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itawonka-creates · 2 years ago

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This Jewelry Will End Up Killing Me - Chapter 10

[Prologue] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 11]

Adrien found himself still anxious, even hours past the pub investigation. He was glad nothing happened but still worried about the implications of being in the same city as the Evillustrator with Marinette so close by. Alya teaching him the Lurk ability was probably his best idea yet.

Hiding in the shadows in this type of environment was exciting. Normally people wouldn’t hesitate to come up to him and ask a million questions. The son of a late aristocrat who is hardly ever seen and good-looking to boot. His reputation overshadows anything he would rather do. Now? He's able to stay on the side a bit, watching and listening. It was calmer than he was used to and it was great.

Plagg seemed to enjoy the privacy too as the kwami stole bits of cheese here and there from the table. Not having to dress up and socialize with people who barely knew him was a dream. Still, it left him alone to think about the Ex-Akuma. He remembered wanting to jump in, staff at the ready, but Marinette held him back from doing anything drastic. To be fair, she had the better idea.

"Are you having fun, kid?"

“I am. I feel like an intruder, though.”

“Exciting, isn’t it? It’s so nice going undetected.”

“Is that why you never went back to your post?”

Plagg hummed, “No, I just felt like I was needed here.” Adrien smiled and scratched the kwami behind its ear. Plagg caved for a second before swatting away Adrien’s hand.

Adrien chuckled, “Okay, remember why we’re here.”

“Information. I know. I know.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.” Plagg scattered, flying past the feet of the noble. Adrien continued to patrol the perimeter of the room. The hotel wasn't big, but the people were crowded as they gossiped about anything and everything. One thing caught his ear, something strange noted by the mountain tops of the northwest.

Aggressive winds and blizzards are not unusual but certainly not likely in this season. That might be good to check out. Walking around some more, he heard some more rumors that stretched across the lands – a man using his music to hypnotize people, a siren dragging a city underwater, another city plagued by nightmares, and a woman using kisses to take control. The rumors were told like ghost stories, giggles and nudges shared between them all. However, there were a few people who noticeably tensed up and became quiet. Those reactions made him curious.

Plagg returned with similar information, one stark difference being a girl who claims to have been spared by the demon king himself. Adrien made his way undetected back to the residential area of the hotel and he thanked his previous lurking as Cat Noir. He stopped a maid in passing, “Do you know where Alya Cesaire is rooming?”

“343.”

“Thank you.” The coins clinked against each other as he passed them to her hands and he left on his way. He knocked on the door, “Alya?”

“Adrien?” Alya came up behind him and smirked, “You used Lurk at the-”

“I used Lurk at the party.”

“Aha! How’d you like it?” Alya nudged him and giggled, “You weren’t hounded by the ladies again, were you?”

Adrien shook his head and chuckled, “Thanks for teaching it to me.”

“You know, you probably have more skill points from the fight earlier. Are you sure you don’t want to choose a class type?”

“No. I don't have a pull towards one class or the other. I wanted to talk to you about what I found out at the party." Adrien thought back to his id card, she was right. He had more skill points than anyone knew but he wanted to save them up until he knew what he wanted.

Alya smiled and let him into the room, “Marinette, Adrien’s coming in – Oh.” She looked around the empty room and sighed, “She’s still not back.”

“Marinette?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen her since checking in.” Alya noticed how Adrien tensed up and waved her hand, “She’s fine. She’s probably with Damian.”

“Right.”

The girl in question was running across the rooftops with said companion. Ladybug kept up with Damian just fine, but Marinette could not and that made Damian nervous. She was practically wheezing as he stopped her from falling off the roof. “Did you ever exercise in your life?” Marinette glared at him as she tried to catch her breath. Damian rolled his eyes, “You need to keep up.”

“I can if I’m transformed.”

“That’s cheating.” Damian smacked the side of her head and looked over the city, “I hate crowds. The others better get some good information.”

Marinette rubbed the spot he hit, it didn’t hurt physically but it hurt her pride. “You know, I should be making Chloe her outfit right now.”

“I’ll let you sleep in the carriage next to Adrien.”

Marinette’s face became bright red, “I’d never sleep like that!”

“You did at Chloe’s manor.”

“Th-That was different!”

“How was that different?”

“Because it just was!” The look Damian sent her was unamused but she really couldn’t explain it. “I’ll sleep next to Alya.”

“I’ll make sure Adrien is up by the driver so he doesn’t watch you sleep.”

Marinette hadn’t even thought about that possibility, “… Thank you.”

“Whatever. You need to gain more stamina if you expect to keep up with –”

“HEY! THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA!” The two looked back to see some men closing in on them, “HEY! STOP!”

Damian cursed under his breath, “C’mon!” He grabbed her arm and helped her across the next rooftop. The men yelled at them as if they were thieves, to be fair they probably looked like some. She yelped when she didn’t stick the landing but pushed her body to continue forward when she realized the men continued after them. “Marinette?”

Through her huffed breaths she yelled, “Lead the way, I’m thinking!” Damian nodded and grabbed her arm, moving her out of obstacles and guiding her to the easiest spots to jump to the next building. He was surprised to see her so determined, this was pushing her limits. "I got it! Get us to that building!" She pointed at a building with steam rising from it.

Marinette looked around and grabbed the nearest bed sheet from a passing clothesline. She balled it in her fists, "Damian, create some debris!”

“What?”

“Trust me!”

He looked around and a hammer caught his eye. He grabbed it and threw it at some shabby attempt at a chimney. The bricks caused their pursuers to trip and slow down. Marinette opened up the blanket over her head, “Hang on to me!” She jumped off and the steam turned the blanket into a rising parachute. Damian jumped up and wrapped his arms around her waist and watched as they got higher and further away from the roof.

Damian smirked, “Smart.”

Marinette struggled to keep a good grasp on the blankets. She didn’t control their escape well but did her best to stay calm and catch her breath. She looked around for any place to land, but her hands were clammy. She felt herself slipping and looked down, “Damian, we’re going to fall!”

“What?” He looked down and realized the steam was coming from the open baths below. “No. Marinette!” He looked around and pulled out his grappling gun. He sent the hook to the bathhouse’s roof, “Okay! You can let go!”

The blanket slipped out of her grip but Damian kept a hold of her waist as they swung into the building below. They rolled onto the wood and stone tile, passing through the curtained opening. Both groaned until they heard the men shouting from above, vowing to follow them. Marinette grabbed Damian’s arm and swung him into the male’s changing area before she ran into the female’s.

She had never undressed so quickly and clumsily. She can honestly say, she bruised her cheek from falling onto a nearby bench before hiding her clothes and purse in an empty locker. She was given complimentary sandals and a special bathing suit to wear before covering herself with a towel. She followed a small family into the open-air bath and she quickly slipped into the water. The water told her body to relax but her mind was running circles over what just happened.

She muttered to herself “Great, Marinette. You’re running from strange men with another strange man even though you could’ve clearly explained yourself. ‘Hi! I’m in training! We’re so sorry for trespassing.’ Seriously Marinette –”

“You know talking to yourself would make you look more suspicious.” He covered her mouth before she could scream. He shook his head and looked back towards the entrance. Even other patrons were beginning to turn their attention to the commotion slowly rising outside. The two men busted through the curtains and looked around. Before they could identify anyone, the staff kicked them out for disturbing the customers. The patrons cheered for the workers before going on with their bath. The two teens finally relaxed and caught their breath.

Marinette sunk until the water reached the bottom of her chin and looked around. The people there seemed to go back to their conversations with each other. Marinette felt her muscles start to ache and pulse and quietly thanked the inventor of open-air baths. She looked to Damian and noted how he still kept a watchful eye on the entrance. She was about to splash him with some water when her eye glued onto the scratches and scars on his body.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen damage on a body, she frequently scolded Nino and Alya when they showed them off with pride from their travels, but it felt different. Alya and Nino, or any other adventurers for that matter, never hid them. Damian never mentioned his or flashed them for notoriety. He chose clothes that hid them well. She remembered the feel of his clothes, they were sturdy and wouldn’t allow for injury. To have this many even with his type of strange armor made her worried and curious.

“I feel you staring.”

“Sorry.”

She looked away and he sighed, “What?”

“How’d you get them?”

“Same as probably everyone else here, fighting.”

“I got that but your clothes shouldn’t allow for that to happen to you. So either you weren’t wearing your costume properly or –”

“Some of these happened before I got it. Some of these happened after I got it.”

“When did you get it?”

“When I was ten.” She didn’t know how to respond. Damian sat back after another minute of peace. His shoulders fell and he found himself enjoying the water. “This is nice. I didn’t expect it to be.”

“To be fair, this is one of the pricier public baths. Normally, you wash off any dirt before entering the water. Luckily for us, we weren’t fighting in the fields. I just let you convince me to go roof hopping.” She splashed him playfully and groaned, “I can already tell I’m going to be sore.”

“Get used to it. It means you got in a good workout.” Damian smirked and stretched, “The water is probably helping a lot. You’ll still need to stretch, though.” Marinette leaned against the stone wall behind her and turned her head to him. She sent him a lazy smile and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the water. “You aren’t going to tell Alya.”

“That you got me chased by some armed men across rooftops? Or that you could’ve avoided the chase by just apologizing to them?” Damian’s silence made her laugh. “This was fun, weirdly enough. Did you do this a lot back home? I can’t wait to get just as good as you.” She opened her eyes to gauge his reaction but he was looking off into the distance. Her smile fell, he suddenly felt extremely far away from her but she couldn’t bring herself to bother him.

She looked at his hand under the water and hesitantly reached out to it before he moved away entirely. He didn’t look at her at all as he left the bath entirely. She didn’t know why her eyes watered or why her stomach rolled into knots. She took a deep breath before following him out of the bathhouse entirely. She left a generous tip to the people who provided them sanctuary before jogging to catch up to him.

She walked beside him quietly, petting her purse with Tikki inside for comfort. She was startled when he finally spoke, “That was kind of you.”

“Kind of me?”

“To leave them money.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She tightened her grip around her purse’s strap, “I’m sorry by the way.”

“For what?”

“For bringing up… You know.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it's not. I should've been more sensitive."

“I don’t think that’s humanly possible for you.” Marinette smiled at the compliment and he continued, “Running across rooftops was the majority of what we did in Gotham. We’d go out at night looking for crime to stop. So yes, we did this a lot.”

“It’s a great workout.”

“We did that and then everything we did at our home gym.”

“You did more on top of this every night?”

“We’d try to.”

“Unbelievable.”

Damian leaned in close and whispered, “Says the girl holding a goddess in her earrings.” The hair on her neck stood stall and she pushed his face away. His relaxed shoulders suggested he was satisfied with his teasing, but she didn’t mind.

She kept a pep in her step as they walked side by side. “I don’t know if I’d be able to keep up with this every night.”

“I bet Adrien could.”

“Adrien’s been Cat Noir for a while now. He has way more stamina than I do.”

“We’ll get you to his level.”

“That’s a long-term goal then, huh?” Damian hummed and Marinette could feel herself getting anxious.

Damian nodded, “I guess it is a long-term goal.”

Marinette turned her head away from him but her words carried a light tone, “I guess I’d be okay with that.”

