#Chanyeøl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

synthetickitsune · 1 year ago

Text

In The Dark ✧ z.yx, b.bh & p.cy

Pairing: Alien X-EXO (Lay, Baekhyun & Chanyeol) x human!(gn)reader Genre: angst-ish comfort-ish something Summary: Their toy is broken and needs to be repaired. But it's no fun to wait, if only there was a way to skip that part... Word count: 4.8k Warnings: mentions of violence and being held against your will, the reader is unconscious the entire time A/N: idk what this is except a sketch of something without much plot lol and entirely @an-annyeoing-writer's fault

“Oh look - it’s sleeping!” The words fall on deaf ears as his companion pays him no mind, immersed in his game, and you’re not in the state to hear him, lying unconscious on the cold floor that further chills your exhausted body. The white-haired man-shaped creature squats down and runs his hand over your bare arm littered with marks of their fingers. He tsks at how cold you are and turns to his companion, still playing on his device and ignoring him and you both. “You went too far. Look how beat up the toy is!”

While you remain oblivious to the world around you, the whining gets the pink-haired man’s attention and he sets his device aside, walking over and nudging your form with his foot. You’re like a ragdoll, not resisting at all. He frowns. He already knows that if you were just sleeping, you might whine or make some other cute new noise, but now - nothing. He swallows uneasily. It’s quite surprising how naturally their feelings translate into the behavior of the human shapes they’ve taken on. “We just played around a little. Kāi says it likes that.”

“I don’t think what you’re doing would be considered playing among them. I think you’re just hunting it for fun,” while Baëkhyun says that, there’s no judgment in his voice and if Chanyeøl wasn’t so set on defending himself, he’d have noticed the small smirk on the other’s face.

“The toy like it,” he grumbles, rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest at the smirk growing on his friend’s face, “No, really, it was screaming and all.”

“Humans scream for other reasons too. Like when they’re scared,” Baëkhyun taunts him because it’s so easy.

“I’m telling you it’s not like that!” the taller insists, his foot stomping on the ground right next to your body. Yet you don’t even flinch and they both share an uneasy look. He gets down next to his friend and shakes your limp body. Still nothing. The next time he speaks it’s softer. “It likes it.”

“I’m sure it does,” he keeps up the tone, even if it sounds fake. He knows what Chanyeøl’s talking about.

“No, Baëkhyun, I mean it,” he growls this time, the other is not surprised though, “Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me you can't smell its excitement when you chase it.”

He knows he can’t. Memories swell up in his mind, too tempting not to indulge. The scent of you spiking with something sweet when you catch him stalking after you. The yelp you let out when he suddenly throws you onto the closest surface mellowed out into a gasp that doesn’t sound entirely scared to his trained ears.

There’s a distant noise he can ignore without trying.

You used to claw at him with nothing but pure terror in your efforts to survive but nowadays it’s like you’re trying to push his buttons. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy showing you your efforts didn’t leave your trace before promptly reminding you why you are the one kept by them.

“And don't try to tell me that that's not why you keep pushing it around just like me,” Chanyeøl finally shoves him with a victorious grin on his face as he watches his friend finally snap out of his daydreams.

Baëkhyun huffs, but his lips are turned upwards in a cruel smirk.

“Well after I'm done with our toy, I make sure it’s ready for the rest of you to play with,” he challenges, "Didn't Suhø talk to you about this like two hours ago?"

It's simply impossible to resist the feeling of satisfaction upon seeing the worried frown on Chanyeøl’s face. The man in question licks his lips as he nudges your body again.

"Don't tell him," he sighs, almost pleading, "It made me do it, really. It was asking for it."

Baëkhyun would love to keep bickering but this was a fact he couldn’t disprove. He knew how you could get. Knew you had the tendency to provoke them - on purpose or on accident, he wasn’t sure yet but the outcome is the same anyway.

