#But there's still so much to do and it not looking any cleaner is not helping me want to continue
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*The pipe cleaners and fountain pens were sharp. Collecting a handful of them, she started scratching at the wall, low to the base. Emily knew there was no way she could possibly scratch all the way through, but the more she could damage the glass, the better. Working fast and thankful for the added strength in this form she was able to scratch up a sizable portion, maybe four to five feet of tiny chips in the glass.*
*Her next plan was, decidedly not as successful. The seraph picked up the chair behind the desk and brought it over, swinging it up over her shoulders before bringing it back down against the glass with a heavy smack.*
*Leaning down to look, it seemed like there was more of a dent in the chair than the glass. Not to mention the thing was so cumbersome she barely got any real swing with it.* “This is… not going to work.”
*She grabbed the spoon, pressing it in and dragging it across the cuts in the glass in the opposite direction, little chips coming off as she went. Still not a lot of damage, but with any luck the imperfections would help her. It certainly could hurt her predicament.*
*She sighs, this wasn’t going to get her out anytime soon and she needed to act fast in case the owl king returned.*
*The chair was too awkward to swing… but maybe just a leg would be better?*
*She turned it on its side and kicked at one of the legs, jumping up and landing on it with all her weight, thankful when it snapped off. She grabbed the chair leg, the masking tape, the jar of peanut butter and the wax sealing stamp and got to work. She set the sealer against the peanut butter jar and taped it into place before taping all of that to the leg. In a last ditch effort to give it more support she took wax and put it in the spoon, melting it before pouring it over the outside of the makeshift weapon.*
*It was heavy, easy to swing, and the metal would probably hold although she didn’t have much faith in the tape. She would have to do more to damage to the glass before she used this or it would be useless.*
*Fire… fire would probably damage the glass if it was hot enough.*
*Emily grabbed the jar of ink and pulled it to her nose. Bingo, alcohol based. She looked around the room at all of the wood and the burner. She could do this.*
*She quickly put together a plan, moving some of the sticks and grass from the nest into a pile under where she had scratched. She cleared off the desk before moving it on top of the stick pile, it was wood, it would eventually light too. Carefully, she poured the ink onto a piece of paper before wiping it onto the glass, the black seeping into all of the imperfections. The seraph tossed the ink covered paper under the desk and grabbed another sheet.*
*The paper lit easily, and she carried it over to the grass and sticks. Before too long, she had a sizable campfire under the desk. Wanting it to light higher, she tossed the second vial of ink in and watched as the alcohol lit, the flame almost searing her dress as she backed away.*
*The flames licked at the desk, finally lighting and she stepped away, realizing in that moment that she had just burned everything she had except for her peanut butter weapon and the styrofoam cup of water, and it was getting hot in here.*
*She waited for the flames to turn to embers, the desk collapsed, and her fire to go down almost completely before spreading her wings wide and pushing a blast of air across the room, hard enough to stop the flames although the heat in the glass from the now burned ink remained.*
*Emily grabbed the glass of water and splashed the glass, the temperature change damaging it further, before picking up her weapon and swinging.*
CRACK!!
*The metal made contact with the glass and smashed through, a small hole being made.*
“YES!!!”
*Hope renewed, she slammed two more holes through the glass in a triangle shape before pulling back and aiming right for the center. The resulting hole was wide enough for her to climb through and she sighed in relief before scrambling out, bringing her weapon with her.*
~The Dance~
Leviathan stands from their throne. Behind them servants move Leviathan’s throne and the waterfall behind it splits open revealing grand doors wide enough to fit a crowd through.
“Congratulations to the auction winners and thank you to those who donated, Emily the seraphim for the sackbut that you won back so… valiantly, and Asmodeus for your best dancer! Payment will be accepted through the clerk of the court and then the first dance will commence! Please, enjoy the open bar and hors d’oeuvres, they’re special treats sent in from Gluttony and Wrath. May tonight bring you everything you want and nothing you deserve!”
Leviathan spins, his dress twirling behind him as he makes his way through the split falls and enters through doors as they open, as if parting solely for him.
On the other side of the threshold is the ballroom. A simple platform is set with a chair where the first dance will commence, though few notice. Many looking to the ceiling, an ocean in the sky filled with bioluminescence swirling above the crowd.
“Hit it DJ Slime!”
#ask king paimon#ask emily#ask shamass#servant shamira#ass (but not that kind)#saving nessie#deadlylevi#lutuals#lutualverse#daddylevi#shamass
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missdollcouture
at home nail care: maintaining strong and healthy nails at home
as much as i'm sure (almost) all of us love getting our nails done, keeping our natural nails up is just as important, if not more.
pre-mani care is a huge part of keeping your nails healthy. so before going to get your nails done or doing them yourself, there's a few things you should do as far as preparation goes to prevent damaging your nails.
cuticle care
taking care of your cuticles is essential for nail health. I personally avoid cutting my cuticles since it could lead to infection or nail damage. but I still push my cuticles back (preferably after a shower) and that keeps them looks fresh
keep your cuticles moisturized as well because it promotes nail growth and strength.
trims
think of your nails kinda like your hair. trimming your nails regularly can help prevent breakage or snapping. I personally think keeping your nails trimmed down gives a cleaner and well kept look to your nails since there's not always dirt and bacteria getting in them.
biotin
taking biotin or just certain vitamins in general, is so good for your nail and hair health. but biotin in particular helps with cell growth and the metabolism of amino acids that are essential for nail growth
builder gel
i love putting builder gel on my nails to keep them strong and from chipping. I recommend doing some research before buying one so you don't get any with harsh chemicals.
quick hot tips
stop biting your nails. its hard, I know. but trust me its so worth it and improves your nails tremendously.
be cautious with your natural nails. use the pads of your fingers to open stuff (or things along those lines)
jojoba oil to moisturize your cuticles is literally the best oil you could use.
when getting acrylics or things like that, take breaks in between each set to let your nails breath
#self care#it girl#missdollcouture#˚˖𓍢ִ˚. ❤#hyper femininity#beauty regimen#beauty binder#girl blogging#self improvement blog#hyper feminine#becoming that girl#nail care#it girl energy#becoming her#high maintenance#tips#advice#beauty#dream girl
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I’m turning you all into marketable plushies, you watch (Patreon)
Bonus eyes because embroidery brain:
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Max Vyer#Dexter Favin#ZEX#Original#Cure#Bar#Caleb Stern#Brain has turned to plush mush lol#Tsumtsums really feel like the correct outcome here for those two hehe ♪#I actually went about looking over my like - one and a half Tsumtsums to get a grasp on their construction#Y'know for funsies just to see just to be curious#I think they wouldn't be all that hard to make - something to consider anyhow#I was also thinking about the Tsumtsum sneezing thing lol - many Max all flopping around a Dex! Or many Dex overwhelming a Max haha#Still on the ZEX plush brainrot of course of course he's just so cute ;;#Thinking a lot about construction of his eye :0 I see the appeal of printed fabric so you don't have to contend with large embroidery#Or seams - especially on circles hgwegh not my favourite#Just want it to be flush and flat! Eye-shaped rather than any bulges hmmm how to how to#I'll figure it out - there's ways to make recessed edges in plushies too! Just a matter of how#Few originals to throw into the mix ♪ Cure's already a plush bear! Specifically with the plush pattern I have on hand#I personally don't care much for the pinch style of sewing on features but I feel like at least for her ear inlays that'd probably work best#For the ''meaty'' part of her ears maybe that could be full and proper lol#Barrr <3 Just now realizing how off-model I drew him lol but either way! Huggable! ♥ I've looked- ball-jointed plushies are Kind of a thing?#Even if it was just by shape tho it'd be awfully cute :) And to dress him up in a tiny jacket hehe#More of the Helix lads! Bit cleaner now that I know a bit closer what I'm aiming for hwah they're so cute ;;#I do think it'd be really fun for them to have different eye shines based on their personalities :D#It wouldn't be all that much more work - maybe a lack of practice on specific shapes but apart from that#And rounding out with a short joke lol Caleb's the shortest! It's only right that he'd be a smaller plush! Obviously! Lol
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Cleaning a space that looks clean is visually unrewarding. And with no sleep there's just no satisfaction. But I don't know why I'm surprised when we clean everyday.
