year, this was the competition everyone was looking forward to the most since usually professional dancers signed up - like Baekseung, Minwoo and Haruto who always won the dance category in your year.

For all the other categories, there was a random draw during homeroom where your teacher announced who should be participating in which category. For freshman and sophomore year, you had been selected for swimming, last year for archery, and this year, you were asked to do the mixed relay with Millie, Pierre and Taesan. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Pierre hadn’t insisted on making a groupchat for you all and having practice sessions each week to prepare for the sports day at the end of October.

“We can practise in our own free time. I don’t understand why we should all be gathering in one place each week,” you pointed out matter-of-factly when you had your first “team meeting” on the day of the draw.

“Because it’s about team spirit, you know? You might feel more motivated to run your part if you can see others cheering you on,” Pierre pointed out with unnecessarily grand hand gestures, and you needed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. However, you caught Taesan watching him with an unamused stare, and the sight made you feel less edgy.

“Besides, we need to practise giving each other the baton. I’ve heard that it can make or break a team’s performance,” Millie chirped in, looking up from her phone on which she was typing up until this moment.

This was exactly the reason you had enjoyed doing archery and swimming for the past 3 years. You had been alone with no team to weigh you down or ask you for unnecessary team meetings. You had practised in your own time at your own pace, problem solved. However, the first obstacle came already when you realised that there was not a single day during the week when you could all be free after classes.

“Can’t you just change the time for your band or club activity?” Pierre asked Taesan and you because you two had your extracurriculars on the same day, the only day when Millie and Pierre would be available.

“No.”

“No way,” you said at the exact same time as Taesan did, and you exchanged a glance, knowing all too well what those Tuesday after-school hours meant to both of you.

“Well, can’t you schedule your family dinner for the weekend, Millie?” Pierre tried again, and the deadly glare she got from the British girl was more than enough to shut him up. Even though none of you had a scheduled weekly family dinner, you knew how it was with rich families: studies and family came first, anything else second.

You brought your notebook closer to your face to examine your notes, and tried to calculate which day could work for everyone. Apparently, none did, so you came up with a different idea:

“Why don’t we practise in pairs? Since you and Millie are free on Tuesday afternoons, you can practise then. Taesan and I are free on Thursday afternoons, we can do it then.”

“But then it won’t be the saaaaame,” Millie pouted as if she had been told something awful, to which Taesan said dryly:

“That’s the only option.”

That managed to convince the two of them, and after a few more minutes of painfully cringe team spirit quotes, you could go on your own way. You immediately bolted off, having had enough of this nonsense, but Taesan fell in step with you, and asked if Thursday was really okay with you.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just don’t want to sacrifice too much time for this, so maybe 30 minutes will do?”

“I was just about to suggest that,” Taesan nodded, a lopsided smile invading his lips, and it felt so easy, so light to talk to him that it actually surprised you. For a second too long, you watched that smile bloom on his lips, and for the first time in four years, you took in the boy’s pitch-black locks that sat messily on top of his head, his equally dark almond-shaped eyes, the defined features of his that were becoming more prominent by the day the closer he got to adulthood, and there was his lanky built, too…

Taesan caught you staring, and you immediately averted your eyes to the mess of the corridor around you instead of the boy’s face because for the first time, it felt scary to feel so light beside someone.

Pierre was very much not the leader type, but he could complain and spam the group chat with gifs of idols running (and failing sometimes). You didn't know what he was doing with all those hagwon classes he claimed to have which made your 4-member practices not work out because you all had hagwon after school, but he was chronically online. You noticed that from the class group chat either way, but it was different when there were only four of you this time and one of them was Taesan, the other one you - the two students who rather focused on their own duties, not this particular group chat.

It was all what students talked about though. Haruto chirped everyone's ears off about their (supposedly jaw-dropping) choreography, Leehan couldn't stop pouting that he and the class president didn't get selected for running, so that they could be in the same team - since they had officially started dating after the summer trip -, and the usual banter between classes started about who would win. This year, Anton - the national swimming champion - didn't get selected for swimming unlike last year, so even that would be an unpredictable competition for the boys.

Honestly, you weren't one for running, but it was something that you could enjoy at times because it helped you concentrate on something other than school. Other times, running around the field wasn't enough to take your mind off the deliberating amount of school work. Especially not when your ex best-friend, Selina, showed up on the field to practise the choreography she and two other girls had come up with for the dance competition.

It was like she was a completely new person - wearing a noticeable amount of make-up instead of her usual no make-up make-up, trying out dancing that she had never dared before and hanging out with girls she had claimed to not particularly like -, and it hurt to see that. Not because you felt envious because of the 180-turn of hers, but because she had said on that one night during the summer trip that she was sick of feeling like second place beside you.

Just because you usually performed better than she did, you had never ever looked at her like a competition, like a charity case. What's more, you enjoyed studying together with her because you were around the same level. Even though your mother cared about your 2nd place at school (after the class president who was always 1st), you had never cared about Selina's 3rd or 4th place.

Clearly, she felt differently.

"Is everything okay?" Taesan's raspy yet gentle voice brought you back to reality, and you immediately turned your head towards him.

"Yeah. Everything's fine," you answered, though you could feel how uncertain the words sounded. How feeble you sounded. "I just... I think it's enough for me for today," you announced, looking down at your wristwatch that indicated that you had started running only 10 minutes ago. You were nowhere near the end of your usual 30-minute session.

"That's fine. I don't really feel like doing it anymore today," the boy shrugged nonchalantly, and you wondered if it was true, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. Either way, you felt grateful for his cool attitude, and went to the changing room without as much as looking back at Selina and the two other girls.

After you got changed and grabbed your stuff, you still found yourself walking towards the windows that were overlooking the school field. Selina did seem a bit awkward, her limbs not catching up with the rhythm, but you couldn't tell whether she actually enjoyed it or not, and that was what gawked at you. The fact that it had been mere months, and you already couldn't tell how she was feeling. Were you always this bad at recognising her feelings? Was this why you had never noticed her feeling like she was someone less worthy than you? Was she right? Had you really made everyone feel insignificant around you?

Something broke in you at the thought, and you found yourself breathless for a moment, holding onto the windowsill for support. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you were too preoccupied with the tightness of your chest to care. You tried so hard to hold it back, to hold your feelings back ever since the term started that you believed that you could do it without breaking down.

Turns out you were wrong.

"Hey, Y/N! What's wrong?"

Even though Taesan was only a few steps away, his voice felt like it was coming from many miles away. You didn’t look up at him, you didn’t dare to because you didn’t want him to see your tears. Have you ever achieved anything by crying? No. Just more humiliation and more disapproving words from your parents.

“Gosh, this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, hoping that Taesan would just leave. On the other hand, Taesan didn’t budge for a few seconds, but then, he gently directed you to the closest room and closed the door behind you two.

Suddenly, you were surrounded by the smell of leather and there was this unmistakable smell of a storage room coming from all the different types of sports equipment you used for PE classes. You had rarely been here before since it was usually the class-president and vice-president who had the duty to collect the equipment for class, but it was quiet, and there were no curious eyes around, just Taesan’s concerned ones.

You were waiting - no, anticipating would be a better word - for the boy to speak up, to tell you to stop crying, but he stood there, looking up from under his long eyelashes, orbs shining worriedly. He then reached into the pocket of his bag and reached out a few crumpled yet clean tissues.

His gesture just made everything hurt tenfold.

“Why aren’t you telling me that it’s indeed embarrassing, and to stop crying?” You inquired, confused, eyeing the tissues in his hands. The boy looked taken aback by your question at first, eyes furrowed, creases deeping on his forehead, before his features smoothened out, softened to a gentle degree.

“I can’t tell you how you should feel. If that’s how you feel, I don’t have the right to go against it, but personally I don’t feel embarrassed by the sight of you crying,” he confessed so genuinely, so honestly that you teared up immediately. It was like something awakened inside of you, a part of you that you had hidden so deep that now that it surfaced, it felt unfamiliar and wrong.

You reached for the tissues to dry your eyes, but the tears just kept falling, and somewhere along the way, accompanied by your pained sobs, you found yourself telling Taesan the story behind your argument with Selina. He had been there at the peak of it anyway - just trying to tell you and your ex-best friend that you could come down for the bonfire, but Selina hadn’t heard him behind her and kept on going. She had told you that you had been a terrible friend for not feeling sorry for her when she had always been a worse student than you, and that you didn’t see that you made everyone feel insignificant beside you, that’s why you had only her.

It had started so innocently, not even an argument, just talking about your senior year, but it spiralled down way too quickly, you had just stood there, listening to the girl you had called your best friend for 3 years tell you everything as if you had forced her to bottle things up. Back then, you had been too shocked to react in any way other than numbing your feelings, but now it all burst out. It was ugly, it was messy, but it was also very human, and Taesan didn’t say a derogatory word, he hummed at times to indicate that he was listening, but let you speak freely.

Which was odd, and at first, you didn’t even know what to do with it. Usually, your parents stopped you when you started complaining, and said that you shouldn’t overreact things. However, he didn’t interrupt you even when you were searching for words or blowing out your nose between sobs. He also kept giving you tissues, though he ran out of them after a while, and tucked his hands into the back pocket of his jeans to cover up his awkwardness.

By that time, you were feeling better but also worse. You were lighter than minutes ago, but you were also very, very tired. Maybe holding everything back was actually more exhausting than letting everything out in time.

“Thank you.”

You let the words hang between you two, let Taesan ruminate over it, but he just nodded as if it was nothing, and said with all the confidence in the world:

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t tell if it was intentional or accidental, but after a while, you and Taesan started walking towards the bus stop together on Tuesdays after both of you wrapped up your extracurricular activities. You talked about school to a certain extent, but more often than not, you exchanged song recommendations, sharing not just your favourite ones, but explaining which part was your favourite and why. Taesan was obviously more eloquent when it came to music, but he was always interested to hear your opinion, and didn’t put you down even if the best you could mutter sometimes was that the song made you feel something, though you couldn’t tell what.

You also had your relay practices on Thursday afternoons, and after the first two relatively quiet sessions, you developed the habit of cheering for the other when you measured your time, to see how much you improved. Pierre and Millie did the same, sharing their records with you in the groupchat, so that you could decide in which order you would be running at the event. It was going well, and even though it was exhausting to do this on top of schoolwork, at least you were with Taesan, not Pierre. Sharing silence with Taesan didn’t feel awkward, but you were sure that it would have felt horrible with Pierre.

September passed some lingering sunshine onto October, but as the weather turned colder, you chose to run in the gym hall instead of outside on the sports field. That day, Anton and Jungwon were practising archery together while you were running, but you were the first two to leave with Taesan.

You had heard that it would rain that day, so you had packed an umbrella with you, and how smart of you! You noted that it was indeed pouring inside while walking from the changing room to the entrance of the school. Your steps echoed the way the raindrops were hitting the ground on the other side of the big windows, a constant, never-ending melody. Drip drop, drip drop, step by step, step by step…

You halted only when you pushed the front door open, and found Taesan leaning onto a pillar, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. The tip of his Converse shoes was not fully covered by the roof he was standing under, thus, it got dotted with raindrops. He didn’t seem to notice. He did notice you though, and snapped his head back when he heard you take a few steps towards him.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You inquired casually. Not many of you commuted by public transport because most students lived in the student halls on campus. As it was an international high school, and the school attracted talent from all over the world, there were always enough rooms to accommodate every single student if they wished to make use of them. However, since you were from Seoul, and your parents liked to keep an eye on you during term time, you commuted, but it wasn’t bad, only a 25-minute bus ride.

On the other hand, you had always seen Taesan take the bus, so you wondered if it was different this time. Or maybe he was just trying to wait out the rain.

“Ah no,” he shook his head. “I just stopped to check my messages,” he held up the phone in his hand, and you nodded. He scratched the back of his neck, looking up at you with those big, affectionate eyes, and some icy part of your heart melted, drops of water accumulating around it like the puddles on the ground.

“Do you want to walk together? I have an umbrella,” you offered as you pointed at the big black umbrella in your left hand. Taesan looked at it, then back at you, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly. From him though, that curve was equal to a grin.

So you opened your umbrella, holding it so that it would cover the boy who was taller than you, and it meant that you instinctively started leaning towards him. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, not when your shoulder bumped into his as you came to a halt at a crossroads. You exchanged a gaze, something that you broke almost immediately because you were sure that your face was flushed. You usually didn’t have a problem with closeness like this, but with him, it was different. It was somewhat more intimate.