“What’s going-” they're joined by a third person who stops in his tracks as soon as he sees your lifeless body on the floor, being pushed and poked by the two of them, “-on…”

He can only sigh. There are only pointless questions to ask, which therefore he won’t, and a favor to do. It’s getting tiring to count how many times he came to a scene like this.

Baëkhyun tilts his head. “I didn’t call you here.”

“I did,” Chanyeøl says somewhat sheepishly. What was he supposed to do once he realized you’re really not getting up? It all dropped - your pulse, your breathing slowed down. You did not react to his orders, threats, nor violence. You’d probably be fine even without the intervention but after the conversation with Suhø… yeah, he wouldn’t take any chances.

“So what did you do?” Yixïng sighs as he sits down and puts his hand over your cheek. Reading your vitals, it doesn’t seem too bad, but your body is exhausted and overwhelmed. The demand for regeneration is so high in all its parts that it simply shut down and is trying to heal everything at once. It needs help. You need help. And what he wouldn’t do for his favorite toy.

“Nothing,” Chanyeøl grumbles, “You can fix it, right?”

Yixïng hums in agreement, then turns to Baëkhyun. “You don’t have anything to do with this?”

“Why are saying that like it’d change things,” he complains, looking away in disbelief.

“No one brings them to me in more puzzling conditions than you,” Yixïng deadpans and runs his hand from your cheek down your neck and over your shoulder to your arm. He keeps his touch light; there’s no need to cause you pain if you won’t feel it.

“What’s that sup- Hey!”

He may be able to heal you, but there’s more to it than the act of having your cells repair themselves. Your current situation is not ideal for regeneration, and he’s used to his own ways of dealing with you. And there are benefits to having you content. He ponders them as he drags your body closer to his and into his lap.

They’re some noises of protest coming from the other two that he tunes out, instead focusing on maneuvering you into a position he’s seen you curl up to him before. You’re cold, too cold, and while he’s no expert on humans, he knows it’s not a healthy temperature - probably life threatening. It’s an interesting sensation, however. This cold to touch and with your body all tensed up that it feels hardened he could almost imagine you’re one of his kind. He decides that he prefers you a little warmer and softer.

Only once you’re resting comfortably, or at least he supposes the position would be comfortable if you were awake to appreciate it, does he pay any attention to the two who are still going on about something. He keeps his expression neutral in the face of them glaring at him like he's doing them some mortal offense. It’d be a lie to say he’s not amused though.

“I should be the one to-”

“No.”

And it’s all he has to say for Chanyeøl to shut up and look like he’s ready to burn up. Literally. Which only proves that he’s in the right. You’ve proven quite weak to just about everything - fire very much included.

“I’m the warmest out of us,” the fuming one argues, and while that is true…

“Yes, but I’m the one they trust and I’d prefer them not to panic after they wake up - if they wake up straight away.”

“It’s afraid of you too,” the words sound like a threat coming out of Baëkhyun’s mouth, “Just the same as the rest of us.”

“They are,” Yixïng shrugs, catching the other two off guard, which makes him continue with one corner of his lips curled upwards, “But after I finish with them, I leave them in pristine condition. I guess they know how to be grateful.”

That shuts them up pretty effectively.

They stare at him silently for a while, although it looks like both have a lot to say. He has more important matters to tend to than their bruised egos though, so since they stay quiet for the time being, he turns his attention back to you. He strokes your bruised arm slowly while he assesses the damage from your head to toe. There's a trickle of blood at the corner of your lips that he doesn't hesitate to wipe down with his thumb and suck into his mouth. Before he can even finish savoring the taste on his tongue, he has to shield your eyes with his hand from the sudden blinding brightness of the room. It almost seems like a natural consequence at this point. The low growling and rising heat too. He's not usually one to take pleasure in petty conflicts, but he can't help it as the iron-y sweetness coats his taste buds.

