#and little Grim under the table!!!
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thetwstwildcard · 1 year ago
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I think I can say my boy knows me well when he buys me this as an early birthday present
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Like, look how cute they are!!!! ♠♥♦♣
The seller' tumblr is also @/shimmeryspark 🧡
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tonycries · 3 months ago
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Haunting You - G.S.
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Synopsis. A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, king! Gojo, vampire AU, he’s actually ÍNSANE, royalty AU, arranged marriages, creampíes, breéding, fated mátes, FÉRAL down bad Gojo, mentions of bIood and kílling, bíting, óral (fem receiving), spítting, marks (a LOT), fíngering, pórn with plot tbh, overstím, ínnapropriate use of powers, jealous! Gojo, slight inspiration from Persephone and Hades, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 15.8k (HUH???)
A/N. Was listening to Haunted by Beyoncé, and my mind went “ooo vampires.” Hope y’all have a lovely week <3
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In all your years being carefully primed to take over the throne, there have only been two rules you were raised under:
You live by the crown, and you will die by the crown. No matter what. 
To stop the vampires - if your father, the king, fails to contain the bloody trail of killings before his own inevitable death, you have to. Or, more according to those tedious meetings with the table of elders, your husband will have to.
And it seems as if they were well and fully intent on enforcing that last rule as of late - with sharply increasing numbers of attacks on your local towns, the public was growing restless - and so was the royal court. 
You weren’t doing any better either - but for a wholly different reason.  
Maybe it was paranoia, but these days, you found yourself constantly catching a flash of crystal blue in the corner of your eye. Or hearing a sweet, sweet whisper in your ear deep at night. Maybe even a soft run of fingers down your spine as you were readied for yet another ball - hands much too large to be any of your ladies-in-waiting.
Like something was watching. 
Waiting. 
“And then I- your highness, are you listening?”
That familiar, grating voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you’re gasping in embarrassment as you turn back to the prattling man in front of you. 
“My apologies, Lord Naoya.” you smile tightly, desperate to finish up yet another conversation about his latest cavalry expeditions. Nodding dismissively, “Just tired, please continue with your ah- wonderful tales.”
But of course, when he starts right back from the very beginning to “cover the key points you missed”, your stomach turns when you realize that you won’t be escaping any time soon. Great. Wonderful. Perfect.
God, future suitors your ass. You’d been taught that there’s no such company as “bad company” when you’re an heir to a kingdom, but this has been the fourth royal ball this month - and the biggest one yet. The fourth night you had to listen to another uptight lord show off his sparse battle medals, or another elder snide about how you’d be useless against the dangers of vampires.
You knew it was likely some coping mechanism with the grim deaths this week, but surely the nobles were tired of all this silly dancing? You sure were. 
Gauzy dress just a bit too tight, sighs just a bit too loud than was permitted for the princess, you let your gaze wander across the brilliant ballroom. Those intricate gowns, the huge reflective wall, those little pastries you really wish you could walk away from this conversation and-
Blue. 
Crystal blue.
“Wait! Did you see-” you startle, and it disappears as fast as it appeared. Your heavy skirts sway as you whirl around to uselessly track that odd burst of color, “Did you see that?”
“I know!” Naoya gasps, making you turn your head in excitement. “The light reflects off my medal so gorgeously! Oh, and this one-”
Dammit. 
All through your life, it was this same color that’d been flitting occasionally through your vision, now haunting you almost every day.
You didn’t know where to look to find that familiar blue again - and you didn’t want to stand here waiting to find out. At the very least, your ears have definitely been assaulted with enough talk about horses and how “absolutely enormous” Lord Naoya’s weaponry at the Zenin Estate was.
Compensating, you muse.
The thought helps you plaster on a grin to your face, humming in a saccharine-sweet tone, “It pains me to cut through, my lord.” It really didn’t. “And I’d love to chat more later, but I think I hear my lady-in-waiting calling for me.”
He sputters, breathing out a few profanities under his breath that you catch. An arm raising as if to keep you in place, “Now, wait a minute-”
You’re angling your body expertly to make your dash. Batting your lashes deceivingly innocently, “Oh? What was that?” you cup your ear. “I hear her again- I really do apologize, but feel free to recount your valiant um- fairy tales in a letter.”
“But your father-”
Not waiting to hear the rest of his response, you barely even bother with a polite curtsy before determinedly weaving your way through the stuffy ballroom. Nodding by the nobles greeting you, waving past the throng of young lords that wanted to reel you into more conversation. Your satiny feet taking you anywhere but here - anywhere but where you could feel the still, heavy gaze of something burning into your back as you escaped. 
You just prayed that it was only a miffed Naoya and nothing else.
It was around this time that the orchestra struck up another upbeat waltz, and with most people pairing off on the dance floor, barely anyone noticed you tip-toeing out of the ballroom. 
“God-” you’re letting out a sigh of relief when you reach the long hallway, rubbing at your throbbing temples. “The next ball they host, m’gonna conveniently disappear, I swear.”
You didn’t care enough for what matchmaking would happen in the future anyway, no matter what the elders may tell you. 
Your ballgown swishes with every urgent step through the quiet, dimly-lit corridors. Maybe a bit too quiet. 
Strange. You knew that not many nobles would be wandering around the palace during a ball but, surely you can’t be the only one here? Where were the guards?
Just then, a soft winter breeze puffs against your left ear - and you inhale sharply. “Wha- hello?” you shudder, gaze darting around. “Anyone there?” But when only silence greets you, you’re struck with the sudden thought that the windows along the hallway were closed. 
Where did the wind come from?
The realization has you taut with goosebumps pricking at your skin, your pace increasing ever-so-slightly. Gulping, you round the corner quickly, making a beeline for the closest haven you could find - the library.
Ducking past the towering stone archway, you hastily slam the door closed. It takes you a few seconds to get used to the darkness inside. With silvery moonlight ribbons filtering in through the curtained windows, you could just barely make out the rows upon rows of books you’d pestered your father into lining. Surrounded by heavyset tables, and your favorite, cushioned armchair. Luxurious, yet completely dwarfed when seating the lone silhouette-
“If this is an attack, then I surely don’t mind.”
“Fuck-” you scream, reflexively grabbing the nearest book spine you could reach to throw in the direction of the shadow. “Show yourself.”
Somehow, it’s as if the book bounces off an invisible forcefield, plopping down unceremoniously onto the velvety carpet right in front of the tall figure. 
“And here I thought princesses usually curtseyed.” that deep, honeyed voice cuts right through your heavy breathing. He makes a move to get up - languid, and torturous, as if he enjoyed your agonizing suspense. “Well, maybe I do prefer being pelted by a- hey, that doesn’t mean pick up another book!”
In a split-second, you were brandishing a weighty encyclopedia this time - holding it firmly behind your head in a ready stance to throw once again. 
“Show yourself.”
The man sighs, stepping into a channel of low light. It illuminated his stature - taller than you’d thought, towering well above most of the generals in the royal court. Muscled, yet lean - powerful, the thought strikes you. Magnetizing. 
Someone from outside the kingdom, you observe, otherwise you’d have remembered that cloudy white hair, strands falling over a strange, black blindfold stretched across the upper half of his face. Leaving you only a set of high cheekbones, and a pert, pretty mouth to admire.
One that curls into such a mischievous smirk of neat pearly whites, and a tiny dimple digging into his cheek. “Now, I’ve never had anyone this eager to see me.” He drops into a courteous bow at the waist, expensive blue fabrics rippling. “From the North kingdom, Satoru, at your service, princess.”
Your hand falters - partially because of the heavy weight, partially because you recognised that gold “G” insignia in the middle of this stranger- Satoru’s uniform. The Gojo family. 
That mysterious, estranged kingdom from the Northern part of the country that hadn’t been seen since you were young. You’d heard stories of them - everyone in this vast country had, it was impossible not to. Of their cruel winters and even crueler king, how blood stained every room in his palace. It was rumored he was a monster, and yet, no one ever saw his face - if they did, they never lived to tell the tale. 
You knew your father had invited the king to every single ball out of diplomatic obligation, but he’d never attended. Never even bothered to respond. 
So who was this?
“No one. Just a lowly attendant accompanying my king, your highness.” you’re jolting when he purrs, a brow quirking at just how he knew what you were thinking. “The question ah- showed on your face, my apologies.”
Finding your voice, “Um, I apologize, too, Satoru-” You note the lack of a last name, “-for the book. I can’t imagine being hit with Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet was a very warm welcome.” And like a little truce, you’re placing down the encyclopedia in your hand. Flashing him your most practiced smile, ��I bet you’re hiding out here for the same reasons as me, then.”
That draws out a pretty laugh from him, bubbly and boyish. “Mhm, the ladies just refuse to leave you alone, too?”
“Well, more like the lords there.”
He hums, something that sends a chill down your spine. Words just a little strained, “Not much for bragging about horses?” 
And suddenly, you get the urge to snark back, huffing in a way you know your preparational teacher would faint at. “Absolutely not. I’d rather face a vampire than listen to Naoya and the “absolutely enormous” weaponry he uses to-”
“-compensate!”
“-compensate.” the two of you finish at the same time. “I like this place a lot better, it’s quiet- though…” your voice trails off in wonder. “It’s strange, guests aren’t supposed to be allowed in the library unsupervised.” His jaw clenches when your eyes sweep him, “We are supposed to have a few guards here but I don’t know where-”
All of a sudden, it’s like you’re being splashed with cold water. And your words are dying on your tongue when the room drops a few degrees in temperature. 
Satoru is unnervingly still, yet he catches onto your slight shiver. “This damned wind, am I right?” And he’s gesturing at the windows with his head. The closed windows. Words tumbling quickly from those pink lips now, “Anyways- why don’t you sit down-” He prowls towards you, slow, confident. Large hands rest at your arms, they’re pale, surprisingly cold - guiding you easily to sit on the unoccupied armchair. “-since m’being nice enough to let you hide out here.”
His words drip with tease, and you still couldn’t see his eyes, but you imagined they’d be twinkling. No one ever dared to speak to you this way - it was always either thinly-veiled condescension or fear towards royalty. 
Surprisingly, you didn’t mind. 
You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “Yeah? Well what do I owe you in return for that, Satoru?”
His lips part, as if not expecting this response. Before letting out another sharp cackle at your expense, “Well, why don’t you-” You can’t tear your eyes away from his magnetic figure when Satoru begins unbuttoning his flowing coat to reveal a snow-white shirt underneath. Wrapping it snug around your shoulders in one, fluid motion, a hand of his tilts your head towards him. “-give me your soul?”
The Gojo emblem burns into your back, and Satoru’s deep, almost raspy tone rings in your ears. It sounded like a joke - but looking into his ethereal features, there was no trace of a grin on what you could see of it. And once again, you’re struck by the pure power radiating off of him. 
You hoped it was a joke.
“S-soul’s not for sale.” you manage to choke out, trying to make it look like you weren’t breathing in his metallic, peppermint scent. Heady. Pulling the soft fabric tighter around your cold body, “Steep price for a hideout, don’t you think?”
“S’a discount for you, flower.” his chilling breath fans your face. Letting out hushed, “Heh, you should see the prices I charge others.”
You’re reeling, face burning, “Flower?”
“Because you’re shaking like one, see?” The pads of his fingers move from under your chin to trace up, up, up the goosebumps on your exposed arms. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to pull away.
Hypnotic. 
And his steps are soundless as he walks over behind you, the moonlight giving him an angelic halo. Haunting, almost. “And you’re just as gorgeous, like a wild rose. Way too gorgeous for the fuckin’ bastards out there, might I add, princess.”
The nerve!
Heart pounding, you turn around to- call him out for his disrespect? Snap back? Accept the compliment?
You don’t know - and you don’t get to find out, either. Because before your eyes can search for Satoru’s mysterious figure, the door to the library is slamming open with a deafening bang!
“Ah! There you are!” your lady-in-waiting’s relieved voice floods your ears. And she’s barging in with no comment about your sudden stiffness, or that foreign coat around your shoulders. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, your highness. His majesty is just about to make his speech of the night and needs you there.”
Shit, out of all the scandals. 
“I- I can explain.” You’re desperately trying to catch Satoru’s eye to make up an excuse for why you’re alone with a strange man away from the ball, shooting from your seat to look around the library. “We’re just-”
The suddenly empty library. 
“Yes yes, I understand that the balls aren’t exactly your favorite pastime.” The oblivious girl is pushing you towards the door, brown eyes narrowed. “But we’ve got to get going now.”
Despite her wrangling you outside, you manage to sneak a few glances backwards, straining to see if he was hiding in the shadows. Only to be met with a now-rumpled armchair and the still, dark bookshelves. As bare as if Satoru never existed - the only proof of his existence being a sad copy of Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet lying on the ground. 
And yet, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you. 
You feel it all through the short walk back to the ballroom, Nobara’s excited chatter about how finely your all-new coat was made filtering through one ear and out the next. Even when you reach the edge of the dance floor, even when you feel every single other eye in the room on you - you feel it. 
“Um, Nobara.” you whisper, discreetly shuffling the coat off your shoulders. “Please take this to my chambers for me.”
The younger girl is positively bursting at the seams, murmuring conspiratorially to you, “So is this where you were? With who- The “G” what does that-”
“Ah! My daughter!” Saved by your father’s booming voice - though, you wouldn’t consider it too much of a salvation when you’re immediately being whisked away to the high platform your father’s throne was seated on. His arms spread wide to greet you in a hug despite stiff etiquette. 
“You’re late.” he whispers in your ear.
It’s all you can do to manage out a quiet, “S-Sorry.”
Without another word, he’s addressing the congregation in the middle of the dance ballroom again. More ruler than father at this very moment. “My people, we are gathered here today to dance, to sing, to forget about the horrors happening in our beloved nation.” To large murmurs of agreement he continues, “And despite it all, it’s a reality we must all live with. Me, especially, as your king, have a duty to fulfill.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you wonder where this is all going - your father never brought up vampires during a time like this. Never. 
Clearing his throat, “And as we all know, I’m not getting any younger here, unfortunately. Which is why-” He claps his hands once, and three figures - one of which being Naoya, amongst two other nobles you briefly recognized - step forward from the crowd. “Ah- there should be one more- Anyway, after thorough consideration with the table of elders, we have decided to go forward with the betrothal process for my dear daughter here. With the joining of hands will not only be the joining of kingdoms - but the joining of arms, and our people shall prevail as one over the vampires.”
You think you might stop breathing, eyes burning and trained firmly on the ground. This had been a topic of conversation - well, more the elders conversing while you skipped out on every meeting once this discussion was brought up. 
You knew this would happen. You knew. But now? At this very moment? All you can do is stand there and listen while he rattles off. 
“I know four of the- erm, three of the most eligible young suitors of the land will do their utmost to vie for her heart - and her hand. No easy task I tell you.” Your fists clench, head swimming. “And in a week’s time, we will hold the grand ball to announce my successor.”
Shit - a week. A week.
Somewhere in your line of vision you see - you feel that spark of blue. And you’re raising your head to cheers echoing from all around the room, and still no sign of where those eyes are. 
“The next time we meet, will be with the future king and queen!”
Fuck. 
---
That night was spent with a few too many tears, and a consoling Nobara at your side all until daybreak. And if you held onto that comforting, peppermint-scented coat through it all, well, you were only glad that you seemed too pitiful for her to question it. 
Feeling much more composed and only slightly less bitter about the prospect of being married off to a stuck-up noble you didn’t know, you made your way to breakfast the next morning. An affair usually spent with your father, or in the palace gardens - but this time, surrounded by four suitors under the guise of getting to know you. Sizing each other up, maybe. 
“Ah, your highness, good morning!” you sweetly reciprocate the greetings once you’re escorted into the dining room, taking your seat at the very end of the long, mahogany table. 
Sighing you take in the scene - on your left was Lord Naoya from last night, the same sharp grins and shifty eyes as you remembered. Seated beside him was the young duke of the Kashimo clan - hair striking, his battle staff laid out next to him on the table. Intimidating. 
But nothing in comparison to the hulking man on your right, it seemed as if his uniform was on the verge of bursting. Face sullen, letting his pink locks fall into place - Sukuna, you think you remember. 
“Your highness.” Ichiji bows, taking his place supervising the breakfast. “I am afraid our guests from the Northern kingdom will not be able to attend this breakfast today. He sends his deepest apologies. B-but-” His face-paled, looking scarred for life. “-he did have his um- attendant send this note-”
You’re gratefully taking the creamy scrap of paper before the words have even left Ichiji’s mouth, flipping it over to reveal slanted, beautiful calligraphy - Apologies for the sudden departure last night, flower. And I hope you forgive my king for not being here to deter the talk of horses - duty holds both man and beast from freedom. Worry not, we will be seeing your sweet smile again soon. But, for now, give those three bastards a rude gesture from me.
You giggle, tucking away the note. A tiny pang of disappointment hitting you out of nowhere at the lack of that gold “G” emblem anywhere along the table - and more importantly, the white-haired enigma that would follow.
All three men were glowering, yet begrudgingly plowing on with their conversation from before as you settled. Not having the energy to contribute, you listened in. 
“-this would never have happened in my estate.”
“Oh buzz off-” Kashimo interrupts Naoya, before throwing a guilty look your way at his crass words. As if you didn’t say worse. “Apologies, your highness. As I was saying-” he turns back to the man. “Don’t think we haven’t heard of those vampire killings in your court that you tried to cover up, your defense isn’t as impenetrable as you want it to seem, Naoya.”
That causes you to raise your brow - and evidently, Sukuna’s as well. “That so? Little fraud, aren’t ya, Zenin?”
The shorter man sputters indignantly, “You- you little- you call me a fraud and yet you’re the only one who didn’t bother to help investigate last night? Got something to hide, oh king-of-curses?”
“Tch, shut up.” That little nickname ticked something off in Sukuna, and his grip on his delicate fork tightens. Smirk intentionally bared to piss off, “It’s just because when the princess marries me, she won’t have to worry about vampires attacking guards in the middle of a ball.”
Wait, what?
“Yeah right, you and what army because I have an absolutely enormous-”
“What do you mean?” Your smooth voice cuts through their bickering, and all three men freeze, gazes snapping to you as if they’d already forgotten you were there. “I didn’t hear about any killings last night.”
If you thought they were tense before then you weren’t prepared for right now - shoulders raising in surrender, for all their blabbering, not a word was uttered after your accusatory question. After a few beats of silence, you scoff in frustration, turning towards your escort, squirming and avoiding your pointed stare at the very corner of the room. 
“Ichiji.” The man looked like he could positively give anything to blend into the meticulously hand-painted flowers on the wall. “Ichiji, tell me what happened.” 
“P-princess!” he yelps, adjusting his glasses. “I- I’m afraid the king said- please I can’t-”
“Ichiji…”
“P-please don’t banish me-”
You’re on your feet now, cornering the poor man. Mentally, you make a note to give him a raise. Eyes narrowing, “I won’t banish you, but as the future queen I have a right to know, don’t I?”
“...”
“...please?”
And the remaining men had been watching with morbid fascination as you worked your magic. They were already aware that the frail attendant was the weakest link out of them all, but what they certainly did not expect was exactly how weak. 
It only took a single bat of your lashes before his pale cheeks colored an almost-concerning pink. Eyes scrunching shut in embarrassment, as the words spilled from his lips. Neverending and slurring with haste as he speaks in one breath, “Th-three of the guards stationed near the outer corridor and library wing were found killed by a vampire last night before you retired for the night, your highness. Their b-bodies were disposed of, and this in combination with all the recent killings was why the king hurried the announcement for your engagement. B-but, his majesty decreed that this never be relayed to you in order to keep you in high spirits after the betrothal eep-!”
“Is- is that so?” you breathe, eyes wide. Taking one last look at the four speechless men, before walking out of the tall doorway. “I seem to have lost my appetite, I will be heading for my chambers now. I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, my lords.”
Shit shit shit - how did you not notice? 
Maybe you walked right past the killer last night and didn’t even realize - who knows what could’ve been hiding in the shadows. How did you not realize? How did you not see?
Just then, a thought strikes you - did Satoru see?
---
It’s one of the whirlwind of questions ringing around in your mind even by the time you hear a steady knock on your door. Jolting you upright from where you splayed out on your plush, silken bed, rows upon rows of books on vampires haphazardly surrounding you.
Peering out of your large window, you notice the hues of pink and red painting the sky, a big red sun just dipping below the horizon - shit, when did you even fall asleep? 
“Come in.” you answer, voice scratchy. Rubbing away the sleep in your eyes, you could barely make out the hazy outline of Ichiji standing in your doorway. 
“Ah- your highness, I apologize for waking you up.” he bows. “But master Kashimo will be headed out for a late-night hunt at this very moment, and requested your presence shall you wish it. He noticed that you seemed upset at breakfast, and wanted to make it up to you.”
You take a moment to mull over the question - it certainly was rude for you to just ignore your guests all day. And considering you might just be marrying one of them, it wouldn’t kill anyone to actually get to know them.
“Alright.” you reply, voice even. And your answer seems to surprise the other man, “Tell Tsukumo to get my gear ready, I will be down as soon as I change.”
“Y-yes, princess! I will call for Nobara to help you get dressed.”
As the door shut once more behind him, you threw off your heavy blanket- and your coat? Satoru’s coat, which had evidently been draped around your upper half. Heart stuttering, you didn’t remember putting that on before…
Hm, you had to thank Nobara for that later.
---
Hunting with Kashimo was, unexpectedly, dull. 
“So…” you drag your words, trying to fill the tense silence. “What is it that we’re actually hunting for-”
“Shhh-” you hear for about the third time this past hour. A brow of yours quirking at the way it seemed like the two of you had been wandering the woods belonging to your kingdom’s estate for hours, and you still didn’t know what it was you were supposed to be looking for. 
Alright, perhaps hunting wasn’t the best opportunity to get to know your potential future husband. 
“My lord…” you call out warily, already aware of the duke’s affinity for hunting. “Maybe we should rest for a bit, after all, the stars are out already and the moon is so bright.”
He barely even turns to look back at you, “No time. The woods belonging to your kingdom have some of the rarest species of cursed animals in this country. I must make the most of this week in that case, your highness.”
You brighten at the closest shred of conversation in so long. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard! I also hear they-”
“Shh!”
So close. 
Letting out a resigned sigh, your eyes glaze over as you watch Kashimo trace his thick fingers over animal tracks on the dirt. Suddenly, gesturing for you to follow him as he sped off in another direction. 
It doesn’t take too long for him to stray out of sight. Meanwhile, your legs lag behind in protest - and pettiness, you realize. Grumbling to yourself about how you’d rather have watched paint dry as you’re sure the elders often did. Well, you look at the now-barren pathway, at least now you didn’t have to worry about someone shushing you all the ti-
“AHH!”
And then, all of a sudden - it felt like you were the hunted. 
It’s like every bit of blood drains from your body at the blood-curdling scream. Grip tightening on your bow, you’re jolting at the direction it came from - where did Kashimo disappear off to again? 
Yet, for how much you knew your kingdom like the back of your hand, it’s so dark. The moon barely peeking through gloomy gray wisps of clouds that you don’t know where exactly you’re running to - just that something was tugging. Reeling you in. No destination in sight until you’re crashing face-first into- a wall?
“Hey, flower, where are ya running off to this late?”
Your hairs raise, something visceral in your body jolting. 
Satoru - blindfold and all.  
“Wh- Satoru thank God you’re here.” you gasp, looking nervously over his broad shoulders. “I heard a scream, and I’m worried about Kashimo because he went somewhere over there and-” You’re pointing aimlessly in his direction, before clasping a hand around Satoru’s defined bicep. Tugging, “You have to help me, that idiot even insisted on no guards because of disturbing the wildlife and I’m so worried and-”
Before you can react, big strong arms are enveloping you. And you’re suddenly hit with the smell of peppermint and Satoru - something so sickly sweet tinging the air, it makes you droop limply into his firm hold. Your skin burns when he breathes in, deep. 
“Shhh shhh, I know I know, princess.” he hums, pulling you deeper against his chest. Until you could feel every dip and curve of his pectorals. “You must’ve been scared, right?” At your hesitant nod, “You did good. You did perfect- in fact. Especially putting up with that pretentious bastard.”
The shocked laugh that drags from your throat has Satoru sighing contentedly, an almost-pained grunt leaving him as he pulls away ever-so-slightly. You felt much the same. 
“S’alright, I’m pretty sure it was some animal.” he soothes. He clasps your hands with his, running a damp thumb over your knuckles. “I saw him trudging about disturbing more wildlife over there.”
You breath catches in your chest at just how close Satoru was now, his breath mingling with yours. Pretty plump lips so close - too close. Yet you’re leaning in closer, like you’re drawn by a thread. “Are you sure? Maybe we should-” You gasp, eyes widening when you look down at where your hands were intertwined - red. Or, what you assumed to be red, a saturated, patchy stain on your hands where Satoru’s met yours. He stiffens when he follows your gaze, trying to pull away, but you only hold your grip harder. “Satoru, are you bleeding? Or is this-”
“Not mine.” his voice is hard - and for a second you have to wonder whether this is really the same Satoru. And you swear there’s a little tremor in his words as he explains, “You see, I went out on a little hunt myself, flower.”
Even if Satoru didn’t have his blindfold on, you’re sure his face would’ve been unreadable. That almost-familiar grin of his is strained. Too strained. Yet, his movements are unwavering as he tries to wipe away the blood. “Must’ve forgotten to wipe down, I apologize for sullying your hands, princess.”
“Let me-” you mutter, taking a hold of the coat around your shoulders to wipe away the blood. Uncaring for what you were dirtying at the moment. “I swear you need to take better care of yourself, Satoru. Seriously.” 
And you didn’t see them - but somehow you could just feel the amusement dancing in Satoru’s eyes. Raising your confused gaze up to meet his, “What?”
He only flashes you a knowing grin, “S’jus’, you’re wearing my coat, your highness.”
Your movements pause, mouth gaping open while you try to pathetically spout out an excuse. “I- I didn’t mean to get this coat dirty, oh my god. I didn’t think-”
“S’alright.” he inches in even closer. A smirk grazing those sinful lips of his, “I actually prefer it like that, you look like mine.” Taking a deep breath, “You smell like mine.” 
And before you can ask about his cryptic message, he’s placing a hand at the back of your waist. A very improper hand that would definitely make the elders gasp in scandal. “We should head back to the palace, it’s getting late. I will escort you, m’sure that born hunter of yours is already halfway back too.”
“Carry me.” you blurt out, your body aching to feel more of him. And before you can retract your words - probably sputter a few apologies, you’re being cradled by a smug Satoru. One hand under your knees, the other supporting you like you’re weightless. 
“Heh, a princess carry for a princess.”
“Oh, shut up.” you grumble with embarrassment when he walks forward slowly, your legs swaying in midair. “Want my soul for this as well?”
And you can feel Satoru’s muscles ripple, you can feel the way his breath hitches in his chest ever-so-slightly. Rumbling as he drawls, “More than you’d know.”
“S’that a discount, too? You still didn’t tell me what you charge others.” you quip, remembering the conversation from the night before. 
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, your highness.”
You’re quirking a brow, something hot churning at the pit of your stomach at that ragged tone to his words. “I’m onto you, y’know.” You stare up at his clenched jaw, highlighted in the dim moonlight. His long, pale neck, the crevices of his blindfold. For a moment, you wonder what it would be like if you could peek under. “Onto you and your absurdly high prices, Satoru.”
He breathes out a shuddering, overly-dramatic shudder. “Mhm, flower, I should be worried.” Before looking up at the sky - and you wondered just how well he could see through his blindfold. “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
That night, you dreamt of long-winded star-gazing and blue, blue eyes. 
---
“What do you mean Lord Kashimo has left for his kingdom?” you hiss, feeling a faint stab of offense. Seriously, were you that awful at hunting? “He didn’t make any indication of it last night.”
And if your careless words made Nobara beam with slight embarrassment, you didn’t take note of it - too caught up in what you’d just heard. Enough so that it takes her next words to bring you out of your stupor, “Exactly what I said, your highness. The lordship and his court have all vacated their wing, leaving behind only a letter of forgiveness for ending the festivities early.”
“Still.” you murmur petulantly. Setting aside another one of your books on Vampire: Mates, Murder, and More. “It’s strange, I thought he was here for the hunting sprees, if not for me.” Your tiara weighs heavy on your head as you turn to your young lady-in-waiting. “I would like for Ichiji to catch up to Kashimo’s traveling party, make sure they’re safe, and send them my well wishes.”
Ha! Take that elders - you’d show them you’re fully capable of holding diplomatic relations as a ruler. 
“As you wish, princess. Additionally, this-” She’s holding out a small pouch of blue fabric that you’d never seen before. “-was found by your bedside when cleaning and I wished to give it back safely.” Before her polite smile drops into a much more devious smirk, “A gift from one of the suitors, perhaps~?”
You gesture for her to hand it over, the silk casing soft under your touch. Detailed. One-of-a-kind, from what your tedious lessons in the history of fabrics had taught you. You didn’t recognize the patterns sewn onto it as something typical for your kingdom - or any other you’d learned about, really.
“M’not sure.” you whisper. Opening the little purse to reveal a flash of gold - a necklace. Thin and intricate, holding a sapphire pendant in the shape of an eye. 
Blue.
A blue you knew too well - the same one that peeked out from every dark corner, that you saw before you slept at night. The one that’s been by your side for years.
Constant. Now coming to haunt you. 
Chills run down your spine, and your fingers tremble at how life-like it looked. Burning into your very soul. 
“Would you like for me to help you put it on?” Nobara asks, mistaking your shock for difficulty. And yet, you don’t correct her - body moving before your mind to simply nod. 
There was only one clasp on the chain - leaving you to worry about the fit. But when it was hooked around your neck, you found that it fit you so perfectly. Like it was tailored to you - and only you. Why was it so perfect?
Why did it capture the exact color you’d been chasing after your whole life - since before you’d even formed memories? Since you were nothing but a surly, teary-eyed little girl that was crying about the dark, babbling about that “blue flash” that no one else ever seemed to see.
“If that will be all, your highness. I will take my leave.” With a nod and a low bow, you’re left all by yourself in your sprawling chambers. Wondering, somewhat in amusement, whether you’d be let off this marriage pact if all the other suitors suddenly left as well. Hell, maybe you could marry whoever got you this necklace since they apparently know you so well. 
And you swear - maybe it was the fatigue from trekking last night, maybe it was the stress from the past month - but you swear the wind picks up in its chilly bite. Howling just low enough that it sounds like a deep, taunting cackle. 