He took note of how high her cheekbone was and the crinkles near her eyes. He didn't see her face and he wasn't going to crane his neck to affirm his suspicions. He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles. The rest of the walk to the hotel was filled with idle chatter about the logistics of roof hopping training. It was calm until they got to the lobby of the building and Alya waved them down.

Alya ran up to the two and grabbed their arms, “We need to talk!”

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

Alya dragged them up to room 343 and looked them dead in the eye, “Damian, we need you to be bad cop here.”

“Okay, but who’s in there?”

“A girl who says she may have information on the Demon King.” This brought both of the teens’ attention to the door. “Look, you’re the most terrifying out of all of us. She keeps trying to flirt with Adrien and Nino is Nino so he’s not helping and I’m not getting anything out of her except a bunch of stories.”

“Got it.”

Alya opened the door to reveal a girl in a pretty orange dress and hair framing her face. Her greens eyes watched the two calculating. Her expression was stuck in a polite smile but her eyes glinted to something more sinister. “Lila, I’d like you to meet –”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Who’s your friend?” The room turned to her and her expression took a turn for the irritated.

She scowled and crossed her arms, “Lila Rossi, none of your business.”

Lila sunk further into the bed she was sitting on, “Is this what the standard beds feel like? My premium room’s bed feels like a cloud. Sad you’ll never get to feel it though. It might do you some good to get beauty rest.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and took a seat in the reading chair across the room. She crossed her arms and looked at Adrien, “Do you want to leave?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes. I want everyone to leave.” All three of Marinette’s friends tensed up at her tone.

Alya crept up next to her best friend, "Uh, you know each other?"

“Oh, you never told anyone?” She giggled, “Oh my goodness, so imagine this! Cat Noir saved my life and this girl walked up and started accusing me of stealing! Can you believe it?”

“Cat Noir didn’t save you! He arrested you! We saw you take from that merchant stall!”

"I wasn't arrested. The guards apologized to me."

“After you started crying!” Marinette’s voice became shrill as she screamed at the girl. Damian looked at Adrien and noted his tense shoulders, his hands were in fists, and while he did not outwardly glare at Lila he did not seem happy to see her. Marinette’s credibility went up significantly.

Damian placed himself in Lila’s line of sight. Lila’s eyes flickered up to his face and her smile made his skin crawl, “Okay, okay. I’ll take it from here.”

Marinette stood up in the blink of an eye, “What?”

Damian’s more gentle expression from the walk over to the hotel had disappeared. The light in his eyes dulled and there was more tension in his forehead. He stared at Lila with perfect posture. He wasn’t much taller than anyone in the room, but Lila still leaned back to look up at him. “I’ve heard enough and I have some questions.” The room’s lights waned and the shadows grew heavy. “Now leave.”

Nino came up beside Marinette and gently pulled her aside. He whispered to her after feeling her resist, “C’mon. He’s got this.”

Her mouth was a desert and provided no help in trying to stay. Her body stumbled in the direction she was being pulled. Alya held the door open as Adrien followed Marinette and Nino. Marinette’s gaze never left Damian, even as his back was turned to the group. He didn’t look like himself at all.

The door closed and Nino took a deep breath, as if for the first time since entering the room. He scratched his head and looked at Alya, “We need to leave them.”

“What?” Marinette and Adrien both turned to Nino. Adrien shook his head and asked, “Is that even safe for us to do?”

“Probably.” He turned to Alya, “You felt that too, right?” It was at this point the other two noted Alya’s quiet and timid demeanor. Nino let go of Marinette and left to Alya’s side, “Alya –”

Marinette was surprised when Alya questioned her, "Marinette, are you sure we can trust him?"

Marinette looked at Adrien and nodded, “Yes, I am.” He would’ve taken the miraculous for himself immediately if he couldn’t be trusted. He wouldn’t be helping her if he couldn’t be trusted. She wouldn’t feel safe around him if he couldn’t be trusted.

Alya’s body shook as if chilled by a surprising breeze and took a deep breath, "Then he chose the right class."

“What do you –”

“He’s a natural assassin.” Nino rubbed Alya’s back and frowned, “I trust the guy, but you can’t tell me you didn’t feel how heavy the room got.”

Adrien stepped up to Marinette's side and placed a hand on her shoulders, "He's a good person. I trust him too." Marinette looked up at him and was thankful to have someone else see his good nature. "I don't want to hear any more talk about this. He's our friend." Nino couldn't argue with that and Alya was still processing to do anything.

Another minute of silence between the group was ended when the door behind them opened. Lila’s uppity attitude was sucked out of her. Her sneer was traded for an expression Marinette couldn't place her finger on. Adrien on the other hand knew it all too well. It brought him back to that night at Chloe's when he sat behind Damian's bed and couldn't make sense of anything. He took off his coat and was about to place it around Lila's shoulders when she flinched away from him and glared. Her pale skin gained a bit of color as she collected herself and stomped away without a word.

The four peered into the room in time to see Damian flop unceremoniously onto the middle of a bed. Marinette pushed past her friends and walked into the room. He sat up and looked at the four before landing on Alya. “We might have a few places to check out.” He flopped back onto his back and grumbled, “Nothing’s ever easy.”

There's Damian. Marinette snorted at the statement and sat down next to him on the bed, "You know, you get easily frustrated." Damian grabbed the pillow from the top of the bed and smacked her with it. She fell back on the impact and hit her head against the wall. "Ow!"

Damian immediately sat up and grabbed her head gently, “Didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” As he examined her head, Marinette kept her eyes on Alya and shrugged. She seemed confused at his sudden careful nature but Marinette took it as proof of his reliability. Damian nodded at the end of his examination, “You’re fine.”

Marinette smirked, “Thank you, Dr. Wayne.”

He rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples, “That was more exhausting than interrogating Harley.”

Nino took the lead and sat on the other side of Damian, “You’ve interrogated people before?”

“Yeah, my family is full of detectives.”

“I thought they were lords.”

“They’re both.”

Alya’s curiosity was unbearable, “Detectives, huh? Were they any good?”

Damian’s gaze fell on her and he didn’t skip a beat, “My father is deemed the world’s greatest detective. A title that was rightfully earned.” Alya smiled at the response and sat down next to Marinette.

She looked down at Damian, “Rightfully earned? Sounds like you have a few stories.”

Adrien sat beside Nino, “I love a good bedtime story.”

Damian looked up at the four and couldn’t help but think of his family back home. Insufferable, always asking annoying questions, invading his personal space, etc. He missed them. “More like horror stories. My father is especially intimidating.”

“Well, now we know where Damian got it from.” Marinette giggled as she placed the pillow behind her head. She laid down and turned her head to look at him, "What was he like? An intimidating detective who liked to train way too much? Sounds like an interesting character."

Damian didn’t know how to react to this kind of world. Back home, everyone knew of Batman. Criminals had their boogyman stories of his father, citizens revered him, other heroes were a mix of the two, but everyone had an opinion. Even small children knew him. People would look at Damian and know exactly why he acted the way he did because he was Batman's son and sidekick. There were no questions not related to his personality, just his weaknesses.

Here, these four are genuinely trying to learn about him. They don’t know what Batman is. Without a point of reference, he could just lie his way out. Still, it felt wrong under the gaze of big blue eyes. He thought for a moment and looked up at the ceiling.

“He’s larger than life. I don’t know how to think about a world without him or my brothers for that matter.” The others settled beside each other, ready to listen to Damian’s stories, but Marinette didn’t miss the implication of his statement. She moved her hand closer to his arm, barely touching the fabric of his sleeve. She didn’t expect him to move closer as Nino got comfortable. She was holding his arm, but he didn’t shake her off. He continued, “I’m not sure where to even start. I don’t talk about my family like this. Ever.”

“Ever?”

“My family has made a lot of enemies. I can’t risk revealing any kind of information.”

“You said they were in trouble before. Because of an enemy?” Damian nodded and Alya frowned, “Why are you letting us ask you questions, then?”

He thought about his reasons before stating, “I am 100% certain that you all are of no danger to my family.”

Alya felt a bit of guilt sit at her core. It made her nauseous. She laid down next to Marinette and curled up next to her. Marinette didn’t hesitate to pet Alya’s hair with her free hand, a silent acceptance for a silent apology. Adrien was the last to settle, turning onto his side to save space but also trying to catch glances at Damian. Adrien didn't know much but wanted to. They all wanted to.

Adrien hummed, “So your dad is an intimidating detective. What’s he like as a dad?”

"There's supposed to be a difference?" The five chuckled at the comment and Damian could feel himself relax on the mattress. "He's judgmental, he's rash, he's demanding –"

“He sounds like Chloe.”

Damian smiled at Marinette’s comment, “That’s a horrible comparison.” As he thought about it, he missed the way Marinette’s cheeks warmed up and the soft smile creeping up on her face. “Maybe that’s because they’re both wealthy? Despite all that he can be very kind. He scares criminals all over the world but…” He trailed off as he remembered being beside his father when they rescued some kidnapped kids from the Dollmaker. He could picture the kids reaching out their little hands from between the bars of their cages. The kids from the first cage he opened ran into his father’s arms without a second thought and his father returned the embrace. Damian has been hugged a few times by his father and each time he remembered feeling comforted and warm. “He just wants people to be safe. He’s a good friend and mentor. He’s helped a lot of people. I don’t always agree with his methods but he’s someone you can depend on when it counts. I don’t know if I could ever live up to him. I don’t know if anyone ever could, but I want to try.”

Nino grinned as he imagined what this man could look like, "He sounds incredible."

“He is. Our city would be considered inhabitable by most. I don’t think it’ll ever be fully fixed. Too much corruption and it all runs so deep in its government. Peace is not in the cards for Gotham.”

Adrien's smile was more restrained but his excitement was shown through the glitter in his eyes, "But he still fights for it. That's a real hero." He glanced down at his ring, "That must be hard though."

“It is. Getting him to rest is a battle within itself.” He showed a rare display of casualty when he snorted, “Once he was bedridden from a fight and he tried to escape 15 times. It took the whole family on watch duty to keep him inside.”

Alya grinned, “15 times? That’s worse than trying to put my little sisters to bed!”

He brought his arm up to cover his mouth as he continued chuckling, "He hates being on the sidelines. I got that from him." He took a deep breath, but the smile stayed on his face. He never realized how ridiculous his father’s behavior sounded until he heard it out loud. “When he’s forced to do something, he’ll sulk too. His shoulders go down and he just gets this tired look on his face.”

Nino nudged Damian, “Ah yes, the tired dad look. I’ve gotten it plenty of times growing up. Never gets old.”

“Exactly.”

Adrien laughed, “Really? I think I’ve only ever gotten that look by Marinette.”

“Only when you make a bad pun.”

"My puns are fantastic." Marinette handed the pillow from underneath her head to Damian and pointed at Adrien. Without fail, the pillow was tossed up and landed square on his head. Adrien pulled the pillow off his head as his friends cheered on the clean hit. Adrien sat up and feigned offense, "How?" Damian shrugged and Adrien smirked, "Jokes on you. Now me and Nino got a pillow to share."

Nino looked at Adrien and cooed, “Bro.”

The others laughed at the two boys before getting quiet again. They all looked up at the ceiling before Damian asked, “Do you guys have any more questions?”