#Like I can feel the difference#But there's still so much to do and it not looking any cleaner is not helping me want to continue#But I'm taking a break#I have washed a sheet - a blanket - pillow cover - all of which aren't ours but had to handwash them all#I'd wash more if I had space to let it dry#Swept through the room I share with my little sibling - sweeping in the closet - moving the beds - sweeping the beds as well#The sweeping in the bathroom - and the hallway - to the living room which is right next to the dining room and finally the kitchen#Took out the trash - washed the dishes - and we still need to pack#Haven't even started it and now I'm exhausted#How fun#I also washed my shoes and regretted washing them before taking out the trash#But whatever it still feels dirty to me
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"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"
Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).
Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.
Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.
You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.
"There she is."
As if you were the Venus de Milo.
You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.
"How's my darling wife?"
Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.
Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.
"Kento. You're home."
"Mmmm."
Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.
And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.
You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.
You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.
"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"
"You're lovely--"
"--I absolutely am not--"
"--ravishing--"
"--you're ridiculous--"
"--gorgeous--"
"You're an idiot."
"I've missed you."
"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."
"I'm sure I do."
You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.
You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--
"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."
The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"
"And, I'll do it."
"No you won't, I--"
"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."
A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.
You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.
"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."
"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."
#jjk#pseudowho#Haitch#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento smut#nanami headcanons#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x y/n#nanami kento fluff#nanami#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jjk kento#Jjk x reader#Jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#husband nanami
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sitting there like has my art gotten better over time or do I just add way too much unnecessary detail now
#but lineart becomes honestly really meditative for me at times especially if im adding texture to something#i will say at least i dont pick such ugly colors anymore. i used to always have reslly bright colors and then i thought it was too much#and overcorrected imo so everything was desaturated and boring#oh i also used to color in the lines for like every single color on the character? idk how to describe it but it was tedious#i like it on other people's art but i dont have the patience and i dont like how it looks when my lines are “cleaner”#sometimes i do miss how i used to not care if what i drew was “cringy”#but i think im coming back out of that considering all i draw is like. gay shit and elves and various iterations of myself and also my ocs#i should redraw some really really old art after what im working on maybe#i almost started working on a redraw of when i drew yavanna in likr 2017-18 but i dont like the design i gave her at all#minus the weird branch ears those were cool#mostly im just frustrated it still takes me hours to draw lol. i dont know why i get insecure about it or about art in general#i guess bc no one in my family really does so they have this idea im good at it#and i wanna grab them and shake them sometimes and explain all the reasons im actually not and all the mistakes i regularly make#i dont know if that makes any sense and i dont know why i struggle to just take the compliment#i guess because i know im not good enough at it for it to be a job? except thats not it either because ive almost always wanted to write#its very dumb and weird. especially considering i dont really draw for other people. i mean i like when people like my art but unless its#for somebody specific im not necessarily going to take it very hard at all if its not to their taste. i just do it because i enjoy it#and because there are things i only know how to express through writing or drawing. and when one doesnt work sometimes its the other#maybe i just get frustrated i cant be good at everything#its not realistic but i always end up wanting to do so many things and getting frustrated when i dont pick them up right away#because OF COURSE i dont#ok where was i going with this#its nearly 2am and my head is pounding again i dont even know what day this makes it. at least a week?#i dont know
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you're pregnant... katsuki made sure to remind you every single time you leaned/bent over to pick something up, when you attempted to cook something for him before he gets back from work, or even if you tried to make the bed in the mornings... he fussed over the littlest things, refusing to let you exert yourself in any manner, other than the exercises he planned out for you...
then front door burst open, and katsuki stomped in, arms loaded with grocery bags, as he kicked off his boots. his gaze immediately moved from the smiled you greeted him with on your face, to the vacuum cleaner, still on in your hand.
"the hell d'ya think yer doin'?" he barked, dumping the bags onto the kitchen counter. before you could even open your mouth to respond, he was already striding across the room, snatching the vacuum from your hands like it was some sort of threat. "are ya' outta yer damn mind?"
you blinked at him, caught completely off guard by his sudden outburst. "i was just cleaning, katsuki... relax."
"relax?" his voice jumped an octave, disbelief dripping from his tone. he jabbed a finger toward your growing belly, to remind you yet again, as if you weren't walking around with all day. "y' shouldn't be messin' with this crap!"
crossing your arms, you fought to keep calm. "babe i'm pregnant, not incapable... the living room was a disaster, and i wanted to do something about it."
"i don't give a damn about the livin' room!" he fired back, his hands flying as he gestured. "what if you tripped? or hurt yourself? or—"
"or what? did something to pass time until you came home?" you cut in, narrowing your eyes. "i wasn't doing anything dangerous, katsuki. it's vacuuming, not weightlifting."
his jaw tightened, the muscles visibly straining as his teeth ground together. "doesn't matter. this ain't happenin' again."
you raised a brow, letting out a disbelieving scoff. "oh, really?" you grabbed a pillow from the couch and lobbed it at him, square in the chest, and he caught it, his expression a mix of shock and annoyance. "you're being ridiculous!"
"ridiculous?" he repeated, his tone dropping into that familiar low growl that always made your heart skip. tossing the pillow aside, he pointed firmly at the couch. "sit. down. now."
you held your ground, the heat of irritation flaring up again. "katsuki—"
"don't 'katsuki' me!" he snapped, his stance shifting as his hands found his hips, and he watched you up and down, with that stubborn glint in his eyes... "you either sit, or i make you."
"you wouldn't dare," you shot back, glaring at him.
"wanna test me?" he challenged, stepping closer, daring you to defy him.
the sheer intensity of his protectiveness was as frustrating as it was endearing. with an exaggerated sigh, you flopped onto the couch. "there. happy?"
