#HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE (quivering with fear)

[ritsmaos]

doodles of these peculiar things based off that one episode :3

[lovebugism]

hi! not sure if you’re still taking requests but if u are may i request the prompt “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” with reader comforting steve? tysm <3

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Steve tends to feel things really, really deeply.

When Nancy called him bullshit at a Halloween party and ran off with the weird kid from chemistry class a day later, he felt like it was the end of the world. His world, at least. 

He thought it was going to stick with him for the rest of his life — that she was right, that he really was bullshit, and that that truth would haunt him forever. It did. It does. It lurks over his shoulder sometimes, like a shadow or a sleeping dragon.

And when Robin’s mad at him, like mad mad, it makes him feel like dying. 

One time he overestimated how tired he was after a shift and forgot to pick Robin up after band practice. He was startled awake from his nap out of nowhere, like his brain knew he’d done something wrong, and realized he was supposed to drive her home over an hour ago. 

He found her standing with her trumpet case under the awning in a futile attempt to hide from the pouring rain. She didn’t talk to him for days — not during the drive, not at work the next day, not until he was milliseconds from groveling at her feet for her forgiveness.

But it’s different when he’s happy. He’s got you and he’s got Dustin, and he loves the two of you so much it feels like he might burst sometimes. Adoration spills from his pores like so many little rays of sunshine, leaves him a grinning and gushing thing in the place of a teenage boy. 

It’s so much worse with you, though. Because sometimes he feels like his heart beats only for you — that it follows the rhythm of your pulse, that it will stop when yours does. 

He can taste every word that spills from your mouth, the one’s coated in venom and honey alike. He can hear every sound of your soul, too. It’s the crackles of an old record player when you’re content, autumn leaves crunching when you’re angry, and the sounds of a deep, deep ocean when you’re sad.

You’re embedded into every fiber of his being. You’ve entwined yourself with him without even realizing it, tucked yourself into the outer regions of his bleeding heart with a fuzzy blanket and a good book — no sign of leaving any time soon.

He loves you hard, too hard. So hard there’s no breath without you.

So when Vecna almost kills you, it feels a little like his life is ending.

He watches you float in midair, his feet still stuck on the ground, totally helpless. 

Tears spill from your glazed-over eyes and glitter beneath streams of moonlight. Your body is slack, but your fingers tremble and your brows twitch and your chin quivers. You’re not all there, but you can feel every ounce of fear like an ice-cold bath, painful and numbing all at once. Because you know that you’re going to die. And that there’s nothing anyone else can do to stop it.

Dustin shouts for help into his supercomm, begs for Max to bring her walkman or steal the nearest boombox they see and bring it with them to Lover’s Lake. They’re too far away, though, on the other side of town in Nancy’s too slow Station Wagon picking up more hunting supplies to kill the son of a bitch trying to kill you. He knows they won’t make it in time.

Steve shakes your shoulders and shouts in your face, but you still don’t wake. He keeps a hold of you until you’re out of his reach entirely — rising and rising and rising until you’re six feet off the ground. Then he’s just begging, shouting pleas up at you, at god, at Vecna — the shriveled skin creep doing this to you. 

“Please,” he shouts to everyone and no one all at once. “Please, just— you gotta wake up, okay? I’ll be better, I’ll be so much better, I promise. I’ll listen to all the music you like, watch all the movies you want — even the ones that suck — I’ll be a better boyfriend, okay? You just— You need to wake up!”

You don’t. 

You just keep on crying, like you can hear him in whatever world Vecna’s sucked you into. Eyes fluttering, neck jerking, lips trembling. You succumb completely to the monster’s curse.

It’s Eddie that saves you.

He rushes to the stolen R.V. for his guitar, the one Steve said made him look like he was overcompensating for something, the one that’s about to save your life. “What’s her favorite song?” the boy urges as he slips the strap over his head with pale and trembling fingers.

Steve looks over at his shoulder at him. It’s hard to see through the stinging tears. “Wh— What—” He can’t form words. Or thoughts, really. The only thing going through his head is that you’re about to die, that he’s about to lose you forever. It clouds his mind like thick black smoke.

“Her favorite song?” Eddie snaps. “What is it?”

He scrambles to answer. “Uh, it’s uh— it’s Take— Take On Me… Do you know that one?”

“No,” the boy answers honestly. “But I can try.”

That’s all they can do for now. Try. Hope.

He puts his fingers to the strings, trying to find the right placements, but it’s hard when you don’t know how to play the song and you’re shaking that you’re fucking freezing. Eddie’s forced to play it by ear and tells Steve that it won’t sound exactly right and that it won’t be loud without his amp. 

It takes him a moment to find the melody, but Steve hears it the second it comes — the synth-y da-da-da-dum, da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dum’s that were practically engrained in his psyche after he heard it on the radio the millionth time.

You weren’t as afflicted by the earworm as he was. You loved it. 

The song came out the year the two of you started dating, so all he heard for months was that catchy beat and even catchier falsetto. You played it on the jukebox when you went to the diner, popped the tape into your radio whenever he was over at your place, requested for it to be played virtually wherever you went.

You hear the song from where you’re stuck in your own head. The strums of the guitar are quiet and a little out of tune, but the uncanny notes make sense when you’re trapped in a world that isn’t really your world. Suddenly you don’t see Vecna or his claw in your face — just Steve, Steve, Steve.

He’s with you at the diner with whipped cream on his chin, making fun of you for singing to the song so off-key. He’s with you in your childhood bedroom, spinning you around and singing all the high notes with you. He’s with you at Enzo’s, the fanciest place in Hawkins for your anniversary, and slips the mini-orchestra a hundred-dollar bill to play the song for you.

Suddenly, you’re on the ground again — back in Hawkins — and gasping for breath in his arms. You can’t see him from where he’s got his face tucked into your neck, but you can feel the scarily rapid beat of his heart and the way it matches your own.

Steve sobs into you, uncaring about how loud he is or how his snot and tears stain your t-shirt. Because he almost fucking lost you. And, for a split second, he tried to think of what a life without you would look like. He quickly came up short. There was nothing — no light, no sound, no music — just darkness. A void. 

Sometimes, he thinks he would’ve died with you that night.

Vecna is dead within the next twenty-four hours after the fact. You and Nancy take turns shooting bullets in the pale patchy skin of his chest where his heart’s supposed to be while Steve and Robin throw hand-made bombs in his direction. He trips and stumbles out the window while the rotting basement erupts into flames. There’s nothing left but ashes.

Steve doesn’t feel a thing for a little while after that, just the acute urge to protect the group of you even though the boogeyman is long gone. 

He doesn’t let go of you for days, always holding onto some part of you, because he’s terrified of you slipping away again. 

He lets Dustin sleep at his place when the boy asks, but it’s for his own peace of mind more than anything else. He doesn’t let the boy out of his sight until his mom gets concerned about him. 

He drives forty-five minutes to the hospital every day for two weeks with you so you can visit Max and Lucas, always with two peanut butter jelly sandwiches for them — just in case.

He’s on auto-pilot for a while. He just keeps on taking care of everyone else because it distracts him from himself — from his own inner turmoil, from the horrors he saw that night, from the boogeyman still in his closet.

It takes you a month for you to tell him what you saw. You were a lot like him in that way, still trying to hide from it all. You would’ve been more than happy if you could squish your great big problem into a tiny little ball that you could stomp underneath your feet and forget about completely. 

But that’s not how life works. 

The thing just swells and swells and swells until it takes everything in you to stay sane.

You sit Steve down on his bed and curl into his lap — knees to your chest, head tucked beneath his chin. And you tell him about it. Everything.

You tell him that Vecna showed you Brad, the boyfriend you had before Steve. It was a replay of the last night you saw him parked at Lover’s Lake, the very same place you had been when Vecna almost took you. You’re sitting in his passenger seat and he’s trying to feel you up. “Billy’s girlfriend lets him fuck her all the time,” he gripes when you swat his hand from your thigh.

“Then maybe go fuck Billy’s girlfriend,” you shoot back. 

It’s the last thing you’d ever said to him before storming off and catching the late bus back home. He went missing the next day; his car still there, but no sign of the boy himself.

Vecna shows you everything you’d been making yourself sick over for years, tells you exactly what happened to him that night.

A demogorgon appears in thin air and snatches the boy, takes him to the Upside Down like he’s some kind of light night snack. The thing doesn’t eat him, though, just plays with its food for a while until it gets bored and lets him rot. Brad was down there, for days, beggingfor someone to save him. Help never came, though. Just the slow, slow hand of death. 

“You never even looked for him…” you recite the words Vecna said to you, voice much softer than his cruel baritone one. “You let him rot down there while you threw yourself at a boy that didn’t even want you…”

Steve eyes squeeze shut then, like he’s trying to hide from your words. It’s about as effective as those idiots in horror movies who try to hide under their bedsheets from demons.

You sought refuge in Steve that night and many others, when Brad was acting especially douchebag-y. It was innocent at first. He was your friend. But somewhere down the line, you realized that you had bigger feelings for him than you ever did for your boyfriend. Steve, meanwhile, was still caught in the web of his complicated feelings for Nancy.

It wasn’t until you got kidnapped by Russian soldiers that he realized how much he loved you.

There’s just something about the end of the world that makes a person see clearly again.

Everything seems to hit him exactly a week later. 

He’d done a pretty good job at hiding it all — the nightmares, the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. He hid that all from you because you were recovering too. He didn’t think it was fair to dump all his hurt on you while you were still trying to get back to normal.

You noticed it very quickly, though, that Steve didn’t seem to be very affected by any of it. 

He was so nonchalant about everything, the kind of casual only a person who was aching could pull off. 

And he’d get real reserved at times, uncharacteristically quiet, and you’d ask him if he was okay. He’d scoffed and say he was fine —of course I’m okay, what do you mean? — while his cheek speckled with red and he blinked back glassy tears. 

You’d try to hug him and he’d let you, but kept shrugging off your concern — I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m not the one who almost died.

Steve did that a lot. Made it seem like his problems didn’t mean as much because they weren’t as big as yours or Max’s or Eddie’s. He convinced himself that they didn’t. Why should he be upset when he didn’t have to meet the monster face to face or live through something traumatic all over again? What does he have to cry about?

But when he sleeps all he sees in you — in that spot at Lover’s Lake, succumbing to Vecna’s curse, while the rest of them try like hell to bring you back. In his nightmares, they never do. He watches your bones break one by one, piercing cracks in the quiet night that he can feel in his chest, before you fall limply to the ground again.

He wakes with a gasping breath, the same way you had all the time ago. You’re sleeping peacefully beside him, hair wild and face smushed into your pillow, but he can’t seem to get the vision out of his head — of your mangled body and sucked-out sockets. He stumbles off to the bathroom on tired and trembling legs.

You wake to the door slamming shut and stir at the sound of the faucet turning on. 

Light spills from the crack underneath the door, bright in the darkness of your bedroom. You watch Steve’s shadow with bleary eyes, how it stands in one place for a moment and then paces back and forth.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, but don’t do anything when you reach it. You just wait, listen. 

Steve mumbles something to himself that you can’t quite make out — you’re okay, stop being such a baby, jesus… is all you can hear. He sniffles as his feet pad the length of the tiled bathroom floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s crying.

Your knock upon the door is a soft one. You don’t want to startle him. The second he realizes you’re outside the door, he freezes.

“Stevie…” you call gently out for him. “Are you okay?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah—” Then again. “Yeah, I’m fine… Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” you press. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

The boy has to take a deep breath in to stop himself from snapping at you. He’s angry at himself more than anything — for hiding, for failing at hiding. He runs two anxious hands through his hair and plants himself along the ceramic edge of the bathtub. 

“I’m sure. Just… Just go back to bed, okay?”

You don’t listen. You just slide along the door frame until you’re sat on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Steve can hear your shuffling outside.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay. You know that, right?” you ask him through the door.

Steve puts his face in his hands before he can catch his scrunching face in the mirror. Just when he thought he wasn’t going to cry, here you come, pulling this shit. 

“I know,” he answers tightly, muffled through his palms. He rubs them up and down his face once, twice, and then a third time before throwing his hands into his lap. “But I’m fine, okay? Seriously.”

“You can cry in front of me, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to go through this shit alone, you know? I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Let me help you.”

It’s that reminder that does him in; the assurance that you’re here and not a disfigured mess in the tall grass of Lover’s Lake. A sob spills from his mouth too abruptly for him to stop it.

“Steve…” you call for him again, heartbreaking on the other side of the door.

“I’m almost lost you,” he cries, more than himself than to you, then sniffles. “I’m almost fucking lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere, Steve Harrington. The universe is gonna have to try a whole lot harder to keep me away from you.”

He manages a laugh through his tears. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you quip. “If Vecna couldn’t stop me from being with you, nothing will.”

The thought of that warms him. He realizes it’s not the universe keeping the two of you together, not fate or some higher power in the clouds. It’s love. It’s all the love the two of you have got for each other, stronger than any demogorgon or Russian soldier or dark wizard. And it’s love that’s gonna hold the two of you together for the next several decades, until you’re old and wrinkly and ugly. 

But Steve won’t think you’re ugly. He’ll think you’re as beautiful as the first moment he saw you — throwing up in the bushes outside Tina’s house after your first high school party.

You rise quickly when the door opens. Steve stands in front of you, eyes puffy and face red and smiling gently down at you anyway. “I love the shit outta you, you know that?” is all he can think to say. Because that’s all that he feels in that moment.

“Of course, I know that,” you grin up at him. Your hands rise to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. Your browns pinch in concern. “You okay?”

For the first time, he’s honest.

“No…” he murmurs with the soft shake of his head. His eyes dart away from yours and to the floor where his and your twenty toes stand, still on the ground, not floating in thin air.

“No— I… I don’t think I am,” he confesses softly. His tired, sad, and heavy honey eyes flit back up to yours again. “But I will be.”

You nod until your words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

“If only out of pure spite of all the monsters to all the monsters trying to destroy our lives.”

“They’re gone now,” you promise, like a parent who’s checked under their child’s bed for shadows and ghosts. It works well enough. Here, with his face in your hands and standing in your shared bedroom, he’s never felt safer.

“Can you… Can you hold me?” he wonders, a little meekly because he feels like an idiot saying them. Then he feels even more like an idiot for feeling like an idiot. You’re his girlfriend, after all, cuddles sort of came with the package.

“Of course,” you answer without thinking twice. You grab his hand and tug him back to the bed almost immediately. “I’ll hold you for the rest of our fucking lives, Harrington, you know that.”

The two of you settle into the mattress. Steve uses you like a pillow, wraps all of his limbs around you and tucks his face into your neck. Your scent is a familiar one, warm and comforting, like home. “I like the sound of that,” he mumbles into your shoulder after a moment of quiet.

“Well, buckle in, baby. ‘Cause I got you for the next, like, six decades.”

You feel his smile form against your skin as Steve tucks himself inside your soul.

[sonniemon]

syudou feat.Hatsune Miku - Amazing Happy Halloween Night (English Translation + MV Analysis)

アメイジングハッピーハロウィンナイト/syudou

SONG LINK: https://youtu.be/CeqLqlr5ba4?si=9Yafq_kn4HAkn4LZ

Obsessed with the visuals and storytelling of this song, yasutatsu really outdid themselves and I love the character designs (not to mention the major amazing digital circus vibes hahah)

Anyways, I tried my hand at translating the song, I’ve also included the character profiles and my other rambling thoughts below

-

Song Translation

Before I knew it, I was standing in a world I didn’t recognise 

Without even knowing my location, day after, day after day after day I cried

There’s no time to lose

Happy Time! Funny faces are pulled

Happy Time! And jokes are made

Happy Time! Stuck in this absurdity 

Both hope and fear melt away

If I remember correctly 

There’s a job that I’m supposed to do

A loving home…

Pump…kin head….gear [1]

But for some reason I can’t find a reason to care

Come now, the night of dreams has begun

The cheerful music reverberates and doesn’t cease

Shout it with me now, today is—

An amazing happy halloween night!

Jack-o’-lanterns, pranks, anything goes, it's an all out party!

Even if you live earnestly it won’t amount to anything

Here anything is possible, why you ask?

Because today is an amazing happy halloween night!

It’s long gone! It’s long gone!

I already told you there’s no exit, and there won’t ever be one

It’s long gone! It’s long gone!

Ideologies, rules and morals have no bearing here

In this amazing happy halloween night!

“I am not a robot”

Is the box you click without a second thought, however…

Is that really the truth?

Happy Life! Oh well, just listen to the music

Happy Life! And dance in an erratic way

Happy Life! Trapped in these repeated movements

I lose my ability to even doubt it anymore 

Without a will of my own

I’m nothing more than a lobotomised electric sheep 

A nightmare NPC

But for some reason, like this, I feel at ease

(What the f%#k!?)

Oops, appears your voice has become distorted 

Worry not, everyone

I’ll sew their mouth right back up

Amazing happy halloween night!

Good children’s mouths are full of chocolate and candy

If you don’t speak your mind clearly then we won’t understand [2]

Now pull yourselves together everyone, and sing—

Amazing happy halloween night!

I found out! I found out!

I found out! I found out!

I found out! I found out!

I came to understand the truth to it all

And that’s exactly why I don’t wanna acknowledge any of it

Come now, the night of dreams has begun

The cheerful music reverberates and doesn’t cease

Shout it with me now, today is—

An amazing happy halloween night!

Jack-o’-lanterns, pranks, anything goes, it’s an all out party!

Even if you live earnestly it won’t amount to anything

Here anything is possible, why you ask?

Because today is an amazing happy halloween night!

I cried and cried! I cried and cried!

I must’ve tried real hard to kid myself huh?

I cried and cried! I cried and cried!

There will be no end to this party

Amazing happy halloween night!

[1] - Pumpkin in katakana starts with パン ‘Pan’ this is the protags name so this could be how they got it

[2] - 歯に衣着せぬ means to be outspoken however syudou has changed one of the kanji to ‘silk’ 歯に絹着せて so I think he’s going for some kind of pun about their teeth being made of silk? I’m not really sure

-

Character Profiles

Yasutatsu posted the character profiles on their twitter (link to post) so I’ll go over them here

A: Pan - Negative. Wants to go home asap.

B: Up - Found Pan when they were lost and helped guide them back. Mood maker.

C: Socket - Looks cute but they have a wicked tongue. They wear the food scrap on their head as a form of fashion

D: Iris - Can see the unseen. Has sharp ears.

E: Quiver - Will help you out if you’re in trouble. Dislikes being touched.

F: Easter - A highly cautious rabbit. Folds clothes beautifully.

G: Taurus - Strong on the outside but sensitive on the inside. Is often bothered by Socket’s abusive words.

H: Jolly - Elusive and always smiling. Loves jokes.

-

MV Analysis

The mv is packed with cool details so I’m just going to ramble about the whole thing here.

My interpretation of the song is that Pan was brought to the amazing happy halloween night world after putting on a VR headset. This is supported by the black bars on the top and bottom being slightly curved, resembling what it looks like when you’re playing a VR game. Also the lyric ‘pumpkin headgear’.

At the very start of the mv, you can see this text which kind of looks like a program boot screen.

What’s even more interesting about this background though is that it is the exact same rooms as seen in Bitter Choco Decoration. Why? I have no idea hahah.

Also!! A commenter pointed out that this exact background is seen in In the Back Room too, but with different coloured lights. In the backrooms mv this view is shown to be from a surveillance camera, so now I’m thinking that these rooms could each be for different experiments? And the protags from these three songs are in different ones.

After completing the captcha’s for syudou, Yasutatsu and Miku, Pan is brought into the world. And from the very start something is already amiss as the side of the screen is distorted and a little virus guy can be seen in the window. He can be spotted throughout the whole mv but is most prominent at the end.

Pan sits at a table and its set the same way as bitter choco, yes I know this is a common way to set a fancy table but after the previous bitter choco reference I think this one is also intentional hdhsj

Eyes can be seen in the sky. These are the same eyes on the jacket for the song itself and they very much resemble Jolly’s eyes, implying that he is watching over everything. At this point in the video he also appears explicitly to distract Pan from thinking too hard about who they really are. Hi dee ho!

The chorus hits and from what I understand NPC streams are definitely being referenced here lmao. The characters move in repetitive movements and the lyrics pop up as messages along the side, imitating the commands the viewers are giving. The falling gingerbread men and candy also resembles a donation system (like the one on twitcast for example)

Jolly and Pan are the only ones that don’t participate in the dance, and at this point it’s pretty easy to gather that Jolly is the one leading the show and isn’t like the rest of the characters.

Oh, that’s where Pan went. They were off trying to find an exit. But obviously there isn’t one.

Jolly makes Pan answer an “Are you a robot” captcha, oh sorry, I mean CABOCHA. Translator’s note: kabocha means pumpkin.

And this is where the real ‘plot’ of this world kicks in. It seems like they’re forced to complete captcha’s all day and Pan is desperately trying to prove that they’re human. Desperately trying to stay human. And well, by the end we see how that worked out.

Then we get this really cool sequence of Jolly trying to coax Pan into becoming an NPC. And I’m about 86% sure the line ‘I’m nothing more than a lobotomised electric sheep’ is a ‘Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’ reference but I haven’t actually read the book so can’t really say.

Pan doesn’t give in to the brainwashing just yet though and rips the pumpkin TV off their head, yelling “What the f#%k!?” A very digital circus moment.

Jolly breaks the fourth wall and acknowledges the swearing. Saying he’ll sew Pan’s mouth up. When this happens the captcha changes to “Select the images you wish to edit” and Jolly picks all the tiles with Pan’s mouth. Stitches appear over their mouth, completing the pumpkin look. These stitches stay throughout the next sequence too. It’s the details like this that make me love this MV so much.

Pan is back to completing captcha’s but they are noticeably struggling and taking longer to answer them. Until they ultimately start making mistakes on the last two.

“Select all images with elephants”

Pan is prompted to retry the captchas and tattered pieces of the other characters who we haven’t seen for a suspicious while start falling down the screen. “Shicchatta!” (I found out!) is repeated six times and this is entirely my own speculation here with no real basis, but shicchatta is very close to sounding like shinjatta (they died). Repeated six times for the six other characters who have mysteriously disappeared.

Pan learns the truth behind everything and falls to the ground, not wanting to accept it. They’re glitchy which I think implies they’ve transitioned into being more of a robot than human. Or that they’ve been infected by the virus. This same glitchy effect can be seen on Jolly though, who we already know isn’t human.

As the only one left, Pan is forced to start NPC streaming. The virus we saw creeping around earlier has fully deteriorated the world and can be seen floating around in the background. Tears in their eyes, Pan desperately goes through the motions as if begging the viewer for help. The other characters are seen briefly but they’re crumpled and taped back together, obviously not real.

Pan eventually breaks and reaches forward, literally slamming their fists on the screen but Jolly nonchalantly pulls the curtain down, hiding them from view.

Now another wacky detail here, is that around halfway through the mv. Jolly actually escaped the confines of the headset. Look at him again here during the first chorus, he’s behind the black bar at the bottom of the screen just like everyone else.

But then, the next time we see him and all the scenes after, he is clearly outside of the black bars. Essentially meaning he escaped the program. Fun!

Pan is seen crying to themselves and the lyrics confirm that this party will never end. Jolly forces Pan to face the camera and they give us a deranged smile, having well and truly lost it by now. The screen glitches and shows their NPC pumpkin form. Their decent into longer being a human is complete.

The song ends with a verification failed screen but a split second before this, a blacked out version is shown and this one says ‘verification complete’. Spooky!

(edit: some extra lore, it was pointed out to me that in the niconico upload, the verification doesn’t fail!)

-

And that’s it! If anyone actually read this far thank you hbdjsj

Apart from the very obvious Amazing Digital Circus references, I also see hints of FNAF and Poppy Playtime in here. The environments and atmosphere are all very mascot horror. But! The song still stands on its own. The captcha element is a cool spin on things and Yasutatsu’s chara designs are really fun and expressive. The song itself is also great but that’s to be expected from syudou.

It’s just all really cool, have I conveyed that I think its cool yet !!!!

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Being Sacrificed To Sukuna On Halloween Night

Ryomen Sukuna X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, sacrifice, Sukuna being Sukuna, suggestive themes

Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N:) I am so mad at Sukuna in the manga, but I can't help but still like him. He's too good of a villain and I can't help myself. I had to write something for him for Halloween because reasons. I didn't know I was going to make it this long though. I may have had a little too much fun writing it but hopefully all the Sukuna fangirls enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Until next time happy reading and happy Halloween! ~Countess

Your village was small and prone to attacks from the most powerful curse in existence. Ryomen Sukuna had terrorized anyone and everyone and it was only when he demanded a sacrifice every Halloween did the attacks stop. This year was your turn to be taken to the superior curse. You stood before the window, dressed in white and waiting for evening to come.

Your parents watched you wearily, your mother weeping bitterly when the elders of the village came to claim you. You watched your home get smaller and smaller before it finally disappeared. The lanterns that lit your path swayed in the breeze as the men surrounded you, leading you further away into the eerie woods. Their grim faces made you more nervous as you shivered, from both the cold and fear. You had heard all the tales of Sukuna, but you had never seen him for yourself. A few girls had been returned if they hadn't pleased the curse only to never be whole ever again. They were prone to scream at any moment and they would never have the normal life the others got to have. The elders tried to tell you that it was an honor to be chosen but all you could see it as was a curse.

Your escort stopped abruptly in the middle of the darkest part of the forest. Trees seemed to quiver in the shadows, when four red eyes pierced the shadows. Your breath wheezed out, your knees becoming weak, and heart racing so fast you feared it would stop. The men at your side fled leaving you alone to face your doom. Sukuna's form seemed to part the forest as he finally stepped before you, the moon lighting his features. He stood heads taller than you, the largest man you had ever seen. With his extra arms and tattoos that covered him, he was the most terrifying thing you had ever seen.

"So you are to be my sacrifice this year," he spoke his voice matching his terrifying appearance. "You're stronger than most. Majority of the time the women faint at the sight of me."

It wasn't that you didn't want to faint, or run, or throw up. Your whole body had quit functioning, it didn't know which movement it wanted to make first. He chuckled darkly knowing that you didn't know what to do. At lease you weren't screaming, that was the most annoying trait about women. While he enjoyed a good scream it did get old when that's all they would do. Not you as you stood frozen in fear. You would make a nice toy, he figured he could get some fun from you before he sent your mutilated corpse back to your village.

Grabbing your arm, you had no choice but to follow him as he drug you through the pitch black woods. You tripped and walked awkwardly trying to keep up with his fast pace. It felt like your arm was about to be ripped from your socket before Sukuna scooped you up holding your body in his four arms. Your wide eyes watched his features carefully as he brought you further into the trees. You had lost your way hours ago, even if you did escape there was no way you could find your way back to the village. Even if you could, they wouldn't accept you back as they would see you doomed them all to suffer the wrath of Sukuna. What he did with the girls, no one knew. You knew majority of them were killed as some of the corpses would be brought back. Whether he ate the others or whatever he deemed worthy of their bodies no one would know. You would know later, you shivered at the thought, but you would never get the chance to tell a soul.

He set you before a shrine carved into the base of a mountain. He shoved you inside, causing you to sprawl across the stone floor. He stepped over you, his robes pulling at your clothing and hair before he took a set upon a throne of bones.

"You are boring me," he muttered. "No screams, no fighting. I was hoping for a little bit of fun before I killed you. Did you just accept your fate?"

You stood up, brushing the dirt from your robes before nodding.

"You do know you can speak to me?"

You shook your head and Sukuna sighed.

"You're no fun."

You blinked and he stood before you once more. You shrunk back as he gripped your chin.

"Shall we play a game," he cooed.

You gulped.

"If you can entertain me and keep me from getting bored. I'll let you leave at the first sign of dawn. If you bore me, I send your head back to your village and your job will be done. Think you can handle that? I am being very generous."

"Yes," you whispered.

Sukuna cackled, "You're starting off well little dove. Continue and you'll be home before you know it."

Hours passed and you were learning more about the curse Ryomen Sukuna than anyone ever had. You felt like you were walking a tight rope as you tried to keep him pleased. Your body wouldn't stop shaking, especially when his red eyes would glow in rage. You would quickly soothe him over. Sukuna had never met a human female like you and he was beginning to like having you around. He liked the way you felt as he dared you to kiss him, he liked the way your hands felt tangled in his hair, and how much smaller than him you were. So fragile. So human. The sun was beginning to rise faster than he realized, but Sukuna was used to having whatever he wanted. And as a curse he would get whatever he desired, no matter the cost or dirty deed he had to do. He had made you an offer and you had proved yourself worthy in winning, but he wasn't going to let you leave. Not when he finally found a sacrifice worth keeping around. The village could keep the other girls, you had proved to be the one. Your home would be with him and he was ready to see that light leave your eyes when you noticed the dawn. He was ready to see the despair replace the excitement.

"Congratulations you won our little game," he grinned ferally. "Too bad you made the game too much fun. I won't let you leave. You can stay with me."

You deflated, tears flowing freely from your eyes. Sukuna stalked forward leaning over your sobbing form. You looked at him with such hatred it gave him a thrill, your body jolting in revolt as he licked the tears from your cheek.

"Welcome to your new home little dove," he growled.

You had been given an honor you never wanted. The Bride of Sukuna as the curse scooped you up. You kicked and screamed, the fight finally coming to your body as he dragged you deeper into his lair. You wished death upon yourself as the hope he had given you that evening was stripped from you. You cursed him and yourself for thinking a curse such as Sukuna would keep his word. You lost sight of the entrance as the sun was taken from you. Those little rays you had gotten to see were to be the last you ever gotten to enjoy as Sukuna kept you deep in the cave. You were his prize and he would never let you go.

[quads4days]

The Curse of the Werewolf: Blue Moon Rises

Happy Halloween, Everyone! May your candy be plentiful and your gut full as you enjoy this Halloween Tale! 🎃

Chapter 1: Echoes from the Past

The cold February wind seeped through the gaps in the window, making the heavy curtains sway gently. Chase stared at his reflection in the old, ornate mirror that dominated his bedroom wall. Just four months ago, the image staring back at him was that of a lean, chiseled marathon runner. Now, the man in the mirror bore little resemblance to that memory.

His once-taut skin was now stretched, filled with an extra 60kg that seemed impossible to believe. The sharp jawline, a point of pride for Chase, was now softened, making way for a double chin that settled comfortably atop his significantly wider neck. His chest, once firm and defined, now hung heavier, the pectorals replaced with soft mounds that jiggled at the slightest movement.

But it was his midsection that showed the most drastic change. Chase's washboard abs, painstakingly earned through countless hours of training, were buried beneath layers of adipose. His stomach, once flat and rigid, now protruded in a grand, soft arc, cascading over the waistband of his sweatpants. The once negligible love handles had transformed into rolls that spilled over his sides. Every step, every breath caused ripples to run across the vast expanse of his belly.

Feeling a heaviness not just in body but in spirit, Chase sank into his reading chair, an old tome in hand. He had been scouring ancient texts and obscure internet forums for any hint of the curse Bennett had passed onto him. And there, in a weathered folklore book, he found it. A legend dating back centuries, discussing a curse far more insidious than he had feared. The "Werewolf's Curse," it said, wasn't just about uncontrollable weight gain during the full moon. The original curse allowed the cursed individual to pass it on through a bite, causing the afflicted to be overcome with the hunger of the wolf during the full moon of Halloween, an event that if Chase’s calculations were correct would occur again next Halloween. Administering the curse during such a full moon would rid Chase of his fat body and stop his monthly growth and cause him to turn into an alpha wolf, the image in front of him depicting the most muscular man Chase had laid eyes on in front of an illustration of a full mood. The curse, once transferred, would be his victims problem, leaving the victim heavier and the curser once again free to live their life.

Chase's heart raced, his new, hefty form quivering with anxiety. This was more than just gaining weight; it was a sinister game of passing the burden, forever altering lives. In his frustration, he stood up, the chair groaning under the sudden movement. He grasped his ample stomach with both hands, shaking it as if he could simply cast off the added weight, the thick layer of fat rippling like a disturbed pond. His face was etched with a mixture of despair and anger. He had 8 months until Halloween and at his current pace, could be very well too large to survive until that time came.

Just then, a soft knock echoed through the stillness of the room. A shadow passed by the frosted window pane next to the entrance. Someone was at his door.

Chapter 2: Unforeseen Bonds

The door creaked open slowly, revealing the familiar faces of Luke, Sean, and Ethan. But as recognition dawned on Chase, so too did a mixture of horror and surprise. For while he was taken aback to see his brothers on his doorstep, the changes in their physiques were even more startling.

Luke, the youngest, once had the lean build of a swimmer – elongated and streamlined. But now, the once pronounced muscles of his torso were noticeably softened. A pouch had formed around his belly, pushing against the fabric of his tight shirt, hinting at the beginnings of a more rounded physique. The V-line, which once directed one's gaze towards his slender hips, had faded, overshadowed by the soft bulge that started just below his navel.

Sean, always the lithe gymnast, now exhibited a roundness that betrayed his athletic history. His formerly flat stomach, which used to ripple with defined muscles during his routines, now bowed out gently, creating a silhouette that was undeniably softer. His love handles, previously non-existent, were making a noticeable appearance, cushioning his sides.

However, it was Ethan's transformation that was the most dramatic. The eldest after Chase, Ethan had the build of a sprinter – muscular, yet agile. Now, he looked as if he had taken a hiatus from all physical activities. His shirt, stretched taut across his form, revealed a pronounced belly, the result of months under the curse's effect. The belly was rounded, prominent, and jiggled slightly with each step he took. The waistband of his jeans dug into his sides, creating a muffin-top effect, emphasising his increased girth.