The necklace doesn’t leave its palace around your neck for the next few days. You still didn’t know who’d gifted it to you - right inside your chambers for god’s sake - and if either of the two suitors remaining knew, they didn’t make any indication of it either. 
Three, technically, but it seemed that the more the days passed, the less you saw of the mysterious king of the Northern kingdom. 
While Sukuna and Naoya had taken it upon themselves to woo you by joining you in your daily activities, he hadn’t even shown his face to you yet. You were sure your father would’ve had him humiliated and thrown out of the palace already if he wasn’t afraid for his life. 
But you didn’t mind, because you saw enough of Satoru to make up for King Gojo and Kashimo. The man seemed well and fully intent to stick by your side, talking yourselves well into the night. 
It was on a night like this - sprawled out along the plush armchairs in the very library you’d met, only a few days after Kashimo’s departure - you asked, “Satoru, what color are your eyes?”
That makes him pause in the middle of his extremely animated story about how he’d caught Earl Yaga in the middle of an artistic dance routine. The baritone of his voice cracking so uncharacteristically as he responds with, “Wh-why do you ask, princess?”
“Because.” you roll your eyes. “In four days m’gonna be marrying, and it might just be your king. Yet, I don’t even know his attendant’s eye color - what type of good queen would I be then?”
You knew it was a flimsy excuse, truthfully you just wanted to see Satoru. All of Satoru.
“Not many have wanted to look into my eyes” 
You tilt your head, “How come?”
“Well, I can assure you that they aren’t half as alluring as yours.” Satoru pushes back your tiara ever-so-slightly to reveal your face to him better, fingers dancing down to fiddle with your pendant. “You’re a strange one, aren’t ya, flower?” he chuckles, face inching closer to yours - and for a moment, you think he might do something else. “Tell me, how are the wedding preparations going?”
Ah, right - the wedding preparations. Your wedding preparations, to someone else. 
Did you want him to do something else?
“W-well-” you pull back from his hypnotic presence. Heart lurching, necklace burning cold into your skin. “Sukuna keeps trying to teach me his very particular diet, I swear I’ve spent much more time with Uraume learning it than with him- they’re a sweetheart though, I can’t complain.” Eyes trying to avoid the intensity of his gaze, “Oh- and Naoya still talks about his weaponry, however, I think his Zenin elders had a word with him because he asked to meet me in the gardens tomorrow evening to actually get to know me for once.”
You brave to take a look at Satoru at the end of his spiel - only to be met with a face you never thought you’d see. His mouth a tight gash, jaw ticking, and you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.
Terrifying. Magnetic. 
Powerful. 
The library was always cold - but you fail to suppress a shiver at the sudden grip in the air. “S-Satoru?”
And suddenly, at the mere sound of your voice, everything clicks back to normalcy. You’re staring that familiar grin painted onto his face again, musing slyly, “How much d’you wanna bet he’ll ask about your weaponry instead?”
“Oh, shut up.”
It’s only much, much later at night when you’re forced to retire early - Satoru slipping past the library earlier than usual with groans of his “attendant duties” that you realize - he didn’t answer your question. 
---
“P-princess, will you be alright going alone? I don’t think-”
“It’ll be alright, Ichiji, I’m just meeting Lord Naoya.” you wave off the stammering man. Tugging your velvety coat snugly around your body, “Honestly, you act like I haven’t been out in the gardens alone before.”
And it was true, since returning from his little meeting with the Kashimo court, your jumpy attendant seemed even more so - and you didn’t even know that was even impossible. Always peeking cautiously behind corners of the winding hallways, always hovering close by you even when his duty didn’t require it. 
He’d told you - in that quiet, shaky voice of his - that Kashimo was well, and headed straight for his kingdom to fulfill emergency duties. To which you’d accepted - you understood the gravity of responsibility, after all. 
“But- but, your highness!” he gasps, pulling you out of your little reverie. “I don’t think- with the way he-”
A spine-chilling breeze rustles the nearby tree, sending shivers down your spine. Howling in your ears. You squint your eyes against the cold, “Sorry, what was that, Ichiji?”
But the man in front doesn’t speak - fuck, you didn’t even know if he was breathing. Face a sickly pallor, mouth gaping open and shut like he wanted to say something - he needed to say something. Yet, he wasn’t even looking at you, wide eyes locked on something over your shoulder. 
“Are you-” Your body holds you back, feeling two burning eyes on you - and you have to force yourself to look over your shoulder. Only to see- nothing? “-are you alright?”
Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you’re turning back to face your attendant - only to see him sprinting back down the entrance as fast as his knobbly legs could carry him. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” you call, hoping it echoed far enough to be heard.
Strange. 
It’s all you can think about for the next half an hour you’re seated on that dainty, painted bench in the middle of the palace gardens, waiting for your potential future husband. And for the next hour. And the next. 
It’s by the time the sun has fully set, when twinkling stars are dotting the night sky that you settle with the conclusion that yes, it seems that Naoya has already made his decision about the marriage. And no it doesn’t end with a wedding. 
“Dammit.” you spit, running a hand through the hair you had Nobara fuss about with. “S’not like I wanted to marry you anyway, bastard.”
And you didn’t - you really didn’t. Whenever you dared to imagine walking down that decorated aisle, Naoya was the last person you saw.
But seated alone and abandoned, trying to cover yourself from the biting chill of the night, you never felt more like an unworthy heir. Fuck, if no one wanted to marry you how would you even dare to think of taking over the throne?
Maybe you should just-
“We have got to stop meeting like this, flower. S’like you’re haunting me.”
“Satoru!” you gasp, throwing yourself into his embrace. You’re reaching up to loop two arms around his neck, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. That asshole had the audacity to stand me up.” Pulling back so your face ghosts his, “I got all dolled up just for him to leave me like this. As if I wanted to be with him, I was just trying to be a good- a good h-host and-” 
Suddenly, you’re struck with the realization of how close you two actually are. You could count every crease on his blindfold, pinpoint exactly where every dimple at the corner of his grin was. 
Your hands slide their way down to his sculpted chest, pushing slightly. “-I apologize, this was forward of me.”
But his arms only tighten around your waist - when did they even get there? Large and steady, pulling you back to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, your racing pulse. “Stay.” he groans, and he sounds slightly out-of-breath, heavy exhales tickling your ear.
“We can’t be caught like this, Satoru.” you breathe, but that familiar little tug has you shuffling closer. Breathing in that familiar metallic sweet scent you’ve grown to love, “I- I’m getting-” Bile creeps up at the back of your throat, and you laugh bitterly. “I think I’m getting married in three days, y’know? To Lord Sukuna, I assume, since two of my suitors ah- ran away and the other refuses to even see my face.”
His thick fingers dig deeper into the extravagant corset at your waist, “I know. Fuck- don’t I know.”
It’s a steady beat of silence, so still. So tense you could hear every stuttering heartbeat of yours, and strangely enough, you had the nagging feeling that he could, too. 
“You could just marry me.” Satoru’s abrupt confession breaks the silence, and you find yourself sinking deeper into his soft coat. Wrapping yourself up in his heady presence. “Be my queen. You wouldn’t have to worry about duties or elders or- or vampires.”
And the night was still. So still. 
Despite the way your heart races, eyes blinking up in disbelief, you find it in yourself to deadpan, “F-funny. Do I have to give you my soul for that as well?” Oh, some stupid little part of you think you might just have.
And you’d expected Satoru to crack a laugh, to give you a teasing smile while he carried on that little inside joke between the two of you. You’d expected him to no sooner shove you off and talk about it being late. Hell, a part of you even expected this to be some elaborate set-up from the elders to get you caught in such a compromising position with the no-longer stranger from the Northern kingdom. 
But, no. It’s anything but that - everything but that. 
Because the taller man only rasps, nose-to-nose now, “No.” Sounding like his sanity was slipping away from him with every breath, fingers making their dance down to twirl your sapphire pendant between them. “I’d give you mine.”
You can feel his breath fanning your cheeks, head dipping slowly - so torturously slowly. As if he was giving you ample opportunity to run away if you wanted to. But you don’t think you could move for the life of you. 
Instead, you’re dipping closer, gliding the tip of your thumb over his defined cheekbone. Mere millimeters away - just one push. Another hand of yours steadies at the back of his neck, feeling those snowing locks under your fingers. 
One. 
Your thumb dips just under the seam of his blindfold - unwillingly. 
“Your highness.” Satoru’s voice is cold, his fingers lacing with your own even colder. Something eerie. And even with the delicate touch you could feel the power thrumming through Satoru’s body. “This is for you.”
You can only stand there in shocked silence as the moment shatters, and he produces a wild rose as if out of thin air. “Consider it from King Gojo.” Touch searing against yours when he hands it to you, you feel drunk off of him “Perhaps the night is late now.”
Right. The king. 
When you’re walking back in the directions of the palace’s warm lights, you don’t think you’ve ever felt safer. Strangely enough. 
“Satoru.”
“Yes?”
“I’m onto you.”
“You’re onto me.” he’s tucking the bloom over your ear. Before stepping back into the inky pool of shadows beside the entrance you came from. “Sweet dreams, flower.”
That night, when you tuck yourself into bed, you swear you hear a faint whisper of those same three words lulling you to sleep. Over and over. 
Sweet.
Dreams.
Flower. 
---
Floral preservation was one of the lessons you’d been forced to attend growing up in the palace, but even you didn’t know how that wild rose Satoru gifted you hadn’t wilted yet. 
It remained as fresh and prim as the night it was picked, bluish pink petals never fading. You didn’t keep it safely in a bowl of water amongst the other plants and flowers in your bedroom. Somehow, never out of place, always tucked safely behind your ear in the days that followed. Perhaps it was improper to keep it on you even when you were being fitted into an engagement gown to be promised off to another man. But Satoru didn’t complain, and you didn’t either. 
With Kashimo departing for his kingdom early, and Naoya apparently following in his footsteps due to “irrevocable differences”, it was now almost confirmed that the future king was to be Lord Sukuna. Not like King Gojo had made any effort to reach out - and Satoru hadn’t mentioned it either. 
Satoru. 
Things were…the same after that night, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
It must be done, you sigh, wincing at the pinch of the flowing white dress being suited onto you by the bustling tailor. At least it could be worse, even if you’d rather…
“Honestly, young people these days.” Yaga speaks up from where he was fussing with the silken hem of your gown for tomorrow. “I heard of that Naoya brat leaving out of nowhere, princess. My condolences.” 
“Ah-” you startle, not expecting to be addressed. “It’s not your fault, we likely didn’t mesh all that well. I just wish he left a note- Honestly, I’m lucky to even have a suitor left after these six days.”
Another grimace leaves you when you feel another tweak of pins pricking at your skin. The other man hums lowly, “Don’t say that, anyone would be lucky to have you. Anyway-” He gets up from his position kneeling, towering over you to admire his own work. “How do you like it, your highness?”
You let out a gasp when you face the floor-length mirror, “Oh my god, it’s perfect.” The dress was regal, decadent. With flowing tresses resembling a petals, and gilded gold and blue weaved into the fabric. 
Blue. 
“I fashioned it after that necklace and flower of yours.” You unwittingly reach for that familiar pendant, “I ah- forgive the assumption, but I assumed you would be wearing them both at the betrothal ceremony tomorrow, princess?”
Taking another long look in the mirror, you nod, “Yeah. I will.”
---
“I knew it.” he laughs shrilly. “I fuckin’ knew there was something wrong with you. As soon as I saw you butterin’ the princess up in the library, I knew you were a fuckin’ freak.”
The other man only responds with ominous silence, letting labored breathing cut through the bone-chilling air. Clearly unsatisfied, “What? Not gonna talk now? Aren’t ya just in it for the crown like me? Have the bitch, just give me the crown.” Goading now, “I bet you’re not even an attendant are ya- I know what you are-”
His words are cut off with another choked-up gasp, followed shortly by a strained growl. “I know- what you are-”
Red stains the marble floor - a problem for later. 
“I know, King Gojo.” And it’s the last thing he sees. “And you’ll reap what you sow, she’ll never love you.”
Blue. 
“You’ve haunted me too long, flower.”
“Satoru–!” you scream, throwing your soft bed sheets off your body. 
It was burning - you were burning, gasping for the cold lungfuls of air that filled your empty bedroom. Mind bleary, distantly, you register that it’s around daybreak - tiny fingers of golden sunlight just barely dipping through your window - your open window. 
Hastily, you’re tumbling out of bed to slam it shut. Heart still pounding when you take in the mess of flower petals from those congratulatory bouquets you’d gotten. Ruined. Only the stems left in the vases after that sudden, chilling wind. 
“What-” Your eyes dart around to look over your dresser, where you always kept Satoru’s wild rose. And a shiver creeps down your spine when you realize it lay snug tucked behind your ear, safe and sound. Exactly where you didn’t keep it. “-happened?”
You couldn’t settle back into bed after that - couldn’t even think about it. So you find yourself reaching for your wardrobe of dresses, running your fingers along the intricate gown made for your engagement ball tonight. Your engagement to Sukuna. 
If this was the nightmare, and tonight was to be the dream - why did your stomach turn so?
---
It was difficult convincing Nobara to let you keep the wild rose on after getting ready. 
“But that’s so last season.” she bemoans. “No offense, your highness, but even old lady Ogami wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flowers in her hair these days.”
You’re giving her your best puppy dog eyes, “Please, Nobara?”
“No.”
“I’ll let you raid my exclusive wardrobe the next time you want to play dress-up?”
“...”
Which was how you found yourself shoved into a dress that was way too gorgeously palatial, barely even having the time to admire the lush gold and blue decorations around the sparkling ballroom before you were being ushered next to your father on his throne. 
You fiddle with your ringed fingers, feeling more and more like a lamb sent to slaughter - a very opulent slaughter - with each step. 
“I am so proud of you for this week, and you look absolutely divine, my love.” your father whispers into your ear once you’re up on the crushed velvet platform. “I hear from Ichiji that you know, I apologize we couldn’t go through with this marriage under better circumstances.”
You shake your head, giving him a calm smile - you’d already forgiven him, sometimes there was duty far greater than any man. 
“My people, as promised, we are gathered once more to celebrate the joining of two hands - and two kingdoms.” The king projects his voice out to the eager crowd, “Together, these two young loves will face their duty. They will face the dangers. They will face our future.”
The thought had you clenching your fist into the soft fabric of your gown, looking down at your feet in a bow. 
“As I did with my father before me - God rest his soul - the future king and queen will oversee their responsibilities to protect our people from those treacherous vampires. The elders-” he stops short, eyes widening at the empty seats on the balcony - where the table of elders always sat. Abandoned. Chilling. “...have decreed, in accordance with our princess, to introduce my daughter to you all as our future queen-”
Your father gestures a hand your way, and you step forwards to cheers, still not daring to look up. And all you could see were two, gold-toed boots stepping into your field of vision.
“-and our future king!”
“Look up, flower, this is the best part.”
Gasping, you raise your head - Satoru.
“Y-you?” 
He smiles that pearly smile at you, one that makes your knees weaken, “Me.” Before leaning down conspiratorially,  “Better get moving now, the king just declared that the big bad Northern king and the precious princess will have their first dance as a couple.”
It felt like you were moving through a dream as you slip your hand into his, flinching at the feeling of his cold lips meeting the back of your hand.
The crowd of whispering nobles part to make a path for the two of you, and Satoru is so gentle when he leads you into the middle of the dance floor. Weightless on his feet, swiftly placing a burning hand on your waist - just below where the elders would consider proper. 
The other intertwining with yours, you barely even register the slow, romantic tune playing from the orchestra. 
“I bet you have questions.” he whispers, breath fanning your cheeks. 
You take in his tall figure, the rows of medals, gleaming only half as bright as the smile that makes its way onto your face. Hissing, “That doesn’t cover the half of it, King Gojo.”
“I-I apologize. I can’t apologize enough but-”
“Though, I did have a nagging feeling about the fifth time you talked yourself up.” you smirk.
Satoru throws his head back in a loud cackle, echoing through the hushed crowds - no doubt gossiping about this being the Northern king, that fearful beast that ruled over the Gojo family. “I know.” His hand comes up momentarily to brush over your sapphire necklace, “And I’ll spend our entire lives making it up to you, flower.”
Goosebumps dance down your arm, your spine, right down to where Satoru held a firm grip on your hip. You two waltz around the edge of the dance floor, perfectly in time. Through the crowd of grumbling lords, the orchestra, past the table of foods.
“And exactly how long would the rest of our lives be, Satoru?”
Slowing right in front of that huge, reflective wall. 
You couldn’t see his eyes, but his biting gaze was all you could feel. 
Lingering on the blue pendant nestled at your chest, the everlasting wild rose tucked behind your ear, the mirror to your right - where the twin image of you shone. Powerful, gorgeous, everything that a monster like him could never have because he wasn’t standing there right next to you. His kind never could. 
In the back of your mind, you registered collective gasps sounding all around you - the rest of the ball attendees that’d also taken note of the lack of Satoru’s reflection. But your eyes stay locked on him. 
A thumb hooks under his blindfold, and he grimaces. “You really were onto me, huh, flower?”
Tugging. 
Your fingers tighten around his, unable to let the most fearsome of creatures escape from your grasp. “You must’ve been onto me, too, Satoru.”
Pulling. 
All you see is a flash of a regal nose bridge, and the flutter of thick white lashes - before every single chandelier in the ballroom snuffs out at once. Cloaking the room in unnatural darkness, it sends every single knight and noble into a frenzy. 
And then, he opens his eyes. 
“IT’S HIM-”
“A body! A BODY FOUND IN THE ROYAL GUEST SUITE–
“VAMPIRE! STAY BACK-“
Oh, it’s blue. 
That crystal blue. 
And then it’s black.
---
SLAM!
“If you must kill me.” Satoru’s voice sounds from somewhere above you. You blink away the darkness, feeling your bleary gaze try and adjust to that unfamiliar high ceiling, the outlines of hauntingly beautiful paintings on it. His ragged breaths cut through your thoughts once more, hastily folding your hand to grip your pendant. “If you must kill me, then I prefer you do it with your own hands, princess.”
You can’t tell whose hand is trembling more - yours or his. Distantly, you realize you’re being pushed up against a luxuriously padded wall, one you’d never seen before in your life. 
Where were you?
“The Gojo palace- Please-” he reads your mind, voice breaking at the end of his plea. Gasping - and you can discern two elongated teeth at his canines. Fangs, you realize with a shiver. “You may leave if you want to, you may kill me for what I’ve done. My life is in your hands.”
“Satoru.” you soothe in a hushed voice, despite the way your head was reeling. The Gojo palace? “I won’t kill you.”
“But-”
“Satoru, what does this necklace mean?” You beg, and at this point, you’re not surprised that the necklace is from him - because it was an exact replica of the two burning eyes staring back at you. The only source of light right now, glowing a blue you’d finally found after a lifetime. “Why did you-” you gulp, heart lurching. “Why did you hand me your…life?”
Soft lips play right over your rapid pulse, murmuring into your skin, “S’my soul.” A long, pale index of his plays with the pendant. “The only part of my soul that’s living, gilded into a necklace to be kept in the safest place I know. You.”
“But-” you cry out, trying to get another look at his eyes - but your fiancé only kisses deeper at your neck. Nibbling at the thundering beat just below. “But why did you give it to me?”
“Who else would I give it to, if not for my mate?”
Mates - there were a thousand and one books and official documents detailing everything from a vampire’s killing pattern to the aphrodisiac toxins found in their blood. But the research on a vampire’s mate was far and few between.
Perhaps owing to the lack of willing mates that can come out without persecution, or perhaps due to the vampires’ intense rumored mating rituals. But it didn’t go without its own gossip, you were no stranger to the ladies of the court tittering about how morbidly “romantic” it was that mates were akin to soulmates - how it was an invisible string connecting two people to share a life, a soul. 
A vampire’s one and only mate.
Satoru was pinning you harder to the wall now, his pink tongue darting out to lick over your pulse. The fingers holding onto the necklace were now tilting your chin up at him, “Speak to me, flower.”
“I’m your mate?” you whimper, your lips ghosting over his. Already knowing the answer, but fuck you needed to hear it from him. “What does that mean exactly?”
He lets out a pained grunt, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “It means you’re the other half of my soul. My only one, I was born for you.” Pressing a chaste peck on there - and you swear you could feel the nip of two sharp canines against your skin. “The one I’ll fight heaven and hell for, until the very last beat of my cold, dead heart.” Your fingers curl at his shoulders when his mouth moves to the shell of your ear. “The one I’ll kill for, take out every measly scum that thinks they can get with my mate.”
He huffs out a burst of cold laughter when your breath hitches, probably reading over the thoughts running through your mind - Satoru killed them. The guards, Kashimo, Naoya- fuck, maybe even Sukuna. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. 
You shiver, “A-and all the wind? The whispers? I thought it was just you these past week b-but- All my life, that was you?”
You know. You knew. 
Another kiss - this time to the corner of your eye, and Satoru licks a long, content stripe up the big fat tears unwillingly welling up behind your eyes. He groans at the salty taste of you, taking in a long, drawn-out breath. “Yes.”
All it takes is that single word for your entire body to collapse, thankfully onto an awaiting Satoru. He holds your entire body weight with one hand around your waist, the other coming up to swipe his thumb under those tears rolling down your cheeks now. 
He kisses your cheek, “All your life.” The corner of your lips, “And all of mine.” 
Run away run away run away run away-
But you can’t - you don’t want to.
Your lips wobble when he nuzzles down your face, leaving a trail of hot kisses with his cold, cold mouth. “As soon as I learned to use my powers - was just a brat you see - I just had to see my mate. To smell her scent.” He’s inhaling deeply again, hands groping over your engagement gown. “Lo and behold, there was you. A cute lil’ princess around my age, tuckered out and fast asleep.” Lingering at your jaw, the hand tight around your waist pulls you painfully closer. Satoru’s knee wedging itself between your trembling thighs, “Imagine my surprise when she took one look at me and cried. Scared me enough to teleport outta there as soon as you opened that smart mouth, flower.”
And the thought of Satoru - tiny and determined - teleporting halfway across the land only to be yelled at by you has you huffing out a shock of laughter.
“So when I heard through the grapevine about your potential engagement, fuck- I couldn’t have ran out of this palace faster. Was so excited I fuckin’ forgot to teleport, too. Even if you were afraid of the ‘cruel Northern king.’” 
Fuck - that’s right. He must’ve heard your thoughts that time you met him in the library. 
Satoru’s tone drops to a low simper, so close now that you could feel every slight curve of his grin. Every twitch of his fingers sweeping up and down your exposed skin, feeling the delicious thrum of your veins. He could bite you right now - easily.  “And luckily, as I grew up, so did my ability to blend in with the darkness.” Eyes boring into yours, something so vulnerable in them now. “But you found me, you always did.”
“Satoru.” you angle your head upwards. “Kiss me.”
And how could he ever deny you?
You wince at the slight pinch of Satoru’s teeth - his fangs - as he crashes his lips into yours in a greedy kiss. Sliding his tongue over to taste those candied lips he’s been dreaming of for years. 
“Fuck-” he breathes out through his nose, jaw sagging open further to kiss you deeper. “Fuck, princess.”
Strong arms pin you harder against the wall, and you’re blindly reaching out to reciprocate even a fraction of Satoru’s neediness. Just dragging your hips up and down his muscled thighs. Sinful. 
Shit, it was so endearing to him seeing you struggle to touch him this way. And with a flick of a wrist, the candle chandeliers hung high above your heads are lighting up at once. “S’that better, flower?”
It takes every bit of will in you to manage to pull away, yet the thought of seeing Satoru - of really seeing Satoru is what spurs you to break the kiss. Delicate strings of saturated spit snapping in the non-existent air between you two, you take a long look at your new husband.
Fuck, he was so pretty.
You always knew he was. 
But even with his face tilted downwards, within the soft light tinting those snowy strands a sunset yellow - you could make out the pretty pink flush all the way from his glossy, ravaged lips, up, up, up to his delicate cheeks - he looked like the last thing from a monster. 
“No you’re pretty.” he hums, and you’re still not used to him reading your mind. Head nodding downwards, “Just look, grinding on my thigh like such a slut.”
What met you was a dark pool of slick saturating his trousers,  just peeking out over the hem of your dress. It makes you give another lingering, experimental grind.
“Satoru—” you’re letting out a honeyed drag of his name, reveling in the way it makes him swallow heavily. “You can hear my thoughts, right?” Look at me. 
Slowly - but surely - familiar blue meets yours. Half-lidded, pupils blown, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said there were tiny sparks of lightning at the corners of his long white lashes.
You’ve been haunting me my whole life, Toru.
And it was an accident - it really was, your freshly kissed brain too hazy to slur out Satoru’s full name. But the impromptu little nickname has him dragging forwards like he was magnetized. 
A low growl escaping when he’s kissing you again. And again. And again and again and-
“Say it-” Two hands are tugging at those tedious ribbons tying your decadent gown together. Pulling. “Say it again f’me.” Ripping. 
The more his lips are assaulting yours, the more the dress slips further and further down your shoulders. Tattered. The soft satin leaving goosebumps down your spine as it reveals your neckline - all that skin for him to ruin. To mark. 
“Oh-” you’re squealing when one of Satoru’s fangs prick a bit too hard at your lip. Feeling a hot flow of crimson bleed out, the feeling has you so weak. So drunk. “Quite eager, aren’t ya?”
“You have no idea.” he groans again. Soft tongue moving from swirling around your own to lazily pool your blood on it. And you can’t imagine what about the metallic taste would be so euphoric, but he’s letting out his loudest drag of your name yet. Eyes rolling to the back of his head like he’s just tasted a personal slice of heaven. “Fuck- fuck you have no idea.”
You moan into the kiss when he bites down again on your already-bruised lower lip, “I’ve always wanted to do this-” Slow, slow hands kneading up your waist, at a dizzying tempo matching his mouth down your jaw, your neck. Hips bucking, you feel the outline of something so hard between his legs. “-to kiss you. To-” Tethering on the sensitive area of your pulse, “-bite.”
In a split-second, you’re sinking down into plush silk sheets, swallowing you whole in a king-sized bed you didn’t even realize was in the room before. 
“S-Satoru, did you teleport us again?” you gasp, eyes adjusting to the intricate paintings on the ceiling that you hadn’t gotten to admire before. Of white-haired youths and roses, of cold, dark palaces and- and you. 
You - when you were younger, sleeping peacefully while a little boy watches intrigued from the corner. You - passed out in the library after a long night of reading, two pale hands wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. You - your brows furrowed, head cocked while you pushed past nobles to search for that flash of his blue. You, you, you.
You. 
“I can hear the gears in that pretty head turning.” Satoru grins, still kissing you in a languid graze of lips. “And as much as I love it when you hah- admire my lonely paintings, I’d rather you pay attention to-” A low groan curdles at the back of his throat when he’s grinding his massive clothed erection against the syrupy spot at your core. “-me.”
There’s a dark little huff of laughter and with one last bite at the side of your neck, Satoru’s unapologetically tearing right through the middle of your gown. 
And you know it’s made with the finest fabrics the country has to offer, you know that no normal man should be able to even rip a tiny shred through your dress - but Satoru is no ordinary man.
Your spike of disappointment is quickly overshadowed by cold breath hovering over your exposed tits. “Oh, so perfect f’me.” he’s groaning, deep and primal. Biting down on your hardened nipple, “Ya think those uptight elders your court has- ah, had would appreciate me desecrating their precious princess before marriage?”
Through gasps, you peek down at his wicked tongue, swirling around the sensitive spots of your areola. “Who- who gives a shit.”
“So feisty.” The peaks of your tits are left coated in him as Satoru pulls away. “So addictive.” Pinching your soft flesh between his teeth - just hard enough that you worry he’s out to draw blood again. “So- so-” 
Words are failing Satoru’s sharp mouth as he kisses his way down your body. The valley of your chest, your stomach, your hips.
Down, down, down-
“Fuck, Satoru-” you’re hissing when he easily pulls the pathetic remains of your dress off and onto the floor. The rest of your inner skirts easily following afterwards. “Are you gonna…”
“M’afraid not.” he licks sloppy circles at the skin of your thighs. Tasting, nipping, leaving little marks with his fangs for later. Sloppily soothing his tongue over the tiny droplets of blood beading from the bites, he murmurs stubbornly, “Not until you address me correctly.”
Hesitantly, you reach out a limp hand to thread through his dampening white tresses. Tugging softly to lock those devouring blue eyes with yours, “Please, Toru?”
You get absolutely no warning when he kisses right through that flimsy excuse of your drenched panties to slide his tongue up and down your sopping wet slit. Up and down up and down up and-
“Sh-shit, Toru-” you moan when he’s just dipping the very tip barely past your puffy folds. The fabric of your underwear still sticking to you, “Stop being such a tease, goddammit ngh-”
“Why?” Of course, he toys with your patience even now, addicted to those needy whines falling from your lips. “I jus’ wanna play with my princess’s pretty pussy. What am I getting out of it?” 
You smirk, not even having to move your pretty mouth to know you had him in the palm of your hand already. I’d be your mate for life. 
It’s all you can do to watch with satisfaction as the great Gojo Satoru gasps - gasps. Slick-glossed lips falling into a soft oh! Hazy eyes widening almost-comically, and at full heady attention while he takes a few seconds to mull over your words. 
RIP!
In an instant, your soaked underwear is ripped clean off to bare your dripping cunt for him, wrapped tightly around Satoru’s fingers and disappearing down below to where your imagination couldn’t handle. 
“Oh, such a pretty pussy.” he coos, thumbing apart your puffy folds to admire your lewdly winking cunt. Glistening and so so needy, you jolt when he bullies two long fingers past your sloppy entrance. With your greedy hole swallowing every slender inch of Satoru’s fingers easily, “So needy too. This all f’me?”
As if to prove his point, his pink lips wrap around your throbbing clit, grinding his tongue over the ravaged tip. The harsh texture of his tastebuds rolling over every inch of you he could reach.
“Y-yes-” you squeal, hips bucking down mindlessly to try and match his relentless tempo. “S’only for you.”
“Tha’s what I love to hear-” Satoru’s cheeks hollow when he sucks on your sensitive little nub - hard. “Sweeter than I even imagined, shit-”
Every pump of his merciless fingers in and out of your cunt drags along your gummy walls. Deftly curling to prey at those hidden sweet spots of yours he just knew would wrench out such throaty moans from you - and fuck, Satoru thinks- no, he knows that the sound is is favorite song. 