He wasn’t surprised when all four teens looked to him for more stories. A part of him still felt cautious about revealing anything to this group. However, the majority of him relished the new feeling of tender attention. They didn't pry, they were curious and attentive. It was easy to talk to them. Relaxing even. He didn't know it could be fun just talking with friends like this.

It wasn’t until things got significantly quieter and still did either of the two kwamis decided to come out. They saw five teens sleeping on a bed side by side, legs hanging off the bed and people squeezed together to fit more comfortably. Plagg and Tikki didn’t disturb the group, opting to instead dim the lights in the room. Damian was the only one to stir. He softly groaned and peaked an eye open to scan the area. He saw the two kwamis and Tikki smiled at him. He rolled his eyes before attempting to get up. Tikki wouldn't have it, quickly flying to Damian's forehead and petting it gently. Maybe it was an abuse of power, but her calming spirit put him right back to sleep with a few pets to his temple. He was one she especially worried about, always alert. She watched him get comfortable on his back as he sunk back into the mattress.

Plagg flew near him, but never touched him. Damian tiredly swatted at him before turning to his side. His arm draped over Marinette as a result. Her back was to him as she cuddled Alya. She cracked an eye open to see the new limb. She smiled in her sleepy state and moved closer to him. Alya frowned a bit but did not wake at the movement. Marinette almost instantly fell back asleep and Plagg snickered at his little matchmaking. Tikki shook her head but knew she’d be amused when the group woke up.

Plagg was just happy to add a bit of normalcy until the adventure started for them. They've created a few leads and their trip would grow weary at one point or another. This night would be something they could look back on to remember. Something calm. At least, he hoped they would.

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cdroloisms · 3 years ago

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uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like.

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not.

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs.

Dream leaves.

It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore.

None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature.

Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.”

Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?”

“If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?”

Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.”

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information.

Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns.

“From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.”

Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

“He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.”

“He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.”

Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern.

“Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?”

Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense.

“Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

---

Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream.

“Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff.

“Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.”

“O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod.

“There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.”

Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place.

“We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head.

“I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.”

“Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?”

Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.”

“Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?”

Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

“He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.”

Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?”

Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table.

“You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut.

“The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

“But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?”

“He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.”

“But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

“There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.”

Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh.

“I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.”

---

They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

(She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange.

“Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back.

“You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?”

Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh.

“You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head.

“Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him.

“...these are going to take so long to clean out.”

To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

“Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

“They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “

He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes.

“You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done.

“The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.”

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.”

Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.”

Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

“Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

“-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.”

“When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.”

“We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Alright, then. Here’s the plan.”

---

It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis.

“Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.”

“Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin.

“Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back.

“You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider.

“Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier.

“You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.”

Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?”

Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now.

Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass.

(Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later.

“I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened?

Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.”

“I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.”

“Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat.

“Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped.

“Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

“He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light.

“Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

“I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?”

“You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them.

“We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava.

“Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him.

“Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident.

“You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs.

“Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.”

Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

“Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

Oh fuck.

“Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.”

As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor.

Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?”

She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava.

“There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

“You there, Dream?”

She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

“Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath.

“Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

“And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-”

“They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

“And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-”

“I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.”

“Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-”

“Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?”

Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.”

“You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.”

“Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye.

“Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

“Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Niki, give us some fire res please?”

She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.”

She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep.

“Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend.

But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

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kamyru · 2 years ago

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Is this my favorite Togo fic so far? @someonesaid18s, what are you doing with my heart giving me such requests? I hope that you'll enjoy reading this as much as I liked writing it. If you have any more requests for Dad Daimon, give them to me. I have so many ideas that didn't make it in here. Enjoy! ❤️

Bonding again (Togo Daimon & His Daughter) (Scenario)

Summary: Togo was known as a demon by his coworkers. Yet, his demon heart shuttered into small pieces when he had to left his wife and baby daughter for three years. He had no idea that his daughter would broke his heart once again the moment he returned.

Words counting: 1780

It took MC months to convince her husband to accept the offer to work abroad. But how could Togo leave his wife alone with a baby that didn't even have a year? Yet, somehow, he bought a one-way ticket, talked with his future boss, and arrived with his young family at the airport. When his ten-month-old daughter said "Papa," with tears in her eyes - her first word, Togo was ready to give up everything and remain in Japan. It took MC nearly an hour to coup his face in her hands, wipe away his tears, and softly convince him that everything would be alright.

Togo Daimon was one of the most disciplined people in Miyoshi Concepts. The only one better than him was none other than The Blizzard - Kuranosuke Kiba - himself. True to his habits, Daimon made a schedule even while he was away in which he put at least two calls lasting an hour to talk with his family. The morning one was dedicated to his wife. The evening one was for his daughter, in which Togo read stories and fairy tales to her.

Baby Daimon saw her dad when he called. For half of the call, she was in her bed, trying to fall asleep while listening to her father's soft baritone. However, for a while, her "Papa" was the only conversation she had with him. Togo liked how much his daughter was a combination of him and his wife. Yet, he hated that she inherited his shyness. But he would do everything possible to win her over when he returned.

"I ordered flowers delivery today because it is our anniversary. Can you check if they arrived at the door?" Togo said after reading his story to his four-year-old daughter.

MC thought that it was strange. Did delivery services work so late? Why didn't she hear the bell ringing? But she trusted her husband. Even if he was wrong and there weren't any flowers, it wouldn't hurt to check. When she opened the door, however, she nearly screamed. The phone in her hand fell to the ground. There it was - her anniversary gift: Togo holding a small bouquet in one of his hands while he had his phone in the other. Near him were at least three big suitcases.

"I am finally home," the man said with a subtle smile.

The next second, Togo caught his sobbing wife in his hands and hugged her tighter than ever. None of them thought about entering the house. Both Daimon were enjoying each other without caring what was around them.

"Mom, I had a dream that dad came back," a sleepy voice called MC from behind.

This time, Togo's smile was as broad as possible. He was ready to kneel in front of his daughter and give her the first fatherly hug she would remember. When he was nearly at the same level as her, Baby Daimon took a step back.

"Who are you?"

MC had to catch the corner of the wardrobe to steady herself. She chewed on her lips while she looked at how her husband tried to choose his words to explain who he was.

"I'm your father," was everything he could say. Baby Daimon recognized his voice. Yet, she wasn't old enough to catch the change in it. Unlike her, MC knew that his voice was on the verge of cracking. A caring hand rested on Togo's shoulder while he spread his hands to invite his daughter in a hug. Awkwardly, Baby Daimon accepted her father's hug. Yet, it didn't last long, and she ran back into her shared bed with her mother.

"I thought that you planned to return next week," MC said, nuzzling her nose against Togo's chest.

The man just nodded while the grip against his wife tightened.

"I am sorry. I am so sorry. Please, forgive me," Togo started to apologize.

Not knowing what to say, MC just hugged him back. Her chest was aching. She couldn't even comprehend how hard it was for her husband. But she was sure that slowly, everything would be alright. Baby Daimon loved her father even if she didn't remember how it felt to have him near her.

Togo slept in the living room so as not to disturb his daughter's habit of sleeping with her mom. He remembered how he talked with MC about where she would live with their daughter while he was away. It was too bothersome to have a big apartment. So, Mrs. Daimon chose a small flat with only a bedroom in which she and Baby Daimon slept. After Togo found out that he would return soon, he started to look for better places. When something caught his eye, he asked MC to look at it. So, the Daimon family already had a place in mind. They only had to wait for a little longer to move in there.

Before Togo returned to the Tokyo Office of Miyoshi Concepts, he could spend some time with his daughter. However, it wasn't too different from what it was in the past. Baby Daimon wasn't accustomed to having someone else with her except her mom. However, after a week, a tired MC entered her apartment and saw her daughter sleeping soundly on her husband's chest, who also was asleep. Carefully not to awake Baby Daimon, MC moved a strand of hair from Togo's forehead. The man slowly opened his eyes. It was a blessing to be met by his wife's smile. Then, he understood that there was something on his chest. With a finger on his lips, he prevented his wife from talking. A soft smile appeared on MC's lips.

"You won't wake her up if you talk because she's used to falling asleep while listening to you," Mrs. Daimon whispered.

Still, Togo's hand carefully patted the little bundle of joy on his chest. Carefully, he stood up to let the girl sleep in her bed and went after his wife.

"Why don't you take her with you tomorrow? She will gladly spend a day at the office instead of daycare."

A smile appeared on Togo's face.

"I'll remind you that now we work in the same office."

"But I will have meetings with clients outside the office tomorrow."

MC's words marked the end of the conversation. Receiving his goodnight kiss, Togo went to bed in the living room. The idea of what to do an entire day with his daughter made him change positions every two minutes.

Finally, the morning arrived. Togo was woken up by a good morning kiss from his wife. After MC left, a running Baby Daimon landed in the middle of his chest.

"Let's go! Let's go! Wake up, and let's go to work!"

Togo took a deep breath when he understood that his baby was still in PJs. That meant that MC left him to take care of her for the entire day. Of course, it wasn't a problem. Yet, it made him anxious. For the first time in three years, he was alone with Baby Daimon for more than a few hours. Finally, his secret training at braiding hair would come in handy.

Firstly, Togo asked his daughter what she wanted to wear. While he arranged his bedhead, Baby Daimon searched in the wardrobe for her favorite dress. Togo's heart skipped a beat when his daughter came in front of him with a dress he had bought for her. Both Daimon took their time in the bathroom to wash their faces and brush their teeth. While their breakfast was warming up, the dad put to use his braiding skills.

"I don't like it. It's too loose," Baby Daimon complained.

Togo took a deep breath. He didn't want to hurt his treasure. So, he tried to redo his masterpiece. After the third try, Baby Daimon gave up on complaining and accepted her fate of walking around with a loose hairstyle. Her mood improved when she saw her favorite breakfast in front of her.

The ride to Miyoshi Concepts was silent. Baby Daimon looked through the window while her father took glances at her through the rearview mirror. Togo's former coworkers were aware of his return. But when they saw Baby Daimon with him, their mood improved tenfolds.

A relaxed Shu entered Togo's department when the baby ran straight towards him, jumping on his back. When Baby Daimon pinched the man's cheek, a smile appeared on her father's face. It was so precious to see that she liked to tease the same people as him. The problem occurred after Kunihiro took her from Shu's back, and the girl hugged him tightly. So that was the price Daimon had to give for the three years he was away: to see his daughter hugging his rival. A mischievous smile appeared on Kunihiro's face. However, seeing The Demon so conflicted was saddening for him too. That's why the Executive handed the girl to her father as soon as possible.

"I like your hairstyle," Kunihiro patted Baby Daimon's head.

Suddenly, a broad smile appeared on the girl's face.

"Dad did it for me!"

Kunihiro's smile contorted, yet he couldn't take his words back in front of the kid.

"Can't wait to see you at today's meeting, De.. aimon," the executive hissed through his teeth.

Baby Daimon's eyes went from one man to another. Were they friends? Happy to discover this, she started to rock her suspended legs.

Every person that entered the office greeted the returned man. However, their attention was immediately caught by his daughter. MC made sure to make Baby Daimon a star. Even Kiba took his time to chat with her. But just like her father, the girl was an introvert. So, soon, she was already exhausted from so many social interactions. Just before Togo's meeting, she fell asleep against his chest.

The voices of serious men started to disturb Baby Daimon's peaceful sleep. Though, she was lucky that from time to time, her father talked. So, it helped her remain asleep for the rest of the meeting.