“Look at what you have done to us, Chase!” Ethan's voice boomed, anger evident in his eyes. Sean and Luke, equally upset but more contained, nodded in agreement.

Chase looked in horror. “How?” He prompted.

Ethan, his once chiseled jawline now softened, cleared his throat, gathering the attention of the room. "After we, well, taunted you on Christmas Eve, I noticed you seemed feverish, distant. As we all gorged on the desserts, I recall trying to grab a particularly decadent piece of cake from your hand." He rubbed the back of his now-chubbier hand absentmindedly. "In your frenzied state, you bit me. It wasn't a huge bite, more like a deep scratch, but I felt an immediate jolt of hunger like nothing I've ever experienced."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing, "Then, during a family get-together, I had a similar moment of insatiable hunger. I was sharing a pizza with Luke. As I reached for another slice, I accidentally bit him." Luke grimaced at the memory, rubbing the spot on his hand where the mark still faintly showed. "It was bizarre. It wasn't painful, but the sensation was... overpowering. Before I knew it, I was engulfed in this same hunger, and one unfortunate evening, Sean got in the way of my meal."

Sean sighed, looking down at his newly rounded belly. "I never stood a chance. The bite, the hunger, it's like a wildfire, spreading uncontrollably from one to another." The room was silent for a moment, the brothers absorbing the gravity of their intertwined fates.

Chase, overwhelmed with guilt and shock, tried to find the right words. "I didn't... I didn’t know. I swear!" he stammered.

Luke's voice wavered, a mix of frustration and sadness. "Look at us, Chase. How could you not know?"

Trying to calm the rising tension, Chase gestured to the living room. "Let's sit. Talk."

As they settled, the room was filled with the sound of fabric stretching and the occasional grunt as each tried to find a comfortable position with their newfound weight. Chase, in a bid to lighten the mood and also address the gnawing hunger the curse brought, brought out plates of sandwiches, pastries, and a large pitcher of iced tea.

Eating together, despite the grim circumstances, brought back a semblance of normality. The room resonated with soft chews, sips, and the clinking of cutlery. Chase felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering countless meals shared in their childhood. Despite the anger and the many questions that lingered, there was a comfort in this shared moment - a reminder that the bonds of family often ran deeper than any curse or adversity.

Chapter 3: The Gluttonous Moonlight Duel

The brothers, determined to confront the root of their cursed hunger, scoured the city for Bennett. They would force him to take back the cure, they just needed to find him. They looked in the old bars, visited obscure places Bennett might have mentioned, and even hired a private investigator. Their desperation grew with each passing day, knowing another full moon was on the horizon. The truth was, none of them had the willpower to handle the insatiable hunger another full moon would bring.

The brothers, determined to confront the root of their cursed hunger, scoured the city for Bennett. They looked in the old bars, visited obscure places Bennett might have mentioned, and even hired a private investigator. Their desperation grew with each passing day, knowing another full moon was on the horizon. The truth was, none of them had the willpower to handle the insatiable hunger another full moon would bring.

The day of the full moon arrived faster than they had hoped. Although the sun still dominated the sky, a gnawing hunger began to grip them. By nightfall, their restraint faltered. 

The brothers' unity in their quest to find Bennett frayed when the next full moon approached. A latent competitiveness, fostered since childhood in sports and academics, reared its head in the most unseemly manner. Each brother secretly harboured the hope that if they ate the most during the full moon, they might somehow outpace the curse's effects. It was a twisted logic, born of desperation and sibling rivalry.

In the heart of the city stood a 24-hour buffet that the brothers once frequented after marathon training. It now became their arena of competition. As the first pangs of hunger struck, Chase, a remnant of his former athletic self, loaded his plate high, the pile almost obscuring his newly bloated face. His shirt, already snug over a belly that had been washboard-flat merely months ago, looked ready to give way as he heaved mouthfuls of food.

Ethan, who was already bursting out of his clothes from previous feasts, seemed hell-bent on leading the pack. Every bite he took stretched his shirt a bit more, threatening to expose the soft, doughy expanse beneath. With each plate, a new roll seemed to emerge, his belly extending ever outward.

Luke, normally calm and collected, had a wild glint in his eye as he attacked dish after dish. His trousers, once loose, now bit into his flesh, creating noticeable muffin tops. His belly, firm and flat just months prior, bounced with each step, revealing his rapid transformation.

Sean, the youngest and least affected until now, was not to be outdone. He gorged with a determination that was both admirable and horrifying. As the night progressed, the waistband of his jeans dug deeper and deeper into his increasingly softening midsection.

The buffet transformed into a battlefield, with plates as weapons and food as ammo. The staff watched in horror and fascination, having never seen such voracious appetites. By the night's end, the brothers, each trying to out-eat the other, were sprawled amid a scene of utter devastation.

Dawn's light found them in Chase's living room. Chase, his belly stretched and bloated, spilled generously onto the floor, his shirt buttons ripped open unable to contain his newfound girth. Ethan, beside him, looked as if he'd swallowed a beach ball. His shirt, already tight at the start of the evening, had split open, revealing a quivering mass of fat.

Luke, curled on a chair, had clearly undergone the most dramatic transformation. His shirt had ridden up, exposing a once-taut stomach now soft and pudgy, quivering with the slightest movement. Sean, sprawled on the couch, was barely recognisable. His face, once angular, was now cherubic, and his stomach, round and distended, was a testament to the night's excesses.

Their food-fuelled competition had left them all losers in the cruel game of the werewolf's curse. The pressing need to find Bennett and break the curse became more palpable than ever.

Chapter 4: The Bitter Reveal

The stifling August heat was only made more unbearable for Chase by the weight he carried. Nearly 260kg now, he moved with difficulty, each step a reminder of the curse Bennett had placed on him. An investigator they had hired had finally tracked Bennett down to a park in the heart of the city, and Chase had managed to make his way there, accompanied by his brothers.

Bennett was a revelation, a stark contrast to the man Chase had known. Gone was the mountain of flesh, replaced instead by a physique that would not be out of place on a magazine cover. Broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, and abs that seemed carved out of stone. Bennett stood shirtless, performing calisthenics, drawing admiring glances from all around.

Chase, lumbering forward, could hardly believe his eyes. "Bennett?" he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Bennett turned, his ice-blue eyes regarding Chase coolly. "Well, well," he drawled, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "If it isn't the marathon man himself."

Chase felt a hot flush of embarrassment as Bennett sauntered over, taking in Chase's massive form with obvious amusement. Without a word, Bennett reached out, his strong fingers digging into the soft flesh of Chase's belly, making it jiggle. Chase tried to pull away, but Bennett's grip was firm.

Around them, onlookers whispered and pointed, some even laughing. Chase felt like a sideshow attraction, humiliated and exposed. Bennett seemed to revel in the attention, clearly enjoying the power he held over Chase.

"You see, Chase," Bennett began, his voice dripping with condescension, "I had grown tired of my own immense size. The curse, as , is both a blessing . By transferring  my weight to you, I was able to revert to this." He gestured at his impeccable form. "I chose you that Halloween night because you were the perfect specimen. A fit, trim man, ripe for transformation."

Chase struggled to find words, his shame almost too much to bear. Bennett continued, "And the more you gain, the stronger the beast inside me becomes, did you know that? Each month you have been getting fatter, I’ve been getting stronger.” Bennett flexed his massive biceps. “Last month must have been a big one chase, I could hardly fit through my apartment door I gre so broad, all because you can’t keep yourself from eating like the pig you are.”

As if to emphasise his dominance, Bennett reached into his pocket and produced a large chocolate bar. Without warning, he pushed it against Chase's lips, forcing him to take a bite. "Eat up, fatty," he whispered maliciously.

Chase, tears of humiliation forming, felt anger rising inside his substantial stomach. He began to run after Bennett as he fled, the four father brothers trying to catch the last chance they had at a normal life.

Chapter 5: Labyrinth of Shadows

Under the mottled shade of the summer trees, Bennett's toned and muscular form glistened with a sheen of sweat, each sinew and contour exaggerated by the sun's dappled light. His shirtless torso was a testament to physical perfection, a sculpture come alive, every muscle rippling and flexing as he darted effortlessly ahead. The sunlight played tricks, casting an almost golden halo around him, making him look even more godlike. Behind him, the brothers labored in pursuit.

Chase, the heaviest amongst them, moved with surprising speed for a man of his size. Each step caused his swollen belly to bounce and jiggle, and his clothes strained to contain his expansive girth. Despite his massive size, there was a determination in his eyes, a fire fueled by the burning humiliation Bennett had subjected him to.

Ethan, despite being the next heaviest, tried to keep pace with Chase. His once trim waist now spilled over his jeans, and his shirt, too tight to button, flapped open, revealing a soft belly that danced with each heavy step. His face was flushed red, both from exertion and anger.

Luke and Sean, both now considerably plumper than they used to be, panted heavily as they followed. Their once fit physiques, though not as transformed as Chase's, were now cushioned in layers of soft fat. Their fuller cheeks and double chins bounced rhythmically, and their bellies, though smaller than their elder siblings', bobbed with every step, the shirts they wore riding up, exposing the lower curves of their new-found paunches.

The chase was a spectacle. On one hand, Bennett, the epitome of fitness, darted forward like a gazelle, while on the other, the brothers, weighed down by their new bulk, lumbered behind, a strange mix of determination and despair in their strides.

As Bennett led them on, the town's old carnival lot loomed in the distance, its rusting rides and dilapidated tents casting eerie silhouettes against the setting sun. Without pausing, Bennett made straight for the haunted house attraction, its entrance a gaping maw beckoning them in.

Not thinking twice, the brothers followed, their heavy breathing echoing in the dimly lit corridors of the haunted house. Strange shadows danced on the walls, and the sound of distant laughter filled the air, giving the place an atmosphere of chilling anticipation.

As they delved deeper into the labyrinthine twists and turns of the attraction, it became clear that this was no ordinary haunted house. Rooms expanded and contracted, hallways led to dead ends, and ghostly apparitions appeared and disappeared at will.

Suddenly, the brothers found themselves in a vast chamber, the ceiling lost in shadows. In the center stood Bennett, an eerie light illuminating his flawless physique from below, casting elongated shadows that seemed to dance and intertwine with the darkness.

"I've been watching you for months fat boy,” Bennett sneered, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Did you really think you could escape your fate, Chase?"

The singular door that allowed them entry suddenly slammed shut with a thunderous clang. Instantly, a thick, opaque gas hissed from unseen vents, rapidly filling the room. Despite their best efforts to hold their breath, the gas's overpowering nature made the brothers' heads spin. One by one, their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground, succumbing to unconsciousness.

When they awoke, the scene was more terrifying than any nightmare. The brothers found themselves bound on individual metal tables, cold and unyielding. Chains wrapped tightly around their wrists and ankles, rendering any movement impossible. Overhead, dim bulbs cast an eerie, flickering light, causing their now plumper shadows to dance grotesquely on the walls.

Bennett, now dressed in a dark tailored suit that accentuated his Adonis-like physique, leaned over Chase, his blue eyes piercing into Chase's soul. "You see, Chase," he began with a malevolent grin, "there's a little detail about this curse I hadn't shared. If you pass it on this Halloween, my growing power will be halted. But if I keep you here," Bennett's hand glided across Chase's expansive stomach, the coldness of his touch sending shivers down Chase's spine, "and ensure you keep eating and expanding, my strength will grow exponentially, unending. Imagine the possibilities."

The weight of Bennett's revelation hung heavily in the air, as the brothers exchanged terrified glances, realising the direness of their predicament.

Chapter 6: The Inescapable Feast

In the chamber's gloom, the four MacIntyre brothers lay captured, a grotesque banquet of burgeoning flesh. Each one was placed strategically so they faced one another, a cruel design by Bennett to ensure they bore witness to each other's continuous expansion. All of them were bereft of clothing, highlighting the stark transformation they had undergone in their captivity. Their fat forms were immobilised, not just by the sheer weight they had put on, but also by the chains that bound them to the cold, metallic tables.

Attached to each of their faces were tubes, which seemed to pulsate with a life of their own. From these tubes flowed a golden concoction that was the brainchild of Bennett's malevolent imagination. This liquid, he had explained with a smirk, was a specially concocted blend. A fusion of mass gainer to swell their size, an appetite stimulant to keep them constantly hungry, a muscle relaxant to ensure their bodies absorbed every calorie, and a thick sugary cream to accelerate their weight gain. The brothers had no choice but to swallow the relentless flow of the potion.

Chase, the eldest and once the paragon of health, lay with his midsection expanded grotesquely outward, a vast dome that rose and fell with his labored breaths. His once sturdy limbs were now submerged under soft, wobbly layers of fat.

Ethan, the next in line, had always been a tad larger, and this predicament had simply exaggerated his natural tendencies. His midsection was a maze of soft rolls and creases, with the skin stretched taut from the rapid gain. It was clear that his body had struggled to accommodate the sudden influx of weight. His cheeks were chubbier, giving him a boyish appearance that contrasted with the large double chin resting on his neck. He now had a belly that sagged significantly, folding over itself. The skin stretched and shiny, bearing testament to the rapid accumulation of pounds.

Luke was distinguishable by the peculiar distribution of his new weight. His backside had grown immensely, creating an elevated mound on the table. It wobbled independently of the rest of him, it had blossomed into a large, rounded mass that lifted him slightly off the table, and when he occasionally shifted, it would jiggle for several seconds, betraying its softness.

The youngest, Sean, was a spectacle of even distribution. The added weight had rounded him out uniformly. His once angular face now exhibited plump cheeks and a fullness that erased the vestiges of youth, giving him an almost cherubic appearance. s belly, while not as pronounced as Chase's, was still a significant mound, with a deep crease where it met his pelvis.

Bennett's potion was a masterstroke of wickedness. As much as they were horrified by their situation, the brothers couldn’t help but feel a perverse yearning for the golden nectar, their bodies betraying them with each insatiable gulp.

Chapter 7: The Power of the Full Moon

The atmosphere in the chamber became electric as Bennett purposefully moved to a lever on the wall. With a swift pull, the roof slowly split apart, revealing the ominous night sky. The brilliance of the September full moon flooded the room, illuminating every crevice and corner, bathing all in its ethereal light.

Striding with purpose, Bennett shed his clothes, standing in his full muscular glory, every sinew and contour outlined by the luminescent moonlight. The very aura of strength and dominance emanated from him as he soaked in the full force of the lunar energies.

Chase, Ethan, Luke, and Sean, already incapacitated, could do little more than become vessels for the overpowering transformational energy of the full moon. The effects of their curse, magnified by the celestial event, took hold with unprecedented vigour. Their feeding tubes, already delivering the potent potion into them, seemed to pulsate faster, urging them to consume more. Greedily, they swallowed, their bellies making soft, sloshing noises.

Chase, already the largest among the brothers, began a grotesque metamorphosis under the moon's influence. The once athletic form, now imprisoned by layers of lard, seemed to come alive with a voracious appetite for expansion. His flesh, as if possessed, started to ripple and quiver, each wave pushing the boundaries of his skin further. The room echoed with the sound of skin stretching taut and the soft sloshing of the liquid coursing through his feeding tube, catalysing his transformation.

Above his head, a scale displayed the alarming rate of his growth. The numbers, which had been steadily climbing over the weeks, now leaped forward at a frantic pace: 320kg, 325kg, 330kg. The pace was unrelenting. Every second seemed to add more weight, each digit flashing faster than the last. 335kg, 340kg, 345kg. It was as though some invisible force was pumping him full, each pulse adding kilograms. The soft, pliable fat from earlier was now consolidating into heavy, pendulous masses. His belly, once able to sway slightly, became more solid and pronounced, stretching down and threatening to touch the floor. As 350kg approached, his legs, buried beneath the burgeoning bulk of his abdomen, were slowly being swallowed up, becoming mere appendages to the leviathan mass that was his stomach.

His sides filled outwards, like dough rising unchecked, consuming the space around him. What was once a distinguishable waistline vanished into rolls that cascaded down, merging with the equally expansive swell of his hips. As the scale hurtled past 360kg, his chest, no longer discernible from his midsection, was now a plateau of flesh, rising and falling with his increasingly laboured breaths.

The transformation was a haunting symphony of expansion. Chase's body, under the potent combination of the moon and Bennett’s concoction, seemed hell-bent on becoming an unending expanse of fat. The room itself seemed to grow smaller as his enormity filled every available inch, turning his form into a dark monument of excess and overindulgence.

Ethan, previously a robust figure, was now a distorted version of his former self. Once tipping the scales at a fit 100kg, he had always carried his weight with a sense of pride, a touch of bulk to his frame that gave him presence. But now, his body betrayed an entirely different story. The scale above him blinked rapidly: 150kg, 155kg, 160kg...

As the weight packed on, his once broad shoulders were now rounded, padded with thick layers of soft adipose. His midsection, previously taut with muscle, was now a vast expanse, billowing outwards, pushing his once toned pecs into soft, pendulous breasts. Each ripple and shudder of his body made it expand sideways, making him wider and broader, as if trying to occupy as much space as possible.

His abdomen was a canvas of rolls upon rolls, cascading downwards and outwards, each layer softer and more pronounced than the one above. The once firm belly now sagged heavily, folding over in thick layers, every fold deepening with each kilogram he added. His navel, once a simple indent, was now lost within the deep canyon of his belly. The sheen on his stretched skin, reflecting the dim light of the room, bore silent witness to the extreme pace of his gain.

His face, though still recognisably Ethan's, was puffier. The chiselled jawline was now obscured, buried beneath chubby cheeks that gave him an almost innocent, boyish appearance. But this semblance of youth was betrayed by a heavy, large double chin that rested heavily on his neck, quivering with every breath. The scale above hesitated momentarily at 190kg, before inching agonisingly forward. It settled, blinking, just a hair shy of 200kg, marking Ethan's shocking transformation.

Luke, with his gymnast background, had always flaunted a lower body that drew attention, a chiselled monument to his countless hours on the pommel horse and parallel bars. As the curse’s effect took hold, the very athleticism that defined him became his undoing.

His buttocks, previously firm and rounded from years of discipline, continued to expand at an alarming rate. They swelled in size, morphing from solid muscle to soft, yielding flesh that jiggled with every heartbeat. Each cheek ballooned outwards and downwards, reminiscent of overfilled sacks of rich cream. The tables creaked ominously beneath the mounting weight, protesting the rapid deposition of fat. It was as if gravity itself had decided to claim Luke's posterior, pulling and stretching it down, rendering it a dominant feature of his burgeoning silhouette.

In tandem with his expanding rear, Luke’s thighs thickened dramatically. Once lean and muscular, they now resembled overstuffed sausages, straining with the rapid addition of fatty tissue. The inner thighs rubbed together with an audible chafing, each step a testament to his newfound girth.

His love handles and hips didn’t escape the cruel twist of fate either. Fat accumulated around his midsection at an alarming pace, causing his once narrow waist to broaden and blur into his ballooning hips. His once taut sides now bore the burden of heavy flaps of fat that jutted out, creating a pronounced pear-shaped silhouette. The defined V-line he once boasted had disappeared, replaced by a soft, flabby curve that merged his abdomen with his inflating love handles.

Luke's scale, affixed above, mirrored his drastic transformation. Numbers soared the former lean 90kg man, skipped past the 130kg mark, and settled with a mocking finality at 153kg, marking the rapid and shocking expansion of the once agile gymnast.

Sean, with his youthful sprightliness and lean form, seemed almost ill-suited for the curse's perverse machinations. Yet as the full moon's power coursed through him, the transformation it wrought was nothing short of astonishing.

Initially, the youngest of the brothers began to expand uniformly. It started with a slow puffing out of his chest, followed by a widening of his waist. Every part of him began to inflate simultaneously, as if an invisible force was pumping him full of air. His pecs, once flat and athletic, became rounded mounds that protruded from his expanding torso. His arms, though still visibly muscled underneath, were blanketed with a layer of fat, turning them from chiselled limbs to thick, padded appendages.

But it was his midsection's transformation that truly defied belief. As he gained, his belly didn't droop or sag like his brothers'. Instead, it swelled outwards in all directions, giving him the appearance of a perfectly spherical ball. This even distribution of weight rendered his navel almost a central point on this vast expanse of white, taut flesh. His back, too, curved outwards, ensuring that from any angle, Sean looked like a near-perfect circle.

His legs, once slender, became tree trunks of fat, each thigh nearly touching the other all the way down to his knees, their muscular definition hidden beneath the soft layers. His calves, too, puffed out, making it seem as if his feet might disappear beneath the inflating mass at any moment.

His face, always cherubic, became rounder, the sharpness of his jawline now obscured by a layer of plumpness. His cheeks resembled juicy apples, full and rosy, while his neck seemed to have been absorbed into his swollen chest and chin, creating a seamless transition.

The scale positioned above him blinked and whirred, reflecting his burgeoning mass. The digits climbed: 100kg, 110kg, 120kg, before finally settling with a small beep at 130kg. The sight of the number only accentuated the uncanny, balloon-like transformation of Sean, the boyish brother who had morphed into a fleshy orb under the moon's malevolent glow.

Amidst this transformational chaos, Bennett's body too underwent a change, but in stark contrast to the brothers. Every muscle in his physique bulged, growing larger and more defined. Veins snaked their way across his body, pulsating with the power he was drawing from the full moon and the brothers' plight. His shoulders broadened, and his chest expanded as if an unseen force was inflating him from the inside. The sheer force of his muscular expansion seemed to be in perfect tandem with the brothers' fattening.

A powerful energy permeated the chamber as each man reached a climactic point in their transformations. Bennett, at the height of his muscular growth, appeared as the ultimate alpha wolf, while the brothers, though immobilised, could not deny the overpowering dominance he exuded.

Suddenly, the overwhelming force of the combined transformations reached a crescendo, and the room was filled with a blinding light, enveloping each of them. Moments later, the room plunged into darkness, the weight of the night's events causing every occupant to fall into a deep unconsciousness.

Chapter 8: The Heavy Reality

The room's chilling atmosphere was stifling, but even that couldn't hide the warm, pulsating hum of four obese bodies, each grotesquely distorted by an unthinkable curse. Chase tried to shift, to get a better view of his brothers, but the sheer weight of his own body inhibited him. His vision was dominated by his massive, fleshy breasts which, like twin mountains, jutted out and were only surpassed in scale by the undulating mound of his stomach below.

It wasn't just their size but their feel; the very texture of his flesh had changed. Where it had once been taut and firm, it was now soft and doughy, yielding to even the slightest touch. He could feel every roll, every crease, every stretch mark that adorned his new body, mapping out a topography of his torment.

A strange sensation tickled the underside of his gargantuan gut, and it took him a moment to comprehend what it was. His belly, distended and pendulous, had grown to such a magnitude that it now grazed the cold, stone floor, pulling his skin in different directions.

Sean, Luke, and Ethan, while not as massively transformed as Chase, were unrecognisable. The brothers who once laughed, competed, and shared a lifetime of memories together, now lay incapacitated by their own bodies, their features obscured by layers of fat.

The faint echo of footsteps grew louder, and the door creaked open, revealing the towering, muscular form of Bennett. His physique was a stark contrast to the brothers: where they were round and soft, he was chiseled and hard. The malevolent gleam in his eyes made it clear that he took perverse pleasure in their plight.

"Good morning, boys," Bennett's voice oozed with malice, filling the room with an even more pronounced sense of dread. "Enjoying your new figures, I see?"

Chase tried to respond, to muster some sort of defiance, but all that came out was a heavy, laboured breath. Bennett approached him, his eyes raking over Chase's form with a mix of pride and mockery. The muscular man leaned over, his hands caressing the vast sea of flesh before him. Each touch sent a shiver through Chase, as Bennett seemed to savour the sensation of so much softness beneath his fingers.

"You've always been the standout, haven't you, Chase?" Bennett whispered, his breath hot on Chase's ear. He pressed himself into Chase's side, hugging the mass of flesh. "420 kilograms. A magnificent size. And just think," he continued, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "in a month's time, this will be but a memory as you grow even larger."

With a final, lingering touch, Bennett straightened up and moved towards the door. "Enjoy your stay," he smirked, the door slamming shut behind him, sealing the brothers once more in their fleshy prison.

Chapter 9: Encroaching Desperation

In the cold, dimly lit chamber, the incessant drone of slurping and gulping seemed to magnify, echoing off the stone walls in a macabre symphony of gluttony. As days melded into nights, and nights into days, Chase's perception of time warped. The room, which once seemed vast, now felt increasingly confined, not due to any change in its dimensions, but rather the ceaseless expansion of the occupants within.

The sweet, viscous nectar that flowed into Chase's mouth through the feeding tube was intoxicating. Every gulp was a mix of bliss and torment; the pleasure of the taste juxtaposed with the horror of his uncontrollable growth. Even as his thoughts grew muddled, one unyielding desire remained at the forefront of his mind: to consume.

Chase's body was a testament to excess. His mammoth breasts, heavy and pendulous, completely obscured his vision, pushing up towards his face in their quest for space. The sheer enormity of his belly was incomprehensible; it sprawled out in every direction, the skin stretched thin, glistening with sweat and speckled with reddened stretch marks.

But then came a new sensation—a pressure at the front of his distended gut. At first, he assumed it was just another roll of his own fat folding over itself. But as the minutes passed and the feeling persisted, the unsettling truth dawned upon him. The pressure was external. It was Ethan's body meeting his, their growth pushing them inexorably together.

The brothers' bodies, once distinct entities, now melded and merged, their boundaries blurring in this grotesque tapestry of flesh. The very air in the room seemed to grow thinner as their combined bulk consumed the available space. Chase's moans of pleasure and discomfort intertwined with those of his brothers, creating a haunting chorus that spoke of both ecstasy and despair.

As the feeding continued, Chase's thoughts spiralled into chaos. He was trapped in a cycle of arousal and horror, torn between the pleasure of the relentless feeding and the impending doom that lurked ever closer. The forthcoming Halloween full moon was a ticking time bomb, promising either salvation or an even grimmer fate.

With each passing moment, one thought grew more and more pronounced in Chase's fevered mind: Would the moon's transformative power be their saviour? Or would they simply continue to grow, their bodies pushing and pressing against each other until they were nothing but a mass of flesh, smothering one another in their insatiable hunger?

Chapter 10: Shadows of the Full Moon

The hollow echo of night birds and the rustling of trees filled the cavernous chamber as the roof creaked open, revealing the inky sky. Stars twinkled like scattered diamonds, but what caught Chase's strained eyes was the pale, foreboding glow of the Halloween moon. Its silver light bathed the room, casting ghostly shadows and illuminating the vast, undulating expanse of flesh that the brothers had become. The brothers, their restraints now released, attempted to communicate with each other. Their once-strong voices were now muted, distorted by the sheer mass of their swollen, fat-encased throats and the torment of weeks in bondage. Sean's voice emerged, more a distorted moan than a clear utterance. "Chase... God, you've... transformed... must be pushing past 650kg."

From deep within his own cavern of flesh, Luke struggled to project his voice, each word a battle against his engorged jowls and cheeks. "Sean... my God, you're unrecognisable... you've ballooned beyond 300kg!" Amidst the layers of fat that blanketed him, Ethan managed a choked whisper, the strain evident in his words, "Luke... you're not... not trailing far... easily 250kg."

Chase's world was a suffocating cocoon of his own body. Everywhere he turned, mountains of his own flesh blocked his view. Desperately, he tried to shift, the mass of his form resisting at every attempt. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart raced, and his breathing came in ragged gasps as he endeavoured to catch a glimpse of Ethan’s scale. After a nightmarish struggle, he saw the numbers, and the reality bore down on him with a weight even greater than his flesh: an unthinkable 450kg.

A sudden rush of cold air heralded the entrance of a new figure. Bennett, now an 8-foot titan of muscle, loomed over the brothers. Every rippling sinew of his body seemed to be chiseled from stone, a stark contrast to the soft, expansive forms beneath him. Naked and unashamed, he manoeuvred his way through the mounds of flesh, his sneering face a mask of dark triumph.

He clambered atop the vast terrain of the brothers' combined bellies, his powerful form casting a long, threatening shadow. As he settled, the sheer weight of his muscular frame pressed down on them, eliciting groans of discomfort. Bennett's fingers, strong and unyielding, dug into the soft fat, manipulating it, toying with the brothers as if they were nothing more than playthings.

Lying atop the vast sea of the brothers' stomachs, Bennett looked up at the rising moon, his face illuminated in its haunting glow. "I hope you're enjoying your new forms," he whispered malevolently. "Because this is only the beginning. You'll be my everlasting machines, your bodies expanding endlessly, fuelling my growth."

Chase's heart raced. The moon was at its zenith, and the curse's power was at its peak. This was their one chance, the one moment when the curse could potentially be reversed. But the realisation was a double-edged sword. As he tried to summon the will to act, the enormity of his form betrayed him. He was immobile, trapped by his own body.

The room felt colder, the weight of Bennett's body and the impending doom pressing down on them, magnified by the power of the Halloween moon. The lines between hope and despair, between salvation and eternal entrapment, seemed to blur.

Chapter 11: The Curse Reversed

The atmosphere was electric as Bennett rose to his feet, every sinew in his bulging muscles tightening in anticipation. He lifted his arms, reaching out to the heavens as the glow of the massive blue moon washed over him. It was as if the universe had painted the sky especially for this moment – the moonlight, pure and unfiltered, cast a silvery-blue sheen over everything, painting the grotesque scene in stark relief.

“Grant me your power!” Bennett roared, his voice echoing with raw desire, every fibre of his being resonating with the pull of the moon. He stood tall, his chiseled form in stark contrast to the vast landscape of flesh beneath him. The brothers, for all their grotesque size, seemed almost dwarfed by his towering, muscular presence.

But as Bennett revelled in his moment of ascension, an unforeseen twist awaited him. Slowly, he felt a peculiar sensation. Glancing downwards, he realised with growing horror that his foot was sinking into the soft flesh beneath him. As if it was quicksand, the mounds of fatty tissue began to envelop his leg.

"No!” he cried, panic evident in his voice. Trying to retract his foot, he only found himself sinking further. The very mass he had cultivated in the brothers was now becoming his prison.

The brothers, sensing his vulnerability, began to stir, their moans of despair transforming into growls of determination.

“Hold him!” Sean gasped, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. And with an effort that seemed impossible for his overstretched body, he rolled forward, his mouth finding purchase on Bennett’s straining bicep. Bennett screamed, a sound of pure agony, as Luke, with newfound strength, lunged forward and clamped his jaws onto Bennett’s outstretched hand.

Ethan, his face a mask of determination, managed to hoist his swollen form enough to take a bite out of Bennett’s shoulder. The pain was clearly excruciating as Bennett's cries reached a fevered pitch.

But the crescendo was yet to come. Chase, the largest and most transformed of them all, summoned every ounce of his might, rolling his colossal mass forward. As he moved, waves of fat rippled outward, pushing Bennett further into their collective mass. As the moon reached the zenith of its power, Chase, with a look of grim determination, leaned over and bit down hard into Bennett’s thigh.

The muscular titan's screams of pain and fear resonated in the room as he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into the sea of flesh below him. As his head began to submerge, the combined weight of the brothers bore down on him, muffling his cries.

And then, as the final seconds of the full moon's peak ticked away, the room was filled with the chilling, combined howl of the brothers. The sound echoed, merging with the night, until everything faded into blackness.

Epilogue: Happy Halloween

Chase grunted slightly as he struggled with the rebellious button, but ultimately gave up. The silver strands of his shirt clung to the striations of his impressively muscular chest, highlighting the sinewy contours of his physique. The Halloween night air was cool against his skin, but he felt a warmth radiating from within, the pride of his transformed body. Every ripple, every bulge, was a testament to their hard-fought victory against a dark curse.

Flashing back to that horrifying Halloween night, Chase shuddered, even with his now almost invincible physique. The nightmares of their ordeal persisted, but amidst that darkness emerged a new beginning for him and his brothers. Their shared trauma had cemented their bond even further. The brothers had not only defeated the curse, but in its wake, they had morphed into muscular gods, their bodies sculpted as if by the finest artists.

Ethan, always the tallest, now had shoulders so broad they seemed to span doorways. His washboard abs prominently displayed under the tight fabric of his werewolf costume. Luke, previously lean, now boasted legs so muscular they looked like they could lift a car. His toned arms flexed effortlessly, causing more than a few onlookers to gasp in admiration.

Sean, the youngest, had retained some of his boyish charm, but it was now paired with the physique of a seasoned bodybuilder. The definition in his back muscles alone drew attention from afar. He had traded his youthful naivety for an athletic confidence.

The carnival lights painted a surreal glow on the night, as the brothers converged at the entrance of the haunted house. Their laughter was hearty, filled with camaraderie and jests about their synchronised werewolf attire. They appeared more like models from a fitness magazine than men who had once been trapped in a nightmare.

Entering the haunted house, they navigated the dimly lit corridors, the scent of musty old wood and artificially aged props assaulting their senses. And then, they came upon an attraction titled 'Human Blob'. The grotesque figure of an immobile man, seemingly weighing a tonne, lay before them. Its face was obscured by the layers of fat, making it seem eerily lifelike.

