#i don't know if anyone's made this joke already. if so you are my comrade in cognitohazardry and i salute you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweettodo · 4 years ago

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beggars can’t be choosers.

levi ackerman x reader x eren jaeger.

includes : threesome, cockwarming, edging/denied orgasm, oral, swearing. whole lotta smut, not a lotta plot.

wc : 4k.

synopsis : a promiscuous sequel. eren knows you’re missing levi and him, and he’s gonna help out his desperate little friend to get the captains attention.

✰ a / n ,, thank you for almost 1,000 followers, i love you all ! <33.

The night after it all transpired- you were like a new woman, the unusual smile on your face made the others query your motives when you appeared at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, even on missions.

'What has her so lively?'

You were fulfilled, there was nothing that could top that night- that night was the embodiment of your fantasies. Both your Captain and long time friend, with you right in the middle.

For the most part, your affairs with the two dwelled to be the same, your comrades still unable to tell something had gone down between the three of you. Eren invariably sat next to you; you teased each other just like always and your Captain still treated you like a peon.

Though not even you could disagree to the fact that you were like an addict, just itching to be touched like a pervert, you longed for the littlest bit of attention- per usual. And it was more painful when Eren purposely chose to torment you, little pokes and prods, long hugs and squeezes sent you over the moon, this was a game to him, and he played it good.

You didn't concede this to Eren, but he could tell you had these twisted ideas in your mind without a word needing to be spoken, watching you doze off into space. Whilst your mind was filled with vile notions of that night- at every waking moment of the day- Eren much less thought about that evening with Captain Levi involved, he would rather make his own remembrances with you.

Giving your feelings the time to fester meant nearly dropping to your knees if anyone so little as gave you a high five.

And Eren loves to use this to further his objective, he finds it a good source of entertainment to watch you shiver, or whine because, ‘she doesn’t even hide it, she wants me so bad.’

On one end, Captan Levi was his usual cold self, and you still flirted with him... For the joke.

While on the other end, he liked it- of course, he did, he liked the chivalry enough to drag you into his office and show you how much he liked your trifling behavior.

Whether he liked it or not, he found himself thinking about it too. Not enough to divert his attention on more crucial aspects of his life and job of course, nor did he act on his thoughts.

It was so pitiful, laying in bed looking at your ceiling as you touched yourself- for what felt like hours- feeling both of them filling you up and giving you what you yearned for. The feeling almost too real, and you yearned to feel it again. You needed it again, no matter the cost.

Your mind filled with only Levi Ackerman and Eren Jaeger.

"What are you thinking about?"

Breaking out of your reverie, seeing Connie parking his rear in the dining halls bench, "oh, nothin' just tired." He hums in response, slowly nodding.

"Dreamin’ about me, I hope."

"Only in your wildest dreams, Springer."

Jean, who's sitting beside his friend and throwing a loose arm over his shoulder, "who'd be daydreaming about you?" he cackles, Connie shoving his best friends’ arm off of him and frowning.

"Don't worry Jean, I have enough love for the both of you."

"I don't-"

"You love it though, right, horse face?" peeking a look to your side, the familiar brunette is claiming his seat next to you, grinning at his friend who's flustered and kicking Eren under the table.

Jean struggles to play it cool, rolling his eyes and tossing his hands behind his head, "I already have someone on my mind."

"Shucks, I can't play around with you anymore?" wriggling your eyebrows, devilish smile growing on your face, Jean shakes his head.

"Nope, doesn't work on me anymore."

Connie interjects, "don't listen to em', he's always gonna be a slave for your little flirts."

"Am not!"

"Yeah, you are, everyone knows it."

Armin and Mikasa walk into the arguing, giving each other a side-eye before hesitantly settling at the table, hearing Jean try to defend himself against his friends, "guys, no need to yell so early in the morning." Armin hushes, sighing.

"Jean, you know you love it."

"Even Armin likes it!" Eren laughs, pointing at his best friend, "he won't deny it either!"

Armin smiles cheekily, scratching the back of his head, "we're not talking about myself right now."

You had a skill, almost like it was an art- reeling any man in as you pleased, and they loved it, who wouldn't?

You suck in a corner of your bottom lip, looking down at your lap.

"Why are you be so loud, Eren?"

The table instantly falls mute, heads darting to face the man in charge, "sorry Cap."

"I want you all outside in ten minutes, be on time."

As quick as he comes, he's gone, not looking at you indifferently. 'This was seriously going to be a one-time thing?'

"You look antsy, y/n." Eren leans over to your ear, "what's on your mind?" he asks, you look at him, he knew exactly what was on your mind.

"You know what's on my mind, Eren,” smug look on his lips, patting your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, "don't tease me, Jaeger." You mutter, placing your hand on top of his own to remove it from your leg.

"Y'know, now all of a sudden you don't like it when I touch you because it makes you think of that night, it's obvious."

Your eyes squinting to scowl at him, glancing around to see if anyone had heard what he said; they didn't, all of them either throwing away garbage or talking amongst themselves, "why don't you just stir things up again? You want to, I can tell."

You sit there silently, allowing him to rev up your engine, this was something you craved to feel, he wanted to see you act up, enticing him and his friends, "do what you did before, Captain is bound to give you what you want."

You listened to every word he said, his hand still on your thigh as you closed your legs, squeezing them together as your body throbbed, he was right, and you were desperate, "why don't you go tell him how much you want it?"

You lick your chapped lips, throat bone dry as you're uncomfortably struggling to find words, "Eren," he flashes you a smile, 'she's falling apart with just me looking at her.'

"I can't tell him anything, and you better not either," you grit, eventually gaining some self-control, standing from your seat as he remains in his, "shouldn't we go? Everyone else is gone."

Eren stands, stepping over the bench as he takes a look around, the room was nearly empty, "Levi's gonna be mad at us, maybe he'll even punish you if you're lucky."

You shake your head, "just let me help you," you gaze up at him whilst the two of you follow behind your friends, "I can help you get what you want."

You pondered the offer, "yeah?"

He smiles, "of course," Eren tried to contain himself, even the idea of having you under him made his dick twitch under his belt.

"What do you have in mind?" you spoke, he hummed quietly, "wanna' get me in trouble?"

The tension between the two of you rose, holding your breath as you reached the empty field for sparring, he nodded his head, "of course I do."

You brainstormed, how to get attention from your Captain, but what you didn't know was Eren was already putting his plan into motion, already telling your friends what would land you right in his bed.

Hours later, the time dinner came around, the table was just like the ordinary, chatting and eating after a long day of activities; but unbeknownst to you, Eren was counting the seconds before the Captain would come storming into the room.

During the day, while you sparred with Jean, Eren found himself talking to Connie right in front of the men in charge- both Erwin and Levi listened in as Eren purposely filled Connie's ear with intentions you had. Vile thoughts, Levi and Erwin looking at each other, the Commander blown away, 'yeah, she said to me she wanted Captain to chain her up and everything, torture her, even,’

'Are you serious?' Eren nodded slyly.

‘That’s y/n for you, kinky, isnt she?’ crossing his arms.

'She is one freaky bastard- better not let Captain find out.'

But- to no avail, it was a little too late for that.

"Y/n,"

His voice split through the talkative room in an instant, voice booming as you quickly looked up, swallowing your food, "Eren, Y/n, my office- now."

Connie and Eren exchanged looks and you caught them, "what's that look for?"

"Don't worry about it lets just go."

Levi had already left the dining hall, you walked beside Eren, "what did you do, Eren?"

"Nothing." He defends, shrugging as you inched closer to the familiar wooden door.

Eren stopped in front of the door, he wasted no time, knuckles knocking on the old wood, "calm down, it's all fine."

Letting out a sigh, hearing his voice on the other side of the entrance, the two of you slipping past the doorframe and right into his office, he sat there, arms crossed in his chair, "do you have anything you'd like to say for yourself?"

Before you get the chance to speak, Eren perks up, "what do you mean, Captain?"

"Y/n?"

You choked, throat dry from the awkwardness in the room, "I'm confused on what you mean, sir." Levi scoffed, shaking his head. He was angry, nearly incensed as he watched you shuffle around, your eyes stuck on your feet.

The sound of his chair pushing backward sends shivers up your spine, he stands, "I don't know where to start with either of you."

"Tell him why you did it, y/n."

Your head practically spinning off your shoulders to face the man who stood beside you, "what do you mean, Jaeger?"

Your eyes bulging out of your head, squeezing your fists as you glared at Eren, "say it, cadet."

You looked at Levi in dismay, "I don't know what he's talking about, sir."

"I should've brought Connie in here too for listening to the bullshit you were spewing."

'Bullshit I was spewing?'

"All I was saying was what she told me, Cap."

"Yeah, apparently, y/n."

You meet eyes with your Captain as he's rounding his table, "you want it that bad?"

Avoiding his question, praying for him to step back, feeling weak from his intense glare, sending you into a nervous turmoil.

"Answer me."

You defended yourself, unable to give the boss an answer. Levi was mad, he was beyond humiliated at not only did Erwin hear your perverse ideas, but now big-mouth Connie. And he was fed up- once again- with your behavior.

He’s angrily stepping away from you and opening his bedroom door, "bring her, Jaeger."

Grabbing your wrist, Eren is nearly flinging you into the dimly lit bedroom, stumbling over your feet as the door is clicking shut. You rubbed your wrist, looking at Levi who stands before you, looking up at him.

His strong hands sitting you on the edge of his bed, his finger meeting under your chin and tilting your head up as you stared at him breathlessly, "you want things to be your way, right?"

You nodded, Eren standing next to your Captain, "things won't always go your way, cadet."

You gulped, the restriction growing under his grasp as he slid his hand down your neck, squeezing, "you're lucky I'm even doing this for you, you should be locked up."

Glancing at Eren, who's gradually unhooking his belt, "use this, Captain."

The leather belt being pulled from around Eren's waist and being placed in Levi's hand, he graciously seizes it and pushes you to get up, "lie down and be quiet, understood?"

Before reaching the other side of the bed, your captain is linking the material around your wrists behind your back and using his knee to push you on the bed, your body vulnerable as you can't catch your fall. Knees just barely hanging over the edge of the bed, someone's feet kicking your legs open.

"So I've been on your mind? because it sure seems it."

Digging your head into the sheets, you're nodding, "disgusting."

The weight of the bed plunges in front of your head, fingers entering your hair and pulling you up by the roots, "you think I'll be easy on you this time around?"

You shake your head, "no sir."

With Levi in front of you, Eren is using his foot to slip off your shoes, his hands crawling below your waist, blindly unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down your thighs.

Pushing you onto your back, Levi is sliding off the bed and you're trying to blow your hair out of your face, Eren steps out of the Captains' way, Levi pushing your knees up and placing your feet on the bed, "you've been acting up again, misbehaving won't get you what you want, y/n."

"She probably wanted this to happen again."

You did, you prayed for it to happen again, but you didn't intend to be tied up, unable to do anything, "I didn't ask to be tied up, though," you muttered under your breath, pulling against the material.

Eren laughs, unbuttoning your blouse while your Captain pinned your legs against your stomach, squirming around under his tight grasp.

“You go around and tell everyone how desperate you are,” you feel his thumb slowly press against the sensitive nub concealed by only your thin underwear, “have you been thinking about us fucking you again, y/n?” calculatedly pushing his thumb up and down, applying more pressure while he keeps your leg in a firm grasp against your body.

“It’s disgusting, really.”

He knows you you hate to be teased, Levi knew if he had even given you a taste of what you begged for, you'd become greedy. Eren on the other hand was sadistic, he would tease and tease and tease, that's how he would get off.

You're caught up in the painstaking abuse of his thumb, not giving any thought to the question he had asked you. He stops, looking at you with a bitter glare, “didn't I ask you a question?” you whine, pressing your head deeper into the mattress.

“Yes, Captain- I've been thinking about you fucking me.”

He's gratified by your answer, knowing that the inquiry would humiliate you.

“Dirty- fuckin’ dirty.” He taunts, picking up where he left off. Levi stands beside his subordinate, Eren pressing your other leg up and finding his fingers hooking around the wet fabric, and trying to get a look at your cunt.

Eren moves out of the way, allowing Levi to push your body back farther, he lowers to his knees, leaning against the edge of the bed, “do you enjoy giving me a hard time?”

They never failed to get you under their complete control, your heart beating out of your chest whenever either of them gave you as little as a glance with their lust-filled eyes. It was so incredibly wrong, so immoral, but it was your guys’ thing, this was your little secret.

“You’ve always been such a troublesome girl.”