"for now," he grumbled, shooting you a final warning glance before heading toward the coffee table to start tidying up the clutter.
leaning back against the cushions, you watched him work, your earlier irritation slowly fading away, taking in the tension in his shoulders, the tight set of his jaw—he wasn't just being overbearing. he was scared, though he'd never admit it.
"you're way more stressed about this whole pregnancy thing than i am." you teased, breaking the silence.
"yeah, well," he muttered without looking at you, stacking magazines with unnecessary force, "i can't do much else, so i'm makin' sure you don' screw anythin' up."
a soft chuckle escaped your lips, "your impossible," you teased, picking up a pillow to hold it against your belly.
"yeah, yeah," he replied, his tone softer now. he glanced your way briefly, the worry in his eyes undeniable. "i just don' want anythin' happenin' t' ya' or our kid."
your heart softened at his honesty. "i get it, kats."
"good." he said, returning to his self-appointed task. "now shut up 'n let me finish this. i'll do it better anyway."
you gasped dramatically, by the jab at your cleaning skills, and threw another pillow at him, landing it against the side of his face, the shocked glare that followed was sooo worth it. and he just watched as you held his brat in your belly, laughing at him.
mlist!
#bbkoolkatz#kkz fics#mha x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#x reader#x reader writer#kkz mha#x fem!reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo imagine
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note: this is an unofficial part 2 of this boxer!rafe and his sweetheart <3
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.
boxer!rafe can't stop thinking about you pregnant, and some would say he got more protective when you did get pregnant.
you weren't showing yet, but he was always keeping a watchful eye on you, protective hand wandering to your midsection.
after the scare you gave him at the games, he watched you all the time, willfully bringing home more food than was needed, feeling willing to come back home when he heard your whines through the phone, and buying you the most beautiful sundresses ever.
sometimes the two of you would spend more time together, looking out the balcony as he smoked a cigarette, and you looked outside with a dazed expression, hand stroking your stomach. he watched the way your nose wrinkled when a trendil of smoke reached your nose.
you made a screwed face, and then looked back at rafe with a pointed look, "i don't like that."
the next day all the cigarettes in your house were gone, and he went back to boxing. it was sweet the way your small proclamation could command him to do anything. sometimes you couldn't help but test it. test how much he loved you, and how willing he was go to. you knew it was bad the way you were acting, but you ached for the attention.
so it was all to plan when you woke up craving a burger.
not just any burger. it needed to be homemade, or even one of the burgers that rafe had made you during your first date. you remember it so clearly, the way his hand scimmed past your back as he helped you chop the cucumbers, a soft hand twirling a tendril of your hair.
it was all in your head, and suddenly you needed the burger with your life. you were pawing at his chest, soft whines leaving your mouth. he woke suddenly, taking a deep inhale of air.
"what's wrong?" he muttered, words slurred with sleep. you couldn't feel but feel bad as you pouted at him. you were wearing a pretty nightgown with a bow at the top. you watched him scan your swollen body.
you were pulling all the routes as you lowered your voice, "i need a burger."
he looked at you incredulously, eyebrows raised putting his rough hand on your shoulder, "right now?"
you frowned, before rubbing your stomach, "yes."
he groaned, falling back to head head first. you bit your tongue to stop giggles from spilling out of your mouth. he was so soft with you now, and you knew that months ago he would never act like this. but you couldn't help but tug at his arm as a grunt fell from his mouth.
"do you really need it, mama?"
now you couldn't stop your smile. you loved it when he called you 'mama,' and you loved the gentle tilt of his mouth when he called you that. and you rested your head back, nodding. finally, he gave an annoyed sigh before getting out of bed.
"goddamn it," he groaned, pulling a cleaner shirt up his head. you rested at his feet watching him put on his clothes. there was something so domestic about the whole scenario. tanyhilll was full of pictures of the two of you, small pieces of the two of you.
finally, as if he realised you were watching him, he scowled looking at you. still in your nightgown with a frenzied look on your face, he seemed to sigh again.
"ah, don't you think you should change?" he murmured, hands skimming over your top. you melted at his touch, practically hopping into his lap with eagerness. he let out a laugh before gently pushing you away, "listen. you gotta change out of that. can't have you looking like that."
you gave him a cheeky smile as if it was the middle of the day instead of three in the morning. somehow you found increasing amounts of energy and rafe was always confused about how you did it all.
"look like what?"
he shook his head, eyes flashing with slight annoyance, "nah. 'm not doing that today. get up bun, 'n go change."
although he sounded demanding you couldn't help but feel your heart drum harder at his words, biting your lip as you pulled on one of his old sweatshirts.
that night you got your burger, and he got you.
please let me know if you'd like to added to the boxer!rafe taglist!!
#boxer!rafe#rafe cameron x you#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#obx fic#rafe x you#fluff#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe obx#drabble#rafe concepts#boxer!au#shy!reader#bunny!reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#obx rafe cameron#dad!rafe au#dad!rafe#husband!rafe#tw pregancy#rafe cameron x pregnant!reader#rafe cameron prompt
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(MDNI, dubcon) (not edited)
Thinking about stalker!john price who retired early and can’t stand spending his time in his big ol’ house all by himself :(
Wanders across a pretty little dear like you, working retail in one of the little stores in the small town you live in. Can’t help falling in love with those tentative eyes that look up at him through your lashes, all shy and soft.
He just can’t control the way he feels like he has to keep you safe, your his now, doll. Follows you home every night, just to make sure you’re safe. Puts a few cameras around your house, only to make sure no unwanted visitors are hanging around, of course!
But he can’t help himself when he finds himself in your room when you’re sleeping, gazing at your relaxed figure. Oh, so peaceful and gorgeous.
You start getting a bit paranoid when you begin noticing a few things out of place. A door closed that you could’ve swore you left open when you left, a few missing shirts, a few missing panties, and now you come home to an apartment just a bit cleaner than you left it. Your bed made a little neater, no dirty laundry hung from a chair or lying on the edge of your bed.
At first you think you’re losing it. This shitty job must be taking too much out of you. But, on a night when an especially shitty shift happens, everything comes crashing down. Some rando decided to take out their frustration on you which then led to you bursting into tears and running off to the back room, frustrated and humiliated. A few minutes later your manager comes to tell you that you can go home, that bloke was dragged off by some guy into the night, she’s certain he won’t be a bother again.
So, you make your way down your usual path. Sniffling every now and then, pausing only to wipe your puffy eyes. When you get to your front door, you find that it’s already unlocked. Blinding hot fear lodges itself into your throat. Did that guy follow you home? (No lol)
You push the door open to be hit with the smell of your favorite take out. You take a few cautious steps in, scanning the kitchen and living room. It’s empty, but spotless. Dishes are put away, the counters looked like they’ve been scrubbed clean, the floors are swept. On the table rests a bag from your favorite restaurant, a note lies beside it reading, eat up little dear :)
John watches you from the crack in the door of your small hallway closet. Watches you walk through your house, kitchen knife in hand, looking for any potential threats. You look everywhere, besides the closet in the hallway. Oh honey, what would you do without him? What if there had been a real intruder and you had just missed him? Gosh. But, John’s upset is quickly replaced with joy as you settle into a seat and eat your still hot dinner. He can’t help but shiver as a relaxed look comes across your face, more relaxed than you’ve looked in ages. That must mean that you accept him now right?