The brothers exchanged knowing glances, the atmosphere thickening with tension. Luke hesitated a moment, then reached out, giving what appeared to be an animatronic figure a tentative poke. To their horror, the flesh yielded slightly under his touch, warm and pulsating. However, the brother’s knew that this wasn’t some carnival contraption, but a living, breathing entity. And not just any entity – the grotesquely swollen form before them was unmistakably Bennett. The mighty and malevolent figure from their past had been transformed, cursed by the very power he sought to harness. The blue moon had taken its revenge, transferring the combined weight of the brothers onto Bennett and then some.

His once muscular physique was buried beneath layers and layers of accumulated fat. His limbs were buried beneath his bulk, and his facial features were almost indistinguishable, smothered by the rolls that cascaded down. A stifled, gurgling sound emanated from deep within the folds, a chilling testament to the life still trapped inside this mountain of flesh. This was Bennett's cruel fate: with every full moon, he would continue to expand, forever trapped in his ever-growing prison of flesh. His eyes, the only recognisable feature, pleaded silently from their sunken sockets. They told a tale of endless hunger and an insatiable appetite that the brothers could once relate to. Ethan whispered to his brothers, “He's still growing...”

Chase, eyes cold, approached the engorged form of Bennett, leaning close to where he assumed the man's ear would be. “Happy Halloween, Bennett,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a mixture of pity and vengeance. The blob shuddered and a loud moan filled the air. The brothers left the haunted house, but the haunting image of Bennett's grotesque transformation would remain with them. Every full moon, they would return, feeding Bennett in a twisted act of mercy and ensuring his curse continued. It was their way of remembering the nightmare they had escaped and the price of meddling with powers beyond comprehension.

Under the pale illumination of the full moon, the brothers paused. Its intense light bathed their chiseled forms, casting elongated shadows on the ground. A sudden surge of power pulsed through them, making their skin tingle. They exchanged anxious glances, bracing for what was to come.

Chase's eyes widened as he felt a peculiar sensation, like molten steel flowing through his veins. With a mixture of awe and apprehension, he watched as his thighs began to swell, the sinewy muscles expanding and bulging. The fabric of his pants groaned under the strain, the seams straining and beginning to pop.

Ethan, smirking, slapped Chase's now even more muscular posterior. "Always told you those calves needed catching up," he teased, a twinkle in his eye. Chase huffed a laugh, flexing his burgeoning calves for emphasis. "Just making sure you guys don't forget who the biggest brother is," he quipped back.

For a moment, the atmosphere lightened, the brothers basking in their newfound strength and unity. Their laughter echoed through the quiet night, a stark contrast to the eerie memories of the past. With their broad shoulders touching and their heads held high, the brothers continued their journey, leaving footprints embedded deeply in the ground, symbols of their growing power. As they walked, their forms grew ever more imposing, silhouettes of raw strength against the moonlit night. A howl rang into the night from the haunted house, the curse of the werewolf audible to all dormant for now until once again, the bite of fate is shared with another.

[kissorkill16]

I'm A Better Person: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Lucy visits her cousin, Finch.

Finch walked tall down the hallway of Raven Brooks Middle School, smiling proudly.

Everyone around her was laughing at all of the pictures she recently printed around the school.

The walls were covered with poster sized pictures of Nicky Roth's mental breakdown.

She remembered taking that picture the other night. She was just minding her own business, and she stumbled upon the school's favorite weirdo, Nicky Roth. Luckily, she had her camera with her, so she just took the picture.

He didn't come to school the next few days, but when he finally did, she made it hell for him. Encouraging all of the other kids to laugh at the kid and call him all sorts of cruel nicknames. Not even the principal did anything, she just brushed it off as just a prank.

After that day, Nicky took another week off school. When he returned, Finch wore her Halloween costume of Nicky in an unbuckled straightjacket and kept screaming "YoU'rE gOiNg To DiE! No OnE iS sAfE, nO oNe!", just like Nicky was screaming that night.

She tormented the poor boy, made everyone else hate him, and felt absolutely no remorse or guilt.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a familiar brown haired girl with a red dress. The girl looked at her with disgust, and Finch took a step back.

"Are you proud of yourself?", asked the girl. "This is what you do?"

Finch's eyes widened in shock, "L-Lucy?", she asked. "But how? You're dead!"

"Yes, but I'm not gone.", said Lucy. "I've been watching over Nicky, the boy YOU tormented for no reason.", she angrily stepped towards Finch, balling her fists. "And what's worse is that you knew he was my friend! You knew he made me happy! But you didn't care, you just wanted to watch people suffer to feed your own selfish, disgusting, despicable ego!"

Finch could feel her eyes fill with tears. She wrapped her arms around her body, feeling cold.

"What is wrong with you?", she asked. "Hurting people, laughing at their misery for no reason, and taking pictures of their most self-destructive moments? I don't know how you sleep at night."

Finch tried to defend herself. "But I apologized!", she protested. "He's learning to forgive me! All of those things are behind us now, and I'm a better person now because of that."

Lucy let out a dry laugh. "Are you? Are you really a better person?"

"Y-Yes..."

Lucy pushed her cousin to the ground, "No you're not!", she yelled at her, her body turning darker and her hair raising up. "You're going to slip up sooner or later, and you're going to go back to the same terrible person you were before you joined the Inventor's Club.", she said. "But one thing's for certain..."

The brown haired girl leaned down to Finch, looking at her dead in the eyes, making Finch quiver with fear. She nearly screamed when her eyes flooded with darkness.

"...I'm going to make you pay for everything you did to Nicky."

Finch gasped awake, coughing as she felt some air clog her throat.

She wiped the sweat that dripped from her forehead, then fell backwards on her bed, breathing in and out.

Then, out of nowhere, she started crying.

She was aware that everything she did to Nicky was wrong, and she was trying to be a better person, but what her little cousin said to her made her feel like garbage.

But she shook herself off.

Because she was going to prove to her that she was going to change for the better.

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO HC How (A) Todoroki, (A) Bakugo, and (A) Hawks would react to finding the (O) Reader held hostage:

Word count: 3199

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mentions of blood, and assault.   

Title: ABO HC How (A) Todoroki, (A) Bakugo, and (A) Hawks would react to finding the (O) Reader held hostage:

Summary: Your Alpha walks in on you being tied to a chair and he is not happy. 

Prologue: 

You had been a well-kept secret from the public. No one knew that your famous Pro Hero Alpha was courting an Omega or even in a long-standing relationship. Your Alpha was too paranoid about your safety to let any of the news outlets find out about your existence.  

You supposed it would have been beneficial for the public to know now that you were in this situation. Surely if the villains knew they would come across an Omega, resting in their nest, they wouldn't have tried to rob the Pro Hero’s house. 

You put up quite the fight once you smelled unfamiliar Alphas near your nest. One hard knock to your head had you subdued. You didn’t dwell over your quick loss considering one Alpha was nursing his swollen balls. 

You got in one good kick before the painful hit fell on your head. 

Now here you sat, tied to a chair, while the robbers argued with each other and what they should do now.

Shoto: 

🧊🔥-“I told you we should have checked the place out before we robbed it! I would have never tried to rob the place if I had known a freaking Omega was here!” The brunette Alpha growled, glaring at his blond friend. 

🧊🔥-“What’s the big deal? So what if the little icy-hot freak has a girlfriend? We will be out of here before he even comes home.” The blond scoffs, shoving expensive silverware and china into his black bag. 

🧊🔥-“You should know how Alpha’s get around their Omegas! He is gonna hunt us down! I don’t want a Pro Hero on my ass.” The brunette seethed, glaring at the goose egg on your head. “Especially since you decided to hit the poor thing! We will be lucky if he doesn’t skin us alive!”

🧊🔥-“The bitch hit me in the balls! Of course, I thumped her one on the head, serves the Omega slut right!” The blonde huffed, sick of hearing his partner complain instead of ransacking the place. 

🧊🔥-“Mmh.” You mumbled, your eyes blinking open to a fuzzy view. 

🧊🔥-“Fucking shit! They’re waking up! I’m not dealing with a weepy Omega.” The brunette cursed, going into Shoto’s office to avoid the whole situation altogether. 

🧊🔥-“Well, if it isn’t Miss nut-cracker.” The blond chuckled darkly, walking over to your tied up frame.

🧊🔥-You didn’t back down and just glared at the dumb fool. 

🧊🔥-“Aren’t too smart, are you? What type of shitty criminal robs a Pro Hero? Dumb ones, that’s what.” You spit, narrowing your blurry eyes at him. 

🧊🔥-No doubt you would need to go to the doctor after this whole ordeal. Not like you would have a choice. You were sure even if they didn’t lay a hand on you that Shoto would have insisted on one. 

🧊🔥-“You dumb little bitch!” The blond lifted his ring covered hand to hit you again. You tried not to flinch as it came down to strike you. 

🧊🔥-The brunette stood in the office doorway, his bag filled with expensive clocks and other expensive desk items. 

🧊🔥-“I got everything in the office. Did you...” The brunette didn’t get to finish his sentence. 

🧊🔥-The front door was busted open. Shoto had smelled two Alphas on the other side of the door and he was not pleased. He was even less pleased when the door slammed open to reveal his battered Omega tied to a chair. 

🧊🔥-His mismatched eyes turned dark. The temperature in the room both dropped and elevated at the same time. His tired body was instantly filled with murderous intent. 

🧊🔥-A loud growl shook the room. 

🧊🔥-How DARE they lay a hand on their Omega! His vision tinted red and his fangs dropped. 

🧊🔥-“This will only take a minute, Y/N. I’ll take out this trash.” He calmly said, his tone was so cold you felt yourself shiver even knowing his silent rage wasn’t directed at you.

🧊🔥-“Yes, Alpha.” You responded, making sure voice quivered a little. You may have been glaring right back at the intruders before he came but you wanted them to suffer so you played the scared Omega role. 

🧊🔥-They lost your sympathy as soon as they pulled you from your nest. 

🧊🔥-The robbers, who were frozen in fear by the intimidating Alpha’s entrance, shuffled into action. 

🧊🔥-The brunette was quick to give his partner up. “He hit her, not me!” He said, before running down the hall, looking for a way to escape. 

🧊🔥-“You fucking asshole!” The blonde shouted, trying to run out of the room as well. 

🧊🔥-He didn’t get far, ice trapped his feet and his lower body soon followed. Shoto made sure to form it in a way that sharp icicles tore at his skin if he so much as moved half an inch. 

🧊🔥-He wanted to shoot an icicle into his leg for good measure but he didn’t feel like cleaning up blood off his floor. He wished to burn the skin off his bone but you had forbidden him from using fire in the house. 

🧊🔥-He had accidentally caught one of your favorite blankets on fire and was banned for life. 

🧊🔥-“We didn’t know she was here! If we had known we wouldn’t have come!” The blond groveled, panicked at the feral look in Shoto’s eyes. 

🧊🔥-“You could have left after you saw my Omega was here, but you stayed and decided to hit her too. You should be lucky I didn’t just kill you on the spot.” He growled, cutting the blond’s cheek just a bit with an ice shard. 

🧊🔥-The blond just whimpered and passed out. Shoto was quick to hunt down the other and give him the same treatment. He had made it out of the house so he was pleased to release his burning anger out on him. 

🧊🔥-Once they were out of the way, Shoto ran to your side and burning away the binds holding you down. 

🧊🔥-“Are you okay, my Dove?” His voice was soft, his cold hand going up to your head and trying to soothe the aching bump. 

🧊🔥-“Yes, I’m just a little dizzy. Everything’s a little fuzzy right now.” You leaned into his gentle touch. 

🧊🔥-“I’ll call someone to deal with those two. Let’s get you to the hospital, my Dove.” He hurriedly lifted you and carried you to his car. He treated you like glass when he sat you down in the passenger seat. 

🧊🔥-You leaned your head against the cold window as he dashed around to the driver’s side. Your head hurt too much to look out the window so you kept your eyes closed. 

🧊🔥-Your Alpha made sure you didn’t accidentally slip asleep. 

🧊🔥-You let out a small whine when a thought crossed your mind. 

🧊🔥-“Alpha my nest is gonna smell like them.” You sniffed, opening your teary eyes to look at him. 

🧊🔥-Shoto’s hands went white on the wheel, his face contorted into a snarl. He couldn’t wait to visit them again at the station. He had friends there that wouldn’t hesitate to turn a blind eye. 

🧊🔥-His anger instantly simmered when his eyes met your glassy ones. 

🧊🔥-“Don’t worry, Little Dove. I’ll buy you more. We can even go shopping at that blanket store you like so much.” He assured, taking one hand off the wheel and clasping it in yours. 

🧊🔥-Your eyes lit up. “Really! It’s kinda expensive though, I don’t need new ones. I am sure we can find some nice second-hand ones.” You squeezed his hand, bring it up to your lips to place a kiss on it. 

🧊🔥-Your exhausted brain choosing to ignore the specks of blood on his hand. 

🧊🔥-“My Dove, what have I said about me spending money on you?” He gently reprimanded, his eyes still soft. 

🧊🔥-“Accept it and say thank you.” You repeated without delay. 

🧊🔥-“Exactly, I won’t hear any more about it.” He ended the discussion, his eyes focusing back on the road while his hand remained in your grasp. 

🧊🔥-If your head wasn’t killing you, you would have been bouncing in your seat. “I can’t wait! They are coming out with some pretty fall blankets soon! Oooh! We have to get some cute Halloween ones too!” 

🧊🔥-“Anything you want.”

Bakugo:

💥-“Why did you have to hit them!? Ground Zero is gonna come after us now!” The brunette cried, desperately holding ice to your head in hopes that the bump on it would go away. 

💥-“Shut up! Get back to robbing the damn place instead of taking care of the freaking Omega.” The blond hissed, throwing a plate at the panicked Alpha. 

💥-You sat back in the chair not knowing how to process the situation. You knew dating a Pro Hero was dangerous but you thought villains would be your main concern, not petty burglars. 

💥-“If you leave now and don’t take anything, I’ll tell him I tripped and fell.” You wouldn’t, but they didn’t know that. 

💥-“See! Let’s just leave. We can go rob some other place.” The brunette pleaded, already trying to untie you. 

💥-The Omega in you wanted to feel bad for the whining Alpha but then you remembered he messed up your nest when he dragged you out of it. You Omega was fuming. 

💥-I just got the nest just right! She huffed, pacing around in your head.  

💥-She didn’t seem threatened by the Alphas in the room. She knew her Alpha was coming home any minute and he would take care of them. 

💥-You, on the other hand, was slightly panicking now that the situation sunk in. Katsuki was gonna rip them to shreds. You Omega was already smugly licking her paws at the image, while you shuddered at the thought. 

💥-“You should go. I don’t want to be mopping up your blood all night.” You urged, looking anxiously at the door. 

💥-“See! We need to go!” The brunette cried, trying to tug his friend towards the door. 

💥-“Shut up! We can leave once we get everything valuable.” The blonde growled, shoving off his partner. 

💥-The jiggle of keys at the door made everyone in the room stop and hold their breath. The doorknob turned and the door was pushed open. You looked at the chair you were tied to, the robbers, and back at the door. 

💥-There was no way to play off the situational. I don’t want to be mopping up blood. You whined, praying your Alpha wasn’t going to go too berserk.  

💥-“Hey, Spit-fire! I got us, your favorite curry you were wanting. I made sure to get it extra spicy.” He walked in carrying a bag of takeout. 

💥-He paused in the doorway once he got a whiff of unfamiliar Alphas in the house. His ruby eyes viewed the scene before him. He growled at the sight of the two Alphas. 

💥-From your point of view, his eyes didn’t look red anymore with how big his pupils dilated at the presence of Alphas near his Omega. His hand instantly dropped the food to the floor. 

💥-The sound of the bag hitting the floor heightened the tension. 

💥-His fangs instantly dropped when his nose picked up a faint coppery smell, his eyes zeroed in on the small trail of blood on your head. The growl that ripped through his chest shook the room. 

💥-“Alpha, please, no blood in the house.” You pleaded, shifting against the ties holding you in place. 

💥-“No promises, Omega.” His voice was so dark that you didn’t even recognize it. 

💥-“The brunette didn’t hit me. He even tried to ice it. Go easy on him.” You said, knowing his control was waning. 

💥-The veins on his neck looked ready to pop, his arms straining to hold themselves still and not plummet the Alphas standing before him. He eyed the patio door that was pushed open, most likely where they entered in from. 

💥-That would solve the blood problem. 

💥-He grinned viciously, “How about we take this outside?”

💥-He rushed the two Alphas, grabbing them by the backs of their necks and throwing them out of the house and over the balcony. He laughed darkly as he followed them, jumping from the balcony. 

💥-You wiggled free from your restraints and made your way to the front door, you picked up the takeout bag and brought it to the kitchen. 

💥-“Suki will be hungry after beating those two up.” You hummed, making him a plate and then making yourself one. 

***

💥-“Is the water too hot?” His voice was raspy from all the yelling he did earlier. 

💥-You sat with your back leaning against his chest in the bathtub. The warm water and the heat of your Alpha calmed your stressed body. Being tied to a chair was as comfortable as it looked. 

💥-“It’s fine, Alpha.” You hummed, delicately washing his bruised and bloody hands. 

💥-“I’m sorry, I wasn’t here sooner Omega.” You smelled a hint of sadness in his scent. 

💥-“Don’t worry, Alpha. I knew you were coming. I wasn’t scared one bit.” You reassured, bringing his hand up and planting delicate kisses on it. 

💥-“My strong Omega,” he purred, nuzzling his nose into your hair. He flinched when he picked up the faint smell of another Alpha. He snapped up the bottle of shampoo and poured half the bottle on your head. 

💥-“Got to get this disgusting scent off you, Omega.” He growled, gently scrubbing your scalp. 

💥-“Alpha! That shampoo is fifty bucks!” You gasped, picking up the half-empty bottle. 

💥-“I’ll buy you another one.” He assured, rinsing of the soapy suds and giving your head another sniff. 

💥-“Much better.” He hummed, pulling you tighter against his chest. 

Hawks: 

🍗-“You shouldn’t be here.” You whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself, the ties preventing you from doing so. 

🍗-“Why the fuck did you have to hit them? You know I can’t handle weeping Omegas, my Alpha hates it.” The brunette growled, trying to awkwardly pat your arm. 

🍗-You winced away from his touch, another Alphas touch was too repulsive. You felt your skin crawl as his fingers grazed your arm. The thump on your head making you more nauseous than you already were. 

🍗-“So what if your Alpha is a pussy. Unlike you mine enjoys their cries.” The blond smiled at the tears dripping down your face. “The bitch deserved it anyways.”  

🍗-“Whatever.” The brunette scoffed, rolling his eyes and going back to robbing the place. 

🍗-“You guy’s really shouldn’t be here...” You tried to warm them but you were too late. The door creaked open, your heart warming and racing at the sound. You knew it would be a bloodbath once Kei realized what was going on. 

🍗-“Baby bird! I hope you are already in comfortable clothes, I’m ready to cuddle in our nest.” His soothing voice causing you to relax in the chair. 

🍗-“Alpha.” You cried, your head still throbbing. 

🍗-The silence was enough to tell you he spotted the two Alphas in the room. 

🍗-“Omega.” He growled, his eyes bleeding red, the sight of blood trailing down your head sent him into a frenzy. 

🍗-His wings puffed out, the room suddenly flooded with crimson feathers. You felt two feathers sailing your way and cutting the bonds holding you. You swiped them up in your grip and clutched them to your chest. 

🍗-The soft texture of them calming you down some. 

🍗-A feral roar sounded throughout the room. You ignored the harsh thumps coming from behind you, the sound of one of the robber’s heads getting bashed into your kitchen counter made you wince. 

🍗-You wanted to get up and get away from everything but your body was in shock and it wouldn’t let you do anything but clutch the crimson feathers to your chest. Your other hand was rested on your stomach. 

🍗-You tried to warn them. Nothing was more dangerous than someone harming a pregnant Alphas mate. You were still pretty early along so they might not have been able to smell it in your scent. 

🍗-You Alpha was sure able to, the instant he got a small whiff of it he was chirping happily against your stomach. You had a hard time getting out of his ruby wings that day. 

🍗-“You DARE harm my mate and chick!” You felt the pure rage behind his words. 

🍗-The blond was already passed out on the floor, his front teeth knocked out. The brunette was about to pass out with him, your Alpha choking him with his shirt. He made sure to use his feather to cut up his arms and face. 

🍗-His wings behind him puffing up and flapping angrily.

🍗-“Didn’t know...” The brunette slurred, his head bashed in as much as his friend’s head. 

🍗-If they wanted to hit his Omega on the head then he was all too pleased to return the favor. The brunette finally succumbed to his injures and blood loss, he went slack in Kei’s hands. 

🍗-Kei dropped him to the grown without care. 

🍗-“Pathetic.” He hissed.  

🍗-His head snapped up in your direction once he heard your tiny sniffles. He was at your side in an instant. 

🍗-“Oh, baby bird.” He cooed, lifting you from the chair and wrapping his arms and wings around you. 

🍗-“Alpha, I told them to leave.” You whined, snuggling into his chest. 

🍗-“I know, baby bird.” He soothed, breathing in your scent, checking on the baby chick in your belly. They seemed well. He was still gonna fly you to the hospital. He made his way to the balcony outside and spread his wings, without a second thought he jumped. 

***

🍗-“Don’t worry, Omega. I already ordered some new blankets. They should be here by tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind the guest bedroom for now.” He hummed, he was curled around your balled up form. 

🍗-You didn’t even build the nest surrounding you, Kei delicately dropped you down on the bed and instantly began building the nest. He would angrily chirp if you so much as lifted a finger.   

🍗-Everything was fine with you and the pup, or chick as Kei liked to call them. As soon as you arrived home Kei refused to leave your side or let you out of his sight. 

🍗-You were not to roll over on your side without his permission. 

🍗-“Thank you, Alpha.” You thanked, nuzzling your head into one of his soft wings. 

🍗-“I also called a security company, they will be here to set up a new system tomorrow.” He informed, nuzzling into your hair. 

🍗-One of his hands was tangled in your hair and the other was snugly cupping your stomach. 

🍗-“No more Alphas in the house.” You sniffled, shaking your head. 

🍗-“Of course, baby bird. I told them, beta’s only.” He reassured, kissing your head. 

🍗-“I love you, Alpha.” You whispered, almost lulled to sleep. 

🍗-“I love you, too baby bird.”  

First HC I have done in a while, also the first time writing for Hawks! What did you think of him? I hope you enjoyed it! Please be sure to leave a comment and like! I really enjoy hearing your reactions. 💕

[geminixevans-stan]

Congrats on the 1 year anniversary of your blog, friend!

I’m using the ticket you so generously sent me and giving you this prompt to write as a drabble:

You always loved ice skating so Ransom called in a favor with his buddy to get you inside an ice rink after hours. You were so excited at his thoughtful and somehow, you end up having sex with him on the Zamboni as it’s riding around. Little do you know, Ransom’s favor came with conditions…and a voyeur: Jeff Gillooly is up in the stands, jerking off at the sight of you down on the ice and he can’t wait for his turn next.

Oh sweet Soot.... You're a monster! But... here goes

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader x Jeff Gilloly

Words: 580

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit language, explicit content, smut, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, mentions of sharing, Jeff Gillooly is a disgusting warning

From Big Bad Wolf

You were warned about entertaining the likes of a Thrombey let alone a Drysdale. But after that faithful Halloween night at the Thrombey Estate, Ransom and you became inseparable. You know yourself that he would corrupt your whole world and you let him with open arms.

More like open legs…

Ransom showed you things that only the skilled could and to say Ransom was “skilled” was an understatement. After one night with him, you knew exactly why women fell to their knees for him.

But for you? It was the other way around. The minute Ransom tasted your sweet nectar, he was hooked like no other. It would be laughable to anyone else to see him be the softy that only you saw.

From romantic nights at home or a night on the town, Ransom Drysdale was all yours and he had no problem in letting the world know. He would always do these sweet things for you that may seem small to the everyone else but meant the world to you.

Which is why now you were both freezing and warm in the middle of the skating rink, skirt flipped up as you sink down on his throbbing cock over and over again. Ransom decided to make all your icy dreams come true by renting out the rink for the night.

Something that was easy for him to do since he could buy almost anything that you ever wanted. But he knew you were more of a sentimental girl and whatever he could do to make you happy, he would.

And what better way to make his girl happy than to make her fall apart in one of her favorite places. You not being much of an exhibitionist put all those fears aside the minute he surprised you with this place, you instantly fumbling with his expensive belt to take him out and properly thank him.

As the Zamboni moves across the ice slowly, Ransom has a bruising grip on your hips, pressing crescents in your skip as your hips snaps against his, feeling the impending orgasm that he’s been making you hold for what feels like hours.

A whimper escapes your lips, accompanied with his infamous chuckle at seeing you so desperate to fall apart on his cock.

“Look at you baby,” he grunts thrusting up into your quivering hole, moaning at the slippery mess your making of him, “Letting daddy fuck you in public and you don’t even care who sees.”

You let out a pathetic whine, heat spreading through your core as your glistening cunt, drips and sucks him back in with each rise of your hips.

“Hnngh!,” biting back your moans and the coil tightens, “Can’t hold it daddy. Please…”

Ransom nips at chip, tightening his grip, “Please what baby? You can beg harder than that.”

Your eyes clench close, warmth spreading up your spine, the words almost coming out of your mouth before you hear a second voice, not belonging to ransom.

You both still to see the new visitor. He wasn’t as handsome as Ransom and he had a stache that only a mother could love.

Ransom let out a frustrated sigh, flipping your skirt down, “The fuck are you doing here Gillooly? I thought I told you to get lost.”

The creepy stached man — Gillooly for now, swiped his tongue over his lips, keeping his eyes on you, “You didn’t think I wanted your money did ya, Drysdale? No… she’s payment enough…

Join the Celebration!

[ydyf]

watching horror movies with atsumu

event post for @moon-mars-ikemen

atsumu x gn! reader

a/n - this is my first time writing after a really long time and probably the first time i tried to write a gn reader, so i hope everyone enjoys it! also i’m very much open for constructive criticism so please feel free to give me advice on how to improve my writing! <3

“hey tsumu, so which movie are we going to watch tonight?”, you asked excitedly, fully enveloped by the giant fleece blanket you had brought from the bedroom to the couch.

“uhh i don’t know,,, how about ‘the nun’? i heard it’s a good comedy movie, lots of jokes and a hilarious plot, y’know?”, he lied straight through his teeth, knowing fully well you hated horror movies and, considering you had refused at all past instances, would never watch one knowingly either. in his defence though, how else was he supposed to get you snuggling close to him, flinching slightly at every jumpscare while he had an arm around your shoulders and comforted you? he had really been looking forward to showing you how ‘manly’ he was and what better time to watch a horror movie than when halloween was a mere week away?

“that’s great, i love comedy movies! c’mere, let’s sit and watch it.”, you patted the empty space next to you on the couch. feeling slightly guilty at how happy you were to watch a comedy movie, yet still adamant to make you watch a horror one instead, atsumu picked up the bowl of buttered popcorn from the kitchen island and plopped down beside you on the couch while you lifted up the fluffy blanket so he could get inside it. placing the bowl of popcorn on the blanket over his lap, he searched for the remote, turned the tv on and quickly went to netflix to put on the movie; all while you were checking your texts so you didn’t see the cover picture and get an idea as to what the genre of this movie really was. he grinned slyly and leaned back on the couch, giddy at the fact that his master plan was finally in action and he could show you how cool he was and put an end to you calling him a softie once and for all.

it was towards the middle of the movie that atsumu realised what a horrible plan this was. half of the movie had passed with a few jump scares already and you hadn’t even so much as winced. in fact, you looked like you were actually... enjoying the movie? why? for the entirety of the two years you'd been dating atsumu, you had always steered clear of horror movies, blatantly denying to watch one whenever he put forward the idea. meanwhile, here atsumu was trying his best not to let out a high pitched squeal everytime something suddenly popped up on the screen. the fact that there was no lighting in the room didn’t help his fear either. he was genuinely about to shit his pants by this time and you were completely unfazed, eyes glued to the screen as your hand had snaked over the blanket to grab another handful of the delicious popcorn out of the bowl perched on his lap. worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep up this ‘i’m fearless’ facade anymore, atsumu decided that closing his eyes whenever the background sound got particularly high pitched would be the best way out of this precarious scenario.

“hey uh t-tsumu, are yo-you really not watching the movie?”, you straight up guffawed, wiping the tears streaming down your face.

“what-i-no! of course i’m not! i was just uhhh blinking!”, he cleared his throat, trying to make his quivering voice as steady as possible.

“oh please. you’ve had your eyes closed for half of this scene. who blinks for 5 straight minutes?”, you laughed, slapping your hands against your legs.

“i do! i had something in my eye y’know…”, came the reply, with his guilty eyes focused on his twiddling fingers.

“aww, love, it’s alright to be scared. don’t worry, i’m here for you, i won’t let my little pumpkin pie ever get hurt. promise.”, you cooed in a saccharine voice, attempting to cover up your previous laughing fit by patting away on his head, trying to calm him down.

“thank y- wait y/n. weren’t you afraid of horror movies?? you should be the one scared shitless right now!”, he realised, bringing up an accusatory finger to point right at your nose.

“hmm remind me, tsumu, when did i ever say i was scared of horror movies?”, a snicker slipped past your lips as you continued ,”i always declined watching them because i knew you’d get scared and wouldn’t be able to sleep after that. plus i’m not stupid, you know? i knew you were putting on a horror movie, so i was like hey why not, maybe i’ll get to see you cry a bit. you look really cute with pink lips, nose and cheeks!”, giggling, you booped his nose gently.

“i-you know what? i just realised i’m dating a sadist. i’m breaking up with you. i can’t handle this kind of emotional torture. ”, he huffed out with puffy cheeks and folded arms.

“is this the kind of attitude you should be giving me when you’re the one who wanted to scare me?”, you pointedly inquired, right eyebrow raised for more effect.

“alright, alright don’t nag y/n. let’s just watch scary movie instead. it’s horror AND comedy so it shouldn’t be that scary right?” atsumu sighed as he unfolded his arms and opened them up for you to slip into. seeing the gesture, you flopped right into them and snuggled against his chest.

“done. anything for you, love.”, you smiled up at him.

“okay so let me just”, he lifted his eyes up to the tv,ready to change the movie already playing,” AAA WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE?!?!”. he screamed as he tried to climb onto the sofas back so abruptly that it toppled backwards, bringing you along with it. as soon as you both fell, he scrambled to his feet hastily, worry encompassing every feature of his face.

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY Y/N? DOES ANY PART OF YOUR BODY HURT?”, he hovered over your form, trying to look for any signs of injury anywhere.

Laying on the ground, laughing hysterically at how dumb your boyfriend was, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have his dumb ass all for yourself.

[midnightmoonkiss]

Oh, What A Ghost!

Ghost! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Vampire! Reader

Summary: Being a pervert gets you punished, not that he minded.

WARNINGS!: Biting, oral (male and female receiving), face riding, fingering, butt stuff, blood, voyeurism, masturbation, orgasm denial, toys, a lot of nsfw content. Sub! Izuku

Category: Smut

Word Count: 5.4k+

A/N: Did I shove as many kinks into this as I could? yeah<3 HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :) 

Just To Clarify:

They’re consenting third years (aka 18+)

There is a heiarchy but Izuku totally tears it down 

This was a fun monster!au I made up :)

It’s Halloween lmao.

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori​ @desia2​ @strwbrry-lia​

“You’re such a pervert, Izuku~”

“H-HaaaH! (L/N)..! Pl-please-! I’m- mmMM!! I’m s-ssorry-!”

“Is that so?”

To be honest, you never thought this would happen, never thought you’d be given the opportunity to make a move on your crush in such a.. bold and licentious fashion.

He did have it coming, though, considering you caught him red handed.

Ghosts were always so sneaky and aberrant, their ability to walk or float through walls and turn invisible offering a plethora of possibilities for activities, both good and bad. You didn’t expect such an ‘innocent’ and kind boy to partake in such activities that his race was known for, and yet, you weren’t all that surprised when you found out that he lived up to the stereotype.

Then again, most monsters did.

It was mostly inevitable, after all.

Just like how ghosts were perverts, vampires were sadists. And that’s exactly what you were.

Poor little Izuku, he had no idea the true trouble he got himself into, and on such a respected night as well.

Halloween.

October 31st.

The holiday was bigger than any other, the entire island, or at least the participating parts, went all out with decorations every year.

From lights to festivals, everyone went nuts.

It was the day that worshipped the supernatural, after all.

In a world where humans and creatures, previously thought as myths, coexist, humans have always overpopulated the monsters, and so schools built just for them popped up all over the globe. The one you and your dear friend, Midoriya, attended happened to be the most famous one, known for using monsters ability to fight against those who used it for wrong. It truly was thrilling, and it saved those previously in public schools from the bullying that occured all too much.

The school, UA, was like a pot of stew, all kinds of monsters mixing together. Werewolves, witches, wizards, zombies, vampires, ghosts, and so many more. Though, most typically stuck with their own group, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to branch out, just like how you were friends with a ghost and a zombie.

It took society a long time to accept monsters, and some still dont, but who needs them anyway, right?

Besides, to you, monsters were much more fun, especially when vampires and sirens were considered the top of the hierarchy.

Ghosts, ghouls, and zombies were at the bottom, their power not all that great, but vampires and sirens, alongside werewolves, were at the very top, the most well respected and feared monsters.

Though you were looked down on by your fellow vamps by befriending a ghost, you couldn’t care less.