Weakly, you're shaking your head, trying to keep your breathing under control as his fingers are raking between your sopping folds, spreading them apart with his calloused index and middle finger, admiring your beautiful body. ‘God- if you weren't such a pest.’ Levi pushed those thoughts to the back of his head, you'd always be his little annoying flirt, nothing more- nothing less.

Though both Eren and Levi seemed to enjoy pleasuring you until numb, your captain knew he needed to instill some discipline, he couldn't let himself be seen as a push-over just because he couldn't stop thinking about how you squeezed his cock so perfectly.

The thought of his fingers being knuckle deep inside your pussy brought him close to reaching bliss in his jeans, you didn't even have to touch him.

Curving his fingers up into your tight, textured walls, feeling your heartbeat throb around his two fingers as he made sure to send shock waves throughout your body. The pad of his thumb rubbing deep and slow circles around your clit, each time he hit a nerve your legs twitching, he hit every spot.

Eren stood beside you, loosely pumping his cock in his fist, watching you squirm and cry out, trying to free yourself as your wrists were falling asleep from the weight of your body, “l-let me go, please.”

Levi and Eren dismissed your pleas, trying so desperately to close your legs from the strong thrusts of his fingers, the overstimulation making your back arch, sucking his fingers in for more, and more.

That coil tightening in your stomach was unmistakable, head spinning, moaning out blubbers of swears and incoherent words, “go on, cum.” They know how bad you've been waiting for this, both men knew it needed to happen again, it was sad seeing you feral like a dog looking for any sort of notoriety.

That's all you wanted to hear, selfishly pushing your quivering hips onto his fingers, he knew this would make you furious, Levi was ready to make your night hell.

All of it stopped. His digits pulling out of your clenching hole as he smirked, standing up onto his feet, pulling you farther and farther away from the peak of your climax.

Gasping like a fish out of water, lifting your head to see Levi on his feet, you sobbed, pain filling your body as you were so prepared, so close to releasing, “Captain,” crying, your foot shaking from the awful tension erected in your lower stomach, your pussy mindlessly twitching, trying to make up for lost touch.

He leans towards your face, gripping your jaw, slipping his slick-covered fingers down your tongue, “that's what happens when you aren't good, I'm sure you understand that, right?”

“Yes- sir.”

He pitties you, almost feeling bad for leaving you a mess in your tears and exertion, but Eren, on the other hand, loved it. “If you take good care of Eren, you might get what you want.”

Eren helps you up, keeping your wrists bound as he can now take advantage of your wet throat, “she knows how to take good care of us.” Eren praises, petting your head and peeling the stranded hairs out of your face, “you’ve always been so good to me.”

Levi scoffs, “besides when she's being a tease.”

Your captain unzips his pants, pushing them past his thighs.

Sitting on the bed and leaning his bare back against the bed frame, “come over here.”

Like a feeble idiot, you're bringing your body closer to his, he grabs you by your waist, lifting one leg and yanking you over his lap, Eren gets on the bed, his tip spilling precum, “you're gonna sit still while you help your friend out, yeah?”

Levi prepares his cock by stealing some of your slick and lubricating hmself with it, lifting your hips so he can ease you onto his cock.

Pushing yourself onto his hips only made him annoyed, “don't you dare,” you groan, he keeps you somewhat upright by keeping a hold on Erens belt.

Eren gripping the back of your head, directing your mouth onto his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip whilst looking in his pretty eyes, his thick eyebrows furrowed and twisted from the satisfaction your mouth is endowing his needy cock with.

Your tongue licking the bottom side of his cock as you pressed your throat until it was filled.

He just wants to hear you gag, messy face while your throat tightens around him, adjusting to his size.

Your pussy crying and burning from the lack of movement, your Captain torturing you, whining on Eren’s cock, hoping Levi would just move a little, although you knew better than to attempt anything.

Eren rocking his hips against your throat, spit spilling from your chin as he throat fucks you, Levi sees how good of a job you're doing, rutting his hips into your dripping cunt only once to keep you going- cueing you to hurry and swallow Erens load so you can convince them to fuck you.

Pulling out of your throat, strings of spit connecting to his cock as he stops himself from releasing down your throat.

Levi’s pleased with you, so he wants to reward you, ‘she’s suffered enough,’ he says to himself, fucking you on his cock just how you like it. Letting out whimpers of relief; by the time your Captain had decided to fuck you, the base of his cock had already been soaking from your slick trickling down and onto his pubic bone. Erens hand palming your perky tits, watching them bounce at the hands of you riding him.

Reversing on Levi’s cock meant Eren could see your pretty little face twist up, your mouth stuck open as you looked at the man in front of you, you were so precious- if anything- you deserved him, you deserved his affection, and he wanted to give it to you.

“Cap�� gonna cum,” you're body trying to curl up in a ball as he holds you from plunging forward, the movement of your hips bouncing back and forth on him, your ass slapping on his cock, the sound of skin loud, which he used as encouragement to plant his seed in you. Such a vicious noise as Levi keeps you still, rutting his hips into yours as he's pulling your head back by a handful of your hair. Your body left with shockwaves as he fucks any sort of knowledge, words, and sounds out of you; you're silent, mouth ajar as you're eventually worthy enough to reach your high.

Your head spinning, eyes being surrounded by a warm white as you're clenching around him to suck him in deeper, your holes twitching as you're frozen still from the orgasm erupting from your body.

Levi grunting as he fills you up with his load, thrusting his hips into you to plant his seed as deep as possible into your beaten little cunt.

“That's right, so pretty- I bet that felt good, didn't it?”

“It did- ‘need more, Eren.”

Eren smirks, face glowing with pride, so vulnerable you were, a girl with needs- his girl, and he had all the antidotes for your selfish little troubles. You were always so willing, truly, you were the perfect participant.

“I think I should untie her, what do you think?”

“Go on and do it, I think she deserves it.” a sigh of relief leaving your lungs as you're set free, rubbing your raw wrists while Eren is easing you on your back, his hands caressing every inch of your sore body, gently squeezing when he gets a good handful of your soft flesh. Up your thighs, under, your perfect waist and sides, he wanted it all-and he wanted you at his disposal.

And thankfully, you wanted them all to yourself too.

Eren knew he wouldn't last long, he's been waiting too long for you, so he doesn't spare any seconds, kneading your tits; giving each of them the right amount of attention, rolling your nipple between his fingers, lightly tugging as he's pushing past your little hole, “filled with so much cum already, you like bein’ a cocksleeve? You like being stuffed, huh?”

Nodding, “yes- I love it s’much, love it!”

Levi holds your wrists above your head.

Eyes rolling back, Erens cock drilling into you, your body shaking as he tears another orgasm out of you, you cried and screamed, Levi inserting his two fingers down your throat to shut you up as Hanges room was no more than ten feet away.

You loved it, you loved it so much- you loved being the center of their attention, you adored being their little ragdoll, how they could fuck you into oblivion so mercilessly, yet make sure you get your fix.

His cock knocking into you, hitting your cervix, which sent moans flying out of your throat, gripping his wrist tightly while he held your thigh up around his waist.

You deemed it your job to please them, to take care of them, and they felt the same- it was the implicit rule of this situationship.

Erens trying to instill as much self-control as he can bear to keep, but it's merely no use, he’s slipping, and fast. His cock constantly slamming into your nerves sent you into a spiral, every thrust fucked your eyes to the back of your head, “fuckin’ you stupid huh- I missed this tight cunt.” Eren spits, the sweat from his body dripping onto your sticky body as your pussy goes numb.

“I love your cock- love it s’much Eren,” your beautiful voice could alone bring both men to climax, he uses it as motivation to cum deep into your pussy. Levi wiped the drool from the side of your lip, along with your tears as he watched you.

Eren pulled out, light moans as he shivered, spilling his seed on your stomach, a mantra of your name falling from his tongue as he tried to regain control.

With you left fucked out on the bed as they got dressed, almost like a routine- you're left struggling to put your clothes on as Levi is trying to rush the two of you out of his room so he can strip his sheets.

“Don't get caught.” He's warning, seeing the two of you out, you're practically trudging through the corridors with Eren at your side as you feel more of a mixture of your cum soak through your underwear and legs, your jeans getting damp with each step you took.

Right as you neared the bedroom door, thankful to be able to strip yourself of your clothing in only a few minutes, Eren ensures you get to your room safely, but no one is that lucky- are they?

“Whatcha’ guys up to?”

Before catching a glimpse of your face, you're gasping and looking away, Eren turning around to see Connie and Jean, “busy?”

Eren laughs, casually speaking, “does it look like it?” he looks more or less as disheveled as you did, his hair falling from the hair tie, while you looked a mess.

“She looks like she just got hit by a bus.”

Your body barreling over in embarrassment, you find it hard to look at them, Jeans’ eyes doubling in size as he sees the unfamiliar piece of fabric in your hand.

“Is that- your bra?”

#lemon #attack on titan #eren jaeger #smut #aot #attack on titan smut #eren yeager #eren jeager smut #eren aot #eren x reader x levi #levi and eren #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi smut #levi aot #eren x reader

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seacottons · 4 years ago

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[ idol!au ] — ateez x 7/11 employee reader

notes: this is so fucking stupid i'm cackling. some are based on their vlogs : minkiway, achallenz, ateezlog, and 1day vlog.

— hongjoong

"Let's get the strawberry yogurt smoothie."

"But we already got too many custard and pudding cups?"

"Do you want San to mope for the next two days?"

"No?"

"Alright then. So, get the yogurt smoothie."

You hear the commotion and bickering before even spotting the two, a faint smile finding itself onto your features. You most definitely weren't eavesdropping. Their bickering was audible throughout the entire expanse of the small store, and you finally peered up from organizing the display of flavored gum to spot the smaller of the two give the taller an exasperated expression.

"You know I don't like spicy! Why would you even suggest that, you bum?"

"You asked for my opinion, Joong," Seonghwa rolls his eyes, gaze locking with yours in the process. A knowing smile crawls its way onto his visage for a brief second, before it's replaced with a faux look of concern, "Oh! Y/n! Why don't you suggest something new for Hongjoong to try out?"

At the sound of your name being called, the smaller male stiffens considerably, hand nearly loosening around the packet of kimbap in his hands. With a suspicious glare, his head instantly snaps to his friend, who in return sent a friendly smile towards you. Seonghwa nearly laughed at the flustered male in his peripheral vision, before nodding in acknowledgment towards you once you made yourself towards the aisle. Hongjoong helplessly watched as you conversed with Seonghwa, your laughter ringing in his ears like soft, melodious chimes.

The tips of Hongjoong's ears burned red, his hand subconsciously reaching up several times to tussle his tresses and hide the obvious signs of his infatuation and nervousness. Seonghwa's eyes glimmered with mischief as they briefly darted to eye his sweating comrade.

"I really like this one," you picked up a warm pack of the spicy cheese kimbap to offer them a look, your eyes flickering to Hongjoong immediately, "But you don't like anything spicy, right Hong-"

"I'll take it!"

Seonghwa merely casts him a look of surprise, and Hongjoong almost stutters as the taller scrutinizes him. Was he that obvious?

"I've actually been enjoying spicy food for the past few weeks," he claims defensively, shoulders straightening and frame subconsciously leaning towards your own as he quickly picks up a conversation with you, cheeks red and lips tugged up into a jaw-breaking smile.

When the two step out of the small convenience store, plastic bags in hand, Seonghwa waste no millisecond to address the elephant in the room, tone complacent and all.

"You're whipped."

— seonghwa

You stare at the blue cart filled to the brim with yogurt cups, and you give the tall male a puzzled look. You were accustomed to having the eight men from upstairs purchase an abundance of food, from dried goods to ready-to-eat meals, but this was new.

"Seonghwa, is this really for all eight of you? Just.. yogurt," you mused curiously, hesitant hands reaching towards the yogurt cups to begin scanning and bagging them.

"Yes and no," he offers a soft smile, hands reaching towards the number candle display, rolling it to the side in search of the desired numbers. He places a number 2 and 3 onto the counter, and you're even more confused than before, "It's for Hongjoong's cake. His birthday is today."

"Then why do you need the yogurt?"

"The yogurt is the cake."

Your lips form a silent 'oh' as you nodded absentmindedly. The two of you share a moment of silence, before your shared laughter erupts throughout the convenience store.

"How thoughtful of you, Hwa," you drawl out teasingly, gaze unwavering from his chiseled face, "That's cute. I bet he'll love it."

Seonghwa nods silently, a polite smile brightening his features as he helps you with the items and bags, insisting he'll pack up the yogurt while you scan. He had a habit of always needing to help and making sure he wasn't being too much of a bother. His head snaps up once you call his name for nth time, and a faint dusting of pink blooms on his facial features as he meets your gaze, "Oh. Sorry, did you call me?"