“You’re makin’ me- hah making me fall in love all over again.” he gruffs out into your cunt. The pads of his fingers pressing into the cushiony ends of your pussy. “Because look how messy you are- how loud.”
You didn’t know if he had mind-control powers on top of mind-reading, because it’s as if you’re on auto-pilot when your lolling head is whirling down to look at the absolute sin made of you below. Satoru - running his mouth a mile a minute to send white-hot vibrations along your clit. His milky fingers buried knuckle-deep to stretch out your poor cunt. Your sweet sweet juices drooling all over them in such an obscene sheen down his palm, his wrist. 
He whines, “Makin’ me wanna-” You jolt when he’s biting down so dangerously around your clit. “Wanna-”
Satoru doesn’t end up finishing his sentence - and he doesn’t have to. 
Because he’s pausing his make-out with your clit to spit once. Twice. A thick thumb swiping at the intentional splatter of saliva marking your skin, before surging forwards even deeper - you didn’t even think that was possible. But Satoru has the tip of his nose rubbing methodical circles against your clit, jaw grinding at the base of your pussy, tongue flattening out your pussy lips.
Messy. Harsh. 
“Oh- oh my god, Toru-” you’re keening at the feeling of his wet muscle trying to squeeze in past the fingers still continuing their assault on your entrance. “It- it won’t fit–”
“Shhh shhh, s’okay, princess.” he hushes, letting another round glob of spit wet your clingy pussy. “You can take it. You will - otherwise how are you gonna take your husband, hm?”
That little comment has connotations that make your plushy walls clamp down vice-like around his fingers - his tongue. And you’re angling your head just right, blinking away the lustful haze in your eyes to spy down at the rapid, jerky movements of his other hand. Devouring gaze dropping down to-
Oh. 
Oh fuck.
It was difficult to even look at the sight below - your panties, soaked and completely see-through with slick and precum, wrapped prettily around what you could make out to be Satoru’s aching cock. Standing proud, twitching wildly with every drag of his fist up and down his glistening length. 
“Fuck-” he groans, taking the opportunity to devilishly slip his tongue past your feeble entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- y’like this, huh?” Drawled out little praises now muffled as he fucks you on his tongue the way he wished he could with his cock. In and out in and out in and out. Pulling back to eye your gaping hole, “I can feel y’getting wetter for me is it because-” Before surging back forwards, as if he’s addicted. “Because-” Again.“Fuck don’t clench around me that way. Was hard enough trying not to fuck you stupid right there in the middle of the ballroom.” 
You whine, tears flowing down freely at the sheer pleasure at this point. “Y-you-” you gasp, your five fingers splaying out over Satoru’s head. Pushing even harsher, “You hngh- talk too much- m’so close-”
Partially because you really needed those pretty lips back at your heated core, partially because every word tumbling from his mouth had you throbbing embarrassingly, your slick spreading a glossy sheen on the sheets underneath you. 
“Oh yeah? Heh, anything for you, flower.” Satoru grins such a sly, sultry grin and you feel it against one set of your swollen lips. “Absolutely anything.”
In and out in and out. He has his brows furrowed now, concentrated on having every flick and divot of movement pushing you closer and closer towards the edge. Faster. Sloppier. You have half the mind to wonder whether it didn’t hurt - whether Satoru’s tongue wasn’t cramping up from how fast he was going, whether his fingers weren’t tired already.
Out of the corner of your spotty vision, you can see those stuttering squeezes of Satoru’s hand speed up. Trying desperately to match each bullying push of his tongue and his fingers into your overstuffed pussy. 
The thought makes you whine, “Oh my god- Toru, m’gonna cum.” And shit, at this point it’s too much. You couldn’t think - you couldn’t even breathe. “M’so close please.” Barely able to even register anything but Satoru Satoru Satoru-
It’s why you don’t even realize at first when you’re finally cumming - Satoru does, though. He feels it in the way your heavenly walls are closing down on his fingers, clenching around him so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your orgasm. Waves of electric pleasure crashing into you and you think you’re drowning.
“Tha’s it.” he rasps. “Cum f’me like that, tha’s it- thaaat’s it, such a good lil’ wife- a perfect mate.” 
The fingers stuffed deep inside your pussy are being pulled out in a flash - not letting you waste a moment of your heady high before he’s toying ravenously with your swollen clit. Pinching, and rolling between two soft fingers. 
“O-oh fuck, m’-cumming? M’cumming m’cumming-” you moan deliriously, mind just now catching up. Your hips drag your sloppy pussy all over Satoru’s pretty face. Just drenching his noble features with your gushing mess. “Feels too ah- good, Toru.”
And he takes it like it’s everything he needs - everything he’s ever wanted. 
Jaw falling slack to let your juices slide down his throat, tongue lolling out flick your spasming cunt through your high. Unstopping. Unwavering. 
Even when your vision stops tingeing with black at the edges, even when you think you’re sane enough to form a coherent thought. Even when your climax is bating enough that every flick of Satoru’s tongue only sends almost painful thrums of pleasure down your spine.
“W-wait m’done-” you sob, tasting the salty stream of tears splashing down your face now. “S’too sensitive- ngh-”
When he doesn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon, you try again - this time thinking the embarrassing thought out loud. I…I really want you inside me now, Toru. Please?
And he pauses - jolting, as if some dark, primal part of him had just been called back to life. Tongue still hot on your cunt, fist still greedy around his rock-hard shaft. 
“F-fuck you’re gonna be the death of me, flower.”
And before, you couldn’t get enough of those striking blue eyes, but now you couldn’t escape them.
With inhuman speed, he’s shuffling up the soaked sheets. “An absolute fuckin-” Slick-glossed lips meet yours, smearing along the combination of juices till the lower half of your face was as dripping wet as Satoru’s. “-minx, y’know that?”
“Wh-what can I say?” you tilt your head with a smirk, lips a bit too loose than you’d like - but it didn’t matter anyway, he was in your thoughts. Your mind. “I’m your mate, after all.”
He falls back onto his knees at that sinful little sentence of yours, throwing his head back in a guttural groan. “Fuck- you’re mine alright. See what you hah- do to me? See how this is all your fault?” 
If Satoru expected an answer, then he doesn’t receive it. Because every snippy little retort on the tip of your tongue melts when you get a long, hard look at the angry shaft in his hand. So red and angry. Thick enough that you felt your cunt quiver already.
Delicate with prominent veins that glistened and throbbed down his long, long length with each slew of his vigorous fist. And his tip- fuck, blushed your favorite shade of weepy pink, slobbering a sheen of precum all down his wrist, his tufts of cloudy white. 
And you realize with a jolt that he still had your panties wrapped around him - looking so tiny around Satoru’s massive cock. 
Wordlessly, your hand replaces his.
“W-woah- fuck-” His toned waist flexes with the effort to fuck up into the soft cushion of your palm. “How the- ngh how the fuck does your fuckin’ hand feel this good?”
“You’re so big- fuck, don’t know how I’d- Wait you never imagined this?” you bat your eyes up with faux innocence. A thumb gliding over that deep divot on the very tip of his fat head. “Because I sure have, Toru.” 
Satoru’s heavy balls smack against your arm when he shuffles down his pants even further, now fully letting you go ahead with your agonizing torture. “Shit-” he yelps, eyes screwing shut at the image. “Don’t- don’t say that, holy shit.”
You toy with your scrap of panties, massaging every ridge and curve with it. Just dragging your hand up and down. “Would you rather I think it instead?”
Within milliseconds, two sharp fangs are poised right above your rapid pulse, a hand around your throat. “No- no no no no-” Satoru gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his rope. And it takes him a few blinks to realize his position, immediately moving his lips up to nip at your jaw. “Fuckin’ no.” Hard enough that another red pearl of blood drips out, instantly being sucked up greedily by your fiancé. “Gonna make me lose it before I-I ngh-”
With a pained growl, he suddenly has you sitting so prettily on his muscular lap. Your legs splayed out like such a slut, needy cunt slobbering all over where you were sat right on his demanding erection. 
By the time you’re realizing your helpless position, it’s too late - and Satoru’s already shrugging off the rest of his pants. Buttons hitting the floor when he just tears his flowing dress shirt off. 
“Sh-show off.” you breathe, hands mapping out every dip and curve of the plane of defined muscles displayed before you. So mouthwatering. 
“Can tell that you- ngh think m’mouthwatering, flower.” he grins. One hand kneading and groping the flesh of your ass to steady your drooling cunt to kiss at his thick tip. The other keeping one of your palms stuck to his washboard abs, up, up, up to press at his sculpted left pec. “N’ I know m’heart’s not beating, but I’m much the same. Very- much the- same.”
And Satoru’s spent years waiting, yearning - so he doesn’t waste even a second more when stuffing his cock inside your snug cunt. 
“O-oh. Satoru- Satoru please oh-”
The stretch - fuck, the stretch. The stretch is so much that it feels like you’re being split apart. Just the bare tip of his fat cock being bullied in short, determined half-thrusts. 
And it takes only one, lucky collision into the bullseye of your g-spot and you’re already falling apart. 
“Wait- wait wait wait m’gonna-” you gasp, your nails running down his broad, milky back in jagged red lines when you’re cumming once more. Toes curling, hips convulsing wildly on top of a smug Satoru. “Oh my god, ngh- what’ve you done to me, Toru?”
“Now, let me ngh- let me tell you a little secret, hah- princess.” His hand comes up to cup your jaw, gifting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. “The best thing about mates?” Sharp fangs catch onto your delicate skin, “They feel sex on a whole other level.”
And then he’s bringing down both hands to spread apart the globes of your ass. Your puffy folds are stretched to their limits when he thrusts up once. Muscled thighs flexing underneath yours. Harsh. 
Ignoring your pleading keens and the slight resistance at the intrusion of his intimidating size, “Hold on, princess- hold- fuuuuck.” Lips latch onto yours, drinking up every heady whine when your poor cunt is being fed every inch by fucking inch. “You’re taking me so well.”
And that you were - your pussy lips bulging and struggling to accommodate Satoru’s monstrous size, but still taking him in so greedily. 
“There we go.” he grunts out, punctuated with heavy rams of hips. Up, up, up until you could feel Satoru’s sobbing tip graze against your cervix - your lungs. “Theeere we fuckin’-” Pushing and pushing until there was no more, until your neglected clit was scratching against his snowy pubic hair. Ass coming to rest at his twitching balls. “-go.”
“You’re in so deep-” you’re blabbering, cockdrunk already. The last few dredges of your high still not wearing off, it takes you a few seconds of Satoru still trying to squeeze his cock even deeper to manage to raise a hand about midway up your stomach. Feeling for that vertical bulge that was him, “-can feel you right here.”
“Oh yeah?”
And like he was testing your theory, Satoru fucks up into your gummy hole in another bullying slam. Watching in wonder at the way that little divot in your stomach crashes around the same spongy cervix he was. 
“Fuck- you’re right.” he hisses. Addicted now. Immediately rocking into you with reeling, long rolls of his hips. “You’re so- fuckin’ right.”
You can’t find the energy in yourself to even yelp in surprise when Satoru immediately changes your positions so that you’re now laying fucked-out on the mattress. His domineering hips pinning you down to use you like some little cocksleeve. 
“God-” he pants into your open mouth, tongue swirling with your weighty one. “God- fuck fuck fuck if heaven is real then this is it.” Each little profanity is decorated with a smoldering crash of his tip into your sweet spot. “You’re the heaven I don’t ngh- deserve, flower.”
That neat bitemark on your thigh is being jostled with the amount of ragged movement, and you wince with pain when it starts flowing again. 
“Oh- oh.” 
Satoru’s like a predator that has cornered his prey, and is spending hours tediously unraveling every single bit of you. 
Sliding two smooth palms underneath your legs, they’re urgently thrown over his large shoulders to fold you down, down, down into the meanest mating press you think you could handle - handle without fucking breaking, that is. 
“So good t’me.” he breathes, long tongue easily licking up that sweet nectar of your blood. “Y’know your cute lil’ brain s’too scrambled to even read right now.”
“H-how can I think when you’re ah! Like- like this, Toru?”
The sudden change in angle makes you scream. It makes you clamor for the headboard, the sheets, your husband when that obscenely perfect upwards curve of his dick is massaging every nook and cranny of your cunt. 
“Yeah? Feels good? Now now- don’t run- away” he’s dragging you down those drenched sheets by the legs like some ragdoll, stuffing you more and more with his painful cock. Fucking you so relentless, like he was trying to worship every little hidden sweet spot inside your dripping cunt. “Say it- no no no, not in your head. Say it.”
And you do - a little over fifteen times when his thick hilt pecks your pussy lips over and over with each thrust when Satoru bottoms out, hitting all the way into the back of your cunt - your cervix, your g-spot - like he couldn’t decide which one to bruise more. 
“S’too good-” you’re gasping. Your overstimulated pussy being molded like clay to the girthy shaft kissing down your cunt. Stretching out your elastic walls until you could almost feel them take shape to his swollen cock. Feel every sensitive spot inside you being overstimulated at once with every burning massage against them. “You’re fuckin’ me way too- too good- ngh- can’t even think.”
But that wasn’t enough for him.
Dipping a thumb down to circle around your clit, white-hot pleasure shoots up your spine when he lets out a deep rumble, “Think I fell in love with you when I- fuck, right then and there when I first- hah saw you all those years back.” speeding up with the sloppy staccato of his rude cock. Satoru’s words slurring now, messed up and half-prepared like the accelerating half-thrusts being bestowed upon your ravaged cunt. Like he couldn’t bear to pull out completely. “The first time you saw me, you were so afraid. Look at you- fuck, jus’ look at you now, princess.”
Each word is like a brand onto your sticky skin, accompanied by harsh smacks of Satoru’s balls against your ass, his sharp hip bones digging into your thighs. Him.
“Toru–” is all you can manage to whine out, a limp hand pulling his face closer to yours. You’re jumping with each swipe at your poor clit. “Toru m’here.”
“And- and yet-” he’s still blabbering, still pussydrunk while he fucks you so menacingly. Fingers sopping wet with their assault on your sensitive nub, “And yet I just- fuck-” He cuts himself off to give your messy hole another thick stream of spit. Coating his long, raw shaft - rubbed red with the way your gripping walls were massaging him so right - making it easier to slide in and out. “And yet, I just had to see you, to see the gorgeous mate I don’t deserve. I couldn’t live without you.”
A single overstimulated tear glistens a track down Satoru’s pretty face - one you kiss away as quickly as it appeared. Nudging open those teary, blue gaze to bore down on you. 
Oh, he looked an absolute wreck - white hair mussed up, stray strands sticking to his forehead. Glossy lips parted, drool pooling at the corner, broken grunts leaving him with each smash of his tip back into your cunt. So blissed out. 
Jolting at your eyes on him, Satoru feels his balls tighten so painfully. Abs burning when his pace stutters with need. 
“You’re haunting me, just as much as I was haunting you, Toru.”
The candles go out. Instantly. 
And shit you’re feeling it first when when hé’s cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Flashes of white startling behind his closed, glassy eyes. “Shit- shit shit shit shit-” Hairs on your body raising as Satoru’s fingers draw circles on your clit so aggressively. Dragging out your high. Forcing it. “Take it- take it all, my flower. Let me paint this pretty pussy all white.” Violent, almost.
So, really, it makes sense that your third orgasm of the night was the same. 
Just shivering, sinful tingles running from your overstimulated mind right down to where Satoru was stuffing thick white ropes of potent seed deeper and deeper down your tight channel. 
Overspilling with each calculated ram, his cum is oozing out of the corners of your puffy lips with each furious clench of his balls. Too much. 
And it’s all you can do to sit there and take it, feeling the sloppy dredges of cum make a mess slobbering down your thighs and his. Starting up blearily at the blurry paintings on the ceilings. The paintings of you - of a still Satoru that looked down at you with only half as much intensity and pure swirling emotion as he was right now.
Something that couldn’t be painted - but would make such a pretty picture, when his fangs bite into that racing junction at your neck.
You scream a soundless scream of his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head as something warm fills your entire body. 
Leaving your words unheard, your ravaged hole loose to let out slobbering squelches of Satoru’s cum. Blood racing and flowing right into Satoru’s greedy mouth. 
“Princess-” he gulps. Tongue licking up every crimson bead his crazed eyes could spot, body aching when he dares pull away from that heavenly taste. More. “Princess princess princess- you- hngh you’re mine. All mine now.”
And he’s letting out more thick globs of cum straight into your waiting cunt. Body bowing even harder to let it seep into your elastic walls, your womb. So much more than you can take and he just keeps giving. 
It seems like forever when Satoru finally pulls away - and within the glowing blue of his eyes, you can see the red staining his lips, dripping down those fangs, his chin. Staining the silk sheets below - staining you with so much more. 
Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching up to catch his lips in a bloodied kiss. Your own elongated canines catching amateurishly on his lips. 
Satoru hisses - but he likes it. And you can tell. 
You can read every single hypnotizing thought whirling behind those crystal blue eyes - how he wants to ravish you again, how he wants to worship you. To make you his all over, to have you make him yours. The thought makes you smile as you whisper, “I’m onto you, Toru.”
“You’re onto me, flower.” Catching your lips in a sweet, sweet red kiss. “Forever.”
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A/N. This was SOOO fun to write omg y’all have no idea. If you made it this far then you get a sloppy smooch from me mwahhhh.
Plagiarism of work not authorized.
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aphel1on · 6 months ago
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the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.
the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)
both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!
and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.
that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".
and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.
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this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.
a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.
it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.
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there's several things to note here:
thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder
eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble
they're not actually eating anything.
those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.
it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.
but even that last happened a long, long time ago.
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this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.
paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.
he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.
isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.
thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.
when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.
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i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.
therefore casually forgetting the creepy eodio doll isn't real.
thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.
yet still...
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he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.
this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.
all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.
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vivwritesfics · 3 months ago
Text
Cowgirl
He was just there to see Kate, to make sure she was all right after what happened. He didn't expect to run into the pretty cowgirl and her horse.
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There was an unfamiliar white truck in the driveway. There was always unfamiliar trucks in the driveway, always some rich asshole trying to purchase the land out from under their feet.
She patted her horse's neck as she looked at the truck. Storm Par. Tye name didn't tell her as much as she wanted it to. "Come on, Gambler." She tensed her leg against the horse's side and walked him towards the barn.
It was late, so late that she knew her mother would be furious with her. Her sister was always the good one, the one with high expectations placed on her shoulders. Expectations that she'd exceeded.
Jumping from Gamblers saddle, she walked him into the barn and did everything she needed to do. Untacked him, fed him, made sure the little makeshift stable was clean and he had enough food and water for the night.
They got a small corner of the barn. The rest of it was full of Kate's stuff. She couldn't be mad about that, not when Kate's stuff was so cool. But it also served as a grim reminded that she wasn't there, and hadn't been for years.
Shutting the barn for the night, she made her way back to the house. Storm Par, she'd seen that truck somewhere before, she just couldn't put her finger on it. She tried to look in the truck, but it was too dark to see anything.
She made her way inside of the house, toed off her dirty boots and dropped her keys in the bowl. Shrugging off her jacket, she hung it over the banister and made her way to the kitchen.
Her stomach made a desperate noise as she looked in the fridge for the leftovers. "I know, I know," she mumbled to herself, setting about heating it up.
Footsteps, on the stairs. "Mom?" She called over her shoulder. "Sorry I'm late, we lost track of time."
The person didn't respond as she stirred the leftovers in the pan to heat it up. When she turned around, her breath caught in her throat.
There stood her sister. Kate, the good one, the smart one, the one that had disappeared to New York. "Holy shit," she breathed as she looked at her. "Holy fuckin' shit."
"Hi," Kate said and swallowed.
She'd imagined this moment several times, what it would be like to be reunited with Kate. Had imagined running into her arms and holding her so tight that she couldn't leave again.
But, now that they were here, she was at a loss. It didn't feel right to embrace Kate in such a dramatic fashion, didn't feel right to do anything but just look at her.
She turned and stirred the leftovers in the pan. "What're you doing back?" She asked as she began to plate it up.
Kate shrugged her shoulders. "I was nearby," she said and sat at the kitchen table, sat in the seat opposite her. "Were you out with Gambler?"
She nodded as she ate.
No, it isn't bad writing, the conversation was stale. The sisters didn't quite know what so say to each other. Where had they left off when Kate disappeared? Why had she left them behind?
She didn't mean to resent her sister for getting out, for leaving her behind. Their mother had been so distraught when Kate left for New York, but she understood why. She still had her other daughter there. Her other daughter who wanted to leave, who wanted to travel across the country and make a life for herself.
Clearing her throat, she stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow," she mumbled and took her food up to her room. Kate wasn't blonde the last time she saw her. But that seemed to be the only difference.
She looked out of her window, looked at the Storm Par truck in the drive. It must have been Kate's truck, she decided and sat at her computer.
It was so easy to find information on Storm Par. To find out who they were, to find out what they did. The what wasn't important, and the who was only kind of important. It was the why that she cared about. And, when she found that out, why the hell would Kate work for a company like this?
A sour feeling settled in her stomach as she went to bed that night.
***
"Someone's feeling fresh," she mumbled as she walked Gambler forward. But Gambler didn't want to walk; he wanted to go.
She turned him in a sharp circle, since holding him back wasn't doing anything to stop him from taking off. "You wanna run, Gamble?" She challenged, walking him to the end of the drive. He was practically galloping on the spot.
When they get to the wide open field in front of them, she let him go. Gambler went. He galloped, snorting as he went. She held the mane and let him run until he got to the other end of the field. At the other end of the field, she got Gambler back under control and began walking him back to the house. Halfway across the field, she pushed him into a nice, controlled canter.
An unfamiliar red truck was parked in the driveway, parked beside the Storm Par truck. She squeezed on the reins, slowed Gambler down as she watched the guy climb out of the red truck. The cowboy hat on his head looked performative as he placed it back in his truck.
"Can I help you?" She asked as she walked Gambler over to him.
He was gorgeous. His charm was written in smile as he looked around at her home. Upon seeing her, his charming smile dropped from his face. "Uh, yeah," he said and turned again. "Is Kate here?" He asked.
She blew out a breath and gestured for him to follow her. He did, walking a good distance behind Gambler. "Are you with Storm Par as well?" She asked as she rode, the reins in one hand and her other hand resting on her thigh.
To Tyler, she looked all the bit the cowgirl. He knew cowgirls, he was an ex rodeo man, after all. This was the kind of girl he would have chased after before he went to study meteorology. "No," he said, that charming smile slowly reappearing on his face. "I do chase, though."
"Ah," she said as she jumped from the saddle and grabbed a hold of the reins. "You're one of those freaks." It was said completely in jest, the tone of her voice suggested. She pushed open the barn doors and led Tyler inside. "Kate," she called across the barn. "Someone here for you."
Tyler watched as she took her horse to the little stable in the back of the barn. And then he turned his attention to Kate.
All the time she was in the barn, Tyler couldn't help but look at her. She had a Stetson hanging off the stable door as she gave her horse a bath. It shouldn't have been distracting but, to Tyler, it was. She was just cleaning her horse, massaging the purple shampoo into his grey coat.
Every time Kate caught him staring, Tyler had the decency to quickly look away. But Kate just grinned at him and told him her name. "She's my sister," she said quietly.
He didn't expected to get invited to dinner. "You should," said Kate as she looked further into the barn. "She's cooking." Tyler looked back at her as she grabbed a black bucket and filled it with horse food.
Her cooking was incredible. She wore her Stetson as she brought the food to the table outside. Kate set the table as she placed an array of food on the middle of the table.
"Thank you, cowgirl," said Tyler as she placed the salad down in front of him.
Her cheeks were so hot as she sat in the seat opposite him. "Don't mention it," she muttered and began plating everything up.
It was easy not to look at her when her mother was asking him so many questions, questions he was happy to answer. But she hadn't stopped looking at him. Feeling like a creep, she tried to stay focused on her dinner. But his voice. Fuck, it was something else.
"What about you?"
She hadn't even realised he was talking to her. With her mouth full, she looked up at him. "What?" She asked around the food in her mouth.
"Do you like storms?"
It probably wouldn't have been such an odd question if she had been paying attention to the conversation. She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, they're pretty. But you wouldn't catch me dead outside in one."
Tyler's entire focus was on her, as if he'd forgotten her mother and Kate were there. "I bet I could change your mind," he said, voice full of confidence.
She took the challenge, copied his pose as she leaned towards him. "Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that?" She tried to copy the expression on his face, the charming grin he had so easily mastered.
He sat back in his seat and looked towards his truck. "You'll see, Cowgirl."
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jaewritesfic · 3 months ago
Text
Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3
Parts 1 and 2
They both fall silent and stare. 
That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?
Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.
“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”
Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.
Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”
Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”
Jesus Christ.
Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.
Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.
It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.
“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.
The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”
“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.
Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.
“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”
Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.
His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.
“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”
When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.
“Please, Danny. We miss you.”
Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”
“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.
Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 
His nails are black and green. Gradient.
Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.
“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.
Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.
“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.
Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”
“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”
Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.
“Okay, dick.”
It's like they never parted at all for a moment.
“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”
Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”
“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.
The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 
He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”
Part 4
Masterpost
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smokesandsonatas · 3 months ago
Text
Twisted Wonderland but make it grounded in dark reality. I drafted this around late 2023 and I just finished this now, haha. As always read at your own discretion and enjoy!
Warnings: Implied cannibalism. Dread.
Characters: Floyd and Jade, Leona, Ruggie, Rook, Idia, Lillia, Malleus, Others.
Not beta read.
Food.
- Any substance consumed by an organism for nutritional support. A means for survival.
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You’ve always known most of them are peculiar creatures. Sharp teeth, mismatched eyes, monstrous forms, fins that glint with predatory sharpness, and horns that pierce the sky with arrogant pride. They embody the villains from the old fairy tales back in your world, grotesque and terrifying in equal measure. You suppose they function like civilized beings—they’ve learned to blend into human society, after all—but you can’t help but notice just how different, how unnervingly similar, they are to one thing: food.
The dishes at this college are like nothing you've ever tasted. Perhaps it's because many of them are children of royalty, so even the cafeteria food tastes like something out of a king's banquet. The pickiness of their palates is evident in every bite, in every carefully crafted dish. But there are things you find more intriguing than their refined taste; something almost hypnotic about the way they eat, especially when they don't mind you watching.
The scent of something delicious invaded Ramshackle Dorm in the dead of night. You assumed Grim was cooking, as ridiculous as that sounded, but found the little gremlin snoozing soundly beside you. Maybe it was the ghosts? But as you descended the stairs, you found the kitchen empty, devoid of any culinary activity. One glance at the night sky over Sage’s Island told you it was around 3 AM—far too early for breakfast, and far too late for dinner.
You tried to go back to sleep, but the tantalizing scent of roasted meat kept you awake, gnawing at your resolve until you could no longer ignore the hunger pangs twisting your stomach. Leaving Grim behind, you draped the sheets over his body, muttering a promise to return soon. Your curiosity and hunger led you to the cafeteria, which should have been deserted at this hour, but to your surprise…
They were all there. The ones you’ve grown closest to.
They were gathered around a long, elegant table, the atmosphere eerily reminiscent of Mostro Lounge—dim lights casting soft, ominous shadows across their faces. The table was laden with exquisite, expensive cuts of meat, arranged in a feast fit for monsters. And in the center of it all, a massive stack of roasted meat commanded your attention.
It looked…perfect. The tenderloin, you assumed, was butter-soft, with a thick, moist cut that bled a light pink from the center. The outer layer was roasted to a flawless crisp. But something about the presentation unnerved you, a chill creeping up your spine.
The pile of meat looked too much like the carcass of a person. Or a beast, perhaps. It was hard to tell. But you could almost see the outline of a body, as though someone—someone about five or six feet tall—had been subjected to the furnace’s extreme heat, roasted beyond recognition. Was that hair you saw near what should have been the head? Before you could inspect further, a voice called out to you.
"Ah! You're here! Come and join us, Shrimpy!" Floyd’s voice rang out, cheerful and disturbingly eager. His sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, rows of jagged edges that could tear through flesh with ease. Beside him, Jade chuckled, slicing into a slab of meat with surgical precision, the knife gliding through like it was cutting butter.
Your eyes scanned the gathering. At the head of the table sat Tsunotaro—Malleus, the prince of fae. You frowned, under the impression that he usually is not invited in gatherings like this. But he nodded at you, a small, regal acknowledgment. “I was invited by Lilia,” he explained, his voice low and melodic. You glanced at his plate—a half-eaten steak submerged in a thick, red sauce. The metallic, almost fishy scent wafted up, assaulting your senses.
Before you could react, Lilia appeared beside you, his small hand guiding you to a seat. His right hand held a wine glass filled with a creamy red liquid that clung to the inside of the chalice. You tried to dismiss the fact that it looked too much like blood—thick, viscous blood. Surely, wine wasn’t supposed to look like that, but who were you to judge?
“Bonjour, Trickster! ~” Rook’s voice whispered in your ear, and when you turned, you were met with a sight that made your stomach turn. The smell hit you first—foul, putrid, like a freshly killed animal left to rot. It was too strong, the copper and iron scent so overpowering you had to fight to keep your expression neutral.
You hope your face does not betray the constriction of your throat.
“Rook,” you managed to say, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise. “What…uhm, what is that?”
Rook laughed, the sound as sharp as the glint in his eyes. “Liver pâté, my dear,” he said, twirling his fork. “If it’s a strong scent, I apologize. It’s from the raw liver I like to eat with the liver pâté.”
Raw…
You tried to ignore the word. Back in your world, people ate raw food—sushi, for instance. So whatever Rook had on his plate was none of your business. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself.
“Shishishi, the food is sure delicious, especially when I’m getting it for free!” A voice cackled, startling you. You almost jumped out of your seat at the sight of Ruggie, devouring his meal with a voracious appetite. His sharp teeth ripped through the flesh with ease, tearing the meat from the bone in one swift motion. Red droplets—blood?—splattered across his chin, and you watched in horror as his tongue darted out to lick it clean.
“Oi, Ruggie, have some manners,” Leona growled from beside him, his voice gruff and annoyed. He wasn’t eating, his plate already littered with bones, but he was sipping from a glass filled with a red liquid. You wanted to believe it was wine, but the scent…The scent was as repugnant as the raw liver on Rook’s plate. It was metallic, nauseating
—blood.