As months flew by, and two school years came and went, you found yourself falling madly in love with the man who captivated you.

If he didnt float and walk through walls sometimes, you wouldve assumed he was a different class from how he held himself, strong, and not weak and defenseless.

You loved it.

But there was always something that made you question him sometimes, how he’d disappear without saying a word, how he’d be flustered around you one day and not the next. It was strange, but you never looked into it.

Little did you know, the dirty little ghost was up to absolutely no good.

His.. habit manifested out of fear, ever since that summer camp that occurred the first year, and he saw how badly wounded you were, he grew protective of you, even if you were miles ahead of him in strength. He’d check up on you somtimes, turning invisible and poking his head in through your dorm room window.

He knew it was wrong, peeking into a girls room- at night.. but.. he couldnt help himself.

He swore he would stop, but he never did.

One day, he happened to catch you.. doing quite a lewd act. He knew in his gut he shouldve floated away, to not be a peeping tom, but his large green eyes were glued to your perfect body, and how your fingers dipped in and out of your wet flesh with a squelch and moan that made his virgin cock twitch in his shorts.

Was it wrong to grab his dick, bucking into his hand as he watched you get off to an audio?

Maybe.. 

No, it definitely was!

But you.. you were so!!

So hot!

He lost count of the amount of times he’s cum on his hand watching you cum on your own, far too many.

But he slipped up today, let a moan escape past his hand and suddenly your ruby red eyes met his own.

He knew you couldnt see him, but he knew that you knew he was there!!

You smirked, showing off your sharp fangs, “Izuku.”

The pure shock he felt from hearing you say his name made him manifest into thin air on accident, collapsing to his knees as ghost costume covered his indecency.

There was a Halloween party tonight, and he dressed up as his race thinking it was funny- but it wasn’t really funny anymore.

And so, that led him to where he was now, willingly beneath your naked body glistening with sweat from the full moons silvery light pouring in through the window as you ground your bare pussy against his sensitive cock.

You pinned his arms above his head, your hungry gaze boring into his soul, he couldnt deny how hot it was, or how true your words were.

He was a pervert.

“Y-yes!” He cried out, tears pricking at his eyes from the embarrassment he felt at being caught, “I’m s-sorry..!”

His breath caught in his throat when you leaned down, your face hovering over his own.

“Mmm.. I don’t know if I can believe you, ‘Zuku.. How can I know you’re really sorry?”

You batted your eyes at him, pouting, such a devious thing to do.

“I-I’ll do a-anything t- haaahh.. nn.. t-to prove it..!”

He was so cute.

“Anything?” You pondered.

“Yes-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and you couldnt help but grin when he moaned against you.

This kiss turned into another, and another, and soon you were finally making out with him. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but eventually you both fell into a rhythm, him whimpering each time you rolled your hips against him.

Swiping a tongue over his quivering bottom lip, he eagerly opened his mouth, just for you to invade his maw, greedily sucking his sweet tongue into your mouth, causing him to give in and buck up against your sopping warmth, giving your clit delicious friction.

“Mm-!”

Pulling away, his mouth chased your own for a second, “H-hah-! (L/N)!”

Pressing a finger to his plump lips, you pushed his head back down against your pillow.

“Say.. you wouldn’t mind if we’re a little late to the party, would you?” You smiled coquettishly down at the squirming boy covered in scars and freckles.

Gulping rather loudly, he shook his head, eyes wide and face burning red, his hormones going wild. How could he say no, when his crush was rubbing her naked self against him and enjoying it?

He would be a fool, a damn fool to say no, he wanted it too much. He wanted you, and he would say just about anything, do anything you wanted, to have you.

“Mm~ Good boy.” The praise went straight to his gut, butterflies forming and going wild inside him, making his hands clammy.

Reaching over, you dug around the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out a pair of red and black leather handcuffs that matched your curtains and rug.

Izuku let out a whine as his wrists were cuffed to the bed, giving in immediately.

“Bad boys don’t get to touch.” You teased, tapping his nose and watching as it wrinkled.

But this just meant you couldn't get his shirt and ghost sheet off, not that you particularly minded. You didn't need him completely naked.

Fulling slipping off him, you watched for a moment as his cock twitched, begging for you to come back to it. 

It made you giggle, and he flushed like a cherry.

Sauntering over to your closet, swaying your hips in a hypnotic way Izuku couldn’t ignore, you dug around, soon finding the glittery box you were looking for and pulling it out, showing it to him with a cheeky grin.

“W-whats in that.. (L/N)..?”

“(Y/N).”

“Huh?”

“Call me (Y/N), love.”

“O-oh…” Biting his lip, he looked conflicted for a split second, clearly inwardly debating if it was okay, before stuttering out your first name, only adding to the joy you felt.

Flipping the light switch off, your red fairy lights hung around the room made it glow crimson, your favorite color, especially on him.

The red glow made the atmosphere that much more romantic and sexy, his eyes reflecting the colors. It was like you were in the red light disctric in a dirt cheap hookup hotel, about to fuck your boyfriend who insisted upon not getting caught. How utterly disgraceful, and yet the thought excited you.

Setting the box down beside him on the bed, you sat at the bottom of the mattress, in front of his sock covered feet, noting how his hips wiggled impatiently and how he looked away with his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Still so shy despite you rubbing yourself on him earlier.

“Look at me, darling.” You purred, dragging your nails up his leg to catch his attention.

Hesitantly, he turned his head, nervous eyes meeting your own.

It was rare that he saw them so red, the signature sign of a hungry vampire. They were captivating, and he found himself diving into their depths, drowning in you without you even touching him.

Placing your hands on his knees, you spread his legs apart, eliciting a mouse-like squeak from him. 

Even with his pants on, he felt so bare..

His heart jumped to his through when you gripped the hem of his pants and boxers, “Mind if I take these off?”

How polite of you..

He nodded his head, unruly green locks bouncing as he did so, squeezing his eyes shut.

“GAH” He screeched when you suddenly used your vampiric speed to pull them both down quickly and toss them so fast to the other side of the room that they slapped against the wall like a wet fish.

He was stunned, staring blankly at them, about to question it when he was cut off with a guttural groan, your lips suddenly wrapping around the tip of his weeping cock.

“H-hah-! A-ah! (L/-)- I me-an (Y/N-N)—! Wh-! MMMM!! Oh!!”

Despite your own mess covering his member, which definitely delighted you, you could still taste the salty precum dripping out as your tongue licked over his slit, his back arching from the stimulation.

He couldnt help but buck up pathetically with a mewl,  only to have his hips pinned down to the mattress with one of your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah~” You whispered against his tip, piercing eyes cutting into his skin like a poisonous knife as you dared him to fight against your hold.

He gulped, accepting his fate with a shaky breath.

Content with his obedience, you licked along the underside of his cock, savoring his musky flavor.

“Hnn! Hoahh..”

He was so.. vocal.. even with the slightest touch, you’d get a reaction out of him. It was fascinating, and only made you want to see how much more you could pull from him before he lost the ability to speak a coherent sentence.

Slipping his member back into your mouth, you swirl the tip of your tongue around his bulbous, flushed head, reaching up to grab the discarded lube you had left on your bed, 

“MmMm! O-oh..! My G-gosh..! Haa-!”

Squirting some of the clear jell-like liquid on your palm, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, smiling when he jumped, just to start pumping you fist up and down.

“G-GAaAh! Oh, (Y/N).!”

He himself found it hard to not thrash around from the intense pleasure he was feeling at the moment.

He couldnt help the drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as you began to bob your head up and down his member whilst simultaneously twisting your hand up and down his shaft, squeezing in places that made his mind go blank for a second.

He just felt so good!

It was so much different from pleasuring himself!

He had no control over his ecstasy, no control over how fast or how slow you went, and he loved it-!

“HyAAh!” He cried out like a girl when you suddenly deepthroated him, his tip pressing down your throat as you wet mouth squeezed and sucked on him like your favorite lollipop.

His hips fought against your hold as his head flung back, tears pricking at his eyes as you sucked him for all he was worth, his poor, over sensitive cock.

“O-OH! Oh, NnnNGH!! HaaA ! AAaaAh! (Y-Y/N)..!!!”

His handcuffs clinked together as his body began to shake, a warm feeling spreading in his lower stomach as his muscular thighs began to tense.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, out of nowhere, intense, and electrifyingly cosmic.

His hazy green eyes rolled back, tongue flopping from his mouth as white hot and tangy cum squirted from his dick down your throat.

You greedily sucked it down around him, causing his entire body to jerk and twitch, cries and babbles fleeing past his spit-slick lips, the oversensitivity making his nerves burn in an oh-so good way.

Popping off his softening cock, you crawled back up his body, staring down at his cute, chubby, sleepy face.

You pinched his cheeks, pulling at it, successfully catching his attention and making his darkened eyes focus on you.

“O-oh-!” He stuttered,  face burning impossibly hotter as he watched you seemingly savor his flavor with lidded eyes.

“We’re not done yet, Izuku.” 

Your statement made him freeze like a deer in front of headlights. What else was there to do?

He already came.. oh!

Wait!

“Y-you didn’t.. c-cum..” He bashfully averted his gaze as you nodded, gears turning in his head again as he recovered from his high.

He knew exactly what you wanted.

“You know, you have such a soft and adorable face,”

“Wh-“

“Do you mind if I sit on it?”

Was this your way of asking him to eat you out?!

How bold!

How could you be so bold! 

Despite being nervous, he nodded his head, smiling giddily.

He had watched plenty of videos, had taken a plethora of notes, and even, as weird as it was, practiced on multiple fruits.

He was nearly positive he could please you.

He wanted to.

He needed to, to hear your own sweet moans caused by him.

He wanted that so bad.

Without thinking, he opened his mouth, eyebrows pinching together as he stared pleadingly up at you with his tongue out and ready to please.

He was such a good boy.

Standing up on your knees, you walked forward, your dripping pussy soon hovering over the excited boys mouth.

Lowering yourself, your thighs wrapping around his head, you were immediately met with an eager tongue lapping at your dripping folds.

“Oh~! My, s-someones enthusiaststic-!”

Bracing up urself on your hands and knees. You made sure not to suffocate the poor man as he rapaciously ate you out, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth and giving it much needed attention.

“Haaaah.. Izuku..! You’re such a good boy for me, eating my mm.. pussy like its your dinner!” You gasped, fingers threading through his messy green locks, pulling at them just to feel the vibrations of his moans against your clit.

You bucked against his mouth, riding his tongue and grinding down against his teeth.

“Mm-mmh! Hnmm…” His moans were muffled, wet licks filling the room.

He could feel your juices dripping down his chin as he was willingly smothered with your womanhood, completely trapped under you and beyond happy to obey.

His tongue dragged over your pretty pink labia, prodding at and slipping into your clenching entrance, slurping up your mess.

He could eat you out all day and never get tired, he was sure of it!

And your noises of pleasure were heavenly.. music to his straining ears. And the way you combed through his hair, he somehow felt like this was just as good as cumming, making someone else feel good..

But you suddenly lifted off his face, his tongue still moving for a second before he stared up at you with childish confusion.

His face was red and covered in your liquids, a true mess.

Chucking, you leaned back, wrapping your hand around his cock that sprung to life over the course of his meal, “I want to cum on your cock, Izu.”

Your dirty words made his heart jump and his member twitch in your grasp.

“P-please..” Though he knew he was going to get just that, he couldnt help but beg, it felt like he was supposed to, or that he had to- for himself just as much as for you.

“But first..” you trailed off, finally reaching into the box and pulling out multiple things that made him involuntarily buck impatiently into thin air.

In your hands, you held egg vibrators, a black cock ring, and a red ribbed vibrating dildo.

He gulped audibly once more, and you were positive if he were a werewolf, his tail would be wagging with those hearts in his eyes.

“Do you know what these are?”

He nodded his head. Gaze trained on them as you fiddled with the devices.

“Have you any idea what I’ll be doing with them?”

He shook his head, innocently smiling at you, the cheeky shit. 

“How about I show you?”

With that, you lubed up your finger, diving between his legs, pressing against his clenching hole, circling around it.

“H-haah..” His heart was pounding so hard it felt like he was at a concert as your finger slowly pushed in his tight hole.

“Nngh!” His cheek pressed against the pillow at the weird feeling of someone entering his body in such a way.

You finger thrusted in and out of him slowly, feeling around his warm, gummy walls for a certain button you knew he would enjoy having pushed.

His thighs were splayed wide for you, cock resting on his toned tummy covered by a white sheet.

You could only hope he didnt ruin his costume with how much he was leaking. He certainly had a sloppy dick.

Leaning down, you pressed kisses to his freckled inner thigh, pushing in a second finger and watching in amusement as he slowly got into it, embracing the feeling of being filled with your digits.

It wasnt long before you managed to fit in a third finger, grinning at how his ass practice swallowed them, “God, Izuku.. your ass is so greedy for my fingers, you keep sucking them back in~”

“A-aah! (Y/N)!! D-don’t say such-!! Nnghnn! Lewd th—things!”

“Hmm… I wonder… where is that pesky little spot..”

“W-what-? AH! H-AahAh! NGHH! Oh-oH! F-FaH! FuCk!”

“Bingo.”

You finally located his prostate, giving it no mercy as you aimed your fingers to press against it with each time you pushed and curled them inside him.

But from his thighs tensing beneath your lips and his cock twitching, you knew he was close again, and that was no good.

“A-AAaaAh! I’m!! I’m g-gonna! C-cu- hAh?!”

You pulled your fingers out, wiping the lube onto the sheets below you as he wiggled like a worm on the sidewalk, desperately bucking his hips and begging for you to give him more.

“Oh, I will..” Smirking over at him again, the glint in your eyes made him moan and feel like prey. You, a lioness on the prowl, and him, a mouse with nowhere to hide, completely bare for you, “But not just yet, baby. This is a punishment, after all.”

Though he was embarrassed at first with having his thighs spread so wide open, exposing every intimate part of himself to you, he didnt feel too shy anymore. You didnt judge him at all, in fact, you swallowed him whole. It was mind numbingly pleasant, and he never thought he would ever get to experience this, not even in his dreams.

For it to come true.. and to find out you were a kinky lady.. he was enthralled. 

Leaning up, you captured his lips in a kiss again, giving him time to calm down as you once again molded your lips together in a lustful heat.

He learned quick, his kisses becoming lasting as he met your pace with wet smacks and tongues brushing against eachother. His own passed over your fangs, and you both shivered when a drop of blood entered your mouth.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes practically glowing in the red light of the room as you tasted him. He surely had the best blood you had even tasted before, nothing at all like how ghosts usually taste! They were bland and boring, but him-! He was nectareous and saporous. 

“Fuck, Izu.. you taste so.. magnificent..”

You licked his tongue again, holding onto that single drop of blood for as long as you could, his flavor making you keen with delight.

His lips parted to speak, but he was once again cut off with a lewd moan as you shoved the dildo halfway into his readily awaiting ass.

“GuaAh! W-wait!! It’s..! Too much!” He panted heavily, tears streaming down his cheeks from how good the vibrating phallic shaped object felt inside of him, almost like it was mixing his insides up like a blender.

“Mm, should I? You look like you’re enjoying this, Zuzuku.”

“Mmm..!! H-aAAaA..!”

Pushing further into him, you got the entire toy burried deep in his walls, pulling it back out, fucking him with the plastic object.

His thighs were spread so wide he feared they’re snap off at the hip as he rocked his ass on the toy, vision hazy as continue to cry out.

“HAAAAHH!! AAAH..!”

He screamed when the toy pressed against his button, pounding against it and making his legs turn to mush as he bucked so hard his heavy cock bobbed in thin air, slapping down against his stomach continuously.

Just when his eyes were rolling back again and his jaw was lax, about to cum, you pulled the toy out, “(Y/N)!!”

He sobbed in frustration, desperation building inside him to cum, even going as far as to try and drag you back with his legs.

“You cant cum yet, Izuku! We havent even used all these fun vibrators yet!” You held up the three vibrators with one hand, an all too innocent smile plastered on your face whilst he looked completely wrecked.

“M-mmh! B-but-!”

Not giving him time to talk, you grasped his leaking cock, pumping it a few times, watching as he tried to fuck into the tunnel you created. 

Grabbing the black cock ring, you stretch it on his awaiting member as he whines, knowing full well he cannot cum with such a device on. It would be torturous, but he was being punished after all, even if he had aready cum and his mind was turning to goo, he still remembered that. Of course you would make it so he couldnt cum again.

Taking the vibrators, you taped them around him, one snug just under his slit, and two against his sensitive spots.

Turning them on, his back arched impossibly high off the bed with a wail, involuntarily fucking up into the air from the intense stimulation.

Content, you sat back, pushing the vibrator in again and turning it on. 

You swore he was going crazy as he let out garbled moans, “G-guAAh! F-fucgh!! NAAh! Mm! Yo-ou.! Youguhhh..! MmeaaAAh!”

He was finally incoherent, steams of tears pouring from his eyes nearly consumed by his pupil, trying to fuck himself onto the vibrator and fuck into air.

He was a slobbering mess, body twitching and convulsing like a possessed child, your name spilling from his lips and muddling with other words on a praise.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Izuku… so wrecked and horny.. my little cum baby.. I bet you wanna cum, huh?”

Your hand slipped between your own thighs, slowly rubbing your clit as you got off to the gorgeous view before you.

Sweet and innocent Izuku Midoriya, the nerd of class 3A, your best friend who always helped others before himself, driven mad with pleasure, practically going insane- all by your doing.

It made you feel even more powerful than you already were.

Hearing a wet squelching, his curious gaze traveled to you, moaning heartily once he saw you fucking your pussy with your fingers, all while gazing at him with such a smolder he felt he was going to burn up. Hell, he already was burning up.

He felt hotter than the sun, and so ready to burst at the seams, but he couldnt.

“M-misstress! Pl-ehHAH.!! NHh! RidehuAh! Me..!”

What did he just say?

“Say that again, Izuku,”

“R-rAhIde-!”

“No, no, sweetheart,”

You pulled your fingers from yourself with a wet pop, pressing your hands to his sides and feeling him up under his shirt, gazing into his own once more, “before that.”

“Mmm..! Misss.. tress! H-haH.! Nnhgh..!”

Mistress. Now theres a word you never thought would fill you with joy.

Licking your lips, you decided enough was enough.

Grabbing his cock, you pull the vibrators off of him, immediately hovering yourself over him and sitting down with a hearty hum until he bottom out inside you with a cry of pleasure.

“GuAAAH!! (Y/N)!!! You’re!! So-!! NnnGh!! Mmmh! So tight-! Hahh..!” The vibrator still in his ass mixed up his insides, turning them into a liquid as you began to bounce on him like a trampoline.

He felt so good he didnt know what to do anymore, words he couldn’t comprehend bubbled past his parted lips, an onslaught of tears pouring from his ducts, pins and needles stabbing him everywhere in such a good way as he was overstimulated to the max.

Your walls hugged him like a vice, so warm and cozy, he wanted to be buried inside you all day.!

Inside you.. he was inside you!

You were fucking him so good-!

A smile made its way to his wrecked face, tongue hanging out of his mouth, sweat making his hair stick everywhere, he was connected with you…

He loved it.

And you loved him, that smile on his face warming your heart, but that familiar thirst stung the back of your throat, and your eyes were hyper focused on his neck covered in a blush and freckles.

His own cock was so big you felt like you were being stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, but that wasnt enough to take your attention away.

Collapsing against his chest covered in clothing, you buried your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as the vibrations of his ecstasy rumbled in his chest and sung in your ears.

His scent overwhelmed you, made you delirious as you couldnt help but lick at his neck, nibbling and pulling at the skin.

His head lolled to the side, “bite— h-Huah! aaAH! Nnghhh!! MmMMmmhh! Bi-aAh-te! Me!!”

Bite him..? He was? Okay with it?

Well..

If he said to…

Your fangs sunk into his skin, blood spurting into your mouth and making your hips move inhumanly fast, he was so good..! Your eyes rolled back as you greedily sucked, his moans growing chopped, stuttered and louder.

He was slowly turning translucent beneath you as your fangs sunk into him again, and again, and again, blood flowing down your mouth like a delicious waterfall, savory and sweet, honeydew pine forest.

Blood smeared his skin growing more clear with each second as he lost his grip with reality.

“NgGHH! HAAAAAH!! MISTRuhUuESS! HAA-Ah!!”

The bed began to creak beneath you, your bounces growing more and more powerful as you felt yourself grow closer to sweet release, the blood pulling you higher up the mountain of ecstasy,

Suddenly, there was a loud snap, and a copious amount of thick cum filled your pussy, stuffing you even more to the point your belly had a small bulge from his cum. The feeling made you clamp down on him and cum with your own cries of pleasure mingling with his, fire exploding behind your vision as lighting shot down your body.

The bed suddenly broke beneath your bodies, but you were both too lost in ecstasy to even care, crying out eachothers names.

You collapsed on top of him completely, and it was then you noticed you couldn't see him at all, entirely invisible.

Catching your breath, you stared on in confusion, fleeing up his body but unable to see it.

“I-Izuku??”

No answer.

Had he passed out?

“Izu-?”

You’d feel around for a heart beat if he had one, but he didnt, no undead monster did.

Taking a deep breath, cheeks flushed and skin sweaty, you sat up, Izukus now flaccid cock pulling out with a wet pop, his cum immediately flowing messily down your thighs. 

He mustve had a pretty fucking intense orgasm if the damn cock ring snapped. Who’s ever heard of that happening before? Certainly not you.

Given a minute, you uncuffed his invisible wrists and pulled the vibrator from his ass, turning it off and tossing it to the sheets.

Geeze.. what a mess…

Checking the time from your alarm clock, you were now 34 minutes late for the ghoultastic party being thrown in the school.

Oh well.

If Izuku was a human, you were sure he wouldve died from the blood loss by now, but being undead certainly gave more leeway for fun activities.

Sitting back, you gathered his spare blood on your fingers sucking them into your mouth and savouring his taste. God, you could get used to something this good.

It was like his blood had nicotine in it, you were instantly hooked.

By the time Izuku woke up, he was fully wiped down, dressed, and practically ready to go.

It was clear to him you had cleaned things up, but how long had he been out for?! How embarrassing! He even lost control of his invisibility! Ugh.. you must think he’s a toddler… only kids lose control!!

“You okay?” Your honey sweet voice caught his attention, eyes snapping to the other side of the room where you emerged from the bathroom.

“O-oh! (Y-Y/N).. I.. um.. I’m okay..” He felt so awkward now.. would you pretend nothing happened? Ignore him? Tell everyone he was.. a peeping tom? 

He wanted to believe you were the nicest person out there but he was so terrified of you shunning him, even after such.. licentious activities.

Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure how to act right now, after having s-sex with you. He felt clammy and nervous.

“You look pale,” you chuckled, grasping his cheeks and pulling them so he’d be distracted.

You noticed that look in his eyes, and knew it well. Self doubt. You wouldnt accept that.

“Hahah… well, I am a ghost..“

Your lips pressed against his, for the thousandth ime that night, but he didnt mind.

Sighing out his nose, he relaxed into the innocent kiss with a small smile.

You cupped his face when you pulled away, admiring him.

“Hey.. your eyes are (e/c) again!” And just like that, his face lit up, “Well, I did have a nice dinner.” Your tone was playful, yet he couldnt help but burn with a fresh blush, rubbing at his neck where no doubt a bunch of bite marks laid.

“Quite a delicious one too,”

“(Y/N)!!”

Sitting down on his thighs, you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders, nuzzling your cheek against his, “How does your ass feel?”

“GAH!” He wrapped his arms around his head, leaning forward as practical steam came from his ears from how embarrassed he suddenly was. What a nice change of scenery.

“Hm?” He was clearly a virgin after all, you wanted to make sure he could walk.

“I-it’s… okay..”

Pecking his warm, freckled cheek, you hopped off him, diving into your closet again and pulling out a basic vampire costume, one you had purchased days before at a costume shop.

Izukus heart leaped in his chest, “You had.. the s-same idea as me?”

You nodded your head, easily slipping the attire on in front of the flushed boy, “I guess we can go as a goofy couple!”

He felt warm, so very, very warm. How you accepted him after catching his perverted act, he had no idea. All he knew was this warmth was something he wouldnt mind getting used to, monsters werent known for being warm, after all.

“Yeah.. that sounds nice.”

Here’s hoping no one spiked the punch.

[get-your-fics]

Oh No!

Summary: You unexpectedly catch the eye of a psychopath when you stand up for yourself.

Pairing: Jerome Valeska x reader

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: Non-con fingering, blood, reader is in high school but is 18, kidnapping, possessive behavior, language

A/N: happy halloween! this is a fic i had written a while back that i edited A LOT. hope you enjoy :)

"Score, Gotham, score! We want more!" you chanted along with your fellow cheerleaders at the top of your lungs, rustling your maroon and white pom poms to the rhythm. "Hit 'em where it hurts and knock 'em to the floor!"

The bus erupted in a series of whoops and hollers, the excitement for the upcoming game palpable in the air. The bus driver glared at the cheerleaders in the rearview mirror. "Sit down!" he shouted.

You did as you were told and returned to your seat, the other cheerleaders mimicking you. You sat closest to the aisle next to a girl named Isabella Green. She was relatively quiet and kept to herself, but your time on the squad together had opened her up to you, and you ended up becoming close friends over the years.

“Ready for the game to be over?” she asked with a roll of her eyes.

You playfully bumped your shoulder into hers. “Stop! It’s the last game of senior year. Try to enjoy it while it lasts?”

She forced out a wry laugh. “That’ll be hard to do with Peyton breathing down my neck.” She glared in the direction of the ruthless cheer captain loudly chatting with her friends at the front of the bus.

You opened your mouth to come to Peyton’s defense when the blare of a car horn cut you off. The bus lurched to a stop, nearly throwing you and Isabella out of your seat. You gripped the back of the seat in front of you to steady yourself. You whipped your head forward to look out the windshield and saw a red truck with the words “HEST OIL” on the side blocking the bus’s path. You rose slightly out of your seat and peered above the other confused cheerleaders’ heads to get a better look at what was going on.

Three figures piled out of the truck wearing white straitjackets. One of them scrambled to get the door on the driver’s side of the truck and yanked on the handle. It swung open, and he stood at attention as the final member of the group emerged from the truck.

A tall boy of about nineteen with fiery, red hair hopped out of the truck. Judging by the confidence he exuded and the way the others regarded him, it was clear he was the leader of their little group. You couldn’t help but notice that he was attractive. He had a boyish charm to him, but any appreciation you had for his appearance dissipated when his lips stretched into a menacing smile that sent shivers down your spine like ice had been poured down the back of your uniform.

As the four men made their way over to the bus, you seemed to realize at the same time the rest of your squad did who they were: the Maniax, the recently escaped inmates of Arkham Asylum who were wreaking havoc all over Gotham City. The footage of them mercilessly murdering people by throwing them off of a building had played nonstop on the news, so it was impossible not to recognize them.

The cheerleaders exchanged weary glances, and the unnerving silence that had fallen over the bus was pierced by hushed, frantic whispers. The redhead skipped over to the bus gleefully, spinning and sliding as he came to a stop in front of the glass door like a dancing child. He stared the bus driver dead in the eye as he tapped the gun in his hand against the glass in a signal for him to open the door.

Screams arose from the group once they realized exactly what kind of trouble they were in for, piercing your ears. You, on the other hand, had the complete opposite reaction: you became paralyzed, every muscle in your body freezing up as the gravity of the situation hit you like a freight train. You felt impossibly cold, and your mind could only comprehend five words: I am going to die.

Reluctantly, the bus driver gave in, his finger hovering over the button before eventually pressing it. You knew there wasn’t much else he could do, but you still couldn’t help but feel betrayed. The door opened with a rush of air, and a pleased grin spread across the redhead’s face.

He skipped up the steps and paused at the top of the stairs. He leaned down and swiftly seized the driver by his collar. He yanked him out of his seat and sent him hurtling down the stairs. He tumbled out of your view, but a second later, a gunshot rang outside, earning several yelps from the group. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut tightly.

Panic spread throughout the bus like wildfire as cheerleaders leapt out of their seats. They rushed towards the different exits, shoving and pushing each other like animals. The redhead immediately put a stop to this behavior, however, by raising his gun in the air and firing one shot at the ceiling. The blast echoed throughout the interior of the bus, and everyone froze where they were. The attempted escapees slowly returned to their seats, watching him with fearful, anxious eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

The redhead grinned. "Ladies," he glanced at the few male cheerleaders, furrowing his brow, "and gentlemen," his momentary confusion subsided, and his eerie smile returned to his face, "stay where you are, or else that won't be the only time I shoot."

You swallowed the urge to scream and reached for Isabella’s shaky hand. She intertwined her fingers with yours, gripping tightly. You glanced at her face. Her eyes were red, and tears streamed down her cheeks, taking bits of mascara with them. Her glossy lips were pursed into a thin, quivering line, and you could tell she was choking back sobs. You gave her clammy hand a reassuring squeeze, although you were freaking out internally just as much she was.

The three other psychos boarded the bus and joined the redhead’s side. "Boys," he commanded, grinning out at the cheerleaders sinisterly, "cuff 'em."

The men smiled and stared at the group like predators stalking their prey. They went row by row, handcuffing cheerleaders to their seats while their hostages resisted the urge to protest, stifling sobs and weeping silently.

A man with untamed curly hair was the one to approach where you were sitting. He leaned over you to handcuff Isabella first before turning to you. When you didn’t offer him your hands, he roughly tugged on your wrists and chained them to the seat. You narrowed your eyes at him until they were slits. If looks could kill, he certainly would’ve been six feet under.

He pulled away from you and met your deadly gaze. His lips pulled back to form an evil grin, and you noticed with disgust that his teeth were yellow, sharpened points like a shark’s. It only lasted a second before he moved onto the next row in a flash, and you watched him go, your gut churning with revulsion.

You didn’t know what had changed within you, but suddenly you were no longer racked with anxiety. All you could feel now was disdain and hatred for these men, these murderers who were torturing you and your friends for their perverse enjoyment.

After everyone was handcuffed, two of the men exited the bus while the curly-haired one stayed alongside the redhead. He guarded the door to make sure no one else tried anything while the redhead stood at the front of the bus.

"I want you all to know," the redhead paced down the middle of the aisle, his footsteps loud like claps of thunder in the otherwise quiet bus, "this was a very difficult decision for us." He approached the seat where Peyton was cowering in the corner. "It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party."

He aimed his gun at her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her teeth sank into her lower lip so aggressively you thought she would split the skin, and you could tell she was trying her best to remain quiet. He pulled his gun away, chuckling at her reaction.

"In the end, we decided to skew a little younger.” He moved away from her and continued down the aisle like a shark circling the water. “Youth won the day. Sorry.” He faked an apologetic pout, although it didn’t seem sincere in the slightest. He returned to his place at the front of the bus and shouted, "Give me an O!"

Your brow furrowed in confusion. The cheerleaders jerked in their restraints, trying uselessly to break free. You thought you heard a few people plead, "Please, let us go!"

The amused expression dropped from the redhead's face, and he raised his gun to the ceiling again. He fired, the booming gunshot piercing the air and catching you off guard. Those around you shrieked before growing quiet.

"I said,” he gritted his teeth, “'give me an O!'"

"O!” you and the others repeated after him.

"Give me an N!”

"N!”

"Give me another O!" he cheered with imbued enthusiasm.

"O!” you stuttered out, your voice wavering and unreliable.

"What does that spell?" he asked, smiling wildly.

You all chanted together in unison, "Oh, no!”

The curly-haired man handed him a hose, which the redhead gladly took. A mysterious liquid spouted from the nozzle, and he aimed the stream at the cheerleaders in the seats closest to him. It took a second for the putrid odor to reach your nose, but when it did, you identified it as gasoline. Your eyes went wide as you realized his intentions.

He’s going to light the bus on fire.

The redhead walked up and down the aisle, dousing the entire bus in gasoline. He made sure to spray it directly in some people’s faces, delighting as they panicked and sputtered from being hit with the harsh blast head on. He sprayed the hose above your seat and those around you in a large arc, and drops splattered off the windows and falling down upon you like acid rain.

You found that the gasoline lubricated your hands just enough that when you contorted them (probably injuring them in the process), you were able to slip them out of the handcuffs. It took quite a bit of effort, but once you were freed, you hid your hands between your knees out of the redhead’s view. The skin around your wrists was red and raw from the metal cuffs digging into them.

You started to hastily throw together a plan in your mind. There had to be something you could do to save your friends. Escaping obviously wasn't an option; the curly-haired man was still standing guard at the door. Getting help wasn't a viable choice either, in case you alerted the redhead that you were free. The only thing there was left to do was to face the redhead straight on. Although you could be killed in the process, you would take your chances. It wasn’t like sitting there obediently would change that outcome anyway.

The redhead passed by your seat, and when his back was to you, you sprang up and launched yourself at him. You landed on his back, a cry falling from your parted lips. Your surprise attack threw him off balance, and he grasped at the backs of the seats around him to steady himself. The cheerleaders around you stared at you with wide eyes and slack jaws. You instinctively grabbed onto his hair, attempting to tear out tufts of red orange as you sunk your teeth into his neck without thinking. You felt the bared skin break and something wet seep out from around your teeth.

He yelled out in anguish as you marred his alabaster flesh. In one swift movement, he leaned forward, sliding you off of his back, and you hit the floor with a solid thud. Every bone in your body ached, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for air.