You giggle lightheartedly as you finalize the amount of his purchase, eyes curiously meeting his, "If you were to pick a non-traditional birthday cake, what would it be?"

"Ah, tteokbokki," he states without a second to lose, eyes sparkling underneath the fluorescent lights of the store, "it will definitely be tteokbokki."

"When the time comes, I'll gladly make you a tteokbokki birthday cake," you accept the cash from his hands, before closing the cash register with a bump of your hip, hands working on tying the two plastic bags filled with yogurt cups, "I mean- of course, if you don't mind that is?"

A bashful smile nearly breaks his face into two as he accepts the bags, hands purposefully brushing against your knuckles a second too long as he nearly laughs in amusement at your nervous smile, "I'd love that, Y/n."

— yunho

You wrap the damp rag around your lithe finger to wipe around the buttons and crevices of the dusty cash register. Once it was practically sparkling, you decided to wipe away at the glass fridge displays, roughly rubbing the stubborn fingerprints that remained on the surface.

The doorbell chimed, and from where you stood, you were unable to see the customer that had just walked in. The sound of a group of males pierced the silence of the store, along with the rumbling of the vending machines in the corner. Nevertheless, you called out with a warm welcome and hastily wiped the last of the few glass doors. Your co-worker was supposed to be here minutes ago, while you were slaving around cleaning the place all on your own and dealing with customers simultaneously.

Removing your gloves, you internally grumbled at the fact your co-worker was late from lunch for the third time this same week. Stomping your way towards the cash register you failed to remember to add a wet-floor sign onto the area you had just mopped, utterly forgetting about the whole ordeal as you made yourself to the front of the store. As you turned the corner, your sneakers skidded loudly against the slippery tiles, your frame instantly thrown off balance as a clipped yelp left your mouth, hands bracing in front of your face to shield it from any damage.

It took a few seconds for you to realize a pair of arms were secured around your waist, and you silently gaped at the male above you with a stupefied expression.

Of course, it had to be him.

The very same man you've been crushing on for a few months now. The very same man who worked three stories above you.

Yunho was so graceful for someone so tall.

"Oh, thanks," he laughed in amusement at your shocked expression, your hands reaching up to clamp around your mouth in horror, "Are you okay though? You... uh, you should put a wet-floor sign. Wouldn't want anyone suing you for falling, now would you?"

Heaven knows you were never more thankful for your co-worker being late again than ever before. You were so close to him, you can practically smell the cologne sprayed on his neck.

"No! No, of course not! I'll get it right away!"

When you scurry from his arms and to the back to rummage in the closet, Wooyoung's voice and laughter ring out loudly behind you.

"But you fall harder every time we come here! Just sue Y/n alread—" a muffled sound of a punch and a loud squeal of pain followed suit, "Ow! Hulk hands! What was that for!?"

— yeosang

In the late hours of the evening, you found yourself guiding Yeosang through the aisles of the convenience store for a mission he had to complete for a series they were filming. When you spotted no cameras around, you sighed in relief.

"You know you're cheating, right?" You ask as the male crouches down to examine the array of rice balls and other food on display.

"There are no cameras here. No one will know."

You pause momentarily to glance at the security camera nestled in the corner, before rolling your eyes and crouching next to him to aid him in his task. This isn't an uncommon occurrence. Yeosang has come down to the store numerous times to grab items for the vlogs he filmed. One time it was utensils and a bowl, and the other time was an abundance of gummy bears.

"I can't believe you're making me do this for you," you laugh in disbelief as he stands to watch you look around for a particular item.

"You know what my members like more than I do," he muses with a soft smile, "they practically live here."

"Yeosang," you called out with a quirk of your brow, "you live with them. If anyone's capable, it's you."

"I know. I still need your help though."

You internally sigh and get to work, not that you minded in the slightest. Your heart was practically hammering out of your chest the moment he stepped foot inside the store.

"The guys usually get this pack of ramyun almost every visit, along with this rice ball," you arrange the food in his cart, before dragging him into another aisle, "We also got this new shipment of honey rice cakes- I'm sure Seonghwa will like them. He usually prefers the older types of snacks. Wait. Do you need Mingi's diarrhea medicine too?" You joke with a lighthearted laugh.

Yeosang gives you a grimace, and his judging eyes study you for a second too long that has your neck and ears heating up rapidly, "No, Y/n. Mingi's digestive system is doing just fine now.."

Yeosang nods absentmindedly as he's dragged to and fro from one aisle to the next, unable to focus on the words that come flying rapidly from your mouth "..And Hongjoong always tries new potato chips every time he visits, but these are his favorite, I can tell. San likes anything sweet. If there's no more yogurt smoothies left, just get a chocolate bar."

You peer at Yeosang who remained silent the entire time, his unfocused gaze trained on you. With a snap of your fingers in front of his face, he startles at the sudden sound, eyes wide and darting rapidly in confusion, "Oh! Sorry, Y/n. I got distracted there. Did you say something?"

"Cute," you laugh airily at his flustered expression, thumb jutting behind you towards the drink display, "I almost forgot the most important item- coke! You guys are the reason it's always out of stock here."

Taking a look at the clock above the door, you gawp in disbelief as you wait for the male to fish out his wallet, "Yeo, you've been here for the past half hour. They're going to think you got lost."

"No, that's alright," Yeosang mumbles as he hands you a sufficient amount of cash for the items, eyes looking anywhere but your face, "We should do this again sometime."

"Hm," you glance back up at him questioningly, "Sure. Whenever your next challenge is, I suppose. I don't mind helping."

He reaches up to awkwardly scratch his neck, lips pressing together into a firm line before he has the courage to meet your eyes and reply, "Oh- no. I meant.. on our own free time. No challenge. Just us two. Hanging out? Buying snacks?"

You almost stumble over yourself at his words, hands clammy and face burning. Nodding subtly, you fail to realize the goofy, flirtatious smile settling on your face as you hand him the receipt.

"Challenge accepted."

— san

"And they said it tastes like toothpaste! Can you believe them?"

You reached out to pat a hand onto the taller male's back in a caring manner, nodding when he asked you how ridiculous the other members' statements were.

"Yes, of course," you console him as you carefully organized the new shipment of chocolate bars on display, allowing the male to vent to you in the aisles of the convenience store he frequently visited from upstairs. He's also been trying to persuade you to join his mint chocolate cult for the past two weeks now.

"Mint chocolate doesn't taste like toothpaste! Toothpaste tastes like mint chocolate," San brushes a hand through his pink locks, eyeing you for a reply in agreement. You think he only came down here not only to vent, but to also fuel his ego by finding another person to agree with his statements and judge his friends' taste in food- other than Mingi, of course, "don't you agree?"

You nearly laugh at the awaiting gaze that overtakes his features. He was very serious about this topic, so it was safe to assume his older friends bashed the flavor to the point San took it almost personally, "Yes, San. For the hundredth time, mint and chocolate are the perfect pair. They're like.. peanut butter and jelly. Cheese and corn. Strawberries and bananas. And-"

"Me and you."

You think you hear wrong as he quickly dashes towards the ice cream freezer to grab a handful of mint chocolate ice cream pints.

"What?"

"Hm?" he has the audacity to tilt his head in amusement, eyes practically twinkling with mischief, "What's the matter, Y/n?"

How dare he fluster you like this. Your jaw is slack as he walks back over to you with the same, bright smile and dimple on display. The words nearly die in your throat as he looms over you with a look of mock curiosity and innocence, "N-nothing, uh- do you want me to check you out?"

"You're more than welcome to anytime, Y/n. No need to ask."

His smile stretches in amusement as your eyes widen in shock. He knew what he was doing to you. You choked out a response, nodding your head as you made yourself over to the register counter.

Once placing the ice cream pints and eight plastic spoons in the bag, you handed it to the bubblegum haired male, whose eyes crinkled happily, "No need to be shy, Y/n. Sometimes, all you need is," he reached over to press the tip of your nose back with the pad of his finger, "encourage-mint."

His laughter rung like the bell chime that signaled his departure, and before he turned the corner to go back to the entertainment building upstairs, he sent you a quick and mischievous wink.

— mingi

The steam from your ramyun cup swirled up to meet the cold air as you sat alone in front of the convenience store for your lunch break. You watched as people scuttled through the streets in an attempt to avoid the light misting of rain. The cup of steaming noodles helped warm your hands though, and the store awning provided enough shelter from the rain.

Taking a generous amount of noodles in your mouth, you slightly wince at the searing temperature on your lips.

"Y/n? What're you doing out here?"

A voice caught your attention, and your head snaps up to meet the eyes of the well-dressed male standing nearby with a to-go bag in hand. You stare with stuffed cheeks and wide eyes, quickly ducking your head to drop the remaining noodles hanging from your lips back into the steaming cup. You don't know why he's asking a question like that. He, along with the others, have numerously visited the store or were nearby when you were on your lunch break. Even Yunho memorized your lunch schedule throughout the week.

"Mingi! Hi-" you cough out suddenly, hand quickly reaching up to wipe the sauce from your lips. He makes his way over to where you're sitting, before plopping beside you and proceeding to open the bag in his hands. You give him a questioning look, and when he feels his eyes on you, he turns to you with a smile.

"You don't mind if I eat lunch with you, yeah?" He snaps his chopsticks apart and gives you a hopeful look, "You just seem all bored and lonely by yourself."

You stare flabbergasted at his words, before shaking your head almost too quickly after a moment of silence. You didn't mind the lack of company actually, but Mingi was too sweet for you to deny, "No, of course not. But it's okay, you don't have to-"

"One doesn't let their friend eat all alone," he simpers, before eyeing his styrofoam box and thrusting it in front of you, "Here! You should try some barbecue eel. It's perfect for this kind of weather."

The two of you spent the next half hour conversing and stuffing your mouths full of food he had gotten from his mother's restaurant. His eyes sparkled once you complimented his mother's cooking skills, and a contagious smile found itself on his visage as you asked for the name of the place. He slurped another strand of noodle into his mouth before boisterously replying with a raised brows and a bright smile.

"I'll see if I'll have time this weekend to visit it," you accepted the napkin he offered you to wipe your mouth, before crumbling it and tidying up the area. He stands to discard the empty boxes of food and bags before checking the time on his phone.

"I'd love to spend more time with you, but Hongjoong will have my ass if I don't go back in time," he laughs loudly while dusting his clothes to rid himself of any fallen crumb, "Oh! Here's a card for my mother's restaurant! I always carry some with me wherever I go."

You accepted it with a grateful smile, brows knitting in confusion at the numbers scribbled on the corner of the small business card, "Oh, there's a number here? Is it their new number?"

"It's mine," he says while patting your head with a cheeky smile, "Next time, we should eat together there— where it's warm and not out here in the freezing cold."

You gape in awe at him, face flushing almost immediately. Mingi smiles, internally reminding himself to thank Yunho for the idea later.

— wooyoung

"Y/n! I can't believe you betrayed me like this!?"

Peeking your head up curiously, you quirked a brow in the direction of the heaving male, "What are you talking about?"

You place the last stack of cash into the register before closing it shut. The display of candy near the register needed organizing, and you sigh to yourself before you begin working on it. His friends stand outside, in front of the store, conversing amongst each other as they waited for him to finish grabbing 'something extremely important'.

Your friend nearly reached over the counter to shake you by your shoulders with an exasperated cry of anguish, "You told me you'll save me at least one of the BTS cold brew bottles! They're all sold out! Again!"

Oh. Of course that was the problem.

You roll your eyes at his dramatic rant, elbows resting onto the counter as you leaned forward teasingly. You were grateful no one else was in the store while Wooyoung had his meltdown. He would've probably frightened them anyway.

"I told you when the new shipment comes in to save me each version of them!"

"Wooyoung- it's just canned americano. We have plenty more brands to tr-"

"No! It has BTS on the packaging!" He explains quickly, "Don't you realize it's a godsend to have packaged food and drinks with their faces on it!?"

"You're going to throw the packaging away anyway! What's the point?" Your unimpressed face studies his in confusion. Internally, you smile to yourself at his frustrated tone. You love to rile him up.

When you were met with silence, you scrunched your nose in distaste, arms crossing in front of your chest defensively. He looks a bit flustered at your gaze, shoulders shrugging silently.

"Gross! Wooyoung, were you seriously planning on keeping and collecting them? Aren't you overdoing it?"

He lets out an indignant squawk and pins you with a pointed stare, which you returned with a blank blinking of your eyes.

"I don't tell you how to live."

Rolling your eyes, you turn to rummage through your bag tucked beneath the counter, before fishing out two cans of the americano. Wooyoung's eyes open wide in astonishment.

"You're lucky I remembered. My manager only let me buy two."