On their road back, Baby Daimon finally woke up. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she yawned. For a while, she stayed in silence. Through the rearview mirror, Togo could see how her face lightened up with an idea.

"Dad, can I sleep today with you on the couch?"

Togo was lucky that he was already in the parking lot. Otherwise, he would start crying in the middle of the road. The tight hug he gave his daughter answered her question. He promised to himself that he wouldn't ever let her and his wife alone.

#oops i said yes #togo daimon #voltage inc #asks

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troubatrain · 4 years ago

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high for this - n. patrick

a/n: self indulgent marijuana fueled nolan smut?? from me?? never!! i started this the last time it snowed but i finally got a chance to actually finish it so i hope you guys like it! tagging @tkafuckit & @hookingminor because truly nothing gets done around here without them lbr

warnings: smut, marijuana

This had to be the worst blizzard to have hit Philadelphia in decades. At least that’s what the weatherman said while his toupee was dangerously close to falling off, an internal bet Nolan had with himself about how long it would be until it flew away in the wind and snow that was shutting down the city. Not only was he snowed in, he was snowed in with Joel and his girlfriend April who’d been pretending like Nolan wasn’t on the other side of the couch for the last hour. Nolan huffs, getting up from his spot on the couch in search of you.

Nolan didn’t like to admit it, but he had a soft spot for you he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was because you were just as much a weird third wheel to Joel’s relationship as he was. Or it could have been the way he started using hanging out with Joel and April as an excuse to do exactly what he’s doing right now. He walked down the hallway, two doors from the bathroom was your bedroom. He could hear the soft sounds of whatever record you were spinning on the other side, and he took a deep breath before he poked his head and smiled. You were nestled in your bed under a mountain of blankets and a movie on your laptop, “We’re stuck here I think.”

You laugh, an angelic sound bouncing off the walls of your room while Nolan hoped you wouldn’t catch his blush from across the room. You opened your blanket pile, tapping on the other side of your bed for Nolan to come join you. It wasn’t like it was out of the ordinary that Nolan would escape Joel and April to hide out with you, but he was doing it way more often than he used to, “Joel and April are making out aren’t they?”

“April’s five minutes from losing her shirt,” Nolan points his finger up, the sound of April’s giggle from the living room, “I don’t need to see that.”

You’d been in this position plenty of times, Nolan curled up in your bed while Parks and Rec played quietly in the background. Nolan would start off on one side of your bed, and before you knew it you were cuddled into his side while neither of you spoke a word. It was a comfortable silence, never asking for anything more or anything less, “You know, we’re snowed in and there’s nothing else to do…”

“Do you want me to roll a joint?” Nolan chuckles, pushing a piece of his hair from his face.

“You’re just so much better than me at it,” You admit, which wasn’t a total lie. Nolan was the best joint roller you’d ever come across, but Nolan was also the hottest joint roller you knew. It was such a weird thing to be attracted to, the way the paper would roll between his fingers and all you seemed to be able to focus on was how big his hands were, “Please?”

Nolan wasn’t going to say no, mostly because if you were both high he didn’t need an excuse to hold you because you always seemed to snuggle right up to him after. Besides, Nolan definitely wasn’t going to say no when you were pouting with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t leave you to watch Joel and April fuck,” You tease, pushing Nolan in the chest lightly. You heard him call you cute, but you couldn’t read into it. Nolan was single and in the time since you’d met it was clear he wasn’t fucking around with anyone else. Joel told you it was because Nolan was a little introverted and if he liked he wasn’t going to announce to the world. You didn’t think much of it until you met Kevin who was over the moon to meet the girl Nolan was always talking about. All of your friends seemed to think whatever you had with Nolan was on the fast track to being together, but Nolan never seemed to mention it to you. You open your end table, leaning across Nolan and grabbing your grinder and some bud, dropping it in his hands.

Nolan gets to work, long slim fingers dropping the weed onto the paper gently while you hopped off the bed and pulled out a record. Nolan looks up at you for a minute, a Temple hoodie hanging off your frame covering the shorts you had underneath it. His eyes wandered down your legs, god he wanted you, but he couldn’t even begin to figure out how to tell you. He should let you know that you were pretty much his dream girl, standing across the room flipping a Hozier album in your hands while you picked what you should listen to. It’s about the vibes Nolan, you remarked that to him the first time you ever smoked together, and now Nolan had a playlist just for songs he knew you loved most.

“You’re indecisive,” Nolan hums, watching you put the same record back on it’s shelf and licking the edge of the paper, “Just pick one, anything you pick will be cooler than I would have chosen anyways.”

You turn around sticking your tongue out at him and grabbing a Mt. Joy vinyl to put on, “Did you get that for me?”

“I got it for me,” You defend, holding in the truth that Nolan’s music taste seemed to be weaving itself with your own, “But I knew you liked them, and you never seem to leave me alone.”

“Don’t think you want me too,” Nolan mumbles, grabbing a lighter from your nightstand, sparking up the end of the joint and handing it over to you.

“Wow I get the first hit, what a gentleman,” You joke, sitting cross legged on your bed and watching the smoke fill your room. Nolan loved watching you smoke, the way it would just fall from lips and your voice would get a little raspier. He loved the way your eyes seemed to get hazier and your smile just a bit wider than it usually was, “Excellent work Patty.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Nolan chuckles, your head falling into his lap without a second thought. You both laid like that the entire time you were smoking, sharing the joint while Nolan’s fingers weaving through your hair absentmindedly, “I saw it by the way.”

“Saw what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion at whatever he was on about.

“Your little helper,” Nolan muses, a tight lipped smile on his face because he could literally see your hazy mind trying to figure out what he was talking about. Nolan didn’t know why he needed to say anything about the very teeny vibrator in your bedside table next to your grinder, “Use it often?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You brush him off, it was Nolan and Nolan teased you all the time.

“You know I do,” Nolan hums, his gaze on you while you were practically squirming in his lap, “The same way that you know I like you but you never do anything about it.”

“Shouldn’t you be making the first move?” You poke open one eye to look up at Nolan. His hands moved quickly, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up to straddle his waist.

“Thought we were more progressive than that babe,” Nolan huffs, his voice deeper than it usually was. His hands were running up your legs, rough calloused fingers against your skin.

“I want to hear you say it,” You challenge, boldly running a hand through Nolan’s hair. Nolan’s heart was stammering in his chest, but when a silly smile danced across your lips he couldn’t help but laugh, “Let’s hear it Patty.”

“I want you, here, now, and every time after this,” Nolan says, his voice sure, steady and clear. His lips ghosed over yours for a moment, “C’mere.”

Nolan wasn’t a man of many words, but he was going to show just how he felt. His hands cascaded down your body, stopping on your ass and giving it a tap while his lips pressed against yours. It was electric, and you wondered why you bothered to kiss anyone besides Nolan, “Nols-”

“Yeah?” Nolan pulls away, cheeks rosy and his breath ripped out his body from just one kiss. You bit your lip, looking at him in the eyes before you spoke again.

“Fuck me,” You whimper, grinding your hips against Nolan’s, pulling a groan from his lips. Nolan’s hand gripped your chin, crashing his lips against yours. His other hand snuck under your shirt, the rough calloused fingers that only lived in your fantasies rubbing against your soft skin. He flipped you over, holding himself up by his elbows while he pressed kisses down your neck.

“I’ve thought about this so many fucking times,” Nolan mumbles, his lips pressed against your skin. You could feel his teeth graze behind your ear, pulling a moan out of you.

“Maybe you should’ve done something about it sooner,” You smirk, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him back in for a kiss, “Could’ve saved me a few lonely nights.”

“Consider those over,” Nolan promises, giving you a sweet kiss before his hands grabbed the bottom of your hoodie to pull it off. Nolan’s lips move down your body, love bites and kisses pressed against your skin while he makes his way down to where you need him most. His fingers slipped under your sweats, looking up at you for the go ahead he needed, you nod eating up the feeling of Nolan’s hands on your bare skin, “So pretty baby.”

Nolan’s finger traced lightly over your thighs, his breath hot against your pussy while you ached for more, “Don’t tease me or I’ll get my little friend out to do the job for me.”

Nolan chuckles at your whine, a finger sliding up your folds, “That’s for another time babe.”

Nolan’s words had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, oh it’s definitely big. His tongue swirled your clit gently, trying to figure out exactly what was going to get you off. You let out a moan, one that definitely carried through the hallway loud enough for Joel and April to hear from the living room. Nolan smirks to himself, wrapping his lips around your clit and sliding one of his ridiculously long fingers inside you. Your hand gripped his hair, tugging on it gently while you bit your lip to stop yourself from being too loud, “Fuck Nolan, faster.”

Nolan nods, a second finger sliding inside of you and curling against your g spot. You grinded down on Nolan’s face, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you in place. You were a moaning mess above him, not caring one bit about anyone hearing you because Nolan’s mouth was magic. It really is always the quiet ones. You were close, Nolan’s fingers sliding out of just when he started to feel your pussy clench around him. You whine, grabbing the back of Nolan’s head to keep his mouth against your pussy but it was no use when Nolan was that big, “Sorry did you want to cum?”

Nolan’s finger was teasing your entrance, watching the way your pussy was clenching in anticipation, you let out a breathy laugh, “Please make cum Nols, I need it.”

All it took after that was Nolan’s tongue around your clit and his fingers curled back inside you for you to cum. Nolan’s name fell from your lips, a sound that Nolan had dreamed of but never thought he’d actually get to hear. Nolan’s eyes looked over at your night stand, grabbing the extra joint he rolled and placing it between his lips. He tossed off his shirt, grabbing a lighter and sparking the end before he blew smoke in your mouth and pressed his lips against yours. You moan at sensation, gripping Nolan’s shoulder to pull him closer. You had him now, and you’d be damned if you were going to let him go.

Nolan kicks off his sweats, taking a few puffs from the joint and groaning when you palmed him through his boxers. He grabs your hand, dropping the joint into yours and pulling off his boxers to let his cock spring free. Your suspicions were correct- it was big, you let out a giggle, Nolan’s eyebrows furrowing at you, “What?”

“I had this bet with myself about how big your dick was,” You admit, taking your own pull from the joint and watching the smoke fill the room, “Not disappointed.”

Nolan laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips and lining his cock up to you. He looks at you, “You’re my fucking dream girl.”

Nolan didn’t spare you a second to react to his words before he slid inside you. He groaned at the feeling, his head pressed against your neck. Nolan’s hips snapped against you, your nails scratching down his back while he railed you into oblivion. You were seeing stars, moans and whimpers falling from your lips and not a single thought in your mind except the fact that Nolan was making you feel so damn good, “Cum for me again, c’mon.”

Nolan’s deep voice was rumbling against your neck, his dick twitched inside of you in need of a release. You clenched around him, your legs shaking from pleasure. Nolan pulled out of you, spilling onto your stomach with a loud fuck. Nolan collapsed on top of you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He rolls over, pulling you close his chest, “I meant what I said, I wasn’t just trying to get laid.”

“I know,” You hum, snuggling closer to his chest, “Think April and Joel heard us?”

The last thing you heard before you finally let the exhaustion take over your body was a we did in unison from April and Joel down the hall.