You groaned in pain, squeezing your eyes shut, and when you opened them, you were staring down the barrel of a gun. You raised your gaze a little higher and locked eyes with the redhead staring down at you.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the bus. You studied his angered expression, his tense brow and lips pulled back over his teeth in a sneer. But as quickly as it had appeared, his countenance softened into one of shock. You imagined what you must look like. The copper taste of his blood was still on your tongue and surely smeared across your lips like rouge, the same blood dribbling out of the bite on his neck and staining his otherwise pristine straitjacket.

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, like you were the only two people on the bus. Those around you held their breath, anxiously fidgeting and waiting in anticipation for what would happen next. Then, his lips slowly curled into a smile.

"You," he began slowly, "got out of your handcuffs, then had the audacity to attack me?"

You blinked at him. You didn’t get a chance to respond as manic, crazy laughter bubbled from his lips. You winced while the redhead doubled over, slapping his knee. The sound made your skin crawl, and from the looks on the faces of the cheerleaders around you, it had the same effect on them as well. He wiped away a stray tear rolling down his cheek as his cackling ceased. He shook his head at you, the gun still trained between your eyes.

"You, you are crazy. I like you already." He took a step closer and towered over you until his face was mere inches from yours. "You're coming with me, princess."

Before you had time to register the weight of his words, he wrapped his arms around your waist and threw you over his shoulder. He spun around and started marching towards the exit. You heard cries of your name, and you looked up to see Isabella staring after you with glassy eyes and trying to rise out of her seat.

Gasoline dripped down the stairs as the redhead hopped down them, forming a puddle on the pavement. You shrieked, beating your fists against his back and kicking wildly, although your assault didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. Once he was off the bus, he tossed the hose aside carelessly and set you down.

The second your feet touched the ground, you tried to run, but you barely got a step away from him before his arm snaked around your waist. He pulled your back flush against his chest and buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. You squirmed in his grip and clawed at his hold on you, but he remained strong and stoic like a sentinel. Your efforts were to no avail.

The other three men rejoined the redhead outside of the bus. Their brows wrinkled in confusion when they noticed that you were with him, but as he pulled out a lighter with his free hand, they quickly disregarded your presence. It was clear that he was the one in charge here.

"Ready? Okay!" The redhead held the lighter close to the gas on the steps. You twisted around in his arms and hid your face in his chest, not wanting to see the moment the gas caught fire.

"Don't worry, princess," his voice cooed right in your ear. "You get a front row seat to the light show!"

You whimpered in response. "Please, don't do this!"

He ignored you and continued to flick the lighter. When it still didn’t light, he huffed in frustration and looked at his friends. "This is so embarrassing," he muttered under his breath. He looked over at the bus. "Does anyone got a light?" He was met with screams in reply.

"I do!" a voice behind you said eagerly.

You spun around as the redhead did, and you saw that the voice had come from one of the members of the group, a man shorter than all the rest with a small stature and close-cropped hair that curled around his ears. He dug the lighter out of his pocket and held it out to him. There was a light in his eyes, like he was eager to please.

Just as the redhead was about to take the lighter from him, the wail of sirens caught their attention.

You turned your head to see three cars swerve into the parking lot and skid to a stop. Two of them were police cars, and you couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope ignite inside of you. The sound of car doors slamming shut resounded in the lot as policemen got out of their vehicles, guns drawn.

"Stand your ground, boys.” The redhead’s lips curled into a smile as he and his friends got out guns of their own. “They can't shoot at the bus."

With that, all hell broke loose.

It was like open season as they shot at the cops, bullets ricocheting off of the cars’ metal exteriors and shattering the glass in the windows. The opposition could do nothing but watch, dodging bullets where they could.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" you heard a voice amongst the policemen shout.

You watched in horror as one man got hit in the chest and crumpled to the ground. You yelped and receded further into the redhead’s grip for protection.

"Aaron, Greenwood, go get the truck started,” the redhead instructed the curly-haired man and the last member of the group you had neglected to notice. He was tall, bald, and well-built, the features of his face set into a grim expression. “We're gonna blow this barbecue!"

The two men nodded firmly and hurried off. The redhead turned to address the smaller man from before but noticed a detective sneaking closer to the bus. He whipped around and aimed his gun at him. The detective ducked behind the car just in time to avoid the shot.

The redhead fired again and again until he pulled the trigger and nothing happened but a dull, hollow click. He clenched his jaw and dropped the empty gun to the ground. Twirling a finger in the air, he commanded, "Light 'em up!"

He retreated to the truck, dragging you with him. You kicked your legs in the air and released an ear-splitting scream from your throat. He picked up the hose and sprayed more gasoline at the bus, laughing that same eerie, hysterical laugh. It was rough and low, like it was stuck in his throat and resonating from his chest.

He grabbed onto the side of the truck as it drove away, leaving the smaller man behind to set the bus on fire. He banged the hose against the truck, his face contorted in an expression of perverse glee.

Once they were far enough away from the bus, the redhead yanked open the door to the truck and slid inside. You latched onto the frame of the open door and pulled against his arm around your waist. "Let go of me, you monster!"

He ripped you away from the frame and closed the door behind you. He easily maneuvered you like a doll so you were in between his body and the curly-haired man’s. You found yourself awkwardly squished between them in the cramped cab, along with the bald man who was driving the truck.

"This one's feisty," the redhead chuckled. "Greenwood, hand me some rope."

The curly-haired man did as he was told, and the redhead wrapped rope around your wrists and ankles, tying them in strong knots. "Let's hope you don't get out of these like you did with those handcuffs."

The curly-haired man leered at you, looking you up and down like you were something to eat. "Who's this?" His mouth twisted into a demented smile, and he placed his hand on your knee. You writhed, trying to get away from him, although you knew it was of no use with your hands and feet bound together.

The redhead slapped his hand off of your leg. The look on his face was oddly serious. "Touch her again, and I'll cut off your hand.” An animalistic growl rumbled deep in his chest.

Fear was evident in the curly-haired man’s eyes, but he played it off, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat.

You stared straight out the windshield, silently praying that you didn’t see a column of thick, black smoke rising into the sky. Your chin wobbled as you thought about your friends roasting alive, flames licking and devouring their skin as they screamed in agony. You imagined the stench of burning flesh permeating the air. A small tear escaped from the corner of your eye and rolled down your cheek. You hoped the policemen had found a way to stop the smaller man from lighting the bus in flames in time.

Suddenly, the redhead gasped, drawing your attention to him, and he brought his hand up to the fresh bite mark on his neck. He pulled his hand away and stared at the ruby red blood sticky like syrup coating his skin.

"I hope I'll get to bite you too, princess.” He smirked. "I'm Jerome. What's your name?"

You didn’t answer; instead, you spat at him.

Your saliva landed directly on his cheek. He flinched and wiped at it with his bloodied hand. He stared at the combination of his blood and your spit on his fingers almost as if he were mesmerized before sticking them in his mouth. He stared straight into your eye as he sucked on his fingers, moaning sensually.

You grimaced, recoiling in disgust. He removed his fingers from his mouth and laughed at your reaction. “You want a taste?” He held his hand out to you as if he was offering you a lick of his ice cream cone.

"You're disgusting," you hissed.

He cackled again, and the sound rattled your bones. "What's your name, princess?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. He stared at you until you eventually gave in and gave him your name.

He repeated it as if he was tasting it on his tongue. Then, he hummed thoughtfully. "I think I like princess better."

-

What felt like a very long car ride later, you found yourself in the middle of the Maniax’s secret lair. It was not what you had expected at all, not in the slightest. Instead of a dark, dingy cave or abandoned warehouse, the domestic terrorists resided in an upscale penthouse that was lavishly furnished and overlooked a beautiful view of the Gotham City skyline. Who knew insane asylum patients had such good taste in home decor?

You were greeted by two people when you got there: the first, a man dressed in an expensive, tailored suit with slicked-back, raven hair; and the second, a woman wielding a scary-looking whip wearing a black leather jumpsuit, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Neither of them looked happy to see you.

"We're back!" Jerome singsonged, skipping into the room and dragging you along behind him. He had undid the rope around your wrists and ankles, but his hand on your arm was heavy like a ball and chain.

"And unsuccessful.” A scowl settled over the mysterious man’s features. "After you fled the scene, Detective James Gordon knocked out Dobkins and moved the bus before any flames could catch. We had to assassinate Dobkins before he could expose us."

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding at hearing that your friends were alright, your eyes fluttering closed. Even though you were at the mercy of these maniacs, the knowledge that your friends were safe gave you the smallest sense of relief.

Beside you, Jerome’s jaw clenched, and his free hand curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. “I should’ve killed that idiot myself," he seethed.

"Who's this?" You opened your eyes to find the mysterious man’s on you. The weight of his gaze was heavy, as if he could see straight through you. If Jerome was a demon, this man was surely the devil.

"This," Jerome slung an arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side, "is my girl, princess." He beamed like he was bringing a girl home to meet his parents for the first time.

The mysterious man’s frown deepened. "Jerome, you can't just go kidnapping innocent girls whenever you feel like it.”

"Oh, she's not innocent.” He chuckled and pointed to the bite mark on his neck. It was starting to scab over but still stood out like a brand on his ivory skin.

The mysterious man looked at the woman next to him brandishing the whip like they were communicating telepathically. The woman turned to you, and with a flick of her wrist, the leather of her whip was coiled around your throat.

Your eyes went wide, and your lips fell open, but no air passed between them. Your hands automatically shot up to grip onto the whip, but it slipped between your fingers like the scales of a snake. She tugged on the other end of the whip, and you were yanked out of Jerome’s arms. The whip constricted around your throat, and a squeak escaped your lips as you fought to breathe.

A look of pure, unadulterated panic came over Jerome’s face. "Stop!" He froze for a second, unsure of what to do, until in a split second decision he reached for the bald man’s gun. He snatched it from him and pressed the barrel against his head. "If she goes, I go. And you need me.”

You watched the mysterious man’s countenance slowly crumble as his gaze flickered back and forth between you and Jerome, questioning just how valuable he was to this little team.

"I swear to God, I'll do it," Jerome threatened and cocked the gun for extra emphasis. His tone was even, and his hand was steady.

Your hearing grew muffled, and your lungs burned from a lack of air, collapsing in on themselves like a house of cards. The mysterious man gave the woman another meaningful look. She hesitated, but just as gray spots started to dance across your vision, she retracted the whip. Without the whip to hold you up, you fell forward, but before you could hit the ground, Jerome caught you in his arms.

You heard the gun clatter on the ground next to you; Jerome must’ve dropped it in order to catch you. Your throat felt impossibly dry and sore as you gasped for air. You coughed and wheezed, tears springing in the corners of your eyes.

You felt Jerome raking his hands through your hair. You wanted to push him away, but you were too weak. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you,” he assured you.

The woman with the whip glared at the mysterious man. He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let the boy have his fun. Maybe he’ll be more focused when he’s gotten it out of his system.” He shifted his gaze to Jerome. “If she gets in the way, I won’t tell her to stop next time.”

He walked away, the soles of his dress shoes slapping against the tile. The woman with the whip shot you and Jerome on the floor one last scalding glance before she followed after him.

Jerome watched them go with something akin to madness tainting his gaze, but it all melted away when he looked at you. He kneeled at your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you alright, princess?”

When you managed to recover somewhat and regain your breath, you swatted at his hand in your hair. “Don’t touch me.” Your voice was too hoarse, and what you meant to be a firm protest came out more like a whimper from a kicked dog.

The look of concern on his face disappeared at your words, and a grin took its place. “Sounds like you’re just fine.”

He jumped to his feet and grabbed your hands, roughly pulling you off the floor. In one fluid motion, he threw you over his shoulder again. “Princess and I are going to be spending some much needed bonding time together.” He started in the direction of the stairs. “Don’t disturb us!”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you heard a voice laced with sarcasm say. You looked up to meet eyes with a woman who had curly, blonde hair. She wrinkled her nose at you as Jerome passed by her.

You didn’t bother retaliating this time around as he carried you up the stairs. All the energy had been sucked out of you from your earlier escape attempts and near death experience. He walked down a hallway and kicked one of the doors open. He stepped inside, and only when you heard the lock turn on the closed door behind you did he finally put you down.

You righted yourself and stepped out of his grasp, choosing to observe the room instead. It was rather plain, the only pieces of furniture a queen-sized bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. The walls were bare, and there were no decorations to bring life into the dull room, nothing to make it seem like a place someone actually resided in, like whoever slept here was only doing so temporarily.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Jerome spread his arms out wide and gestured to the room. "It's no Palace of Versailles, but it's a lot better than the trailer at the circus or a cell in Arkham."

So this was where you were to be held captive during your stay here, however long that may be. It suddenly became apparent to you that there was no guarantee that you would live long. It was only a matter of time before Jerome grew bored of playing with you and disposed of you like an old toy or those two people downstairs thought you too much a liability. Your thoughts quickly drifted to your friends and your family. You wondered if they had started searching for you, although you knew whether or not they did, there was no way they’d be able to find you. At least, not alive.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as Jerome circled you like a shark who smelled blood in the water, the look in his eyes scarily intense. “I want you to tell me what you’re thinking, princess.”

It was hard to look him in the eye. “Who were those people downstairs?”

He quirked a brow. “You mean Tabitha and Theo?” Figuring that's who they were, you nodded. “Our benefactors and generous hosts. They’re the ones who broke us out of Arkham.”

So that explains the fancy penthouse. Although, you wondered what two clearly wealthy and established yet inarguably unhinged people like them had in store for the inmates and, most of all, where you fit into it all.

“But I know that’s not what you really wanted to ask me.” His pace was relentless, circling around and around like a never ending spiral. “What’s been on your mind since you first got here.”

You did have a burning question on your mind, a question that had been nagging at you for a while, but you hadn’t been able to voice it out loud. Mostly because you were scared of the answer.

“Why me?” Your voice sounded so small. “Why take me in the first place?” He could’ve killed you a long time ago for disobeying his orders, and yet he chose time and time again to keep you around.

He laughed as if you had said something funny. He stopped in front of you. “Because, princess,” he reached out to caress your cheek, and you flinched as his hand made contact with your skin, “there’s a spark inside of you. You’re brave and fearless.” He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone almost tenderly. “I admire that about you.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. In a momentary burst of rage, you pressed your hands against his chest and shoved him back as far as you could (which wasn’t very far). “Fuck you!” Your voice resonated off of the empty walls.

He barely stumbled back a step, unfazed by your anger. “Only if you’ll do the honors.” He winked smoothly.

You raised your arms to strike at him again, but before you could even get one blow in, his hands wrapped around your wrists like handcuffs. He guided you backwards until the backs of your knees met the bed. But he didn’t stop there. Your eyes went wide as your back met the mattress and he landed on top of you. Any strength you had left was gone, and his weight on top of you knocked the wind out of you.

He pinned your hands above your head, his face inches from yours. “None of that.” The tip of his nose brushed against yours. “Or do I have to remind you that your life is in my hands now?”

You blinked back tears. “Please,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

He shushed you, his eyes fluttering closed before closing the gap between your lips. The kiss was surprisingly soft and gentle. He moved his lips against yours, although you remained immobile like stone. You briefly contemplated kneeing him in the groin, but you didn’t want to push him past the point of inflicting pain on you.

As if he knew what you were thinking, he kneed your legs open and pinned your thighs down with his knees. He adjusted so he was holding your wrists in one hand, his other hand going to rest on your jaw. It moved down your neck, over your collarbone, to grope your breast through your uniform. You gasped, and he seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His thumb brushed over your nipple, massaging it into a stiffened peak.

He rolled his hips against yours, groaning into your mouth. You felt his hard length straining against the confines of his pants press against you, and it was like alarm bells went off in your head. His hand on your breast moved down to flip up the skirt of your uniform, baring your lacy panties to him.

He disconnected your lips to admire them. “A little scandalous for a cheerleader, don’t you think?” His fingers ghosted over your clothed core, and your hips involuntarily bucked against his hand. “Unless you were wearing them for someone?”

There was a jealous glint in his eye as he stared down at you, rubbing your folds through your underwear. All you could respond with, however, was “Stop.”

He sighed. “It’s always the same: ‘get away from me, let go, don’t touch me.’ But I know what you really want.”

He slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and pressed them between your folds. You took a sharp intake of breath; his fingers were cold against your hot flesh. He spread your lips, and you heard the telltale sound of your arousal as he spread your wetness around your slit.

He bummed in contentment. “Just as I thought: you’re soaking wet.” He kissed your neck, and you could feel his cocky smile against your skin. He looked up at you. “Is all this for me?”

You didn’t dignify him with an answer. You tried to close your legs, but it was impossible with his knees holding you down. He gathered the wetness leaking out of your entrance before pressing his fingers into you. You hissed at the intrusion as he stretched you open.

“Although, maybe it would be fun to watch you fight back.” He smirked. “I can tell you want to.” He moved so his face took up your entire field of vision. “Go on. Give it your best shot.”

Your muscles seized up, unsure if this was a trap or not. Meanwhile, his fingers continued to move inside of you, in and out, in and out until you grew accustomed to the size of his thick fingers.

“Or maybe you’re enjoying it too much to try and stop me,” he teased you.

You knew he was pressing your buttons on purpose, trying to get a rise out of you, but it didn’t stop you from reacting. With both your hands and legs secured, it left you with a limited amount of options. But you took your chances anyway and, as fast as you could, smashed your forehead into his nose.

He grunted and reeled back. You felt something wet hit your face, and when he looked back down at you, you saw blood dripping from his nose. You wondered if you had broken it or not. Despite the injury you had caused him, the grin on his face was wider than ever.

“That was a good try.” He cackled. “Now, it’s my turn.”

He leaned down and sank his teeth into your neck.

A scream was ripped from your throat as a white hot, burning pain spread from your neck to your nerve endings. You felt the skin snap under the pressure of his teeth. He held you there, like you were a dead bird caught in the jaws of a lion. It felt like he was trying to tear your throat out.

He retracted from you, licking your blood from his teeth. “Now we’re even.”

His thumb flicked at your clit, and you yelped. He started tracing gentle circles over the sensitive nub while his fingers still thrust into you. You lifted your head (ignoring the shooting pain in your neck) just enough to watch his pale fingers disappear in and out of you again and again. He twisted his wrist slightly as he pulled them out almost all the way only to plunge them back in. You clamped down on the appendages violating you.

“You must not hate it that much with the way you’re strangling my fingers,” he gloated.

You thought back to the living room when you had the whip wrapped around your throat, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you. Surely that tightness had been more bearable and less mortifying. Part of you wished the mysterious man hadn’t told her to stop just to spare you from this torture.

You wanted to shoot him a glare, but he curled his fingers so they brushed against your inner walls, and a pathetic mewl fell from your lips instead. You collapsed back against the bed, failing to bite back your moans as you let the pleasure consume you. You felt that familiar tightening in your gut and cursed yourself for reacting to him this way. Warmth spread from your core to your fingertips, and your toes curled as your orgasm hit you.

Your pussy fluttered around his fingers, and Jerome leaned down to kiss you. You could taste your blood on his tongue mingling with the blood still oozing from his nose. He didn’t stop fingering you through your high. He didn’t even stop fingering you after your head came down from the clouds, still mercilessly stroking your clit. It wasn’t until you whined from the oversensitivity did he laugh and have the decency to remove his hand from you.

He let go of your hands and moved off of your thighs, but you were too worn out from your orgasm to move. He kneeled on the bed next to you and stared at his fingers glistening with your juices. He stuck them in his mouth and slurped it off, moaning as he did so.

You had enough strength to turn your head away from him. A cold hand on your jaw forced you to look back at him. His face was startlingly close to yours.

“You’re mine, my princess.” He traced the bite on your neck with the pad of his finger, and you cried out at the twinge of pain that shot through you as a result. “And now everyone will know it.”

You stared up at him, eyes glassy, the only thought in your mind that you were in deep, deep trouble.

-

Masterlist | Ko-fi

Tags: @ckatattack​ @bamposworld​ @verysleepy1​

[yandere-southpark]

Hello, my dear! Thank you so much for your blessed blog, so hard to find a yandere blog for sp♥️ if you don't mind, can I ask for platonic / romantic headcanons for Tweek Tweak? This boy is so underrated, but he looks so soft and super clingy because of how socially awkward he is. I hope you keep yourself safe and comfortable💕

HCs for Platonic and Romantic Yandere Tweek

A.N. - I had the ideas, so why not share them? You’re right on the money about Tweek; he’s one of the most delusional of the bunch. I’m doing my best, and I hope you do the same. That goes for all my readers. Happy early Halloween everyone!

Platonic:

Apologizes for the slightest hint of a mistake. Upsetting his friend is deserving of death in Tweek’s opinion, so any show of malcontent from them fuels his crippling fear of abandonment.

No matter how much their absence paralyzes him with the thought that they have boarded a train to nowhere and are never returning, he will bury this terror in the depths of his mind if it means pleasing his friend. Someone like him should be drowning someone like them in adulation for even sparing him a passing glance let alone being his friend.

Tweek feels deeply indebted to them for providing what he views as protection from the countless dangers of the world and worries that he will never be able to repay them. This perceived failure haunts his thoughts every second of every day until he is reduced to a quivering mess, pleading with them to forgive him.

In Tweek’s eyes, his friend is not merely a kind person who gives him the time of day. They are something else entirely. A type of guardian who, in his time of need, will always be there to rescue him from both the pits of his paranoia and the threats these delusions conjure.

Looks to his friend for how to live his life. When Tweek thinks of his friend, he imagines someone who hopelessly outmatches him in every way.

When he is debating how many coffee beans to dump in the grinder, they throw out a number that sounds perfect. When he is struggling to prepare the customers’ orders without spilling drinks because of the coffee his parents gave him earlier, they swoop in with a thumbs-up and make the daunting workload feel like grabbing a glass of water.

Such little deeds, but to Tweek, it is nothing short of ironclad proof that his friend possesses a level of greatness he would never dare reach. Every second of their attention is a gift he feels unworthy of but covets more than he does any other facet of his life. One sliver of praise is a source of bliss so potent he would disregard the rest of the world and do anything they desired if only asked.

Tweek is desperate to prove that their kindness is not wasted on him, and he will search for how to do so in all the worst places. Any indication that someone is consistently bothering his friend results in the culprit being wiped off the map.

If they are having difficulty succeeding in something, he is more than willing to drug competitors and resorts to as many unlawful means of guaranteeing their victory as needed. It is the least he can do to show his gratitude for their companionship.

Romantic:

Every living, breathing person is a threat. The most fleeting of glances betray an untold passion, and one kind word is a declaration of devotion the likes of which bring Tweek to his knees. A pat on the back or hand on the shoulder petrifies him and drives him to beg his partner not to interact with anyone but himself.

For each second of their absence, he is plagued with horrific thoughts about unseen foes watching from the shadows and creeping up while his back is turned. No one can be trusted but them, and it does not require more than a few minutes for Tweek's erratic courage to shatter.

He swamps them with phone calls and text messages before screaming for them to save him as other people begin to take notice and ask questions. When someone approaches with concern or complaint, he flees to his partner with the request that they never leave his house again.

Even then, he cannot fall asleep without them else he is tormented by nightmares of unwanted visitors. Tweek awaits their return to latch onto them and implore them to never leave his side again.

Believes his partner will never reciprocate his affections. Tweek invents a story where he and his partner have always known each other and been together since before his first memories.

There is no doubt that their relationship is anything less than foretold, and he has a myriad of bogus experiences and interactions to prove it. The euphoria he feels whenever they come near is twisted by his delusional mind into proof that his partner can singlehandedly erase all his anxiety with their mere presence and is the key to happiness.

Anytime they ask who he is or why he is following them, reality delivers a swift kick to Tweek's brain that nearly cripples him. All the holes in his fantasies suddenly become painfully evident, and the logistical nightmare that is their relationship is now unavoidable.

He spends so much time wallowing in fake memories that he forgets to make real ones. Tweek has a poor ability to differentiate between what he wishes to be real and what is, so he retreats into his delusions the moment the integrity of the relationship comes under attack.

[jeonggukingdom]

house of cards (m)

pairing  ⟶ jungkook x fem!Reader (feat. Namjoon & the rest of the boys)

synopsis  ⟶ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

genre  ⟶ smut, angst, apocalypse!AU, zombie!AU   

rating  ⟶  18+

word count  ⟶  17.453 words

warnings  ⟶ graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, hair pulling, marking each other with admittedly too many hickeys, teasing, couch sex, fingering, dirty talk, pounding, kind of soft sex but also rough sex?, multiple orgasms, a little tiny drop of chocking because why not, oral sex (receiving) because we all know I can’t resist and have to put this literally in every fic I write lol. Death, violence, blood, gunshot wounds: all of which include graphic descriptions. [I AM TERRIBLY SORRY].

author’s note ⟶ this fic has been written for the “Bulletproof Bingo” project created by @ficswithluv​! You can find the card I received here (click!) but to make things more fun and keep the surprise I blurred out all the songs except for the five songs in the same row that I’m going to write first ;)  A special thank you to @inkedxclouds​ for reading the opening scene and encouraging me to keep on writing it! Your words (and advice!) really helped me so really, thank you again ♥

song title ⟶ House Of Cards - BTS [ lyrics that inspired the story the most:  “A house made of cards, and us, inside / Even though the end is visible / Even if it’s going to collapse soon / A house made of cards, we’re like idiots / Even if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more /  As if there’s no such thing as tomorrow / As if there’s no such thing as a “next time” /  Right now, in front of my eyes, everything without you / Is a terribly pitch-black darkness” ]

tag list ⟶   @mrcleanheichou​​  • @ayujaded​​ • @vera6483​​ • @peterrogers15​  • @ggukkieland​

The city is on fire.

The flames dance in the air, tint everything black and red and menace to reach up the sky, bring that down as well so that truly nothing is left unscathed in the entire world. The heath burns his flesh, makes his eyes water, turns his throat dry and he doesn’t need to look behind his back to know you can feel it too, to know how fast your heart is beating inside your chest, thumping hard against your ribs like a trapped hummingbird inside a cage. He doesn’t have to look to know your chest is heaving, that fatigue and panic are taking over your entire system. He doesn’t need to, but he still tilts his head slightly to the side, fixes his gaze on your face for a whole second before turning back around to take in the destructive scenery all around you.

His legs move faster. They hit hard on the dirty and sleek bitumen, seemingly indefatigable, but the truth is that the only thing propelling him forward is self-preservation and the knowledge that if he stops, even for a second, he’ll be dead and you right along with him.

But Jeongguk is not stupid. He knows you’re both reaching your breaking point, that you won’t be able to keep on going much longer and that knowledge turns him desperate.

There has to be a way out. He refuses to believe this is the end. No, no, he will not allow it.

His fingers are wrapped tightly around yours and he tugs on them harder, pulls you closer to him so that he can feel the warmth of your body, your heavy breath hitting the back of his neck every now and then. Like this, he knows you’re alive, that you are both still here and most importantly, still human.

Neither of you dares to take a look behind your backs and truth is, you don’t even have to. All it takes is for you is to close your eyes—or even blink—to see them.

Skin of a sickly ashen grey. Eyes void like an abyss, black as coal. Mouths open wide in a perpetual silent scream that haunts both of your dreams every single night. Teeth ready to bite, rip the skin off and let the blood soil the bitumen and fill their monstrous mouths. Arms outstretched to grasp you, to pull you into them to scratch and rip the skin until nothing of you is left, not even your soul, and you are one of them. Another little piece in the ever-growing army of walking corpses.

All it took was two weeks.

Two weeks for the whole world to crumble down, splinter into tiny frail little pieces of glass and all by the hands of monsters that only used to live inside TV screens on Halloween: zombies.

Jeongguk curses under his breath, swiftly turns to the left in a vain attempt to confuse the brain-dead creatures right behind your backs but he knows it won’t work, not this time, not when there is so many of them.

He dares another look at your face and the utter terror he reads on your features turns his heart smaller inside his chest.

He swore to protect you.

One year ago, in front of your families and friends, he made his vows. What was it that he promised? To love you and cherish you until the end of his days, to protect you and grant you a happy life. And now what? What happened to all those pretty words that filled his mouth back then?

Lies. Lies. Lies.

Everyone you ever cared about and loved is gone. Everything you ever knew is gone. All in the blink of an eye. There were no goodbyes, no mourning, no nothing. And he can see the toll it has taken on you whenever he looks inside those beautiful eyes of yours. Once upon a time, they used to shine like stars in a night sky but not anymore—just another thing to add to the list of what those monsters have taken away from the both of you.

Your legs are tired. Your lungs are begging for air and all you can think about is just letting go, just let your body fall and claim the desperate rest it needs. When was the last time either of you had a proper night of sleep? When was the last time nightmares didn’t wake one of you in the middle of the night and successfully kept you awake through most of it until the sun was back up in the sky?

Jeongguk curses, his voice quivers around the edges alongside his limbs and he can hear your breath catch, get trapped inside your lungs.

Is this the end?

He gulps down heavily, bites on his bottom lip like he always does when he is focused on something, when he is so deep in thought the whole world disappears. But this time, the look on his face is one of panic and dread.

There is no way out.

Jeongguk curses under his breath again, forces you to take another swift turn to the left and you both know it’s futile and desperate but what else is left?

You don’t want to die like this, in a dark alley of a city you’ve never seen before, helplessly running away from the nightmares behind your backs. So you pray. You pray to all the deities known to mankind, even those you’ve never believed in because truthfully, this is all you have left, isn’t it? The hope for a miracle.

Jeongguk falters and you almost bump right into him. His name leaves your mouth like a shrill but it falls on deaf ears because right there, in the middle of the street, shining like a beacon, lies a car.

A car.

Amidst all the smoke and fire, standing amidst all of this wreckage with barely a single scratch on its surface, that car almost looks like a mirage, a freaking miracle. Or a curse. Too good to be true, too-fucking-good to be true. And yet, it is a chance. Perhaps your only chance. So he takes it. Because this is what your lives have been reduced to. A fucking gamble.

So he takes courage, treats this as a round at the Russian roulette where you don’t know whether you win or lose until you pull the bloody trigger and shoot yourself right on your temple. He takes courage and tugs on your arm, yanks it forward as he aims for the car ignoring both the yelp of pain and the shrill of panic that erupt from your mouth.

He ignores the way you call his name in question and horror as your eyes land on what to you looks like nothing but certain doom. He ignores the way you try to yank him in the opposite direction, the way your hand trembles in his grasp with nothing but fear, the way your breath catches as the creatures get closer and closer and closer.

You can almost feel their breath on your neck, you can almost feel their hands on your skin, their claws sinking inside the tender flesh to bring you down with them.

"Hurry!"

His shrill cuts through the air like a knife. Your heaving breaths fill the silence left in its wake and they mix with Jeongguk's and the monsters’ right behind your backs.

What happens next is nothing but a blur.

Curses and screams fill the air, your bodies pressed together inside the car as you pray to all the Gods somewhere up there in the sky to spare your life just this once, to not let the both of you die like this, in a city in ruin with not a single person you ever loved alive to mourn you.

You pray and maybe, maybe someone is really up there, listening and granting wishes because while the monsters surround you, while they shake the car and hit the glass with their fists and open mouths, Jeongguk turns the key and the engine roars to life.

An exhilarated laugh escapes his parted lips, shakes his thin body to the point he’s jolting on the seat whilst pushing with all his might on the pedal to propel the car forward.

Your hand searches his and finds it around the gearshift. Your fingers automatically lace together as if that is the very purpose they were created for and then, you close your eyes and the world turns black and subdues as you will it all away. The flames, the monsters surrounding you, the smell of fire and death that still fills your nose… they disappear just like magic as you push your thoughts far away from here.

You fill your head with images of your past life, one that almost looks like a dream now, something you’ve only seen while sleeping and not actually lived through. You fill it with laughter and kisses under the sunlight on that beach in Busan where you and Jeongguk finally confessed your feelings for each other. You fill it with the sensation of his warm hands against your naked flesh, you fill it with his beautiful, endearing smile. With the sound of his voice as he softly calls your name first thing in the morning or when he whispers it in your ears while you make love. You fill it all with him so that you can ignore the way the car shakes, the sounds of the monsters falling on the ground as the car drives into them, pushes them down on the bitumen and steps on them.

Slowly, silence envelops you whole and in return, your heart stops hammering against your chest like a caged bird and yet, it is still not enough to prompt your eyes to open because you know that the moment you do so, no matter how far away from the madness and horror you currently are, you’ll never be distant enough because this is your new life and all the happy images filling your head right now are nothing but long-gone memories.

Jeongguk’s eyes are trained on the empty street and yet he can almost see you sitting right next to him with your eyes closed and your cherry lips parted, breathing ever so softly and drifting inside your world of memories. He knows that world oh too well, being a frequent visitor himself. It’s easy to forget the nightmare when you close your eyes and just drown yourself in the past, push your entire body so down under the deep waters you can’t even hear a peep from the world raging outside. Easy and comforting.

It scares him. It scares him how effortless it is to just let go and pretend, to let your consciousness slip away long enough you could almost forget how to get back.

He calls your name ever so softly then, his voice sweet and rich just like your favourite filled chocolate doughnut—your usual breakfast on a weekend, when he’d purposefully get out of bed before you just to go buy some for the both of you to consume in the comfort and warmth of your bed.

The memory makes a small smile stretch on your lips but it quickly fades as stripes of bleeding red and violent pink start burning its edges, slowly reducing it to nothing at all.