"Y/n?" He scrambles to the counter to take a good look at the cans, before he finds himself tugging you forward by your head with a loud cry of excitement, to which you groaned in protest, "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

Your face flushes at the close proximity and when the bell chimes signaling a new customer, your heart drops to your stomach in fright. You did not need anyone witnessing this. Wooyoung's grip was relentless as he squeezed your cheeks together and continued to praise you for being the most trustworthy person he knows.

"Wooyoung, how many times have I told you harassing someone isn't the way to express your feelings," Hongjoong's annoyed voice calls out from the front.

— jongho

You attempted to remain inconspicuous as you huddled over your phone over the counter, eyes glued onto the screen displaying the current live video. You swore you could hear their rackety footsteps and shouts from three stories below. You wouldn't be surprised if one of them came crashing down from the ceiling one day. An infatuated sigh and droopy smile tugged at your lips as you leaned your cheek against your palm.

A few minutes later, you had to mute your phone to attend a customer ( because heaven knows how loud and rowdy they get when they're all together. And you didn't need their argument about butts to blast out throughout the store ). To your displeasure, another few came strolling in. You wanted to groan in frustration at their impeccable timing. Of course, Ateez would start a live during your shift, and of course customers came flocking in as if the convenience store was suddenly a magnet.

By now, you've missed a good portion of the live, and some of the customers gave you wary looks as you trembled to hastily bag every item they purchased. You nearly ripped the register out in the process of your haste.

You thought it was finally the last of the burdensome customers, when a handful of bags of chips, ice cream pints, and ramyun cups were placed onto the counter. Sighing subtly, you glance up to give the customer a fake smile, only to gape as the male across from you has his eyes set onto your phone screen.

You feel the force of heat rush to your face like a volcano spitting out molten magma, and with a noise between a strangled gasp and cry, your hand quickly slams on top of your phone to shield the screen and hopefully save the last bit of dignity left in your system. You gripped it against your chest with a panicked grin, and his eyes flickered down and then back up to meet your own.

The last thing you wanted was for the boys to know you keep tab of their activities and projects. You were just supposed to be the friendly clerk downstairs. You muster up the energy to not feel too affected by the questioning stare the other is giving you.

"Well," the male chuckles at your perplexed and flustered expression, "I've caught you red handed, Y/n."

Your smile falters at the accusation.

"It's not what it looks like. It just popped up from my notifications- I wasn't even-"

"Hey, hey!" He suddenly quips playfully, arms out in front of him in defense, "No need to be so defensive. So, I take it you were lying when you said you weren't an Atiny?"

Your silence was a dead giveaway, and his smile only grew wider as you attempted to shrink into yourself.

"Who's your bias?" He tried again, and you laughed it off, quickly changing the topic by asking him how many napkins and spoons he needed for the ice cream. He reached a hand up to brush the red bangs from his eyes, before looming over the register a bit suspiciously. When your head snaps up to give him a look of confusion, his attention is suddenly drawn to the gas medicine displayed on the counter. You sigh in relief as you hand him the bags before wishing him a good rest of the day.

"Y/n?"

Before he bid you farewell from the door, he waved a hand up, mischievous smile plying at his lips, "Nice photocard you have there on your phone."

Your eyes glance down immediately to your device resting on the counter, breath leaving your lungs in embarrassment as the same red-head smiles back at you from your phone. Jongho's laughter can still be heard from outside even with the door shut, and you suddenly wish the floor will swallow you up to save the remaining crumb of dignity you had left.

#ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #mingi x reader

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years ago

Note

Hi. I am the anon from earlier.

Teasing in the sense, even when Sasuke meets Naruto at Orochimaru's hideout, that scene itself is quite unsettling. But Sasuke teases him, asking why he was there when he should be training. And is amused by Naruto's answer, he goes pfft (hahaha, like what?) I get these femme fatale vibes from Sasuke in that scene. Then later, when they meet again, Sasuke asks him he know his heart and vice versa and then says, Right Naruto? Very teasy. Even later in the war arc, Sasuke and Naruto both tease each other. Especially when they are trapped inside Susanno during Tsukuyomi. Sasuke implies that Naruto and Sasuke's lives are more important than others ( dissing Sakura and Kakashi) and then says to Naruto, you know what I am saying, don't you? And Naruto teases, just like him, saying his body also moves on its own.

Like I said, they both have inside jokes type stuff. Which I find quite intimate because they literally act differently around each other as compared how they act around others.

And I especially find it quite endearing because Sasuke comes off as more human in these instances and not a robot bent on destroying the world.

Hello, Anon😍😍😍😍. So, that’s what you mean by teasing.

All these scenes you have mentioned, the way I see it was always as some different forms of

Obsession??!!

Maybe....... Sasuke was teasing. But it was not Naruto. He was teasing, us, the viewers. Throughout Shippuden, we all noticed Naruto’s blatant obsession towards Sasuke. Sasuke’s side is very subtle but noticeable.

And Ofcourse, Sasuke's obsession always generate a certain tension between them which looks very intimate sometimes.

Sasuke meets Naruto at Orochimaru's hideout, that scene itself is quite unsettling. But Sasuke teases him, asking why he was there when he should be training. And is amused by Naruto's answer, he goes pfft (hahaha, like what?) I get these femme fatale vibes from Sasuke in that scene.

Just like every time, Sasuke's actions contradicts his own words, only in the case of Naruto (I repeat, it’s just actions..... In case of Sakura, both his actions and words were similar). The more he denies, the more he acts up. And most of the times his actions always surprises the viewers.

Just before they meet in the Orochimaru hideout, when Sai was introducing himself, Sasuke was thoroughly not interested or even annoyed by his presence and bluntly told, 'Get lost'. But the moment, Sai started to speak about Naruto, Sasuke started to pay attention to him and Orochimaru, Kabuto definitely notice this.

And later, he casually says, 'Oh, there was a guy like that?'. At this point, even I felt Sasuke changed.

But then, the moment he met Naruto, he just acted out completely contrary to what he said before. He was teasing the audience for sure, but with Naruto, I see this as an obsession to get close with Naruto, probably because he was seeing someone who was once close to him after 2.5 years, and wanted to say ‘Hi, what are you doing here? You want to become Hokage and why care about me at all?. Anyways, I am going to kill you like last time’.

Naruto always looks complicated because he knew Sasuke cares about him atleast a little bit and was wondering ‘Still, Why are you doing this?’.

For us viewers, am sure Sasuke's sensual approach makes our skin crawling. A snake-ish femme fatale vibe, maybe?? I think kishi did it deliberately for that very purpose to tease the readers 'What has Sasuke become? Why is he doing this!??'.

Apart from these, Naruto does know one thing for sure about him. That Sasuke doesn’t give a damn about anyone in Konoha other than him.

How did he know?

From the VoTE1 battle. Sasuke made himself clear, he was done with Konoha and all the comrades. But when Naruto asked him, ‘Am I nothing to you, don’t you consider me your comrade?’. To which Sasuke says, ‘You became my closest friend’. He even acknowledge that their bond existed back when they were kids.

Especially when they are trapped inside Susanno during Tsukuyomi. Sasuke implies that Naruto and Sasuke's lives are more important than others ( dissing Sakura and Kakashi) and then says to Naruto, you know what I am saying, don't you? And Naruto teases, just like him, saying his body also moves on its own.

Again, this is another scene which shows his Obsession towards saving Naruto.

Sasuke is literally telling him, ‘Kakashi and Sakura are useless, why bother saving?’

It’s not just with Sakura and Kakashi. It’s just with everyone throughout the war.

I found the following scene to be interesting and logical.

Here, Naruto was worked up because he lost Obito and here Sasuke was again asking him to ditch Obito and come with him, which is logical. Not everyone can empathize and cry like a baby in a battlefield. Someone has to be reasonable.

Basically I think it’s part of his character. He always stays focused, calculative and perceptive about everything happening around and takes the best course of action even at the expense of losing people EXCEPT for NARUTO which was evident from the way he wanted to save only Jugo and Naruto.

It’s kind of ‘I don’t care about whatever things you care about, but I do care about you’. I think this is kind of a mild Obsession.

It’s exactly because of that Obsession, Sasuke snapped out after hearing about Itachi’s true motivations behind the massacre. ‘I don’t care about whatever Itachi cared about (Konoha) but I do care about Itachi a lot and that’s why I am going to destroy Konoha’.

According to Sasuke, these very obsession is kind of a weakness for him which influences his decision a lot. Because Itachi and Naruto are the only people who can influence Sasuke’s heart and he doesn’t want anyone to affect his heart. Itachi was dead already. Only Naruto remains. And Naruto being emotionally perceptive, he somehow knows that he is Sasuke’s weakness just like Sasuke knows that he is Naruto’s strength.

That’s why Naruto looks complicated when Sasuke asked, ‘I know your heart, you know mine. Right, Naruto?’. Naruto knows, Sasuke knows. But we, audience don’t know, unless we pay close attention to the hints.

In Boruto, however, I don’t find anything special. Except for this one.

This proves one thing. These guys have been keeping up with these childish contests for a very long time, through the Letters or Texts, I don’t know which one. But somehow, it appears Sasuke is very interested to play rivalry contest with Naruto through letters than writing one for his ‘beloved’ wife and daughter. Funny. LOL.

It is because of that Obsession and Love, like you said, Sasuke doesn’t appear like an emotionless machine but more like a lovable boy who was lost in darkness.

#naruto #naruto analysis #ask #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #sasuke #sasunarusasu #sasunaru

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stellarrmoon · 4 years ago

Text

Black Sand and Copy Cat

Pairing: kakashi x reader

Genre: smut; 1/???

Warnings: get some water.

Status: unedited

Background: you're a sand shinobi sent to the leaf village in order to learn some new skills. Except, you dont look like everyone else; and that catches the attention of the Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake.

I settled into my room nicely, being escorted by a Jonin ninja to my quarters and left to my own space. It was only 4 in the afternoon and I was feeling ready for dinner. I didn't know how I could go into the village without raising as much curiosity as much as I did in front of Lady Tsunade.

I was clearly different from the people here and some wouldn't take kindly to me purely because I was clearly foreign. But I had a solution to limit the uproar. I had only come with a backpack filled with one day's change of clothes, weapons and bandages to wrap around my face.

Lady Tsunade assured me that I wouldn't have to worry about anything during my stay and I trusted her word, seeing as how she and her ninja accepted me quite quickly. I heard a knock on my door and opened it to reveal the Jonin who brought me to my room.

"A few of us would like to invite you to dinner tonight. Since you don't know anyone, we thought it was the best way to get you to meet a few people in the village so that you're not completely lonely."

I could tell that he was still curious about my origins by the way he looked at my hair but I didn't think much of it. "Thank you, I'll be there."

"That's great!" He beamed, "I'll send one of my friends to come escort you."

I spent about an hour in my room carving the few weapons I had brought with me. About 3 knives had already been sharpened and there were only 2 left, counting the one in my hand. I was in my own peace until I was interrupted by a knock.

That must be my escort.

I shouted that "I'm coming!", and wrapped bandages around my neck and the lower half of my face so only my eyes and forehead were shown. When I opened the door, I was met with the same white haired man who startled me earlier. "Oh, it's you."

He was reading a book as he leaned against the wall across my door, not caring that I wasn't pleased to see him. "Yes, it is me. I take it you're ready to go, Ms Amabel."

I narrowed my eyes, "How do you know my full name?"

"I asked around." He said as he flipped a page in his book, "Let's go, or else they'll finish all the meat."

I closed my door and followed the man - "Kakashi" - outside of the building and onto the street. This time, he didn't bother making conversation

"So what is the reason that you are so closed off that you can't even entertain a tiny conversation with me?"

Or so I thought.

You resisted the urge to scoff, his attitude was too nonchalant for your liking. He asked like it wasn't weird for him to be so curious about a visiting resident. "Come on, Ms Amabel, don't leave my poor soul hanging."

"I can hear your smirk inside your stupid mask."

"Ooh, a fiesty one, aren't you?"

"Are we there yet?!"

He closed his book and put it into one of his vest pockets, "Patience, bunny."

"Excuse me?!"

"Kakashi!" A loud voice called before I could continue, and it was coming from the entrance of the shop we were standing in front of. The voice belonged to a man donned in a green jumpsuit and vest with a shining bowl cut and bushy brows. "You're late to the dinner which makes me the winner of the race!" He exclaimed quite excitedly.

I heard Kakashi sigh beside me, causing my lip to quirk as I thought of him being irritated by something as pretentious as this guy in front of us. Suddenly, the intense man turned to you and came incredibly close to inspect me. I was weirded out already as he invaded my personal space but when he wiped his thumb on my forehead, I screamed. He responded by screaming as well and jumped back.