Well, he takes it that way. Starts getting more bold. Leaves gifts on your counter for you to come home to, your favorite foods, books you like, items from stores you looked at just a bit too long. Keeps your apartment tidy, clothes washed, dishes laid to dry. At first, fear grabs you by the heart each time you come home from work to find another gift and a clean apartment. But after a week or so you decide that whoever it is that’s been watching you has been more of a help than a nuisance, and if they wanted to hurt you they would’ve by now, right? So you stupidly allow yourself to relax into this routine. Had to decide not to call the cops when you came home to find a few pairs of lacy panties laid out on your bed, matching bralettes resting beside them. In your size of course.
So, on one of your worst nights of the year, a shitty shift, shitty day, shitty week. You find yourself sobbing into a pillow in the darkness of your room. Sleep just couldn’t find you. You gasp when you feel the other side of the bed sink. Lying there, frozen. You feel a big, warm hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly. John sucks in a breath just at the feel of you. You start to cry more, “no- no please-“ you sob, terrified.
And John just coos at you.
“Shh, shh, don’t worry honey. M’not gonna do anythin. Just wanna hold’ya, make you feel better.”
He lays down behind you, warm arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer to his broad chest. And despite better logic, you allow him too. Find yourself relaxing in his warm grip, melting from his low coos. This is bad, very bad. Extremely dangerous. But at this point you just don’t care.
John holds you like that for a while, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, pressing his nose into your hair.
“What’s got you all worked up, honey? Hard day? Could make you feel a lot better. Could make that all go away.”
He whispers into the soft skin of your neck, and you whimper. Starts squeezing the fat of your hips, placing little kisses along the length of your throat. Your hands find his hair and tug, he takes that as a sign to keep going.
S’not long before he’s spearing you with his hot, heavy cock. Thrusting into you at a languid pace from behind. His calloused fingers rub your clit. Your whining and moaning, melting from his touch.
“Would do anything for ya honey, promise’ya I would, so perfect..” he groans into your ear, a hand coming up to roll your nipple between his fingers.
He’s moving so perfectly, his thrusts hitting a spot inside of you that sends ripples of pleasure up your spine. When you finally come, shuddering and clenching on his cock, he whimpers.
He doesn’t stop there, flips you onto your back and starts thrusting into you like a battering ram, no more soft love making. That’s when you see his face, that ruggedly handsome regular that you’ve had the biggest crush on, who just so happened to also be your stalker.
Your too fucked out too care, and he’s too pussy drunk to think. Fucking himself into you like an animal.
“Been waiting to touch you like this sweetheart, waitin so long- fuuuck-“ he sounds drunk, his voice thick. His eyes are glassy as he stares down at you.
“Need ya, I love ya..” he mumbles deliriously, getting closer to filling your tight cunt by the second.
“Cum in me..” you whisper. And that’s what throws him over the edge.
He cums, hard. Thrusting his seed into you, milking his cock with your clenching cunt. He’s crying, a few tears dripping down his cheeks. :((
“Love you, love you, love you, love you-“ he repeats like a mantra, fucking himself into you still despite the overstimulation. Looks utterly wrecked.
Takes a few weeks, but eventually he manages to coax his little sweetheart into living with him. It’s a lot easier, isn’t it? I mean he’s always with you regardless, been following you around for a while. Now he gets to see you constantly. Has you quit that shitty job, promises to take care of you. Deposits money into your bank account each week to ease your nervousness, just so you don’t feel too trapped, not that he’d ever let you go.
Follows you around like a lost puppy, always an arms length away. Eventually you mind less and less.
Months pass by in a blur and it’s not long till your stomach is fat and swollen with a little baby, and he’s on one knee in front of you with a ring. Doesn’t matter what you say though :( you’re his girl, forever.
(Gaaahhhhh I love him so much. NEEEEEED HIM.)
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) masterlist
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The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.
Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.
The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home).
Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?
Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep).
He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that.
Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?
Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.
He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite.
Then, one day, he meets a girl.
Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.
He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back.
“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket.
“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.
“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”
She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle.
He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed.
He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth.
“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle.
“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him.
“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”
Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.
He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor.
When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue.
Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later.
In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes.
A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind.
He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself.
Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?
He looks pointedly away.
It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?
Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave.
“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”
“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.
“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”
“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”
The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder.
When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”
It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction.
Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that.
“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”
#99% chance im gonna edit this to fuck before i post it on ao3 because im trying to properly balance the pov switch#also its not done yet#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghoap x reader#ghost/soap/reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader
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(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.
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married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
—
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
TAGLIST:
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#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#hunger games#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x you#coryo snow
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If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc
Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k
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“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.
You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”
“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.
Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.
You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.
He hates it.
The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.
You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”
Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”
“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.
He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”
He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.
You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.
“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”
He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.
“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”
“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”
The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”
Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”
He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.
Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.
Good people.
“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.
Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”
He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.
He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.
“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.
There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.
“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”
Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.
Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”
Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”
The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”
You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”
“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”
He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”
“I do.” He grins.
And he does.
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Deadly Affairs: Bonten! Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano x Bonten Reader (+ Bonten)
Chapter 1: Genesis
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [series summary]: you’ve seen this story multiple times, where the girl does everything to end up as the wife of the king. In any other timeline, you would have done the same. This time is different. You don’t want to marry the king. You want to be him.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [chapter summary]: your destiny starts on your 23rd birthday, at the back of Manjiro Sano’s car, with the loss of your virginity
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [content warning]: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, DUBCON, bonten timeline, fem reader, power imbalance, age-gap relationship, sexual harrassment/abuse, sexism and misogyny, implied torture, flashing, alcohol/drug use, slight manipulation, drunk sex, public sex, fingering (f. recieving), virginity loss (reader), unprotected sex piv, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, slut shaming.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r-18+] [not suitable for 17 and under]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 4.5k
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [chapter2] [taglist]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [notes]: I will no longer be using the series colours on each chapter, since tumblr keeps glitching. Sorry guys :(
BONTEN, one of the most dangerous organizations that has ever arisen from Japan and possibly, the world. Led by men born from the era of brutality, Japan had never seen such a business successful with covering the tracks of organized crime as much as BONTEN has.
Despite the brutal murders, torture chambers, human and drug trafficking and even bodies found with teeth missing and finger prints skinned off, the police could never completely trace it back to BONTEN. They knew it would have something to do with such a deadly corporation, but as far as the higher ups and Japan's government were concerned, they were just business men with the usual ethical issues.
Anyone who tries to dig in too deep will face Bonten's hammer of judgment.
It's the life you've grown accustomed to for a while ever since Kokonoi had picked you up from the street.
Poverty made you sell your morals to the devil in the designers before you could regret it; Bonten sponsored your university course in accounting, trained you how to use a gun and taught you how important you were to them. Inappropriate touches and comments on your appearance by your fellow workmates and your superiors, you knew that no one would give you the time of the day to care about your accusations.