#my writing #nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #greasy stoner boyfriend #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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startanewdream · 4 years ago

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Glimpses of the future

Summary: Lily traces the third line of his hand. The loveline. 'What's going on with your heart, Potter?'

He wishes he knew.

For @sunshine-marauders who asked for Jily in Divination Class (I couldn’t add any real predictions, but I hope you enjoy this small journey of moments).

Rated T, with warnings for mildly swearing and for a teenager with hormones.

Read on AO3 or below the cut:

________________

Third year

James curses his friends the moment he enters the classroom. They were supposed to share all classes and yet they did not sign for Divination.

Now he is stuck in this class for at least three years.

Great.

And he seems to be the only Gryffindor there; he watches the groups of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, wondering where he should sit, when he sees a table with only one person, their robes gold and red.

Then she turns around, and he recognizes Lily Evans.

They are not very close, not when she keeps weird company he doesn't support - one person only, to be fair -, but Evans is fine, he supposes. Sometimes he thinks she is funny; sometimes she laughs from something he does.

It's a start, at least, and she is the only other Gryffindor there. Gryffindors should stick together.

So he walks towards her table.

'Hi, Evans', he begins, giving her his most sympathetic smile. 'Is this seat available?'

She glances at him, her green eyes assessing him, as if wondering if he is joking with her, before she nods.

'Sure', she says, moving a little to allow him to share the couch with her.

'Your friends ditched you too?', he tries, hoping to engage her into some nice conversation. If they are to be partners, at least they can be is corteous to each other.

'What?'

'My friends. Those prats told me they would sign for this class and they gave up at the last minute'.

'Oh', she is staring at him as if she thinks he is lunatic. 'No, I wanted to study Divination. I always thought it was interesting'.

'Oh'. He thinks of joining that class just for the laugh, for the silliness it would represent since he doesn't really believe in it. But Evans is not smiling and James is not sure how to deal with it. 'So you believe we can get glimpses of the future?'

'Well, magic is real, why couldn't we?'

James shrugs. He never had thought about it in these terms, not really.

'Yeah, I guess. Then you joined the class for curiosity? Want to know what the future will bring?'

'Well, that too'.

'What else?'

There is a pinkness on her cheek, but Lily Evans looks nothing but resolute as she stares at him.

'Sev'.

'Ah', James doesn't refrain from grimacing. If only Evans could move on from her strange taste in friends. 'Don't tell me he is in the class'.

'No, he told me Divination was a waste of time'.

'And yet here you are'.

A grin shines on her lips; it is almost mischievous . 'And yet here I am', Evans agrees.

James grins back, approvingly. Perhaps there is hope for Evans after all.

~*~

Fourth year

Evans' hands are warm. James shouldn't notice this. He shouldn't feel so… so whatever he is feeling just because her hands are touching him, one hand holding his left hand and her other sliding over the palm of his hand as she traces the lines there.

It's just... her touch is so soft, like butterfly wings fluttering delicately or maybe a Golden Snitch's wings - he doesn't care much for the seeker position, but maybe he should, because suddenly he feels his hand is too rough with years of practicing chasing. Perhaps he should try some lotion for them, because she is hating to touch him.

Lily Evans' hands are so delicate, so small compared to his - maybe that growth spurt he had during summer turned him into some kind of ogre, because he feels so out of place next to her, and then he wonders what is the right place with Evans...

'Your lifeline is very clear, Potter', Evans is explaining, talking about choices and what it represents, and he tries to concentrate, but it's difficult because the tips of her finger dancing over the palm of his hand are sending shivers down his spine.

It almost tickles but that's not really what he feels; there is no urge to laugh, just… just to enjoy how good it feels. What's his problem? That's Evans. She can't stand him and he - he also doesn't like her much, though she is vivacious and funny and pretty and her eyes are really gorgeous and her touch is so tender -

'Now, that's interesting', Evans whispers to herself, consulting the book open next to her. She is tracing the third line of his hand. The loveline. 'What's going on with your heart, Potter?'

He wishes he knew.

~*~

Fifth year

'You are late', Evans complains the second he slids next to her on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room.

'I overslept', he mumbles, for a second refusing to look her in the eyes in a irrational fear she will know exactly the reason he had trouble leaving the bed. Then he grins uncontrollably as her words come back to him. 'Missing me much, Evans?'

Her eyes flicker, not impressed by his smile. Someone else might, he can't help but think. But nothing he ever does seems to amuse her lately.

He tries not to let it bother him, though, very much like her presence in his dreams, he can't help himself.

'If by missed you you mean that I missed not getting another partner for this project, yeah, then sure'.

'It's a start', he tries, still with that stupid grin he always has around her. She closes her eyes for a second, pinching her nose.

'Just let us finish this, Potter. The faster we do, the faster I can go back to my life and you can go do whatever you want'.

She is stressed. Same as everyone else, really, with the nervousness of the exams this year, but he never saw Lily Evans looking so impatient before.

He feels that twinge of guilt that only Evans can arise on him. She is the sole reason for a lot of his feelings lately.

'Sorry for being late', he tells her quietly, and her expression relaxes a little.

'Okay'. She bits her lips and James has to concentrate on keeping her gaze without blushing. It's not like those green eyes of her are not a participant in his dreams too - always staring down at him, for once not looking reprovingly, but invitingly -, but they are easier, much easier, than thinking of her lips that have also been on his mind lately.

Though for very different reasons. And in different situations. With different purposes.

He feels his face heating, which is ironic because the blood seems to be going from his head to…

He looks away, hurrying to pick up his things in his backpack, where it should be safer.

And he can put his backpack on his lap, just in case he needs to hide some of his more… evident reactions to Lily Evans.

Damn stupid hormones.

'It's a good thing you were sleeping, I suppose', Evans adds, her voice a bit warmer now, and James wonders what has been evident in his expression. It's not what he was thinking of, for sure; Evans would not be kind to him if she knew the ways she had been appearing in his dreams lately.

'It is?', he asks, confused. Truth be told he sort of napped during the last class of Divination (right after a Full Moon - he is not used to spending the whole night awake yet) and all he knows is that Evans is his project partner for this semester.

Fortunately she seems to take pity on his confusion.

'Yeah, here'. She takes out two sheets, giving him one. James freezes when he reads the title of it.

Dream diary.

'Tell me, Potter', she starts, taking out her quill and sucking the top of it. Sugarquill, James knows but his treacherous improper mind keeps remembering the way her lips were moving in his dream, and it was not over a quill at all. 'What have you been dreaming about?'

James gulps.

~*~

Sixth year

The classroom is hot with the vapour from the incense. James yawns, trying to focus, but there is nothing inside that crystal ball that gives him any clue at all of what he should be seeing.

There are none of the misty figures the book says he could see.

'Do not fret if you don't see anything', Professor Bath says, her voice sounding mystical since he can't say where she is. 'True sight is a rare gift'.

'So are good incenses', Evans murmurs beside him, and James chuckles lightly. He barely can see her through the smoke. 'Are you seeing anything at all?'

'I think it's safe to assume there will be a blizzard tonight', he whispers dramatically, and now it's her turn to chuckle.

That sound fills him with contentment. He is so glad he didn't give up this class - and neither did she.

'Move a little, I want to see better'.

He sits more to the left, but it's not enough space apparently. Evans comes into focus as she shifts her position, her hand brushing against his as she sits very near him - he can feel the heat coming from her body, the shape of her tight pressed against his and above all her perfume, a mix of garden flowers with scented herbs and he thinks her smell should not be more powerful than the incense in the room and yet it is.

He inhales happily now, taking in Evans' perfume even as he already accepted he won't ever have anything else, and Evans turns to him with a teasing grin on her lips.

'Enjoying the incense, Potter?'

Perhaps it's all the smoke (who is he kidding, it's not the incense, it's her), because James can only think of leaning into her and capturing her lips with his own; it would feel better than any intake of fresh air, he is sure of it.

But that's only a silly hope, so he just shrugs carefreely.

'It is not that bad after a while'.

'You are so high', she teases. James agrees with her. I am so high on you.

But he doesn't say anything and Evans shakes her head, seemingly amused by the light expression on his face, and moves forward to stare at the crystal ball.

Her face vanishes from his vision and yet he could picture the way her eyes are staring attentively at the crystal ball, the way she is biting her lips as she tries to make sense of that smoke that is supposed to give them glimpses of the future.

'Potter?', she calls him, her voice distant. 'Come here'.

He leans forward, joining her next to the crystall ball. Again the wave of her perfume threatens to numb all his senses and James tries to find something other to focus, though is hard. The crystall ball presents him misteries he doesn't really wants to unravel, not when her face is close to his, her dark red hair looking very vivid against the smoke around them and if he turned his face he could brush his lips against her cheek and then -

'What are you seeing?'

He turns almost desperately to the crystall ball, but it doesn't change much. Albeit a little distorted, all he can see is her face staring him back, green eyes sparkling over a face with small freckles he always feels tempted to count.

'You', he whispers. 'All I see is you'.

There is a moment of silence and through the haze on his mind, he suddenly fears that she understood exactly what he meant by that.

But then Evans sighes, taking a scroll and looking away.

'Funny', she says, her voice small too. 'All I could see was you too'.

~*~

Seventh year

'This is not what we should be doing with our time, Lily', he whispers, his voice lacking any reprehension as he pulls Lily even closer to him, his hands around her waist, feeling the skin of her back.

'I feel offended', she answers back, her head raised so her lips can brush his neck. It sends shivers down James' spine that have nothing to do with the cold wind around them. 'Professor Bath has told us we needed to be relaxed, right?'

'I am not sure if that's what she meant'.

'Are you relaxed or not?'

In answer, his lips find hers, and then James is lost in that sensation of kissing Lily, their bodies close together, her arms around his neck holding his hair. It's better than he ever dreamed.

He is not sure if relaxed is the proper term for how she makes him feel though.

Maybe desperately in love would be more accurate.

'Wow', he whispers breathlessly when they break apart, his fingers caressing her face tenderly. She raises her eyebrows, a spark of mischief tingling on her eyes.

'Feeling connected with your inner eye?'

'I'd rather feel connected with you', he assures her, and Lily grins. It's one of the most maddening smiles of her, the one that is cheeky and tempting and that she accuses him of teaching her how to.

'I don't know how you can find a prophecy on my lips, James', she jokes, eyes glistening, waiting for his answer.

James doesn't really care for this last project for Divination Class. Professor Bath has told them prophecies are rare to come and she doesn't really expect any of her students to ever make one, but they must take a try.

James is not even sure real prophecies actually exist.

'Maybe I can find somewhere else', he says playfully, lips brushing against the side of her cheek and then to her earlobe. 'Not here', he whispers and then his lips travel to her neck. 'Still no prophecy'.

He bends his head, enjoying the first opened buttons of her shirt. Lily moans softly.

'I am starting to hear words in my head…'

'Unless they are telling you to snog me right now, ignore them'.

James laughs, raising his head in search of her lips again and it's a blissful oblivion, a fog on his head with only Lily being clear, being real and tangible, and any thoughts of prophecies are forgotten.

#jily #jily fanfiction #fluff moments #canon compliant #james is so hopeless in love I wanna hug him #they are adorable #i hope you enjoy #cause except for the last line this gave me all the fluff writing it #t: fanfiction

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mackeydoodledoo · 4 years ago

Text

Melted Ice

Pairing: Kanroji Mitsuri x (Fem!)Hashira Reader

Summary: You’re the very first Ice Breathing Hashira. You’re often seen as the one with the ‘Ice Cold Heart’ among the Corps. However one Love Hashira accompanies you on a mission, melting the icy outer layer just to reach your heart.