"Kakashi! What is this?"

He asked as if I wasn't clearly a person. Kakashi cleared his throat, "She's the representative of the Sand village we were told about last week, Guy."

"B-b-b-but... she's..."

"I'm what?" I asked softly, looking the now fearful man in the eye, daring him to say what was in his mind.

Aside from that startling question, I had a fairly good dinner. The jonin I met were all kind, even the super weird guy with his big brows. It gave me a slight sense of home and how all my comrades would find ways to make our table the loudest whenever we ate out.

Kakashi took me back to my place and by the end of the night, my thoughts about him had changed. At first, I was just skeptical about the sneaky guy and a tad irritated by his joking demeanor, but something about him seemed so genuine that I decided to give the guy a chance. I couldn't say he was attractive, purely because I couldn't see his face at all but something about his aura intrigued me about him. Why was he a mystery?

Scolding myself for thinking about him, I shook my head and gathered my things to get ready for the day. Since it was winter, the mornings were still dark but I estimated it was around 5 o'clock. I mentally thanked myself that I had braided my hair last night because who knew what state it would be in after my sleep.

I wrapped a towel around my body and grabbed my toiletries to go to the communal bathrooms. Of course, I had to use shoes inside because I didn't know what could infect me. Unfortunately, I didn't know which way to go and I stood, confused, at the at the top of a staircase at the end of the corridor.

"Wanna know where the bathroom is?"

"Shit!" I jumped at the voice right beside my ear, turning around to face a muscular, bare chest that belonged to none other than Kakashi. I looked up to his masked face and scowled. "Stop sneaking up on me."

"Where's the fun in that, Bunny?"

"Bunny? Why do you call me Bunny?"

He chuckled as if it was obvious. I couldn't stop myself from looking at his exposed torso and internally gasping at how well-built he was. "I call you that because you're so jumpy..." he leaned down beside my ear again. This time, I sensed him take off his mask so his lips brushed against my ear as he said, "...Bunny."

I couldn't move, even when he pulled away and walked past me.

"Bunny?" I quickly turned. "Aren't you coming to wash up?"

I almost cursed at his tilted head, "Fine."

As hard as I sounded on the outside, I was actually losing my mind at what just happened. He was so close to me and with only a towel around his waist. I couldn't deny that his body was amazing, and it had been a while since I last felt the touch of a man. Who knew what this guy could do with his hands, and a small part of me wanted to find out.

Two flights of stairs later and "We're here. The bathrooms aren't separated into male and female so everyone can see everyone. But lucky for you, it's just the two of us up this early."

Lucky? What's lucky about being naked around a guy I met a day ago?

It's a hot guy you met a day ago, my subconscious said.

Kakashi entered the bathroom swiftly, choosing a showerhead right in the middle and getting to his business. I took the showerhead opposite his because it was the best way to hide my body from him; if I chose one to the sides, he could easily have peeped over. I set the water to piping hot, turning around to let it hit my back just the right way and solicit a dragged out moan from me.

"That's an interesting sound."

I opened my eyes to see Kakashi facing me and his hair was drenched, falling over the one side of his face that wasn't exposed. "Eek! You pervert!"

I hurriedly overed my body with my arms and hands, turning back around and trying not to freak out. "I'm not the one who chose the shower closest to me."

It wasn't long until I felt his presence right behind me and something poking my lower back. Holy shit. "Nice ass, Bunny."

Without another word, I heard Kakashi leave the bathroom and I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. "What the hell just happened, Ama?"

It had been a weak since I had arrived at the Leaf village and I was still thinking about that moment I had with Kakashi in the bathroom. 1st of all, I didn't even know he was living in the same lodge as me, and 2nd, the man pretended as if nothing happened. He wasn't escorting me to places anymore due to how he had his own group of young ninjas to train and look after, which made me sad a little but I figured that the less we spent time together, the better.

I attended training every single day, spending a total of 12 hours learning techniques and the basics. I had a kind mentor named Anko and she was patient with me. She praised the fact that my body was in good enough shape to handle the training and questioned me about why my chakra was so strong for someone who wasn't a shinobi at my age of 19. I didn't know anything except for the fact that the woman who found me as a baby, was a witch who gave me power to survive in Japan.

She looked after me while she stayed in the Sand Village and it was only recently that she left on her "next quest", she put it. I was sad that the woman who moulded me into who I am today had to leave but I understood her reasons.

It was only midday and Anko had taken me to the forest to do target practice with my knives and shuriken. We had been going at it for a while until a ninja disturbed us, whispering to Anko about something I was obviously not supposed to hear. "Ama. I have to leave."

"What? But I haven't finished my training for today."

She sighed and started walking backwards as the other ninja ran, "I know, I'm sorry. But they've sent someone here to help you for the rest of the day!" Her voice drifted as she got farther away.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, a bit bummed that she wouldn't be here later to spar with me.

"Aww, don't pout, Bunny."

I looked up to see Kakashi hanging from a tree. "What the hell is up with you and sneaking up on me? Do you enjoy seeing me lose my breath?"

"Of course I do!" He jumped down to stand right in front of me, "I wanna try another way of making you do that, though."

My jaw dropped as soon as he said the suggestive words, "How can you be so relaxed about saying words like that?"

"I have nothing to lose, Bunny." He started going to different trees and marking them with Xes as he spoke to me.

"What about your job?"

"Why would I lose my job for giving you an extra warm welcome?" He looked at me. "It's not like you don't enjoy it."

"...Liar." I hesitated.

"Is that why your nipples were so hard in the bathroom last week?"

He had me speechless, I didn't know what to do in front of this guy. He was too good at being himself.

"Anyways, let's carry on with your training, yeah?"

"You're Anko's substitute?" I resisted the urge to laugh but I ended up letting out a chuckle at the thought of this guy teaching me. "You have to be kidding me. You can't be as good as Anko."

"No, Bunny, I'm better. Have you not heard of my reputation?" With each word he spoke, he took a step closer to me, "I'm one of the Leaf Villages best ninja. See this eye right here," He lifted his headband to reveal his left eye which was a bloody red colour and decorated by a long scar running vertically down the skin over underneath, "this eye lets me figure out my prey's moves before they can even make them. They call me the copy-ninja because I always catch my prey, and Bunny..."

He did something I wasn't expecting and placed his cold hand on my exposed midriff. "Kakashi."

"You are my most enticing prey."

I only saw pale skin for a second when Kakashi pulled his mask down, before he crashed his lips into mine and started kissing me like he was starved. My body reacted on its own as I melted into his body and let his arms support me while I let him suck on my tongue. This kiss was unlike any I had ever had; it was full of hunger and want and passion, most of it coming from him but it was a moment where I couldn't deny my strong attraction to him.

One of his hands travelled to my thigh, which he hiked up and wrapped my leg around his waist. The other quickly followed and he leaned me against a nearby tree to make things easier. Soon, his lips moved from my lips to my jaw to my neck and it wasn't until they reached the top of my cleavage that I had to stop him.

"Kakashi, wait."

He stopped. He leaned his forehead on my chest and I could feel his grip on my thighs loosening. In the next minute, Kakashi had put his mask back on and let me stand on me feet, leaving space between us for me to talk.

"I don't want to do this here."

"I can see that. Let's get to your training, shall we?"

I couldn't sleep. No matter how hard I tried. For the past 3 days, I couldn't get the image of that kiss I had with Kakashi in the forest and I was yearning for more. Fed up, with the cycle, I grabbed the nightgown I had bought a few days ago and wore it before stepping out. I knew there was a rooftop so I headed up the stairs and stepped onto the gravel before I noticed, at the rail, none other than...

"Kakashi." I breathed out.

His figure turned and as he did so, the moonlight shone on his body, making the muscles look better than ever. "Ms Amabel."

I chuckled as I walked towards him, "What, no 'Bunny' today?"

He smiled and that's when I noticed that he had his mask off. I couldn't see much because of the dark but I could tell that he was beautiful. He had a long, pointed nose that was slightly upturned and his lips were soft but plump, exactly as how I felt them against mine. He had a mole next to his bottom lip that made him look even more charming. This man was a dream. "You like it when I call you Bunny?"

Suddenly, I got shy and looked down, playing with my thumbs. "Well... yeah."

He grabbed a hold of my waist and pulled me flush against his body. Even though he was wearing long pants, I could feel his hard-on against me. "If I call you Bunny, what do you call me?"

This man seemed hellbent on fucking me. The way he spoke and the way he held me - the way he looked at me. It's like I was... his prey.

"Well?"

I looked into his differently coloured eyes and found myself getting lost in them. "Kakashi..."

He laughed boisterously, "Really? You're gonna stick with Kakashi?"

"No... I was thinking maybe, Daddy?"

He let out a groan and his grip was tighter on me, "Don't joke with me, Bunny."

"I'm not." Now I looked at him more intently. I needed us to get into a room now. "Let's go." I whispered into his chest.

Before I could say another word, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Kakashi!" I giggled while he snickered. He basically jumped down the stairs until we reached his room and he slammed the door shut with his foot.

I was thrown onto the bed, resting back on my forearms to admire his physique. Moonlight peaked though the window and highlighted his body. "You're staring quite a lot, aren't you?"

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not if you'll let me return the favor." He grabbed a chair and made himself comfortable, manspreading right in from me.

Usually, I was a person who liked to keep to myself but when it came to pleasing a partner - especially one who made me as aroused as Kakashi - I had no boundaries. I figured I'd tease him a little bit before I got to showing him what he wanted to see.

"Come on, Bunny, don't make me beg." His voice was soothing as he watched me let down the straps of my nightgown one by one. He followed my hands as they played with the hem and started lifting it up. The closer I got to exposing myself, the more Kakashi leaned forward, but I pulled it back down at the last moment, giggling at Kakashi's shocked face.

I knew it! "You're a perv, Mr Hatake. But that kinda makes me excited."

Finally, I pulled the dress over my head and threw it on the floor. I felt my boobs bounce as I let Kakashi drink in the sight of me. "It's gonna be hard for me to keep my hands to myself if I watch you."

"Then touch me, Daddy."

Kakashi swiftly glided to kiss me, holding my hands to the bed by my wrists as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I was already a bit wet from feeling his dick earlier but he was making me wetter. He wasted no time getting to kiss every inch of my body, from my neck to my boobs, my tummy and legs. He paid special attention to my boobs and thighs, saying they were "fucking amazing" which only led me to yearn for him more.

The way his hands were all over my skin made me burn up and his voice as he praised my body made me all the needier. "Kakashi..."

"Yes, baby..."

His hand travelled to my mound which caused me to gasp as he cupped it.

"I'm gonna make this mine, Bunny."

A slim finger slid up my slit, collecting the sticky wetness that had already collected there. I watched as he started to play with my pussy. Kneeling in front of my open legs, Kakashi circled and pressed against my clit in such a way that had me squirming. He was taking his time with me but all I wanted was to feel him deep inside my heat.

I was only letting out soft, sweet moans; back arched and head thrown back when he started to tease the area around my opening. "Please..." I sounded like a whore.

He pushed the fingers I fantasized about in the past into me, making me tense in pleasure. In and out, he started to maneuver them, making me writhe from his touch and play with my own boobs.

"Ah... yes, Kakashi, just like that." I mewled as I felt his fingers curling inside me; they kept hitting a spot that made me go crazy, and my sounds seemed to encourage him.

"You look so beautiful right now, Amabel. My hand's covered in your juices and they're glistening in the moonlight right now, baby. That's how wet I made you, you know that?"

Kakashi himself was breathless as he watched my body shine with sweat while I kept myself from screaming at his touch. With the pace getting faster, so did the frequency of my moans. "Ah...ah! Oh my God, Kakashi, please make me cum."

Those words triggered him to grant me my wish as his mouth latched onto my clit and he got to licking and sucking. I felt it coming soon and struggled to keep my hips on the bed, Kakashi's hand on my lower belly the only thing keeping me steady. He moaned, the vibration causing me to still as I felt my stomach twist into the tightest knot.

"Kakashi, I'm cumming!!!"

I cried through my orgasm as I rode his fingers and face. I opened my eyes through it and he was watching my pussy convulse and pulse as kept pumping his fingers. "That's it, Bunny. Cum for me more."

He had a sadistic smile as he watched me lose control, finally deciding it was time for him to feel you around his length. Kakashi pulled out his fingers, before suddenly slamming his hard dick into my tightness. I silently screamed, rolling my eyes to the back of my head as he tried to burrow deeper inside me.

"Fuck, baby, it won't fit."

He took a deep breath before starting to roll his hips. They moved in waves, a continuous rhythm that had his penis entering and pulling out of my pussy in regular intervals, the squishing of my wetness very prominent in every thrust. "Ka-ka-shi..."