Besides, you've seen prostitutes that went missing after complaining so much about bonten members being rough with them.
"When is my flight for Makarti scheduled?"
You break out of your thoughts and raise your head to meet the dark eyes of the man sitting in front of you with his head down, Hajime Kokonoi, the man who took you out of the gutters to become his personal assistant who helped with calculations, estimates and other errands.
"It's supposed to be by twelve," you say, preparing yourself for his complaint as you explain the situation. "But your private jet needs a few maintenance checks before it's ready for your flight, so I had to shift it to two pm."
You waited for him to say anything to berate you for not doing the maintenance checks yesterday like he told you to, but instead he kept his head on the work he was doing and brushed it off, making you sigh in relief internally. "That's good, I have some meetings to attend to anyways, so I can avoid having extra work when I return. Also, you've gotten my suits from the dry cleaners?"
"Yes sir."
"And you've sent a message to Mochizuki and Kakucho about the change in flight times?"
"Yes sir."
The room falls silent, save for the noise coming from Kokonoi's fingers typing away on his laptop. You tap your feet lightly, waiting for either his next question or for him to dismiss you until he raises his head to look at you with confusion and annoyance written all over his features.
"Yes?" He stops typing to pay complete attention to you. "What are you still doing here?"
"Sorry sir."
You immediately stand up from the chair with your bag and scramble for the door in haste, adjusting your dress that had ridden up to your thigh. The last thing you wanted was for him to scold you again with disapproving eyes glaring down on you.
Hajime Kokonoi was very hard to please and easy to anger, you could never tell when his switch would flip and you don't like being around whenever it did.
You don't see the way Kokonoi's eyes rest on the curve of your ass strained against the office skirt you had worn today, before looking down your legs as you struggled to open his large office doors
"Wait."
You stop halfway, leaving the door half-open as you turn to the man sitting some feet away from you. Kokonoi rests his angular jaw on his intertwined fingers before clearing his throat. "I just remembered that you would be joining Mikey and Sanzu for a meeting tonight."
You feel the blood in your veins turn cold as you process Kokonoi's words, your fingers curl around the door handle tighter than before, anchoring you to the ground and keeping you from stumbling at the news. Kokonoi doesn't miss the way your face turns sour at the news he had broken, and frankly, he can't exactly blame you for your reaction. The top two executives are frightening, even more brutal than he himself was, especially when it came to you.
"I'm giving you the rest of the day off to prepare." He goes back to his laptop screen and keeps working on the audit he was doing before. The world of the yakuza cares for no man, and if you despise someone, either you kill them or you stick to them like glue. "Someone will come get you by 7pm so be ready by then. You can go now."
The room goes quiet again. Kokonoi can feel your questioning glare asking him why he would break his promise of not letting those men come near you, again.
"Yes sir."
You stomp out of the room angrily and the door slams shut after you, leaving Kokonoi all by himself to keep doing his work. He had to admit, the head on top of your shoulders wasn't just for decoration, you actually do know how to use it.
You knew better than to ask him questions.
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THE noise from the club was deafening the moment you stepped into the place.
Once upon a time, Ran had told you he and his brother used to rule this place with an iron fist, before finding a much smarter way to make everyone submit to them. Now, practically all the clubs littered around Japan, including this one Manjiro Sano had decided to be the venue of the meeting, belong to them in Bonten's name.
Dressed in a sequined two piece cream top and skirt paired with heels, you certainly turned heads with your looks. You could hear whispers of men and women asking about who you were, seeing as you walked up to the V.I.P area with an air of confidence, somewhere only known Bonten members, business partners of Bonten or unlucky women foolish enough to entertain any executive were allowed to enter.
As expected, the guards in charge stopped you in your tracks. You could practically feel the predatory gazes of the men aimed at your choice of clothes, oozing lust, before flickering into disapproval at how you were dressed.
"V.I.Ps only."
His tone was condescending for someone that just stared at you like a piece of meat, although it was nothing new to you when it came to the men in Bonten. You don't pay mind to his attitude, instead lifting up your skirt partially to reveal the Bonten tattoo on your inner thigh. You could see his eyes practically entranced by the flesh of your thighs and the panties peeking through the skirt, greedily absorbing the details of every inch of skin as you lowered your skirt down.
You blame Kokonoi for letting you go through with that idea. Flashing people to reveal your tattoo isn't exactly ideal for you.
"Can I go in now?" You say and without waiting for them to finish, you push past them and got into the entrance to the V.I.P lounge.
IF you had a nickel for everytime Kokonoi lied to you about something, you would be extremely wealthy by now.
You could see the collection of wine bottles distributed across the tables, each to every individual's taste. Smoke billowed around the area, mixing with the scent of weed and alcohol. Voluptuous women were strewn on their laps, sides and even at their feet, smiling and pouring drinks, talking loudly or laughing at something they said.
This is not a meeting. This was a private party and you want nothing to do with it.
Haruchiyo, Bonten's number 2, is the first person to notice you awkwardly standing there and staring at the rest of them in horror and shock. His lips break out in a smile aimed at you, calling your name loudly and garnering everybody's attention, including Manjiro Sano who looked tired and bored, despite the woman who was sitting on his lap and feeding him. "The birthday girl is here, come sit down."
'Birthday girl? Does this look like a party I would like to attend?'
You mindlessly walked towards the space Haruchiyo had made between him and Manjiro, and sat there stiffly. You notice Haruchiyo hasn't touched his drinks at all, as if he was waiting for you to see this madness while he was sober. Electricity runs down your spine as he leaned so close to your ears, lips brushing it lightly to whisper;
"So, do you like it? Boss said I could plan it however I wanted since Kokonoi wasn't around."
'You shouldn't have.' The voice in your head is dry, sarcastic even, but you know better than to trigger him on his good days. Even if the urge to slap him across the face is creeping along the surface, you decided to keep things to yourself.
You glance briefly at Manjiro who was following (or trying to) a conversation the chatty escort he had hired had started. Your gazes meet briefly and you shyly avert your eyes away back to your lap.
Of course it was him that gave Haruchiyo the reins to host this party. Who else could do something like this?
You sigh weakly and turn to Haruchiyo, who was still waiting for your answer with a huge expectant grin on his lips. It wasn't like you could tell him the truth about how this party felt like it was for the men of Bonten and not for you.
"It's um…" you forced a smile at him before you continued lying. "... nice. Thank you sir."
A sigh of relief escapes your lips when his grin widens. You feel his arm drape over your shoulders, drawing you closer to his body. He dips his head into the crook of your neck, hot breath dancing along your body as he whispers in your ear again.
"Anything for you princess."
You sit frozen when he pulls away from you and goes back to the escort he was chatting with as if he didn't just make your heart race. You didn't get to think about it for long when a wine glass is put right in front of your face. Manjiro does not look at you as he shakes the wine glass in your face and you take it from him, trying to ignore the electricity running through your fingertips that brushed his.
"Thank you sir."
"Try to relax." His voice is low enough for only you to hear him speak. Your body grows hotter when he turns his gaze completely on your body, slowly scanning your attire for the evening before focusing on your face again. "We're not punishing you this time."