Warnings: Near-death, Mitsuri’s dream is SMUT, Mega-Fluff at the end

A/N: Hi, I love Mitsuri with all of my heart (Sorry not sorry Obanai) Nekoma Ryuuga is my OC for Demon Slayer. Some of the Forms of Ice Breathing I found on a Fanon Wiki and some I made myself.

“心のスポーツ” - Perfume

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You depart from headquarters onto a mission. Originally, it was meant to me a solo mission. However, Mitsuri had to butt in and persuade the master to go with you.

“Mater, please let me accompany Nekoma~Chan on this mission!” Mitsuri suggests

“Kanroji-san!” Obanai blurts out

You look at her in utter disbilief.

“Very well Mitsuri,” Ubuyashiki says

You look at him in disbelief.

“Master, I don’t think that’s-”

Before Obanai could interject, Mitsuri was already pulling you by the arm for departure. You were kind of close with Mitsuri, not as close as she is with Obanai. Yet, you like her. But, here she is; accompanying you on a mission.

“Ryuuga~Chan,” Mitsuri tries to get your attention, “Try this mochi I packed for us.”

She tries to hold it up into your face, trying to get you to open your mouth. Blushing, you turn away. You really wanted to try the mochi, but you believed it would be better off for her to eat it.

“Not hungry Mitsuri,” You say, slightly lying, “Save them for yourself okay?”

You tried to sound polite as possible. Although you were seen with an ‘Ice Cold Heart’, you could never really be that way around Mitsuri. Even though the both of you never really went on missions together. Obanai would always be against the idea.

The way she politely declined. She’s as ice cold as ever! It sends chills up my spine! She’s so cool!

As the both of you reached town, the sun was about to go down so there was no time to settle down in the slightest. However, you couldn’t help but notice Mitsuri gazing at the sunset.

“Ryuuga~Chan! Look at the sunset!!” She smiles, gesturing to the sky

And wouldn’t you know it, the sky turned a brilliant pink.

“If you think about it, it matches your hair,” You slightly smile

Her eyes grow wide when she also makes the realization.

“You’re right Ryuuga~Chan!” She turns to gaze at you

You couldn’t help but crack a small smile on your face. Mitsuri holds your hand as the both of you gaze through the town, hoping to find the demon that was terrorizing the town.

Ryuuga~Chan’s smile is so cute... It melts my heart!

The both of you decided to have dinner and you were kind of surprised by Mitsuri’s apetite. But, you weren’t bothered by it at all. You really found it cute.

“How did your mark show up again?” You ask

To be honest, you heard it when you were in the Hashira meeting but you became attracted to the Love Hashira just how she described her experience.

“Eh??? Why that question all of a sudden Ryuuga~Chan?” She asks, blushing

“Why not?” You smile slightly, “I’m intrigued by how you explain it.”

She blushes and turns away.

Ryuuga~Chan is intrigued by me? Oh, my Heart is beating fast!

“My ears were like ‘SCREEEEE’ and then my heart was like ‘BABUM! BABUM!’ and my fingers went like ‘TINKLE TANKLE’,” She explains once more

You couldn’t help but blush as her enthusiasm, despite living in a world of demons, you admired her optimism and happiness through it all. If it weren’t for Mitsuri, you wouldn’t have become a Hashira. Once you look back up at her, you couldn’t help but notice how there was hair in her mouth. She didn’t seem to notice until you began reaching your arm out towards her.

Ryuuga~Chan... What-what are you doing?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!

As you move the hair out of her mouth, your fingers gently trace her jawline. Noticing her overly blushing. When you draw your fingers back towards you she looks away and then down at her thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a light-heartening laugh.

“What’s-What’s so funny?!” Mitsuri stutters

“You’re really cute when you blush,” You smile

She looks up and notices how your smile is from ear to ear. After the both of you had eaten, you managed to find somewhere to stay for the night. However, there was one small problem...

“They... Only gave us... One... Bed??” You ask, in shock

Am I going to get to share a bed with Ryuuga~Chan?!

“Well, one of us needs to keep watch,” You finally conclude

Eh?!!?!? But, Perhaps she’s right...

“I’ll take first watch,” You suggest, “You get your rest Mitsuri..”

After awhile you began feeling the dread of the lack of sleep beginning to hit you however, you could hear the sheets behind you rustling. So you turn over and notice Mitsuri tossing and turning. Her face wasn’t relaxed however; brows furrowed, her eyes tightly shut.

“No... No... Please...” She whines in her sleep

A nightmare? No, doesn’t sound like it... But, What is she-

“Ryuuga~Chan...” She gently moans your name

Your cheek begin flushing to a deep red. You have no idea what the dream is about however, it was the way way she said your name in her sleep.

Mitsuri’s Dream She was back at her estate at Headquarters. She was in the kitchen with you. You were in one of those wrap bras, showing off your muscles and in your uniform pants that were rolled up to your knees. Mitsuri was standing in front of the counter; with her back to you.

“Mitsuri~Chan,” You seductively call out to her

Your fingers trail up her curves and stop at her hips. Your nose gently

“You smell like honey,” You smile, “My favorite...”

You turn Mitsuri so that the both of You prop Mitsuri up on the counter and wrap her legs around your midsection. Your face was buried in the crook of her neck. Mitsuri fights the urge to hold in her moans.

“Mitsuri~Chan,” You whisper seductively into her ear, making her shiver to her bones

“Ryuuga~Chan, I-I- no-no more,” She whines, “P-please...”

“Oh?” You ask, still seductively whispering into her ear, “But, why pull me in if you want no more? You must be enjoying it aren’t you?”

“I-I am but-but the others...” She continues whining

“Then you should learn to keep your mouth shut,” You almost growl before shoving your face down at the base of her neck

Before she could even let out a yelp, you undo the top button to her uniform and your mouth latches onto the front of her neck, sucking on it. You could hear her letting out strangled whines, whimpers and moans, it was practically music to your ears.

“Ryuuga~Ch-Chan,” Mitsuri moans

One of your hands reach under her skirt and squeeze her round bottom in your hand. She yelps however, you lift your head and you smash your lips against her soft ones. They both mold perfectly together .

“Ryuuga~Ch-AH!” Mitsuri squeals before being silenced by your lips

“Would Mitsuri~Chan like it better if I kept my hand here?” You ask, giving her bottom one last squeeze, “Or here?”

Your finger tips gently caress Mitsuri’s thigh before two of your fingers slipped between the both of her thighs. You could feel how wet Mitsuri was already.

“Hou,” You whisper into her ear, “You’re this wet for me?”

Mitsuri nods as you begin playing with her sensitive bud, watching her squirm under you.

Back in the Real World You sit there, not helping but listen to Mitsuri talk in her sleep... You were thankful she was asleep or else she would have seen your cherry red face. However, it dies down so you remain right next to a sound-asleep Mitsuri, sword within your grasp, being fully aware of your surroundings. However, you were about to doze off to sleep at an ungodly time of night when you heard a crashing noise. Without waking the sleeping beauty, you decide to venture out alone. That was the biggest mistake of your life. As soon as you stepped out, you immediately drew your sword; deflecting an attack however, you felt your body being dragged out of the place you were staying in.

“Mitsu-”

You tried to call out to the Love Hashira however, a giant hand covered your mouth, leaving you to deal with the demon alone. However, you only had hoped that Mitsuri wasn’t a heavy sleeper.

Can’t be helped... I have to deal with him myself for right now... Mitsuri please wake up soon...

氷の呼吸… 壱ノ型… [Breath of Ice... First Form...]

you inhale the cold night air...

砕氷船! [Icebreaker!]

“Hou,” The demon taunts, “You’re the first Ice breather... Way to make my record kid!”

You ignore his words and charge at him, blade raised. He manages to dodge your attack however, you only land a scratch with the tip of your blade.

陸ノ型… [Sixth Form...] 吹雪! [Blizzard!]

You jump into the air and begin twisting and turning your body in ways you haven’t turned them before, creating winds piercingly cold. This manages to land you a deep gash on the demon however, your blade becomes stuck in his body that has now been regenerated.

“What?!” You ask, “My Blade!- It won’t come out?!”

“You really think this was going to be easy kid?” He asks, punching you in the gut

You cough out blood, however, quickly regain your consciousness and yank out your blade. You stumble backward and kneel on one knee, trying to regain your breathing.

“I didn’t think life was going to be easy to be honest with you,” You groan, standing up, “But, one thing’s for sure, you aren’t going to devour any humans here tonight! I will decapitate you and send you back to hell!”

You charge at him once more, but with less charge than how you started the fight.

Mitsuri wake up...

氷の呼吸… 肆ノ型… [Breath of Ice... Fourth Form...] 雪漂流! [Snow Drifts!]

Despite having a damaged gut and possibly ribcage, it didn’t stop you from twisting and turning your body in a way the icy tundra winds would move. You manage to slice off an arm however, it was no good due to the demons’ regeneration abilities.

“You’re a fool thinking you can do this alone!” He laughs

A flash of pink appears in front of your eyes and the next thing you feel is being swept off your feet. Quite literally.

“Sorry I’m late Ryuuga~Chan,” Mitsuri smiles, “Why didn’t you wake me?!”

“You looked peaceful sleeping and this idiot over there threw me out of the complex before I could call for you,” You yell at the demon

“What the hell are you looking at me for?! I need flesh for sustenance!” He yells back

“Innocent people is not the way to go buddy!” You say

You were about to go charge yourself back at him before you realized that Mitsuri is still holding onto you.

“Mitsuri... You can let go of me now,” You say gently tapping her shoulder

She blushes as she does so.

“If you two are finished, I’d like to chow down on some fle-”

Before you let him finish, ice forms at your feet and you basically ice skate and make a slice along his jaw.

The way Ryuuga~Chan glides along the ice... And the way her body twists and turns... Oh my god...

“Mitsuri!” You call out to her

She immediately snaps out of her daze and follows you.

恋の型! 壱ノ型 [Breath of Love! First Form] 初恋のわかない!!! [Shivers of First Love!!!]

You look over and notice Mitsuri initiating her first form. However, with her sword being extremely flexible, it was also sharp. You immediately duck out of the way, dodging her blade. However, he grips the blade, regardless if he was getting himself cut by her blade.

Eh?! He’s not letting go?!!

The demon yanks on her blade, resulting her being lifted into the air.

Let go!!

Before Mitsuri could use another form, she feels your arm being snaked around her. She sits in your arm as her arms wrap around your shoulders.

氷の呼吸…参ノ型‼ [Breath of Ice... Third Form!!] 圧延凍原!!! [Rolling Tundra!!!]

Like the snow rolling through the tundra, you create a disorienting image in front of the demon. Only, you had Mitsuri in your arm so it was slightly more difficult than how you do it alone. But, you still manage to execute many cuts before he lets out a blood curdling scream, making you fall back, accidentally letting go of Mitsuri in the process.

“Ryuuga~Chan,” Mitsuri crawls over to you, “Wake up!!”

You sit up and begin to gather your vision and your bearings.