"You’ve had them all to yourselves this whole time, it's not my fault you didn't do anything," he licks his lips just to rub it in. He doesn't get to taste you too often - he'll wait until you offer. He knows you will, eventually, he's seen you with all of them. They all know even if you don't - even if you perhaps just don't want to admit it to yourself: you were created for this life.

"Pass it here already," Chanyeøl waves his hand towards himself, "I'll make sure it's warm and not a drop is wasted."

"Wait for your turn, this is your fault anyway," Baëkhyun says and when he sees Chanyeøl's about to protest: "Shut up and be glad no one's snitching on you to Suhø."

Yixïng is watching them from the corner of his eye just to be sure he's not gonna have another body to fix. The blood brought his attention to a hidden issue however, and he's glad the two are distracted enough to let him work. He slips his hand under your shirt and gently presses on your stomach. He's glad you can't feel it as he makes note of the damage and bruising. It's a good place to start. He guides your body to focus its efforts there, helping things move forward with his own powers. There's something satisfying about the threads of your tissue reconnecting, strengthening themselves back from the frayed mess they were, your cells getting nice and plump again.

"Just let me touch it."

He's about to deny the request, but it's not demanding and when he looks up, Chanyeøl seems unsettlingly determined and patient. The room is the right temperature again too. He quirks a brow at him and Baëkhyun snickers, not for long though.

"I won't try anything," the pink-haired man continues and Yixïng knows he's not stupid enough to lie to him. So even if he's not sure about his intentions, he nods for him to go for it.

"Hey, that's not fair," Baëkhyun doesn't take too long to complain as Chanyeøl sits closer to Yixïng and strokes your cheek with his thumb. He near enough whines when he receives a sharp glare as he also scoots closer. "I just wanna pet it too."

"You know you're just getting in the way, don't you?"

There's exasperation in his voice but fondness too, with which the two are familiar enough to know Yixïng won't mind them. At least as long as they only hinder him but don't actively add more to his plate.

Chanyeøl slaps Baëkhyun’s hand away when he tries to touch you. He ignores the threatening rumble meant for him as moves some hair away from your face and checks the side of your skull. He knows you hit it pretty hard when you fell. The bump there isn't as big as he'd expect and he's impressed. You take it so well. Under the layers of pathetic human weakness, there might be a tough core. There’s a steady progress, he feels, in how much you can handle and he’s proud. So proud that they’ve chosen you.

His feelings translate into a faint warmth surrounding you. It’s gentle enough that Yixïng allows it and Chanyeøl is happy that he can help. It’d be a shame to lose such a precious toy. Though he does wonder if you know flames are not the final extent of his powers. He wants you to know he’s stronger than that. He will show when you’re strong enough to entertain him again.

He keeps stroking your hair carefully, aware of the spots that might be sore and where wounds are hiding. His fingers brush against a cut on the side of your head. The trickle of blood that broke through the skin there is dried already and mats into your hair. Nothing too serious. It can wait until you wake up, you always whimper and shiver so nicely when he pulls on your hair…

“No,” Baëkhyun corrects him before the healer can.

"Not right now," Chanyeøl agrees with a roll of his eyes, "But it likes it."

"Do you think so because it follows your hand when you drag it by the hair? Because I might have some news for you," just as Baëkhyun finishes the sentence he's pushed aside again. Fed up, or maybe just playful, he moves to retaliate, stopped just short of his palm colliding with Chanyeøl's shoulder by Yixïng clearing his throat.

"I will kick you both out," he warns and it's enough for them to settle. He's finally satisfied with the condition of your tummy, although while healing the underlying problem he also erased the bruise that covered most of your skin there. But that's nothing that can't be easily fixed. He allows himself a moment longer to rub circles over your soft stomach before sliding his hand out of your shirt - and this time Baëkhyun at least notices, Chanyeøl being too busy sulking still. Fortunately he only quirks a brow before snaking his own hand under to trace his fingers over your ribcage.