You nod quickly, making a huge effort to keep the glass in your shaking hands. Being so close to Manjiro Sano and Haruchiyo Sanzu proved to be more difficult than it should have been. Was it the fear that had been instilled into you by these men themselves?
Or was it the fact that you were surrounded by the constant reminders of your twisted sexual fantasies?
"A toast, to the birthday girl!" Ran's loud voice brings you out of your thoughts and you absentmindedly raise your glass up into the air. Whatever it is you feel about them doesn't matter, you couldn't afford to get anymore involved with Bonten beyond office contact.
"To life and a fatter ass!"
You don't notice Manjiro watching your facial expression morph into a scowl before hiding it with a fake laugh and repeating. "To life and a fatter ass."
────────────୨ৎ───────────
"YOU didn't like the party.
You don't say anything in response, with the light hum of the car's engine serving as the only sound in the vehicle and opting to look out of the window instead, watching the cars drive past yours. Of course you absolutely hated everything tonight; hell even your sour facial expression couldn’t be hidden by your usual fake laughter and flirty words. Manjiro Sano had noticed and offered to take you home early when you said you were tired.
You don’t feel bad for cutting his time short despite him having little time to be frivolous. It’s his fault anyways for setting up a disaster like this in the first place without even being considerate enough to assume you wouldn’t want it and you don’t owe him any gratitude for a job terribly done.
He sighs after a while, now looking out of his own window to distract himself from the way your skirt rode up to reveal the flesh of your thighs. "I'm sure Sanzu tried his best given how he ... is."
Something in you snaps at that moment and you face him with annoyance in your eyes. You were just about done with the way he kept digging the knife deeper into your gut. "I had plans for the evening Mr. Sano." You put it bluntly, not caring if he took offense to your words or just ignored you completely. "I did not ask for anything. I'm beginning to think you do this to make me miserable."
Your frown only deepens when you hear him chuckle quietly before turning around to face you with a curious look written all over his face. Somehow, seeing you upset made you cuter in his eyes; You always looked so vulnerable in times like these, whether you're walking on eggshells around him or outright being ungrateful to him. Maybe it's the alcohol giving you an extra boost to speak your mind, and he'll allow it for now because he wants to hear what you have to say.
But it won't go unpunished.
"What were the plans you had for this evening?"
Manjiro doesn't miss the way your face contorts slightly into an uncomfortable smile. It's not like he didn't know anyways, he had overheard your discussion with Ran’s assistant about what you wanted to do about two weeks ago and it was what made him call Haruchiyo to plan the most disastrous party ever to stop you from going ahead with your plan.
"It's nothing, never min-"
"I know you wanted to hook up with some idiot you met on a dating app, don't play coy with me."
You swallowed hard at his harsh tone, flickering your eyes anywhere but his face. The ridiculous last minute party made sense now that he had ripped the band aid off. Manjiro must have heard of your plans to hook up with someone you had met, since Kokonoi never let you even breathe in peace or left you alone whenever you wanted to do something.
"Today was my only chance and you ruined it." Your voice cracks slightly as you hiss at him. It was frustrating honestly, the one time you had to yourself without Bonten breathing down your neck, they found a way to make you even more miserable. "I have needs too for god's sake! I have a life outside being your lackey-"
"So you were going to let some lowlife stick his dick into you because you can't keep your legs shut."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
You try to reply to him again but no words come to your head. You can only close your mouth and look at your lap; it's unbelievable that he was berating you for wanting some form of intimacy in your life after being so pent up and going through so much shit. "So what do you expect me to do Mr. Sano?" Your voice is bitter but you didn't care any more at this point. "Ask Kokonoi to fuck me? Or should I go to Ran or Haruchiyo? Or…"
A smile makes its way to your face the moment an idea pops into your mind. You raised your head sharply towards him and jabbed a finger into his chest to buttress your point.
"Or should I ask you to do it? To corrupt and taint me?"
"Stop that."
"Do you want to fuck me, Mr. Sano? Is that why you hate seeing me with those low-lives? Is that it?"
"Don't start something you know you can't finish, (name)" it's a stern warning and you know Manjiro Sano isn't just being petty as usual. He was actually getting riled up from your constant taunting, which only served as entertainment with you because when was the last time you saw Mikey ever react to anything? "Or else."
But you don't listen to him. Even though you know from past experience that angering your volatile boss could end up with a bullet embedded in your brain, you push yourself closer to his body until you were flush against him, watching him stiffen as you lowered your lips next to his ear and rested your hand on his muscular thigh. It's obvious you're not thinking straight since you've had a couple of drinks and he's trying to keep that in mind, especially when you begin to trace a line towards his crotch area.
"Or else what, Mr. Sano?"
It happened so fast you could barely comprehend how he had you on your back to the seat with his body hovering over yours. Bleach blond bangs frame his face, highlighting the once empty, soulless eyes into darkened gazes full of lust and greed, hot breath hitting your face. A strong pale veiny hand pins your arms above your head, his knees separating your thighs, your jaw in a bruising grip of his other hand.
"S-sir-"
"A bit too late for that." He cuts you short, before turning his head to the driver of the vehicle. "Stop the car, now."
Your heart thuds loudly against your chest as the driver pulls the car into a dark corner hidden from the streetlights, coming to a stop. Manjiro does not ease up his grip, nor does he stop gazing into your soul as he tells the driver to "get out" in less than polite terms. You can hear the door of the car open and close quietly, along with the faint flicker of a lighter as the man walks away from the car.
With the two of you alone, Manjiro doesn't hesitate to crash your lips against each other in a messy kiss. Your boss wins the battle of dominance almost immediately with the sheer force he uses to force your mouth open with his hand so that he could explore your mouth. Your moans are silenced with each bruising kiss from him, his teeth grazing your lips before his tongue swipes over the marked place, engulfing your mouth with his until your lungs burn for air.
Moans of "sir" escaped your lips in sync with every wet kiss he placed on your face and cheek. Manjiro moves his lips from your lips, to your jaw and then settles onto your neck. The feeling of his teeth grazing your neck has you mewling and leaning into his touch. His hand leaves your jaw and quickly makes its way to your skirt, hiking it up a bit to reveal your panties and the Bonten tattoo on the plush of your inner thigh.
Manjiro pulls away from your neck and you let out an annoyed whine, already craving for his mouth on your neck again. His eyes sizes up the lace panties you had worn, a wet patch forming on it and he begins to trace a finger up and down your slit, teasing you through your panties. You let out a soft "hngh" from your lips as he moves to your clothed clit, rubbing tight circles, sending waves of electricity all over your lower region.
"Don't think I'm going easy on you." He mutters whilst pushing your soaked panties aside to reveal your bare cunt. A soft whine escapes your lips as two of his fingers start entering into your tight pussy, forcing its way into your walls until you accommodate the intrusion. "As soon as I'm done stretching out this cunt, I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."
You don't get to reply as his fingers begin to move at a pace that has your body trembling.