A shiver trickled down your spine.
That same scent wafted from Malleus and Lilia’s glasses, clinging to the air like a dark cloud.
“You’re one to talk!” Ruggie retorted, his mouth full of meat. “You’ve never eaten a rat before, Leona-san.”
You blinked. Did you hear him right?
Your train of thought was interrupted by Malleus’s voice from your left.
“Shroud,” the prince of fae said, his tone commanding yet gentle, “drink this and replenish your energy.” You watched as Malleus offered Idia the same drink he was consuming. And to your shock, Idia accepted, his expression one of reluctance.
“I don’t really mind drinking this stuff, but I just don’t like eating much…” The Ignihyde dorm leader mumbled, his voice trailing off. You glanced at his plate—a barely touched piece of ‘steak’ with a small cut in the corner, oozing something you didn’t want to identify.
You could barely breathe as you watched Idia reluctantly take a sip of the viscous liquid from Malleus's chalice. His face remained as pale as ever, though a faint hint of color touched his cheeks. The sight was unsettling, and you couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of dread tightening around your chest.
"Not a fan of solid food?" Jade's voice slithered into your thoughts, pulling you from the trance. His mismatched eyes glinted in the dim light as he calmly sliced through his portion of meat, each movement precise and almost too graceful. "It's an acquired taste," he continued, offering you a smile that somehow did nothing to ease your growing anxiety.
Your gaze shifted to the plate in front of you, untouched and ominously inviting. The stack of meat in the center of the table loomed like a dark specter, its presence a constant reminder of the unease gnawing at your mind. You felt a pressure to partake, to show your acceptance of their world, but every fiber of your being screamed against it.
"Come now," Lilia's playful voice broke through the tension, "you should try it at least once. After all, it's not every day you get to dine with such esteemed company." He winked, the gesture meant to be comforting, but it only made you more wary.
You glanced around the table, noting the expectant gazes directed your way. Floyd’s sharp grin was still fixed on you, his eyes gleaming with mischief, while Ruggie gnawed contentedly on his bone, seemingly oblivious to the tension. Rook, watched you with a keen interest, his fork poised elegantly in his hand.
Leona’s gaze was the most unsettling, though. His amber eyes were half-lidded, seemingly bored, yet there was an intensity in them that made you feel like prey. His fingers drummed lazily on the table, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight curl of his lips, as if he was waiting for you to make a move.
Your gaze drifted across the table, stomach churning with a mix of disgust and dread. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance across their faces—no, across their true forms. You blinked, the image wavering as if your mind was trying to shield you from something it wasn’t ready to comprehend.
Floyd’s laughter echoed, a sound that grated against your nerves. For a split second, you saw something else—an elongated, sinuous form, slick with scales, teeth sharper than any blade, rows upon rows of them, stretching endlessly down a gaping maw that promised nothing but pain. You shuddered, the image vanishing as quickly as it appeared, leaving you staring at the harmless, smiling face of the boy who once called you Shrimpy. Jade is no better. You can see the muscles bulging as his back turns, with sharp rows of fins scattered along his spine. If you were behind him right now, you’re certain he would cut you in half.
Your eyes flicked to Ruggie, who was gnawing on the bone of his meal with unabashed relish. But in the periphery of your vision, his form distorted—muscles rippling beneath fur that was too thick, claws that scraped against the table, and a maw that was too wide, too hungry, filled with jagged fangs meant for tearing, ripping, devouring. He glanced up, catching your gaze, and you quickly looked away, the image of the beast-man fading back into the all-too-familiar figure of a mischievous boy. Leona on the other hand, sit still. The image of a lion assessing it's prey. You dare not look at his eyes burning holes through your skull—you feel it.
Idia, who sits apart from the others, his presence a dark shadow at the table. There’s something about him that feels different, even among these monsters. His connection to the underworld is undeniable, a guardian of the boundary between life and death. The flickering blue flames of his hair and the way his eyes pierce through the darkness suggest something far older and more terrifying than any of the others—a being who has seen what lies beyond the veil, and who has perhaps brought a piece of it back with him.
Rook, you cannot even begin to comprehend how a human—like yourself, is able to blend in with them.
But the worst was Malleus. The prince of the fae was calm, serene even, but there was something wrong—horribly wrong. His eyes glowed too brightly, their green hue pulsating with an otherworldly light. And then, for just a moment, you saw what lay beneath that regal facade—a towering figure, wings that stretched endlessly, blotting out the sky, horns that twisted and curled like a crown of dark thorns. His smile was too sharp, too knowing, as if he could see right through you, into the very depths of your soul.
You closed your eyes, refusing to look at anyone anymore.
You tried to swallow your saliva, but your throat was dry, your mouth parched. The air was thick with the scent of blood, the tang of iron clinging to your tongue. They were all looking at you now, waiting, expecting you to take a bite, to join them in this feast.
Lilia’s voice broke the silence, light and playful as ever. “Come now, dear. Don’t be shy. You wouldn’t want to insult your hosts, would you?”
The pressure was unbearable, the weight of their gazes pressing down on you, suffocating you. Your hand trembled as you reached for the fork, the silver glinting in the low light. You knew, deep down, that whatever you saw—whatever you thought you saw—a no mere trick of the light.
They were not like you. They were never like you.
"I," you hope your voice does not shake, "I am full." You nodded, convincing them. You let out a nervous laugh, quickly standing up as you find the place too suffocating. Chair scraping the floor. "I'm fine! Really, I—ah, I need to go back, I have to catch some sleep and Grim is alone."
Floyd is quick to be by your side. His smile, wide and filled with sharp teeth, is unsettling. "Eh, Shrimpy, do you not like the food?" He asks, worry in his voice. You know it's fake: he's mocking you.
"I am good," you say with a strained smile. Please let me go, please, please—
"I insist," Malleus interjects, his voice smooth but commanding. "This is a feast meant for sharing. It would be rude to leave before sampling a morsel."
As if on cue, the others start to close in. Rook leans in closer, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement. "The flavors are truly exquisite, you know. Not something one should miss out on."
Leona’s gaze is heavy and piercing, his voice low and rumbling. "I’ve seen your kind turn down more robust fare than this. Surely you can handle a small bite."
Your attempts to excuse yourself only seem to stoke their interest further. The way they move, their unnervingly smooth motions, reminds you of predators circling their prey.
You might just be one tonight.
Floyd’s grin widens as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Come on, Shrimpy. Just a taste. I promise it won’t hurt."
The pressure is mounting. They are pushing you to stay, to partake in their feast, and the atmosphere thickens with their silent insistence. Malleus’s eyes bore into you with a knowing gaze, his hand extending with a glass of the viscous red liquid. "Just a sip, if you please."
Every attempt to excuse yourself only seems to make their eyes narrow further, their smiles widen just a little more. The eerie calm of the feast surrounds you.
It is when you see the meat properly that you made up your mind to escape. It is in someone's plate, you do not know who.
It's in the shape of a finger. A charred fingernail dipped in red.
Floyd let out a yelp as you finally push him off of you, your steps quickening as you trace back where you came from: The path to Ramshackle dorm.
You heard Jade reprimand Floyd, the latter angry when you pushed him: How dare you Shrimpy was all you heard before you were out of their sight and you're running back, panting, to your safe space, Ramshackle.
Only to pause as Crowley stands in the steps of your door. His mask drowning the glint of yellow from holes that was supposed to be his eyes.
What... what the fuck.
Crowley approached you slowly, as if he's reaching out to a wounded prey, this is the first time you've ever seen him serious. You take a step back, should you run in the other direction? Where will you escape, Heartslabyul? Will they take you in there?
The headmaster let out a sigh, "My students here at Night Raven should perhaps know kindness from their teacher," he declared dramatically. Then he gave you pouch, full of madol. Thaumarks.
This is a bribe. Crowley is bribing you.
"Our little secret, alright?"
You blinked. What...?
"A little compensation for your troubles, for I am truly kind."
He then disappear, leaving you stunned.
At exactly 3:33 AM, a realization hit you. You are in the company of creatures far more dangerous than you ever imagined, their monstrous forms hidden just beneath the surface. One wrong step, one mistake, it can all come down. Crumbling to pieces.
It is inside when your knees give out, you slide through the door of the Ramshackle, too weak to stand anymore.
This is the truth: you are in the company of creatures mimicking humans, their monstrous forms hidden just beneath the normal exterior. But what terrifies you most is not the thought of what they are—but the thought that, perhaps, they see you as something less than human too.
The truth of what they were—what they really were—lurked just out of reach, like a shadow at the corner of your vision, waiting to pounce the moment you let your guard down.
But you knew better. Something had changed.
And as you sit there, the only protection you have are rotting woods that make up your dorm. You are just within the circle of monstrous beings in their friendly human skins. You are a magic-less, pathetic alien.
For in a world filled with monsters hiding in plain sight, the only question that remained was this:
What would happen when they decided they were tired of pretending?
Perhaps you will find out soon.
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wolken-himmel · 1 year ago
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In which (Y/n) finds a doll that bears a strange resemblance to Vil. The two enjoy some tea until Ace and Deuce show up to cause some ruckus.
The doll turns out to be the real Vil when (Y/n) accidentally kisses it.
Requested by @akemiozawa.
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"(Y/n)? What are you doing?"
You turned your gaze to the door of the Ramshackle living door as if you had been caught red-handed at the crime scene. Your eyes fell on none other than Ace and Deuce, whose gazes were trained at the blond doll seated across from you. They continued to stare at the two cups of tea on the coffee table, a steaming pot in between them.
"Having afternoon tea with my friend," you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Ignoring their presence, you took another sip from your cup.
Ace stared at the doll owlishly, then he broke out into laughter. "That's a doll, (Y/n)," he wheezed and almost doubled over.
"Shut up," you said with a roll of your eyes. "Don't hurt Vil's feelings like that."
Your words prompted the most confusion-laced gaze you had ever received from Deuce. "I hate to break it to you, (Y/n). But that's not Vil. That's a doll." The blue-haired boy hesitated for a moment as his eyes scanned the doll curiously. He quirked an eyebrow in realisation. "Although... that doll does look a lot like Vil. Did you make it yourself?"
The doll possessed the same brilliant blond hair with purplish tips that the Pomefiore dorm leader was known for. And its eyes were a soft lavender hue, too. But what was most unnerving was the way the doll carried itself: It possessed the same confidence and elegance that Vil himself exuded. Shoulders not slouched at all and with its chin raised high, the doll seemed to look down upon Ace and Deuce.
"I found the doll in one of the classrooms," you explained fondly. "And since Vil is too busy to spend time with me like always, I've decided to entertain myself with this mini-version of him. He has quite grown on me. So adorable and soft!"
"I've always found dolls creepy..." Deuce began to shudder, averting his gaze from the doll.
Slowly but surely, Ace's lips morphed into a smug grin. The red-head crossed his arms and began snickering. "You take better care of that doll than of Grim."
"That's not true!" An offended huff escaped your lips. "I just sometimes need a break from Grim," you murmured under your breath. Then you took another sip from your cup, planning to ignore the two troublemakers for now. You still had hopes to have a lovely time with the doll Vil.
Yet your plans were thrown out of the window when Ace suddenly let out a frightened shriek. "Ew! The doll just bit me!" he yelled in fear and, unable to stop his reflexes, threw the doll at the wall.
An unimpressed frown appeared on Deuce's face as he watched his scared friend. "Dolls can't bite, Ace..."
"No, really. It bit me," Ace insisted, trembling. "Are you sure it's just a regular doll, (Y/n)?"
"Now that you say it, Ace... The doll does emit a strange aura of magic," his blue-haired friend muttered after a while.
The doll lay motionlessly on the ground after having been thrown at the wall. Although it faced the ground, the doll seemed to be at least in one piece and without any other notable damage. You immediately rushed over to the doll and picked it up into your arms like a worried mother hen.
"Stop throwing around my little boy like that!" you yelled at the two Heartslabyul students. Meanwhile, you cradled the doll in your arms. "Come now, Vil. You're okay. I'll protect you."
"Stop coddling that cursed doll!" Ace sneered, trying to hide his fear.
A soft sigh escaped your lips while you ran your fingers through the doll's silky hair. Within a few seconds, the doll looked like new. But still, its expression seemed to have morphed into an angry scowl when before, it was a confident smile. "Did your face hit the wall when Ace threw you?" you asked as you noticed the doll's sour expression. "My poor baby, come on... I'll kiss it better..."
You carefully brought the doll to your eye-level. Your two friends were about to call you a freak for kissing a doll, but as your lips made contact with the porcelain of the doll, you felt its small body shift and twist into something else. Your lungs constricted when a puff of violet smoke filled the living room of the Ramshackle dorm. Violent coughs escaped your lips.
A round of gasps echoed around the room once the smoke had cleared up. You three first-years couldn't help but stare at the tall blond male standing there in all his glory. His hands rested on his hips as he stared down the two Heartslabyul students, blaming them for the red bruise on his forehead.
"Vil?!" you three cried out in unison.
Ace let out a cheer despite the precarious situation he was stuck in. "Hah! I knew the doll was cursed."
Embarrassment heated up your cheeks, and you couldn't help but avert your gaze to the ground. All the hours you had spent cuddling the doll and taking care of it, he seemed to remember. You gulped, unable to face Vil. "You... were that doll?"
"What were you thinking, throwing me around like a rag doll, potato?" Vil hissed out like a venomous snake that was about to devour Ace.
"I didn't know it was you! You were a rag doll literally!"
Deuce still couldn't even begin to understand the situation. His eyes kept darting between the three other inhabitants of the room. "How did this even happen?"
Vil let out a sigh, but his frown lessened when you brought him a pack of ice. His long fingers pressed the soothing coldness to his bruised forehead. "I don't know. Epel must have slipped something into my water to get away again. I never realised he was capable to something this potent though... I am quite proud of him," he explained and sat down in the chair the doll had previously occupied.
"Uhm... But I hope you still enjoyed the tea time, Vil..." A nervous smile graced your lips as you finally managed to summon the courage to look him in the eyes.
A little chuckle escaped the dorm leader's lips. "I did, dear. We shall repeat this again some time. It was quite nice to be forced to take a break from my hectic schedule." He took a sip from his previously untouched cup of tea. His tense muscles relaxed immediately. "Your presence is quite soothing, I must admit. Everything was okay until these two potatoes showed up."
"Hey! You bit me!" Ace huffed in dismay.
The room suddenly grew cold when Vil cleared his throat threateningly. "Perhaps I should turn you two into dolls and throw you around, too?" the Pomefiore dorm leader asked coldly.
"Vil, it's okay," you whispered and placed your hand on his arm. "Stress isn't good for your skin, remember?"
At your words, Vil's apprehension towards your friends seemed to die down. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his shoulders tiredly. "Fine, potato. But only because it's you. Now, I'd like more tea, please."
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pomefioredove · 7 months ago
Note
You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!
this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!
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summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god
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"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.
He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.
He's supposed to be an actor, after all.
That's what this is all about.
"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."
Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.
Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.
What a bitter sentiment.
"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"
A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.
His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"
A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.
He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.
You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.
You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.
It hurts.
Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?
There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.
This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.
And you'd always known it.
---
How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?
Short answer: you can't.
You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.
Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.
On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.
Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.
People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?
It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.
Even Grim was keeping his distance.
What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...
You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.
"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."
He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.
Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."
"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."
You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"
"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."
Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.
"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.
"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"
Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"
"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.
"We didn't mean-"
"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.
"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."
---
There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.
Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.
It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.
But, not today.
You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.
You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.
You, however, are the only one in the room.
"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.
Beautiful,
A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.
Yours truly.
"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.
"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.
He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"
You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.
"But what-"
"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."
Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.
"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.
"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."
You can only stare back. "Rook..."
"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"
You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...
He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.
If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.
You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"
Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.
"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"
---
Pomefiore is beautiful again.
There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.
He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.
You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.
Perhaps it's for the better.
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themore12 · 5 months ago
Text
The First-years sleepover!
Now that the Onboro dorm had been renovated and cleaned and everything, Ace decided to take advantage of that and have a sleepover there with the other 1st years!
Word count: 1092 words
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yo, Prefect!"
You sighed as you heard the ever-so-familiar voice behind you.
You turned to the nearest person beside you who so happened to be Dorm leader Vil Schoenheit, and tried to hide from the troublemakers behind you.
With a hint of exhaustion, you asked for a small favor from the worldwide model. "Hide me Vil...please I just want a moment of peace."
With a raised brow and an amused smile on his lips, he glanced at the one-brain cell trio, who were arguing as they made their way towards you. "I'm afraid they are already making their way here Prefect."
You can only sigh as you catch sight of the familiar red and blue-haired duo in the corner of your eye.
(more under the cut)
-------------------------------------------
You already knew Ace would suggest troublesome with how he smiled at you.
"Prefect, we should sleep over at your dorm." (Ace) (events after book 7)
"Don't we do that every now and then already?" (Deuce)
With an annoyed smile, he continued, "Now that it's been renovated and all!" (Ace)
Before you could even begin to say anything, Grim said what you had in mind.
"Why would me and my henchman want you two in our dorm, each time you guys stay there our dorm gets wrecked!" (Grim)
"It only happened a few times!" (Ace)
"It shouldn't have happened in the first place?!" (Yuu)
In the end, you could only watch helplessly as they barged into the Onboro dorm with snacks at hand, a Happy Epel, and a Jack.
You sighed, "You didn't drag Epel and Jack here without their dorm leaders not knowing, right?" With that, the red and blue-haired troublemakers stopped in their tracks.
"..."
You can only sigh yet again, as words can't seem to convey the migraines that are starting to form in your head.
------------------------
"I'm sorry Yuu..."
"It isn't your fault Deuce, I know Ace is the mastermind behind all of this."
"Hey! I'm right here!"
------------------------
Without noticing it, the sun has begun to slowly disappear from the horizon and the moon from earlier seemingly becomes brighter as time passes by.
"Ace, Deuce, Grim, stop trying to kill each other."
"Epel and Jack can you help me set the table up?"
After a look at your annoyed expression, the three troublemakers raised their arms in defeat and (with a bit of guilt -Deuce) silently walked towards the dining table and sat quietly as they waited for the food.
Knowing that they might cause more trouble if they tried to help.
------------------------
"Jack, could you please pass the salt?"
"THAT'S MINE!"
"I SAW IT FIRST!"
"Here Yuu."
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
"Thanks."
-----------------------
After deciding who washes the dishes with Rock paper scissors, after an intense match between Epel and Ace, the loser (Ace) begrudgingly lurched to the kitchen.
Feeling bad, you decided to stay in the kitchen while he watched the dishes.
You might feel bad, but you're not that kind to take do his task for him.
The others, seeing you stay in the kitchen to provide moral support to their dishwasher, decided to join your little pity party.
"Since when have you guys been this nice..." (Ace)
"If Yuu wasn't here we wouldn't have stayed here." (Deuce)
*Nods along* (Grim, Epel, and Jack)
----------------------
Grim the ever-competitive raccoon suggested playing something in the Wonder Link, sponsored by Idia.
"I bet I could score higher than you guys in Star Rouge!"
"Oh you're on, you talking raccoon!" (Ace)
"I'm not a raccoon!" (Grim)
Grim lost 2 times in a row.
"Fngha, Henchman! Win for me!"
You won those 2 losses back.
"Stop acting as if you won." (Jack)
"We count as one student, so I can say I won!" (Grim)
"That's not how that works..." (Epel)
"I can't hear losers!" (Grim)
"...YA WANNA GO, YOU EGG-SUCKIN' RACCOON?!" (Epel)
----------------------
"From what I heard you have 10 steps to do before you sleep in Pomifiore?"
"Yeah..." With a seemingly heavy heart, he sighed after he answered. "Don't get me started in our morning routine..."
----------------------
As you were gossiping with the others, until sudden loud knocks and a familiarly loud voice yelled out. "Human!" Catching the other's attention with his ever-so-loud voice.
"Isn't that Sebek?"
"HUMAN!"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's Sebek."
With a sigh, you decided to drag your tired body to the front door. "yow, what do you need Sebek?"
----------------------
Long story short, he was tricked by Lilia to be part of the pajama party.
----------------------
"Ace you cheating!-" (Epel)
"BAHAHHAHAHHAHA" (Ace)
----------------------
"What is Wonder Link?" (Sebek)
"I honestly don't know too, man." (Yuu)
"I think it's something you can play games in?" (Jack)
---
(Literally in front of them)
"It's like our parents watching us, trying to understand what we're doing." (Ace)
(Glances behind them) "Yeah lol." (Epel)
----------------------
"Epel, calm down!" (Deuce)
"GRAHHHHH!" (Epel)
----------------------
After everyone joined Epel with his skincare routine(bonding), everybody seemed to have lost all their adrenaline from gaming earlier.
With the moon high up in the sky, almost all the first years seemed to have tired themselves out, since some of them had even passed out in the living room with their bodies littering the floor. Seemingly not caring how they are literally on the floor.
"Jack, can you help me carry them to their beds?" You asked as you pointed to the two passed-out idiots on the floor as you hoisted Grim up, making him grumble a little but after readjusting himself in your arms he continued to sleep like a log.
Jack nodded as he tried to keep his eyes open, seemingly a bit sleepy after all the trouble his friends made him go through.
"If you're tired, just let them lay on the couches." You said as you chuckled at him shaking his head and following you to their rooms.
"Thank you, Jack."
You covered Grim's ears as you shouted for the other two who were barely awake at this point. "Epel! Sebek!"
You hear a very weak "Yeah?" from Epel as he lies on the couch with no energy left in his body,
"Come on, you guys have rooms."
"Coming..."
------------------------------
After what felt like an eternity (for them) all of them have finally gone to their respective rooms in the Onboro dorm.
"Thank you, Prefect..." You hear Epel mumble before he crashes onto his bed.
"Goodnight Prefect..." You hear Ace mumble as he subtly tries to drag you down onto his bed with him.
"Thanks, Prefect" You hear Deuce weakly mumble as he buries his head onto the pillow.
"Thank you and goodnight, Prefect." Jack said before he nodded and closed his door.
"I appreciate you for letting me in...Prefect." Sebek said although you could barely make out what he said at the end before he closed the door on you.
================================================
"I can't believe I hang out with these losers."
"But at least they're your losers!"
You glanced at the mirror in your room as you set Grim down who grumbled and reached out for you.
"You're right, they're the best losers I never asked for."
"Goodnight Mickey."
================================================
The dorm leaders honest reaction to the sleepover:
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Authors note: Its been weeks when will i ever post this?
AUTHORS NOTE 2: not proofread at all.
AUTHORS NOTE 3: ITS A BIT RUSHED BECAUSE ITS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG NOW LMAO, ITS MY COMEBACK I THINK.
Authors note 4: reblogs and comments are appreciated ehe
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dumpywrites · 6 months ago
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Adrift - Min Yoongi / Suga
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Prompt: He only comes to sleep with you and you accept because your heart allows you to.
Prompt request: HERE
Genre/tags: Angst (with happy ending), slight mentions of smut, friends to friends with benefits to lovers
Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader
a/n: this was very very very lowkey inspired by real life situation, don't ask me lol
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The joy of making breakfast, or not. Carefully plating the pancakes you made, drizzling them with maple syrup, adding some blueberries from the fridge. The sight of two delicious pancakes in two separate plates should not irritate you this much. The matching cups of drinks, one with milk in it, one with black coffee. 
Making food at ten in the morning should not be this grim, but here you were, holding yourself together just at the thought of the person who would soon join you at the table. 
The sound of the bathroom faucet turning off and the light button being pressed made you look. 
There he was. The man you were so madly in love with. His dreamy black locks wet, small droplets fell down on the floor and he for sure would get an earful for walking straight to the dining table while still dripping with water from his hair. Or maybe not, you were too busy ogling at his bare upper body, nothing you had never seen, but would always made your jaw drop. With a small towel in his hand and that one sweatpants that he always left on your place on purpose covering his lower body, he slowly made his way towards you.
“Pancakes again?”
“You better not complain.” You rolled your eyes, which earned a smirk from the guy. 
“I love pancakes.” He simply said, sitting down and putting the towel around his neck so the water from his hair would not drip down. “Especially yours.”
“Cause it’s free, just say it.” You rolled your eyes again and sat down across the guy who had a huge smirk on his face. 
The man simply shrugged and proceeded to take a bite of the food. Technically, he did not deny it. 
You both ate in silence. It had been somewhat accustomed to you. Instead of bantering and sharing stories when you hangout, breakfast was a peaceful moment for both of you. Although, little did he know, you mostly spent it with him occupying your mind. 
What started as a joke ended up as a habit for the past three months. This was definitely not what you had in mind when you said yes to his silly claim that he could make anyone release in mere three minutes. You were suppose to just see if you could crush his ego. One night he just showed up looking absolutely hotter than he usually did on your doorstep. One thing led to another, you ended up with his face right in between your thighs. 
It started with just him coming to you, and he would sometimes finger you in between watching Netflix, or eat you out as you laid your head back against your pink Squishmallow. To then you returning the favor under the desk as he work. Before you knew it, you two had started fucking each other’s brains out on the daily.
This was not suppose to happen. Yoongi was supposed to be one of your closest friends. You both came from the same circle and none of them knew yet about the odd thing that had been going on between the two of you. 
It was only natural to hide it. You both agreed that it’d be super awkward if the rest of the guys knew about your so-called experiment. Although it was hard to behave like how you would normally act, you both managed to hide it for the past few months. While you, managed to hide your feelings for him for a month and a half so far. 
Didn’t matter though. You knew Yoongi could never see you as a potential lover. He had told you multiple times how career driven he was and how he could barely take care of himself. Therefore, there was no room for romance in his life, and you respected that.
Today marked as your second week of trying to tell Yoongi to put an end to whatever the hell that was going on between you and him. It was getting unhealthy, especially for you. Either you told him your feelings and end on a sour note, or the option you preferred, just straight up telling him that you were not feeling it anymore. It sounded easier and simpler, you were sure he’d understand. 
You just needed to stop him at your front door before he started grabbing you and shower you with sloppy kisses. 
It was easier said than done when your heart literally was on his side. 
“Jin’s birthday’s next week.” Yoongi suddenly said, breaking your daydream. “Are you coming?”
“I don’t know… don’t really have anything fancy to wear.” You shrugged. 
“Just wear whatever you think looks pretty, it’s just Jin. I’m sure his family won’t mind.” 
“I still don’t get why he suddenly wants to celebrate his birthday at a five-star hotel.” 
“I heard he just got promoted and his pay is now doubled.” The man said after he sipped his coffee. 
“That explains it.” You rolled your eyes. “Well, lucky him? But I still don’t have anything to wear…” You sighed. 
“I like that one dress you wore in your Instagram story…”
“Huh?” Your head jerked up at the sentence. Yoongi’s eyes weren’t focused on yours though. “The backless one?”
“Yeah.” He said with a blank expression. 
“That’s too short! Yoongi, his parents are gonna be there, you know.” You complained. 
“Why did you wear it before then?”
“I was in Bali for a holiday.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ll just show up in a dress shirt or something…”
Yoongi just answered with his mouth turning like an upside-down U and shrugged. 
Fifteen minutes after finishing the food, you both washed the dishes together, before he left for some work calling.
Once again you were alone with your thoughts. In fact, you were left with your thoughts for a few days before a text popped up from him again, as what you had expected. It was already a habit. 
It was exactly two at night and a day before Jin’s birthday celebration. Yoongi had just came back from some afterparty you did not bother to ask. You would be stupid to just open your door and let him in at this point. And yes, you were in fact simply that stupid. 
“Hey.” The guy casually said, placing his shoes on your rack, where he already had a designated spot. 
“Hey you.” You replied monotonously. 
Raising one of his eyebrows at you, he crooked his head to the side. “Something happened?”
“I’m just in a somewhat of a bad mood.” 
“I can fix that.” He smirked. 
You smiled weakly at him, clearly not in the mood to talk about whatever that was clouding your mind. “Let me shower real quick, I just got back from my night jog.” 
A hand grabbed you by your left wrist. 
“I need to shower first…” You complained trying to wiggle out from his grasp. 
He pulled you slightly closer to him, leaving small space in between your standing bodies. “I don’t wanna have sex.”
You looked at him as if you had seen a ghost. “You don’t?!”
“Come on, sit down.” He pulled you even closer, now grabbing you by your forearm. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Noth—“
“Don’t even.” 
You sighed. “It’s fine…” 
“Your eyes are red.” 
You quickly shook your arm from him and wiped your eyes harshly. 
“Hey,” He grabbed both of your shoulders. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just sit down? I’ll be a silent cuddler.” 
If only he knew how his words made you wanna cry even more. 
“Come on…” 
He pulled you into a hug and you accidentally let out a sob. He soothingly rubbed your back before dragging you to the sofa. He helped you sit down and got up to turn on the tv, but quickly lowered down the volume. He knew how much you loved cuddling while watching something. Anything, even. He just did not know you enjoyed it so much mainly because it included him. 
“Yoongi, I stink.” You said through sniffles. 
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I hate you.” You let out a small giggle.
“Again, tell me something I don’t know.” 
Oh, if only it was that easy. You sighed. “It’s okay if I don’t talk about it, right?”
The man nodded. “I won’t die just because you won’t suck the soul out of my dick tonight.” 
“Yoongi!” You slapped his sides. 
He smiled, rubbing your shoulder gently. “Alright, I’ll shut up now.” 
And you overslept. You did not know at what specific time did he leave, but you were awaken by the sound of multiple notifications from your phone. It could only be your friends bombing you with texts about the upcoming surprise for Jin, no one else would be doing that to you on a Saturday morning. 
Yoongi’s grey sweater was barely wrapped around your body. It was funny how he refused to come inside your bedroom without your permission, even though he had been there countless of times. It was almost sweet even, and you smiled just by the thought of him going home without his sweater. 
“I’ll pick you up around 6?” Jimin’s private message said, followed by more notifications from a separate group dedicated to Jin’s surprise plan.
The idea was to surprise Jin in the middle of his party. You would all pretend to show up late and some already agreed to even give some convincing reasons for not coming. Since Hoseok had already contacted the hotel management to lend one of the backstage room, later, you would all suddenly appear right from behind the stage as he was about to give a toast, surprising him with a cake.
Halfway through reading the chat talking about the plan, a call interrupted you. 
“You awake?” You didn’t even get the chance to say hello. 
“You left your sweater.” 
“Your aircon’s pretty cold you know. I don’t want you to get sick.” 
“Yoongi, you can literally just wake me up though.” You chuckled. 