Thinking back over the time they own you, it's probably the first time he's touching you without you flinching away. You're not trembling, you're not just taking it. It has its own appeal that makes some complicated feelings rise up inside him. He'd rather ignore them. If the circumstances were different, he could press with his fingers just right against the bones and let them crack. That would be a nice distraction. But like this, with your lungs expanding with each breath you take in, it's almost like you're seeking out his touch. He doesn’t want to break your bones and break the peace too. He doesn’t want you to pull away with each exhale. You’re nothing but a tired little animal seeking comfort and protection, asking for it from a much stronger creature. Completely at his mercy.

Of course your respective positions can't be compared. Not at all - the notion alone is ridiculous. And yet, in a way, Baëkhyun feels similarly vulnerable. He might not be lying completely defenseless at the mercy of an alien race, but the source of his distress is his own head and that is, after all, always the most dangerous enemy. And you. Although he trusts the other two with his life, he wants to take you away, run somewhere where he'll be able to face the emotions alone. He knows it all - the feeling of your skin breaking and splitting, revealing the flesh, bones cracking, and he knows the sting of your teeth and nails. He's tasted your blood and tears. And yet he's only now getting to know the texture of your skin, appreciating how different it is from his own. He wishes he came in earlier when your body radiated the gentle heat.

You. The one they prey on. The one to start it all. You shouldn’t have any amount of power to influence a single thought in his head. Oh, how he wishes he could drag you away, wake you up and use you like he wants to find the answers he needs or to distract himself for long enough to forget.

His reverie is soon broken by Chanyeøl’s panicked voice. There’s a finger pointing at him. When he snaps out of it and sees Yixïng’s hand on your knees, Baëkhyun can only give a proud smile that turns sheepish under the dark gaze. It’s not his fault that your knees look much better colored purple. Not his fault it’s so easy to force you down to kneel. You get so obedient with his hand tangled in your hair, you let him loll your head as he wishes. So submissive and pliant. It must be that you belong on your knees for him.

“It’s not broken,” he shrugs, “It walked just fine. Bet it ran as always too.” He gives Chanyeøl, who only turns away and clears his throat, a questioning look.

“It must’ve hurt,” Yixïng mutters under his breath. It doesn’t escape their attention that his touch is careful, only light caresses that make the bruises fade and eventually disappear. They exchange a glance and turn to the man slowly working his way all over your legs.

His touch erases bruises, mends muscle fibers together, eases joint pain. All because you deserve it. He can only imagine how scary it’ll be when you wake up, likely without much recollection of what happened before you lost consciousness. Disoriented and held captive. If you do remember, he doesn’t doubt it’s gonna be flashes of pain and fear. And then you are sure to discover there are no marks left, no pain anymore, and you’ll remember him. You’ll come to him, willingly, and he’ll get his turn.

“So what?” Baëkhyun says roughly, but there’s a slight hesitation that ends up making it sound like a genuine question. Chanyeøl only watches with an uneasy feeling in his stomach as the bruises and whatever they were hiding underneath disappear and your breathing gets less and less labored and your skin starts getting back its healthy color. As much as he thrives on seeing you ruined and too weak to stand up, this… this isn’t bad. That he knows definitely. But he can’t delve deeper into his feelings. Not even as your body returns to a healthy temperature that feels only a little cool under his own overheated fingertips.

“Nothing,” Yixïng says simply, a small smile playing on his lips, “Just saying.”

He’s done with your legs and arms, your skin once again a canvas to paint. Only your nails he’ll keep as they are. You couldn’t hurt them if you tried, but why give you false hope. But as he moves to wrap his hand around your neck, there are again growls of protest. He looks up and truly, it’s almost comical how angry the duo looks. “What?”

“Leave them,” they say in unison. He can only huff.

“Not all of them are yours, so what do you care?” his fingers trace the outline of your windpipe as he speaks, calmly and patiently.