The sun is setting in the sky, falling rapidly behind the hills ahead of you and bringing all the light right with it. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine for there is nothing you dread more than the night and the nightmares sleep always brings right along with it. Another day has passed and if only there were a set date, a fixed moment in time you know to mark the end of it all, maybe you’d be able to rejoice then but that is just another luxury you don’t have.

Jeongguk’s eyes move on your face then, just in time to catch the way your expression inevitably falls and your smile disappears as quickly as it had formed. The peaceful expression, the little glint inside your beautiful eyes still present a few seconds ago are once again broken by the cruel reality and Jeongguk hates himself a little for shattering the dream, for pulling you back inside this Hell right along with him but even that deep sense of guilt can’t overpower the relief of having you still right next to him, alive and well and… present.

So he offers you a little smile, a tug of his hand to prompt your eyes to shift away from the bleeding sky and rather fix them on him and the moment they do oh, how they make his heart beat loudly in his chest, how do they so easily bring warmth to his cheeks and limbs.

“We’ve made it, baby.”

Yes. You’re alive.

You laugh and nod your head a couple of times for him. And Jeongguk could swear you illuminate the entire car, hell, even the whole road ahead of you with that smile full of sunshine he fell in love with so many years ago, when you were still kids. And the more you look at him, at the way his eyes shine like stars and his nose scrunches up in that adorable bunny-like way of his, the bigger your smile gets and Jeongguk is certain that you, like this, are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on.

Deep down, you both know this is temporary, that this feeling of victory will be gone in a matter of a few hours when you’ll inevitably face another one of those monsters and yet, you allow yourselves to bask in the little joy you feel, in the glimpse of normalcy right within your grasp. For once, you decide not to care and rather live to the fullest inside this little bubble of happiness. A bubble so small and delicate even a breath could easily burst it.

“We did, didn’t we? Wow… I can’t believe it,” your voice is soft and filled with a little hint of the mirth that turned your lips upwards for the first time in days and Jeongguk can’t help but smile even further while focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Me neither,” he confesses, shaking his head a little for it does still feel absolutely incredible and so unbelievably lucky there must be a catch about the whole ordeal somewhere. He pushes those type of thoughts away with all his might, though, as he tries to enjoy the opportunity he was given to live another day right next to you because he hates this part of himself, the pessimistic side that everyday swallows a bit more of the person he used to be before this nightmare started.

It is the middle of the night when you finally come to a halt in what looks to be an abandoned city. One of many, you think to yourself as you scan your surroundings waiting for that telltale sign of danger that comes with the grunts of the famished walking corpses. The silence of the night welcomes the both of you, though, as you help yourselves out of the car and before you can even glance towards Jeongguk, he is standing right there, by your side, fingers laced around yours to keep you as close as possible. You smile at the tender gesture. It’s one of the few habits of his that hasn’t subdued just yet.

You know.

And even though most of the times you pretend you haven’t noticed the way he has changed—nor the way you have—you know he has and sometimes it is hard to ignore how empty his eyes look when they are not fixed on you, how thin his lips look now that they are always stretched into a harsh line and not pulled into a gentle smile and most importantly how often you catch his hands shaking and him balling them into fists to stop their incessant tremor.

You tug on his hand, offer him a gentle smile the second he looks at you and you imprint the sight of his smile in your memory, the way his eyes light up with a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. You map every single inch of his face just so you can remember him like this the most. Your Jeongguk, not the one the army of dead bodies has created.

You have never walked on a minefield before in your life but if you had to guess how it feels you’d bet he’d be a little like this as you walk through the empty streets in the middle of the night without having a single clue where to go, where to hide. Potentially, every turn could signify your demise. With every step you take, you feel like shrinking inside yourself, turning a little smaller inch after inch whilst your body quivers ever so slightly in fear and your heart aches as it pounds hard against your ribs.

It is Jeongguk that spots the abandoned building first.

The city has been turned to ashes, set on fire like your own and the one you saw after that, and the one after that too and so on into a trail of smoke, fire and destruction that has left barely anything unscathed. Yet this building looks somewhat decent, with the door still there—albeit swung open—and a few windows with the glass still intact to protect you from both the drop in temperatures and any unwanted guests.

A little winning smile forms on his lips then and he tugs a little on your arm so that you can hurry your steps, get to what promises to be your safe haven—at least for the night—as quickly as humanly possible without making a single sound so not to stir awake the creatures surely lurking in the dark.

Your steps are full of uncertainty and fear as you step into the abandoned building and walk on the broken tiled floor. With each step you take, you tug a little harder on Jeongguk’s hand in fear of what you might meet at the end of this long corridor and seemingly endless string of doors.

If it had been for you, you would have stopped at the first apartment with it being close enough to the exit to make a quick escape if needed. Instead, you keep walking and you only stop when there’s only a set of doors left and even though you know this is probably for the best, that it would be harder for anyone to find you here, that the brainless creatures are less likely to sense you so far away from the streets, you can’t shake the uneasiness prompted by the fear of getting trapped inside this place and not being able to leave it with your humanity still intact.

The door opens easily. Just a little tug from Jeongguk’s hand and it swings open to reveal a simple apartment with minimal and mostly-ruined furniture. The signs of struggle, of a hopeless fight, of the loss of other human lives, taint every inch and corner of this place that probably used to be filled with love and warmth once. You can almost sense the pain, the fear and horror. You can almost hear the screams as your fingers brush against the door, the walls, the little objects filled with memories on the furnishing. It’s just like echoes from ghosts that beg to be heard, to be remembered so that at least this little part of them can live on, forever human.

You gulp down heavily, force your eyes to tear away from the picture of a happy family still hanging on the wall and rather focus it on your boyfriend’s back as he walks inside the apartment just to make sure no surprises are waiting for you inside any of the empty rooms. You follow his every movement, you mirror every single step and fill your thoughts and sight with him so that it’s easier to bare everything, so that it’s easier to ignore and move on, to live and fight for your chance at survival.

His soft voice breaks the silence just to call your name and draw you next to him and you easily comply letting him lace your fingers together. He places a tender kiss on your forehead then before opening his arms to welcome you in his warm embrace. You feel your body relax into the familiar sensation of being completely engulfed by his strong arms, you feel your heart slowly melt as his scent fills your nose the instant you hide your face in his broad chest. He holds you like this for what feels like hours and he doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to know what fills his head and moves his heart. Fear, relief, love, guilt—you’ve felt them all, sometimes even all at once while looking towards him in the midst of one of your escapes and, inside this embrace, you can sense them all, hanging above your heads and weighing on his heart and shoulders.

Your arms wrap around him, tuck underneath the green jacket so that your fingers can fist the thin black shirt under it and pull him into you more so that not a single breath of air can come between your aching, broken bodies.

Jeongguk’s lips quiver, a trembling breath escapes his mouth as he lets himself break within your embrace knowing oh too well that you’ll help him put back together every single splinter of his being. He breaks without a single word or sound and yet you mend him over and over again until he’s whole once more and he can smile at you anew and mean it.

He doesn’t have to say anything. All it takes is one look from his glinting eyes and a nod of your head and in an instant, you’re sitting on the couch ignoring the ripped fabric and the dark stains on it in favour of the little food in your backpacks.

When you had it all, you had taken for granted many things: a roof on top of your head, an endless source of running water, good food on your table every single night. Now, you don’t even have half of that and yet, there’s a little smile on your face as you consume your dinner with your boyfriend sitting right next to you and that’s because even the stale bread in your hands tastes heavenly after days of pure starvation.

His mouth is still filled with bread to munch on when he fishes out the map from his backpack and his eyes start scanning the names of the cities you passed on your desperate run to safety. His eyes are eager and filled with hope and excitement and he looks so breathtakingly beautiful in this moment—even with dirt on his hands, dried blood on his clothes and dishevelled hair—that you can’t help but stare as you force down your throat the last bite of your meal.

You watch his eyes light up in recognition, you watch them scan the map again and again just to make sure and then you see his mouth open to form a little “o” of surprise and… excitement?

His beautiful eyes of coal fix on you then and the most dazzling smile twists his lips up to the side. An exhilarated laugh escapes his mouth, shakes his chest as he points at the map with the excitement of a little kid in a candy store.

“We’ve made it! Fuck, we’ve actually made it!”

You dart forward, steal the map from his hands to fix your gaze on it and see it for yourself. The safe haven, the refuge Yoongi and Hoseok had heard about and dreamed about every single night before they lost their fight is near, so fucking near you can almost see it now if you close your eyes and squeeze them hard enough.

The Refuge.

“How far is it from here?” Your voice trembles, coming out as soft as a whisper as you tilt your head a little to the side just to fix your gaze back on him.

A grin welcomes your words and you can swear stars are shining in his eyes as he bumps his shoulder into yours so that he can point at the map, show you the road you’ll have to walk on to get there.

“If we’re lucky and the car doesn’t run out of fuel we’ll be there by the end of tomorrow.”

Just a breath. That’s the fraction of a second it takes for you to lean forward and crush your lips on top of his, claim his mouth at the height of your euphoria. The colony of humans, the safe haven your friends talked about every waking hour you spent together is just miles away and the promise of safety and normalcy erases everything else in an instant.

In this moment, all that exists is you and him and the hope for a better, brighter future and with your heart beating so frantically in your chest, all you can do is get lost in him, in his sweet scent, in the heavenly sensation of his fingers wrapped around your frame and his lips roughly moving on top of yours.

You grab his face to pull him into you even more and Jeongguk gladly follows, moulds under your touch to fit on top of your body as you let yourself fall on the couch while still kissing his lovely lips. Your hands are eager, your tongue relentless as it seeks his own through his parted lips and the excitement and adrenaline mix together and build until what is driving your every movement is passion and desire and need.

A low grunt moves past his lips as you tug on the long strands of hair on the back of his head and he doesn’t have to open his eyes to know there’s a wicked smirk painted on your lips, a little knowing smile prompted by the fact that you know way too well how much he likes that, especially when he’s far deep inside of you, rocking his hips furiously to reach his high and bring you down with him.

Your fingers leave his curls in favour of his jacket to move it past his shoulders, let it fall along his arms until he’s unceremoniously throwing it away. But it is not enough to satisfy your desire of seeing him, touching him, claiming him. So your hands hook around the hem of his shirt to lift it off of his head and Jeongguk follows your desires, lets you guide him and take control over him with the barest touch of your fingers. A single brush of your digits on his feverish skin is enough to gather goosebumps on the flesh and blood deep down his crotch. His cheeks turn a lovely shade of coral under your gaze as you bite down your bottom lip while your eyes move up and down his half-naked body. It’s a sight you’ve seen countless of times before and yet, it still makes your mouth run dry and butterfly flutter in your stomach like the very first time.

A small smile spreads on your swollen lips the moment you catch sight of the necklace dangling from his neck. It glints under the artificial white lights of the streetlamps filtering through the windows, looking as if it were made of the purest glass on Earth. You reach out to touch the sharp point of the feather and then you take it within your grasp and tug on it until he’s falling back on top of you and your lips are tasting each other once more.

You drag your nails across his naked back ever so softly yet the sensation of the teasing touch makes him grunt and roll his hips into yours once in a form of retaliation that has you calling his name in a mix of a warning to stop and a plea to keep going. Jeongguk clearly decides it is the latter for he does it again, and again, and again until you’re fully whining his name inside the kiss and digging your nails harder into his naked flesh.

“You’re such a tease,” you whisper atop his mouth the instant his lips leave yours just so that he can look inside your eyes and oh, that little smirk on his lips is so enticing you have to fight against yourself not to kiss him senseless right then and there.

“Look who’s talking.” His voice is rough around the edges, laced with the desire coiling in his stomach that is making his blood boil and gather right between his legs.

You tilt your head a little to the side and let your fingers roam against his chest, stroke ever so softly the fine line of his abs just to watch them contract under your touch. You drag your hand further down his torso and you can hear the way his breath catches the moment your fingers are ghosting over his belt. Your teeth sink into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and Jeongguk curses under his breath as you let your hands move past that belt, get inside his jeans and palm his bottom cheeks through the fabric of his boxer briefs. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his jaw slacks as you tug on his hips so that he can press his confined member against your aching core.

Your body seems to catch on fire, turn into liquid flames right underneath his intense gaze and it takes again all of your willpower to not strip him naked in a second and push him deep right inside of you. But no, you want to savour this moment, make it last throughout the whole night so that you can rekindle properly with each other’s bodies after spending so much time running for your lives, out in the streets, unable to let yourself go and touch each other like you used to every single day before all hell broke loose. It’s been too long. Too long without his fingers on you, without his lips on your neck, without his sex battering yours in ways bound to make you forget your own name. Too-fucking-long.

He calls your name, wets his lips and begs with his eyes to give him more, in whatever form you prefer and you grant his silent wishes with the slow drag of your hands as they inch back towards his belt in order to free him at least from the confinement of his jeans. He releases a soft breath as you unbuckle it for him and then slowly unfasten both the button and the zipper and that same breath seems to hang in the air as your fingers palm him for the first time in weeks. His eyes close in bliss, his head tilts a little back and you drink up the sight of him like this, already getting ruined before you can even touch him properly. Oh, the things you’d do to him and let him do to you all at once and until neither of you can keep on going any longer.

That’s when you attach your lips on his skin, suckle on the firm flesh of his abs until a purple rose blooms there to mark your passage, followed by another and then another until he is whining and growing stiffer under your digits.

Your hands leave his groin and far too quickly for his liking judging by the little grunt of frustration that leaves his parted mouth but that one is quickly replaced by another as you push on his chest until his back is hitting the couch instead of yours and you are the one towering over him, ready to take control.

Your mouth easily finds his weakest spot on the side of his neck and attaches right there just so you can bask in the way his body catches on fire underneath yours, in the way he can’t help but arch his back a little into you, call your name and dig his fingers on the supple curve of your ass. His skin is tender and sweet and it takes so little effort for you to mark it with your eager lips and teeth that you can’t help the deep desire of wanting to mark all of him and turning it into a painting of roses in the shape of your mouth. You close your eyes and let your lips trace every corner of his neck, his clavicles and shoulders and you almost turn deaf to his pleas and whines and sighs of ecstasy. You almost lose yourself completely in the effort of mapping every inch of his skin until nothing is left for you to claim any longer and you have no choice but start all over again.

It takes his hands tugging on your shirt to rip it off of you for you to stop and it takes his mouth on your neck, his hips twitching underneath yours, his voice calling your name, for you to subdue completely and let him strip you of all of your clothes once and for all.

Jeongguk’s fingers tremble with the excitement growing stronger and stronger in his system and they turn rough on your tender skin as they finally get the chance to stroke and pull and feel it under his digits. It’s your turn to close your eyes and tilt your head back, it’s your turn to surrender to his desire-driven touches and mould and melt underneath it. It is your turn to whine and sigh and call his name and Jeongguk drinks up every second of it just like you did and the more he watches you like this, the more he touches you like this, the drunker he feels and the drunker he wants to get because hell, he had almost forgotten how sweet you taste on his lips, how heavenly you feel tightly wrapped around him, how breathtakingly beautiful you are like this, towering over him with nothing but desire filling your gaze.

The bare thought of your walls squeezing him oh so blissfully is enough to make him groan and claim your lips once more while his hands start inching down to where you desire them the most. The touch is simple and slow and yet you arch your back for him, roll your hips on top of his just to feel his length brush against your sleek core. His teeth grasp your bottom lip, pull it down in a way that has you hissing in both pain and excitement and you can’t help but roll your hips once more, bask in the sensation of his turgid member right between your southern lips. You tilt your head back as his lips find your neck once more, attach to the soft spot underneath your jawline to leave his mark there—something he knows to be your utter weakness.

A breathy sigh of elation escapes from your lips and you feel him smile against your skin, you feel his teeth dragging across your neck just so he can playfully bite your jawline next and tease you further. You whisper his name and it sounds like a plea to his ears and one that he is more than glad to take on because damn, he has missed touching you like this more than he even realized. The more his mouth kisses you, the more his fingers brush against your delicate flesh, the more he feels compelled to. So he explores your body more, basks in the way you sigh for him, arch your back, roll your hips, call his name and abandon yourself to his every touch. It is at the apex of your arousal and frustration that his fingers finally find the treasure right between your legs, the sweet spot he had been craving all this time.

The pads of his fingers brush against the sleek skin to gather your juices and slowly bring them up to his mouth so that he can taste them and hum as he sucks his own digits like he would if they were covered with honey instead. The scene is so lewd it prompts a grunt to leave your parted lips while the arousal deepens right between your legs, coiling down to his own turgid member. You watch his eyes zone in onto your dripping sex, you watch them light up with wanton desire and it is then that you beg him, truthfully beg him to lay his hands on you.

“Touch me, please.”

The plea is nothing more than a pained whimper and yet it rings loud and clear into his ears and, oh God does it work because in a fraction of a second, those fingers that were inside his mouth find your core again and this time, they are there to stay. His digits press hard against your swollen clit and draw deep circles onto it while his eyes fix on your face to catch the way it morphs with pleasure.

He drinks up every little whine, every flutter of the eyes, every tilt of the head, every single bite of the lips, every little quiver of your body on top of his.

“Lift your hips, baby.” His voice is hoarse as he speaks those words, laced with all the arousal clouding all of his thoughts and the fire you can see in his eyes makes your head spin and your mouth run dry. The way he wants you, the way he plans to claim you over and over again on this ragged couch are so clear in his gaze you can’t help but whine in utter anticipation and follow his every instruction.

So you leave his neglected cock and lift your hips high enough for him to drag down his fingers and play with your folds instead. His touch is soft at first, tentative even, but all the more enticing. It makes your desire grow deeper, it makes your body quiver with impatience and expectancy and he loves every little second of it. To torture you like this, to slowly drive you insane before throwing you over the edge of utter bliss makes him feel absolutely dizzy and just like an addict, it keeps him wanting more of it.

“You’re so wet,” he mutters under his breath and you let out a strangled whine in response that has him chuckling lightly underneath you. The teasing glint in his eyes, that little smirk that pulls his lips slightly upwards to the side make you want to lean forward and kiss him until you run out of breath but oh, that thought gets swiped away in an instant by the sudden intrusion of two of his fingers right inside your sex.

Your head falls backwards, your muscles tense and your jaw slacks as your walls contract around his heavenly fingers, adjusting to the stretch so quickly he has another finger plunged deep inside of you in an instant. You call his name once more, let a trembling breath escape your parted lips and Jeongguk takes that as an encouragement to pump his fingers in and out of you. The pace is torturously slow and it has you wetting your lips over and over again whilst your arousal grows bigger and bigger, trailing down your thighs.

His fingers curl into you and you hiss, bite your bottom lip and go rigid on top of him and the sight is so beautiful he does it again and then once more just to see you crumble and tremble and give in into the impossible pleasure spreading through your limbs like liquid fire.

He lifts himself up enough to bring his mouth to your naked breasts and envelope one of your nipples with his soft rosy lips. You gulp down heavily and find purchase onto his raven locks with one of your hands while the other one ventures out between your lifted legs to seek his erection and brush your fingers against it.

The little grunt of appreciation that comes with the simple touch spreads a smile on your lips, encourages you to wrap your fingers around it to pump it a few times, spreading your juices all over his hard length.

“I want to feel you,” you mutter under your breath and Jeongguk’s teeth pull a little on your turgid bud making you hiss in both pleasure and pain.

When his eyes fix on you, a long shiver runs down your spine. Goosebumps gather on your flesh and your heart turns rampant in your chest, “Then ride me, baby.”

The pressure of his fingers inside your core disappears as quickly as it came and it leaves you startled, contracting around nothing but thin air and mourning the sudden loss. His invitation, though, hangs in the air heavy like stones and thick like fog. And it is that invitation, the temptation in taking the lead that prompts both of your hands to push on his chest until he’s flat on the couch once more, looking up to you with all the desire burning deep inside his stomach.

It is still him that guides you, though, encourages you to take command and make him yours. It’s his fingers that wrap around his length to align himself to your dripping sex. It’s his free arm that wraps around your stomach and pulls you down so that you can finally meet his member and it’s still him that pushes you down just enough for the tip of his cock to brush against your sleek folds.

Wetting your lips, with your eyes pointedly fixed on his, you sink onto him then, ever so slowly, just so you can bask in the sensation of being filled up to the brim for the first time in weeks and let it last for as long as possible. Jeongguk lets out a sigh underneath you, his eyes closing as he lets go to the blissful sensation that is your walls contracting around him, welcoming him back with a tight embrace that already menaces to cut his oxygen intake short.

His free hand finds the supple curve of your ass and wraps around it as you sink completely onto him and let out a pleased sigh at the sensation of him filling you whole. You find purchase on his chest as you lift your hips back up ever so slightly and when his eyes find yours once more and lock you there, you start moving on top of him.

The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin fills the empty apartment, quickly followed by your soft sighs, readily amplified by both of his hands squeezing your bottom cheeks.

Jeongguk’s mouth hangs open, his eyes fixed on your face as you quicken your pace on top of him, rolling your hips every now and then just to hear his grunts, just to feel his nails dig into your flesh more and in a way that is bound to leave half-moon shaped marks scattered across it.

You arch your back a little and lean back to rest your hands on his knees instead and roll into him faster, pushing him deeper until he’s brushing against your cervix in that delicious way that always brings you crumbling down in the span of a few minutes. The guttural sound that escapes from deep down your throat makes him desperate to hear more and to feel the delectable way your walls would squeeze him at the apex of your high. It is then that one of his hands leaves your bottom cheeks in favour of your swollen bud, the very trigger of your pleasure.

The way you call his name then drives him absolutely insane, convinces him that his name has never sounded so beautiful before and oh, it turns his fingers fervent, prompts his hips to roll up into you to meet you halfway, faster and deeper and that’s how you lose your battle for control, that is how you end up giving in to him and letting him claim you with everything he has to offer.

Jeongguk’s hips snap into yours in time with the furious pace of his digits atop your clit, drawing perfect circles on to it that turn you blind and deaf to your own screams and mewls of ecstasy. He calls your name with a deep grunt but you cannot hear it when your ears are ringing so loudly, when your heart is beating so fast inside your chest it might explode soon, when your vision completely disappears and your body starts to quiver on top of his as you lose control.

The pleasure hits you like an unexpected wave of cold water and it steals your breath and sanity away. You come all around him mewling out loud his name and in that moment it doesn’t matter that you might stir awake some monster, that you might reveal your location to the nightmares waiting for you, no, all that matters is the pleasure and how absolutely paradisaical this moment feels.

Jeongguk’s eyes of charcoal are the first thing you see when you finally open yours, when the pleasure subdues and you come back down on Earth, to the here and now. And it’s those eyes of fire that make you rock your hips into him, that make you lift your ass and slap it back onto his thighs hard and fast.

The sounds that erupt from his mouth are like music to your ears and they guide your every movement and oh, you’d bring him down with you like this over and over again but Jeongguk begs you to slow down, to let him enjoy this moment a little bit longer until he has no choice but to paint your walls white.

“Turn around, baby,” he instructs after wetting his lips, his voice deep and hoarse and filled with the passion and desire driving his every movement, his every word.

His legs spread to welcome your ass right between them and as you find purchase on the couch, you let your sex sink back onto him, rejoicing in the new stretch this position provides.

A string of curses escapes his mouth drawing a little wicked smirk on your lips and prompting your hips to snap into his harder. Your hands are both sprawled on the couch to keep yourself standing enough to keep this perfect angle that is bound to turn the both of you absolutely insane. Your body is still quivering with the aftermath of your first orgasm and the lightheaded sensation that still lingers in your system makes your hips move furiously on top of his, drawing all kind of beautiful sounds from his parted lips.

You turn your head back enough to fix your eyes on his face, watch the way it morphs with pleasure. You call his name once, twice in a row and Jeongguk grunts and snaps his hips back into you, hard and fast to the point he’s about to erupt deep inside of you. You can see it in his eyes: the desire, the wanton need, the desperate search for his own release and the more you look at him like this, the more he fucks into you like this, the faster your heart beats, the harder your blood flows in your veins.

Jeongguk’s hips slow down, his bottom lip trembles with the breath that escapes from his lungs and he doesn’t have enough time to utter his next words, to explicitly say what he so desperately desires from you because you push your hips back once more, roll them onto his turgid shaft and fuck yourself on him, impale yourself on his cock until you are crumbling, breaking to tiny pieces right within his grasp. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of your quivering limbs, off of your ass still bouncing up and down in front of him, off of his cock plunging deep in and out of you. It is then that he takes the lead once more, pushes you flat on the couch so that he can stand on his knees and pound deep inside of you.

His hips snap into yours so hard and fast you don’t have a spare second to catch your breath, to allow yourself to come down from this impossible high. You mewl his name as his hands find purchase on the small of your back and he roughens up his pace, grunts your name in a row, tells you how impossibly good you feel so tight around him, squeezing him to madness. And you drink up all those words, eat them up like a famished woman on a deserted island and oh, do you galvanize him even further with your sighs of ecstasy, with your pleas for him to fuck you harder, faster, stronger.

If you close your eyes you can almost see his luscious thighs, the way his ass snaps with his hips as he pushes deep inside of you, the way his back contracts with the effort of keeping himself standing right above you, the way sweat shines on his golden skin like fine pearls. You can almost see his raven hair getting wet and stick to his forehead and to his neck and oh, how you’d love to tug on those strands, elicit a hiss out of him and throw him over the edge just like that but instead, it’s Jeongguk that leans forward to grasp your hair, tug on it until you have no choice but arch your back and tilt your head back.

Your eyes open to bore into his as you bite your bottom lip for him, heave out a sigh of ecstasy that is quickly followed by a string of pleas for him to cum right inside of you like this, fill you up to the brim on this ragged couch inside an apartment that isn’t your own, in a city you have never seen before.

Jeongguk grasps your neck then, pushes his fingers on the soft skin deep enough to cut the oxygen intake in half and then he kisses you fully on the mouth, claims your lips with the same ferocity set right between your legs and just like that, you come once more and as your orgasm coils down your thighs and soils the couch further, he shoots his pleasure deep inside of you. You feel his hips snap and still as he lets out a deep grunt of liberation, you feel his hands quiver on your neck and on the small of your back, you hear the stream of little curses that leave his mouth as his orgasm just keeps on coming and coming and coming and you don’t have to look to know his eyes are trained on your sex, dripping with the mixture of both of your pleasures.

The sight of you like this leaves Jeongguk breathless, it leaves him wanting more of this, more of you, it leaves him wishing he could fuck you just like this for the rest of your lives without having to think about anything else outside those four walls. His fingers leave your neck then, allow you to breathe in freely as he slowly drags his cock out of you in favour of his mouth because hell, ever since you started undressing him, this is all he could think about. His tongue brushes against your sleek folds and a deep shiver runs down your spine, followed by a whimper. You call his name softly in question, you tilt your head a little to the side just so you can glimpse at his face but Jeongguk’s answer comes in the form of his tongue flattening completely atop your sex and in the deep grunt that erupts from deep within his throat. The taste of your pleasure mixed with his own is inebriating, quite potentially addicting and so very sweet he just can’t help but gather it all on the tip of his tongue, careful not to waste a single drop of it.

“You taste so good, baby,” he mutters under his breath and you shiver at the lewd words, at the way his eyes are still trained on your sex with all that passion burning deep inside of them. Your body falls completely on the couch then, your ass slightly tilted upwards to offer him the perfect view and angle to keep tasting you like this with his relentless tongue. He laps at your folds, lets his tongue move right between them to gather the nectar he so desperately craves right from the source, oh so delectably deep within you and when you start trembling slightly, when soft sighs start leaving your pretty and swollen lips, he decides to attack your clit too, suckle on the sensitive bud until you are fisting the couch beneath you and begging him to keep on going even though you know you cannot take much more, even though literally every single muscle in your body is aching right about now.

His hands grasp your hips, keep you perfectly still as he devours you whole and he doesn’t stop, not even to catch his breath, until you’re a quivering mess all over again, mewling his name and coming all over his face. And Jeongguk, oh, he loves every second of it and still makes sure to welcome every drop of your pleasure on his tongue to gulp it down and feed on its sweet and sour taste as if this were the very first time.

Your body gives out and you let yourself go completely, close your eyes while coming down from your high and every word that leaves his mouth is muffled by the loud ringing in your ears, by the heavy breaths that leave your heaving chest, by the loud drumming of your heart.

It’s the tenderness of his touch, the way his arms envelop you whole that bring you back to the present, to the empty apartment and it’s his lovely lips on your forehead as he pulls you up to welcome you in his tight embrace that keeps you from falling into a deep slumber.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he whispers, chuckling slightly at the way you hum while closing your eyes, genuinely fighting against the need to just shut down and recharge.

He hums then, places another soft kiss on your temple and tangles your limbs together while making himself comfortable on the raggedy couch.

“Sleep then, baby. We have a big day ahead of us and I want to leave as soon as we can after going out to find some food.”

A smile forms on your lips then and you nod your head a couple of times. Yes, for a second you almost forgot about your dream and how it’s about to become reality, how close you are, at last to the final destination.

So tonight, you fall asleep with no fear of tomorrow, you fall asleep in the blink of an eye without having to trick yourself into closing your eyes and shutting down all of your thoughts. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, you sleep peacefully in his arms without a single nightmare coming to haunt your dreams. Tonight, the happy memories running through your head behind those closed lids do not burn and turn to ashes, no, they shine brighter than a thousand suns because, for the first time in weeks, you actually believe they could turn into reality soon.

There are some things you can feel in your guts long before they happen. They just sit there, on the pit of your stomach, to make you nervous, nauseous and restless even though you don’t know what they are just yet.

When you wake up and lift your head from his naked chest just so you can stare at his beautiful, peaceful face, you instantly know it’s one of those days. The nervousness sips into your system all at once, cutting your breath short, turning your heart into a caged bird eager to escape. Yet, you don’t utter a single word because today it’s a big day. The day.

You don’t say a word when he kisses you as soon as he wakes up nor when he makes plans for your departure. You don’t even say anything when he puts his almost-empty bag behind his back and walks out the door to scout for some food to bring with you on your trip to salvation.

A lot of words are wasted and gulped down, trapped in the deepest recess of your being where no one can see them or hear them except yourself. And those words menace to choke you, to burn you and consume you until nothing but ashes are left as you wait for him sitting on that same couch you made love on top of last night.

You wait. And wait. And the seconds tick by turning into minutes that turn into hours and the longer you wait, the worse you feel and it’s when your head is starting to spin, when it becomes too hard for you to breathe, when it’s impossible for you to focus on anything else that isn’t the worst-case scenario that you finally get up from the damn couch, pull the backpack on your shoulders and leave the apartment.

Smoke welcomes you back into the real world outside your happy bubble. It stings your eyes, it makes them water and has you coughing out in desperate need of clean air and you know the wiser thing would be to run back to the relative safety of the apartment but the uneasiness in your stomach grows bigger and bigger, dilating like oil at sea, menacing to take over every single cell you’re made of. So, you walk. Walk away from your pretty perfect house, the one you built out of cards last night even though you knew it was going to inevitably collapse soon, the one where you sought peace and happiness and hope for a bright future. You leave it all behind because you have no other choice but to.

The eerie silence of the city is one you’ve experienced countless of times before and therefore you know it’s nothing but the quiet before the storm hits, a trap to make you lower your guard enough for the monsters to attack and take you down with them and as you walk through the deserted and unknown alleys, the feeling of being followed and watched takes over, prompts your legs to move faster just in case you need to start running for your life.

You’ve never been out on your own before. You always had Jeongguk to guide you, to protect you. It takes just a few minutes on your own out there to realise how much you depend on him, how bloody helpless you are on your own out here in the real world where nothing goes according to plan and you can’t count on anyone except for yourself. Again, you realise how lucky you had been all your life, how many little things you took for granted and it makes you wonder if this isn’t some sort of punishment or even a lesson being taught to whole humanity so that one day, the few survivors can learn from it and not repeat the same damn mistakes they’ve made before.

The sound of your name breaks the silence, cuts it in half, rips it to shreds. You whip your head around in the direction of the sound and it’s Jeongguk that you see right there, running through the wreckage the monsters have left behind in that unmistakable way that can only mean one thing: run or perish. So you outstretch your arm for him, lace your fingers together and start running right alongside him without asking a single question and without even looking behind your back.

Your heart soars with relief and gratitude for his salvation and that emotion slightly subdues the uneasiness in your stomach, slowly puts it to sleep as your feet hit hard on the bitumen while you trace your steps back to the apartment, its four safe walls and most importantly the car waiting for you there, that very car that promises to take you the hell away from all of this once and for all. Your grasp around his fingers tightens and as it does, his eyes land on you and that little smile of his twists his lips, at last, to bring warmth to your heart and body, to bring peace to the raging war inside your head.

The apartment’s door slams shut behind your backs and you both press your bodies on it to keep it firmly shut as you try and catch your breath. It is only when you feel his body relax against yours that the words come out.

“What happened?”

Jeongguk grimaces, shakes his head while closing his eyes while a little sigh escapes his lips, “I let my guard down. I was so sure those fuckers were far away deep down the city’s core I was surrounded in an instant. There were so fucking many…”

Your hand comes to his cheek and he leans into the touch immediately, without even noticing. The warmth of your touch placates his heart and brings his eyes on you. They are sweet and filled with love and you can’t help but lean in to kiss his lips.

“It’s ok. We’re alive and we’re about to get the hell away from here.”