“Right.”
“Right.” You mirrored awkwardly. “By the way, Jimin’s picking me up tonight and I still don’t know what to wear.” You laughed. 
There was a second of silence before he replied. “There’s always that black dress…?” 
“I’ll raid my wardrobe and we’ll see. That’s my last option.” You chuckled. “By the way, why did you call?”
“Just wanna make sure you got up, that’s all.”
“Well, the group chat certainly was loud enough don’t worry.” You said. “I’ll see you?”
“Alright.” The guy said shortly before hanging up the call. 
Despite sounding rather cheerful when you answered the call, last night’s event was still filling up your mind. It was hard to pretend everything was alright when just by hearing his breathing made you feel stuffy. 
Sooner or later you needed to bring a stop to this situation. Clearly it was getting pretty toxic. Maybe loving him from afar was enough for you. Surely you could get over him in a few weeks, or months, maybe more. The point was, you would get over it. You hoped so. 
Jimin later arrived at your place at half past five, expecting to see you already ready with your hair and makeup. But plot twist, here you were, still struggling between your outfit options. Clothes were all over your bedroom bed and floor, not the prettiest sight.
“Bitch, didn’t I tell you we need to be early?!” Your friend looked at you and the whole apartment unit in disbelief. 
“I don’t know what to wear…” You said, slumping over your couch. 
“I’ve never seen you so stressed over an outfit.” Jimin folded his arms. 
“I should’ve bought a new dress if I knew I would look ugly in everything I own today!” You groaned. 
Your best friend just looked at you and studied your expression for a few minutes. 
“What?” You retorted at him. 
“Is this about Yoongi?”
“H-huh?!” You widened your eyes in shock. “What about him?”
“Girl, don’t act like he didn’t pinch your ass when we were hanging at Taehyung’s that one time.” 
You gasped in horror. “You saw?!!!”
“Me and Jungkook, yeah.” The guy shrugged casually.
You covered your face in embarrassment. “Of course you did.” You sighed into your palm. “Does everyone know?”
“I think Joon’s a little suspicious about it but he never brought it up again. Maybe just me and Jungkook for now.”
“Okay…” You exhaled. 
“So what’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing!” You exclaimed, rather loudly. “I’m going to break it off soon, I swear!”
“But why?!” Your friend walked and sat next to you, looking concerned. 
“Jimin, friends aren’t supposed to fuck each other.” You looked at your friend sternly. 
“Oh my god…” Was all the guy said in response. He appeared to be in shock.
“I also wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him like that…” You covered your face again. “I don’t know how to tell him or to break whatever the hell that is between us.”
Jimin looked at you sympathetically. “How long has this been going?”
“Three months or so.”
“I feel like such a bad friend for not confronting you about this sooner.” 
“Hey, I’m the one who did something I shouldn’t have in the first place…” Your voice start to shake again. 
“Don’t cry now…” He hugged you. “Come on, I’ll help you sort this out, I promise. But we can’t do this with you looking not-so hot.”
You wiped your tears harshly. “Okay, help me then.”
“First, missy, we get up.” He helped you up and you broke into a smile. “And we pick a damn dress. Show me your options.”
“You know…” You bit your lips, fidgeting your fingers. “There’s this dress that Yoongi’s been telling me to wear…”
“That’s it! Show me.” Your friend beamed in excitement. 
“But it’s too short…” You said as you walked to grab the dress to show him. “Look, it could barely cover my butt.”
“Do you have stockings?” Jimin eyed the dress up and down.
“Well, yeah?” 
“Then let’s wear that.” He took the dress from your hand. “Go, grab those stockings! Oh, and do you have any red panties?”
“Jimin!” You whined. 
“Hey, if we wanna make him fall head over his heels, we gotta go all out!!!” Your friend laughed. 
And that was how you wound up wearing that infamous dress, with a sheer stockings underneath, and a leather jacket quickly borrowed from your friend who conveniently had one in his car. The platformed Mary Janes that you rarely wore finally got their chance to shine. 
When you and Jimin arrived at the meeting spot, everyone was already there. Everyone including the guy you wished would stop staring at you ever since you entered the function. 
You knew you were right on telling him to grow out his hair. The combination with the suit? You were weak in the knees. Did he really have to sleek his hair back every couple of second? You were slowly losing your sanity. If it were not for the fact that your friends were literally in the room with you, you would probably jump at him the very chance you can. 
“Do you wanna hold the cake?” Taehyung said, looking at your direction. 
“Huh? Why me?” You pointed at yourself. “I don’t wanna hold a huge cake that looks like a dead tuna.” You eyed the hilarious looking cake. 
“Dunno, you look hot tonight.” Taehyung shrugged playfully. 
“Yeah, Yoongi hasn’t stopped staring at you since the first second you arrived.” Namjoon nudged the guy next to him. 
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, looking away. 
“Oooh.” Jungkook joined in, teasing. 
“He’s not denying it!” Hoseok pointed out. The man had a wide grin on his face. 
“Guys, focus.” Jimin said, stopping the commotion. “We got around ten minutes before Jin will start panic-calling some of us.”
“Not gonna lie, I kinda feel bad imagining him panicking over no sight of any of us.” Namjoon commented. 
“He’ll get over it.” Taehyung replied. 
Jimin snapped his fingers to catch everyone’s attention. “Okay, so the event organizer will signal us when it’s time. We will all wait from behind the stage as he prepare for the toast, just when he’s done with the whole speech, we’ll show up.”
“Do we have to sing Happy Birthday?” Jungkook asked. 
“Of course, dummy. Do you want us to sing Careless Whisper or something?!” Hoseok snapped, which earned an evil snicker from the youngest one. 
“You, missy,” Jimin pointed at you. “You'll stand at front since you’ll be holding the cake.” 
“I’m literally the only one here in platforms, why should I?!” You complained. 
“I’m not gonna repeat Taehyung’s statement and start a whole argument again.” The blond haired guy chuckled. “And we all are gonna be right behind you, in case shit happens.”
“Yeah! Yoongi is ready— Ouch!” Hoseok did not let Jungkook finish his sentence by hitting his back. 
At this point Yoongi’s stares and glares were making you really uneasy. He did not react to their teases which was good, but this was also the first time that they started teasing both of you. There was no way Jimin or Jungkook had told them, cause if they wanted to, they could had told them months prior. Whatever it was, you were at least glad that Yoongi found you attractive enough today to catch his attention. 
After finishing the so-called briefing session, it was finally time to step out and wait from behind the curtains. Oddly, none of you got any text or calls from the birthday guy. The sound of the jazzy instrumentals playing and loud talkings could be heard. Jimin handed you the cake as you walked with all the boys right behind you. The mic started echoing and you heard Jin’s voice through the speaker. 
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for coming. I appreciate each and every one of you for your time.” The birthday boy stated. 
“I know it’s a bit much for a birthday, especially when I’m already entering this big age.” He laughed at the sight of thirty-one candle on his birthday cake. “I just wanna celebrate myself today and actually pat myself in the back for all the hard work I’ve done.”
It could be seen from his shadow that he was getting a little bit anxious, looking left and right. “I couldn’t be here without the support of my family and friends.” He exhaled. “Speaking of friends, I wonder where those rascals—“
In a flash, all of you appeared from behind the curtains, singing Happy Birthday loudly. One of the organizers had given you two mics, which were given to Jungkook and Jimin, since they were the actual ones blessed with singing voice. 
Pure expression of happiness was clearly painted on Jin’s face as he clapped and laughed at the sight of the tuna shaped cake with a single candle on its head. You all watched as he blew the candle quickly and snatched the cake from your hands to put it on the table beside him. Just seconds later, the oldest already scooped everyone into a big group hug. 
The after party came soon after all the old relatives went home. Bar was free flow open and the ballroom had transformed into a dance floor. 
Taehyung and Jungkook were dancing in sync, each with drinks in their hands. You could see Hoseok, Jin, and Jimin were goofing and laughing around as the DJ play an old trot song as per their request. Namjoon, you, and Yoongi were left chilling at the bar, enjoying the sight of your friends having fun. 
“Should we join them?” You said with a smile, eyes still looking at the dance floor. 
“Nah, I need to get up early tomorrow, can’t drink too much.” Namjoon said. 
You looked at Yoongi hesitantly, wanting to ask about his opinion, but before you could do that, you felt a hand over your shoulder. 
“Why aren’t you dancing with us???” Jin said to you, half shouting. 
“My dress isn’t exactly fitting to dance around with you goofballs.” You chuckled. 
“Aww, come on!” Jin pouted. “It’s my birthday!”
There was no saying no to Jin’s request. You were soon dragged to the center of the room, joining the boys. All their smiles and laughs were contagious, as in no time, you found yourself dancing along with them to yet another questionable song that Jin requested. 
You lost the track of time, but the pain in your feet reminded you to take a break. You slowly retracted yourself back to the bar area where Namjoon and Yoongi were. 
The speakers were blasting loudly. Even though it was incredibly loud, no amount of Britney Spears songs could make you unhear your name mentioned alongside the word “just” and “friends”. Yoongi was even saying it with an annoyed expression. It was crystal clear to you what the two of them were talking about and you needed no further explanation. 
Immediately the first thing you did was taking your phone from your handbag and texted Jimin. You told him that you needed to go home early and took the taxi. 
And you did. You managed to get out untracked without your any of your friends noticing. 
You barely sat down for five minutes on your sofa upon arriving. Tears that were pooling when you were in the cab now broke freely. You already knew, but hearing it first hand just made you feel sick. You thought you had prepared yourself better for the inevitable. Oh how you were wrong. 
The chat notifications of Jimin asking you multiple questions and three missed calls from him could be seen from your phone screen. You could not care less at the moment. Everything felt too much and it would drain you dead just to make a single reply. 
KNOCK KNOCK
Freezing in place, hand balled into fists. You knew Yoongi enough to even know his door knocking pattern. You were tempted to just ignore and hoping he would go home, but as a matter of fact, the guy had a spare access key to your place and he only knocked out of habit. 
“I’m coming in.” The voice warned, seemingly right in front of the doorstep. 
The expression that was plastered on Yoongi's face was unreadable. He had ditched his suit and tie somewhere and his eyes were insignificantly droopy from the alcohol. Your eyes locked for a quick second before you looked away, remembering how puffy your eyes probably were and how your makeup looked like a mess because of the cryings. 
“Why are you here?” You managed to say. 
“My sweater.” He said stoically. 
“There,” You pointed with your eyes. “On the table.”
He approached closer after taking off his shoes. You saw him bent down in front of you, but instead of grabbing the sweater, he chose to sit next to you. 
You did not know what to say. He wasn’t exactly saying anything to you either, just simply sitting down, listening to your heavy breaths. 
“You know, I came here to tell you to put an end to us…” Yoongi suddenly broke the silence. 
You did not reply, nor look at him. Only tears flowing out quietly as your head crooked to other direction. 
“But seeing your red eyes and messy makeup, all I wanna do right now is to kiss you like I mean it.” 
“Yoongi, stop.” You said with shaky voice. 
“No.” He delicately took your wrist and pulled you closer. You still refused to look into his eyes. 
“Stop… Please.” You begged. At this point you were sobbing, biting your lips hard so you wouldn’t make too much noice. 
Instead of saying anything, he cupped your face with his palms, kissing you. Your gasp and whining were swallowed by him altogether with your tears. You tried to push him at first, but your body quickly gave in to his touch. 
He broke the kiss to give pecks on your forehead, your eyes, cheeks, ears, the tip of your nose, before going to your neck. He rested his head on your shoulder, hugging you comfortably. You could feel his heart beating in such rapid pace. 
“Both Namjoon and Jimin almost hit me.” He chuckled nervously, head still resting on your shoulders in a hug. “When I told Joon that we’re secretly messing around with each other, that was his initial reaction. Later on, when we found out you left, I’ve never seen Jimin’s eyes filled with so much rage.”
You didn’t say anything, just letting him continue. Quite frankly, you could not decipher anything he had just said to you.
“The thing is, I’m not angry at them for accusing me of doing vile things and hurting you. I’m angry because it’s true. I am dumb and we shouldn’t have played with fire.”
“I should’ve stopped.” He withdrew, looking at you softly.
You bit the inner of your cheeks, fighting the tears from coming out. “I’m at fault too, you didn’t force me into anything.”
“Yeah, but I wished I started differently.” He scoffed. “I wish we started differently…”
You looked at him directly with eyes full of hope. “Yoongi…”
“Can we start over? Can I take you on a date?” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Am I even allowed to?”
“But you told me you didn't want a girlfriend…”
“I said a lot of stupid things and also did not say some things I should've.” He sighed. “I called you this morning to offer you a ride.”
You looked at him with widened eyes. “Why didn't you say so?!”
“I'm a coward.” He slumped down, looking away from you. “And I thought it'd make you uncomfortable.”
You chewed your bottom lip. “Then what about what you said to Joon?”
“You heard?”
“Only parts when you said that we're just friends, with a very annoyed expression.”
“He asked about us and I told him the whole story. He was furious at first as I mentioned, but I explained more afterwards.” He paused for a few seconds, before exhaling deeply. “Of course I'm annoyed with the fact that we're just friends…” He took your hand and laced his fingers with yours. “I'm in love with you.”
A tear escaped your eye, the same time a big shaky smile formed on your lips. You laughed, it just felt right to. After all, this whole circumstance between the two of you was indeed funny. Funny how the two of you kept making love while hurting each other in the process. Funny how you were basically crying over your insecurity towards him when he was feeling the same way all along.
“Me too…” You chuckled. Tears now flowing freely and you did not give a damn. "I'm in love with you too.”
Yoongi smiled. His eyes looked glistened and his cheeks were a tad bit rosy. You thought he looked so pretty at that exact moment. He caressed your cheek with his right hand, before gently pulling you towards him for a soft kiss. He quickly kissed the top of your head and pulled you into a hug.
His fingers ghosted the zipper on your back, resting just a little over your butt. When he teasingly pulled down the zipper halfway, you slapped his chest playfully. He laughed and kissed your forehead. And your lips, your neck, and then every single part of your body.
You'd be okay this time though.
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Thank you for reading! 🌤️
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Prompt request: HERE
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valentine-cafe · 6 months ago
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. ˚◞♡ 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒙 𝒃𝒕𝒕𝒎! 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⊹ ۪ ࣪
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ( 9948e jìngyí, hàoyú & yizé x reader ) grim reapers x reader, cw: rough fucking, slut nickname, whore nickname, degradation, fingering, oral ( recieving + giving ), throat fucking, sharing ⊹ ۪ ࣪
𖹭. you're a human training to be a grim reaper, although it seems like you caught the eye of the reaper heirs themselves
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imagine being not only one of the humans training to convert into a grim reaper under the yuè sanctuary, but also the pretty little pass-around for the zhào brothers.
the eldest wanted you first. jìngyí aided in some of your training, especially in scythe wielding. sparring with you and overpowering you each and every time because you look so so pretty on your knees for him. oh was it a treat to be strung up in his strong arms, legs pressed to your chest, back flushed against the wall as he bounced you on his cock. grunting each time you'd squirt your cum over him, and instead he'd just smear it over his hand and palm your dick.
“come on baobei keep your posture, mngh, that's it — yeah thaaatt's it. doing so good f'me,”
hàoyú followed in suit. inviting you to the gardens for a wonderful cup of tea after your long day of errands. pampering you. letting his touch linger, until it turned into his cold hands roaming all over you. he certainly helped you relax when he bent you over the little garden table and fingered you senseless. crooning and cooing as you clawed at his other hand and begged him to jerk off your weeping dick. if only for him to curl his fingers up against your sweet spot and fuck you harder.
“mm? oh how demanding. don't think you've earned that yet. what a whore, just lay there and take it.”
of course, yizé didn't take too long after. he had his eye on you from your first day of recruitment. and when he caught wind that his older brothers already had a go at you? he simply had to have you for himself too. so there you were; on your knees, drool and cum running down your neck as he gripped onto your hair and fucked your throat. tugging at your scalp every time you looked at him with those big, teary puppy eyes.
“m-mngh - what? looking so fuckin' innocent after being such a slut for my brothers? f-fuck, don't blame them. this pretty throat of yours takes it so well.”
not to mention the time you were invited to dinner. how you practically saw the jealousy that dripped from all three of them as they subtly looked for your attention.
of course it resulted in you being dragged back to jìngyí's room. your pants yanked down by hàoyú while the eldest kissed you so aggressively. tongue shoved down your throat.
you could barely even process yizé's cock that'd soon press up into you. his hips plapping up against your soft ass while hàoyu eagerly dropped to his knees before your own leaking dick.
“is this what you wanted?” jìngyí groans, gripping beneath your jaw as his other hand guides yours to keep pumping around his pulsing cock.
“wanted to be a little cumslut for reaper heirs? h-hah. . . 's that why y-you came here?”
“think so,” hàoyu pants in response. grabbing onto your shaky thighs and digging his talons in. taking yizé's place after the younger filled you up. all so hàoyú can shove himself into you and pound away. lifting one of your thighs up for easier access.
“a-ah — angh,” you'd pant, eyes looping back as you desperately drag jìngyí into another kiss. all while gripping yizé's hair and pulling his lips further up your cock, bucking your hips to needily fuck his throat.
“p-plesse - please, I-I'll be good, please hngh”
“fuck," groans jìngyí, spilling all over your hand with a pant, parting from your lips just slightly. “it's my turn to have that - hah - tight little ass after,” he breathes.
“keep whining like that and it'll be for the rest of the night.”
“bold of you to assume we'd let you have them all to yourself.”
“mngh, m-mhhm.”
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jayflrt · 1 year ago
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against the world
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PAIRING ▸ park sunghoon x fem!reader x sim jaeyun (ft. park jongseong)
GENRES ▸ fluff, angst, psychological, horror, thriller
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, murder, descriptions of gore, unrequited love, found family, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, mc is an unreliable narrator
SUMMARY ▸ if you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting park sunghoon.
WORD COUNT ▸ 14,064 words
PLAYLIST ▸ back to black by amy winehouse • the french library by franz gordon • perfectly splendid by the newton brothers
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a rewrite of one of my first horror fics that i’ve written :') it badly needed reworking and i completely changed the ending. i hope you guys enjoy my spooky szn contribution ♡
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THE TRUTH WAS, YOUR LIFE BEGAN TO FALL APART EVEN BEFORE YOU MET SIM JAEYUN. 
You realized this as you woke up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a holding cell; when the guards dragged your uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when you were face-to-face with Detective Lee Heeseung and handcuffed to a cold, metal table as he read your Miranda Rights. The handcuffs dug into the flesh of your wrists, but you only fought against them once and gave up as soon as you realized they wouldn’t give in. You just wanted to thumb away the crusted blood staining your hands and pick out the flakes under your nails.
The room was foreign to you. It was something you’d seen in movies and read in books, but you never fathomed the idea of being in an interrogation room yourself. There was a two-way glass that you aimlessly stared at, wondering who was listening in on the other end. 
You couldn’t figure out just how you ended up in this situation. Everything was smooth in your memory up until your supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of your recollection. You hardly remembered what happened on the way to the police station or when you were getting booked in. You dug your palms into your temples and then pressed against the soft flesh under your eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in your head. As much as you begged than to click and start spinning, they remained stuck and rusted in place. 
But you couldn’t ask the brooding man standing over you. You couldn’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes. After all, he knew you were a murderer. 
“There’s no use in lying to me, Y/N,” Detective Lee said gruffly with a gaze like steel, “the prints match.”
You drummed your fingers against the table—a habit that was rooted in your anxiety. Your fingers were stained and pruned like roses, and as hard as you tried to paint the table red, it only flaked off. You were sure your heartbeat was faster than the tapping of your fingers, your mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast.
Your stomach twisted. If Jaeyun was going to prison, too, then you could no longer protect him.
There was a limit to how much he could take; you knew that being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. You knew you needed to get to him immediately because Jaeyun was the guy who felt too little and too much at the same time—the guy who looked for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructed when he felt the world closing in on him.
After all, Jaeyun was a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends. 
You worked up the courage to look Detective Lee in the eye, which made him stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up. 
“Where’s Jaeyun?” you asked. 
Detective Lee’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Cutting into his pale cheeks. You decided that couldn’t be a good reaction. 
You continued, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”
“If you cooperate with us, then you can see Jaeyun again,” the detective answered in a clipped tone. “I can sit here all day and wait.”
Cooperate. You hated that word.
You knew Detective Lee was just trying to sugarcoat your betrayal. You knew he was looking down on you, ready to push you to your limit. 
But there was nothing you could do in this room. There was no way for you to escape or talk your way out of it to see Jaeyun. You knew quite well that staying silent would only prevent you from making sure your boyfriend was okay. 
You had no other choice but to work with Detective Lee. 
“Will you at least make sure he’s not hurt?” you inquired, to which Detective Lee agreed with a nod.
“I’ll ask again: Will you cooperate?”
You stayed silent. You despised your old habit of shutting down like this, but you couldn’t help it.
Detective Lee sighed and sat in the chair across from you so that you both were eye-level with each other. “Listen, Y/N, you’re young. This murder investigation—this is serious stuff, okay? We just need to know the full story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest. Can we start from last night?”
Deep down, you understood. But it’s all too fresh—too soon. The grief had yet to settle. The recollections of blood and lifeless eyes poisoned your head; it was all you could see when you closed your eyes.
You sounded hollow when you said, “It didn’t… start from last night.”
Detective Lee acknowledged this and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”
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If you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting Park Sunghoon.
Your first meeting was at the age of fourteen. Moving schools was an unexpected shift in your life, and you didn't expect to find many friends at your new school. Starting new in the beginning of the year was one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups was another. 
People flocked to comfort, and you were sure that no one would want to step out of their comfort zone to bring a stranger into their friend group.
And then Sunghoon swooped in, like an angel sent from the heavens.
Initially, he was awkward. You were both fourteen-years-old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and awkward intervals of growth stunts. Sunghoon was soft-spoken and didn’t have many friends when he approached and befriended you. 
It started when you both found out you shared a love for novels. You spent hours talking about your favorite books, and Sunghoon shared his dream of wanting to craft the perfect story. Oftentimes, Sunghoon would share some of his writing with you, and then his eyes would sparkle upon hearing your feedback. 
You two were classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. You got to know Sunghoon slowly—the same gradual feeling of starting to care for someone. You knew his boundaries, though, because you were aware that you could never be the closest to Sunghoon. He and Park Jongseong were attached at the hip, and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you felt like a third wheel in the beginning.
But there was some comfort in the security of your friendship.
“It’s you and me,” Sunghoon would tell you, “the two of us against the world.”
You knew you should have been grateful to have made friends in the first place, but you didn’t exactly know if you belonged with them. As comfortable as you felt, there was always a whisper in the back of your head, telling you that you would never be their number one.
You would never be anyone’s number one.
“I don’t understand girls,” Jongseong said one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of you were hanging out in Sunghoon’s room. You were flipping through some comic book that Sunghoon had laying around, and you shifted uncomfortably upon hearing the question. 
“You don’t have to.” Sunghoon’s eyes flitted from you, and then back to his phone. He swiped through some apps, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”
Jongseong nudged you. “You have anything to say about that, Y/N?”
To be honest, you didn’t understand yourself much either. You were just starting to go through puberty, and it wasn’t ideal for a teenager as young as you to only have guy friends. You couldn’t relate to any of the girls your age, nor could you ask them if they were going through the same changes you were. 
You were acquainted with several girls, of course, but you never got close enough to ask what feelings and experiences they had. You wanted to know if they were becoming as conscious of themselves and others like you were, but you kept those questions bottled up since you only had Sunghoon and Jongseong.
“Nope,” you replied. “I couldn’t tell you.”
You supposed Jongseong was having girl problems again, and it all clicked because lately, he had been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They were cute together and clearly into each other, but you could pick up on the issue: Jongseong was on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he had been on the down-low about it around Sunghoon, which had to have been breaking some sort of best friend code.
Jongseong asked, “You like anyone, Hoon?”
Hoon, your brain echoed, and you imagined yourself using the name as casually as Jongseong did. It sounded awkward coming from you, though. Friends gave each other nicknames, right? What if you gave Sunghoon a nickname? How would he react?
Sunghoon flushed behind his phone screen. You could tell he wanted it to go undetected, but you caught a glimpse of his flustered expression before he was able to compose himself.
“Oh, not really,” he replied with an air of indifference. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t really been looking.”
“How about you, Y/N?”
You faltered for a moment before you realized you had been addressed. It was a normal question; you should have expected it, but it hit you like a tornado and your mind was swirling. Dating had crossed your mind a few times, sure, you had never prepared an answer because you thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there’s a few cute guys in class.” But that wasn’t the case this time, and you were wondering why there wasn’t any clarity in your head.
Come on, Y/N, you urged yourself, as if you were complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in your brain. Just say something—anything. 
Your mind was blanking, though, and you were scared. You couldn’t quite grasp why your stomach felt like a never-ending pit, but it only worsened when you couldn’t spit some guy’s name out. You wanted to open up your skull, thoroughly examine your head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out who you couldn’t just list some attractive guy in class; on top of that, you wondered why you couldn’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there was no one you were interested in.
You were struck with a painful realization that there was only one person you could think of.
Sunghoon.
No, no, no, your brain and your heart screamed at each other. Get ahold of yourself.
You quickly decided that it was just a passing feeling that you needed to suppress until it went away. It was just stupid teenage hormones and puberty making you feel this way and starving you of affection that you didn’t actually need in the first place. If you didn’t get a hold over yourself, you were going to crumble and ruin the good things you had going.
You internally convinced yourself that everything was fine. There were plenty of teenagers your age who had moments of weakness like this with their guy friends. You just needed to branch out more, that was all. 
Sheepishly, you replied before the boys could chew you out, “There’s no one I’m interested in right now.” 
You weren’t a very good liar, but as long as Sunghoon and Jongseong were sold, you were content with how things were. 
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Your group expanded when you turned fifteen, and you and Sunghoon grew closer—maybe even closer than Sunghoon and Jongseong were. 
You were laying down in your bed one night, breaking into sobs when you realized that you needed more than one hand to count the number of friends you had now. Your shell was broken and your world was bigger. You normally lived like your uphills were mountains and your downhills were cliffs, but, lately, the mountains were getting easier to climb and the downhills weren’t that big of a drop. You didn’t need to stop and catch your breath or worry about hurting yourself on the way down.
You never felt lonely anymore. If Sunghoon or Jongseong weren’t free, you would call Nishimura Riki to catch grasshoppers in the creek with you, or you’d go play video games with Yang Jungwon. Kim Sunoo called you nearly every night to bother you, but you didn’t mind. You liked them; they made you feel important, like you were wanted.
“Come on,” Sunghoon teased Jungwon one day as he was blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”
“It’s embarrassing!” Jungwon complained, and you giggled over how a flush of red started creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “I’m not a smooth-talker like you are, Hoon.” 
Sunghoon snorted. “I’m not a smooth-talker.”
“He’s practically, like, bulletproof,” Jongseong chimed in. “We can’t tease him about anyone. He just brushes it off.”
“I’m not bulletproof,” Sunghoon argued, but anyone could see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”
You thought you had finally squashed the weird, gooey feeling that arose in your chest every now and then whenever Sunghoon came close. It was primarily due to the fact that Sunghoon was a respectful individual who didn’t try to weasel his way into your personal bubble as he pleased. That was probably for the best because you were sure your brain would go haywire if Sunghoon was too close for comfort.
And then there was Sim Jaeyun. 
Jaeyun entered your circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it was no shocker that he was accepted by the group instantly. He possessed some odd charm that drew people to him, and you couldn’t seem to figure just how that worked. You were almost jealous of him, honestly, with how much of a social butterfly he was.
Out of all of them, Jaeyun seemed to take a particular interest in you. It drove you crazy, though, and you couldn’t figure out how to get the guy to stop teasing and messing around with you. The others couldn’t figure it out either; you just weren’t as bright and bubbly as Jaeyun was, so it was odd that he kept nagging the one person whose wavelength wasn’t on par with his. 
Sometimes it was cute—endearing even—but sometimes it was just flat-out irritating.
“Hey, Y/N.” Jake grinned, and his voice was all light and airy as he approached you. “What’re you doing for the summer break?”
“Probably sleeping in, hanging out with the others, and some more sleeping,” you replied, hardly sparing him a single glance. 
You were too focused on clearing out your locker of all the books and papers you had tossed in during the year. Gotta keep this, gotta throw this away, gotta return this one, you rattled off in your head, mentally preserving a reminder of your various items. But Jaeyun knew how to push your buttons and grab your attention. He never took your deflection without retaliating back. That was one of the many reasons why you found it so difficult to be around him.
“And hanging out with Sunghoon, huh? Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it’s not there?”
You closed your locker with a swift swipe of your hand, revealing Jaeyun’s smug expression. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your sockets as you stared him down. Somehow, you knew exactly what he was hinting at, but you refused to spell it out for him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, but Jaeyun was already walking away from you. He was turned away, but you could visualize that stupid smirk of his like it was carved into your memory.
Jaeyun was smart. Too smart.
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Your summer was filled with laughter, beach trips, and shy glances at Sunghoon. He drove you around places and you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, toes curled in your shoes because you were so overjoyed. The car was always loud with music and laughter, and whenever it was silent, it was because everyone else was sleeping on each other after a long day of being outside.
You still masqueraded around, playing the role of Sunghoon’s best friend who definitely had zero romantic feelings toward him. It was quite hard when you had to pretend like your heart didn’t flutter whenever Sunghoon’s fingers brushed against yours.
“Sunghoon,” Jaeyun would complain, rousing laughter from everyone at how impatient he was, “are we there yet?”
“You’re so annoying,” Sunghoon retorted, clearly as a joke. You couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, but it quickly died on your lips once you caught a glimpse of Jaeyun winking at you in the side mirror.
Jaeyun had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he said, “But you still love me, Hoon.”
Oh. 
He was trying to make you jealous. 
You fought down the urge to laugh at him. You might have been harboring a small crush, but you were never the jealous type, especially not over petty things like this. There was one little thing, however, that you couldn’t seem to shake.
For some reason, the anticipation to call Sunghoon by a nickname made you anxious. You never tested it on your tongue; it just floated around in your head. However, when you addressed him as Hoon one day, your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon responded with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun.
You grew closer to Jongseong, too. You didn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Sunghoon anymore; you felt like you were all at the same level of closeness. You and Jongseong hung out sometimes without Sunghoon, and despite a few awkward pauses in your interactions, you two warmed up quickly and you learned how to joke around with him easily. 