I purred into his ear while he buried his head in my neck, biting and kissing at my skin while one hand fondling a breast. "You feel so good, Bunny. Fuck, it's so tight."

"Mmmm Daddy, please go faster." I pulled his hair one last time before he lifted himself off my upper body and started thrusting at a greater speed. The sound of our skin slapping along with our moans and groans and cries made the room as erotic as ever.

"I'm gonna make you cum so hard, Bunny. Just look Daddy in the eye and make sure you let me know just how good I'm making your pussy feel."

Right when he placed my legs over his shoulders, I did what he said and good God, did his Sharingan eye not make me cum. "Daddyyyyyy!!! Ughhhhhhh!!!"

I screamed his name while the eye glowed and tears flowed down my face since he kept going and pounding me relentlessly as I orgasmed. I felt another one coming when he kept hitting my g-spot and tightened around his thick shaft, my walls keeping him locked in his position. I could feel him throb inside me. "You're so amazing, baby. Daddy's not even close to being done with you."

He pulled out, making me see just how big he was. He had to be at least 10 inches, with a good girth as well. I couldn't admire his appendage long enough because he flipped me over with ease and like before, rammed into my already sensitive heat. My juices were already coating my thighs and the area above his dick, I wondered how long he could go.

"Kakashi!" The man held my arms behind my back with one hand and grabbed my throat with the other. As soon as he pulled my body up, he didn't stop fucking up into me. We kissed as I felt another one coming, the lack of control I had over myself turning me on to the maximum. I felt the blood to my head stop circulating and felt my eyes closing.

"You wanna pass out taking my dick, Bunny? Hm, you wanna go to sleep knowing I own your pussy like this?" His voice was gruff, as if a monster had taken over him.

"Yes Daddy, please. Make me yours now. I'll do anything to feel it again, just use my body how you want!"

His grip on my neck tightened and again, I looked at his red eye. As if he saw what was coming next, Kakashi widened his eyes and gave one last thrust into me and we both came. His eye glowed brightly as he coated my walls with his seed and held my body as I shook from my most intense orgasm.

Surprisingly, he still felt hard inside me so he gave one last thrust that triggered something in me causing my body to let go of so much liquid it wet most of the sheets. It went on for a few moments as my strangled moan came out while my pussy spasmed again. "Fuuuuuck Kakashi!"

He kissed me deeply for a few seconds before delicately, guiding my body off his dick. I felt our combined cum spill out of me but I didn't have the energy to worry about it. Instead, I turned to look at Kakashi who had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Where are we gonna sleep?" I inquired.

#hatake #kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #copy ninja #kakashi smut #lemon #naruto #naruto shippuden #shinobi #sand shinobi #leaf village #tsunade

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arsnovacadenza · 4 years ago

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Day 2: Standoff

Characters: Napoleon Bonaparte & Wellington (OC by @batteryrose) Pairings : Napolington gen/pre-slash

“En Garde!”

By the third day, Leon was brave enough to look over his back.

He noticed somebody had been watching him as he left the airplane wreckage after looting for rations. Although they were distant, the crunching sounds his stalker's footsteps made were audible.

If they were in a war, he might have thought of them as foolish. But there was no war. There hadn't been any for years. Minuscule battles still occurred here and there, including the skirmish his squad encountered before they were separated from each other.

Now it's just you and I, Leon smiled wryly. Why you still think of me as a threat, I have no idea.

How long had they been alone?

Before this, the French soldier had been moving from one settlement to another, searching for a radio. Every building had been long abandoned, and he struggled to find one with working electricity. Sleeping places weren't hard to find (if you considered those cracker-thin mattresses comfortable), and neither was running water.

But scouring for food was an entirely different matter. Leon was no picky eater. His training (as well as recurring unfortunate circumstances) allowed him to withstand a relatively unchanging diet of flavorless protein bars. But even those were scarce.

Leon remembered the days when he and his comrades would keep an eye out for farms around their vicinity. At night, they'd jump over the fences and slaughtered whatever animals they came across. If they were lucky, they'd carry off a sack of potatoes or two.

It was unethical, they acknowledged. Nothing was in this fast decaying, dog-eat-dog world.

"At least no one's been murdered." His friend Joachim joked. "Hell, I heard that folks one town over from mine used to kill visiting foreign officers and cooked them!"

The town he was referring to had turned to dust long before they were born. Joachim himself disappeared one day during foraging and never returned.

Leon breathed out a long, deep sigh before he stood.

Reluctantly, he reached out for his rifle. Showdown or no, he needed to look for more bullets. Ignoring the eyes that were following him, Leon continued on his way.

Leon stared at his reflection. Dark circles were already taking shape under his eyes. The watering hole would've been a great place to nap if it wasn't for the lone soldier trailing him.

As if he was one to talk. What soldier under pursuit would do his laundry out in the open? Leon chuckled, imagining how baffled the other must have been seeing him setting up a clothesline and washing his shirt and jacket in just his undershirt.

But to Leon, his display of vulnerability was good enough of an invitation. If his predictions were correct, his adversary would come out of hiding and approach, knowing Leon meant no harm.

Not that he expected too much of their possible confrontation. If things took a turn for the worst, he would at least be free of starvation and solitude. Maybe he'd even reunite with Joachim and the others.

His sanity slippage must be very severe if he thought dying by an enemy's bullet was ideal, Leon thought.

Not that he had to wait too long for the end to arrive. Boots clunked heavily on the giant steel plate he was sitting on. Apparently, their owners no longer bothered to conceal their presence anymore.

Without waiting for Leon to turn around, the stalker greeted him in English. "Bold of you to turn your back on an enemy soldier. Are you not afraid of dying?"

Ah, it's a he. And just as desperate as I am.

"Other things can kill me faster." Leon promptly replied, the words rolling off oddly from his tongue. He hadn't spoken French in what felt like ages, let alone English.

Silence fell between them, the foreign man seemingly at a loss for words. Sighing, Leon got up on his feet and finally turned to face his opponent for the very first time.

The man's uniform confirmed him as an enemy soldier, alright. He was taller and had a slightly bigger build. Leon could make out tufts of unruly sandy blonde hair peeking out from beneath the soldier's helmet. Another defining feature was his icy blue eyes, glaring straight at the Frenchman before him.

Leon especially found it striking that the soldier wasn't even aiming his rifle at him. He was cradling the firearm diagonally across his chest, the muzzle raised above his left shoulder. The sleeves of his jacket were rolled back to expose well-defined forearms.

"Don't— don't be alarmed." Leon tried assuring him. "I'm holding no arms. I don't want to fight. See?" He gestured towards his clothesline and scattered equipment.

His opponent's eyes darted around the site before scrutinizing Leon from top to bottom. Eventually, he lowered his rifle with some hesitation.

"How ludicrous," The soldier scoffed without much bite. "The men from my company were fools, the lot of them. But I've never met anyone as reckless as you." Judging from his accent, the man was nowhere akin to the American soldiers Leon saw in the field.

"I," Leon struggled to come up with a witty remark on his own. "I'm alone." he blurted out.

That was a nonsensical response if he were to go with the man's confounded expression. After a long, awkward pause, the gentleman cleared his throat.

"That makes the two of us, then." He set the weapon down and let it rest by his leg.

Relieved, Leon straightened back and rested a hand on his hip. The man seemed trustworthy, at least for now. All he had to do now was play the gracious host.

Until he kills me or leaves on his own, I guess.

"So," he cheerfully piped, mustering all his remaining charisma. "Are you hungry? I don't have much, but please help yourself." He invited the soldier to his makeshift encampment. "Do you still have rations?"

The soldier smiled wryly. "No. I was down to two bars when I came down to that wreckage. Was planning to loot some supplies, but there you were, an enemy soldier." He grumbled in laborious breaths. "I had been sustaining myself on those bars and some water those whole three days I followed you."

"How did you manage?"

"Fed on sheer anger." The Englishman flashed a smirk. "I was so jealous seeing you munching on those bars without a care in this bloody, shithole of a world. Hell, I was eager to shoot you right then and there before stripping you of every last protein bar you have."

Leon burst into a laugh, startling the poor soldier a second time.

His laughter rang loud and free, and Leon didn't care. It was a sign that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope after all these wretched months spent hungry and desolate.

The man peered at him with astonished, yet curious eyes.

"Pardon me," Leon apologized after his laughter died down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you. Um, I think I did not catch your name."

"Wellesley. Arthur Wellesley," He introduced himself with poise. "Second Lieutenant of the Royal Irish Regiment, 1st Battalion."

"Nice to meet you, Wellesley," The Frenchman stuck out his hand. "Bonaparte. Corporal Napoleon Bonaparte. But ranks no longer mean anything, no?" he grinned. "Call me Leon."

"Likewise," Wellesley accepted his handshake. " 'Arthur' is alright. Or call me Wells," the man muttered with a light blush on his cheeks. "That's what the blokes from my old regiment called me."

Leon nodded, standing back and regarding his new friend appreciatively.

"So, then, Wells." His emerald eyes glinted with newfound spirit. "What shall we do next?"

So with a 1, 2, 3, we will pick up our feet

Forgetting yesterday and every day, they don't mean a thing

Another 1, 2, 3, don't stop moving your feet

I'm sure that's all that we, that's all that we need.

Notes:

Made for Day 2 of Napoleon Birthday Prompt 2020 by @kissmetwicekissmedeadly .The lyrics I put in the ending are taken from this English cover of an anime OP.

Also, Napoleon could've just gone with "Leon" instead of "Napoleone". It's less conspicuous for a nickname and it would suit him just fine.

#ikevam napoleon #napoleon birthday prompt 2020 #napolington #ikevamp wellington #ikevamp oc #riri tries ikevam #I tried

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onf-headcanons · 4 years ago

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ONF MEMBERS AS YOUR SIBLING (Hyojin & Laun version)

So if you had already known me I tend to keep my hcs flexible. Same goes to this ONF DUO as siblings au. It can be either you are blood related with one of them or even not. Also doable if you are older than them, your birthday are in between them, or even you are the youngest, have fun!

Now this duo is super fun because they share the same family name even though not related. Which makes there is new scenario possibility. All of you related by blood is a very lazy way to open up possibilities for fun hcs.

1. Either you three are not related by blood at all. Hyojin and Minseok sharing the same family name are just pure coincidence but from different ancestry

2. Hyojin and Minseok are related with the same biological parents but you are from the new parent that married with one of their parent

3. Hyojin and you met in young age due to marriage of both of your parent and they give birth to Minseok later

4. Either you are related from Hyojin or Minseok side and either one of them later joined the family. Confusing? OK example you are Hyojin's sibling by blood and then later Minseok joined. Or in reversed, Hyojin joined. (this is for the reader to share same family name with them both)

Any scenario that is suitable to your own imagination. Also there will be some repeating ideas because i would like to keep characterization consistency

My recommendation, your birthday is in between than both of them. And I totally recommend the 3rd sibling type one

So let dive into the hcs~!

Let's list the common hcs first

You will have the sneaky and sometimes loud? younger brother and the really docile one baby younger brother

Oh did I mention, visually pleasing little brothers?

Hyojin as younger brother is like all normal younger brother. Its a love hate relationship. It is more like it that way if you two are blood related (refer to vlive where he talks about his sister, as per his words they fought alot and she "nearly" beaten him half death lmao)

If Hyojin is the elder brother, you get a really caring sibling but also a nagger. You know he meant you good but sometimes it reminds you of your parent🤣

Hyojin plays a big part of making Minseok comfortable when the Leo firstly joins the household. Cues in Hyojin is more attentive towards Minseok because he got a younger brother (if you are to be the sister sibling), so he is trying to bond with him.

On the other hand, if Hyojin is the new joined, Minseok will be the one helping him to open up quicker. Because who can resist Minseok when he is being attentive though. Also Minseok bombing Hyojin with questions due to curiosity.

If you are not related with Hyojin by blood, you both will tend to be more cautious towards each other

If you are not related with Minseok by blood,this boy has so many questions for you because he would like to know you better

But once opened up Hyojin will be your partner in mischievous pranks and comrade in weird funny antics just to try to make Minseok laugh. It is more so if Minseok is born later on and you two elder siblings sometimes in charge of taking care of the younger boy.

Once opened up, Minseok will be the best younger brother in the world. Looks up to both of his elder siblings.