“Your shoulder is getting wet,” he pointed out when he averted his eyes to your left shoulder, and caught sight of the raindrops sitting on your autumnal coat.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Let me…” He mumbled as he reached for the handle, and you let him hold the umbrella over you two instead. He was taller either way, you decided, but then you saw that it was his shoulder that got rained on because he was holding it over you way more than he did it over himself.

“Gosh, you aren’t any better,” you huffed, not letting it slide. You grabbed the handle of the umbrella, but Taesan didn’t let go, so you just stood there, staring at each other in beautiful agony, your hands touching. Your heart fluttering, heat reaching your cheeks, you yanked your hand away, but stepped closer to the boy instead. “See, we can fit under it if we stand close enough to each other.”

“Is it close enough now?” He quirked an eyebrow, and there was a twitch in the corner of his mouth. You couldn’t decide whether there was a teasing edge to his words or a flirtatious one, and you weren’t sure which one would be better.

You gulped, looking away, and noticed the traffic lights turning green. Hence, you prompted the boy to start walking, so you could fall in step with him. He shook his head, and you swore there was an amused smile playing along his lips, but you were too focused on your own thumping heart to care.

You asked Taesan for a new song recommendation if he had any, and you shared one of your new favourite songs, too. It was ‘Beaches’ by beabadoobee, and for some reason, this song reminded you of the times you spent with the boy: light-hearted, reassuring, comforting. Like the first signs of spring - awakening, blooming, bringing warmth - after a long winter.

Of course, you didn’t tell him that, just that you liked the lyrics and the instrumentals used, but you were curious about his opinion. That’s what you did after all: sharing song recs, the other jotting it down in their notes app, listening to it and sharing their opinion on it either the next time you met in person or via Kakaotalk. This way, you always had something to look forward to in your days, and it was like a little safe haven from all the studying.

For the first time in forever, you didn’t even go through the timetable in your head to calculate when your bus would be coming, you only noticed it when it was already there.

“See you tomorrow,” Taesan said as he handed the umbrella back to you, and you found yourself smiling at his words. How reassuring it was to know that you would be meeting the next day as well.

“See you tomorrow,” you echoed with a lighter heart, watching while he was running to the other side of the road to hide from the rain under the bus stop’s shelter.

It was odd how your perception of Taesan could change in a matter of weeks. You felt a certain kind of fondness towards him now that you couldn't really put your hand on because you had never felt this way before, but you wanted only good things for him. You really wished he could become a musician one day because he truly deserved it. His band 'Insomnia' already uploaded covers onto Youtube, and had a fair share of views, and you liked to indulge yourself in their videos more often than you would admit. Even though all of them were very talented - Jungwon on the drums, Gyuvin on the synthesiser, Yechan and Taesan on the guitar -, your attention always gravitated towards Taesan and his voice. His voice was similar to his personality: multiple layered with many unexpected charms and softness hidden behind that edgy tone of his.

Though Taesan once inquired if you heard their songs and you admitted that you did, you thought that it wasn't that big of a deal. Most girls - and even guys - at school listened to them because they were fairly popular. Though Leehan was the most popular boy in your year, followed by Yechan with his jokester personality and ever-growing Youtube channel, the other members of the band also had their fair share of popularity. Then, there was Anton who was a national swimming champion, so naturally, everybody knew him, but he didn't really let his presence be known outside of the swimming pool, so it was a quiet kind of fame in his case.

Not that popularity really mattered in your eyes, but you found it somewhat heart fluttering that Taesan would be interested in your opinion regarding their band, and your conversations didn't stop even after the sports day when you came in second with your team. Only Pierre made a ruckus about it though, you and Taesan merely exchanged high-fives, and agreed that you were glad that it was over.

However, you didn't think that the boy would one day ask you if you wanted to hear a snippet of a song he was working on.

“Sure. If you don't mind,” you told him after a few seconds of silence while you were contemplating whether he was serious about asking for your opinion.

“It's not finished yet, I'm still trying to see what direction it should go in, but I'm curious what you think about it,” he explained as he brought his earphones out of his pocket, plugged it into his phone, tapped something on the screen and reached it out to you.

It was just you and him in the classroom as usual on Tuesdays, Taesan sitting in the seat behind yours. You turned around to face him, reluctantly grabbing his earphones and putting them into your ears. There was just something so intimate about this gesture of his: sharing his own song idea with you and sharing his own earphones with you that you needed to pacify your crazily beating heart to actually hear the song.

The snippet that you heard seemed to be the beginning of a love song, and the first thing that came to your mind was how cosy it was, and how easy it was to listen to it. It was something different from Insomnia’s usually punk-rock heavy songs, but the instrumentals were still there, just softer. Like how he had been acting around you despite his seemingly colder facade. The lyrics were about keeping ‘you’ in their memories, and promising to protect ‘you’ which sent a chill down your spine because for a moment, it felt like he was really singing to you.

Taesan kept his eyes on his phone's screen to see where the recording was at, so he immediately looked up when the song finished. He quirked an eyebrow in question while you took out the earphones.

“So…” He cleared his throat before continuing, albeit rather reluctantly. “How did you like it?”

“I liked it, I really did. It was softer than the songs you usually play, but I liked this side of you,” you remarked with a gentle smile, and something caught in his eyes which made you falter. If he was more shocked or just intrigued, you couldn't tell, but you... you were horrified. “I mean, this side of your music... uhmm... your music style.”

You were sure that you were blushing like crazy because how could that have just slipped out? Gosh, this was so embarrassing…

“But I would have made the beginning part a bit longer, so that it could stand out a bit more,” you added, hoping to save yourself from further embarrassment.

You averted your eyes to the desk instead of his face, so you couldn't tell how he reacted, but he jotted down your opinion nevertheless.

“Thanks. I was actually thinking of changing up that part, so thanks for reinforcing that idea.”

You dared to look up at him at this time, and there was this soft smile playing along his lips that made your stomach do somersaults. It was so rare to see him smile like that, and when you were the reason for it, all of your tenseness regarding your own actions melted away.

“Actually, I wanted to show you this song because…”

“Is it you two again?” Came the cleaning lady's indignant voice from the classroom door, and you both snapped your heads back to look at her. Hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed, the elderly woman didn't seem too happy to find you two in the classroom after 7 o’ clock yet again.

You had to suffer through a few more reprimanding sentences of hers while you were packing up your stuff to leave. Once outside of the school, you asked Taesan what he was trying to say before.

“Ah nevermind,” he shrugged, looking away, and you didn't push him to tell you.

So you continued your walk to the bus stop like always, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't just showed you a song that could make you question your own feelings towards him, and ultimately, his own feelings towards you.

On Tuesdays, it was usually you who finished sooner, and Taesan was already in the classroom by the time you made your way back there. Not this time though.

You managed to bump into the whole band when you walked out of the room you booked for the Maths club. Unbeknownst to you, you halted in front of the four boys, your eyes darting between Taesan and the rest of the guys.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Yechan cheered excitedly, grinning widely. You reciprocated his greeting and his smile, holding the notebook and the folder you used to your chest.

“Done with the Maths club for today?” Gyuvin inquired, and you immediately confirmed that you did, but then you realised that he didn’t necessarily have to know what you were doing there. After all, if it hadn’t been for Taesan, you wouldn’t have known that Insomnia was practising on Tuesdays at this time around.

“How do you know that?”

“Oh well,” the boy boasted a childish grin, gazing at Taesan from time to time to signal his answer to you, but the head of the school band appeared nonchalant. “Somebody did tell us about it.”

“Not even just once, but multiple times,” Jungwon chimed in, sharing the boys’ teasing, and you had to sniffle a giggle at Taesan’s reaction. The boy tried so hard to seem totally unaffected by the obvious callout, but he was avoiding your eyes, chewing on his lower lip, his hands flying to the back of his neck to scratch it. Something that he did when he was ever so scarcely embarrassed.

“I see,” you hummed knowingly, amused by the guys’ little display of playfulness before Yechan smacked his head.

“Oh guys, I think we need somewhere to be! You know, the thing I told you about before practice…” He announced out of the blue, and even though a flash of surprise crossed Gyuvin’s face, he recovered quickly, and both him and Jungwon acted like they knew exactly what he was talking about. Taesan, on the other hand, seemed awfully perplexed with his furrowed eyebrows and forehead creases.

“Now let’s go, let’s not waste any time. See you at school tomorrow, Taesan! And Y/N, of course,” Yechan hollered before exiting the scene, followed by the grinning Gyuvin and a smiling Jungwon who looked like he came straight out of a toothpaste commercial.

You watched them leave with a light-hearted smile, then looked at the boy in front of you who seemed awfully nervous. It was vastly different to who he really was - the usually cool and composed Han Taesan, the leader of Insomnia, someone who had never lost his patience before. Now, he seemed like a lost kitten who couldn’t find their way around an alley, and the thought made your lips curve upwards.

“Heading to the bus stop?” You asked matter-of-factly, hoping to ease the slight awkwardness in the air.

Taesan’s shoulders visibly dropped when he caught your gaze, and he was about to open his mouth, but closed it in the end. You quirked an eyebrow, suddenly confused by his gesture, but then he spoke up:

“Actually, do you remember that song of mine I showed you last time? Do you want to hear the final version? I finished it yesterday,” he suggested casually, but there was a hint of doubt lacing his words. On the other hand, you couldn’t have been more sure of an answer, so you nodded, and followed him into the practise room they usually occupied.

Even though the room already boasted many musical instruments, the boy got his guitar out of his case with as much elegance as only a well-practised artist could. After setting it up, so that he could play comfortably, he started playing the song from last time. He did work on making the beginning of the song longer, and there were parts that he changed a bit, but overall, it had the same cosy vibe. The lyrics were also extended, him singing that he wanted to be a hero, an angel or whatever you wanted to call someone you could lean on to ‘you’, and when the words left his mouth, a pleasant shiver ran down your spine.

You were totally caught up in your feelings - as if the melody wrapped you up, and you were just spinning inside the hurricane of his, going round and round with each passing second. There was nothing else around you, just him and the song. It felt a bit like you were in your own world, something that just the two of you had, that’s why the silence that followed the last accords felt so striking.

Taesan put his guitar to the side after he finished, and you found yourself clapping instinctively. You didn’t think too much into the gesture, but the boy was fighting a smile, and eventually failed. A beautiful, grateful smile blossomed in its wake.

“Before you ask, I liked it a lot. It felt light and comforting,” you admitted before asking about the inspiration behind the song because you were genuinely curious about it. He had mentioned before that a lot of his songs were inspired by books, movies and stories he heard from others, so you wondered if it was the same this time as well.

His eyes widened a bit hearing your question, and for a moment, you thought that you asked something intimate. Then, he sucked in a deep breath before confessing:

“It was inspired by you.”

“By me?” You repeated, exasperated.

“Yeah. I started working on it after I saw you crying that day,” he started, and even though his voice didn’t waver, you could feel that he wasn’t completely confident in his answer. “I don’t think I was the best at reassuring you back then, so I wrote this song because this is what I wanted to say then. I’m just not really good with words, you see,” he let out a little, somewhat ashamed giggle by the end, averting his eyes from your face to the strand of cotton he was currently picking on his pants.

You were speechless for a few seconds, digesting his words - or rather his confession. You were convinced that he had been the best kind of reassurance he could have been at the time, and you appreciated that he had listened to you, that he had told you that you could feel however you wanted, he wasn’t embarrassed by the sight of you crying, and then there had been his crumpled tissues, too.

The reason you didn’t mind spending time with him, rather, you felt comforted by his presence was because of that night: because he had seen you at such a low point, he had heard your sob story regarding Selina, and he hadn’t turned his back on you. Not out of pity because Taesan would be the last person who would do something like that out of pity, but because he truly wanted to get to know you better.

“I… I think you did enough back then. I was the one who felt ashamed because I thought I said too much, and I didn’t want to open up to someone in case…” In case they would leave you like Selina did. In case they felt insignificant, and called you a horrible person. In case they broke your heart just enough to make you never want to lend it to another person, ever again.

Taesan hummed, playing with his fingers resting in his lap before finding your eyes, and he gave you that soft smile that you were so grateful to see on him.

“You don’t have to worry about that. As I’ve said in the song, you can lean on me,” he reassured you gently, and everything ceased to exist in that moment, even time itself. It felt like your heart - that had not been thumping before - now beat for the very first time, awakening from its deep, deep sleep.

And you welcomed this warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest with open arms.

To be honest, you were scared of this newfound feeling at first. It was as if everything was so easy, so natural. Nothing ever felt forced with Taesan. Sometimes you had lunch together at the canteen, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes you stopped by each other’s desk in the morning to talk, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes he asked you to help him with a Maths problem, sometimes you talked about anything but school.