“Blood demon art; Piercing Blood!” The demon says, finally regenerating his jaw

“Ryuuga~Chan!” Mitsuri yells, getting up

Mitsuri begins pushing the both of you out of the way. Your eyes grow wide as she takes the attack for you. You could hear her let out a scream of pain. She falls into your arms and you begin holding onto her for dear life, gripping on different parts of her haori.

“Mitsuri! Mitsuri!!” You try to wake her

To no avail, you were thankful that she was still breathing and the attack didn’t reach too deep into Mitsur’s body, however, you take off your own haori and attempt to use it as a bandage wrap. You were freaking out. Not only Obanai would have your head, but you would be losing Mitsuri if you didn’t act fast. Or think fast. Something in you snapped when you hear the demon laughing.

“I guess it’s the end of the line for the both of you!” The demon laughs, “You both are the weakest Hashira around Especially that Pinky... What was her name?.. Was it... Mitsuri”

Before he could gouge the both of you with his morphed arm, in a flash, his arm is sliced clean off. The part of his arm that is still attached to his body began frosting; his skin beginning to turn into a bright blue, slightly matching the ice that’s also beginning to form along the arm.

Huh? My arm isn’t regenerating?!

He looks over and realizes the floor that was once green and lush, became ice. He looks out and initiates himself to charge at you however, he doesn’t budge.

What?! My legs are.. Stuck?!?! Who is this kid?!

氷の呼吸… 玖ノ型… [Breath of Ice... Ninth Form...] 氷の床! [Ice Floor!]

Holding Mitsuri in your arms, using the backhand technique, the tip of your blade makes contact with the ground. Although you lift your blade away from the ground, the ice floor remains.

“Thank you Mitsuri~Chan, you’ve done more than enough to get me here,” You whisper into her ear, “It’s my turn to show you my power as the Ice Dragon!”

You place Mitsuri down behind you and turn yourself back to the demon.

Don’t die on me Mitsuri~Chan... Not before we get married! I love you Mitsuri... I’m not losing you here!!

“You dare touch Mitsuri~Chan... You will be shown the power of the Ice Breather!” You scream, the cold, icy winds beginning to form around you, “Kanroji Mitsuri is not weak! She is better than most Hashira... Brave, Strong, Compassionate... She uses all of that to her advantage in battle. If you can’t see that in her than you don’t deserve to tarnish her name!!”

Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuri opens her eyes slightly when she heard her name in your mouth.

Ryuuga~Chan... I love you... I really love you!!

You felt your temperature drop and frost beginning to settle onto your face however, it doesn’t phase you as you jump higher into the air.

Total Concentration Breathing...

氷の呼吸… 拾壱ノ型… [Breath of Ice... Eleventh Form...] 氷の龍!!! [Ice Dragon!!!]

Within the cold particles around you, a dragon becomes visible. The Demon looks up and sees you mirroring the movements of the dragon in mid-air.

That mark on her neck... She really is a Strong Hashira... “What a beautiful sight...” He gazes as you come in closer to his range, “This wouldn’t be a bad way to go out... I’ve always wanted to see a dragon when I was a kid...” See a dragon when I was a kid? Where did that come out all of a sudden?

His vision begins blurring once he realized he had been decapitated.

Were those my memories? It’s always been fuzzy...

You watch the sun rise as the demon begins turning to dust. Once the ice you had created melted, you turn to Mitsuri; eyes still halfway open.

“Mitsuri~Chan!” You yell, breaking out into a run

You heaved and huffed from your damaged ribcage, falling right in front of Mitsuri’s face.

“Ryuuga~Chan,” She smiles, placing a hand onto her cheek

Mustering up any energy you had left you pick up Mitsuri bridal style and make your way back to Headquarters, hoping Aoi-san is ready for the both of you for treatment.

“Ryuuga~Chan?” Mitsuri calls, “You’re... Really cold...”

But you don’t answer.

I want to say something Mitsuri, I really do. But, if I waver even in the slightest, I’m going to falter and drop you. I have to concentrate on my breathing...

Once you reach the Butterfly Estate, You help Aoi-san put Mitsuri in a hospital bed as you begin standing back. However, your vision begins blurring.

“Aoi-san?” You call out weakly before falling onto the cold, hardwood floor

The next you open your eyes you’re lying in a soft bed other than the floor you remember crashing on.

“You’re awake,” A familiar voice says

You slowly look over and it’s Obanai. You almost freak out but if it weren’t for your damaged ribcage, you just wince in pain.

“You almost got Kanroji-san killed,” He says, grimacing at you

He wasn’t wrong though... But, you also saved her if it wasn’t for that thing snapping in you when the demon called Mitsuri weak...

“Mitsuri’s in her estate and asked me to look after you,” He sighs, leaning back into the seat he was sitting upon

“If it was any other Hashira, I would have just said no.” He says, monotonous, “But, I see the way Kanroji-san looks at you... So, do me one favor... You look after her or I kill you...”

You nod, not being able to form words.

“Don’t.. Tell her I’m awake yet.. Obanai,” You manage to say, “I want her to know that when I’m fully healed.”

“Fine,” He hisses gently, “Also, since when did you get that mark on your neck?”

He pulls out a mirror for you and low and behold; A snowflake-like pattern has appeared on your neck...

“I... Has that always been there?” You ask him

“As long as I’ve been watching over you,” He says

“I don’t know... I only realize this now,” You say

“How did you get it?” He asks

Then it hit you... That temperature drop... It made your Eleventh form a lot more fluid than the times you’ve used them on previous missions... When the demon called Mitsuri weak... That’s when your mark may have appeared. However, the key points you should note is when you willingly dropped the temperature drastically and how that made your skill much more quicker and fluid.

“Forget I asked, it’ll probably be asked at the Hashira meeting later,” He says as he leaves

But... I can’t even go to the Hashira meeting...

You were unable to attend the Hashira meeting due to your ribcage still in its healing process. However, a couple of weeks later, you were finally out of the Butterfly estate and found yourself at the Kanroji Estate. Obanai had given you word that Mitsuri was waiting for you at her estate, so you beelined for it.

“Mitsuri~Chan?” You called out, opening its front doors

“Ryuuga~Chan?” She appears from the other end of the estate

Tears forming into your eyes, you break out into a run towards her and vice versa. You almost trip over your own feet but regain them as you continue your way towards Mitsuri. The both of you crash into each others’ arms, nearly falling onto the floor.

“ただいま,” You say, resting your forehead against hers, your hand cupping her cheek and the other snaking around her waist [I’m Home]

“おかえり,” She replies [Welcome Back]

Her hands run through your hair as the both of you finally share a kiss Mitsuri had always dreamed of having with you. Although you were the Ice Breathing Hashira, you were expected to have a ‘Ice Cold Heart’. But, when Mitsuri came around, she melted that Ice to reach your heart.

#demon slayer #mitsuri kanroji x reader #mitsuri kanroji #female reader #kimetsu no yaiba

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kusagrasskusa · 4 years ago

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Fell! Sans X Reader - "Boss is gonna kill me-"

Here at the Hamilcult, we support fluff fanfics in cringy fandoms that likely implement OOC cannon characters. That was sarcasm but even so, just know that this might be sorta OOC and this is fluff :3

Also, prepare for a Wattpad level written story and a shitty plot. I just got done writing a 7000 worded fanfic and frankly, I need a b r e a k.