Jongseong wasn’t all stiff and dry like you were initially afraid of; rather, he was surprisingly fun, and every time you learned something new about him, like how he adored cats but was allergic to them, you were even more amazed. 
It wasn’t just Jongseong, though. You and Sunghoon grew far closer than ever before, whether that was for the better or worse. 
Sunghoon only lived a street away, so it was convenient to hang out, and when you didn’t hang out with him, you two called each other. You could see him unravel in front of your eyes; he became visibly more comfortable when it was just the two of you—smiling, laughing, and bursting into laughter with tears of unrestrained happiness. 
It wasn’t just the jubilant memories that tugged you two closer, though. It was also the despair.
In the first place, it was an accident that you even happened to break down in front of Sunghoon.
You two were in his room when it happened, and things were as they always had been before you sensed the calm before the storm. You joked around as usual and passed the time by playing video games. Sunghoon was perched on his usual spot in the corner of the bed. You looked over at him and realized how close you two had become as friends.
Friends. Just friends.
It was right at that moment when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to just be Sunghoon’s best friend. You wanted to be the reason why he smiled, the one to make him blush, and the one he could share his pain and happiness with. 
But your feelings were the scariest thing you’ve ever had to face, and you felt ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between you and Sunghoon.
You couldn’t dare bring yourself to confess. You were almost positive that Sunghoon didn’t feel the same way, and you would be risking a fall-out in your current relationship if you admitted anything. What if Sunghoon ended up hating you? What if you lost him and all of your other friends? What if you weren’t the closest person to him anymore?
That was why you felt like Sunghoon was in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.
This was your own fault. You were the one who fell for your best friend. You were the one who did this to yourself. You broke your own heart.
You couldn’t help it when you started falling apart in front of him. It started with a broken cough that was supposed to cover up a sniffle. You were thankful for the loud battle sounds in the game that drowned out your quiet sobbing. But the video game didn’t stop Sunghoon from noticing your shaking hands gripping the controller.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” 
“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.”
Your voice is so shaky, so broken. Sunghoon knew you were crying before he could see or hear it.
He paused the game and put the controller down, but your eyes were still trained on the screen, hands shaking as you clutched the controller until you were white-knuckled. Sunghoon was on edge—panicked. Although, it was a different kind of panic from all the times you would be stressing over an assignment and Sunghoon would offer some lame piece of advice in return.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” His tone was frantic now as he searched your face for an answer.
You smiled, although faint melancholy was tucked away in the curl of your lip. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Now, I know that’s not true.”
Your smile broke. It was so unfortunate that Park Sunghoon had to have a heart so big.
You could almost hear Jaeyun in the back of your head: Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it isn’t there? 
You started crying, and it wasn’t something soft with a gradual crescendo. It was loud and all at once, like a wounded animal. Your hands shook more, and you finally dropped your controller, burying your fingers into your roots, as if tugging your hair hard enough would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the ache in your chest.
Sunghoon was quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and it only made you feel ashamed. You stiffened up and shrunk back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how you tensed up at his touch. You could hear your own heartbeat, but you were pretty sure you were hyperventilating at a faster pace than the pounding in your chest. The world under you moved, bounced, so you decided to lean into Sunghoon.
The logical half of your brain informed you in a calm, clipped manner that you were having a panic attack. The other half meanwhile was screaming and shutting itself down. 
Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste, you tried telling yourself, but your senses overwhelmed you completely. Your tears were blurring your vision, you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire. 
“Y/N, talk to me,” came the softest voice that eased the painful ringing in your ears. 
“I can’t,” you stuttered out. “Not right now.”
You wish you hadn’t let it get to this point. You were completely humiliating yourself in front of Sunghoon right now. This was the one thing you couldn’t let him find out about. 
Your heavy gasps grew more labored. You then curled into yourself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at your hair. And, shit, you couldn’t breathe. 
“I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated again and again, like a broken record. The desperation in your voice was so ugly.
There was something fierce in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was ready to protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you, but there was also softness in his voice. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want you to suffer alone, Y/N.”
With a small smile, he added, “It’s just you and me, right? The two of us against the world.”
That only made you cry even more. You just replayed Sunghoon’s words in your head, like it was your favorite song.
“Alright.” You breathed in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “It’s really stupid.”
“If it makes you cry this hard, it can’t be stupid.”
You bit your lip, embarrassed. “I think I like someone—someone I can’t have.”
Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment, and it rattled your brain. He probably was wondering this underwhelming confession warranted a breakdown from you, and you couldn’t blame him. However, it was the only way you could avoid lying to your best friend without giving him the whole truth. 
For a split second, you wondered if Sunghoon simply just didn’t hear you. But you didn’t want to repeat yourself; you didn’t like repeating yourself. 
To your surprise, Sunghoon just smiled. “Do I know them?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were stringing together in your head to form a coherent sentence.
“Uh, well, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” Sunghoon continued. He flushed and flicked his thumb under his nose—an awkward mannerism of his that you grew to love over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. There’s someone I like, too. Someone I can’t have.” 
His words bounced in your skull. Settled. Bounced again.
“Really?” you spluttered out, and it took you a moment to recuperate from the heavy sadness that was filling your chest. You brought yourself to ask, “I mean, you’re so popular, so why don’t you just ask them out?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? Are they dating someone else?”
There was a sad smile on Sunghoon’s lips when he answered, “No, Jongseong likes her, too.”
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At the age of sixteen, you realized that you couldn’t get over Sunghoon, but you could suppress your heartbreak and lingering feelings. 
It physically hurt to think about how deeply ingrained your concept of friendship was with him, and the possibility that Park Sunghoon would never think of you as more than a friend. You two had shared too many experiences—worn each other’s shoes and walked miles—to ever become more than what you were.
Nothing would ever change.
You were hanging out by a creek near Jongseong’s house. It was just the two of you—no Jaeyun to poke fun at you, and no Sunghoon to distract you. It was just the two of you, and it was somehow so easy to be with Jongseong like this. You could laugh with your stomach and smile with your eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down. 
“It’s getting annoying, isn’t it?” Jongseong asked under his breath at one point. When you shot him a puzzled look, he clarified, “Sunghoon.”
You picked up on Jongseong’s annoyance toward Sunghoon over the past few weeks, but his words confirmed your suspicions now. You wondered if it was geared toward the girl they both liked—whoever she was. 
You never thought to ask, mainly because you didn’t want to know. Either way, if Sunghoon wanted to share, he would’ve done so already. 
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but you genuinely didn’t know what to say. 
It had always been you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. You never thought about them turning on each other. The very idea made you feel sick to your stomach. 
Over the past week, you had seen Sunghoon’s indifference toward Jongseong, but you were too afraid to ask about it. Your friend group was slow to pick up on it, but you noticed the way Sunghoon would purposely avoid conversing with Jongseong, or the way Jongseong would walk quickly past him if they crossed paths. It was odd, though, because everyone knew that Sunghoon and Jongseong were the best of friends—inseparable. How could you hold onto someone for so long and just let go of them like that?
You recalled that Jongseong and Jungwon went over to talk to Sunghoon about his moody behavior, but Jongseong never told you whether the talk went well or not. You figured it just never happened because Jungwon called in sick the very next day. 
You prayed that he would hurry up and get over his cold. He had been out sick all week, which checked out since everyone was getting sick around this time of the year. Jungwon would know how to get Sunghoon and Jongseong to reconcile. He was always the friend that helped everyone patch things up. 
“You guys are best friends,” was all you could say. “You’ll make up in a few days, right?”
Jongseong clicked his tongue loud enough to make your skin crawl. 
But you didn’t want to drop it this time, you asked, “Seriously, what happened between you guys?” 
For a moment, you wondered if you should’ve brought up what Sunghoon confessed to you—about him and Jongseong liking the same girl. But this couldn’t have been about that; Sunghoon would never let a girl get between his friendships. 
“Sunghoon’s hiding something dark,” Jongseong blurted out. “I don’t think I can get him out of this one.”
“Something dark? What is it?”
“I don’t really know—”
“Jongseong,” you cut in. “If you know something, then just say it. He’s my best friend, too.”
Jongseong shifted uncomfortably, restless. He was silent for a long period of time, so you just waited for him to collect his thoughts. Uneasiness bursted from the tips of your fingers and crawled under your skin. You felt the heat of the sun against your face, so you looked up and covered your eyes with a hand, blinking back red. 
“If Sunghoon did something unforgivable,” he started in a murmur, “would you forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” was all you could say.
“Yeah,” Jongseong replied, his terse words nearly making you flinch. “I don’t know, either.”
The sun grew hotter against your face, and all you could see was blood red behind your eyes. 
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You didn’t know how exactly it started, but you slowly started to find solace in Jaeyun.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care for him a little more than the people around you. You were starting to get swayed by him—the things he said, the way he looked at you—and it scared you a little.
But Jaeyun felt safe. He felt like home.
You two called at night, sometimes. You weren’t normally one to be vulnerable in front of others, but you shed some tears in front of Jaeyun a couple of times.
The only other person you had cried in front of was Sunghoon.
“It’s kinda sad,” Jaeyun told you one day. You two were spending the afternoon studying together at his place, and you were feeling self-conscious because you were starting to regret not dressing a little cuter. “I’ve known you for a year, but we’ve only gotten close now.”
“I don’t think either of us cared about deepening our friendship back then.”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You think I didn’t want to be closer? How do you think I picked up on you liking Sunghoon?”
“Because I was obvious about it?”
“No, idiot, because I like you.”
You blinked a few times until you fully processed his words. I like you, your brain repeated, and then you reprocessed the information. 
No, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only were you liked, but he thought you were stupid, as well. 
You became painfully aware of your knees touching Jaeyun’s, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of him liking you romantically. You had never been in this position. Since your crush on Sunghoon had been one-sided for the past few years, you never expected to be on the receiving end. 
“You…” you trailed off, floundering to find something to say—something that wouldn’t make you sound stupid or mean. You settled with, “You, too?”
His eyes beamed with hope. “For a year now.”
Your world was so small before. It was just you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. 
Before you could even wonder if there was space in your heart for Jaeyun, you realized that you had already let him burrow his way in there.
“Can I kiss you?” Jaeyun asked. 
You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, and every once of nervousness slipped away. You always thought you could attain this level of closeness with Sunghoon, but maybe your relationship with him was just that fragile—where you could just grab the string binding you two together and snip it completely. 
But it was different with Jaeyun. 
“Yeah,” you answered, smiling, “you can.”
And then, with Jaeyun’s breath fanning your lips, you felt Sunghoon completely dissolve from the impounding thoughts racking your brain. Right now, it was Jaeyun and only Jaeyun. 
You leaned in first, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against Jaeyun’s soft ones. It was weird, kissing for the first time, but he leaned into it instantly so that your movements were less awkward and more guided. 
A fire blazed inside of you, burning hotter than imaginable. You didn’t expect Jaeyun to drive you this crazy—to crave more, to want more. You drew back before you slid your hand into his hair, although you were tempted to go further when his pillowy lips peppered soft kisses along your jawline. 
But you didn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. You settled for leaving another chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, and you were delighted when you saw how pleased Jaeyun was. He was practically glowing. 
From then on, you and Jaeyun had a relationship that extended past something platonic, but it wasn’t like you two were official. Naturally, you ended up confiding in him over everything. 
While Sunghoon still held a place in your heart as your first love, you grew to care for Jaeyun, who kindled a gentler fire in you. Sunghoon, on the other hand, left you burned and scarred. 
You didn’t want to rush into a relationship, mainly because you didn’t want Jaeyun to think he was a rebound, and he respected that. So he waited for you to figure out your feelings and let your heart choose who was right for you. 
You weren’t stupid, though; you knew that chasing after Sunghoon was a hopeless cause.
You and Jaeyun drifted about in a limbo-state of your relationship. You two went on a couple of dates, got to know each other at a deeper level, and spent a lot of time together. He became the person you thought about when you were falling asleep and when you woke up in the morning. 
You two got along surprisingly well, and you wondered why you ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Sure, Jaeyun still got on your nerves at times, but you just found it funny after the wave of annoyance passed. 
Your friends started to talk about how close you two were and frequently brought up the idea of you two dating. Of course, you always denied it, enjoying the privacy you and Jaeyun had. 
But as your relationship blossomed into something more serious, you decided that you didn’t want things to stay casual any longer. So, you asked him out, and Jaeyun, being the lovesick puppy he was, accepted without a second thought. 
You thought about how much had changed in your life. Sunghoon stopped hanging out with you completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, they all collectively gave up. You and Jongseong still kept an eye on him, using roundabout ways to find out how he was doing; it was the most you two could do given how little opportunity you had to talk to him. 
You didn’t share many classes with Jongseong anymore, but you two were still close, even after your “two of us against the world” friendship with Sunghoon had gone to shit. 
Jongseong was kind, though, and despite how he was rough around the edges, he was gentle enough. 
But he knew that Sunghoon was hiding something dark, and that alone made you somewhat nervous around him. 
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You felt unsettled the entire day, but when your group chat started flooding with texts about Jungwon in the middle of the night, you felt an icy chill travel down your spine. 
It was all over the news. The whole story about him being down with the flu was just a cover-up while authorities were looking for him.
You felt nauseous. 
HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR WOODS. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.
The 16-year-old boy was found dead at the scene. The parents of the deceased student have identified him as Yang Jungwon. As of now, there are no leads, but authorities have ruled the case as a homicide. 
Police have asked anyone with information to contact their local police department.
You read the headline again. Over and over again until your vision was blurry and the words were convoluted. Your fingers were raw and bitten down to the nail bed by the time you were able to put your phone down so that you could just cry into your hands. 
By the time you got around to reading the details, grimacing at the descriptions of mutilation done to Jungwon’s body and how his body had been decomposing for weeks now, you had to run to your toilet and dry heave everything out. 
You weren’t the closest to Jungwon or anything, but imagining such a bright person meet such a horrific end wasn’t easy to process. For hours, you ignored all of the calls and texts and attempts to comfort from your parents. You stared straight at your wall—so terrified that your chest hurt and your breathing was ragged. 
Later that night, when the world was quiet and dreaming, you received a text from Sunghoon. 
sunghoon: Hey sunghoon: I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? sunghoon: I haven’t been a good friend lately, I’m sorry sunghoon: It’s still the two of us against the world
There was a time when those words made you feel like you were on top of the world, soaring high over the clouds. 
Now, though, all you could feel was a horrible sensation of dread.
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It had been months since Sunghoon and Jongseong’s falling out. 
You were seventeen now, but you felt hollower as you aged. Sunghoon showed up to school and lingered within your group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He didn’t approach you anymore or ask to hang out after school. Actually, no one knew what he did after school. He would head straight home and then go completely off the radar. 
Gone off the rails, as Sunoo called it. 
You cried several nights over it. You felt like not only was your best friend slipping away from you, but Sunghoon’s disconnect from the group would soon make you pull away, too. You had Jaeyun, of course, but nothing felt the same anymore. With Jungwon dead, the group felt tense and gloomy. You all started hanging out with other people and slowly stopped responding in the group chat. 
Part of you realized that Sunghoon’s detachment was because you didn’t reply to him the night Jungwon’s murder was publicized. Back then, you suspected that Sunghoon could have been behind it, judging by your conversation with Jongseong earlier. It all added up in your head, but the only thing that was stopping you from believing it fully was that you couldn’t fathom Sunghoon ever doing something so evil. 
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you whispered into the phone, even though there wasn’t anyone around that you were worried about listening in. “He’s shutting me out now. Something must’ve happened to him.” 
You heard Jaeyun hum and contemplate for a moment before he replied, “Maybe he just needs space.” 
“I think something happened between him and Jongseong,” you admitted, “but I can’t imagine Jongseong saying anything that would make Sunghoon ignore him for this long.”
“It must’ve been serious, then.” 
“But… but it’s Sunghoon; he’s”—you paused as you recalled what Jongseong once called him—“bulletproof.”
There was a pause.
“I guess that’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Jaeyun spoke gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”
What Jaeyun told you that night kept replaying in your head over the next week—over and over again. It hit you a little too hard, and you waited to confront Sunghoon about it. You wanted him to know that he could be vulnerable, too. But you couldn’t even speak to your best friend these days. He had been avoiding everyone like the plague.
You assumed it had something to do with Jongseong, but when you talked to him about it, he was hesitant to get into it.
“You’re the closest person to him,” you told him. Today was colder, and you rubbed your hands together for warmth as you and Jongseong stood by the gates after school. “I think if you guys sit down and talk things out, then he’ll start being himself again.”
“I was the closest person to him,” Jongseong corrected with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Nothing to talk about? What about your friendship?”
You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. Anger roiled deep in your chest, and you were too furious to realize that Jongseong only looked dejected in response. If he wasn’t going to explain what happened, then you couldn’t understand what was eating away at their relationship. 
“There is no friendship, Y/N,” he said slowly, in a voice so low that it sounded like the calm before the storm. His words made everything come to a halt, and you felt like time itself had frozen. “I suggest you let go of Sunghoon, too. You’re hanging onto someone who’s beyond help.”
“But I don’t know what you know!” you exclaimed. “I can’t let go of someone just like that, Jongseong. I need answers.”
He was quiet before he asked, “Do you remember when Sunghoon stayed over at your house once when we were fourteen?”
“When his house caught on fire?” you recalled, but the memory was sort of hazy for you. All you remembered was how you were in complete awe that Sunghoon was unscathed and unbothered by the incident. 
“Yeah,” Jongseong’s voice was grim as he said, “and I bet he never told you that he was the one who started that fire on purpose.”
It was like a punch to the gut. You could only shake your head blankly, lips parted in disbelief. 
He continued, “When we were fifteen, he thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught—”
No.
“—and, at sixteen, he actually did it.”
No. No. 
“Jongseong,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended, “was it…” 
“Jungwon?” He said the name so carefully, as if the world would explode into nothingness if he did. You had been gnawing at your lip so hard that you drew blood, yet that couldn’t distract you from the haunted look in Jongseong’s eyes. “Yeah, he killed Jungwon.”
You felt like you had just been doused with ice-cold water. 
“I shouldn’t have brought Jungwon with me. I knew Sunghoon was gonna do it to someone, but I didn’t know…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath that racked his entire body. “I didn’t think it would be him. I brought Jungwon to talk him out of whatever was going on, not to…” Jongseong stopped himself again, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears that had started to fall. 
It’s you and me, Sunghoon’s voice chimed in your head. The two of us against the world.
You thought your world had been shattered, but then you realized that it had actually been broken for a long time.
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That night, you asked Jaeyun to come over, and he arrived at your door in record speed.
You two were sitting on your bed, controllers in hand, but the screen was off and neither of you were even in the mood to play. You must have trusted him more than anyone by now because the words started spilling with no preamble. You ended up explaining most of your conversation with Jongseong after you had Jaeyun swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell a soul.
Of course, you didn’t expect any normal person to compliantly come to terms with the fact that their friend murdered their other friend, but Jaeyun was a bit different when it came to you. Instead of accusing you of lying or denying the truth, he believed you wholeheartedly. You couldn���t tell if he was patient with you, or if he was just horrified by everything you had told him. 
It had been an entire year since Jungwon had been found dead and the case closed as an unsolved murder, but your words sucker punched Jaeyun like it had just happened yesterday. 
Jaeyun’s tone was urgent when he said, “We have to tell someone.” When he noticed your hesitation, he shook his head at you with a disapproving frown. “Y/N, this is serious. This is Jungwon, my best friend.” 
Your mouth went dry. “I-I know, it’s just—”
Jaeyun didn’t have to cut you off. You froze right when you saw tears welling up in his eyes.
“Y/N.” He said your name gently, but you still flinched. You had never heard your name being called with so much despair. “If Sunghoon really murdered Jungwon, then I can’t keep this a secret.”
“Give me a few days,” you pleaded. “I just want to hear Sunghoon out. No matter what he says, I’ll come with you to testify.” 
He shook his head immediately, eyes fierce. “You are not going anywhere near Sunghoon—not after what he did to Jungwon.”
“Then let me ask Jong—”
“Y/N,” Jaeyun interrupted, letting his hand slide over yours. His eyes were full of concern when he asked, “How do you know you can trust Jongseong?” 
Your hands started to shake.
“Y/N,” he said again, “if Jongseong took Jungwon to see Sunghoon, what do you think he did after Sunghoon killed him?”
Your pulse raced.
“If Jongseong knew about Sunghoon’s behavior for this long, why hasn’t he ever done anything?” 
All this time, you thought your world had grown a little bigger ever since you met Sunghoon and Jongseong. 
But you were living in a fantasy by yourself. 
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Not so long after your talk with Jaeyun, your phone rang. You were in the middle of finishing up your history paper when you saw the caller ID flash across your screen.
It was Sunghoon.
You didn’t even give yourself time to think about it first. You just picked up the phone immediately. It was an old habit; you saw Sunghoon and accepted the call without a second thought. You never expected Sunghoon to ever call you again, so you didn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls.
“Y/N?” came the familiar voice of Park Sunghoon—gentle, but almost like he was a caged animal.
“Sunghoon?” You swallowed hard. “Uh, how are you? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, but you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. “It was supposed to be the two of us against the world.”
You frowned. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?”
Instead of answering your question, Sunghoon hesitated before saying, “We should catch up sometime. You can read part of the story I’m writing.”
You paused, and before he could ask if you were still there, you replied, “Yeah, sure.”
“Right.” Sunghoon sounded like he had more to say. You almost didn’t catch it because he was so quiet, and the last thing you heard before he hung up was a quiet, “Bye, then.”
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Your deepest regret was answering your phone later that night.
It was hours after Sunghoon called you. Jongseong was more of a texter, so you were surprised when his caller ID flashed across your screen. It was definitely not a reasonable hour for a high school student to be out and about, but nothing could have prepared you for what you heard on the other side of the line.
Jongseong was sobbing. 
The sound chilled you to the bone. You never heard Jongseong cry, but this didn’t feel normal; this cry was frantic and mangled, like he was spiraling out of control. 
“Y/N, you have to come over quickly,” Jongseong begged through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“Jongseong, calm down. Tell me what’s happening.”
“You have my location, right? Just hurry. Please.” And he hung up. 
In a daze, you called Jaeyun and asked him to pick you up. 
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“I really think we should just call the cops,” Jaeyun offered, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jongseong, but this sounds sketchy, Y/N.”
Pitted fear festered in your throat. You knew something was off, but you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Jongseong, too. You had gotten so used to not being alone that you were paranoid of returning to having no one. 
“Call them as soon as we get there,” you said. “I just need to make sure Jongseong’s okay.” 
Jaeyun pressed his lips into a thin, grim line, but he kept driving. 
It was a port that Jongseong’s location directed you to, and discomfort crept into your limbs as soon as Jaeyun pulled into the area. Maybe you should’ve stayed back where it was safer and let the police handle everything, but you must have been a fool. It was just that Jongseong’s cries echoed in your head whenever you started having second thoughts.
You could hear him before you saw him.
Jongseong’s soft sobs could be heard from behind a metal storage unit, and you and Jaeyun inched closer carefully after getting out of the car. Your heart dropped to your stomach; you were dreading the worst, and when you turned the corner into the closed area Jongseong was in, you realized that the sight before you was the worst it could get. 
Sunghoon’s body.
You waited for his chest to rise, but not even a shallow breath escaped his blue-tinged lips.
It took you a moment to reorient yourself and realize that Sunghoon wasn’t just passed out, he was dead. 
You saw the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his torso, staining his white shirt, but you wanted to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. You convinced yourself that Sunghoon was going to get up any second now and start laughing, and then Jongseong would join in and tell you it was all a joke. 
But that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t fear that overtook you—not an overwhelm of emotion—it was numbness. You stared at Sunghoon’s body as he bled out onto the concrete, blood pooling into the cracks in the ground. You felt an odd sort of disconnect. 
You tilted your head to see Sunghoon’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His blank eyes just stared into nothingness, and you realized that you would never get to see Sunghoon’s warm, sincere gaze ever again. You were never going to see his bright smile. You were never going to hear his contagious laugh. You were never going to read the wonderful stories he wrote. 
You supposed your life was always meant to be a tragedy. 
“H-Hoon?” Jaeyun choked up behind you. He was staring down at Sunghoon’s lifeless body in horror before his expression was slowly replaced with anger. “Jongseong, what the hell did you do?!”
“It was self-defense, man,” Jongseong whimpered out before his body was racked with sobs again. “He pulled a knife on me out of nowhere. I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Sunghoon.
“Come on, guys,” Jongseong pleaded. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen now; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” You didn’t know what he was getting at until he requested the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”
You wanted to puke. You eyed the shiny metal soaked in blood that Jongseong was clutching. You were never going to see Sunghoon again. You were never going to hang out with him over the weekend. You were never going to hear his voice again. 
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “What the fuck are you gonna do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just killed someone! This is on you, Jongseong, not us!”
“Are you going to help me get rid of it or not?!” Jongseong tugged at his hair. “Just help me throw him off the dock, and we can all walk away from this.”
You watched helplessly, horror-stricken. “I… I can’t.”
“The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” Jaeyun countered with stony eyes. “They’re gonna catch you.”
Jongseong looked terrifyingly pale. You wondered if it was just the glow of the moon, or if he was also holding in his urge to puke. “I’ll just cut his stomach so he sinks.”
Disgusted, Jaeyun scowled. “You’re a monster.”
You watched as Jongseong tried hauling Sunghoon’s body before giving up and dragging him by the legs. You shot Jaeyun a warning look, mouthing for him to call the police before Jongseong noticed. He lingered back to do so while you followed Jongseong to plead him to stop. His arms gave out as soon as he stepped onto the planks, and he let Sunghoon’s lower half collapse onto the solid wood. 
“Y/N, help me cut open his stomach,” he ordered, hardly sparing you a glance. If he did, he would have seen how horrified you were.
“Oh,” you said, voice wavering, “that’s… that—that’s his…” 
“Y/N, help me.”
“Jongseong,” you begged, “please… please stop.”
He paid you no attention, though. You felt ghastly as Jongseong used a paring knife to make an incision on Sunghoon’s stomach. The smell was putrid. You screwed your eyes shut as the metallic smell of blood invaded your nostrils. Your nausea plunged into your gut, and you had to fight the pervasive urge to hurl.
A stream of Sunghoon’s blood made its way to your shoes, staining the soles. 
Jongseong was cutting your old best friend open. 
The dread had kept you numb for this long, but it was when reality settled in that you finally lost it. You couldn’t handle it anymore and pitched forward over the edge of the dock, throwing up until you were heaving up bile. You sobbed through it all, mournful and low, and your friend paid you no attention while he was cutting through flesh. 
When Jongseong was done, he wiped at his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood. Sunghoon’s blood. You stared at him, and you had never been more terrified of him in your life. 
And then you really noticed Jongseong. You noticed how Sunghoon’s blood was coated all over his hands, how he hardly had any scratches or bruises on his body, how merciless his eyes were as he stared down at his old best friend. 
The realization that washed over you was frightening. 
“Sunghoon didn’t actually try to kill you, did he?” you managed to warble out. “You killed him yourself.”
A deep silence from him followed—heavy and wretched. Sunghoon’s blood was so dark that it nearly looked black under the dim light, and you could only stare helplessly until Jaeyun made his way to the dock, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. 
Jongseong turned to you and Jaeyun, clutching his knife tightly. You could hardly recognize the boy in front of you. You never truly understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until you saw the crazed look in Jongseong’s eyes—cold and haunting. 
Jaeyun’s eyes glistened with tears and his throat was thick with emotion when he said, “Jongseong, please—just hang on and… and we can talk this out.” 
The hand gripping his knife started shaking. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You guys won’t snitch on me, right?” When there was no response from you or Jaeyun, Jongseong’s desperation grew stronger. He turned to you with his eyes big and terrified. “Y/N, come on, we’ve known each other for years. You know I—”
“Shut up!” Jaeyun yelled. His protective grip on you tightened. “Cut the bullshit, Jongseong. The police are gonna be here soon, and they’re gonna take you straight to prison once they see what you did to Hoon.”
It was like a switch flipped in him. A distant part of your mind wondered if you could get everyone out of this—somehow bring Sunghoon back and go back to your normal life—but you immediately shut down that fantasy as soon as Jongseong’s eyes darkened. 
In the darkness, you could make out an amused expression on his face. His smile took on a cold edge. 
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll just have to get rid of you two before the police get here, then.”
You felt like your world slowed. Your eyes burned with the threat of tears. You could tell Jongseong was walking closer to you while Jaeyun was desperately trying to tug you and get you to run, but you were frozen in place. You wanted to believe that your old friend wouldn’t actually hurt you, but then you didn’t know what to think when he raised his knife. 
It had all happened so fast. Too fast. 
In your brief struggle as Jongseong tried to stab you, you heard a sharp gasp that tore you from your haze, like you had just been drenched in cold water. Brutally sober. You tried to push Jongseong off of you, but he was too heavy, too limp. Jaeyun shouldered his way between you two and shoved Jongseong back, grimacing when his skull hit the wood with a thud. 
You heard one last, strangled gasp from Jongseong before he stopped breathing. The last star in his eyes twinkled until it dimmed for good. 
Jongseong laid flat on the dock with his knife piercing his chest.
As you heard police sirens go off in the distance, Jaeyun wrapped his arms around you before you finally broke down into his chest. 
Your best friends were dead and your world was broken beyond repair. 
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“So, it was self-defense?” Detective Lee asked, his piercing eyes boring right into yours. “Purely accidental? You had no intention of harming Park Jongseong?”
You shook your head. “I still couldn’t process the fact that he killed Sunghoon, so I didn’t think he’d actually try to hurt me.”
You wanted to cry. You bit your chapped lip, but all you could taste was blood that you doubted was even there. You couldn’t even say Sunghoon’s name without seeing that radiant smile of his stained with deep red. 
You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I see Jaeyun now?”
Detective Lee eyed you for a moment. Finally, you saw some sort of sympathy in his gaze, although you felt sort of repulsed that you were being pitied in this state. The detective muttered something about him being back later, and he left the interrogation room, leaving you handcuffed to the table. 
A minute passed by. Another. Several more. 
You were pretty sure it had been at least an hour or two of staring at the wall, but the passage of time felt meaningless now. You could wait hours, even days, but you didn’t think you would ever be ready to confront what cruel reality awaited you. 