On top of that, you were scared of this feeling because of the timing as well. Senior year seemed like the worst possible time to fall in love. However, after a while, you couldn’t deny it. You tried, you really did try to push these feelings aside, and Taesan was gentle enough to not push you for an answer. Even though he hadn’t confessed as per se, you highly doubted that a song like his would be inspired by someone who was just a friend.

As time went by, Christmas break rolled around, and you didn’t see him for some time. Then, he didn’t show up at school the following week because he had come down with a cold or so you were told by Leehan. So the next time you saw him, you had every reason to be looking forward to seeing him, and it was just your luck that it was a Tuesday as well, so you were more than sure that you would leave the school together.

You were right, but as you were leaving the building, you stopped the boy, and reached a knitted wool scarf out to him, something that matched his dark winter coat. Taesan eyed it for a few seconds before you broke it down to him:

“It’s for you. I wouldn’t have to give you one if you just got yourself a scarf, especially after being sick last week,” you told him, and you realised that you were almost reprimanding him. How could you not though? He was still not wearing a scarf, and it was freezing cold now.

“It was just a cold,” he justified, but there was an amused smile in the corner of his lips. Mind you, this was not a usual behaviour from you, but last week, you had enough time to ponder about his whereabouts before asking Leehan. Because apparently, it was embarrassing to tell you through Kakaotalk that he was sick, so you had to ask his best friend.

“Still, I was worried when you didn’t show up on Monday.”

“Oh, so you were worried about me?” He raised an eyebrow, playfully leaning closer to you while grabbing the scarf. For a few seconds, you two just stared at each other, stared into each other’s eyes, and it was so easy to get lost in those deep, dark galaxies. Then, you willed yourself to tear your gaze away, and pushed the scarf into his hands once and for all, a bit more forcefully than you intended.

“This is not funny, Taesan. I just don’t want you to get sick again, okay? I couldn’t help but worry about you last week, and I’ve missed spending time with you, so if you don’t want to skip out on that, I suggest you take that scarf and dress warmly.”

“You missed spending time with me?” Taesan repeated, the playfulness slowly leaving his voice, his tone taking on a more serious and curious layer. He eyed you for a good second before asking: “Why?”

“Because I like you, why else?” You threw your hands into the air, exasperated, because you had enough of his teasing for the day, but when you realised what you had just said, your hands flew to your mouth.

You didn’t expect to tell him that so straightforwardly, let alone do this just in front of the school with the scarf you had gotten him still in his hand, but it just burst out, and there was no stopping it. Not that Taesan seemed to mind as his lips slowly curled upwards in a somewhat coy manner, and his reaction immediately made you feel relieved.

“That’s good… because I like you, too,” he confessed, and put the scarf around your neck to pull you close to him. You smiled into his embrace as his arms slowly enveloped you, and although it was winter, it felt like being embraced by the sun.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

Click here for my BND masterlist

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Also, some fun little details and researches because they heavily inspired the story:

Title taken from Taesan's self-composed song called 'sink into the memory' which is also the song that was inspired by reader in the story (when Taesan finishes the song in the story, the lyrics' interpretation is totally made up by me)

Here is Taesan singing MCR's 'I Don't Love You'

Here is Taesan talking about his top 3 MCR songs

Header taken from this WHY Concept Film

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x you #bnd x reader #bnd imagines #bnd scenarios #bnd x you #taesan x reader #taesan x you #taesan scenarios #taesan imagines #boynextdoor fluff #bnd fluff #taesan fluff #boynextdoor angst #bnd angst #taesan angst

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fantom-as · 8 months ago

Text

He's Psychotic | Feyd-Rautha

fandom: Dune: Part Two (2024)

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x irulan corrino

description: He’s psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. And she was about to marry him.

word count: 4k

warnings!: smut, wedding night, loss of virginity, rough sex, knifeplay 🔪, bloodplay🩸, where's my wife?, who did this to you?, concubines, blood and injury, praise kink, marriage.

He was psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. An animal, a beast, a sort of soulless creature no living woman could bear to stand.

And Irulan was about to marry him.

This wasn’t the plan, of course. She was supposed to marry Paul Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, but fate had different plans. Her fate took an unexpected turn the moment Paul’s lifeless body fell to the floor, with his enemy’s blade deep in his guts. In that moment, Feyd-Rotha’s black eyes bore into her and the smile of his was just as black.

Her father said, “You’ve won. What would you like in return for this victory?”

She shuddered, unable to take her eyes off the man before her as he walked back to Paul’s body, ripped out the blade from it and pointed the sharp tip towards her, the blood still dripping from it—drip, drip, drip.

“Had the Duke won, he would’ve gotten the princess. Now, as the victor, I have the right to her. I want your daughter.”

Her father didn’t oppose. Perhaps he wanted to but had nothing else to offer. Alas, Irulan was the thing he could give, in his mind, he had already given her up to Paul Atreides.

And so, three days later, she was dressed in traditional bridal garments: the ivory dress of the finest silk, a modest scoop neckline adorned with beading, with long fitted sleeves cascading down her arms with sheer panels, the skirt flowing out from the waist in a graceful line. To finish off, she wore a dramatic veil that framed her entire form and was held up by an ornate headpiece.

She was to be sacrificed to a demon.

Irulan walked down the isle, surrounded by a flood of the same harkonnean faces, all of them bald and pale and muscular, neither of them familiar, only one, at the very end, waiting for her, watching her every step, even the slightest movement of flesh underneath her garments – Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her were like a hawk’s. She shuddered.

The road to her future husband in this hall at Giedi Prime. She walked, and walked, alone and exposed, and it seemed that the distance between him and her remained the same. But no, she was getting closer, because now she could see him better. His robes were of tight shiny leather with silver lining, they clung to his body like a glove. He stood tall and regal, a neutral expression on his face. Except for his eyes, of course. He held his hands in front of himself as if he was imprisoning his own body in one spot, as if he was trying to stop himself from eating away at the distance between them himself, as if he had to keep his hands from reaching out for her.

Irulan finally stood in front of him and, while the Reverend Mother spoke words of matrimony she couldn’t understand (she could understand the language, undoubtedly, only in that moment she wasn’t capable of understanding the meaning behind them), she watched Feyd-Rautha in all his glory. His dark gaze demanded attention. The only comfort was the veil that covered her face from him.

Sometime in the middle of the ceremony, Irulan heard a strange hissing sound. She turned her head very slightly to see three women standing behind her soon-to-be husband. All three of them looked the same—bald heads, black eyes, blackened teeth and pure hatred, addressed to her—different only in height. It took a few moments for Irulan’s frightened mind to realize that these were Feyd-Rautha’s concubines who were hissing at her. No one else, besides Irulan, paid them any attention, so she learned to ignore the hissing too.

However, Irulan was so focused on the concubines, she didn’t understand that the Reverend Mother spoke the last words of the matrimonial ceremony until Feyd-Rautha lifted his hands and unveiled her. She flinched, caught off guard, feeling small and vulnerable before him. His face moved closer to hers very slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. The initial moment of his kiss felt like a butterfly’s touch to her lips—soft, tender, barely there. When her mouth opened to him in surprise, he explored it with his tongue, and the kiss soon turned passionate, wild all-consuming. It lasted far longer than a dutiful wedding kiss should’ve lasted and it left Irulan breathless once it ended.

She stared at his lips, now red from the kiss, even more so in contrast with his paper-white skin. His breathing was just as heavy as hers, their chests heaving in tandem, but he soon regained his wits, reaching out his hand for her, which she wasn’t cautious enough not to take.

He started walking her out of the hall and down the dark empty corridors, leaving the Harkonnens and the rest of Giedi Prime behind them. He led her to a spacious minimally furnished room but she could tell every single item there must’ve cost a fortune.

Feyd-Rautha let go of her hand only when she was standing in front of a canopy bed. Then he disappeared from her sight, and she was too nervous to turn around. He’s psychotic, she had to remind herself. One wrong move and he might attack like an animal.

She felt her headpiece being lifted from her head together with the veil. She saw his pale hands put it aside carefully. She turned her head slightly only to see he had taken off his top garments, and she saw his naked chest, tattooed with thick black lines. He watched her face as she peered into his nether region, then grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.

“Are you scared of me, princess?” he asked.

Irulan looked into his eyes, searching for madness there, or for empathy. She found neither.

Swallowing thickly, she held his gaze.

“No.”

She couldn’t let him know how frightened she truly was.

Feyd-Rautha’s and moved to the back of his bottoms and he took out a knife, ornate and beautiful, like a piece of art. Irulan’s eyes widened in fear, her body shivered violently outside of her control. Her reaction put a smile on his face. As Feyd-Rautha moved his knife to the fabric of her dress, she closed her eyes, daring herself to get through whatever pain he was about to inflict on her. Most importantly, she couldn’t show panic.

She scrunched her nose, waiting to get stabbed, waiting for the blade to pierce her skin, then dig into her flesh, she waited for him to draw her blood, make her scream—until she heard fabric ripping in half. Irulan opened her eyes, drawing in a lungful of air like a man lost in dessert, breathing in oxygen for the first time. she felt the dress fall of her body before she saw her own nakedness, blushing from shame. She noticed Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her even if she didn’t see him, she felt his hot breath on her exposed skin. Her nerves were akin to violin strings—tout and resonant—as he stood behind her like a looming threat.

As Irulan tried to calm her respiration, Feyd-Rautha’s fingers dug into her scalp, kneading at her hair and messing up the fancy braids that formed a bun, until her hair was freed, falling down her back in waves. She felt his fingers brush through her locks—once, twice—and then, to Irulan’s grave horror, he brought the knife to her neck, his other arm holding her down by her waist, pulling her bottom into his groin. She gasped at the cold sharp blade on her delicate skin there.

“Still not scared, princess?” he spoke lavishly into her ear.

This was a trick. He wanted a reaction out of her. But he wasn’t going to truly hurt her, otherwise he would’ve done so already. She wouldn’t let him trick her.

“No,” she repeated, although a slight tremor in her voice betrayed the truth.

He pulled the blade away from her, grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. His lips touched her jaw tenderly and she closed her eyes at the feeling.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

His hands guided her to get on the bed, slowly and barely pushing her as she complied. She lied on the bed on her back, feeling her hair fall around her like the sun. Feyd-Rautha’s widened eyes roamed over her body possessively, taking their time to appreciate the curve of her neck, her shoulders, her round breasts, her flat belly, until they landed on her apex. His gaze was hungry, wild, untamed, which she took as a compliment.

Still holding the knife in one hand, he unbuttoned his bottoms with the other and took them off. His cock caught Irulan’s attention immediately—long, thick, and veiny, monstrous just like its’ owner. Seeing where her gaze had landed, Feyd-Rautha smirked, kneeling on the bed as she moved away to give him space, but he grabbed her thighs, pulling her close. He spread her thighs, putting her ankles onto his shoulders, his black gaze boring into her sex. His lips parted as if he was trying to imagine how she would taste down there.

Irulan was hot, so very hot, and the way he stared at her, the way he handled her body was of no help at all.

It was the moment his fingers touched her burning center that she realized how sensitive and wet she truly was. Feyd-Rautha hissed, realizing that very same thing. He began playing with her flesh as if he was a boy with a toy, and she heart the sounds of her own sex dripping and parting for him whichever way he wished.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, making her even wetter. This was affecting him too, it appeared—his cock was so hard and aching it was slowly turning red.

But of course, he couldn’t leave his knife behind. As he brought the knife closer to her core, Irulan panicked, kicking at him and trying to get away, but his grip on her thigh was like vice, she couldn’t move.

“Shhh,” he said, caressing her thigh. “There’ll be nothing but pleasure, wife.”

Irulan was certain that his definition of pleasure differed from hers, so she kept squirming. Only slightly annoyed, Feyd-Rautha gripped his knife tightly by the blade and pushed the handle past her nether lips.

Irulan released a prolonged moan when his thumb found her clitoris and began rubbing circles while simulteneously thrusting the handle of his knife in and out of her.

“That’s it, wife,” he groaned, watching the way her face furrowed in pleasure. “Take my knife like a good girl.”

And she did. His moves grew aggressive, but even the sight of his blood as the sharp blade tore the skin of his palm where he gripped it did not deter her—she was too focused moving her hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing her pleasure.

Only when she was at the precipice of her own release did he stop abruptly, pulling out the knife out of her and throwing it on the ground. Irulan was irrationally angry and disappointed, but that feeling soon ceased as Feyd-Rautha fondled her body, mostly her breasts and bottom, with his hands, leaving a bloody trail wherever he touched her.