“The toy has to remember it’s ours,” Chanyeøl’s voice is a deep rumble. Yet you don’t seem to grow fearful. It feels empty. No one but you will be intimidated by it.

Yixïng looks around the room. It’s a place he calls home. He doubts you’d consider it with the same warm feeling or more than a holding cell, however. “I don’t think they will forget.”

Baëkhyun scoffs. “You take good care of it.”

“I have my reasons,” he shrugs, disregarding their glaring and Chanyeøl’s cursing as he heals the bruises on your neck without putting it off further, moving on to the bumps and cuts on your scalp and face.

“They really trust you,” Baëkhyun whispers and even to his ears it sounds hollow. Yixïng only nods.

“You’d be surprised what a difference it makes,” speaking as he aids your recovery, he smiles at the two, “I don’t think we’d have to train them very hard under different circumstances.”

“Huh?” again they speak at the same time, both bewildered by the revelation, although…

“I told you,” Chanyeol grumbles and gives a sharp look to Baëkhyun, “That it likes that.”

He only shakes his head but there’s a maelstrom of emotions inside his chest. Of course he fucking knows you like their games. You like to let them toy with you. Your body betrays you and tells them more than you wish to.

So why?

So why do you keep hiding without hoping to be found?

So why do you only ever search for Yixïng if he’s so soft on you?

If you take pleasure in something, you should embrace it - that’s always been Baëkhyun’s stance on things. You clearly enjoy your life here, even if they - admittedly - don’t make it easy for you. Perhaps precisely because of that. So why do you resist your desire?

“It’s time to get them to bed,” Yixïng continues as if he didn’t give his friends more to think about than they could process. He strokes your cheek, finally a healthy shade again, and admires his handiwork. You look just as you did the day they found you - if not better.

“Why isn’t it waking up then?” Baëkhyun mumbles. He would like to see the expression on your face upon waking up, surrounded by the three of them. He wonders what you’d do. Yixïng wouldn’t let them mess up what he fixed straight away. Perhaps it could be an opportunity to try a new approach.

“Because they’re so weak,” he coos at your unconscious form, “That even after being fully healed their body still needs rest.”

“I’ll carry them,” Chanyeøl announces eagerly and without hesitation. Upon seeing Yixïng’s doubtful expression, matched by Baëkhyun, he rolls his eyes. He couldn’t explain it if they asked - the closest to an explanation he has is that he wants to surprise you. Just like when you’re running from him and he chases you straight into a dead end and when you turn, he’s already behind you. The fear radiating off you then, however, is never as strong as when you look behind you as you’re running away from him and he’s not there.

And because he doesn’t have the words he needs, he just takes you from Yixïng, lifting you up easily and bouncing you in his arms into a more secure position. Baëkhyun is up just as fast and checks you over for any new marks. He gives him a warning look when he doesn’t find any.

“What are you gonna do with them?” Yixïng asks as he stands up, a slight frown on his face. This does ruin his plans a little.

“I’ll just take it to its bed,” he whines, “I know the rules, okay?”

“Tell that to Suhø,” Baëkhyun coughs, unbothered by the jab he receives in response. While they bicker, Yixïng sighs. Maybe it’s for the best. If at least one of them discovers just as he did that there are advantages to gaining your trust, he will get to focus on developing his powers instead of practicing basic healing again. He can tell that Chanyeøl means what he says, and if there’s something that he’s hiding in his intentions, Yixïng knows better than to pry right now.

“Fine, but if I find a single scratch on them…” he warns half-heartedly.

“It can hurt itself on anything,” the taller man whines, but ultimately he can only promise to be careful if he wants to keep you. Baëkhyun follows him as he carries you in the direction of your room. They stay silent, each thinking similar thoughts, well aware of the fact. Chanyeøl doesn’t need to ask, and for once he doesn’t stop Baëkhyun when he runs a hand up your leg and hums at your warmth and the smoothness of your skin.