Especially if Minseok is born after the marriage, you two kind of sees him as the main button/string/link for both sides of the family

When your parents brought baby Minseok home for the first time, you two are super fascinated at the smol human being and being very very protective of baby Minseok

Taking turns feeding baby Minseok with his milk bottle. Cues in both parents could not stop taking photos because you 3 are too precious

Also not really linking the universe/au, but Hyojin brings Seungjoon home while Minseok brings Yuto (short term exchange student) home

Don't expect much of Hyojin helping you on your homework. If you do ask, he might gonna nag you lol. Minseok? His curriculum are not the same as yours to begin with🤣

When presenting gifts to Minseok during his birthday, you and Hyojin always dead by drowning into Minseok 's warm smile

You two elder siblings thinks that Minseok is cute becauee he cannot handle carbonated drinks (if i am not mistaken, he cannot handle coffee too)

Scenario 1. If you are related with any one of them

He is also a scaredy cat so you also got used to him screaming when he is startled.

It will be fun contrast that you are the calm type and do horror but Hyojin is the exact opposite lol.

Already used to Hyojin singing in the household. And you are supportive towards him singing. Even teasing him that he should go for audition (if you imagined a normal household)

Another contrast if you actually cannot sing but then later found out your dancing trait when you interacted with Minseok. Will elaborate below

Minseok as your younger brother is a very attentive type of brother. He knows all your likes and dislikes.

As Minseok's elder sibling, you know Minseok loves to dance. And might also occasionally joins Minseok when he does girl groups dance cover

Both of you lowkey screaming at dance practice videos of the girl groups that you two really like. Cues in the clueless Hyojin passing through lol. And then peeks his head to see what are you guys up to. Letting out his signature oohs and aaahs praising you two doing good job

Scneario 2. If you are not related with any one of them

If you three only meet each other during teenage, it will take a bit of time for the Taurus boy to adjust. But the Leo boy is fine.

Maybe Hyojin is cautious that he lowkey nag at Minseok to not bother you too much.

Amazed at how much they can eat. Especially Hyojin. His love for food is no joke.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, you caught a hungry Hyojin in the pantry/kitchen. Out of guilt he might offer you a bite just to bribe you to not tell the others

You seen a few times Hyojin snaps at Seungjoon because the latter keep calling Hyojin "piggy". So you keep that in mind and never call him that.

Oh if you are happened to the only child, seeing Hyojin and Minseok interaction made you felt cozy and a bit jealous. But they won't let you feel like outsider for long.

So maybe anyone of you or maybe parents suggested you 3 should hangout. And in a weird coincidence, you 3 decided to hang out at karaoke. And then you get the chance to hear Hyojin sing. You (and Minseok) are left in awe.

You might slowly lower down your mic and not sing for the rest of the karaoke session. And keep making excuses because you are not confident

If you happened to share the same song/playlist taste as Hyojin, you two will bond quick

Once you thought there is not one at home and then you started hunming a small tune of a song you really liked while you are on the way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water (one of the song in Hyojin's playlist too). Then only find Hyojin is actually sitting at the couch, texting.

Cues in cheeky Hyojin encourage you to sing

If you happened to found out Minseok listens to a girl group you like as well, you both bonds quicker. Also Minseok teaching you how to dance the chorus of the song from the group you love. Even though you are kind of sloppy at sharp moves, Minseok still won't stop praising you.

A/N : gonna stop here for now

#onf #onf imagines #onf scenarios #onf headcanon #onf headcanons #kim hyojin #onf hyojin #hyojin #kim minseok #onf laun #laun #sibling!au #sibling!onf #sibling!hyojin #sibling!laun #sibling!minseok

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years ago

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Comfort a Little Dream N°8 [I don't know what I like better between suffering and dying.]

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Careful, there are explicit scenes in this story (violence) !Have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

Underlust was not the most pleasant place to live, Dream had always known that. The signs were multiple: a lot of negativity came from this world, and the dreams of the inhabitants were ... hard to watch. Very hard to look at. The young caretaker had already found himself giving dreams that he himself didn't want to describe, so ashamed of what he had created. But he had continued to give birth to dreams that he hated, simply because it made other people happy. People who perhaps didn't deserve to be happy after all...

He shook his head. No, he couldn't think like that. Everyone deserved to be happy. Didn't they? What was he supposed to think now... ? Now that he'd faced the harsh reality? He didn't know. He didn't want to know anymore. He didn't want to go back into anyone's dreams for a while, let alone the dreams of the Undertlust.

And Underlust was worse than he imagined. Ink had warned him several times, telling him not to go there physically because it could go wrong, and Dream had obeyed him without hesitation, believing that he didn't need to set foot there anyway, that going into dreams was more than enough.

Yeah, he should have settled for dreams...

The streets were crowded, full of monsters laughing loudly, jostling without deigning to apologize, reeking of alcohol, cigarettes and drugs. All this mixed together gave a certain headache to the poor Dream who could barely keep up with the march, looking for Dust, Horror or Nightmare eyes, for fear of getting lost in this oppressive crowd.

But he couldn't see them anymore. Panic gripped him as he turned his head in all directions, not understanding how he had lost them so quickly. He tried to concentrate on their magic, but was lost when he was hit again. He grimaced as the pain in his arm woke up, only intensifying his anguish a little more, and he thought he was cracking when a wandering hand slipped across his buttocks.

But this hand did not remain for long: its owner screamed in terror, collapsing to the ground groaning in pain, holding his arm, which had just been broken at a perfectly abnormal angle. Dream held his breath, frightened ... before feeling a familiar hand grasping his arm. He turned to his brother who had joined him and shot the wounded monster with his eyes:

"Don't walk away from me. »

He pulled him into the crowd, managing to pull them out of there and into a quieter alley where Dust and Horror were waiting for them. Nightmare stopped, turned to Dream and examined it carefully, afraid that something worse than the wandering hand might have happened to him.

“Are you gonna be okay, Dream?” Horror asked softly.

The man nodded feverishly, but he was clearly not well in this world of debauchery. Nightmare gave Dust a look, a hesitant look that was understood as 'I don't know what to do, help me'. Dust in turn approached Dream and gently put a hand on his head, gently caressing him with a comforting smile:

“Don't worry, the rest of the night's gonna be a lot different.”

He took him by the hand and led him to a rather remote house, far from the bustle of the city. Nightmare held back a grunt: he wanted Dust to help him, but he wasn't sure he appreciated the strange closeness between him and his brother.

Horror was the first to knock at the house, a huge smile appearing on his face as hurried footsteps were heard inside the house. Dream was surprised, looking with curiosity at the cannibal's attitude, feeling the joy and excitement that was climbing inside him at a crazy speed...

Until the door opens, making it reach the climax.

Lust threw him out of the house, right into the arms of Horror, knocking him over and collapsing in the snow, before the astonished eyes of Dream.

A great burst of laughter resounded, a soft, crystalline laugh. Lust stood up, radiant with joy, on all fours over Horror that he was devouring with his eyes:

“Hello, darling, you're late!”

Horror's smile grew much bigger and he rose abruptly, taking the purple skeleton in his arms and spinning it while holding it close to him:

"Plum! I missed you! »

The concerned one laughed again and came to kiss him passionately.

Dream widened his eyes. He looked at Dust yawning, obviously used to such a spectacle, before turning to Nightmare who looked away with some uneasiness, then he returned to Horror and Lust who were finishing kissing.

“Y ... You're... ?” he stammered shyly, not knowing what to say.

Plum turned to him and opened his eyes wide:

“Dream?! Wow, I didn't recognize you!”

But his face suddenly became much more worried. Confusedly, he looked at the bad guys:

“Um... Wait, I didn't know anything... You took it off again? I told you I wasn't part of your plan anymore!

- We didn't kidnap him, Horror replied. There was... some trouble.

- Worries that don't concern you.” cut Nightmare cold before going into the house.

Lust raised an eyebrow, looked again at Dream who had come to cower behind Dust, trembling. The fragility of the guardian of dreams struck him immediately, gripping his soul more than usual. He approached him gently and approached with a tender smile:

“I hope these fools don't treat you too badly... Anyway you're welcome in my house!”

Dream hesitated for a little while before finally moving away from Dust, to give a feverish smile back to Plum who was even nicer than he remembered. Eventually they all entered the house and the caretaker felt much more at ease.

This house had nothing to do with the outside, not even with his brother's castle. It was a place with a pleasant smell of flowers and warm colours. The floor was heated, an aperitif was placed on the coffee table in front of the TV and the same TV was broadcasting the music videos of the multiverse in the background.

Dream let out a sigh of comfort, relaxing completely in this quiet atmosphere. He shivered, however, when Dust put a hand on his shoulder:

“Will you come and sit down?”

He gently nodded his head and let the taller one lead him to the couch where they both settled down, while Nightmare settled into a recessed chair and Horror and Lust went into the kitchen.

Dream immediately riveted his eyes on the television screen, afraid to meet his brother's gaze. But his brother was getting heavy on the feverish shoulders of the little dream. An intense look, too intense, which did not leave him, which analysed him, which gave him an unpleasant burning sensation.

No, Dream didn't understand this sudden interest in his person, this special attention his brother had been paying to him since his death.... crisis. No, he didn't understand how the prince of nightmares could suddenly change his attitude, trying to protect him from other dangers. In the end, however, it was not so surprising: Nightmare was possessive. Perhaps he wanted to protect Dream only because he aspired to kill it with his own hands?

But in this case, why didn't he do it before? Out of pity, guilt? What a vulgar joke, the prince of nightmares helping the keeper of good feelings...

But what good feelings, when he himself could no longer feel them?

Dust's hand made him jump again. He turned away from his thoughts and turned to his neighbour, who covered him with a serious look. Much too serious. As if he could guess his deepest thoughts.

Dream shivered, wanted to get away from him but held back. He restrained himself when his comrade offered him a drink, gave him a very slight smile. He swallowed his saliva, not understanding why this smile had such an effect on him, such a warm feeling in his stomach.

He accepted the glass feverishly, didn't ask himself the slightest question as he slowly took a sip.

The taste of alcohol made him tense. He didn't like it. He hated it. The bitter taste, too bitter, too strong, that made his head spin in a very unpleasant way. He usually avoided it as much as possible, but tonight ... tonight he allowed himself another sip, then a third.

He let the liquid drain down his throat, gently burning it from the inside.

But the suffering was so minimal compared to what was being inflicted on him up to that point... So minimal that it almost became a pleasure. As if the spirit of the little dream was mocking, taking down this suffering that wasn't really a suffering, as if it sneered, "Ahah, I've been through worse, you can't have me!"

Taken by a desire to defy this pain, to take his limits from above, he finished his glass in one last sip, to return the container to Dust with a look that meant "I want some more".

Dust gauged him for a moment with his eyes before his smile grew larger. He served his young comrade again with great pleasure, ignoring the threatening look that Nightmare had on his face.

Dream's mind quickly fogged up. He was no longer really aware of what was going on around him, only vaguely understood that Horror and Lust had come back into the living room and were chatting with Dust, exchanging words that the caretaker didn't understand, laughing at times without when Dream was fully certain.

The guardian of good emotions simply let himself go in the couch, savouring his third glass of this alcohol which he didn't have the name of, but which seemed to do him good with each sip.

When he had finished that third glass, he felt as if he was floating, as if he had become lighter. He held his glass out in front of him, towards the silhouette he recognized as Dust. He liked Dust. Dust was nice, very nice... The proof was that Dust poured him a fourth time, and it was with an uncontrolled laugh that Dream drank his new drink.

Nightmare frowned:

“Dust, don't tighten it any more.”

But his subordinate ignored him to serve a fifth glass. The negative prince's tentacles became nervously agitated as their owner tensed up a little more, not appreciating the glow he perceived in Dust's eyes. A gleam of anger and defiance, as if the other was trying to push him over the edge.

“Dream has the right to have as much fun as we do.” Dust simply replied.

But that wasn't what Nightmare was thinking, Nightmare knew that. He knew his subordinate: even he wasn't vicious enough to dare to get someone drunk against his will.

“Do you think he's having fun? replied the master. He's on the brink, and you're pushing him further into it by serving him like this!

- So what does it matter to you? Yet it was you who sought to destroy it.”

Nightmare froze, as did Horror and Lust. The latter two hadn't said a word when they noticed the tension between their two comrades, and Dust's last line had ended the atmosphere.

Nightmare's appendages got a little more agitated.

“Yes, I was trying to destroy it.

- You're the one who pushed him over the edge.”

Another slap in the face for the prince of nightmares who was becoming increasingly confused and annoyed by his henchman's attitude. What exactly was Dust looking for? He wanted to make him regret it, to make him face his mistakes when he KNEW that Nightmare was already prey to deep guilt, hatred and anger towards himself? And what was the point of making Dream drink? Was it to preserve the young guardian, that he didn't become aware of their brutal exchange?

Even if they did, Nightmare couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Dram drink knowing that his brother hated it. Knowing that his brother would probably feel much worse the next day, when he would wake up with an unbearable hangover and a deep regret for having let himself go.