Once finished, he began stroking his now-turned-blue cock, watching her soiled body as a mesmerizing painting. He then lined the head of his cock with her entrance and she tensed without meaning to. He put only the tip in, but Irulan tensed furthermore. He towered over her with his entire body, but not threateningly, it was more like a promise to keep her safe. Feyd-Rautha caressed her cheek, pushing in more, and she hissed from the pain that not even his tender movements helped soothe.

He was patient with her that night, but he wasn’t that patient, so after a few minutes of trying to slowly push into her, Feyd-Rautha thrust all of himself into her while kissing her at the same time, catching the pained scream that tore out of her with his mouth. He kept kissing her and moving inside of her until he was sure she wasn’t going to scream and that the pain eased a little. He pulled away slightly just to watch her breasts move at the rhythm his hips had set.

“Such a good wife I have,” he praised. “Taking me so well.” Irulan whimpered when the pain in her lower abdomen was slowly replaced with pleasure. “That’s it,” he said, moving his face closer to hers. “I want you to look at me as you come on my cock, princess.”

She did.

Irulan woke up. Her body ached and she felt disoriented, reaching out for the warm body that kept her close the whole night. She found the other side of the bed empty.

She washed off the blood from her thighs—her blood—and his blood from all the other places. It was foolish of her to expect Feyd-Rautha to stay until morning as a loving husband, but the abandonment still hurt.

She found a dress to put on and then sat down to brush her hair when a knock came.

“Princess Irulan, na-Baron is calling for you,” a servant said.

“Tell him I’m preoccupied with something.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t an offer, princess.”

And so, two minutes later, she was following the servant down the clinically sterile yet dark corridors, until he led her to a door, saying, “Na-Baron is already waiting for her.”

Na-Baron was actually not waiting for her at all, if his physical state was any sign of that. When Irulan got into the room, she found Feyd-Rautha in no need of any more attentions from another woman. He lied sprawled on a divan while his three concubines attended to his needs: two of them were sucking on his cock as if it were a candy while the third one kissed, but and nibbled on the skin of his chest, neck and shoulders. However, his cock, no matter what they did, remained flaccid.

Irulan reddened at the sight but more than anything she was furious. She would’ve turned on her heel and left right then, if Feyd-Rautha hadn’t already caught her with his eyes.

“There you are, wife,” he spoke to her. “After the magical night I spent with you, my concubines seem to be unable to satisfy me properly. I thought it would help the mattes at hand if you joined them. So, princess, care to join?” he motioned at the tow women sucking his cock. None of the three of them paid her any mind but she felt wrath emanating from them all the same.

Irulan didn’t move a single muscle. “I am your wife, not one of your whores, Feyd-Rautha,” she said coldly and tightly.

Feyd-Rautha merely chuckled at her defiance. She stayed in place like a tree grown into the ground, undeterred by his charming laughter.

“Of course not,” he said, still smiling. Then, in a voice that was firm and commanding, “All of you, leave.”

The concubines obeyed immediately, pulling away from him. The one who had his cock in her mouth took it out with a loud pop. They hissed as they passed her, and Irulan waited from them to leave from out the door, not foolish enough to have her back to them. But, just as she was about to leave, she heard, “Not you, wife. They are only pets. You are not one of them.”

Irulan turned back to him, regaining her composure.

He smirked at her. She noticed his cock was beginning to harden.

He beckoned her closer, “Come.”

She took slow steps toward him as he watched her every move with unblinking eyes. Irulan came to stand in front of him, raising her chin. “What do you want from me, Feyd-Rautha?” she demanded.

His grin only widened. “I want you to satisfy your husband. You didn’t like seeing me with my concubines? Then you do the job. Let me have all of you. Let me ruin you.”

Irulan stared down at him, seemingly unaffected by his words, although her insides were burning. However, he seemed to be seeing right through her. Neither of them said another word, both staring at one another, waiting for who will star first.

Irulan couldn’t handle it any longer, not when his cock was now as hard as ever and her own arousal was practically running down her inner thighs.

She leaned down and lifted her skirt just enough so she could straddle him. She didn’t sit on top of his cock, only the outside of their nether regions was touching. As she wore no undergarments, she could feel that his flesh was hotter than hers, almost feverish.

The smile disappeared from Feyd-Rautha’s face, giving space for a deeply focused expression. She moved her hips to tease his swollen cock and he hissed from the stimulation, grabbing her hips instinctively and hoisted your skirt enough to have her bared for his eyes only.

“Don’t tease me, princess,” he groaned. That was enough for Irulan. She lifted her hips and sank down onto him, eliciting a prolonged moan from the both of them. She was still sore and he was huge, but she soon found a comfortable rhythm that brought waves of pleasure to her core. Feyd-Rautha watched her intensely with his black eyes, but when your thighs began to give out and the strain on your muscles seemed like too much, he took over, thrusting into her from below, grabbing her by the back of her neck to bring her lips to his. He kissed her like a starved man, all the while untwining the braid she had quickly put together before running off to him. When her hair was freed, he sunk his fingers into it—she remembered him giving special attention to her hair last night too. It must’ve been one of the things his concubines couldn’t give him.

Whereas Irulan’s moves were slow and sensual, Feyd-Rautha set a vicious pace, one she couldn’t catch up with, so she let him grab her arms by the wrists and pull them behind her, taking full control of her entire body. She moaned and mewled on top of him, her breathing growing labored. She was on the edge of her climax, but stopped herself from coming, watching as Feyd-Rautha’s expression grew violent as he neared his own end. And just as he was about to come, she told him, “You won’t lie with your concubines anymore. They won’t entertain you and you won’t give them special treatment. If you want release, you will come to me and me only, is that clear, Feyd-Rautha?”

His face twisted from pleasure and Irulan leaned in closer, touching his forehead with her own as he thrust into her the last few times.

“Yes, yes, anything you want, my wife…” he answered breathlessly.

Satisfied with her work yet careful not to show him, Irulan pulled away from him and his cock, standing back up and fixing her skirt. Feyd-Rautha, still heaving, reached out his head as if to touch the fabric of her dress or the ends of her hair, but she had already found her way to the door, leaving him all alone.

As she walked down the dark corridors, Irulan was lost in thoughts of the scene that just passed between them, and so she didn’t notice someone lurking for her in the shadows. Three figures then stood in her way, and even though it was dark, the three concubines of Feyd-Rautha were hard to miss. They were hissing at her, fury evident in their abnormal features as they lunged at her, baring their black teeth. Before Irulan managed to scream or shout for help, one of them forced her mouth shut with her hand, the other grabbed her by the hair and held her hands down, and the third gripped her right hadn’t, exposing her forehearm. Irulan saw the sharp silver blade glinting in the low light. Her eyes widened and she squirmed, trying to free herself, but to no avail.

The concubine brought the blade to Irulan’s veins and spat in her face, “Na-Baron is ours,” before slicing her flesh.

Unimaginable pain reddened Irulans’s vision. She screamed and thrashed until all strength abandoned her, and, sensing that, the concubines released her, letting her fall to the ground. When her head hit the ground, Irulan was drowned in darkness.

Irulan regained consciousness in an unfamiliar room with an never-before-seen face in front her and a dull ache in her arm.

She blinked awake and tried to sit up in bed, but the man before her held her down softly. “Easy, princess. You’re very hurt.”

Irulan then noticed that the man was slicing a needle through her already mutilated flesh. The white thread that sealed her wound contrasted with the red-brown blood. She was sleepy and her mind was working very slowly, but all sleepiness evaded her once she heard a voice outside the room shout, “Where’s my wife!”

No one was there to answer Feyd-Rautha’s command, and they needn’t be—a moment later, he burst through the door like a sandstorm.

His eyes found her lying form immediately as he strode forward until he was right beside her. There was no smile on his face, nothing but ferocious outrage. His black gaze eyed the wound in her arm.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice low with rage.

She scoffed. “I won’t tell you. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Who,” he repeated.

Irulan narrowed her eyes at him. “They must have been listening behind the door as we… spoke.”

That was enough for him. After another moment of intense eyeing, Feyd-Rautha turned around and left. No sooner had the man that must’ve been her healer finished stitching up her wound that her husband was back.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching out his hand for her to take. “It won’t be far.”

She took it, despite how tired she felt.

Feyd-Rautha led her to a room with black walls and floor, and she noticed the three women lined up with their heads bowed low, their white skin glinting in the black darkness like fog. He made Irulan stand in front of them as he took his knife from the table besides and then came back to her.

“Which one of them hurt you?” he asked.

Irulan swallowed. “If I tell you, next time they will surely kill me.”

Without taking his eyes off her, without even moving—Irulan only saw his right hand slice the air swiftly—but it didn’t slice air, it slid the first concubine’s throat. Blood poured from the wound as the woman grasped at her throat in panic, trying to desperately stop the bleeding. She fell to the ground with a thud—the same way Irulan had mere hours ago.

“Was it this one?” Feyd-Rautha asked, never letting his eyes leave her.

Irulan shook her head. “She held my mouth shut.”

The other two bowed their heads even lower, visibly shivering.

The fury that overcame him was more visible by the way his muscles twitched under his skin. The second kill was just as smooth and barely visible, the same scenario repeating itself—Feyd-Rautha sliced the throat of the concubine and she fell dead.

“This one?”

“She grabbed me by my hair,” Irulan said.

He took a step toward the last of his pets, not sparing her a single glance, and the woman fell to her knees before him, “Na-Baron, I did nothing wrong, I’m begging you, she’s lying!”

Feyd-Rautha looked down at his concubine with nothing but wrath in his eyes. Then looked back up at Irulan.

“Did this one draw your blood?”

She swallowed, then nodded, watching with wide eyes as Feyd-Rautha’s blade sank into the left eye of the concubine. She screamed as blood poured from it, trying to stop the flow just like the other two before her. He pulled the blade out and repeated the process on the other eye. Then, more driven by a wish to end this as soon as possible rather than a sentimental feeling of mercy, he slit her throat, ending the third life.

Irulan watched in awe at the three bodies at her feet but Feyd-Rautha’s presence was the only one that demanded attention.

She looked up at him. He stepped closer, taking her face in his palm while the other hand held the bloody knife.

“I promised you, wife,” he said. “Anything you want.”

THE END

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #fanart #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd x irulan #feyd oneshot #dune movie #dune 2 #dune part 2 #harkonnen #austin butler #dune gifs #dune part two #feyd-rautha

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muffinsin · 3 months ago

Note

sorry for reminding you, i've just been binging your masterlists lately and I noticed that Daniela's part for the GP reader leash & collar ask was missing. no worries if you don't plan on writing it, have a nice day! 😁

https://www.tumblr.com/muffinsin/738200126975311872/what-if-gp-female-so-punishes-the-dimi-sister?source=share

Ooo, very fun!👀 ngl I tend to forget about older posts very fast, so thank you for the reminder (and the link!!!)🙇‍♀️

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

You’re groaning silently to yourself, your girlfriend’s ass on full display for you. You’re meant to be worked, and Daniela knows this. Maybe, she is so pouty because you managed to refuse her puppy eyed-look before, when asked to simply “not do your job”. Perhaps, your little Daniela only wants your attention as usual.

She’s not being very subtle, either.

Being tasked to clean up the library and hallway leading up to it, you have already made several encounters with her, and you haven’t even managed to get started on the hallway leading to her room, yet!

You’re organising the bookshelf, a somewhat bearable task turning nearly impossible thanks to Daniela’s input.

Every few seconds she reaches for a book you just put in, only to fly over a few pages and leave it out on one of the tables or a completely different spot in the shelf.

This makes the fourth time she’s done it, and you’ve had enough. A quick look around assures you that you’re in luck, for no other maid is around.

Daniela gasps when you grip her upper arm tightly. “Release me, servant!”, she demands, but you see the playful smile underneath her made up face of disgust.

Her defiance breaks down fast, when you snatch and grab the lower half of her face tightly and force her up against the bookshelf.

The mere position and being this close to your lover makes your skin crawl and dick harden under your tight uniform.

“What do you think you’re doing, Daniela?”, you speak through somewhat gritted teeth. Your little brat is driving you insane today, and gets off to it without a doubt, too.

She blinks up at you coyly, almost innocently. “What do you mean, lover of mine?”, she coos, and you feel her cheeks heat up under your palm at her own words. You smile a little. Sweet, little, naive Daniela stuck in her sweet, little world of romance and love, games and teasing. You intend to break the little brat out of her world tonight, or at the very least remind her that there are rules to this candy-sweet world of hers.

Daniela whines when you squeeze her face, her lips and cheeks squished by your hand. She looks utterly adorable, you think. “Be a good girl and behave. This will take hours with your little input”, you command.