Forgive me for I have sinned writing this

~~~~~~~

Y/N yawned, rubbing her tired eyes before laying back on her chair. She sunk deep into her warm coat, the fluffy fur on the hood making her feel more relaxed. The coat was oversized black and red with big pockets, perfect for a human in a place like Snowdin. After all, at the post near the conveniently shaped lamp, Y/N was waiting in the blistering cold. Well, the scenery looked peaceful but it definitely was snowing and the air was terribly cold. The fur on the coat rubbed against her face, making her cheeks turn red from the contrast heat of it and the cold air.

She whined and pulled the coat over her head when a few snowflakes touched her face. "Cold," she mumbled tiredly. Y/N flipped her body to the side and whined again. This time, the problem was how uncomfortable her position was. So she tossed over to the other direction and laid her head against the chair. "...the chair is uncomfortable," she tiredly whined.

"If it's that bad then just fucking leave," a rough, annoyed voice spoke. It was Sans, the slightly taller skeleton with a red sweater on and without his coat. "I want my coat back anyway. You're getting ya' human scent in it and I don't want that kinda trouble," he continued. Y/N huffed and sat up straight. She was around his size to sat the least, but a bit thinner and shorter.

"But I thought you wanted me out here," she retorted. "You clearly get lonely here after a while so I wanted to stay with you."

"Yeah, well stayin' with me hasn't brought more customers, has it?" He replied, turning his head towards the younger girl. His red eyes seethe into her soul basically, but Y/N just giggled at his serious expression. The hood covered half her face so her eyes were widen, which they usually were. It's strange because even without the hoodie, something is always covering her eyes whether it's her hair or not. And without a barber in Snowdin and hundreds of people who want to murder her for being human, Y/N hair is bound to grow out anyway.

"You're so funny sometimes Sans," she complimented with a sweet smile on her face. "You have such a cute look when you're mad...well actually, I don't think I've ever seen you not mad before. I wonder what a genuine smile would look like..." she mumbled sleepily. Sans felt his cheeks light up a bit so he turned away from her, rolling his eyes. He wasn't used to such words at all.

"Huh?–" Sans jumped as he felt the girl's arms wrap around his body softly. She had slipped her arms out of the coat for Sans to out his arms in.

"Put the coat back on. It's big enough for me to fit back here," she giggled quietly as she rested her head on Sans's shoulder. Sans felt his fa e turn red and his body tense; he growled and turn his head towards her.

"I gave the damn thing to you, so wear it properly !"

"But you're cold and you're coat can fit us both."

"I don't care!" Sans hissed back, making Y/N giggled. The two friends often had times like this; wholesome and adorable with Sans getting all flustered. Sans barely even saw her a friend as he promised he would never let anyone get too close to him so he doesn't turn soft. But Y/N's persistent and sweet personality really struck him hard. Of course, he wouldn't go as far as to crush on her, right? No, their just good friends...

Y/N' cheeks puffed out and she pouted her lip like an upset toddler. "Sans, please? Just this once?" She asked as she squeezed him into a tighter hug. Sans scoffed and shook his head.

"No! What am I, some pueny pawn? I will not sink that fucking low," Sans seethed. Y/N was silent for a few moments before simply letting go of her tight grip and going lip against Sans's back. She head remained on his shoulder and luckily his sweater cushioned the feel of his bones, making this a comfortable position.

"I like this much better," she said tiredly with a warm smile on her face. Sans was sitting on a rather large chair that he got in order to find better sleeping situations without sliding off it, but because he was sitting on the edge of the chair, Y/N could easily slide behind him. She sat on her knees that were either side of him and yet it was so comfortable for her. "You're more comfortable than a chair." Her voice got lower and softer each time he spoke but it didn't lose its sweetness once.

"Yeah, well I ain't no damn pillow Y/N. Get the hell off me... Hello?" He asked when he didn't get a response. He turned his head to face the girl and saw her completely emersed into the dream world. It's true that he couldn't see her eyes, but he still could tell. He sighed heavily and turned his head in front of him.

"Huh‐ Ah!-" Y/N shrieked as she was pushed into the freezing snow.

"Ahahaha!" Sans laughed hard as he watched Y/N freak out. "I told you I wasn't no damn pillow!" He laughed as he put his hands on his knees. Y/N whined she stood straight up and glared at him. She walked over to him with a pout on her lip and lightly punched his arm.

"Hmph!" Sans chuckled at her adorable attempt at being angry and bopper her nose rough enough to push her away a bit.

"Was that supposed to make me feel bad, human? Well lemme tell ya', that just won't do," Sans spoke as his smile grew cockier.

"I wasn't even trying to hurt you, so don't start that," Y/N retorted. Sans rolled his eyes while he kept up his cocky smile. He shrugged and pu

"Yeah, sure. You fists are as strong as a fly's. You couldn't hurt me, even if you tried," he pushed. Y/N hmphed and shook her head. She pulled her arm back and punched him right in the shoulder as hard as her tired arm could. Sans just snickered and didn't even flinch.

"Wait, was that the best you got? I heard you humans are supposed to be strong." Sans shrugged his shoulders before pulling his hands out of his pockets and stretching. "Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter all that much. If you ever did decide to attack me, it's not like you'd live long enough to be able to lay a hit on me. And anyone else down here would have no problem given all they got to some little girl."

"I'm 20."

"Doesn't matter," Sans said as he put his hands back in his pockets. Y/N sighed and shook her head.

"You know I wouldn't hurt anyone down here as much as I know you wouldn't hurt me, Sans," her soft replied. To be honest, his name being spoken so sweetly had a good ring to Sans' ears.

"Yeah, well you can't blame me for being cautious. You humans put us down here, remember? You humans murdered so many monsters for no fucking reason then trapped the rest of us down here with your strong souls as aid. Then a few fallen human children came down here and either murdered a little, a large portion, or one of us. Still, you humans seem to be naturally turned to a genocide even though you have fucking everything you can possibly want on the surface. Us monsters have nothing, not even a real sun or moon, to make us happy, so our rage is justified." Sans finished his train of thought with a scowl; he turned his head towards the snow building up on the ground and glared at it. Y/N frowned, holding her arms to her chest.

"...Hey, Sans. It stopped snowing, so we don't have to worry about a blizzard keeping us from going to Grillby's," Y/N said as she looked out of the post, finally noticing the snow had stopped falling.

"Why would I worry about a blizzard? I got a shortcut that'll get us there in no time," he smirked and looked up at her. Y/N cocked her head questioning, humming. "Just follow me, aight," he spoke as he walked behind the post. Y/N caught up with him in no time while holding the sides of the coat close to together instead of zipping it. The sleeves just hung by her sides as she still wanted Sans to wear the coat with her cuddling up behind him, mostly because she could still use the hoode that way.

As they walked up to a tree, suddenly, Sans chuckled. The next moment, they were at the doorway of Grillby's and the absorbed by heat and warm light. Y/N looked around her frantically and confused, "how did you do that?"

"Ya humans got strong souls, us monsters have magic," he explained with a cocky smile. "Now let's go sit down at the bar instead of the booth this time. That drunk bunny annoys the shit outta me," he mumbled the last part as he walked over to the bar with Y/N following.

As she passed the dogs, one of them called out, "wait, is that a human? Isn't that the one we fought before?" It was Dogamy who spoke out, then causing her husband to talk back.

"I think so, yes, the one that turned into a puppy that liked to pet other dogs!"

Y/N giggled tiredly as she sat down at the bar besides Sans, listening on their conversation a few seconds longer before returning her focus to Sans alone. "I want a burger," she mumbled.

"Aight," Sans replied. He signaled for Grillby to walk over after he finished making a drink for another customer. The being of purple fire had what looked like a jagged white frown for a mouth, and he wore a skintight black vest with a white undershirt with rolled up sleeves and black jeans as his attire. He vest was also low cut, so an outline of his chest was visible. Although he had a serious tone, he definitely seemed like he could flirt successfully to any person he wanted.

"What," Grillby's echoy voice rung. The purple fire that made up his body flickered and cracked, making Y/N smile from the satisfying sound.

"Two burgers, put it on my tab," Sans replied, leaning on the counter with a mustard bottle in his hand. Grillby wrote down his order and walked towards the kitchen door with a "fire onlt" sign on it. He walked inside the kitchen and came out with a drink; it was F/D, something Y/N typically ordered when she came to the bar. He set the drink down in front of her.

"On the house," Grillby spoke. Y/N smiled softly at him, thanking him. "Tch," he responded before tending to other costumers. Grillby didn't really like Y/N, but he appreciated the little work and silence she brought him. She only spoke when spoken to, and she didn't order things that were hella hard to make and then complain about it. Sans growled, rolling his eyes.

"Fucking simp," he hissed. Y/N tilted her head, humming.

"Hmm? Why?" Y/N asked before taking a sip if her drink.

"He's losin' money by given out free drinks. And of anyone, to you."

"Well," Y/N smirked sweetly. "I come here a lot and that attracts monsters who want to see the human. So by being tourist attraction, he makes more money," she explained. Sans scoffed, his cheeks reddening.

"Whatever." Aww, our bebe skeleboi is jealous of the big, tall, muscular fire dude! Y/N giggled, patting him on the shoulder.

"I really appreciate you bringing me here with you. When you decide to pay your tab, remind me to contribute enough money to help." Sans shrugged, smirking.

"People like you are too nice down here, really."

"It feels nice to help someone."

"It's not so nice when people try to kill you over it," Sans retorted. Y/N frowned, nodding.

"I guess I didn't grow up down here so there isn't much for me to say, but I can't help but think everyone down here is kind but hurt. I mean, there's a lot about you I noticed that aren't so...pleasant, but you managed to treat me like a person with emotions and opinions. I doubt that of hundreds, you're the only one down here like that," she explained. Sans sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

"Like I said, people like you are too nice down here." Sans finished the conversation this way and then came a long moment of silence. In that time, Grillby came over with two plates with burgers on them. He set them in front of the two.

"Here."

"Thank you, Grillby," Y/N thanked with a warm smile on her face. Grillby silently nodded at her before walking away. She grabbed the ketchup and poured some on her burger, whereas Sans barely acknowledged what was happening around him. He was getting caught up in his thoughts right now, a bit overwhelmed with them actually. Finally, he stood up and walked away from the bar, heading out the front door. Y/N hummed and took a bite of her burger, watching Sans leave.

She set her food down and ran after him, leaving the restaurant right when he did. "Is everything alright?" She asked worriedly, making Sans scowl.

"God, y'know, you gotta stop assuming something's wrong. I'm fine. And either way, I wouldn't tell you some edgy shit no one cares about," Sans replied. Y/N was silent at first, then she took off the coat she still had on. Her hair brushed over her eyes as she did that, making them impossible to see. She put the hood on top of Sans' head before wrapping her arms together coldly. "Why do you're eyes always do that?"

"Do what?" She asked.

"If they ain't covered by a hood, it's covered by your hair. If not your hair, someone's or something's blocking your face. If it's not that, then you're head it turned away from view. It's weird," Sans explained. Y/N hummed, not noticing that until now.

"Well... Do you want to see my eyes?" She asked as she brought her hands up. She was wearing one of Sans's red shirts, which sorta made this moment more cliche but who cares. Sans slowly nodded, curious. Then Y/N pushed her hair out of her face, revealing her normal looking E/C eyes. Well, aside from the kindness and care that laid within them. And it was that feature that hit Sans first.

"Woah," he mumbled, tuning his full body towards her. "That's beautiful!" Y/N giggled, making Sans' face redden. He opened his mouth to form a quick insult to her in order to make him seem like he didn't mean it, but Y/N spoke first.

"Thank you. Your eyes are very pretty as well. It has a nice color to it, too," she replied softly. Sans huffed silently, looking to the side.

"I, uh...thanks," he mumbled as he put his hand in his pockets. He sighed and put coat on right, burying his face in the hood fur. It was obvious that he was pretty flustered right now and reddened, as he did truly feel his chest warm when he was around Y/N. It was strange for him to feel this way so he typically pushed his feelings away and told himself that he was just her guardian per say. But he knew deep down in his heart it wasn't true.

"Look, I got something to say to you," Sans pushed more harshly then intended. "And I don't wanna hear any of this being told or heard by other monsters, got it? This is us and us alone, ya understand? This shit is hard to say, so..." he drifted off. The snow was started to pick up again, making the scene look more aesthetic.

Y/N nodded, listening to him closely when began talking. "This shit isn't said very often down here; no, it's not said at all actually. But you're human, and you have a different heart so..." he trailed off again, scratching the back of his head. He looked Y/N in the eyes and gave her a flustered glare like if he was embarrassed, which she took no offense to. "I don't just give anyone the right to take my coat, waste my time, bother me, stop me from sleeping, and more. It's just you and Boss, and even he has less power than you."

He continued after a deep breath. "And its not because you're human or I pity you. In fact, I couldn't care less if you're soul is strong, since I could still break it; I couldn't care less if you fell down here, since we're trapped down here too. I let you do because... it's like a bandaid, just gotta say it... I care about you. Not even like a sister or close friend, no, I mean if you were about to be shot, I would jump in front of bullet so you could liev put your life happily. I love you."

Y/N was silent, sorta just staring. Her whole body was shook, frozen, and in shock. She didn't even know what she just heard or if she was dreaming. She even forgot that she was freezing due to being too caught up in her feelings. Sans stood there silently for about 10 seconds as well, before he face-palmed and grew red jn embarrassment. That's when a tear escaped the corner of Y/N's eye and a large smile grew on her features.

"Sans," she replied sweetly as she walked over to him. She fell forwards on him and wrapped her arms around the inside of the coat, around his sweater. The embraced him tightly and said, "I love you too!" Sans felt his heart move a little and a new feeling wash over him. Without being able to control it, he felt a genuine smile grow on his face as he hugged her back tightly.

"I'm so...glad," he breathed out heavily, his nerves relaxing. The two stayed in that position for a while before eventually breaking off. Y/N pecked him on the cheek before grabbing his hand.

"We should go back inside, hehe. The food'll get cold," she said as she motioned to the door. Sans nodded nervously, chuckling.

"Yeah, and Grillby will be pissed if we wasted food. I don't wanna deal with that again." The two fo them walked inside the restaurant/bar, they started their way back to the bar. Yet when they got in, the bar was silent. I mean, the restaurant was pitch silent; not only that, but many eyes were on them as they walked in. Y/N completely ignored their exists' and sat down on the barstool, picked up her burger and ate it. Luckily was still warm. Sans on the other hand was hella nervous. No, he was fucking terrified.

Grillby walked over to the two and leaned forward, so than when he whispered, only they could hear. "The bunny chick saw you two hug and kiss. Just play it cool, and they'll forget all about it in a few days." Well shit, Sans thought. Boss is gonna kill me when he finds out.

Y/N just ate her burger in peace, not really caring if other people knew about them. After all, it's their choice to laugh about like a boy kindergartener complaining about holding hands with a girl because it means their "dating," or to hear about it and mind their own business.

#sans x reader #fell sans #underfell #underfell sans #underfell x reader #underfell sans x reader #bad writing #bad plot

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yandere-society · 4 years ago

Text

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.

“You have my word.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.

“I live to serve.”

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.

“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”

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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

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