You were so tired of everything, so exhausted that you didn’t even think about your parents until now. Were they here? Were they informed about your arrest? They must have been worried sick all night. 
When the door opened, your head shot up. 
“You’re free to go, Y/N,” Detective Lee said, pulling out a key to uncuff you from the table. 
You were frozen. You just stared up at Detective Lee with your jaw hung open. 
“I know this took awhile, but there was no security footage at the scene to confirm your story,” he elaborated. “But your stories matched up, and we found more evidence in the trunk of Jongseong’s car that he had been planning this murder.” 
He helped you to your feet and escorted you out of the room. You were able to pick up everything they took from you before you were locked up in the holding cell—your keys, wallet, and your phone. Then, you were taken to the waiting room where your parents were seated at the far end. 
At the sight of you, they all but leapt from their seats to rush over, hands cupping your face and arms embracing your weak, battered figure. There was so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their daughter replaced any anger they had toward the situation. However, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up getting an earful the next day. 
“Mom, Dad,” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You were immediately aware of how weak and pathetic you felt. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” your father silenced you by rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Jaeyun’s family wanted us to let you know that he’s okay, too. They just took him home about ten minutes ago.”
You were slightly disappointed. Part of you was hoping that he would wait for you, but you figured Jaeyun’s family would have wanted to go home right away. You definitely would have felt better if you got to see your boyfriend in the flesh to make sure he was alive and well, but you weren’t going to complain now. 
There was still a ghost of a smile on your lips as your parents walked you to their car. They gushed and gushed about how glad they were about you being safe and sound, and about how they never would’ve expected Jongseong of all people to end up being a murderer.
You were happy to be alive, of course, but you felt so empty. 
You pulled out your phone to try and text Jaeyun, but, as you thought, it was dead. 
“Mom, can I use your phone?” you asked, and you dialed Jaeyun’s number immediately as soon as she handed it to you. You had it memorized because it was a combination of numbers that was fairly easy to remember. 
It rang four times, and by the fifth ring, you were scared that he wouldn’t pick up. But then, it beeped.
“Hello?” Jaeyun answered. “Who is this?”
It was like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders once you heard his voice. Despite Detective Lee informing you that Jaeyun was, indeed, alive, you felt more reassured hearing it from your boyfriend himself. You wanted to cry then and there, but you didn’t want to make your parents worry unnecessarily. 
You forgot you were even supposed to respond when Jaeyun spoke again, “Is anyone there?”
“Jaeyun, it’s me,” you mumbled softly. “Y/N.”
You heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Jaeyun gave you the breakdown of how his experience went, which took a completely different turn than yours. After receiving medical attention, they brought him back to his holding cell to sleep for hardly a few hours. The detective interrogating Jaeyun tried to build trust with him, telling him they wanted to help and just needed his confession. They lied about already having evidence that he killed Jongseong, but Jaeyun denied it and told them the whole story. He was only free to leave after they cross-examined his story with yours. 
“Jesus,” you whispered into the phone, breathing out a small laugh. By now, you were already parked at your house and walking to your front door. “This is so fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but we’ll get through it.”
“Yeah, Jae. Us against the world.”
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Sim Jaeyun spent nine hours being questioned by authorities. 
He knew the nature of the crime that occurred was complex, and he was still reeling from the loss and betrayal that left a deep wound in his chest, but there was something that terrified him still. 
It wasn’t the murderous look in Park Jongseong’s eyes, or the blood completely drained from Park Sunghoon’s face. 
Rather, what scared Jaeyun the most was that he spent so long pining after you and getting to know you at a deeper level. He genuinely fell hard for you, even though you had monsters in the closet. He thought he knew almost everything about you, like how you were a terrible liar. 
Yet, you had just lied about everything that went down last night for nine hours straight. 
What scared Jaeyun the most was how clueless he had been about who you really were.
Truthfully, he was also in the wrong for going along with your lie. It was definitely going to bite him back one day. In the moment, though, he was far too much of a coward to go against you. Although he was able to get Jungwon the justice he deserved and allowed his family to finally be at peace with answers, Jaeyun still felt horrible. He just remembered the desperate look in your eyes as your face and hands were stained with blood, begging him to protect you. 
Jaeyun’s downfall must have been that he liked you too much to say no.
It was true that Jongseong called you in a panic, begging you to show up at the port as quickly as possible, and it was true that you wanted Jaeyun to drive you there instead of calling the cops first. 
Jaeyun knew deep down that you were making the wrong choice, but he had hope that you knew what you were doing. Truthfully, although he liked you a lot, he was still wary about how you felt toward Sunghoon. He just couldn’t understand how you were still unconsciously protecting him after hearing what happened to Jungwon. He knew that you wanted answers, but Jaeyun was worried about how you’d react once you got them. 
The real story—the one neither of you told the detectives—never started with Park Jongseong killing Park Sunghoon.
It really started when you and Jaeyun arrived at the port to see that no one was around. It was eerily quiet, and Jaeyun was starting to regret not turning around and heading straight for the police station. When you two got out of the car, you walked several feet down the line of shipping containers before returning to Jaeyun with a confused look on your face.
“I don’t see either of them,” you said, but then your eyes grew unfocused as you stared at something—or, rather, someone—behind Jaeyun. 
He turned around to see Jongseong walking over to the two of you in a calm fashion, as if he had no other care in the world. The port was relatively an open space, so he had no idea where Jongseong could have emerged from. Jaeyun rolled his neck, more frustrated than anything. 
“Jongseong!” you called out. 
When he neared you two, Jongseong shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you brought your boyfriend.”
“What’s going on?” you urged. “Is it Sunghoon? Did something happen to him?”
“Wow, that hurts, Y/N.” Jongseong barked out a laugh, but nothing about his tone sounded sincere. “I call you in the middle of the night and all you can think about is Hoon? Wow. How do you feel about that, Jaeyun?”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just glowered. 
Nothing about this felt right. 
You stammered, “I-I just assumed—”
“Put yourself in my shoes,” Jongseong cut you off with little regard for your excuses. “Sorry to say this in front of your boyfriend, but imagine how I feel when the girl I’ve liked for years only cares about my best friend.” 
The air went still.
Your voice was barely a whisper when you asked, “Excuse me?” 
Jaeyun pursed his lips together, and, for a moment, he thought his tongue would start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Sunghoon liked the girl that Jongseong liked, and if that girl was you, then Jaeyun was worried that he already lost you. He knew for months that he would never truly have you the way he wanted. Your feelings for Sunghoon were stronger, and although Jaeyun was able to pack his insecurities into a tiny ball and shove it down his throat, it was all coming out now. 
His uneasy heart shattered into a million pieces once he caught a glimpse of your expression—hopeful and longing. And it wasn’t for Jongseong; it was for Sunghoon. 
“Now that’s a great expression,” came an overly-enthusiastic voice from Jaeyun’s right.
Park Sunghoon was leaning against one of the shipping containers, arms folded across his chest before he uncrossed them and made his way toward the three of you. He must have been hiding behind the containers this whole time because Jaeyun hadn’t seen him at all before. 
The situation was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Jaeyun wanted to shrink back when Sunghoon suddenly took great interest in him, keeping his eyes fixed on him instead of you or Jongseong. He used to have such bright and happy smiles, but, this time, Jaeyun almost thought his grin had been sliced into his face with a blade.
Sunghoon slung an arm over Jongseong’s shoulder. “Wow, Jae, now I really wanna see the look on your face when you’re in total despair,” he crooned, almost mocking. Jaeyun’s blood rushed in his ears when Sunghoon’s tongue swiped across one of his fangs. “You should’ve seen the look on Jungwon’s face.”
Jaeyun lunged before he could even think, but he stopped himself as soon as you held onto him, stopping him from hitting Sunghoon. 
And that was when he knew he already lost you. 
“Don’t,” you insisted.
“Are you serious?” he breathed out, brows knitting into a frown as he looked down at you. 
Shame clung to your throat, keeping your mouth shut, but Jaeyun was more concerned now about the sharp blade pointed at his throat.
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Jongseong had a paring knife pointed straight at him, and Sunghoon’s smile never faltered. They were clearly on the same side. There was a reason why Jeongseong never did anything about Sunghoon after killing Jungwon. 
Jaeyun felt stupid for not putting it together earlier.
“I’d listen to your girlfriend,” Jongseong warned. His voice crawled all over him, freezing Jaeyun cold to the bone. “You might as well hear us out before you die here tonight.”
“Can’t exactly let you two run off now that you know what happened to Jungwon,” Sunghoon added.
“Jungwon was our friend,” Jaeyun hissed. “He was my best friend, you sick freak! What did you do to him? Why? He’s never… he never did anything wrong!”
“You’re right. He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sunghoon confirmed, surprisingly calm and collected. “In fact, he exceeded my expectations. It was a great performance, actually.” Jaeyun clenched his fist tight—so tight that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood—and Sunghoon took notice of this with a delighted hum. “You should’ve heard him scream, Jae. I had my doubts about him at first, but when he was begging me for his life, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
You were distraught. “Sunghoon, you—”
It all happened in seconds, like a rubber band finally snapping after being stretched too thin. Jaeyun used his elbow to knock Jongseong’s arm out of the way, and he shoved Sunghoon as soon as he found an opening, driving his hands into his ribs. He heard you cry out, but Jaeyun could only see red until he was dragged back up by Jongseong, the sharp blade of the knife being pressed to his throat. 
“Stop!” you cried. “Leave Jaeyun out of this! You wanted me, right? Just let him go. Please.” 
“I don’t think so.” Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you. “You two already know too much, and Jongseong and I have been waiting for this finale for years.”
Your eyes had a faraway look in them for a moment before you turned your attention back to Jongseong. “You told me…”
“I told you that when we were fifteen, Sunghoon thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught,” Jongseong filled in the blanks for you, a haunting smile playing on his lips, “and I was in on it.”
Sunghoon tutted. “But you got it all wrong, Y/N. It wasn’t Jungwon’s murder that we were planning; it was yours.”
You looked up at him in horror.
Jaeyun struggled against Jongseong for a moment, face taut with unbridled anger. He just wanted to get to you. Get Sunghoon’s filthy hands off of you. 
“I’m a writer. I write stories,” Sunghoon continued. “Isn’t it a great twist? Convincing my childhood best friend that I loved her all this time, only to reveal that she’s gonna die at my hands.” He scoffed. “Jungwon was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was good practice. I was too careless back then. I shouldn’t have left all those drawings and papers out like that when he came over, but now I’m gonna finish the job properly.” 
Your breathing was shallow. Jaeyun could see the flood of despair racking your body with soft sobs and quick pants. Your gaze fell to the ground, and Sunghoon peered to catch a better look at you. 
“Good,” he praised. “That’s what I wanna see. Wow, that’s great, Y/N. I can’t wait to see more when—”
“Get the fuck away from her!” Jaeyun yelled, grunting when Jongseong pressed the knife harder against his supple skin. 
With an exaggerated flourish of his hands, Sunghoon raised both arms and backed up as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He wore an easygoing smile, yet something sinister was tucked behind the curve of his lips. Your inconsolable self stayed fixed in place, staring helplessly at your shoes.
“For the past two years, I’ve been isolating myself from the friend group for the sake of this story and its ending,” Sunghoon said. “I think I deserve a little fun right now, Jae.”
“Fuck you,” Jaeyun spat. “You deserve to go to Hell.”
Sunghoon took a step closer to Jaeyun, ducking his head so that they were at eye-level with each other. Jaeyun tried to struggle against Jongseong once more, but he froze when the knife pierced his skin. He felt something trickle down the column of his neck, and he soon realized it was his own blood. 
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sunghoon mocked a pout. He lowered his voice by an octave, only for Jaeyun to hear. “Competing with a childhood friend is brave, I’ll tell you that.” 
Jaeyun’s blood boiled. To his surprise, Sunghoon gestured for Jongseong to let go of him. He took the paring knife from his friend and handed it to Jaeyun. 
“Take it,” Sunghoon said. “Why don’t you try killing me? You wanna get back at me, right? I killed your best friend, after all.”
Owlish, he blinked back at Sunghoon, almost absently. Jaeyun really considered it for a moment—like, really considered it. Some part of him wanted to senselessly beat Sunghoon up until he was unrecognizable, but the morally righteous side of him knew that he could never stoop to Jongseong or Sunghoon’s level. 
Jaeyun took the knife by the handle, weighing it in his palm experimentally before chucking it away—far from both Sunghoon and Jongseong. Jaeyun was pretty sure he could overtake Jongseong if Sunghoon turned his back, but he wasn’t sure if Jongseong had another weapon up his sleeve. He heard the blade skid and scrape against the concrete, and he could only hope that Sunghoon and Jongseong being distracted by him would give you time to escape. 
But Jeongseong immediately stopped you as soon as he saw you picking up the knife, and he let go of Jaeyun to grab ahold of you. Jaeyun tried to yank Jongseong back by the back of his shirt, but Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head against the metal of one of the shipping containers.
Jaeyun’s world was thrown off-balance. The ground bounced, tilted, swayed. He was so dizzy and disoriented that he couldn’t tell if his head was spinning or if he was collapsing. 
The corners of his vision grew hazy with white splotches dancing around. Jaeyun tried hard to focus, making out some of the yelling that was going back and forth, but he couldn’t think at all when a newly-formed cut on his forehead was getting blood all over his face and hands. 
He doubled forward, falling onto his knees. Jaeyun had to stay there for a while and ride out the intense waves of vertigo until he was stable again. When the world finally returned to its normal axis and stopped bouncing under him, Jaeyun lifted his head to see you and Jongseong screaming at each other.
And Sunghoon was on the ground.
He stumbled over, and it was as if the white noise in Jaeyun’s ears had drowned out everything in the background. He couldn’t see or focus on anything except the pained look on Sunghoon’s face as the color drained from his neck. Blood was gushing from his jugular vein, and he was digging his palm into his neck to put pressure on the wound. 
“—you stabbed him!” you screamed at Jongseong. Your voice was hysterical; Jaeyun had never heard you sound so desperate, not even when he was being held at knifepoint. 
“Fuck, Y/N, I wouldn’t have hurt him if you didn’t pull on my arm!” Jongseong yelled back. He sank to the ground, simultaneously dropping the knife and dropping his head between his knees. 
The sight was miserable to watch. Jongseong wailed loud and mournful until he couldn’t take it anymore, doubling over so that he could throw up until nothing but bile was coming out. When it seemed as though he had nothing else to heave out of his stomach, Jongseong sat up for a brief moment. You and Jaeyun watched as his eyes rolled back almost instantly, falling onto his back and hitting his skull against the concrete. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him, and you two didn’t have long until he was conscious again.
Jaeyun turned his attention back to Sunghoon, watching his life bleed out of his body slowly. For some reason, an odd disconnect came over Jaeyun, and he bent down to help apply pressure over Sunghoon’s wound. At first, Sunghoon gritted his teeth, but even he knew when to accept help when it was needed. 
Sim Jaeyun was pretty sure he was broken beyond belief by now, but it was impossible for him to ignore someone who was dying right before him. 
Even if he murdered Jungwon. 
“Y/N, we need to get him to a—” 
Jaeyun cut himself off when he looked up at you to see that your expression had changed. Something was different. You looked like numbness had seeped into your body, coiling around your heart until you couldn’t feel anything. The way you looked down at Jongseong, clutching his knife tightly, made Jaeyun worry.
“Y/N,” Jaeyun said again—slower, “whatever you’re thinking… please put it down.”
It didn’t seem like you were listening, though. Almost as if your body and brain were at two different places. 
“Y/N—” Jaeyun shuddered when you brought the knife down, driving it straight into Jongseong’s chest. 
Jaeyun’s stomach lurched. He watched as Jongseong struggled for his life, hardly conscious as you repeatedly stabbed him over and over again until Jaeyun was yelling at you to stop. He was sure he would never be able to close his eyes again without hearing Jongesong’s blood-curdling screams and seeing Sunghoon’s face drained of color. 
“Wow,” Sunghoon choked out. One last amused look crossed his face before it fell apart painfully. “I told you, Jae, there’s no competing with a childhood best friend.” Jaeyun flushed with anger, but it dissolved quickly when he realized Sunghoon’s breathing got slower, shallower. The look on his face was one of someone accepting their untimely death. “Thanks for the show, though.”
In his arms, Sunghoon took his last breath and went still.
It wasn’t grief that Jaeyun felt. It was something far greater.
“Jaeyun, I—I didn’t mean to,” you sobbed out, shakily holding up your bloodstained hands. “It was self-defense! I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me, and then he… he killed Sunghoon. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” You exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just stared at you in disbelief. 
“Come on, Jae,” you pleaded. Oh, so it was Jae now. “You have to help me get rid of their bodies. I can’t go to prison!”
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “Y/N, they’re dead! We have to tell the police everything. I mean, what are you gonna do when your prints match?”
Your lips pressed together in a grim line. “Your prints are on the knife, too.”
Were you blackmailing him? Jaeyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He never expected you, of all people, to be the one to throw him under the bus like this. He had trusted you with his life before, and you threw it all away in seconds. 
“Are you going to help me or not?” You looked toward the dock over the water. It was a good enough distance for you to drag Sunghoon and Jongseong’s bodies over to, but Jaeyun sure as hell didn’t want to get involved. “Just help me throw them in the water, and we can both walk away from this, Jae. We can go back to our lives, okay?”
He shook his head sadly. You just sounded like a stranger to him. 
“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, tears stinging his eyes, “please stop this. You have to turn yourself in.”
But his resolve was shaky. Jaeyun knew that he would still be booked once they found his prints at the scene, and there was no telling what you would do to protect yourself. By now, Jaeyun wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow pushed the crime onto him. 
“Jae, listen to me,” you insisted. Your eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Jaeyun couldn’t help but think you looked a little crazed. “We can both get out of this, but you have to help me out here. We’re gonna tell them that Jongseong killed Sunghoon before we got here, and then he chased us until we ended up stabbing him out of self-defense. I mean, that’s all this was, anyway! It was self-defense!”
A distant part of Jaeyun’s mind wondered what happened to you. He wondered if you had always been this way, perhaps keeping it tucked away. In the end, you were still trying to protect Sunghoon in your own way. You were still trying to protect some fragment of his golden image.
“It’s you and me,” you whispered, kneeling down by your boyfriend’s side until you were cupping his face with your hands, staining his cheeks with Jongseong’s blood, “the two of us against the world.”
Just hours ago, Sim Jaeyun looked at you like you were his entire world.
And now, with your bloodstained hands holding his face, there was unmistakable fear behind his eyes as he looked up at you.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end !! i would lovee for you to guys to share what you thought, but just to point a few things out, jake's pov was the unfiltered version of what went down that night. the dialogue from mc is similar to jongseong's because while she painted him out to be the villain in the end to protect sunghoon, it was really her who said those things. originally this had a happier ending but i'm a lot more satisifed with this one actually. i hope you guys liked it !! <3 also i am deciding against using my permanent tag list this time because i haven't used it in a year and don't know if anyone exactly signed up to read horror 🧎‍♀️
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kiame-sama · 2 months ago
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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem! Reader) Monster AU pt 10
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(Ruggie is a Gnoll and can switch between bipedal and quadruped locomotion as easily as most people breathe. Any scent of food or the sound of someone eating something draws in Ruggie to investigate to see if he can have a snack or get some scraps from whoever is eating. Leona is usually the one that feeds Ruggie the most, so he has earned Ruggie's loyalty. The fastest way to befriend a Gnoll is through food.)
Warnings; Yandere, Yandere behavior, multiple Yanderes at different Yandere stages/levels, Romantic and Platonic Yanderes, smothering behavior, blood, mention of menstrual cycle, blood consumption, Crow, Selkie, Sphinx, Shadow-man, Minotaur, Vampire bat, Dragon, Grim, Shinigami, Harpy,
Note; Ortho is STRICTLY platonic.
~~~~~~~~
It was dark and well before those first few rays of light were to peak over the horizon. It had been thirteen days since the Human had arrived in Twisted Wonderland and already a representative had arrived from at least seven different Kingdoms and Queendoms as well as a few scientists. Crowley had managed to convince them to wait a few more days, but the many Kingdoms and Queendoms were eager to confirm there was a Human and confirm they were being treated well.
The several staff members were sitting in the Crow's office as they all contemplated what to do with the arrival of the representatives. None of them wanted the Human taken away from them or from Night Raven College grounds. In the next few days they would have to ensure nothing harmed or unsettled their Human before the representatives arrived. This would prove difficult given the already obvious interest almost all of their students had taken in the abnormal Human.
That wasn't even the worst of their troubles, however.
"And you are certain our (Y/n) has imprinted on Grim?"
"Absolutely certain. She was stressed after waking from the injury and overblot, but she was more distressed over being unable to find Grim and only calmed once he was reunited with her. According to the other students she even threw young Riddle after he targeted Grim in his Feral state which is what lead to her injury."
"Then he can't be removed from her side any longer. My memories of Humans are old, but I do know Humans- especially the young bearers- take guarding those they imprint upon rather seriously. There will be questions to the potential threat Grim poses to (Y/n), he is a forest creature of unknown type and origin. We can't guarantee he is safe to keep around her, but we can't remove him either without a catastrophic response from (Y/n)."
Divus frowned at the memory, displeased to have not even a full week pass before the Human had been injured by a Feral student. Not to mention said Feral student was supposed to be the safest bet for a guard for the Human. Still, despite what had happened it had proved that the collar worked to some degree and that many of the student body was willing to protect the soft Human.
"In any case," Trein began, lifting his tea cup to take a long sip before setting back on the table, "there are several issues with her dorm that need to be addressed. Not to mention the fact that she has a rather limited wardrobe given her very recent arrival. The representatives will be looking at all of these things, from safety, to general happiness, to even her diet. If we are to keep her here, we will need to address everything before the representatives arrive."
Of course, most things were still being figured out as it had only been a little under two weeks since that fateful day. There was very little time now and they would have to pull several Housewardens from classes to aid in resolving these issues.
"I can handle the clothing issue, I will be pulling those two Pomefiore pups to aid in my pursuits. I have little doubt Vil and Rook will prove to be useful in my endeavors."
"Good idea. While you work on that, I can begin discussions with Mr. Ashengrotto as to the state of the building. Dubious as his dealings may be, he is a valuable resource."
Most issues they faced could be solved within the timeframe they had been presented with especially given the fondness their students had for the soft Human. The only issue that was most prevalent in that moment was the Dragon-sized problem of Malleus Draconia. He was a fantastic guard, but who knew how he would react to the idea of the representatives potentially trying to take this Human away from him and NRC.
"The question that remains is this; do we tell Birar Valley's prince and heir apparent to the throne Malleus, or do we try to keep him away from the representatives?"
Sam's question did bring up a very valid issue as they all knew Malleus had claimed their dear Human as a member of his Hoard. Dragons were notorious for having an ill temper towards anyone or anything that may threaten that Hoard. Beyond even the representatives, there were the many scientists from across the vast lands of Twisted Wonderland that wanted to get a good look at the Human and study her. Malleus would never allow such an intrusive and inquisitive bunch to poke or prod at his Human for long.
"Perhaps his handler can address that for us? Mr. Vanrouge has been quite adept at keeping Mr. Draconia peaceful despite a Dragon's natural temper and pride."
"Brilliant idea, Mozus. Ashton, you will be in charge of telling Mr. Vanrouge our plans and keeping him up to date with the impending arrival of our visitors. Sam, I trust you can handle the food situation? Shadowfolk are the next most culinary adept species after Humans."
Sam nodded, already looking at his own stock and comparing it with his most recent visit to (Y/n)'s kitchens. He would ensure to get a wider variety of spices and foods not typical to the broader student pallet, perhaps this Human could even surprise him in the kitchen. Despite the woefully short timeframe they had thanks to Cater's lack of discretion, it seemed like there was at least a chance at keeping the Human.
"Besides, if all else fails and they try to take her, we just set Mr. Draconia loose on them and they will either concede or fall."
~•§•~
You awoke to an unusual sensation on your neck. It was still dark outside but the faintest of light blue began to bleed into the sky as you slowly regained consciousness. The feeling on your neck was an odd one as it seemed like a mouth was nuzzled against your skin and slowly dragging a pair of soft lips over your pulse. Something about the almost unconscious movements confused you as you were usually the one cuddling, not the other way around.
The pair of black and pink wings told you who it was laying behind you and you vaguely wondered why Lilia had been drawn to your side as you slept. He had been the least problematic of your guards during your several days long stint with your own hormonal cycle, so you weren't particularly annoyed that he was holding you. Sure, the lack of personal space was wearing on you but supposedly your nestmates were going back to Diasomnia for the week.
In some ways you wondered if you would miss the group you had grown accustomed to and vaguely worried about getting to sleep without them. As odd as it was, there was a great comfort to having the four monsters sleeping by your side. You certainly never complained about the absolute warmth and comfort that was cuddling with Silver. Maybe you could convince one or two of the four to sleep in the nest whenever you felt lonely.
The soft growl of a stomach interrupted your thoughts as the sound had come from Lilia and you vaguely considered getting up to cook. It was far too early for your tastes, but something about the Bat's hunger made you feel on edge. Perhaps it was the way he unconsciously mouthed at your neck that gave you such an unsettled feeling. Perhaps it was the fact he had you wrapped up securely in his wings.
"Lilia," you whispered, trying to rouse the Bat without rousing your other nestmates, "you're getting a bit too nibbly there."
The Bat made an almost whining sound at your attempts to wake him, his wings tightening their hold around you and a soft mumble coming from him. You could feel his lips move against your neck more than you could hear him, unable to understand what he mumbled.
"Lilia-"
A startled yelp left your lips now as those pointed teeth of his dragged a bit too roughly against your neck for comfort. The sound rousing all of your nestmates rather quickly. You could see the way the eyes of the four men and one cat-beast snapped open and seemed to glow in the low light, reminding you of crocodiles, cats, and other predatory animals. It was surreal to see how quickly they woke as Lilia actually moved in a protective stance over you.
There was a moment of quiet as they took stock of their surroundings and their alert stress turned to confusion as they looked back at you. From their understanding, there was nothing they could find that could have caused you to cry out. You, however, were quick to touch your neck where the Bat had been mouthing and found he had not broken skin but the area he nipped was raised and irritated.
"(Y/n)," Lilia started, looking down at you as his wings lowered, "what's wrong?"
"You just bit me."
"Did I?"
Lilia seemed genuinely surprised at your words as he quickly examined where you had been touching your neck. Sure enough, there were two scrapes along where his fangs would have sat had he been mouthing the area. The hunger within him told him what information was missing as he sighed and moved from on top of you. He would have rathered you learn of his dietary needs in a less stress-inducing manner, but his own hunger had unconsciously acted for him.
"I'm sorry, (Y/n). It seems my instincts were getting the better of me."
"Instincts?"
"I'm what we call a Vampire Bat Fae, unlike many other Bat folk, my kind has a certain... Dietary need that we have to satisfy once in a while."
"Satisfy how?"
"I need blood. Specifically I need to drink blood. Usually Silver helps me with this 'craving' but even Malleus or Sebek have offered in the past."
"Like... From a cup?"
"No, the blood coagulates and clots too quickly in a cup. I have to drink from the source or the blood needs an anticoagulant- which rarely tastes good- for me to consume it from a cup."
You stared at the Bat Fae as he explained his actions to you, almost seeming upset with himself. They made enough sense that you vaguely wondered why he would keep such a thing secret from you. Vampire Bats existed in your world and though you weren't overly familiar with the species you knew even the little Bats of your world needed to consume blood.
"Why were you only at my neck then?"
"Well, as morbid as it may sound, your blood has a very appealing scent to me. I assume I unconsciously gravitated towards you due to your recent- and pardon me for saying this- bleeding cycle. The lingering scent of blood on you likely drew me in."
Some part of you wanted to snap at the Bat for trying to bite you, even if it was unconscious. Another part of you wanted to allow the hungry Bat to take a quick drink despite your reservations as a way to somewhat repay him. Lilia had been your original chosen guard and he had more than earned his keep given how many students and poachers alike he had driven off. Perhaps the Bat did deserve something for his efforts in protecting you.
"How much do you need?"
"A mouthful or two. Luckily I don't need to feed on blood often or in large amounts, just every now and again to make up the vitamins I can't gain from my food."
"... Do you want to drink my blood?"
"Not if it makes you uncomfortable. You are proving to be quite precious to me and an integral part of this Hoard, I would hate to drive you off for something as simple as blood."
You considered his words for a moment, staring at him as your hand rest over your neck where he had scraped his fangs against you. Sure, you just lost a good level of blood already thanks to your cycle, but maybe you could let the Bat take just a bit more. Out of those who seemed to gravitate towards you, Lilia had been the most reliable and the one to explain quite a bit to you when you didn't understand the ways of these monster men.
"... Will it make you happy?"
"What?"
"To feed on my blood. Would that make you happy and help you be content with your life?"
Lilia stared for a long moment, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were asking him. He did worry about saying the wrong thing if you were testing him for aggressive thoughts or behavior, but part of his brain insisted that he be honest with you.
"Yes. It will make me happy, but I still don't need to feed specifically from you if you are uncomfortable with that. Would I like to? Absolutely. I would consider myself somewhat of a gourmand when it comes to the taste of blood and your blood is very interesting to me. Would I take if it wasn't offered? I would try not to, but we both see how my instincts control the way I unconsciously act."
"Will it hurt?"
"Not horribly. I won't lie to you and say it is painless, but it is not as painful as an axe in the arm."
You almost snorted at this response, still feeling the dullest of throbs from your recently healed injury. Really, you had been so stressed and upset over potentially losing Grim that you barely felt any pain until it was already over and even then you were given pain management. At least Lilia didn't seem keen to lie to you about it.
"... Go ahead."
"(Y/n)?"
"Take a drink, Lilia. Either we all get up now so you can find blood somewhere else, or I give you blood now and I can get a few more hours of sleep."
"I want to make sure you are serious, (y/n). I don't want this to be a spur of the moment decision."
"I know. I am serious. Take a drink, Lilia. You're probably the one I would consider to be one of my first friends and you haven't complained even once about my attitude. That matters to me and is important to me. You are important to me."
Lilia gave a genuine smile at this, hugging you quickly. He had hoped you would be willing to share some of your sweet smelling blood with him and your approval now could mean you would let him take more drinks in the future. Naturally, Lilia didn't plan to force you to share with him, but he certainly wasn't upset you were willing to let him take a drink.
"Let me know if it hurts too much and I will stop. Okay?"