She’s whining again, and you gasp when you feel her hand cup the bulge between your legs. Coy as she plays, Daniela has always been a bold one.

“But play with me”, she coos. “I’m way more fun!”, she whines. “Mother won’t know”, she adds, her usual puppy eyed look full on display for you. It makes your cock twitch.

You want nothing more than to pull her aside, to fuck and paint her face white, to take her body for yourself again and make her feel good, to pump her full until the little brat can’t walk. Perhaps this would keep her from interrupting your work, at last.

Alas, she has too much endurance and attitude to allow just a quick fuck. You know, you will not be able to deny yourself the sweet treat that is Daniela Dimitrescu when you’ve had a taste.

As such, you merely turn her around and slap her ass, an action rewarding you with a breathless yelp and a moan that makes you shudder and become painfully hard.

“Hear me”, you whisper, tucking the cute, auburn strands of hair behind her ear. The woman pressed between you and the shelf is shivering, her ass subtly grinding against your front. You notice, of course. “Do not interrupt my work again. I am not above tying you down when all can see you, Daniela.”, you whisper. She’s blushing again, a gasp pulled from her again. You wouldn’t! You couldn’t! Ah, but you would, and you could, and you will, should she not behave.

You dare grind your hips forward just a little bit, a quiet groan ripped from you as her soft, thick cheeks immediately have your dick twitch in your tight boxers and uniform. She whines helplessly. The little siren almost has you, yet you manage to still pull back again, her hood in your hand forcing her head back.

Wide, hopeful golden eyes meet yours. You swallow down the urge to take her right then and there. “Your mother demands my work done. Perfectly so, even. You know this, Daniela. I have allowed you to distract me too often, my little vixen. Now, sit still and behave for me. Read a book, or play with your sisters”, you suggest.

She groans. She doesn’t feel like talking to Bela or annoying and playing with Cassandra now! She wants to be with you! Still, even little, delusional Daniela knows when she won’t get what she want from you, and only turns to press a sweet, happy kiss to your lips before she swarms away.

“Don’t be too long!”, she whines, pleads, or demands. You aren’t too sure, but shake your head. This is not the time to get distracted. You really ought to finish with the damn library…

You sigh as you exit the library, hours later, your eyes heavy, your arms aching, your goal of finishing your work barely closer than hours ago.

You’re exhausted, and although Daniela has somewhat left you alone to work, showing up only every half an hour or so, you know her patience is running thin. That is, if it hasn’t entirely run out yet.

Your question seems to answer itself, when you keep on cleaning until you’re at the bit of the hallway right in front of the door leading to your girlfriend’s room.

Coming from the inside, you hear loud moans and whimpers.

Your cock immediately strains against your underwear again. Such sweet, filthy sounds coming from her. Moans and groans, little gasps and “Ah”’s. You grit your teeth. You know, she’s doing this because of you, to get your attention.

You turn back to your work, gripping the sponge tightly as you bring it down on the floor.

“A-Ahh-Ah, yes, fuck me”

Your dick twitches. In matters of seconds you’re on your feet, pushing, no, slamming open the door.

She jumps, the beautiful creature is laid out in the bed, in nothing but her red bra and panties, her own hand hidden underneath them.

She blushes as she looks at you, but her eyes pull you in seductively. Then, anger takes you over. What if someone else had heard her? You know she was trying to go for that, too.

You snap your fingers at your brat and immediately a gasp slips past her lips and she swarms to you, her head lowered as she falls to her knees in front of you.

A brat indeed, but a trained one. You smirk at her. It seems, your little Daniela paid attention during her training.

You lift her chin, her golden eyes looking up at you. She seems almost innocent. Almost.

But still, you see the attitude and brattiness bubbling beneath the surface, the very behavior that has made her act out so very often today. White, hot anger rises in you. You snap your fingers again.

“The leash. Now, Daniela”

Your voice leaves no room for arguments and she knows it perfectly well.

As fast as she can, she scrambles and swarms for the deep red leash and collar hidden away in her closet.

Again, she kneels, this time holding the leash by her teeth like the perfectly trained submissive you know your little darling can be.

She shivers when you take off her necklace, instead replace it with the leathery choker.

You connect the leash and give it an experimental tug. Laughter comes from you as the poor thing is yanked forwards, her face smudged right between your legs, against the bulge she was so very eager to get her hands on before.

You keep here there for a moment, smirking down at your little brat.

It seems, now, now that you’re here, now that you’re ready to put her in her place, your little brat feels like behaving.

You smile down at her sadistically. No, her momentarily good behavior will not make up for her previous actions.

You step into the room fully, the leash wrapped around your fist forcing her along. She is made to stick close to you, her body flush against yours when you stop at her dresser. You know, this is where most of her naughtier toys are stored.

She’s whining and whimpering, breathing softly but audibly at your feet as you search through it. You notice, she is attempting to stay quiet, as though hoping it will have you forget her naughtiness only hours prior.

Daniela’s cheeks turn a visible pink shade when you reach in and grab the first item you make contact with; a silver, smooth plug with a green crystal towards the end.

“Open”

Again, she obeys in an instant, wrapping her lips around the toy as she looks up at you. She looks so tamed, so sweet and shy. You know though, your little darling is just as much of a brat as she can be a good girl.

You let go of the toy and hum contentedly as she keeps sucking it, her hips rolling slightly, the end of the leash and its chain ringing quietly as you drop both to the floor. The cool metal against her skin has her jump momentarily, then press into it.

She watches with wide eyes as you pick up the bottle of lube next to her bed, surely used for whatever she would have used on herself next. All to catch your attention in the hallway, no doubt.

You tsk quietly at her, eying the open door and the abandoned supplies at the hallway. You know, you still need to get some work done today, if you don’t want to be scolded by the head-maiden again.

“You’re not going to interrupt my work again today, Daniela”, you speak, your voice controlled. You allow confidence and slight irritation to slip through. Just enough to have the leashed woman squirm a little.

“It wasn’t-! Ngnm…”

She quietens as you take the plug from her and pat her head, almost as if chiding her. Daniela sits quietly, unusually shy as you cover the wet end with lube. Right in front of her. She squirms in anticipation.

“Bend”, you command. She squirms a little, then, a naughty smile turns up at her lips. You grit your teeth. Of course, your darling girl must still brat when she knows you ought to return to work.

“Hey!”, she shrieks when you grab the end of the chained leash instead. A single yank your way is all it takes to pull the pretty brat over your knee, her red panties doing a poor job of covering her thick, bubbly ass cheeks.

You slide your finger underneath the red hem of them, then, antagonizing slow, you pull them off her creamy, pale skin. She squirms and whimpers, her warm cheek a visible shade of pink.

“Spread your cheeks, brat. This will go far easier if you submit”

Daniela moans and whines at your words, but obeys nonetheless. Smooth, soft, red painted fingers dig into her soft ass cheeks and pull them apart for you, exposing the pink hole hidden between.

You eye the plug; she’s had bigger, and smaller, before. But it will do for now.

“H-A-Ah!”, she gasps when the cool silverish tip pushes inside. It’s cool, compared to her warm, almost hot, insides. You feel the heat radiating from this part of her body, a sharp contrast to her cool skin.

Daniela groans and whines as the toy is pushed inside, until shivers take over her backside and a low moan slips past perfectly shaped, unpainted lips when you push the toy in wholly.

You give its end a light push with your index finger, a wet squirting sound coming from it as it’s pushed all the way inside.

She’s shivering and moaning, whispering little phrases you don’t fully understand. You doubt she does, even.

Daniela gasps when the panties are pulled up again and she’s made to stand, the chain of her leash and its leathery end dropping to the floor once again as you release it.

She stays still, perfectly obedient in this moment, save for her squirms.

Her hips roll, her ass pushing back and forth in an attempt to take pleasure for herself from the plug. She is granted little to nothing, certainly not enough to get off.

As you dig through her drawer again, you feel her eyes on you.

Daniela drools from more than just her mouth as she watches you, her mind full of dirty fantasies of being taken by you. The thought of letting you finish your work in peace crosses her mind, so long as she at least gets to suck you off a few times. You did seem so painfully tense today…Daniela giggles. She just wants to play, really!

She gasps, horrified, when she finds what you picked, then quickly follows this up by a playful, though slightly sad pout. Really? The tape again? But she’s been so good about running her mouth, as you like to say.

Upon attempting to turn her head, Daniela finds its lower half grabbed by you. You shush her, sensing the rising amount of bratty arguments.

She wants to run her mouth.

She wants to use it.

She could use it on you, too.

Instead, auburn hair is brushed from her face and the harsh, grey duct tape is placed over her lips. Another layer follows, and another. The woman tries to speak and whine, even to push the tape off with her tongue, but only muffled words and whimpers reach your ears.

She whimpers when her wrists are taped next. Had she not been such a brat, your touch would have been gentler, sweeter, a little slower. Alas, Daniela can only smile and blush under the tape as you grab her arms and push them together behind her back, then drag the strong tape around her wrists.

At last, your little brat is at your mercy. Or close enough, you figure.

Golden eyes widen when you move the vibrator wand from her drawer and pull up her panties fully before slipping it inside.

Within moments of the toy being turned on your sweet brat is moaning muffled phrases and groans of pleasure already.

“Mhmmm! Mhm! Mmmm!”, she protests as she’s pulled along, out her room and to the hallway. You know, this late at night no one dares to be out of their room. This royal is all yours to enjoy.

Daniela whines as she is chained to the window, the leash wrapped tightly around the handle. She knows not to tug, should she not want to risk the lethal cold-burn caused by the window opening. It’s completely safe, so long as she obeys and stays still.

You pick up your bucket and sponge again, lowering yourself to the ground yet again. Your fingers grip the sponge harder than necessary.

Her little, muffled moans and whimpers really do a number on you. Your uniform feels too hot and tight. You’re painfully hard, so much so you must struggle with yourself to resist the ever growing seductive option of simply taking Daniela.

The longer you work the more tempting this seems.

Perhaps, even just to pull her to her knees, pull off the tape and have her suck you off until the uncomfortable ache goes away.

In time, even this doesn’t seem enough. You scrub fast, as though able to scrub the want, the need, to bury yourself deep inside your whimpering little brat.

And Daniela hardly seems any better. She’s moaning and whimpering behind the tape.

You’re certain, she’s cum more than twice already, and even without looking up, you can tell her clit is awfully sensitive.

It only makes you want to play with it some more, to suck the little bud until the little brat cries out her pleasure for you.

She’s squirming and whimpering, her eyes pressed shut in a desperate attempt to keep still.

After a short while, you can’t keep up your calm facade anymore. You throw the sponge back on the ground carelessly, and for a moment, you allow yourself to look at your work and check your progress.

Half the hallway is done, and the library. A good enough result for you, you decide.

Daniela watches you with wide, hopeful eyes as you rise from the floor, her golden eyes teary. You coo at her, your hand raising to her cheek. She’s shivering and morning at your touch, even one as innocent as this.

“Mmmhmmm”

She watches eagerly as you begin unbuckling your belt, her hips raising and rolling already, her hands lightly tugging at the tape.

The vibrator is pulled from her quickly, and she shrieks beneath the tape when you pull down the red panties in one go.

You pull off the rest of your uniform and groan when, at last, you get to grip your pulsing cock and slap it against her cool thigh.

“Will you behave, if I take you now?”, you ask, demand. She nods quickly. Yes, she’s so desperate, so needy. She wants you, needs you, craves you.

Daniela whimpers as you grip the leash, yet stills when the window stays closed. Still enough room.

A gasp is ripped from her when the tape is torn off. Your desperation leaves you little room to be gentle with her now. Her own has her crave your roughness.

She’s pushed up against the window harshly, the cold surface unusual against her sensitive skin.

Your lips brush against her ear as she whimpers, then, with a groan, you finally allow yourself to line up your tip with her sopping wet pussy. Her arms twitch momentarily, revealing the urge, her wish, to grab onto you. Not this time, you figure. This time, your little brat will have to keep those claw-like nails to herself.

“Quiet, princess. You don’t want to wake the staff with your screams now, do you?”, you coo. She shivers. “Yes, ma’am”, she breathes out softly, her disobediently at last teased and punished out of her.

You groan lowly when you push your hips forwards, her wet pussy wrapping around you like a warm, soft blanket. She squeezes you immediately and you have to resist the urge to bottom out in her immediately.

With your hands sliding across your body, you find your grip at her hips. The leash is grabbed tightly again, and a single, loud shriek is pulled from her when you begin thrusting your strong hips.

With her hands bound, she can only hope to muffle her moans and soft praises by biting her lip, yet her head is soon thrown back.