Jeongguk smiles at you, nods his head a couple of times before pulling you fully into him, wrapping his loving arms around you and then resting his head in the crook of your neck. He insists that your perfume still lingers there up to this day and it doesn’t matter how much you tell him it is not possible, that any trace of your favourite perfume has long gone, he still claims that as his favourite spot that tastes and smells just like you.

Your fingers find purchase on his shirt, tug on it to bring him even closer, so close there is not a single inch of your bodies that is not touching and it’s right then that the bubble bursts, at last. It takes nothing more than a small touch, a little brush of your fingers against his skin.

Jeongguk hisses in pain and your heart stops.

Jeongguk releases you from his embrace and his eyes full of horror and dread fix on your face, cutting the air out of your lungs.

Jeongguk lifts his shirt up to reveal a red, bloodied mark on his left hip and your world crumbles for the second time in just two weeks.

Jeongguk takes in a sharp, trembling breath and tears start rolling down your cheeks as you furiously shake your head, frantically denying to yourself the truth laid out right before your eyes.

Jeongguk calls your name, puts both of his hands on your cheeks to brush the tears away but it’s a lost battle when they keep coming and coming like water pouring out of a splintered dike.

Tears fall from his eyes too. Thick as pearls, clear as glass, rare as diamonds. And you hate them because the more you look at them rolling down his cheeks, the more real it gets.

“N-no, no, Jeonggukie, no,” your bottom lip quivers, your voice breaks, your body trembles under his gaze as if an earthquake has been trapped right inside of you and it’s now breaking loose, erupting deep within you. You choke on your tears as you grab both of his arms with all the strength you have left in you, pull him into you as if that would stop the venom from spreading and taking his beautiful heart away, “Please.”

You don’t know if your plea is for him to tell you that it’s going to be ok, that this is just a nightmare, nothing to be scared of when you’ll soon open your eyes anyways and realise how stupid you were being or if it’s for some deity up there to help you, to grant you another miracle.

You don’t know but either way, it falls on deaf ears and it doesn’t matter how much you cry and scream and beg and pull him into you, nothing changes. You had your chance, didn’t you? You were granted a wish, a proper miracle back inside that car less than twenty-four hours ago. That was it, that was your first and final ticket and you carelessly used it, without even thinking, without even… You break. There are a million tiny pieces of yourself right there on the ground, sprawled across the dirty floor like an impossible puzzle to rearrange.

“Baby.” His voice is soft. No trace of the fear he feels right inside his heart, not a single trace of the anger and despair running through his veins. His last gift to you, the only thing he has to offer, it would seem, is his feigned peace of heart and mind, “Baby, listen to me.”

You don’t want to listen because deep down, you already know what he’s going to say and you do not want to hear those words, you don’t want to have to remember them ever leaving his mouth. So you fight him, yank away from his arms, try to run from him and the new reality that you’ve been thrown into but there is no hiding, no running this time. It’s game over, right there above your heads, written in crooked and red all caps.

“Listen to me!”

It would be easy to close your eyes and let yourself drift inside that happy land full of memories you retract to whenever things get too intense and heavy but his eyes are filled with raging fire, dancing flames of coal that hold your gaze on him, trap you there so that you can’t escape, not even for a second, not this time.

“There is a gun inside my bag, I want you to take it and—”

“NO!” The scream that erupts from your mouth scratches your throat, burns you from the inside out with the same force of those flames still trapping you there, within the tight grasp of his hands on your shoulders.

“Please, baby,” one of his hands moves to caress the top of your head and you close your eyes to relish into the touch knowing it will probably be your last. You lean into his hand as it reaches one of your cheeks once more and the softest sob escapes your parted lips as you try with all your might to deny the fact that it is over, that this is it and there is no going back.

“Please don’t make me do it,” your voice breaks, quivers helplessly as you open your eyes once more, fix them back into his beautiful, shining ones. You can see the pain there, the guilt and despair laced with the fear of doom but what you see is nowhere close what Jeongguk really feels.

He’s scared. Scared beyond belief and far more than he has ever been. He’s scared of the unknown, he’s scared of the pain, he’s scared of leaving you behind like this, of what will happen to you once he is gone and nobody is left to protect you. He is scared of what you’ll do to yourself after he… but he has no choice, he has no fucking say in all of this and he hates himself for everything. He hates himself for being weak in his final moments, for not having the courage to do it himself but most importantly for allowing this to be your last time together. It shouldn’t be like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But all these thoughts, all those words, they never leave his mouth. No. What comes out of his mouth is a reminder and a plea, all in one.

“You promised. We promised.”

It hits you just like a slap across the face, one so hard it would tilt your head to the side and turn the skin tender and boiling hot to the touch.

You remember that night. Sleeping under the stars in a dark alley trying to breathe as silently as possible to not gather the attention of the monsters roaming through the city, you laced your fingers together and promised with nothing but the night sky as your witness to never let yourselves become one of those soulless monsters. You promised while praying in your heart it’d never come the day either one of you would have to abide by it.

And now here you are.

“Don’t let me become one of them, baby, please. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Tears roll down his cheeks, harder and faster than ever before and each droplet breaks you a little more until truly, you feel like nothing of you is left. In this moment, you give up everything you’ve ever been. In this moment, you rip your soul to shreds and part ways with it knowing you’ll never be reunited with it in this life.

The sense of void engulfs you, swallows you whole and all you can hear are his words on repeat and oh, all you can see are those beautiful eyes of his pleading you to do it and you don’t know if it’s your hands that reach for his backpack to seize the gun nestled inside of it or if someone—or something—else is guiding your trembling fingers but, in an instant, the gun is there, right within your grasp and pointed straight to his head.

Jeongguk is looking at you and he tries to smile, tries to regard you with all the warmth filling his heart but he can’t hide the fear that is trapping him there, cutting the air out his lungs, turning his heart restless against his ribs. He fears everything but what he fears the most is what he’ll become if he doesn’t die right here, right now. So he forces himself to smile, he forces himself to nod, he forces his eyes to close and a sigh to move past his lips.

The bang echoes in your ears.

The bullet goes right through his head and yet you can fill it stuck right inside your heart instead, twisting into the flesh until you cannot breathe or think and all that is left is the pain and the scream of agony that leaves your trembling lips.

The gun slips from your quivering hands and hits the hard ground and your eyes fix on it long enough to notice the pool of red tinting the floor, soiling the carpet, slowly reaching for your shoes.

His blood.

You fall on the ground and break into tiny frail shreds of porcelain, so sharp they could cut deep into the skin, infiltrate under it and kill you from the inside out.

Your quivering hands are lost inside your hair, fisting them so hard you might pull them from your skull but you do not care nor feel any of the pain spreading through your body. No, not now when your eyes are fixed on what remains of his beautiful face. Those eyes that used to hold galaxies in them are void now, dark and lifeless like a night sky without a single star. Those pretty rosy lips you kissed until yours ached are now pale and turning cold, stuck in a perpetual “o” of utter shock. Those warm and delicate hands that used to hold you, caress you, explore you are now grasping nothing but the thin air and you open them to lace your fingers with them one last time.

One.

Last.

Time.

The desperate cries come then.

You are deaf to your own screams, blind to the tears coiling down your face, oblivious to the way your body shakes with each strangled breath, with each inconsolable sob. You throw yourself on his motionless body, rest your head atop his chest as if he were nothing more than asleep and you cling to his shirt begging him to hug you back just like he used to, reassure you that it’s all going to be ok, that this is just another one of your crazy nightmares, that none of this is real.

But when you open your eyes he’s still lying motionless on the ground, his eyes are still void and staring up at the ceiling and his arms are still sprawled on the floor and not tucked around your body to keep you safe. And the worst part of it is that this is all because of you. You did this to him.

The bang echoes in your ears again, louder and louder with each passing second and closing your eyes doesn’t work anymore because now, all you see behind those closed lids is his dead face and those bottomless black eyes.

Everything breaks inside of you, everything shatters and falls helplessly on the soiled floor to join him and fly away with him to a place far away from here. And oh, how much you wish you could join him, that you could pick up that damn gun, point it to your head and just let the last remnants of your soul go so that you won’t have to face this or live through this a second longer but you don’t and you try to tell yourself it’s because you are a coward, that it’s because deep down you want to survive no matter what because it would be easier to accept that, it would be easier to just loathe yourself and think the most despicable things about yourself but, alas, it wouldn’t be the truth. No, even now, even when his eyes cannot see you anymore, even when his voice cannot reach you, and his hands cannot hold you, you’re still doing everything for him.

If you close your eyes, if you focus on the silence surrounding you hard enough to tune out the loud bangs ricocheting through your consciousness, you can almost hear him begging you to keep on living, to keep on fighting for your dream so that his death is not in vain, so that not everything is lost. But even still, it is not enough for you to lift yourself up, for your legs to move and bring you out of this apartment, out if this forsaken town. It is not enough for you to actually stand up and fight for your life, for a chance at survival, for an actual future. So you stay there, on the floor, with your arms wrapped around him and your head resting on his immobile chest. And you remain there for hours, crying until there are no tears left to cry, until your eyes burn and your throat aches, until the sun goes down and you are enveloped in darkness.

You stay there, motionless just like him except for the steady rise and fall of your chest and not even the noises coming down the hallway, not even the sound of steps startle you, prompt you to leave him behind and run to safety.

Your eyes move to the door as it swings open and you’re almost ready to welcome your end without even trying to put up a fight but it is not a monster that stands right there, on the edge of this apartment door. No, it’s a human and that human is pointing a gun straight to your head.

“Fuck!”

The man curses, takes a step back and pulls his gun away from your face to point it on the floor instead.

“You’re human.” He says and you notice how deep his voice is, warm like honey and comforting like a lover’s hug, “I almost shoot you in the head.”

The man’s eyes look kind even though the shock is still written all over his face but that warmness disappears in an instant as he finally takes in the scenery before him: a pool of blood, a pair of void eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, a gun abandoned on the floor not too far away from your feet.

It is clear from the way he looks at you that he’s seen this before, probably even lived through it and the tenderness in his gaze, the way he takes careful steps towards you, the way he softly calls for you with a simple ‘hey’, oh, they all bring the tears and despair back and within seconds you are sobbing all over again and so hard your body shakes and menaces to actually splinter with the force of your pain. It is then that this stranger’s arms engulf you, surround you just like the tallest and safest towers ever created by mankind and you let him because you need this, you need someone to hold you together even for just a few seconds and even if you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours.

“Joon, the whole floor is clear, looks like we found somewhere for a good night’s sleep tonig—oh…”

There’s another man standing at the door now, his eyes big as saucers as he takes in the scene before his very eyes and you watch how his mouth opens and closes as he struggles to put together the whole thing and honestly, if this were a movie it would almost be amusing and comical but even the hope to wake up and discover it was all part of a nightmare, a recreation of your mind after watching a stupid horror movie alone in the middle of the night is now gone, completely erased.

“Yes, bring the others in, we’re going to stay.”

The other boy looks up at the stranger still holding you—Joon?—with questioning eyes but doesn’t dare to speak a single word and instead retreats to the end of the corridor in utter silence.

“It’s just four of us,” he says then, looking down at you with a tender smile, “We need somewhere to stay for the night and you probably shouldn’t be alone right now.”

He welcomes your silence with a slight nod of his head and then his arms are gone and you almost reach out for him to beg him to keep you in his embrace until you’re sure you’re not going to break apart into thousands of pieces but you don’t. Too afraid to ask, too scared to even dare to.

“We’re headed to the Refuge. Have you heard of it? It’s quite close at this point, if the rumours are true. It’s a community of humans that has successfully kept those fuckers out.”

“We…we were going there too.” Your voice is small and croaky, barely above a whisper but in the silence of the apartment, he hears your words loud and clear and responds to them with a hum.

“You could come with us.”

His words are simple yet they startle you, they prompt your eyes to fix back on Jeongguk’s lovely face and suddenly you are hyperventilating because no, you can’t leave him behind like this, you can’t leave his body here for those monsters to feed on. You just can’t.

The stranger’s arms are around you in an instant once more, his voice is soothing in your ears as he tries to calm you down, to stop the tears and the choking sobs but all his words fall on deaf ears as you start breaking apart all over again. You scream and cry your heart out and he lets you, he doesn’t leave your side again though, no, he keeps you right there within his embrace and he doesn’t give up and it does not make sense for someone you’ve barely even met to care so much about you, to have this much patience but maybe, maybe after seeing so much horror, after parting with so many different people just like you did he decided not to leave anyone else behind if he can, not even random girls met in an empty apartment in a forsaken, nameless city on a crumpled map.

“I know it’s hard but it’s going to be ok, I promise. You can’t give up now, ok? We’re so close, so freaking close and I didn’t know him but if he cared about you just as much as you evidently care about him, I’m sure he’d want you to move on, he’d want you to fight and win this battle and survive.” His words do come through this time and they should probably soothe your heart but they break it harder because no, he didn’t know Jeongguk but then why do his words match him so well he could have said them himself? You know he’d want you to follow them, to bring yourself to salvation and wasn’t that exactly what you told yourself while embracing his dead body all those hours ago?

The stranger breaks the embrace enough to look inside your eyes, to tentatively reach out to dry your tears and there is so much affection in his gaze, in the careful way he touches you, in the little dimpled smile he shows you and you already know, you’ll never be able to thank him enough for all of this.

“Who are you?” Your question comes out as a trembling whisper yet he catches on to it and smiles harder, pulls his gaze away from your face as his cheeks turn a lovely shade of coral. What you meant to ask was if he’s an angel, someone sent from up above to save you and guide you through this difficult path and maybe he gets what you mean or maybe he doesn’t but still, he replies and it’s the easiest answer he could ever give you, “I’m Namjoon.”

It is then, as you whisper his name and get acquainted with it that the other boy returns, followed by two more young men and their belongings which, just like yours, fit all inside a single bag.

“This is Jimin,” the boy next to you points to the shortest one of the bunch and you watch him blush as he slightly bows down while chewing on his bottom lip. He was the one that found you and Namjoon on the ground and his eyes still spark with curiosity but he doesn’t dare ask any questions and you are grateful for that.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon says, pointing towards the guy standing right next to Jimin, his fingers laced around the other boy’s in an unequivocal way that reminds you in an instant of the way Jeongguk always used to hold your hand any chance he got, especially the past few weeks.

“And that is Seokjin.” The last boy waves at you and the discomfort in his features is enough for you to pull your gaze away from him and fix it back on the ground.

No matter how much you try, you can’t shake the fact that this is wrong, that all of this is just wrong. You staying here, those boys standing here all around you, invading the privacy of this place and what it holds in it and you hate that this is somewhat normal to them—and to you—that it doesn’t shock humans anymore to find others with holes in their heads or even worse.

Silence envelops you and none of them breaks it and it stretches on and on until you can’t take it anymore, until it feels like you cannot breathe anymore.

“He was bitten,” you utter then, voice trembling and tears falling on your cheeks slowly like fat, translucent pearls. “He asked me to… I had no choice but… He—His name is-was Jeongguk.”

The boys bow their heads when you lift your head up and you can see the sadness in their eyes, the recognition and understanding that comes with experiencing all of this on your own skin, with your own eyes and maybe that’s why you don’t say anything when Namjoon slowly pulls Jeongguk away from your arms, maybe that’s why you let Seokjin lift you up from the ground in favour of the couch, maybe that’s why you let them touch him, close his eyes, pull him away and clean his blood off of the floor the best they can.

“We’ll bring him with us, we’ll bring him to the Refuge and spread his ashes there, away from all of this. What do you say?”

“Why are you doing this for me?” You look up to Namjoon while you hug your legs close to your chest and in that moment you don’t realise how ungrateful you must sound to him, questioning him and his motives over and over again instead of thanking him with all that you’ve got but he doesn’t comment on it, no, he offers you a gentle smile and a little sigh that holds all the exhaustion he must feel in it.

“Because there’s too little of us left to not care about each other at this point.”

Those words warm your heart, they warm your shivering body and move you in ways you didn’t think possible anymore. That little part left of your soul holds onto his words, onto the hope he provides and it hangs on to it with both nails and teeth refusing to let go and it’s that part of you that makes you open your mouth once more but this time, it is to offer some help and not just throw more burden to the mix.

“We found a car. It still has fuel in it and we planned to use it to reach the Refuge.”

Maybe this was all meant to be. Maybe, you were meant to meet and save those boys and they were meant to find you and pull you back together in the darkest hour of your life. Yes, maybe it was all written in the stars and it might not be fair because life, you’ve learned, hardly ever is but when your eyes land on the tall white walls of a city hidden in the mountains the following night, all the puzzle pieces fit together.

You watch the flames dance, feel the warmth of the fire on your hands, rising up to your arms and slowly reach your face like comforting hands tying to caress your body.

The heat makes your eyes water, makes your skin feel impossibly hot and yet you don’t move a single inch and find yourself almost wishing those flames would actually reach out and claim you right along with him, burn you until there’s nothing but ashes to remind the world that once, you existed. But it’s not you that burns, no, it’s Jeongguk. You watch his lovely body disappear inside those flames: his strong arms that used to hold you, his rosy lips that used to kiss you and call your name so sweetly whenever you were together, those beautiful eyes of coal you always got lost in, that luscious raven locks you loved to run your fingers through or tug on depending on the mood… you watch it all burn and disappear.

There is a comforting hand on your shoulder. The touch is delicate and sweet, enough to soothe your aching soul without it being too invasive and you are glad for it, for his presence by your side. Kim Namjoon saved you in more ways than meet the eyes. He saved you two nights ago when he found you holding Jeongguk’s lifeless body, he saved you when he put you inside that car with his friends, he saved you when he successfully brought you here, to the Refuge, where you can now freely mourn your loss and do it right. This is the first proper goodbye you were granted ever since it all started and in this moment you part ways with the love of your life but also with your family and friends, with everyone you’ve ever met that turned into an impossible monster or perished before the venom could turn them into one. And you allow yourself to break a little because it’s ok, you’re allowed this one moment of weakness now, you’re allowed to cry your heart out for all the things you’ve lost during this fight.

Your knuckles turn white against the necklace around your neck. The sharp ends of the feather dig into your skin and you let it, hell, you even grasp it tighter as if trying to merge your hand with it as if that could somehow bring him back or let him live right inside of you to his fullest. The tears run faster down your cheeks because this, right within your grasp, is all there’s left of him: a necklace and your memories. Nothing more.

All that Jeongguk was, his past and present and future, they were all swept away in an instant, like dust under the force of the wind and you are the only one that remains to remember him, to tell his story to the world, to let him live on so that he won’t ever be forgotten amongst the millions of lives that were lost.

Just you, a necklace and a fist of ashes.

It’s with trembling fingers that you release them all in the air, let his entire being be swept away by wind so that it can cover the land all around you and be reborn in this field in the form of beautiful flowers, majestic trees, droplets of water to fill the river running down the hills.

The breeze is warm against your skin and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine his fingers caressing your body just like the wind is, you can almost imagine him embracing you through this air surrounding you, playing with your hair and enveloping your body.

For the first time in days, you smile. You smile at the thought of him being finally free and at peace right where he wanted to be, you smile at the thought of him looking down at you with his beautiful eyes, with pride shining in them. You smile at the thought of him nodding his head while patting yours, you smile at the idea of his fingers lacing with yours one last time as he says his goodbye with the promise of always looking down on you, of always protecting you, even from up there where nothing goes unseen. You smile and you thank him for loving you so much, for saving you countless of times even before the zombies arrived, even before you realized you were being saved and that you even needed to.

You thank him and tell him how much you love him, how you will never forget him, how you’ll keep cherishing him and keeping him right inside your heart for every second of your life from here moving forward and you repeat those promises you shared one year ago, on that altar, so that he knows you are his forever and no matter what, you’ll always belong to him just like him belonged to you until his very last breath.

When the touch of a hand warms your shoulders and brings you back on Earth, for a second you startle and foolishly hope to turn around and see him standing right there, smiling at you with his head slightly tilted to the side. But when you turn it’s not Jeongguk that welcomes you, no, it’s Namjoon with his timid smile, with eyes full of wonders and understanding and this time, your smile, incredibly, does not falter nor disappear.

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word and he doesn’t need to because you know, even though you’ve barely met him, that he is simply there for you, that he is offering you his support and friendship amidst those difficult times and you don’t tell him how grateful and touched you are but a part of you suspects he already knows.

Your eyes drift away from his face and it is then that you notice the other three boys standing a few steps back from the two of you, their eyes fixed on you and the deserted land right behind your back.

They came.

You don’t know when they arrived or if they’ve been there the whole time but either way, you are grateful for their presence too because at least, someone else besides you is here to say goodbye to the wonderful man that was Jeon Jeongguk and it does not matter that they never met him and that they never will, they are still here to accompany his soul somewhere far away from this nightmare and the smile on your lips spreads while tears run down your cheeks once more.

You thank them, your voice nothing more than a trembling breath and they smile back at you, nod their heads and join you right there, at the edge of this green cliff where it’s easy to imagine a new world full of peace and love.

You look up at the sky once more and as the silence envelops you and the boys once more, you whimper out your farewell.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk.”

The grass is soft and ticklish under your feet as you walk through the empty path that leads to your favourite spot: the edge of the hill.

A warm smile spreads on your lips and you unconsciously fasten your pace as your eyes land on the vast sea of green, the clear sky up ahead, the dozens of flowers scattered all over the valley.

“Hey there, handsome.”

Your voice breaks the silence of the heaven-like place, gets carried away by the gust of wind that welcomes you right there, in front of the marble stone where you are bound to be found every single day, right when the sun rises up in the sky and shines brightly on everything in sight.

Your fingers reach out to caress the marble, feel the crevices that make out his name right under your digits. You’ve done this countless of times before and yet you still hope one day they’d get engraved in your digits and stay there to accompany you every single hour for the rest of your life.

You heave out a little sigh as you let your body fall on the ground to hug your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them.

You know this is futile, you know that there is absolutely nothing of him right there, under the ground, that this is just a symbol of his existence, of the fact that once, a great man named Jeon Jeongguk walked the Earth and yet, you still come here every day to talk to him, to see him and remember him like he used to be before everything crumbled down and burned.

This time, it feels different though. Your smile falters a little, you divert your gaze and fix it on the ground to play with the grass, pluck with your fingers whilst you search for the right words to speak because you know, the moment they’ll hang up in the air they’ll become real and part of you is still not ready to face it all, to embrace the inevitable change coming your way.

“Today is the day,” you say then before biting down your bottom lip whilst lifting your gaze back up. In an instant, the tombstone disappears and sitting right across from you is Jeongguk. His eyes are sparkling, his lips are twisted a little to the side in a gentle smile and he is nodding his head in encouragement, urging you to speak up.

“We’re leaving in an hour.” Your voice is small and full with the uncertainty you feel blossoming right inside your heart.

Five years have passed since that night in that city in ruin. Five years spent in this Refuge trying to save and rebuild humankind. Five years of battles and uncertainties and pain, so much pain, but also joy and relief and victories and now, now the nightmare is over and what awaits for you outside this safe haven is a world similar to the one you left behind before the zombie appeared. A normal world rebuilt by those that were left behind, a world full of normalcy and opportunities and peace.

But you are scared. Scared of the future, scared of leaving this place that has kept you alive and safe for so long, scared of leaving him behind even though there is nothing of him left in this place anyways. But Jeongguk smiles at those words and it’s one of those dazzling smiles that used to make butterflies dance in your stomach, that used to turn your heart into a hummingbird, that used to make you feel as warm as the sun itself. You can almost hear his voice then, telling you how happy he is and that you should not be afraid, that he’ll still be right here for you, watching over you every step of the way.

It’s then that the tears come and fall down your cheeks. It’s then that you nod your head and promise him you’ll be back, one day, to sit just like this on this spot of grass in front of his tombstone. It is also then that a pair of small hands comes up your face, hides the sight of Jeongguk from you, throwing you into a pitch-black darkness that instead of fear brings nothing but laughter.

“My, my, who is this? Could it be my little monkey, by any chance?”

Yoona’s laugh fills the air as you turn around and welcome her in your embrace to tickle her to the point of tears. Her eyes shine as she looks up at you and you can see so much of him in there sometimes it’s almost painful to look at her but today, today it serves as a reminder that you’ll always have a part of him right beside you, no matter what.

“I’m sorry, _______. I tried to buy you a little more time but she just wouldn’t sit still.”

Namjoon’s voice reaches you then and as you lift your eyes you watch him stand there with his apologetic smile, dimples in full display as he shakes his head while watching your daughter struggling under the torture of your fingers on her belly.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. I was done anyways.”

You smile at your kid, bump your nose together with hers and hug her tight to your chest. She’s your little miracle, the very last gift he left behind before turning into ash and when you thought all of you was gone, when you thought you’ll never be able to love anyone else anymore, she came your way and filled your heart with all the love of the world.

You hear Namjoon’s steps as he walks away, allowing you one last moment with the love of your life and this is just one thing more to add to the list you are immensely grateful to him for. At this point, you are convinced not even an entire lifetime will be enough for you to be able to repay him or thank him enough for all that he has done for you all these years.

“Are you ready to leave, baby?”

Yoona nods her head in excitement. She’s the adventurous type, just like her dad used to be, and the thought of seeing the outside world thrills her so much she could barely sleep last night. This place is all she’s ever known, all she’s ever seen but you told her about the world outside those high walls made of stone, you told her stories about faraway places that look nothing like the Refuge, you told her fairytales from your childhood but also memories of yourself, her grandparents, her father and now that this world she’s been dreaming about is suddenly within her grasp all she wants to do is reach her little arm out and grasp it with all her might.

“Are you sad, mommy?” Her little palm rests on your cheek and it is then that you realise a few tears have escaped your control once more. You quickly brush them away but that is not enough to bring the smile back on her lovely face, to erase the worried expression twisting her features. “Is it because of daddy?”

She turns around towards the tombstone then before reaching out her little arm to feel the characters that make out his name under her digits, just like you always do. You know she is caressing his face now, that she’s making sure he knows how much she loves him even though she has never seen his face before, even though she has never heard his voice before and all she can do is imagine, fantasize and dream about him.

“Will daddy be sad if we leave?”

Her voice is small and your heart breaks a little and oh, it takes all your strength to keep the tears from falling now, to hold the pain deep inside of you where she can’t see it. You tighten your grasp around her, rest your chin on her tiny little shoulder so that you can place soft kisses on her cheek and reassure her that it’s ok, that you’re going to be ok and that no matter what, he’ll always be right beside her and all she’ll ever need to do is close her eyes to see him and feel him all around her.

“No, baby girl. Daddy will always be with us, no matter where we go and he’s happy, so so happy we’re going on a little adventure.”

She smiles a little, nods her head a couple of times before diverting her gaze to the necklace around her neck. She grasps the feather with her tiny fingers, brings it to her lips to kiss it lovingly and then she turns to you and the storm seems to have passed, just like that.

“Because he’s right here, right?”

She brings the necklace towards your face and you nod a couple of times before pointing right to her heart, “And right here.”

Yoona smiles her brightest smile and untangles from your embrace in favour of the tombstone. You watch her throw her arms around the marble stone and hug it tight to her chest and then you hear her whisper her farewell words—Goodbye, daddy. I love you.—and oh, your heart breaks all over again in an instant. And you would break too, right then and there, if it weren’t for her little smile and for Namjoon’s voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We have to leave soon.”

His voice is apologetic and full of understanding and you offer him and your daughter a gentle smile as you finally rise up from your spot. Your baby throws her arms around your neck as you lift her up and warmth spreads through your body as you hug her closer to remind yourself why you are doing this, why you are leaving all of this behind. For Yoona.

Namjoon’s hand finds your shoulder then as he throws one of his arms around you and even though he doesn’t speak a single word, you hear all of the things he wishes he could say to you and when you look at him, you silently thank him over and over again like you have been doing every single day of these past few years.

But your last words in this place are not reserved for him, no, they are for Jeongguk and only for him to hear.

Goodbye, my love. I will always love you.

A gust of wind caresses your cheeks then and you smile at the bright sky above your head because deep down, you know this is him touching you and when you close your eyes, just for a second, you can hear his voice through the gentle breeze, whispering right inside your ears.

Don’t fear, my love. I’ll always be by your side. I love you.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[pasteljeon]

Shadows (m)

summary | he could love you … if only you’d let him in.

genre | venom au, venom!jk, smut, angst

warnings | tentacle porn, oral (female receiving), edging, guk has a fat cock ana oop, size kink, sexual tension, mating cycles, heat sex (yeah, you read that right)

length | 1.9k

notes | i crawl out of retirement for this one (1) halloween fic that i’ve been dyin to write since forever. and, as some already know, this also just an excuse for tentacle porn. :D happy halloween everyone! wish i could’ve written sth longer, but it’s still midterm season for me & i’m beyond buried in work rn :”( regardless, please enjoy!

.

.

.

“Kook.”

Silence. The mass lying in the middle of the room remained motionless.

You sighed, forehead thumping against the one-way glass. Theoretically, you knew he wouldn’t be able to see you, but he could sense you. Feel your presence.

“Kookie. Please.” Your breath ghosted across the barrier.

The darkness shifted, a tendril reluctantly reaching to seek out your heat, pressed against where your palm was splayed on the other side.

“Miss ___.” You flinched, the monotone voice of your assistant startling you momentarily.

“The next trial begins in ten minutes. Should I bring the volunteer in?”

Her perfectly manicured nails tapped against the sleek black clipboard, sharp eyes unimpressed as they note your affection for the containment within.

Living organisms with compositions so extraordinary they were coveted as a chance to revolutionize humanity. A symbiotic relationship, they relied on molecular bonding with a host to survive. A symbiote. The term alien often whispered with every passing of fluttering white lab boats.

Simply put, they were experiments.

And you headed them all.

You glanced back briefly, only to find he’d already retreated, unmoving once more.

.

.

.

The research facility was intimidating, stripped white walls bare and plain, the building expansive and equipped with the latest technology. Endless floors filled with glass walls lining different divisions.

Within these walls, there was transparency. Outside of it, no one knew much at all.

The guilt chipped away at you slowly.

They were real. They felt. They were very much capable of the same human emotions your species processed. They hurt. Felt pain. Each compatibility failure was destroying them.

There were many that did not survive the crash. All that was left, scavenged from the space outreach initiative, were seven uniquely distinct specimens. All the equivalent of a male.

They all had binary identifications, but you gave them something else. A name.

Namjoon. He was exceedingly intelligent. The first few months had been spent attempting to establish ground communications with them. Namjoon had picked up your language easily, and it no longer shocked you to see a massive dark blob flipping through encyclopedias. He liked to read, consuming pages like oxygen. With every routine checkup, you’d deliver a few novels you’d enjoyed in the past. His upper section of his blobbed body would incline, and you’d imagine he was thanking you.

Seokjin was the eldest of the bunch, as concluded by your preliminary findings of their biological structure. Oddly enough, though it had been discovered early on that their kind could sustain themselves on anything, they still preferred human flesh. It didn’t make them dangerous, necessarily—you could teach them human ethics. For the most part, Seokjin tried not to nip at your ankles when you visited. As a substitute, you taught him how to cook. There was a mini kitchen set up in his quarantine, and some nights were spent with him stretching his mass over your shoulder and watching you work.

Yoongi was, kindly put, lazy. He slept most of the day, scarcely reacted when you tried to interact with him. You did, however, discover he liked music. He got speakers. Headphones made his head hurt, he once signed to you. Noise sensitivity.

Hoseok was so human it hurt. He was energetic, restless. He bounced around his containment. His own version of dancing, almost.

Taehyung and Jimin refused to separate. When you first examined them, you’d nearly mistaken them for one entity. Soulmates, if the concept existed in their world. They shared one cell, liked to tussle and fight one another.

Then there was Jungkook. He was shy, barely moved when you first met. If not for the pulse beneath his silk, there was no sign of life at all. You were endeared as he slowly broke from his shell. He liked you. You knew because you were the only one that could get close, that could touch him without repercussions. He’d killed his hosts, regardless of compatibility, thrice before they paused trials. He hated it more than any of them.

But here, they were safe.

And yet here, they were also being harvested. Used. To become the steppingstone in humanity’s evolution. Time was running out, and the private company that spearheaded the research was demanding results.

Here, they are to become weapons.

And you were going to break them out.

.

.

.

“Kook. Jungkook.”

Your voice was urgent, though steady.

Panic setting in heavy in your stomach when you saw him press himself closer to the wall.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I won’t let it touch you. But we need to get out of here, and fast. The building’s going to collapse,” you coaxed. The flames licked your back, warning you of the fire that blazed across the hall.  

He quivered, drawing away from your extended hand.

Fire. Bad. Hurts.

You bit back your gasp. His voice was low, a quiet rumble in your head.

You steeled your nerve. “I know. Bond with me.”

He stilled.

And then—mine. You belong to me. We are one.

And you said, “always.”

He shot to you, sinking beneath your flesh and making a home in the beating of your heart.

.

.

.

You disappeared.

As the building burned, so did all the data and files you’d accumulated over the years. The symbiote all dispersed, you having found a suitable host months prior. Some were friends, some were not. But they all cared, and you knew they would find sanctuary in a peaceful life with them.

So you let them go, and turned over a new page.

.

.

.

You monitored your vitals for the first few hours, fearing the compatibility would elude you.

Will not. Belong together. Us.

His thoughts echoed, though always soft.

“Where do you want to go?” You wondered aloud as you fingered the plane ticket in your hands.

Hungry, he said instead. You could feel him gnawing at your liver. “Don’t do that. You might accidentally split it.”

If he had lips, you imagined he’d be pouting.