You nodded, staying still as the Bat moved behind you in a mimicry of how you had awoken. His wings wrapping around you as if he intended to cuddle you as he rest his mouth over your pulse. It was unnerving in some way to think about letting the Bat latch on to your neck and consume your blood, but you were being honest when you said his wellbeing mattered to you. Lilia was a good guard and a good friend despite everything that had happened.
"Hey, Bat-wings, don't hurt my Hooman, okay? I'm not gonna lose her, no matter what, so you better be careful."
"I know. I will try to not harm her."
Grim nodded, still seeming stressed with the situation as Lilia hummed. The Bat had easily found the ideal spot to bite, but he seemed to be taking his time either to try and soothe you or to make sure he has control of himself before actually biting. It would be a lie to say you didn't tense up somewhat when those fangs teased your skin.
"Child of man, if you need a distraction or to be soothed, I am content to speak with you."
"I- ah!"
You yelped again as those fangs sunk in and the bat began to nurse at the wound gently. He was clearly trying to be as gentle as possible and not move too much or drink too quickly as it would move his fangs in your skin. It was not pleasant by any means but you trusted Lilia to not take more than he needed.
"I think- ngh- I think you need a new name, Malleus."
"Is my current one insufficient?"
"No, I just think- ah- you could use a nickname. Something short and- and not so lofty."
"If that will appease you. I am eager to know what name you believe fits me most."
"Like M-Mal or Tsuno, or-!"
You fought to keep your hands from reaching up to where Lilia nuzzled against your neck, your own instincts upset with you at allowing such a creature to bite you. It was vaguely disturbing to feel the way he pulled back, his fangs sliding out of your neck with a little too much ease. His warm tongue made quick work of licking over the wound to catch whatever else spilled out as he wasn't keen to waste the delicious flavor.
"I am somewhat partial to Tsuno, perhaps Tsunotaro?"
"... The point of a nickname is to be shorter than your actual name. Tsunotaro is longer than Malleus."
"Tsuno works. As close to my name as Mal is, a new name certainly wouldn't be amiss."
Lilia hummed and used his magic to summon what appeared to be a bandage of some kind. He happily set to work cleaning and covering up the bite-mark as you tried to keep yourself focused on your conversation with Malleus. It was odd to be a blood-bag for the unusual Bat and to be somewhat bullying a literal Dragon into letting you give him a nickname, but your life has been odd since you woke in the coffin.
For now, it wasn't too much of a weight to bear.
~•§•~
The early morning meeting was well underway as it was akin to a mulligan from their meeting several days ago. Again, the Dragon was invited to the meeting and again the two dorm leaders of Ignihyde showed up to make the switch. Given the earlier meeting between the staff members, this hand-off needed to go without a hitch. Almost everyone was stressed as the Dragon walked into the room, his cloak sweeping behind him as his fellow guards walked the treasure they protected into the room as well.
You seemed tired, but still dressed in your uniform as you held Grim close to your chest. He was happily laying in your arms and snacking on what remained of the breakfast burrito you had thrown together that morning for breakfast. The scent drew a few jealous looks, but word of Grim's importance to you travelled quickly. Even Leona knew better than to try and bully the little cub-like monster out of his meal, lest the cub's mother react poorly.
For some of the Housewardens, seeing this odd creature was still a very surreal experience as she was an extinct species so casually attending their school. For one of them, it was his first time officially meeting the Human face to face. Idia really didn't consider the small amount of time spent in the Human's dorm as an official meeting and he was somewhat hoping the Human didn't remember his panicked sprint into her kitchen. He hoped the other Housewardens that had also sprinted to her dorm distracted from him as he wanted a mostly clean slate for their official meeting.
"Good morning, my precious little chick! Did you sleep well?"
"Well enough. Do we really have to switch out who lives in the dorms with me? I just got used to these guys..."
"Yes, we really do. Besides, it isn't all bad, the Housewardens were chosen for a reason and I have faith you will be protected! It's the Housewardens and teachers that are notified by your collar in the situation you are injured or attacked, you can trust them to protect you."
"If you say so..."
Your less than excited attitude towards the situation put your faithful Dragon on edge as well as several of the other Housewardens. They all wanted a chance to get to know you and be around you, only really knowing your species through rumor and myth, but they didn't want to cause you genuine distress. Idia was especially unnerved as he wanted to make your acquaintance and be your friend despite his severe lacking of social skills. He had hoped Ortho would be a good buffer as his younger brother was much more cheerful than he was.
"Don't worry, Nee-san! Nii-san and I will make sure you are safe and feel comfortable while we guard you!"
"I'm sure you will..."
"Oh, Nee-san, this is Idi-nii! My big brother."
Idia almost ran the moment your eyes landed on him and actually looked at him the way he looked at you so often through the many cameras he had around NRC. You could see him and perceive him where he had been the only one to see and perceive in the past. Always watching, yet never watched until now.
"Eep! She's looking at me... What do I do? Ortho, help!"
"Introduce yourself, silly!"
"I'm... Idia Shroud... Ortho's big brother and Housewarden of Ignihyde... Why is this so hard?"
"You're doing fine, Idi-nii."
He almost screamed as you walked over to him, looking at his bright flaming hair and making him want to sink into the chair or disappear behind a screen once more. As you observed him and the way he squirmed under your gaze, Vil scoffed loudly.
"I knew he didn't have it in him. He can't even talk to us, why would anyone think he can talk to her? Does anyone genuinely think Idia could even fight when push comes to shove?"
"Hey," you interrupted with a frown, seeing as Idia wouldn't argue with Vil regardless of what Vil said or did, "leave him alone. He is here, isn't he? That's more than most could say. You can act the act and talk the talk, but why do you feel the need to put him down? Does it make you feel better to know you can easily do something he struggles with?"
Vil scoffed again and looked away from you, wanting to argue with you but also wanting to stay in your good graces. Despite how Vil felt the others had no right to be in your presence, he wasn't going to drive you away from himself by speaking his mind. The actor knew better than to speak until he had you alone and held within his own talons.
"You really don't have to do that... It's the way they all act with me. You don't-"
"Don't care."
"Ghk-!"
"Just because you let them treat you that way doesn't mean I will let them treat you that way. You're my new guard for the week and you're a Housewarden, right? So, screw what they think. You have a right as much as they do. Besides, my talk with Ortho leads me to believe you are more useful to me than a lot of others could be."
"H-how?"
"I want to play videogames. I loved my videogames back in my world. It feels like no one else plays and I want to play even for just a little bit. It is easier to stave off the feeling of pressure and the stressors of life with a controller or keyboard in hand. Help me forget I am somewhere far from home, okay?"
Idia slightly perked up at this, hearing you talk about using videogames to escape certain aspects of life. He had done it himself so many times that he almost began to believe he was alone in this avoidant behavior because it seemed like everyone else didn't need that escape the same way he did.
"You... Game?"
"Yes, and I have been twelve or thirteen days and counting without playing. This makes me incredibly upset. I have classes today, so I can't play right now, but I would like to have access to a gaming system even if this cursed place doesn't have the games I'm used to. Can you help me with that?"
"Yes."
"Good, then we have nothing else to worry about right now. Right?"
Idia nodded, beginning to feel unusually comfortable now that he knew what it was you expected of him. It really wasn't a big ask at all and Idia had already been planning on setting up more than a few devices in your dorm. He figured it would help to keep him comfortable outside of his room and keep Ortho entertained. Neither Idia nor Ortho needed much sleep and their species was prone to spending days awake, so he wanted to make sure he and his little brother could have entertainment while you slept.
"Right. Ortho and I don't have classes today, so we can get things set up right away."
"Alright. That is what I like to hear. Can I reasonably assume things will be ready by the time my last class is over, or should I lower my expectations for getting in some gaming today?"
"I can have everything ready and set up in no time. If you wanted, you could cut out of half your classes today and start gaming before lunch."
You smiled in response to his words and for some reason it made his heart flip wildly in his chest. He liked seeing that gentle and almost sweet smile, liking it even more now that it was directed at him. Sure, he had seen it through the visor Ortho wore while you talked to the young Shinigami, but it was a whole new experience being face-to-face with you now.
"Music to my ears. Last question; what kind of foods do you like? I will be cooking for myself so I will also cook for you if you want, but I'm not a mind-reader and I have no idea what is safe for you and Ortho to eat. Especially Ortho."
"Wh-what? You're gonna cook traditional Human meals for us? Seriously?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I feed those who are protecting me?"
"This is the best day of my entire 88 year fanboy life..!"
"What?"
"Nothing. Ortho and I are gonna go set up. See you after class."
Despite how nervous Idia had been, there was something disarming about the soft Human. He was quite large in comparison to their stature, standing well above most in the school despite wishing to just disappear in the background. Even sitting he had to look down at the little Human.
Something about how soft she looked made him want to grab her and never let go, he was starting to understand why the others were acting the way they did. Something about being close to someone he considered incredibly cute and small was endearing. Actually being near this soft Human made him realize just how little she was.
"I don't know, Hooman. This one has a kinda funny look to him."
"Grim, be nice. We have to at least trust the Headmage is correct in everyone here being safe."
"Fine... But I'm not sharing the nest with him!"
"Oh, absolutely not. Malleus made that nest and only his Hoard is allowed to use it, you know that. Lilia told us the rules."
"Am I part of Tsuno's Hoard too?"
"You're part of my hoard," you kissed Grim's forehead gently and several of the onlookers felt burning jealousy, "so you count by Proxy."
Grim purred at this and you turned back to the Shinigami. He was very much an older and larger version of Ortho in terms of appearance, but obviously very different from his bold and affable little brother. Also, you heard his mumbling quite easily and that meant he was seventy-five years older than Ortho. That meant either Ortho was very smart and advanced for his young age or Idia just couldn't attend a school without someone else accompanying him.
You had also never seen this student around except for the brief passing glance when he entered your dorm several days back with the others. It was odd to you that he really didn't stand out much to you back then like he did now, but you also weren't really in the mood to entertain guests at the time. Much like Ortho, Idia had more technology on him than most students had at all and he seemed to be almost hiding behind it as he suddenly turned away in his chair seeming to try and compose himself while looking away from you and somewhat out of your sight.
It was while he was turned away that a voice unfamiliar to you spoke up.
"Crowley? It's imperative I speak with you-"
Walking into the room was a bird-man that somewhat reminded you of an owl entered the room, pausing abruptly as he noticed you staring at him curiously. He seemed to be an older Harpy man judging from his feathers and general bird-like appearance, several gray feathers grew alongside his hair and came up in two points like ears. The man seemed taken aback at your presence as he slowly set the scrolls in his hands down, seeming to study you closely as you watched him warily.
"In... In all my years... Here you are."
He gestured to you and you felt more than a little upset at the treatment. Sure, you understood they were surprised but that still didn't mean it felt very good to have someone gawk at you. You weren't a pet and you weren't some sideshow attraction.
"Here you are."
"Ambrose! This kind of casual disregard for decorum is unlike you! Explain yourself!"
Crowley was quick to get inbetween you and the newcomer, his feathers fluffed and wings somewhat raised. It was clear the Crow was blocking this Owl-man from taking too long a look at you as his wings spread and he almost seemed to caw angrily.
"Crowley, my old friend," the man paused, glancing at you and almost grimacing, "more have been spotted in the woods. It's not just trophy hunters, there are Fae among them. Townsfolk are starting to talk and the rumors at Royals Sword Academy are more than a little wild. We need to unite and discuss the-" he lowered his voice, "the Human."
"This meeting is dismissed, students. Everyone make sure to get to your classes. (Y/n), my chick, do you need a guide to class from here?"
You were about to shake your head when Vil came sweeping over, his crest up and his movements almost an exaggerated graceful motion. He seemed to be trying to show off in a way as if the presence of the two other birds made him suddenly need to present himself. It could have been your perception of the situation, but Vil almost seemed threatened by the increased avian competition and was keen to get you away from both older birds.
"I will happily show you to class, (Y/n). My class is right nearby, so I will gladly show you the way. Come now, we can't dawdle."
The Peacock was quick to herd you away from the room and the other Housewardens, ignoring the look Malleus gave him as he passed by. You wondered who that man was or what it was he was so worried about, but you knew it had something to do with you. Those games and potential earthly comforts you may be able to get from Idia seemed all the more tangible now.
All you had to do now was get through the day.
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pinkmirth · 1 year ago
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nfl reiner braun tears his alc and requests the best surgeon to work on it. he gets, youuuu, sweet smelling pink doctor coat wearing you and he can’t even take you serious when you’re going over his chart or requesting to feel the muscle with those pink gloves on. you even look younger than him and he’s telling you: “darlin’, listen… im a big deal around here and i need someone to help fix me not give me a boner.” or something like that and you almost don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the best that there’s ever been at this hospital.
RECOVERY, reiner braun !
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୨୧ — pairing: footballer!reiner braun x fem!reader
୨୧ — synopsis: this doctor’s got a hardheaded patient! it’ll take some effort to convince him of your effectiveness . . .
୨୧ — contains: ( 1.4k words of . . . ) modern au, slight nsfw (more like suggestive!), footballer!reiner, surgeon!reader, fem!reader (black coded), reiner has an ACL tear, reiner’s touch-deprived/sexually frustrated, rei’s kindaaa conceited (just a little bit!), palming, minors shoo!
୨୧ — mira’s note: ramona, my love! i adore all your reiner concepts, they’re always sooo perfect 🎀 thank youuu for sharing your rei-rei thoughts with me :) now here’s a lil drabble for my gorgeous man! (not really proofread thoroughly, i apologize for any typos or mistakes!)
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isopropyl.
it’s all that reiner can smell. he’s a healthy man, he hardly belongs here— in this chilled surgeon office with the most pale, unflattering lighting. the parchment-like exam table paper rustles beneath him with every stretch and maneuver he makes, and his weight is enough to pry a creak out of the treatment table every now and again.
a recurring clack of footsteps and the whine of the door lets reiner know that you, the ‘sexy doctor lady from earlier’ has returned from reading his screenings. he wasn’t able to catch your name amidst the splitting pain from his acl tear, so that’ll make do in the meantime.
you set down your clipboard and turn to face him. your dear patient appears a bit mussed from the big game that took place earlier— his golden hair’s all fluffy and wild, that red football uniform of his is streaked with the green of the field, and his left cheekbone got a little scratch somehow. you’ll make sure to dab that with rubbing alcohol later.
“your vitals are well above average.” you commend. his reply’s a mere grunt. he can’t bring himself to take you seriously. just fucking look at you; pink latex gloves pulled over manicured hands, welcoming eyes all doe and shiny, with a sweet glossed smile that he won’t forget for days to come. he hates having to meet such a beauty under these grim circumstances– after all, you’re the kind of woman he’d take out on a date.
“lucky for you, mister braun, your injury isn’t a complete tear . . . so your recovery time shouldn’t be too long. it’ll last about six months, give or take.”
he isn’t listening.
reiner isn’t even sure of when he began to space out; your lips are just so plush, so alluring. his surname sounds sweeter than it should when falling from your mouth. before long, you clear your throat. it’s enough to snap him out of it. “i’d appreciate your undivided attention, sir. we’re currently going over your healing plan— ”
“lemme ask you, sugar,” he interjects with a low rasp. reiner braun’s well known around these parts, and you can only assume that being such a big deal has gotten to his head. what he says next throws you off, “when’s the real doctor comin’ in, hm?” it’s hard to remain professional, but you do. no furrowed brows, no scrunched up face— nothing but a tight, forced smile.
you suck in a breath through your nose, maintaining composure. “what makes you think it isn’t me, mister braun?” he can hear the tinge of vexation in your voice. clearly, this footballer has struck a chord or two.
“you’ve got pink gloves on, barbie.” he snarks out a laugh, just a bit mean. he’s much too handsome for such a condescending tone.
you bring a gloved hand flat to his chest, pushing reiner back into the examination table. his breath catches in his throat when you knead your fingers into his thigh, right where the tear resides beneath firm muscle. you’re assertive, and goddamn, does he love it.
“i’m your doctor.” you assure, voice firm. he groans out at the calculated pressure; it feels good. makes the throb of pain fade, just a bit.
“you’ll have to put some faith in me, hm?” your tone is warm, words soft and patient in a way he doesn’t deserve. reiner can’t lie, it was crass of him to have undermined you that way.
“my apologies, doc.” he addresses you in the rightest way he can. it’s his tiny little way of making amends.
“so, how long— fuck, how long did ‘ya study for?” reiner tries for small talk, voice low and shaken. you’d like to believe that whatever left his lips just now wasn’t a moan. no, it was more like . . . a groan of pain, perhaps?
“about six years. graduated early,” no wonder you look just about his age, if not younger. all his previous doctors were just as old as his parents.
“smart and pretty, huh?” he graces you with a feeble grin, a white gleam of teeth surrounded by neatly trimmed stubble. it’s safe to say that he’s your hottest patient up to date.
you continue on with prodding into the thick meat of his left thigh, and those throaty whines of his make you feel a way you simply shouldn’t.
it’s been a while since reiner’s been touched this way. he knows it’s just a regular inspection for his stupid injury, but he can’t recall the last time a woman’s splayed their hands on his body. he’s always busy with football this, training that. there’s never any time remaining for hook-ups, talkless of a relationship. that being said, it isn’t long before he begins to grow excited.
“m— mister braun,” you call out, voice airy, “you seem a little, um . . . worked up.”
“huh?” his eyes flit up to meet yours. you lock onto his honey-brown pools of desperation.
nothing else is uttered. you wordlessly direct your gaze towards his crotch, and give him a knowing look. reiner finally catches on— he fucking knew he felt his bottoms getting tight. hesitantly, the blonde lifts his head to peer down at his pants. surely enough, a boner’s prodding at the centering cloth of his football shorts.
“goddamn,” he drops his head back onto the examination table, bashfully throwing his forearm over his eyes. humiliation eats at the proud man, reducing him to a jumble of hormones.
you can hardly bring yourself to contain your chuckle, which makes his reddened cheeks burn further. it seems that his bodily reaction to your skilled hands has given him a sense of humility at best, and embarrassment at worst.
“i’ve never been appointed to a lady before . . .” is his hushed excuse. he’s still got his eyes shielded with his arm— he can’t even fucking bear to look at you. it’ll only spur him on further.
‘i turn you on?’ is what you’re just longing to question him. you know that you do— he’s been looking at your lips with bated breath since he got here. not to mention the peeks he’d taken at your ass whenever you turned around to read his chart or grab a cotton ball.
it’s quite bold of you— more like dangerous— to bring your ministrations upwards, closer to the ache under his pants. you’d tell yourself to stay on task, but professionalism has long been thrown out the window.
your gloved hands trail mischievously, placed directly atop reiner’s hard-on. warmth radiates from your palm, and you squeeze. his eyes blink shut, hips gently bucking upwards. his tear burns from beneath his skin, but he doesn’t fucking care. he bets he could cum from your hands alone.
reiner eventually manages to pull his arm away from blocking his viewpoint, chest heaving with every passing second. if you were to use your stethoscope on him, his heartbeat would be nothing short of erratic.
“trust me, mister braun,” is your reassuring whisper, “you’re in good hands.”
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yourstrqly · 8 months ago
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✰ HELPING HANDS, LANDOSCAR
[ preview ] in which fem!reader is helping out oscar's puppy love on his teammate lando without realising the consequences
[ tw ] mostly landoscar, swear words, smut (+18) - threesome, dom!osc, switch!lando, pussy eating, missionary position, daddy +sir kink, praise kink, raw sex (use condoms, stay safe 'n clean), aftercare
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. previous | minors do not read | masterlist .
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you indeed landed in their cushy bed, just the imagination didn't match reality; in the men's eyes all of you wore too many layers of clothes (you did look hot in the retro styled mclaren shirt of lando and a pair of panties tho), slightly ruining their last resort of getting this off the table or rather in the sheets.
so unlike you, you didn't began to feel fuzzy, you just relaxed in the covers, watching in utter childlike fascination how katara from the last airbender challenged a clan master to duel right in front of a sea of strangers. "d'you reckon she'll win, little one?", lando wanted to break the case, trying to hold his cool, while quite literally hiding (and grinding) his bulge behind his partner's back as he had starred a bit too long on your plump round ass. in a world full of men and woman, he was just a man lusting after osc and you.
he couldn't help himself from growing hard — your ass poked underneath the white shirt, showing off your thick tights, he'd love to feel around his head, and those smoothly looking legs would make a suitable cage for oscar's waist, while he hovered over you, fucking you to an orgasm.
imagine, imagine.
the brit didn't know how oscar wasn't as horny as he was whilst having the front view of your body.
you groaned. "nah, yeah, I don't know but nonetheless it's a girl boss move and 'm here for it. now please shut up, lan", you begged, flitting your eyes towards his face shortly to catch him already openly glazing at you.
above all laws of relationship, lando broke the wall as his lips moved faster than his brain, declaring that she should make him shut up, tone low and suggestive, causing the room and time to freeze it seemed. "treasure", his lover gasped, eyebrows knitted as he cracked his knuckles nervously, quite shooked about the outburst.
laughing weirdly, you search for oscar's reaction, an angry gaze or unimpressed rolling of his eyes but you saw an empty face, no emotion for you read and understand. "what did you say?", the question sounded aggressive coming from you. "have you got no shame, norris?" fastly standing up your feet, you peer at osc for the second time. "I— I'll leave you alone, sorry, i—"
"there's nothing to be sorry about, sweets", the younger man instantly replied and then turned his head sideways to his partner with a grim look. "you on the other hand should be apologise to her. now, off you go." he made a hush hush gesture towards his somehow yet secret crush, observing the interaction; as lan crawled forward in your direction, you meekly held onto the small table, which presented books none of them read by the dusty looks of it and a bulky candle holder. you didn't dare to take a breath, even when lando kneeled under your nose, his fingers closing around your naked legs, and just looked up, desperate for your attention, to serve you in a way?
"is it okay for him to carry on, sweets?", oscar asked, having moved down the bed to manspread his gorgeous tights whilst you were lost in this, whatever happened. "take a breather, yeah? that's a good girl."
lando, still down for you, bat his long eyelashes at you. "please, little one, i'd do anything for you." "course you do, you're a greedy man, treasure. give him the permission to eat your kitten, hm?"
your mind must play you tricks.
"I don't understand", you finally reached your words. "you're together, i— we're friends." a nervous cough stuck in your throat. "i'm not sure this is the correct direction . ."
"ah ah ah sweets, no need to lie to yourself — this, this hasn't been a friendship for us for a while now, no?", he looked at lando's curly hair crown that shimmered under the bad lightning, getting a tiny whimmer out of the lover. "we want to add you, the feelings are there. just let us show you first and later in the morning we can do all the talking. my man is hungry for you, cant you see?"
you observe lando; his lips were already plump but now they were raw bitten and swollen, as was his length that drew though the thin material of his shorts and bend more to the left. the grip you had on the dresser grew stronger as you nod shyly, wetness polling inside your panties which lando pulled to the side, letting his tongue flicker up your slit to your clit, sucking on it harshly. moaning, a hand of yours sank in his hair, wanting him to lick you faster — you gasped, head lulling to your left shoulder and your back arched when he slowly inserted a finger, then another and third, fingering you. lando's hot tongue worked you up, circling around your throbbing clit. then a much larger hand joins yours, interlocking in the man's hair and there was the chin growth of lan, scratching your inner tights and making them shake, all while oscar smacked his lips onto yours, dragging his free hand behind your head to hold you in place, groaning as he felt a tear escaped the corner of your eye, gliding down his thumb.
"you're doing so well, sweets", he mumbled between kisses. "cum for us."
time almost seems to come to an halt as both men feel your body goes stiff, clenching around lan's fingers, pools of fire seeping low in your abdomen, steering you right off the edge whilst continuing to pump his fingers rapidly in and out of you, till you hooked your arms 'round the aussies strong neck to support you upwards.
when you opened your eyelids, gaze hazy and lustfilled, lando grinned devilish, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist, and he didn't move, no, he rather pressed his face back home, nose spitting the folds, too addicted to your scent and taste — if it wasn't for the small jumps, a reminder of how tense you were, oscar would've locked his lover's greedy mouth on you for forever. but this wasn't it; he wanted more. adoration and excitement graced on his heated cheeks, "hop on the bed, sweets, i think you're ready f'me", he declared, voice sunken an octave deeper, letting you know that he had enjoyed the display very much. "can't have lan have all the fun tonight."
he shoves you gently on the bed, spreading your naked glory; tears had stained your cheeks, both pairs of lips coated in wetness and fluttering in anticipation of what he had in store — oscar threw a look above his shoulder at lando, who had taken your place, big hand engulfing his hard swollen dick.
granted, osc's heavier toned body lifted itself above yours, leaking tip rubbing over your cunt until he just sank in your soft, warm walls and he swore that he found another paradise; his muscles flex repeatedly as he fucked inside, thoughts swarming but not making any sense anymore because this was it — euphoria ran though his body like a wildfire and he couldn't stop sinking his dick all the way into your helpless, squeezing cunt.
in the middle of grovelling moans and desperate cries, it was lando who spoke up, falling next to you on the bed to pinch and twist your nipples. "how does it feel, daddy?"
"so good, so tight, sir", he brummed, interlacing his fingers with those on your tits to guide them south your body were a slight bulge was showcased. "she takes me like a good girl should, isn't that true, sweets?" too which you hummed in agreement. both pairs of eyes stare at you, waiting for the approaching orgasm to crush you and leave you in bliss only sex could gift. "yes, she does, looks beautiful taking you." and with that lan pressed his hand down where his lover's cock locked up inside, coaxing another mess out of you, your voice singing high and the vision got blurry. "s' good daddy", you screamed, pussy still tightening around his length, making it impossible to move. he cursed as you milked him so hard he came inside. you pant and heaved; his thrusts got lazy and eventually stopped, pulling out off you to lay besides you as he watched the brit tugging his fist up his cock, taking in his position to ram himself in your abused cunt to dump his cum.
"little one, you're a star", he harshly gritted though bitten teeth before his bodyweight relaxed on yours, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips. "now, cuddle me, osc will clean you up", lando smiled as he pulled out, watching the mixed white cum tickled out of you.
POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS
wanna be tagged in the next part/spin-off/blurbs of helping hand? comment below :)
🗝 . . . tag list (open) — @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @vellicora @jupiter-je-taime @denisebeee @jaehyunluvcult @chezmardybum@koalalafications @thebook-bitch @ln4norizz @entr4p3 @67-angelofthelordme-67
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innerfare · 2 months ago
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Scars - Sabo  
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Summary: Sabo has been feeling a little insecure since he met you; a short drabble
Genre: A little fluffy, a little angsty
CW: None // SFW
Word Count: 890
———
Sabo never felt insecure about his scars before he met you. 
Scars were badges of honor, something to be worn with pride. They were a sign that he had stared down foes and persevered, that he had fought and lived, that he had experience under his belt and was a man to be respected. And the scar on his face, in particular, was something to be proud of, given to him by a Celestial Dragon. Not many people could claim they had survived an encounter with a World Noble, certainly not when they were a mere child. 
Sabo was young, but he was a battle-hardened revolutionary soldier under the tutelage of Monkey D. Dragon himself. He had run away from home at a young age and trained alongside some of the most fearsome pirates of his age in the wilderness. And yet, he stared into the mirror with a forlorn look on his face, a boy uncertain of himself. 
He didn’t have acne- he was lucky in that regard- and Ivankov always told him he was a pretty boy, something he had disdained initially but was now grateful for. Or was that wrong? Did girls like pretty boys? Did you? Or was he right to scorn the nickname? 
He ran his fingers through his blonde hair. It was soft, and blonde- did you like blonde? His lifetime of training had left him lithe and muscled, and even though his face was pretty, his shoulders and hands were quite masculine. Was that enough? Did you like that? 
He let out a heavy sigh, thinking it didn’t matter. No amount of prettiness or manliness would get rid of the scar on his face, and a lifetime of training had not prepared him to stand on his own two feet when you were in the same room as him, when you made eye contact with him across the table and offered him that soft smile, when you said his name to get his attention. 
His meltdown in front of his bathroom mirror had been triggered by you giving him half of the chocolate chip cookie you had been eating with your afternoon tea. He’d barely choked it down, not because it tasted bad, but because his stomach was flipping with what he could only describe as inadequacy. 
The fear of you secretly disliking it when he was in the same room as you, detesting the lopsided smile he always threw back at you, and despising the sound of his voice when he said your name made his piping hot blood run as cold as ice. 
He scrubbed his hand over the scar as if it might wipe off. He had many more beneath his collar, but at least he could hide those beneath clothes. The one on his face was visible for all to see and, unfortunately, permanent. 
Suddenly, there was a knock at his bedroom door. 
Sabo jumped, knocked out of his thoughts by the sound. With a huff, he stalked out of the bathroom and went for the bedroom door, pulling it open. “Yeah? What?” 
“I’m sorry to bother you,” came your sweet voice. 
Sabo blinked down at you in shock. Every ounce of annoyance left his body at the sight of you standing there with his jacket in hand, shifting back and forth on your feet as though uncertain, probably because he had opened the door in such a mood. 
“You left this behind. I thought you might want it back.” 
He stared at the jacket in your hand, thinking how foolish he’d been to take it off in the meeting room. You had been in the meeting room, after all; what if he had rolled up his sleeves without thinking twice and flashed some more of his scars? A grim expression settled onto his face, the stress of it all dragging his lips down into a frown. 
“Sabo?” You asked. “Are you alright?” 
He noticed your expression sinking, too, though with concern rather than frustration. It made him want to die again. 
“Fine,” he ground out. 
“You don’t seem fine,” you said, still holding the jacket out to him. 
“I’m just… I’m just a little tired.” He accepted the jacket and noticed immediately that it smelled a bit like you. 
“Oh, well. It works for you.” You pushed your hands into your pockets. 
“What do you mean?” Sabo asked. 
“I mean you look cute when you’re tired.” 
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “Even with this scar on my face?” 
You looked genuinely shocked by what he had said. “Especially with the scar on your face. It’s one of the best parts about you.” You offered him that small smile of yours. “Anyway, I still have some work to get done. I’ll see you at dinner.” With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, not having any clue what you had just done. 
Sabo closed the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. As soon as it closed, he jumped for joy, a grin spreading wide across his face. He felt like a balloon about to pop. It’s one of the best parts about you. He collapsed on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, that same, dumb smile on his face. He didn’t think he’d ever scowl again. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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