You moan lowly, careful not to wake anyone. She feels heavenly, and the position lets you take her deep and hard.

Bit by bit, you turn the previous brat back into your good girl, whimpering and moaning, drooling slightly at the lips and praising each and every move of yours.

“You feel so soft”

“Your pussy feels amazing, my love”

“Give me more of that beautiful voice”

Each praise only makes her grip you tighter, more and more so. She’s close fast. You’re greedy, though, so when Daniela cums already, you make no move to slow down.

You groan loudly. Her arched back has you thrust and rub up against her walls and allow you to feel the plug at their other side.

“A-Ha-Aah!”, she moans, slurs, gasps, her eyes closed, her lips parted and slick with drool. Her whole body is being pulled back and forth with each thrust of yours, her pale ass cheeks pink with your front slamming against them each time.

You know, she can take more.

Your hand slides from her hip and between her legs, easily finding the warmth radiating from her.

“A-Aah! Yes! My love! Ye-eess!”

With her lips brushing lightly against the cool glass, heavy panting soon causes the window to fog. She’s pushed up against it with every thrust, her palms and the sides of her hands bloodied as she moans and squirms, sharp nails dragging against you and her own skin.

“Goo-ood girl..!”, you praise. You squeeze your eyes shut, your hips picking up the pace as you at last bottom out in her.

She’s moaning at every second of this, her auburn hair covering first her face, then yours when you lean forwards.

You shiver as you cum, thick ropes of it shot deep into her. She moans and whimpers softly at the feeling, her insides warm and her scent covered and engulfed entirely in yours.

“Now, come on”, you groan after a few moments. She can barely follow when you pull away and yank her leash, leading your good girl back into the room at last. You decide, work is done for the time being. Now you’re in mood for sweet rewards and sugary dessert.

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

Text

Hedonist.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan.

Continuation of Declawed.

Warnings: Not SFW, dubcon (Reader is under the influence of aphrodisiacs), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics. Word count: 7.5k.

You are in a room with four walls.

How you got here does not matter. You know you may not leave.

Behind a closed set of drapes lies a window.

In this room with no past or future, there is but one choice you can make.

Will you peer beyond the curtains or leave them drawn?

For if you choose to look, there is no telling what you may see.

…

“... [First].”

“Hm?”

You’re someplace different than where your mind alleged. This is not your coveted room with four, blank walls, where no one can come or go. You’re sitting at a dining room table that tilts too far to the left. There’s an untouched meal in front of you, a cup of tea that’s gone cold, and a napkin folded over your lap just the way you prefer.

A man sits across from you — Chrollo Lucilfer. He’s staring at you, his fingers steepled, and his body leaning forward. His meal has long been finished. You blink, feeling like a computer that’s booting back up. The fog covering your senses lifts too slowly for your liking. Eventually, a blueprint of your surroundings solidifies in your mind.

There are three people in the surrounding area, excluding yourself. Two are a formidable threat. One is not.

“You seem distracted,” Chrollo’s voice gives nothing away. His eyes do though, just a little bit. Concern? Intrigue? You cannot pinpoint where each ends and begins. “That’s unusual for you.”

You hate when he’s right. “I’d pay more attention if you said anything worthwhile.”

His lips quirk up. “Is your health not worthwhile?”

He’s got you where he wants you.

“If you’re truly concerned about my health, then you’ll return my Hatsu,” you maintain unflinching eye contact. He exhales through his nose, belying slight exasperation. “The events of today should prove I’d do better with it from the onset.”

“In emergencies, yes. And I did return it. Long enough for you to dispatch the threat… and to hurt Feitan’s feelings, evidently.”

You ignore his last comment, seriously doubting its authenticity.

“One of the threats, at least,” you make a show of looking him up and down. He sighs, probably heavier than he intended, the chaotic past twenty-four hours undoubtedly weighing him down. Sensing that this particular conversation is better off over, he reclines back into his chair. Instead of mirroring his posture, you cross your legs, fold your gloved hands together, and rest them on your lap. You’re doing everything within your power to give the impression nothing is amiss.

Alas, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Something is very, very wrong with you.

It all began with an ambush on the car ride to this safe house. Assassins are par for the course in your line of work, it wasn’t your first encounter and you doubt it’ll be the last. The main problem was that for the first time in your life, you were fighting without your Hatsu in a situation that would’ve strongly benefited from its use. The group focused their attention on you and the Manipulator must’ve met his conditions for his ability to activate. A strange sensation swept over and temporarily debilitated you. Chrollo was quick to notice how you staggered — truthfully, you played it close to the chest to see if he’d risk returning your Hatsu should you be in mortal peril — a gamble that did and didn’t pay off.

It felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to you. Your conjured sword sliced down your three pursuers, they were entirely caught off guard by its appearance. That left you without about a second to retaliate with your briefly returned arsenal until Chrollo realized what you were planning. Ideally, you would’ve preferred to attack Chrollo, since your win condition lay in either killing him or removing his ability to conjure Bandit’s Secret. He was aware of this and kept just enough distance for that very reason.

It had been Feitan who risked getting the closest to prevent the assassins from doing you any major harm in light of your lackluster dodging. Both he and Chrollo must’ve recognized what you were trying to do and likely considered you more of a threat than the assassin trio. You tried not to be obvious about your intentions, but they’re too sharp.

The second long window you had felt like more than enough to seriously injure Feitan. While your physical strength had been on the lower side compared to the other Troupe members, you were faster; far outclassing the others in that particular skill set. This boon came with its own share of disadvantages, such as your tendency to tire faster in a fight if it dragged on for hours. However, you were finally in a uniquely advantageous position. You had conserved your strength in case an opening presented itself, and although it almost landed you in hot water to not go all out against three opponents, it ultimately worked in your favor.

You lunged forward at Feitan with what should’ve been a definitive strike. The speed was there, but the power was not; the Manipulator’s unknown ability weakened you far more than you’d anticipated. It was only recently that you realized his Nen must’ve strengthened in death. It felt mostly inconsequential when you first experienced it; you didn’t think to leave the Manipulator alive as a safeguard.

Feitan withstood the hit with some minor injuries. Your Hatsu no longer heeded your call, proof that Chrollo had taken it back. You were subdued, Feitan being far rougher than necessary and grumbling under his breath. For the past few hours, you’ve refocused all your energy toward keeping whatever that Manipulator did to you under control without giving your captors a glimpse of your weakened state. This control is steadily waning. Meditation aided you for a time, but you can tell it's growing in intensity, hence your current predicament.

Your body’s temperature is steadily rising. At first, you hypothesized the ability is supposed to make you mortally ill, but your gut tells you that isn’t the entire picture. Aside from feeling warm and not having all your strength, you don’t believe you’re knocking on death’s door. The symptoms don’t point toward anything that serious. It’s almost as if it made you want something — there’s this primal craving inside you, trying desperately to claw its way to the surface.

Whatever you’re currently riddled with, it's excruciating. You don’t know how much more you can take or how to put a stop to it.

There had been a fourth party whose tracking ability led the assassins to you in the first place. After watching his comrades get eviscerated, his Zetsu wavered, giving away his position. Feitan is playing with his new toy in the basement. It’s been in the back of your mind that this fourth man might know the Manipulator’s ability. That’s why you’ve been so desperate to keep the extent of your malaise under wraps, lest Feitan learns something imperative and keeps you in the dark about it. It’ll ultimately be Chrollo’s decision, but you know they’re both not happy with your little stunt earlier. If they learn it’s nothing too detrimental, they’ll let you suffer through it as a punishment.

“May I be excused?” You inquire with the politest tone you can muster.

Chrollo motions to your untouched plate. “You haven’t eaten.”

You knew this would be a point of contention. Not due to any rampant concern on his part, you both know that you’re capable of surviving without food for long periods. He’s just using this as an opportunity to see what’s truly wrong with you — he has to have his suspicions by now. You glance down at your meal. Grilled chicken, leafy greens, and a scoop of rice. The ultra-healthy regiment that Chrollo knows you favor and Feitan complains about. You still remember the look the latter gave you when you wrote chickpeas on the grocery list.

Lying is a useless endeavor when Chrollo’s involved, he can see past your poker face without issue. Telling the truth is your best bet. “I don’t have an appetite.”

He makes a show of looking at his watch. “You always have dinner at this time of day.”

“There’s nothing I can do if I don’t feel hungry now. I’ll eat it in the morning.”

You know how he loathes food being wasted and try to redirect his attention toward that. This time, you phrase it as a statement rather than a question. Chrollo gives you a long, silent look. His gray eyes pick you apart without any subtlety. He parts his lips, preparing to say something, when his attention shifts elsewhere.

A blur comes flying your way. From reflex alone, you catch it. A first aid kit? Feitan stands at the kitchen doorway where it must’ve been thrown, wearing a black sleeveless shirt. You stop yourself from frowning. You should’ve been able to sense his presence. Any other time, doing so comes as easy as breathing, but your senses are off-kilter. You can only hope that the ease with which you caught the first aid kit covered this blunder.

Considering the weight of Chrollo’s stare, that might be a far-fetched dream.

“Fix this,” Feitan nods at the untreated gash on his right arm, courtesy of your earlier attack. Cutting any synovial hinge joint would have proved helpful, especially against a swordsman like Feitan. Seeing the wound up close shows your aim was slightly off. The attack landed too low on his forearm. You can’t remember the last time you made a mistake like this — it must’ve been back when you were a child. If it weren’t for that Manipulator’s ability, you would be in a far better situation right now.

The chair scrapes against the floor when Feitan pulls it out. Not seeing the point in making his mood worse, you wordlessly take the steps to comply with his demand. You go to the kitchen sink, remove your leather gloves, and wash your hands. The cool water running over your skin feels heavenly. However, you notice a damning detail while you dry yourself off.

Your hands are shaking.

You don’t stare at the impending problem so as not to draw unwanted attention. Your body's homeostasis is deteriorating faster than you can manage it. Or, to be more accurate, the ability’s strength must be advancing over time. Any half-decent Nen user should be capable of controlling their body temperature, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and heart rate, or else your aura suffers. You’ll have to pick your poison here. If you focus mostly on your hands, you should be able to stop the shaking for a time. Consequently, that’ll leave your fever unchecked.

You need to get this over with quickly.

After putting on surgical gloves and a mask, you situate yourself next to Feitan.

“Planning operation?” He asks, amusement in his voice.

“This is far from a sterile environment. I’m taking the necessary precautions to prevent an infection,” you soak a gauze pad in saline solution then dab it against his wound. You’re glad the mask is covering half your face, since you’re unable to stop yourself from frowning. Beating yourself up over your past mistakes won’t do any good, yet you can’t help feeling mildly disappointed seeing your botched work up close. Who knows when you’ll get an opportunity like that again?

You’re about to wrap it in a bandage when Feitan speaks up again. “Need stitches?”

Your fingers twitch despite yourself. He’s intentionally trying to rile you up. You won’t let him.

“... No.”

He snickers, his eyebrows rising, adding to his air of condescension. “Why?”

“It’s too shallow of a cut.”

“Heh.”

What a bastard. You momentarily consider the merits of stabbing him with one of the needles in the kit. The temporary satisfaction wouldn’t be worth the trouble it’d cause you later on, you decide. You’ve endured several torments from Feitan up until this point without ever acknowledging his efforts. Truthfully, you don’t understand what exactly it is Feitan wants from you. Chrollo is easier to understand in that one aspect. Your (former?) boss wants your relationship to return to what it was before — he said so outright using words sweet enough to make your teeth ache.

Feitan has been far less forthcoming with his motivations. He barely talks to you aside from scathing remarks, doesn’t sleep in the same room as you and Chrollo, and frequently goes missing for days at a time. All you have to go off of is the conversation he had with Chrollo the night you gave up your Hatsu in return for Ash’s safe passage. He said he was ‘interested’ in you. It was Chrollo he told this, so you know he wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t have been vaguer if he tried.

Did he mean ‘interested’ sexually? Romantically? It’s no secret that Feitan is a sadist, but he’s never made passes at you. You don’t think he’d be the type to beat around the bush if he wanted something like that. You’ve caught him staring a few times yet always chalked it up to him thinking you’re about to pull a stunt. Then again, you’re entirely ignorant to whatever agreement Chrollo and Feitan have over you.

Outwardly, it looks the same as it’s always been. Chrollo gives orders and Feitan obeys them.

So why is it that your instinct whispers there’s far more to the dynamic than Feitan being an uninterested third party?