“It feels different, right?” Chanyeøl sighs, experimentally rubbing his cheek against your head laid on his shoulder. Did you ever not expect him to hurt you, even if he approached you with innocent intentions? He doesn’t think so. It’s soothing, he finds, when he touches you and you don’t instantly begin to shake.

“It’s gonna go back to how it always is when it wakes up,” he sighs in response. There’s nothing that can be done, honestly he doesn’t want things to change. You should know your place, and that’s beneath him. But he also wants all of you. They all do. And they’re not going to get it if you always remain terrified of them.

“Hey, Baëkhyun,” Chanyeøl calls his name and there’s a cheeky smile on his face, “Wanna make it freak out when it wakes up?”

He doesn’t need explanation.

“It’s like you can read my mind,” Baëkhyun smirks, stepping right behind his friend as they reach your room.

He throws himself on your bed without any worry and entertains himself by watching Chanyeøl struggle to put you down gently. It’s a new idea. He’s sure he could do a better job of it, especially as your body bounces off the bed as the tall man loses patience.

He pulls you closer to himself, barely stopping himself from grabbing you with enough strength to bruise your skin. It’s… strange. It makes him realize how little strength he needs to hurt you and he has to stop himself from cooing aloud. Running his fingers over your spotless throat, though, he does miss the collar of marks. Chanyeøl seems to share the sentiment, grumbling when he sees the clean expanse of your neck.

They take a while to simply appreciate the almost forgotten look of you unharmed, healed to perfection. Who else would care for you as much and as well as they do? Your skin seems to be glowing, your hair is shiny and strong. They know your eyes will sparkle when you open them.

“There’s a lot of mats in its hair,” Chanyeøl mentions as if only now remembering again, “The blood dried there, it’s a mess.”

“Let’s wait until our toy wakes up,” Baëkhyun meets his eyes, “It’s a waste to do it now.”

“It’ll hurt,” he smirks at the white-haired man and quirks a brow. He, of course, thought about it too, but the encounter with Yixïng made him want to reconsider. It remains a tempting thought still.

“Not much,” the other man smirks, “And we won’t be hurting it, right?”

Chanyeol licks his lips. Who is he kidding, it’s what he wanted to do all along. Although he didn’t plan to share the experience, it’s true it might be more fun. He can only imagine how you’ll writhe in fear between them, only able to escape from the touch of one into the arms of the other. If he could wake you right now, he would.

You’re like this because of him… He’s not the patient kind, but this time he’s more frustrated with himself rather than the need to wait. A broken toy is no fun while it’s being repaired. He lies down fully and puts his arm around your waist. Baëkhyun regards him with a curious look.

“It’s boring without something to play with,” he comments, huffing, moving his face to the crook of your neck. And still you lay limp, completely relaxed. It makes him hesitate. You’re so soft. So easily damaged. He imagines you’re awake, lying like this. Allowing him to get so close without fear. There’s a rush in a hunt - but there’s comfort in this. As much as he looks forward to when you come to and see the position you’re in, he also considers what you’d do if you didn’t fear him as much. Would you move closer to him? Would you touch him first, unprompted?

“We should take care of our toy,” his friend joins him, mirroring his position nearly perfectly. He can’t wait for you to wake up either. It’s been a while since he had his turn with you, but even if he has to share, Baekhyun doesn’t mind. He wants to try something new. He wonders who you’ll try to use for protection. Who you’re going to turn to, hesitant and afraid, considering your chances, and who’ll get to mock you a little for it. If it’s him, then maybe, just maybe, you could strike a deal - if his good mood lasts, that is. But watching you rest so peacefully in their arms, he thinks it will.

#exo reactions #exo scenarios #exo fics #exo x reader #exo imagines #x-exo scenarios #lay x reader #baekhyun x reader #chanyeol x reader

54 notes · View notes