His fingers curled into you, pumping them in and out of your pussy. A loud moan escapes your lips when his fingers brush that spot, making your eyes roll back and pussy pulse around his fingers. "You like that?" He whispers close to your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin, not letting up his rough finger fucking, curling his fingers even the more that has your legs shaking and the coil in your belly tightening. "Of course you do. You like it so much, look at how you're clenching on my fingers like a needy slut." His tone is mocking and yet, it only seemed to add fire to the flame.
Your body spasms in his hold, breathing fast as a violent orgasm rips through you until it becomes a dull throbbing and your head hangs while trying to catch your breath. Manjiro pulls away from your cunt and kneels upright. You peek through your lashes, watching him impatiently unbuckle his belt with one hand and toss it aside on the floor, followed by him working down the zipper and buttons of his pants, tugging it to his knees along with his boxers to reveal his thick, veiny cock springs free of its confines, drops of pre leaking from it.
He takes his dick in his free hand and smears the tip with pre before lining it up with your hole. A quiet groan escapes your lips as he rubs his length against your glistening pussy gathering all the slick, your heavy breathing matching his own. His grip on your hands above your head tightens, keeping you in place as he positions his tip in front of your entrance.
The pain when he pushes his tip into you is almost unbearable.
Your eyes snapped shut in response and you bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming as he slowly inched into you. "It'll be much easier for the both of us if you relax." He hisses at you, before reaching for your clit and circling it gently, trying to distract you from the pain. "Breathe."
His words were like a mantra and you found yourself taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying your hardest to relax. Slowly, the pain from being stretched out gave way to feeling so full for the first time until he was buried at the hilt. A groan escapes Manjiro's lips; the feeling of your velvety walls around his hard cock was divine and if he didn't have any ounce of self control he would have cum immediately. His hips experimental rolls against yours and the loud "Manjiro" you let out had his brain short circuiting.
Everything is a blur after that.
His pace is fast, angling himself to your g-spot and abusing it, the whole car shaking with the power of his thrusts. His finger plays with your clit, despite you screaming "too much sir, too much!" in between moans and trying to squirm away from his brutal ministrations.
"Don't run away now, (name), I'm just doing what you want. Look at how well you're doing for a virgin." He says in between pants, thrusting into you even faster. He doesn't miss the whimper escaping your lips as his tip abuses your g-spot repeatedly- in fact it only encourages him to keep up the pace. "You're so obedient, I like this version of you. Might make you my personal slut- shit-"
His balls tighten at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him at that sentence. Seeing him staring down at you condescendingly as he fucks into you hard is shamefully arousing, and your mouth can't help letting out loud moans of pleasure when his fat tip prods against your cunt.
The noises of skin slapping skin from the intensity of his thrusts in the car is obscene and noisy, you're sure the guard standing outside is well aware of what is going on.
He lets go of your clit briefly to put your leg on his bony shoulder, bringing you even closer to him and presses a hot, messy kiss on your lips, his tongue playing with yours again. You answer his kiss with another weak moan, the coil in your belly tighten once again with the urge to snap.
"You look so fucked out, it's pathetic" he laughs against your lips and moves his head to the crook of your neck. His grip tightens on your hand as he holds your trembling body in place. "I would have mistakened you for a slut if you weren't so fucking tight." His hips stutter, before regaining his pace again. He spits out darkly; "Since you're so cock hungry, maybe you should be our personal slut, huh? Bonten's cumrag?"
Maybe it's the alcohol coupled with the intense feeling of pleasure that has your mind completely dumb for him. Maybe it's because he's the one in control of everything as he rolls his hips into you, bringing you closer and closer to edge, his dark eyes clouded with lust and greed peering into yours that had you saying "yes, yes yes yes-" until your second orgasm washes over you, more intensely than the first and knocks you out completely soon after.
He falls over the edge too, pumping loads and loads of cum into you as he bucks into you with a few more thrusts, more than anything he's produced before until he's spent completely. He pulls himself away from your cunt immediately and sits on his heels, dark eyes watching cum leak out of your abused hole and pool down your cunt with interest. Manjiro's eyes flicker up to your face and realized you have passed out.
'It must have been too intense for you, huh.'
He releases your hands above your head, taking note of the fingerprint bruises on his hand and reaches for your bag to take out your wipes. He cleans the cum and specks of blood outside your cunt and tries to dab off the stain on the chair as well before tugging your skirt down and adjusting his pants. Wounding down the window of the car, Manjiro signs the driver outside to come in and he obeys immediately, putting out his cigarette on the concrete wall.
A sigh escapes his lips, in sync with the car engine revving up again. Manjiro's eyes flicker down to your sleeping figure that he's maneuvered to his lap and trails his gaze down to the marks littered all over your jaw and neck. Deft fingers circle around the swelling skin, still lost in thought about how pretty you look with his markings.
Something in him is selfish when it comes to you. He’s never been outright with his affections, but there’s just something about you that makes him want to have you in his cage, trapped with him. Perhaps it’s why he let Koko take you in all those years ago and why you haven’t died yet despite your misdeeds. Maybe it’s because he sees himself in you; the pain and the loss, the madness that you’ve buried deep down in your heart.
But for now, he’ll settle with whatever you both have. As long as you stayed with him. And as long as you stayed loyal to Bonten.
"Take us to my house."
Forever. Even in death.
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#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x reader smut#tr x reader#tr#tr smut#bonten x reader#sanzu bonten#bonten mikey x reader#bonten smut#bonten mikey#bonten#hajime kokonoi#mikey x reader smut#mikey sano x reader smut#mikey sano#bonten mikey x reader smut#bonten mikey sano#bonten timeline#mikey x fem reader#mikey x femreader#sano mikey manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#manjiro x reader#tw.dark content#read the warnings
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Helllloooo :) if at all possible, could I request a fic for when stripper!reader realizes that Spencer actually like-likes her? Maybe he finally makes a real move or plans a “fancy” date to show her how much she means to him? She definitely wouldn’t believe him at first/think she deserves it, but if it could be a happy ending, I’d appreciate it so much. 🥺🥺
🐈⬛ thank youuuu
ty for requesting <3 fem
He smells like coffee.
"Hi!" you say, bending under the weight of his hug.
"What are you," —he drags his face against your cheek— "doing here, I thought you were," —his hand cups your neck as he pulls away— "going to Moira's for the weekend?"
"You sound so happy," you say, nonplussed.
"Yeah I'm happy. Do you wanna stay over? We can go to the movies, or we can get takeout, we can do both." Spencer beams at you. "Sorry, I'm– I'm rushing. I'm just happy. Is everything okay? What happened to house sitting?"
"Oh, nothing, she missed her flight," you say. "Can I come in?"
Spencer ushers you inside. His apartment is cleaner than usual. He's actually had time to clean, it seems, the faint scent of disinfectant alive in the kitchen and fresh laundry folded on the table behind the couch. He follows your eyes. "I did the stuff you left, last time. But I ended up with like, three pairs of your socks? How did that happen?"
"You didn't have to."
"Why wouldn't I?" He goes to walk off but stops, twisting around to give you another hug from the side. "Tea?"
Your face feels hot. "Yes, please."