You secure a bandage around his forearm then turn away from him and Chrollo. It’d be nice if enduring the humiliation of tending to the subpar wound you inflicted is your entire punishment, but you somehow doubt that. You know your body well and your limits even better, loathe as you are to admit you have any. Exhaustion is nipping at your heels while the night is still young. The thought of lying down, even if it’s just for a few hours, sounds divine.

“I’m finished,” you tell Feitan, sensing his eyes on your back while you throw the mask and gloves away. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Your hands. Show me.”

You stop turning the faucet on to spare him a glance over your shoulder. “May I ask why?”

“You can. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

Your eyes flicker to Chrollo next, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this interaction. The closed-mouth smile he’s giving you promises nothing good. He knows you’re hiding something — they both know you are. They’re worse than sharks smelling blood in the water. You’ve been delaying the inevitable to the best of your abilities, but this game of cat-and-mouse can’t last forever.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you take a step forward, only for a bout of lightheadedness to come crashing down. You’re forced to grab the kitchen counter to steady yourself, the granite splintering beneath the intensity of your grip, crumbling to the ground in a noisy cascade. You swear you’re seeing double when you stare down at the ground, your heart rate accelerating and breathing turning erratic. Deep breaths are taken in an attempt to steady yourself.

Immediately, there’s a presence by your side, then a delightfully cold touch against your forehead. You try not to lean into it.

“Burning up,” Feitan remarks. He moves his hand back, and you almost keen at the loss, a factor that is as mortifying as it is perplexing. You tell yourself it’s because your body wants to regain proper equilibrium by cooling itself off. There can be no other explanation. You’re coming down with a fever, you’ll rest, and this will be over. Simple as that.

Chrollo makes his way over to you like he has all the time in the world, his countenance giving nothing away. “He was telling the truth, then?”

“Guess so.”

“What… what are you both talking about?” You inquire, all the while trying and failing to push yourself up. You, a person capable of wielding an ax that weighs 4,000 pounds with ease, can’t even stand up straight. It’s a miracle your legs haven’t given out beneath you yet.

“Feitan has been interrogating the man in the basement,” Chrollo reaches into his back pocket to grab something, a napkin, by the looks of it. He holds it up at your eye level. You blink, having to strain so that the word scribbled on it can come into focus. The messy handwriting must belong to Feitan. “I wanted to wait and see it for myself before believing him.”

You almost get sick when the word finally registers.

Aphrodisiac.

Feitan must’ve scribbled this note down and handed it to Chrollo. You weren’t in a good position to be perceptive of your surroundings, otherwise, you would’ve surely noticed.

Chrollo reaches out for you, his fingers settling beneath your chin and lifting it. Your eyelids flutter shut, the simple skin-to-skin contact exhilarating, made even better when his thumb brushes over your lower lip. He gives a content hum over your willingness to accept his touch for the first time in several months. It’s a surreal sensation — how your senses can be both heightened and capable of blocking out so much — your brain is unwilling to register anything aside from the men before you. You’re backed against the now broken countertop when Chrollo advances impossibly closer, his chest pressing against yours.

“You must’ve been suppressing it through sheer willpower all this time. I’m impressed,” he sounds like it too. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, dear, but this won’t be going away on its own.”

Chrollo’s lips caress the shell of your ear, and his hands start creeping down your body while he speaks. “You need only say the word and we’ll satisfy you. Otherwise, it’ll progress to the point it’s unbearable. I don’t exactly enjoy watching you suffer, whether you believe me or not. So be a dear and—”

However he intended to end that sentence will forever remain a mystery. It stokes something inside you, rekindling the dying embers of your pride. Bloodlust radiates off you in tangible waves, cracking the glass of a nearby window. The miasma surrounding you is thick and potent. Harnessing the remnants of your strength, you press your hands to Chrollo’s chest, shoving him away with all your might. He stumbles back yet quickly steadies himself.

“Do not touch me,” you seethe, the words more of a growl than anything.

Aura envelops Feitan, who must be anticipating further resistance. The flow stops as soon as it begins when Chrollo puts a hand up to stop him. Silence loudly resounds in the tight quarters you’re forced to share with them. You feel akin to a cornered cat, hackles raised and teeth bared. There’s nothing practical you can do — it’s maddening to acknowledge that. You’re entirely at their mercy.

And you know neither of them have any to give.

Chrollo sighs, straightening the wrinkles on his shirt your outburst caused. “You’re making this needlessly difficult for yourself, [First].”

“Just… knock me unconscious until it subsides, or something,” you grit out through clenched teeth. The ghosts of Feitan’s touch against your forehead and Chrollo’s fingers upon your lips haunt you. It’s as if all levels of higher thinking ceased the second they came into contact with you. “I can’t… I refuse…!”

“Stubborn woman. Not normally this stupid,” Feitan clicks his tongue. “It’s Nen. Doesn’t work like that.”

You grip your head with your hands. It hurts. It’s hot. Lascivious need wraps its tendrils around you and squeezes. Your body is no longer heeding the orders of your mind. You can smell Chrollo’s cologne — sandalwood, amber — as well as the metallic scent of blood clinging to Feitan. You shouldn’t have pushed him away. You should’ve let him touch you, please you, satiate this voracious appetite that won’t go away on its own. It’s been so long, far too long. He said it wouldn’t go away on its own, didn’t he? How much longer can you fight it off?

More importantly, do you even want to fight anymore?

You take an unsteady step forward, your head hanging long, allowing for a shadow to fall over your eyes. Your hand reaches for Chrollo’s belt yet never meets its destination. An undignified noise leaves your lips as you’re scooped up, your cheeks burning and eyes shooting wide open. Your instinct is to struggle, but when you feel a hand press beneath your thighs to steady you, your brain turns to mush. The touch isn’t anything special, though your body acts like it is. You can feel an unnatural amount of wetness staining your panties. Consequently, you rub your thighs together, hoping to alleviate some of the desperate need for friction.

A deep, dark chuckle reverberates in Chrollo’s chest. “She’s precious, isn’t she, Fei?”

Feitan doesn’t confirm or deny, though you can feel his eyes boring into you. “Not mad at her?”

“That can wait for later. For now, though…” he trails off, his voice lowering in pitch and volume. “Aren’t you interested in savoring her to the fullest?”

You don’t remember the trip to the bedroom.

There’s the faint sound of rushed footsteps, creaky door hinges groaning, shoes being thrown aside, and the rustling of fabric. Your heartbeat rises to a crescendo when you’re placed on the bed, anticipation gnawing at you. The room is dripping with tension and a sick part of yourself relishes in it. You prop yourself up on your elbows only to find yourself getting pushed not so gently back down.

Feitan is leering at you from above, his eyes like that of a madman.

Not a word is uttered as you glare back up at him. Without his cowl, you can see every inch of his countenance, the cruel curve of his lips, and the upward incline of his eyebrows. There’s no time to dwell on the negative emotions such a feral stare instills, for you register movement coming from behind. Familiar toned arms wrap around your torso. Chrollo pulls you onto his lap, your back flush against his broad chest. His lips lovingly caress the shell of your ear, grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

“Are you ashamed, [First]?” He taunts, his voice taking on a husky tinge. “A woman of your status offering herself over so willingly to two depraved men… I can’t fathom how bruised your ego must be.”

This compromising position must do something for him. You feel his hardened length poking at your ass, betraying his arousal.

“Neither of you are capable of harming my ego.”

You exhale sharply when he tugs your head back by your hair.

“Casuistry is unbecoming of you, dear.”

“Is that what that was…?” You trail off, trying not to show how good it feels when Chrollo latches his lips to your neck. “Are you so caught up in your own delusions that you fail to recognize this is about satisfying a biological function, not an expression of passion?”

You’re grateful for your high pain tolerance when Chrollo sinks his teeth into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark for the days that’ll follow. He lavishes his tongue against it afterward, his chest vibrating from a quiet chuckle.

“Talks too much,” Feitan grumbles. For a moment, you wonder if he's referring to you or Chrollo. “Gag?”

“Unnecessary. We wouldn’t want to miss out on the sounds she’s going to make, would we?”

This line of reasoning seems to satisfy Feitan. Unlike Chrollo, who treats undressing you as if it were a form of foreplay itself, Feitan is rough with your clothes. You’d almost think they offended him somehow. You wince at the sound of ripping. The black fabric covering your torso flutters to the side, revealing the swell of your cleavage. Perspiration clings to you in a thin sheen from your body’s meager attempts to cool down. You swear you hear Feitan’s breath shudder when his sallow fingers descend on your chest.

He’s far from gentle with his exploration of the soft flesh. He kneads and pulls, giving little heed to what you find pleasurable. Then his pointer finger and thumb find your nipple, visible through your nude-colored bra. A special sadistic delight is taken in twisting the nub and observing the subsequent parting of your lips in a high-pitched gasp.

“... Cute,” he comments. Your fingers twitch, indignation spurring you on to try and strike him, a rebellion Chrollo ends prematurely by holding your dominant arm in place. He uses enough pressure that you wouldn’t be surprised if the skin bruises in the shape of his hand.

“Now now, there’s no need to resort to violence, is there?” Chrollo’s voice is akin to nails on a chalkboard. The irony of a mass-murdering thief preaching this platitude isn’t lost on you.

Feitan quirks up an eyebrow when you jut your head to the side, your teeth clenching and cheeks burning. Damn them both.

“Ego hurt yet?” Feitan croons.

You recenter yourself to the best of your abilities, considering every cell in your body is screaming for a return to primal instinct. They’re both dead wrong if they think you’re going to roll over and take everything they dish out. Perhaps it’ll spell more trouble for you further down the line, but the logical side of your brain which normally dominates is waning. You wrench yourself forward with enough force that Chrollo has to lessen his grip on your arm, lest he dislocate it. Maybe there is some truth behind his earlier claim that he ‘doesn’t enjoy watching you suffer’, or maybe the lack of bloodlust clues him in that you aren’t up to anything nefarious.

Whatever the case, this momentum and easing up of your restraints grants the freedom to do what you plan next. Your hands, marred with dark lines along the veins from Corruption’s improper usage many years prior, hold Feitan’s face in place. His shock is evident by the lack of movement on his part when your lips press against his. Your clammy skin derives satisfaction from how unnaturally cold his body is.

This is the closest thing you’ve gotten to relieving the gnawing need that’s been threatening to devour you from the inside out.

In the millisecond it takes for him to comprehend what’s happening, he secures back what little power you temporarily held over him. His kiss is rough, demanding, and clearly inexperienced. You’re too far gone to care. You make a show of kissing him with every ounce of languid affection you once bestowed upon the man behind you, your head tilting to the side and back arching to press further into him. Something between a groan and a grunt leaves Feitan when your hand seeks out his clothed length, palming at it until it fully hardens.

This temporary rebalancing of power mixed with finally feeding the carnal hunger within you is invigorating, sending adrenaline through your veins. Feitan nips at your lower lip and you grant him access to your mouth. His tongue seeks out yours in a dance you never thought you’d willingly participate in. The world is fuzzy, an unintelligible string of blurred shapes and colors you can’t make any sense of. All that registers to you is an all-encompassing desire to succumb to lust’s bittersweet embrace.

Is this what it’s like to be drunk? Stuck in a pleasant haze where the slightest stimulation feels far better than it should, potential consequences be damned?

When you part for air, a thin trail of saliva connects you.

“Still wish to gag me?” You goad, unwilling to resist making a jab at his expense. He enjoyed that far too much for you not to sneak in a snide comment.

Feitan smirks. “Not with rag.”

He then looks to Chrollo, as if silently asking permission for something. Evidently, he must receive it, for the rest of your outfit is torn from your person. What would’ve irritated you in any other circumstance comes as an immense relief now. The heat enveloping you is stupefying. Cognition is overshadowed by a primal need you never could’ve thought yourself capable of. You’ll do anything to offset this unique torture, the likes of which you’ve never been forced to endure.

You’re left in nothing but your sheer black tights and bra, your chest heaving in a desperate bid to get enough oxygen. Sweat trickles down your temple.

Every inch of your body is so unusually sensitive, as if your nerve endings have multiplied. The science behind whatever the Manipulator’s ability did intrigues you. Did it decrease activity in your prefrontal cortex, making long-term planning near impossible? Excite the endocrine system in a way that encourages sexual arousal? Trick your brain into activating fight or flight if you’re not being stimulated?

The relationship between science and Nen has always fascinated you. Regrettably, you’re not in the headspace to conduct research. It’s growing increasingly difficult to form so much as a coherent thought.

Behind you, Chrollo undoes the clasp of your bra, revealing your chest in its entirety to both men. If there was ever any doubt that Feitan’s interest in you is lascivious in nature, his current expression dispels it. He looks at you like one would a piece of tantalizing meat. You never would’ve thought Feitan was sexually attracted to you by the indifferent air he normally held. In retrospect, you wonder if that was his way of trying to keep his impulses under control until the timing was right.