Where we going? You had the feeling he was trying to read the slip.

“Somewhere cold.”

You hate cold.

“You hate the heat.” The first calls for boarding had you wheeling your luggage to the gates.

Don’t care. As long as we are together. Can go anywhere.

You smiled down at your passport, cheeks warm. “Yeah.”

.

.

.

It took time to adjust to a completely different lifestyle. Your previous line of work had compensated your risk generously, and you’d had enough foresight to invest and save wisely.

Here, you’d picked up a job as a pharmacist at one of the local drug stores. It was terribly mundane, but you found you liked this kind of routine. It was a welcomed change from the scars you’d collected. A sense of normality.

It was October when everything changed.

Jungkook had been restless lately. Distant. Withdrawn.

It’s like he’d curled up in the corner of your mind. Lethargic.

You knew the symptoms.

“Kook.” He stirred faintly at the sound of your voice.

Lover. He rumbles lowly, rousing slowly.

“Your heat. It’s coming soon.” You rolled over, the sheets pooling at your waist. A tendril wraps itself loosely around your calf.

Yes.

“What will you do?”

Another tendril creeps up your stomach, squeezing your breast firmly.

You.

.

.

.

Their heats were intense. Nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. While they only occurred once a full cycle, the need overwhelmed them, made them ravenous and delirious. And a human host? They served as aphrodisiacs. Enhanced the craving until it all but consumed them.

You woke in a feverish haze, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, panties shoved aside and thighs smeared with wetness.

“J-Jungkook!” You gasped, back arching as he fucked you harder.

“Love. My love,” he rasped, fingers curling, watching you come undone with dark eyes.

It was also the only time they could fully materialize.

He was ethereal, pupils blown out, a thin ring of gold visible in the ebony that threatened to swallow it all. Completely naked, tanned complexion stretching over corded muscles, he hovered over you, arms braced next to your head. His hair was soft, luscious and long, falling in waves over his forehead. Darkness mirrored his every movement, his true form rippling beneath the surface.

“Want you. Need you,” Jungkook groaned, gaze smoldering as he fisted your sleep tee. “Please.”

“Since you asked so politely,” you managed breathlessly. You took his hand and slipped it underneath, guiding it until he traced the underside of your breast.

He ripped the fabric apart, buttons flying as he shoved the offending material off your shoulders. “Need. Can’t control. Please.”

In spite of the inferno brewing within, he remained your ever sweet Jungkook. The shadows drew closer, the touch soft though frantic, mapping your body in long strokes. He buried his face in your cunt, abnormally long tongue driving you crazy with every lick.

“K-Kook, I c-can’t,” you sobbed, fingers gripping his locks as he coaxed another orgasm from you easily.

His palms, warm and large, spread your legs apart. His cock was intimidating, tip angry and throbbing, a tantalising vein running along the side. He was dripping with something akin to precum, the substance slightly lighter and thicker than the human equivalent.

The dark tendrils snaked around you just as he slammed into you.

Your moan was lost to his lips, kiss messy and wild, your mind blanking with every thrust and the stroke of his tongue. His tentacles tweaked and pulled at your nipples, twisting and teasing, others suckling at your clit while some were wrapped around his length, providing ridges that edged your sensitive core.

“Mine. Mine. Ours. Breed,” Jungkook chanted, the grip of his shadows tightening as if to brand their shape to your skin. It was too much.

“Y-yes, Koo, need you, need you just like this,” you cried out, walls spasming around him as you reached your high once more.

The bedframe rattled loudly, Jungkook’s pace increasing inhumanly as he pounded into you. “N-ngh—ah! L-love, so perfect, made for me. Thank you, thank you,” he moaned, hips stuttering as he came, filling you up hotly. So much it spilled from where he remained inside of you, dripping down your thighs.

His forehead rested against yours as he fought to quell his hunger for just a moment longer. Though his release brought brief clarity, the lust was already beginning to trickle back in. His cock twitched, the ache so profound his shadows latched onto you harder.

Your legs wrapped around his back, eyes soft as you said, “I’m all yours. Don’t hold back.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily. “Make me crazy.”

He nuzzled your neck, even as his dick pulsed, he pushed his nose into your jawline and whispered, “Lover. You and me. Until the end.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 43 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hola muffins! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Adore threw a tantrum, but it may have been justified.

This Chapter: Bianca has some ‘splainin to do, Courtney plays pretend, Violet gets some exciting news, and Fame has a workplace scare.

***

The first thing Bianca did when she got home on Friday was kick off her stilettos, giving her poor feet a break after the long week. The second thing she did was feed the dogs, her beloved chihuahuas jumping around like crazy while she filled their bowls and freshened up their water dishes. And the third thing? She emptied almost a full bottle of Cabernet into a wine glass, carrying it upstairs to her room.

She opened the door, flipped on the lights, and that’s when she nearly had a heart attack.

Adore, who was on the sofa in her bedroom sitting area, had apparently been waiting for her in the dark.

“Jesus fucking christ!” Bianca said, clutching her chest, a wine stain already spreading on her area rug where she’d spilled in fear.

“Hello Bianca.”

“What the fuck are you doing sitting here in the dark, you psychopath?” Bianca crouched down, examining the stain. “Fuck.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Normal people use a phone!” Bianca sighed, standing back up. “This rug is destroyed, by the way.”

Bianca pointed, doing her best not to spill again, the thought of having to make arrangements with a decorator already putting her on edge, but she guessed she’d just have Joslyn take care of it.

“Thank you for that.” Bianca shook her head, sitting down in the armchair across from Adore. “So, what’s going on?”

“I thought,” said Adore, “that you didn’t have any secrets from me.”

She looked wounded, like a child, and Bianca groaned internally. This had to be about Pearl.

“I don’t, pussycat.” Bianca set her wine down and leaned forward. “I’m an open book for you.”

It was true. There were things Adore knew that Bianca would never tell another soul--and vice versa. Bianca would never, for the life of her, lie to Adore. On the other hand, there were things that she just didn’t feel right bringing up.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you tell me about Fame and Pearl? Huh?” Adore accused.

There it was.

“That wasn’t my secret to tell,” Bianca offered, hoping that Adore would believe her. She wouldn’t have lied, not if she was asked a direct question, but why open up a can or worms if she didn’t have to? Why risk hurting Adore, why betray Fame’s trust, all for this ill-fated, hopefully short-lived relationship with Pearl fucking Liaison?

“Bullshit!”

“Adore…”

“No, I don’t understand. Because you say you love me, you want to protect me, but you lied to me, you lied, for months, and-”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you-”

“I’m gonna strangle you right now, bitch,” Adore said, seething with anger. “You fucking lied!”

The semantics argument would never work--Bianca could see that. So instead, she sighed, rubbing her temples, and changed tactics entirely. “Would it have made a difference?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“If I had told you everything. Broken Fame’s trust, told you all about everything I knew. Would it have changed the way you felt about Pearl? Would it have stopped you from liking her?”

Bianca knew her sister, knew that Adore would most likely have dug in her heels and wanted Pearl even more if a pseudo-parent figure had sat her down and tried to explain all the reasons why she was a terrible choice. If it was guaranteed to stop Adore from getting hurt, Bianca would probably have told her and risked Fame’s wrath.

“Well…” Adore paused, considering the question. “Probably not, but-”

“Well, there you go.” Bianca picked up her glass again and took a large sip. In all honesty, she felt a lot better that it had come out, especially without her having to be the one to tell. Maybe now, Adore would start to see Pearl for who she truly was.

“B…”

“Yes?”

Adore’s lip quivered, eyes shining with tears, and Bianca knew that she’d cave. She always did.

She moved to the sofa, wrapping Adore into her arms, her younger sister curling into her lap the way she used to, even if it was a bit ridiculous now, considering that Adore was so much taller than her.

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” she murmured into Adore’s hair as she rocked her.

“I need to trust you, B,” Adore cried, clinging to her. “I thought you were the one person who would always be honest with me.”

Bianca brushed her tears away, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Adore sniffled, nodding.

“What can I do to make it up to you? Hmm?”

“Can Pearl come to Thanksgiving?” Adore asked, perking up a little. The little rat seemed to have that answer ready awfully quickly.

“Ughh, Adore, you’re still with her?”

“Yes! She’s not the one who lied to me. She assumed I knew all along,” Adore said. “And besides, some of us are mature enough to handle real relationships.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. But…” Adore shrugged, “When’s the last time you dated someone longer than a month?”

“Fine. Pearl can come to Thanksgiving,” Bianca said. Anything to avoid the dreaded ‘why don’t you ever commit?’ conversation.

Adore’s face broke into a happy grin, throwing her arms back around Bianca’s neck.

“Thank you, B! I always knew you were my favorite sister.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

***

Pearl was humming along to the music in her headphones as she made her way towards the laundry room, basket under her arms. Normally, Katya was the one who washed everyone's clothes, even taking Pearl’s too, but this weekend, Trixie had taken her to Coney Island, and Pearl was nothing if not a good roomie.

At least when it suited her.

Pearl pushed the door open, fully expecting the basement to be devoid of anyone she knew, but instead of bumping into some random neighbor, she saw Violet bent over and pulling her clothes out of the washer.

Pearl smirked, leaning against the doorframe for a minute to watch Violet stretch, her ass absolutely delicious in the tight yoga pants she was wearing. Violet stood back up, still not noticing Pearl, and while Pearl didn’t mind peeking, she didn’t want to upset the truce between her and Violet, so she coughed, causing Violet to turn around.

“Oh.” Violet looked genuinely surprised, her hands filled with workout clothes. “Hi Pearl, I didn’t-” Violet paused, looking at the basket under Pearl’s arm.. “... Are you washing clothes?”

“Yes?” Pearl smirked, “Did you think I didn’t?”

“Honestly? I did… Think you didn’t?” Violet bit her lip, tilting her head. “I’ve never imagined you doing chores, ever.”

“Good to hear that you’re thinking about me, Chachki.” Pearl grinned, satisfaction curling up her spine.

“Sure.” Violet snorted, moving aside so there was room for Pearl to walk into the small room.

“A girl can dream.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself.” Violet smiled, pouring her own clothes into the dryer. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I think you think it suits me fine.” Pearl wiggled her brows. She knew that she probably shouldn’t be flirting with Violet, but it was impossible not to,  least of all when it was so fun.

“Whatever.” Violet rolled her eyes, but she still looked amused. She started the dryer, but didn’t make a move to leave, Pearl noticing that she had a thermos and a stack of magazines, Violet grabbing one of them.

“My my Vivi,” Pearl closed the lid on the washer. “Planning to sit on the dryer?”

“What? No, ew, Pearl!” Violet slapped her on the shoulder with the magazine. “Shut up!”

“You can’t make me.” Pearl grinned, getting up and leaning against the small table Violet had put her setup out on. “So what are we reading?”

***

“Tati!” Courtney called out, waving to get her friend’s attention in the crowded Port Authority bus terminal. They’d both realized how much they missed each other at the Halloween party, with Courtney working crazy hours and living all the way up in the Bronx, and Tatianna staying with her cousins in New Jersey.

The truth was that  Courtney had felt a bit disconnected from all of her friends recently. She still managed to at least text with Adore every day, but it was hard to keep up with everyone else--something she was determined to fix.

The girls hugged fiercely, then headed out, towards the cute brunch spot that Ivy had recommended. Courtney noticed right away that Tatianna seemed a bit reserved, not all all like her usual bubbly self.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, squeezing her friend’s hand as they waited for the light to change.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s been alright. I’m just getting a little bit frustrated with the whole modeling thing. I still haven’t found a decent agent, and all I keep on getting are these cattle calls. I just...ugh, sometimes I wonder if it’s all just a mistake.” She heaved a sigh, shoulders slumped, face dejected.

Courtney knew exactly how she felt. She’d gone through the exact same thing when she moved to New York, trying desperately to go on as many auditions as possible. It was so disheartening to feel invisible. But she knew that Tati would make it--she was so beautiful, one of the prettiest girls Courtney had ever known, and the photos Courtney had seen were amazing.

“Don’t give up. I know it’s hard, but...I really think you’re gonna get a break soon.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. And actually… Well, I don’t know what their casting process is, but I’ve gotten really friendly with the head of our makeup department. Maybe I can give her your photos?”

“Are you kidding? That would be the best fucking thing ever!” Tati exclaimed, beaming at her.

Courtney smiled, hoping that she wasn’t over-promising, but thrilled that she seemed to have turned her friend’s mood around.

“That’s honestly so cool though, even if they don’t use me. You’re really making friends in high places!”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, a dry chuckle slipping from her lips. “Actually, there’s a show coming up in a few weeks too, like this private thing at the showroom for the holiday collection. I could try slipping you into the casting pile for that too. Raja is in charge of that and her assistant is super nice.”

“You’re such a fucking goddess, thank you!” Tati said.

“Anytime.”

“So then, are things going better at work? I mean, you’re liking it more?”

“Ummm…” Courtney sighed.

“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

She really tried to be positive about work. She tried to keep a good attitude, tried not to cringe in fear every time her work phone buzzed after hours. But sometimes, like on a Sunday afternoon when she just wanted to enjoy brunch with her friend but couldn’t keep the racing thoughts about everything she’d have to do in the coming week from intruding—sometimes it was hard. She hadn’t confessed this to her friends yet, for fear of it getting back to Adore. She just didn’t want to seem like she was ungrateful for the opportunity. But something told her that she could trust Tati.

“Well...it’s just...it’s really stressful. All the time, and I keep thinking that it’ll get easier, you know? But instead there’s just more and more and the hours are always long and even when I’m supposed to be sleeping, I’m always thinking about work or worried that I forgot something. Plus, I don’t think Miss Fame likes me very much and it’s just…”

“Shitty?”

“Yeah,” Courtney exhaled, surprised at how much of a relief it felt to unburden herself. “Sometimes I feel like...I’m barely holding on. It’s like I can’t...find the solid ground, you know?”

Tati nodded solemnly, stopping mid stride to turn and give Courtney a big, comforting hug. Then, she suddenly grasped her by the shoulders, a sly smile on her face as she said, “I know what you need!”

Courtney laughed, curiosity distracting her from her troubles as Tati dragged her down the block, right into a high-end boutique filled with clothes that they could never afford in a million years. In that moment, Courtney knew exactly what she was up to--a perfectly ridiculous game they started last year when the stress of school was getting overwhelming.

She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing when Tatianna found a sales clerk and “introduced” herself.

“Helloooo!” she crooned in a terrible British accent, sticking out her hand as if the woman should kiss it. “Tatianna Buckingham, Duchess of Hamptonshire, pleasure to meet you. This is my friend, Courtney Vanderbilt-Rockefeller, and we need gowns for a gala next week.”

The sales girl smiled patiently, asking them if they wanted some champagne.

“Sounds lovely, darling. Thanks ever so.”

The moment the clerk walked away, Courtney began laughing, whispering, “She totally knew you were lying.”

“So?” Tati challenged. “Maybe she likes to play, too.”

“Maybe,” Courtney giggled, pawing through a rack of floor-length beaded gowns. “Ooh, Tati dahhhling, this turquoise one would look positively diviiine on you!”

“I don’t know about that one, I was planning to wear the rubies and it might clash.”

“Then wear the diamonds, love!”

“Great idea! Alright, let’s try it on!”

The clerk returned with champagne, and Tati held out her glass for a toast, her arms already full of clothes to try on.

“To solid ground,” she said solemnly, and Courtney toasted her back enthusiastically.

“Cheers!”

They spent nearly an hour in the store, trying on gowns, resort wear and pristinely tailored ensembles, taking turns styling each other and then strutting around the dressing room as if it was a Paris runway. The whole thing was silly and fun and made Courtney feel like she used to: young and happy and free.

When they finally left the store to head to brunch, Courtney couldn’t help pull her friend in for a hug, whispering, “Thank you,” into her hair.

“Anytime, buttercup,” Tati told her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

***

“It’s here!” cried Kandy, and a murmur went through the whole design floor, everyone reaching for their respective tablets.

It had been almost an hour since the department head meeting ended, Trixie informing them all that Miss Fame’s office would be sending the team the final prêt-à-porter sketches that had gone to tailoring for production.

Of course Courtney would be slower than death, but Violet had still spent the whole 30 minutes constantly refreshing her email. She knew it was petty considering the number of people that were trying for it, but she really really wanted that jacket spot and she had a few other looks she thought were promising as well.

One, a breezy dress that could be dressed up or down depending on styling, and a top with beautiful sleeve detailing. But the jacket...if the jacket was chosen, then it boded very well for her chance of getting the opening or closing couture look, since the dress she was currently working on used some of the same techniques.

It was probably a pipe dream to even hope for a spot like that, being the newest designer, but Violet was going to give it her best shot.

Violet clicked on the attachment, lip between her teeth as she carefully looked through, doing her best not to skip anything.

The first sketch of hers that she recognized was a skirt, one of the simpler submissions that she hadn’t even felt 100% about, but it fit in with the casual separates. The dress that she liked was in there too--with a note to lengthen the hemline. She wrinkled her nose, hoping that the extra fabric wouldn’t make the skirt look dowdy.

Then, she found it on page 38 among the other outwear--her jacket.

She grinned happily to herself, beyond pleased and excited to have this major success under her belt and more determined than ever to perfect her couture submission.

***

“Courtney! I need the tailoring budgets now!”

Fame shrugged her coat off as she walked into her office, taking her coat and letting it fall, trusting her assistant to catch it before it touched the ground. Fame had just finished her weekly yoga and therapy, talking with her therapist over the phone while stretching out. She didn’t like the therapy, hated doing it actually, but she couldn’t discredit the fact that it did make her feel slightly less anxious to unload on someone once a week.

“Have you talked to Shangela yet?” Fame looked at Courtney, her assistant holding the budget out for her. “I want-” Fame paused, realizing that this was the first time in weeks that she had actually looked at Courtney, the pastel pink no longer in the blonde hair.

Or rather, in what used to be blonde.

“What’s that?” On top of Courtney’s head, was the most disgusting half inch of severely neglected roots, the hair making Courtney’s entire appearance look cheap and tawdry. “Where do you get your hair done?”

Courtney’s hand flew to her hair, covering up the roots as the color drained for her face.

“I do it myself. I’m sorry, I know I need to touch up-”

“Yourself?” Fame tried to remember if she had ever had to reprimand Violet like this, Courtney looking like an absolute disaster. “And how do you think your current hairstyle reflects on the company? And most importantly me?”

“Um...well, I-” Courtney bit her lip, and Fame sighed internally.

For the most part, Courtney had been doing alright. For one thing, she was no longer skipping around the place like a child, and seemed to be taking her job seriously, at least. But in spite of her meager progress, she still had so much to learn. Drug store dye? Did she think this was a strip club instead of a top tier fashion house?

“Remember. Only perfection is acceptable.” Fame said, her tone clipped and pointed as she strode into her office, then turned around and proclaimed, “That’s all,” finally shutting the door in Courtney’s face.

***

Sutan was sitting at his desk at work, a smile on his face as he was reading the email that had just ticked in from Violet.

Normally, it was nearly impossible to get a hold of the woman during work hours, the task even harder now that she didn’t have a work phone anymore, but judging from the excitement that radiated from her email, Violet had been unable to wait until she was off the clock to tell him that she had gotten not one, not two, but three pieces into the prêt-à-porter collection.

Sutan was just about to email her back with congratulations, his mind already racing with how they should celebrate, when he heard a tap on his door.

He was one of the only agents who had an always open door policy, his models and coworkers always welcome, Sutan more often than not getting visits from models that didn’t even belong to him when there was trouble on the horizon, girls coming by to share their frustrations or worries with someone who listened.

Today, however, it wasn’t a model who had shown up at his door.

“Oh,” Sutan smiled. “Tamisha, hello.”

Tamisha Iman was the current CEO of Elite Model with over 30 years of experience in the business. She looked gorgeous as always, her skin perfection even though she was in her mid 50s. She was wearing a red pant suit, her brown hair perfectly styled.

“What can I help you with?”

“Do you have five?”

“Of course.” Sutan raised an eyebrow as Tamisha stepped inside, closing the door behind her. It was years since Tamisha had last been upset with him, and even though she was a firm but fair boss, you never really knew. “Anything wrong?”

“Can I bum a cigarette? I just had the most terrible meeting with the L.A. office-”

“Ah.” Sutan smiled, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. “And who says I smoke?”

“Oh please,” Tamisha rolled her eyes. “I know you got the goods Amrull.”

“I thought you quit last year?”

“Don’t care.”

“Ouch.” Sutan laughed, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out the packets of cigarettes he always kept there. “I only have Camels.”

“That’s fine.” Tamisha had already walked over to his window, opening it and hiking up her skirt to crawl out onto his fire escape. “Are you coming?”

“Course boss.” Sutan smiled as he grabbed his lighter, listening to one of the few people he considered a friend bitch not the worst way to spend an afternoon.

***

Pearl climbed the stairs from the subway, she and Trixie having a rare weekday dinner without Katya since she was busy with parent-teacher conferences, so they’d opted for their favorite dim sum place downtown. As they began walking up the block, Pearl stopped short, her eyes opening wide.

“Oh my god…”

“What?” Trixie asked.

The whole time Pearl was speaking to Dahlia at Adore’s last gig, she was certain that she’d seen the dark-haired beauty somewhere before. Now, looking at the giant XXX LIVE NUDE GIRLS XXX sign, she finally figured it out. She used to use the seedy strip club as a meeting place, whenever she was trying to get info from a straight guy. Granted, that didn’t happen terribly often in the fashion industry, which was probably why she hadn’t thought of it. But as soon as she saw that sign, she knew. Dahlia worked there. Pearl could picture her clear as day, in nothing but a tiny little thong, chest glistening with glitter.

“That strip club,” Pearl said. “Let’s go in!”

“What?” Trixie sputtered a laugh.

“For a drink! Real quick…”

“No way bro, not on your life.”

“Come on!” Pearl begged, reasoning, “Katya wouldn’t care, she’d probably think it was funny.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not interested,” Trixie told her firmly.

“Please, Trix? There’s a girl there that is just like...so fucking hot. I just want to see if she’s working tonight.”

“I’m not interested in helping you cheat on your girlfriend with a stripper, either.” Trixie looked absolutely disgusted with her. He was really the worst wingman in the world.

“It wouldn’t be cheating! We talked about it and agreed that we should be open.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” Pearl grinned, spreading her arms. “I’m living the dream.”

Trixie snorted and shook his head. “If you say so.”

“So will you come inside?”

“Still no.”

Pearl sighed, continued to follow him up the street to the dim sum place, all the while entertaining herself with images of what Dahlia looked like on stage… Her tall, luscious body wrapped in silky lingerie. The subtle scent of her perfume lingering even as she walked away, swaying her perfect hips.

***

The scent of spices was filling Sutan’s kitchen, music playing while he chopped up the last of the chili, humming to himself as he rocked back and forth to the music, a glass of wine getting picked up once in a while.

“What are we listening to?”

Violet was sitting at the table, filing her nails and drinking her own glass of wine as she watched Sutan, but most importantly his ass in those jeans, cooking dinner.

“What?” Sutan looked over his shoulder. “Are you seriously asking that? It’s the Temptations? They’re the only band from the 60s that matters.”

“Really?” Violet looked at Sutan, actually a little surprised at how passionate he seemed to be about music. If Violet was being totally honest, she always preferred instrumentals, vocals often only distracting.

“Yes, really?” Sutan huffed, “Youth these days.”

“I’m sorry,” Violet laughed, the man sounding genuinely offended.

“You better be.” Sutan smiled, tipping the last of the chili into the pan. “Or I might not give you your present.”

“My present?”

“Yes.” Sutan wiped his hands on the tea towel. “Watch the stove, would you?”

Violet was about to protest, but Sutan had already walked off. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to watch, the pasta dish Sutan was whipping together way above her level of cooking skills.

“Here we go.” Sutan walked back into the kitchen, holding a white box, a white ribbon wrapped around it, the word Dior printed on it in gold.

“Is-” Viole stood up, suddenly feeling boiling hot and overwhelmed. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Well,” Sutan grinned, putting the box down on the table in front of her. “Depends on what you think it is?”

“Sutan, I-” Violet didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think.

“Come on,” Sutan gave her a gentle push with his elbow.

“Are you serious?”

“Open it.”

Violet's hands were shaking as she reached for the ribbon and opened the box. Violet pulled the white paper away, her fingers making contact with the soft purple leather. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as she looked into the box, completely overwhelmed before she snapped to Sutan, a look of surprise and confusion on her face.

“Congrats on your designs being picked, lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled. “After getting a good look at your bag at the park the other day,” He raised an eyebrow, Violet remembering that she had shown it in his arms when she had spotted the pug. “I figured you needed a new one.”

“Oh my God, oh God.” Violet could feel the tears gathering in her eyes; she didn’t want to cry, but she was simply so overwhelmed.

Sutan always paid for their meals and their dates, refusing even the sight of Violet’s credit card, but it had never been anything like this before, never a gift that so obviously said, ‘I’m your boyfriend and I care about you.’

“Don’t cry darling,” Violet felt Sutan’s arms around her, pulling her against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Take a look at it.”

Violet nodded, crying as she pulled the Dior Diorissimo in the most gorgeous pale purple leather out of the box.

“A cool designer bag for my cool designer girlfriend.” Sutan grinned, pressing yet another kiss against Violet’s hair. “Hopefully, it’ll be able to withstand the abuse of all the things you insist on lugging around.”

“This is,” Violet didn’t know what to say. “I-” She turned her head, looking up at Sutan. “Thank you. This is… Thank you. I love it.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

18, 19 & 24 for E?

18. "You're not gonna hurt me."

19. "I hate Halloween."

24. "I’m the tall dark stranger your parents warned you about."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warnings: murder, blood, violence, swearing

The curfew started an hour ago yet the streets were filled with trick or treaters. A part of her wondered if the parents who let their kids out unsupervised were sane, but then again, wasn’t she out as well?

The murders shaking up the little town had yet to stop, the seventh victim had been found.

Seven women, all drowned to death but it wasn’t before the killer had his sick fun with torturing them first.

Shuddering, Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, looking around for the reason why she’s outside. If it were up to her, she’d be holed up inside with a scary movie on and a big bowl of popcorn to satisfy her anxiety. His arm would be around her, easing the fear, and they’d steal glances at each other every so often until one of them would give up and steal a kiss.

Y/n’s ideal Halloween would have been just like that. Unfortunately, she agreed to go out for a movie date with her boyfriend and his twin who was in town for a night.

“AH!” She screamed as someone jerked her from behind, laughing and wheezing at the same time.

“You should ‘ave seen your face!!” Grayson cackled, falling on his ass from laughter and she frowned before looking to her boyfriend.

“I hate Halloween.” She rolls her eyes, standing by her statement as Grayson wheezes and Ethan chuckles.

“C’mon! It was funny!” Ethan opens his arms and while reluctant, Y/N embraces the opportunity to hold him close. He was her flame and she a moth who willingly played with fire.

“You scared me half to death.” Complaining, her words are muffled by his chest where she buried her face, all too embarrassed about the way she screamed and angry she’s so easily scared.

“As if anyone could hurt you when I’m around.” Ethan presses a sweet kiss atop her head, swaying her left to right. Gazing up at his face, she notices a beautiful smile adorning his plush lips and there’s a sense of pure awe washing over her.

Ethan is a man many would fall for. Many did. 

Charming, incredibly witty and intelligent, he owned every room her entered. He didn’t even ask for the attention, it was given freely and in abundance. His good looks attracted girls, his sporty hobbies attracted the men and no matter how many times she asked herself how he could have fallen for her - a social misfit, her brain never could form a believable answer.

“We’ll be late, love birds! Save the smooching for the bedroom.” Grayson teased, going ahead of the two. It was known he was definitely a Halloween fan and while horror movies scared him, Grayson insisted on watching one every year.

Walking hand in hand, Y/N and Ethan reminisced. It was easy to get lost in the autumn magic, the colorful trees around them and the dim light of streetlights making them wish they were alone to kiss without anyone giving them dirty looks. 

“I’m really glad you came with us tonight.” Ethan whispers, making Grayson shush him as result. The movie had started a while ago, nothing too interesting to keep Y/N’s attention. She had watched The Hills Have Eyes so many times before it just lost its appeal.

Moving her legs aside, Y/N had let a girl pass by, only to turn her attention back to Ethan.

“I’m glad you wanted me to.” Smiling sheepishly, she let him take her hand, watching him pull it up to his lips and press a tender kiss.

“Do you want anything? I’ll go to the bathroom quick.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting her to ask for a popcorn refill but she shakes her head.

“Just you to come back.” Her smile wide, Y/N pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, even if he did shake his head and smirk at her instead of giving her a kiss she craved.

It was an unstoppable craving for Ethan ever since he first kissed her after Sociology. She was smitten, hopelessly infatuated by him.

“Count on it.” Pecking the tip of her nose, Ethan was quick to disappear, leaving Y/N with a growing unsteadiness within.

Minutes passed and she began to grow anxious. Nervously bouncing her leg, Y/N sighed, checking her phone a few times before texting Ethan who had not sent a reply.

Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, she couldn’t even follow what’s happening on the screen, lost in her own thoughts and the possible reasons why he has yet to return.

Perhaps there was a line for the bathroom? Perhaps he just needed to take a dump? Maybe he decided to get her the popcorn anyway?

Whatever the reason may be, she was done waiting.

“Gray”, she whispered, getting his attention. “I’ll go check on E.” She stood up, catching a nod in acknowledgement before leaving.

She didn’t bother checking the entrance, heading for the bathroom straight away. She knocked on the men’s room, calling his name but there was no answer and her raging heart told her something’s wrong.

Instead of panicking, she figured she should call him again in case he didn’t hear the texts. Walking into the women’s room for privacy, Y/N had expected anything but what she found.

Her eyes noticed the blood on white tiles, contrasting like rubies in the winter snow. Her black boots were already in the puddle of the pungent smell of iron - the kind that one smells after rain had corroded the pipes. 

Shaky hands, tense body, Y/N dared to look ahead and toward the body of the lifeless woman who was very much alive when she moved out of her way earlier. She had her eyes open just as she did in the theatre, but there was nothing behind them - no happiness nor pair, no hope for the future.

And that’s when she found the culprit walking out of a stall.

There’s no remorse on his angelic, blood splattered, face nor guilt in his hazel eyes. The lips who showed her nothing but tenderness now formed a scowl she could never erase from memory.

“E-Ethan?” She stuttered in disbelief, looking to the knife he clutched possessively with his left hand.

“You really should have stayed and watched the movie.” Ethan sighs, too dramatically for it to be real. He step over the body as if it’s trash, nearing Y/N who stumbled back only to crash into a wall.

Breathing shallow and fast, she no longer felt tense but broken and shaken beyond what she believed to be possible. Her mind spins with every step he gets closer and there’s no strength inside her to run.

She always thought in a situation where it’s “fight or flight” she’d be able to run, but her body froze, remaining at the mercy of the one she thought loved her.

“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Her tone lacked conviction, but her eyes remained on him. 

Ethan could smell the fear on her. Even if she spoke valiantly, he’d see through her. Widen eyes, nostrils flared, breathing as if she had run a marathon? She feared him. And he liked it.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, love.” He drawled it out, lifting his arm until the tip of his knife pressed against her throat. “You see, she thought so too.” Ethan cranes his neck so Y/N could see the victim behind him only to snap his head back into position, making her gasp.

“Why? At least tell me if it was all a lie?” Her shaky voice entertains him and the way her carotid pulses only excites him. She’s a pretty girl, but she’s gorgeous when she’s scared of him. 

“What do you think?” He raises an eyebrow, a cunning smile spreading across his lips as her chin quivers. “I’m the tall dark stranger your parents warned you about.”

But before he makes the fatal cut, Ethan hears the sirens. It’s unlikely they’re for him, but he can never be too careful.

“I guess it’s your lucky night, love. Do clean up and head back. I’ll join shortly.” Nodding his head toward the door, Ethan steps back, bringing the tip of the blade to his lips. “And be quiet if you know what’s good for you.”

Pushing the heavy door, Y/N ran out, her legs finally serving her right. She ran past the theatre, straight to the register.

“Call 911!”

Her instincts told her not to. Her treacherous heart screamed at her to pretend she didn’t see anything. She wanted to. She really wanted to pretend, but as the guy asked questions why, she covered her mouth and held back a sob.

Shaking her head, she turned away and ran outside as the guy called the police regardless of her lacking response, aware she could be the reason why Ethan is apprehended.

And that should make her feel good, right? She should be happy? It certainly looked like he was the killer everyone’s been talking about, so why didn’t she feel good about it? Why did she feel sick to her stomach with the thought of never having his arms around her?

Perhaps she was just as mad as he is.

As the night went on, Y/N remained in her bed, terrified to turn on the news. But she had to. Something told her she had to.

‘The Beast has struck again, leaving the county police with yet another horrendous death on their hands. The cashier at the movies told us there was a girl running out of the bathroom, instructing him to call the police. It is unclear if the girl had witnessed the murder or just found the body, but as of now, no arrests have been made. The cameras were disconnected at the time of the murder and an hour after. According to the police, the footage of the witness and possible murderer is unrestrainable.’

“Fuck.” Y/N mutters under her breath. Not only did the news just tell Ethan she had called the cops, but they also confirmed he wasn’t even a suspect. That means...

“Knock, knock!” She heard the pounding on her front door, breaking her out of her thoughts. The voice is familiar, the one she once adored now making her question everything. 

“Open up and let’s have a nice chat!”