Spencer takes to the kitchen to make tea, one of your shared routines. He grabs the kettle from the cabinet, two mugs, and two teabags. You don't know why you stay in the living room as he fills the kettle. He's putting it on the stove when he says, "Oh, hey, I got you, uh– you liked my soap, right? The chamomile? So I got you some. It's in my room, and I got you some of your chocolates from Leaven."
"You did?"
You fail to hide your excitement. Spencer waves you away without looking. "They're with the soap."
You laugh to yourself, leaning down to pull your sneakers off of your heels. You leave them by the couch and slip over the hardwood into his room, where your promised soap and chocolate sit on one of his desks. He calls them your chocolates, but you only ever tried them because he saw you looking at them one time and bought them as a surprise. You've been hooked on them ever since.
You're thinking about what joke you can make to hear him laugh. Something on the nose about him ruining your future career aspirations or a flirty nothing, maybe. You just want me to fall out of shape so I can't work.
The suitcase on the bed distracts you. Open, half packed.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask him, chocolates and soap held loosely to your stomach.
Spencer takes the kettle off of the heat, bringing it to the two mugs to top them one at a time. "What?"
"Your suitcase?"
His shoulders tighten just so. "Well, there's this convention happening but I hate driving in the dark, so I figured I'd stay up there."
"When, tonight?"
"Yeah." He picks up the mugs and shoots you a smile. "But obviously I'm not going now."
Obviously? Spencer rounds the side of the couch to sit down, murmuring for you to come and sit with him. You follow his order without question, setting yourself on the couch cushion beside him, and find there's little resistance in you to leave space between your thighs. He leans into you as soon as he's able and hands you your mug.
There's something in his eyes. A warmth. A real affection. "I'd definitely rather be with you here than without you there. Even if there's a guest speaker who's actually managed to split shared arteries between conjoined twins while they're still in the womb."
"You're interested in that stuff?"
"Just for fun." He doesn't drink his tea. He probably didn't want any, a coffee mug already on the table, but he always makes two cups. You think it might be so you don't feel like you're an imposition. He's that special brand of thoughtful.
"Can I ask you something?" you ask, your heartbeat a tangible thump under your skin. It's a silly question guided by a stupid thought, but you have to ask. You've always wanted to see other people's hands, so to speak, uncomfortable with the unknown.
"Anything."
You've exposed the most private parts of you and still it's hard to be vulnerable. It's easier knowing you're with Spencer, but not easy. "Do you like me?"
Spencer doesn't do either of you the disservice of pretending he doesn't know what you mean. His voice is measured but shyness creeps in, an almost questioning lilt to his words as he says, "Well, yeah. I thought you already knew that."
"I thought you… appreciated the aesthetic of me."
"I do." He looks at your forehead rather than your eyes. "You know you're pretty, and your dancing, it's– it's pretty too. I think you're beautiful, but that's really not the only thing about you. You've been remarkably easy to fall for."
His cheeks are suddenly red. A blotchy staining under his cheekbones and up over the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't lie, but the blush cements that he's telling the truth. Spencer really, truly likes you, enough to buy you the gifts that sit in your lap and to cancel trips. He'd rather stay home with you and drink tea on the couch than be anywhere else.
"Spence, if you think it was easy for you, you have no idea what it's been like for me," you say quietly. That draws his eyeline back to your face. You smile at him gently. "No idea."
He puts his mug down on the table to hug you. "Careful of your tea," he says, his smile audible.
You hug his arm to your chest with one hand. When he kisses the side of your head, you're pleasantly shocked.
"I didn't realise," you say. "Sorry, Spence, I never–" Never thought you'd like me like that. "I didn't know."
"I was just waiting for you to catch up."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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"Be Mine or You Will Burn"
Rollo x GN!Reader
AN: Me and my friend are Rollo fans and they've inspired me to write this idea out 🤣
You were simply just walking around admiring the scenery of Noble Bell where you went back to the cathedral to appreciate the artistry of the stain glass. Each panel depicting how Judge Claude Frollo and his accomplishments.
Rollo, the school’s student council president has welcomed the NRC students by giving them a tour but his obvious disdain for magic users made it clear that he was rushing to get the tour done as fast as possible to get away from them. Heck you would even bet that the only reason he was able to get through the whole tour was because he only set his attention towards you barely minding the other guests. He sometimes casts a watchful eye on them but other than that he doesn’t particularly engage with them compared to you.
With those signs in display, everyone from NRC has come to the conclusion that them being invited here has an ulterior motive to it. Briefly shaking those thoughts from your mind, you admired the lights coming through the different colored windows surrounding you in a colorful halo.
My what a beautiful sight indeed.
Magic wielder or not, you’re still a student from NRC so of course Rollo has kept a close eye on you when freely strolling around the school. But he can’t help the fact that you’re devoid of any magic at all has him deeply fascinated. And to think to mingle around those…ahem.
Do not be fooled he’s only keeping watch of you because he can tell that everyone from NRC are quite attached to you especially that dragon fae. What better way to keep them in check when he has you close and in his clutches.
Walking towards you he silently stood in behind you. He held in a small chuckle as he saw you’re awestruck face looking at the beautiful work of art. “Impressed?”
Jumping a little bit in surprise, you quickly looked behind to see him “O-oh! Yes, I haven’t seen a stained glass window in person before, just through pictures.” You confessed
“Hmph of course such beauty is painstakingly crafted by hand of course you won’t see a lot of it. Craftsmanship that took people’s skill and talent with no assistance from cheap tricks everyone reveres.” He spits
“Magic?”
Rollo stayed silent at your question.
You decide to let go of the subject with his sudden silence. Instead you walked closer to the window to admire the small details. It was such detailed you can’t even imagine how long it would take to finish such a large piece.
Too lost in thought, you started to reach your hand out to the window but you’re once again surprised when you felt a strong grip around your wrist.
You were about to apologize but instead freeze up when you felt him step closer behind you. You tried to step forward to get some distance since you’re starting to get flustered at our position but realized that you don’t have much space to move in since you’re very close to the window.
“I’m sorry but those were just cleaned by the careful hands of our cleaners hands off please.” He whispered in your ear.
You shuddered at his closeness and the sensation of him speaking carefully so close to your ear. “I-I understand.” You stuttered while unconsciously leaning into his ‘embrace’.
He seems to have lost himself also since he buried his nose in your hair while his other hand rubbed your free arm.
You two stayed like that for who knows how long just basking in each other’s contact. “Why not transfer here, I can tell how ‘generous’ the headmaster is in your current school.”
“I can’t” you managed to mumble out after almost melting at the close soud of his voice yet again.
“You’re surrounding yourself with magic that is as deadly as fire.”
You leaned closer “Fire can be useful too.” You whispered
You felt his sigh in your ear and your knees almost gave up but he held you up when he sensed you were about to fall.
“Consider it.” He kissed behind your ear “Be mine or you will burn.
He carefully let you go after making sure you won’t collapse to your knees before walking put and leaving you under colorful light.
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#rollo flamme x reader#rollo flamm#twst rollo#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#rollo flamme
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