“Lift yourself up for me, dear,” Chrollo uses such gentle words, but his tone tells you this is an order. You do as he requests. From this angle, he’s able to help pull your tights down by the waistband. It’s a slow, tedious process; he acts as if he has all the time in the world, inching the delicate fabric down to reveal your thighs. You shiver when his fingernails scrape at your skin. It takes everything you have to hold back a sinful moan at the teasing contact.

“I hadn’t realized tights were so sacred to you,” you say. He had no objections when Feitan tore at the rest of your custom-tailored outfit.

You can hear the smile on his face when he replies, “There’s only this one pair, whereas we have other clothes for you. It’d be a shame to not see you in something that complements your features so well.”

“How very considerate.”

Feitan helps pull it off once it gets to your knees, using a degree of care you thought him incapable of. It must be because his boss willed the action. He spreads your legs without any resistance, his eyes fixating on your covered core. Evidence of your arousal seeps through. It’s a sight that causes Feitan to mutter something in his language that you suspect to be an expletive.

A silver streak soars through your vision. You go motionless, allowing Chrollo to slice through your panties with his Ben’s Knife.

You glare at him from the corner of your eye. “Are you trying to kill me? What strange paraphilias you’ve developed since we’ve last been intimate.”

“I was confident in your ability to stay still,” Chrollo’s fingers linger right above your clit, refusing to touch the one place you begrudgingly desire him most. “Besides, we both know a little poison wouldn’t put your life in serious danger. Give yourself more credit, sweetheart.”

The audacity of this man is astounding.

Chrollo spreads your folds for Feitan’s viewing pleasure.

“Isn’t she just lovely?” Chrollo practically purrs, his baritone voice causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin, despite the internal heat afflicting you. “You can touch her, Fei. She won’t bite.”

It’s an invitation he can’t turn down.

Without warning, two fingers are thrust inside you. You tense at the unexpected intrusion and have to tell your muscles to relax. Fortunately, there’s enough natural lubrication that it doesn’t hurt as bad as it could’ve. You suppose it should come as no surprise that the man with an affinity for torture isn’t tender in bed. He cackles at your visceral reaction, but you have no chance to retaliate, for he pulls his fingers back out and slams them back in. Dull discomfort quickly transitions to a deep, satisfying feeling. Chrollo further enforces it by finally rubbing precise circles just the way you like on your clit.

You squeeze your eyes shut and lull your head to the side. Digging deep into the recesses of your hazy mind, you try to block out who exactly is touching you like this, wanting to focus on the pleasure and nothing else.

Chrollo must have a rough idea of what you’re trying to do. He sighs, as if disappointed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to face downward.

“Open your eyes, or we’ll stop,” he whispers. You bite down on your lower lip hard enough to almost bleed. “Oh, [First]. I know very well that you aren’t a prude. Come now. Don’t make me ask again.”

Your eyelashes flutter open like butterfly wings. From the position he’s holding your head, you have nowhere to look but at Feitan’s fingers slipping in and out of you, a lewd sight that makes you whimper. Maybe you’ll berate yourself for your weakness when you’re in a lucid mindset. For now, however, you’re starting to lift your hips to meet his relentless assault. You feel no better than a vacuous animal, yet embarrassment is the furthest thing on your mind. The word has been wiped clean from your lexicon.

With how sensitive your body is in this state, it doesn’t take long for that knot in your stomach to tighten. You’re panting, your head is thrown back, taking in each wave of overwhelming stimuli. Chrollo’s lips caressing your neck’s pulse, the friction on your clit, and Feitan’s fingers exploring your insides. It’s too much. The air is heady with the scent of sex, Chrollo’s cologne, and the metallic blood splattered on Feitan.

You’re so close, your walls clenching and the muscles in your thighs going taut—

—When they both abruptly stop.

Breathlessly, you murmur ‘wretched sadists’ in your native tongue.

“Him more so than me,” Chrollo replies. In your frustration, you forgot he was making good progress in learning your country’s language. Soon you won’t even have that to keep for yourself. He’ll have invaded every inch of your life and claimed it for himself.

Feitan brings his slick-covered pointer and middle finger close to your face. He parts them, observing the string of your arousal it forms with an amused expression.

“Needy thing,” he snickers.

He takes his fingers into his mouth, then gives a low hum, apparently enjoying your taste. When the digits slide back out, they’re coated in both his saliva and your essence. You grimace when he places them on your closed lips next, your obsession with hygiene temporarily triumphing over the aphrodisiac’s effects. Feitan frequently poked fun at how you wiped away blood and viscera should any have gotten on your person after a kill. You’ve never been partial to uncleanliness, although you could deal with it just fine when necessary.

Knowing Feitan, he’s likely getting off on your discomfort.

“Open,” he demands. You do with some reluctance, tasting yourself on your tongue. Your unusual obedience seems to please him. “Good girl.”

You narrow your eyes into slits then, warmth flooding your face. He’s the last person you’d ever want to give you a compliment like that. Condescension is an area that both Chrollo and Feitan excel in. Chrollo’s is often more subtle, taking a moment’s consideration to fully comprehend, whereas Feitan is cruelly blunt. You can’t decide which is worse.

The bed dips as Chrollo readjusts himself. Feitan moves to the side, giving Chrollo plenty of room to do whatever he wants with you next. Your former boss unbuttons his shirt and tosses it aside. His hands go to your shoulders, pushing in a silent communication for you to lay back. If it weren’t for the unfair condition you’re currently plagued with, you would’ve had some choice words at the ready. Especially when he strokes your cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, softly, as a lover would. You internally curse at how your traitorous body leans into his touch.

The distinct sound of Chrollo undoing his belt catches your attention.

After ridding himself of his remaining clothes, he lifts your left leg over his shoulder, an enigmatic gleam in his gray eyes. You feel his tip rub teasingly over your folds, gathering your abundant wetness. Proving to you just how desperately your body wants this — wants him. He’s trying to make a point. You imagine you must be quite the sight to him, all disheveled like this. Forcefully dragged out from your icy shell of propriety. Your hair which is normally styled in an updo is loose and forming twirls against the bed, your chest is rising and falling erratically, and your aura is a mess.

In this moment, you’ve essentially been reduced to a civilian.

You both let out content noises when he enters you. Your walls convulse around him, taking him in with ease, despite how long it’s been since you’ve had sex. It’s as if your body is telling you that it remembers him, no matter how hard you try to forget. In the dark of night, you sometimes wonder if Chrollo knows you better than you know yourself. He’s committed every little nuance about you to memory. Your preferences, likes and dislikes; he’s showcasing his mastery over you by providing the pleasure only he can.

You shudder when he fully sheathes himself inside you. It makes the aphrodisiac swallowing you whole slightly more bearable, quelling the fire just enough that you no longer feel you’re being burned.

Feitan lazily jerks himself off at your indecent expressions, breathing heavily as he pumps his reddened cock up and down.

“You’re a cruel woman, depriving me of this for so long,” Chrollo takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them above you. “I’ve longed for your body terribly, love. It belongs here — underneath me.”

By the way your face contorts, he must be able to tell that he won’t like whatever your reply will be, so he sets out to steal the air from your lungs. An undignified whimper leaves your lips at the rough pace he establishes from the onset. You’d almost think it was him under the influence of the aphrodisiac and not you. There’s no gradual, sensual buildup, just skin slapping against skin as he fucks you without mercy. You want to grab ahold of something, anything to steady yourself in the unforgiving onslaught of ecstasy, but his grip on you is unrelenting. Your limbs feel like jello, incapable of displaying your usual strength to break free from his hold.

Sensing your intentions, as he almost always does, he coos, “If you want something, then be a dear and beg.”

There’s a darkness in his voice that’s never been directed at you before. An underlying desperation. Chrollo craves you, longs for you, and you’ve denied him his greatest desire. He has no right to sigh and brood over your refusal to go back to how things were, before he betrayed your trust. You let him into your world. Granted him access to parts of yourself that have never seen the light of day, tentatively opened your heart bit by bit.

Only that alone couldn’t satisfy him. He needed more than your heart. Your mind, your soul, your body; your very being. And you weren’t willing to give him that. Not then, not now, not ever. So you purse your lips, glaring up at him with all the defiance you can muster in this weakened state.

He chuckles at the ferocity in your eyes, though it’s a humorless sound. Bitter, almost.

“My stubborn girl,” Chrollo whispers in your native tongue. “Try as you might, you’ll never be rid of me. I won’t even let you go in death.”

“I’ll— mm— have to test that theory.”

Something passes over his face then. Is it exasperation? Dismay? Hurt?

“Go ahead then,” he says. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes. “Do your worst.”

An odd sensation sweeps over you then. You furrow your eyebrows together, trying to place it, all the while Chrollo increases his speed. This is a phenomenon you’ve experienced and recently at that. It’s akin to puzzle pieces fitting together, everything falling back into its proper place. Then it hits you, the realization causing your eyes to widen and your breath to catch in your throat.

This bastard just returned your Hatsu.

You try (and fail) to lift your head. You can barely think straight, much less properly harness your mess of an aura. Being condemned to an eternity of hunger and thirst with food and drink receding from your reach would be preferable to this. It’s wicked; it’s Chrollo making good on his surname. His cock twitches inside you at your futile struggle. He hits a spot in you that makes you keen, you ruined orgasm from earlier growing closer and closer.

“What are you waiting for?” Chrollo challenges in between soft pants. “Have I rendered one of your country’s best fighters incapable of making a single strike? Hm?”

“That isn’t—” your own mewl cuts you off, “This is… not fair…!"

He shakes the hair covering his eyes so nothing can obstruct his current view. “I can’t be, darling. Not with you.”

If you didn’t know any better, you might think he sounds apologetic.

This is quickly disproven when his fingers find your clit and rub it just right.

When you come, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Your back arches into him, your lips part in a silent scream, and you manage to exert enough strength to free your hands from Chrollo’s grasp. You scratch your fingernails down his back, leaving angry red streaks in your wake. Chrollo curses under his breath in a rare instance, given his proclivity for formal speech. Your walls squeeze down on him like a vice.

His hips stutter and his grip on you becomes bruising. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, quietly moaning your name as if you were a deity; and he, your most devout follower.

Warmth floods your insides not long after, a seemingly endless stream of cum painting your walls white. Chrollo holds you in place, absentmindedly rubbing circles into the skin he just bruised, a satisfied smile on his lips. You feel him go soft inside you, yet he still makes no sign of pulling out. To add insult to injury, your Hatsu slips away like sand between your fingers, back into his wrongful possession.

Then thick ropes spurt across your tits, accompanied by something like a growl from Feitan. Seeing you come undone must’ve pushed him over the edge. He pumps himself to completion while you struggle to make sense of what just happened. What you just did.

The aphrodisiac is still active in your system, you can feel it clouding your senses and diluting your judgment. However, it’s far less potent than it was earlier. At its peak, it threatened to fray your sanity. What a dreadful ability. You regret killing the one who used it on you. Had he still been breathing, you would’ve flayed him alive for doing this to you.

Feitan must not be the pillow talk type. He’s quick to redress, slinking out of the room after giving you an additional once over. He smirks and then leaves you to the whims of his boss.

Chrollo places the back of his hand against your forehead. “Your fever’s gone down.”

You avert your eyes and he tilts his head.

“Don’t tell me you’re upset,” he comments, while finally pulling out. You feel his release seeping out in thick globs. “You would’ve been far worse off had we not intervened. Our guest in the basement can attest to that.”

When you stay stubbornly silent, he sighs your name. “I know your vocal cords are working just fine. Whatever it is you wish to say, say it.”

Your head snaps back so you can properly stare him in the eye. There’s a trembling of your lower lip that takes him aback, although he smooths his expression to one of indifference almost immediately. You aren’t the crying type. If anything, he’s probably cried more than you have in the time you’ve known him. He goes to wipe at your lash line, but you smack his hand away. The hit barely has any force behind it. Unexpectedly, he stills, his gaze boring down.

“I can’t believe I actually l—” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head. You’re exhausted, not thinking straight, and you probably won’t be able to move without help. Whatever lapse in judgment that almost caused you to admit an intimately held secret closes as soon as it opens.

Chrollo studies you. Whatever he feels then is a mystery, though you hope it cut him deep. Through flesh and sinew, down to the bone.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he eventually says. “I know you hate feeling dirty.”

When he lifts you up, careful not to aggravate the bruise on your person, you mull over a single question.

Did he change the subject for your sake, or for his?

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