Because Dream didn't like to let go. He had never been taught to relax, to let go, to think about himself and not about his responsibilities.

“I'm taking him back.” Nightmare coldly let go of Nightmare as he stood up, retrieving his twin who could barely keep his eyes open, completely exhausted from the alcohol that had drained what little energy he had.

Dust remained silent, reluctant to start a fight which he was sure to lose in a home that was not his own, at the risk of further hurting the little dream that was drowsing.

*** ***

Nightmare appeared in his room in a snap. If the return trip had been without the slightest problem, the arrival in his home changed his brother's behaviour: Dream began to gesticulate vehemently, trying to escape the tentacles that held him firmly while moaning plainly.

“Stop it.” Weighed the master of the house, who certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with a whim, as he tried to undress his brother to put him to bed.

Dream wiggled more beautifully, emitting nothing but squeaks and semblance of incomprehensible sentences. His eyes veiled by alcohol didn't even seem to distinguish where he was or with whom, but it was clear that he didn't appreciate being deprived of his movements.

Nightmare sighed again, realizing that he would achieve nothing with this method. He decided to drop his twin - more or less gently - on the bed, before the twin whimpered and rolled into a ball in the blanket. The prince of nightmares raised a perplexed eyebrow, tidying his tentacles to approach the bed:

“Dream?”

Another squeak. This time, the master of the house had a twinge in his heart, especially when he saw his brother trembling under the duvet. He was terrified. Terrified of Nightmare's presence, even if he didn't do anything to him.

The prince of negativity came and sat down gently on the bed, put a hand on his brother's back and guessed his brother through the duvet:

“Dream, you need to get into your pajamas. You can't sleep like that.”

A short silence during which Nightmare slowly rubbed the back of his cadet, in a timid attempt to calm him down. Finally, Dream took out his face, casting a misty look at his brother, before simply pulling himself out of the blanket to find himself sitting on the mattress as well. Seeing that he wasn't making any more gestures, the owner went back to his original goal, which was to undress his brother.

He removed the purple jacket gently but did not hesitate to throw it to the ground without the slightest respect. The sight of these clothes disgusted him, even more so when they were worn by his brother. These clothes... These clothes reminded him of too many memories, too many things that were long gone, too bitter things that he preferred to forget. To tell the truth, he didn't even know why he had kept them, let alone why he had left them to Dream.

He held back a growl, not wishing to frighten his younger brother again, who had closed his eyes, just about to fall asleep. He let his phalanges run over the blue shirt, removing one by one each button before removing it fully, to send him to join the jacket.

And Nightmare froze.

Oh, he'd already had a chance to see his brother's body. Many, many times. He had seen him a few days before, when he was treating him and changing his bandages. Yet tonight, in the faint moonlight, the body seemed even more fragile than before, as if his brother's bones had become porcelain, glass that could be broken by a touch. The wounds were not healing well, the bruises did not go away, and Nightmare cursed herself. Oh, yes, he cursed himself for being the cause of most of his wounds.

It was an automatism, a reflex, to slide his fingers over an old, very old scar on one of his ribs. A gesture that sent a shiver down the spine of the guardian of dreams, making him open his eyes in surprise.

“N-Night...?”

First understandable word from Dream. First word that froze Nightmare, the petrifying stupor. 'Night'...., the nickname given to him by his childhood brother. The nickname was full of love, which showed their complicity. That nickname...

“...how can you still call me that...?” the corrupt being whispered, his voice trembling without him noticing.

His gaze still wandered through the wounded body, as he felt a horrifying desire to cry taking hold of his soul. His phalanges rested on his brother's hips, with a delicacy that he did not know himself.

“... Dream.... I'm sorry…”

A sob escaped him in spite of himself:

“I'm so sorry…”

He clenched his teeth, closing his eye to keep his tears from coming out. His forehead came to rest against his brother's bare shoulder. He tightened his grip on his little body, slipped his hands behind his back to hold him tight, to feel the little golden soul beat weakly.

“...you should never have had to go through all this, ....you didn't deserve this....!”

What a prick he'd been, what a fucking prick he'd been! A jerk, the worst brother, the worst monster of the multiverse! Nightmare would've probably continued to insult each other for a long time, would've probably hurt his physical integrity... if Dream hadn't stopped him, hadn't hugged him.

The master of the house opened his eyes. His twin responded to his embrace as forcefully as he could, but not without violent tremors:

“... N-Night.... Don’t cry Night.....”

This wave of kindness, this attention that Dream paid to him, had the gift of striking a fatal blow to the master of nightmares who melted into tears, burying his face in his neck. In this strange clear darkness, Dream and Nightmare mingled with cruel sadness.

*** ***

Nightmare hadn't noticed he'd fallen asleep. Perhaps his anguish towards his brother had exhausted him far more than he had let on, pushing him to fall asleep with his twin, keeping him close to him while he plunged into a sleep devoid of dreams and nightmares, not even allowing him to do his job as a guardian.

No, he had not noticed how tired he was, how his mind had finally lost itself in the meanders of unconsciousness. He had not noticed anything ... until a scream woke him up, roughly dragged him out of his sleep and brought him back to reality.

He opened his eyes, his senses on the lookout, without making the slightest movement, while he felt his appendages vibrating in his back, ready to attack the slightest enemy. But they calmed in the moment when, from the corner of his eye, Nightmare saw his brother.

Dream had once again sat down, went through intense spasms as he grabbed his skull, unconsciously scratching himself, his eyes wide open in terror, and the ghastly breath. This vision petrified the nightmare master, who only had the presence of mind to act when his brother let go of his skull to make his soul appear.

Nightmare knew immediately that he had to intervene.

His tentacles spun towards his brother, grabbed his wrists suddenly, forcing him to release the little golden soul.

“LET GO OF ME!”

Dream's scream made him shudder, but he didn't let go. He didn't understand what he was taking from his brother: had he had a nightmare?

“GET OFF ME NOW! DON'T! FUCKING NIGHTMARE !”

The master of the place hiccupped, destabilized by the sudden wave of negativity he perceived, which almost made him bend.

“Dream, calm down, it was only a...! - I HAVE TO DESTROY IT! NOW!”

Dream violently bit a tentacle, surprising his twin who slightly loosened his grip under the pain. The guardian of dreams used this opening to struggle, reaching out his hand towards his soul, which he grasped without the slightest delicacy, pushing his phalanges into it, ignoring the wave of suffering that turned his stomach. His desperate voice rose again:

“I MUST DESTROY IT! OR ELSE... BREAK....! EVERYBODY GO....!”

He squeezed harder, breathing faster and faster, much too fast, caught in a painful coughing fit when a cracking sounded, a slight crack formed on the golden surface.

Nightmare slammed him violently against the bed, making him yelp with surprise, before his tentacle almost broke his wrist, forcing him to let go of the little battered soul. The Prince of Darkness threw himself upon the poor inverted heart, brought it back against him in panic, looking with horror at his brother screaming for death and continuing to struggle :

“DESTROY IT! DESTROY IT! - - Dr.... - LET ME DIE!”

Nightmare was seized with a cold sweat as he became livid. His own soul seemed to crack at the vision. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. Just stand there, helpless, watching his twin struggling like a demented being, a being who had lost all consciousness. And in his trembling palm he felt the little golden soul palpitating, struggling against negativity. The negativity that he thought he was dealing with but which was coming back even stronger to devour his brother.

The black apples were trying to corrupt the guardian of good emotions.

Nightmare hardly swallowed his saliva. Never before had he felt so feverish, so helpless in the face of a situation.

Tenderly he began to pamper the little soul, to make little circles with his thumb to caress it, to calm it, to limit and suck up some of this parasitic darkness. His own magic began to work, trying to attract negativity towards him. But ....it was far too strong, even for him.

Nightmare felt faint. He felt himself faltering as the hours rolled by with a slowness he could not have described. He felt himself faltering as, little by little, the cries subsided, the blows too. He did not allow himself a break until he was sure that Dream would no longer touch his life. That the moment he saw his sweet twin fall once again into the arms of Morpheus.

And Nightmare fell apart.

His body shattered against the icy ground.

The irregular breathing, much too fast for a living being, seemed to crush him from the inside. His magic crackled, crackled in an unpleasant way, as if to lecture him, to tell him that he was going too far, that he could not afford to do more.

He grunted, got up painfully, keeping the little golden soul in his hand.

He dragged himself to the door, went out into the corridor, slid against the wall and watched the darkness in silence. Then he looked at his brother's frail soul. He shuddered: the soul trembled, as if frightened. Scared ... ...of him. By his aura. By his presence. By his whole being.

The little golden soul needed him to counter the negativity, but was paradoxically terrified of him.

How ironic. But he couldn't afford to give it to Dream. After the way he had tried to take his own life...

He closed his eyes, glued his skull against the cool wall, sighed.

He had to trust that soul to someone who could protect it. Someone who would take care of it and be available to Nightmare at any time.

Oh... he already had the perfect candidate in mind. A candidate he trusted completely, even though Dream might not like it.

Yes ...

[ He was going to entrust the soul to Cross ]

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale -> Joku

Shattered Dream -> ErroredArtist’s

Cross -> Jakei

Error -> Lover The Piggies

Ink -> Comyet / Myebi

Dust -> Ask DustTale

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Color -> Superyoumma

Sugar Plum -> undertale Community (formerly NSFWShamecave ?)

#Hurt / Comfort #comfort a little dream #dream #dreamtale #nightmare #bad sanses #sugar plum #horror #dust #undertale #fanfiction

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lightsorigins · 4 years ago

Text

An inefficient world

03 Marckabeth 2010

3:42 pm, Mysticiën,

Lausya, Estery High School

Squeezed into an uncomfortable wooden chair, Sarasvatî had her arms folded. She had been staring at Madame Bigot, her biology teacher, for a few minutes. After having finished her tirade on a part of the course, this last one also observed Sara during a few seconds. The setting sun was illuminating her short jet hair and her strong gaze. She was imperturbable, yet everything about her indicated a latent irritation.

- Sarasvatî, do you have something to add?

She sighed at length before answering.

- You send me sorry, but you can't understand anything in a class where you get lost in so many details.

- These details are in Sara's program. If you work harder, you'll understand more.

At the agreement of his words, his gaze caught fire.

- That I work more? Me? In this room, I'm sure that no one understood a word of what you've just explained. You start to talk to us about how Anima and Menha work, and then you digress about your theories about the most powerful elements to bring down the Anima of our opponents, even though we are not even atmologists. It had nothing to do with the beginning of the session, and we haven't even been given a lecture on the primary elements yet!

- Sara...

- Don't expect me to believe that your assumptions about how things work are part of the program. Everyone here knows that you were not a high school teacher last year.

Madame Bigot was a red-headed meïlith with very light blue skin. Her big green eyes opened more and more to Sara's insolence. Discreet and kind, she had indeed shown for some sessions difficulties in giving her course in a sufficiently clear manner. Suddenly, she gave a big blow on her desk with the flat of her hand.

- Enough! You will bring me your notebook at the bell. I cannot accept such behavior in this room. Class representative or good student, I don't care!

- Instead, say that you are unable to accept reality and the criticisms that go against your ineffective methods," Sara replied before taking out her notebook and putting it at the end of the table.

- Pardon? exclaimed the professor.

- Nothing. Nothing that you wouldn't be able to hear.

She was dying to make him swallow her tongue with an atmos. Something that would have made her feel like making a fool of herself in front of all those students, but Laura Bigot would be in big trouble with the Grand Council of Atmology if she did so. However, she could already see herself joining hands, forming a skillful circle and whispering "Totopo lu hodo". A wooden cocoon would then have formed around Sarasvatî, who would have had no choice but to keep quiet. The pupils would then have said to each other "It is not necessary to joke with Mrs. Bigot! ». She would have earned the respect she had hoped for, continued her course and shared her intelligent theories on the functioning of the elements. Yet, instead...

- What's up? Are you going to take this notebook, yes or no? Instead of standing stupidly in front of me staring at me.

- Leave this room immediately Sara. You will have a report that you will remember for a long time. I would have liked to talk with you calmly, but it is obviously not possible.

- Anyway, it's going to ring. I would have liked to avoid this with you, but it seems to me that we have already talked about this problem. I won't be able to get a higher education with your damn theories. You simply have no right to do that. I'll talk to the director about it tomorrow. I'll see you soon.

Madame Bigot kept talking, but Sara had already moved on. Then the bell rang. It was an unpleasant, strident, repetitive sound that she had never enjoyed hearing. She grabbed her black leather jacket and put it over her long sky-blue dress. Grabbing her bag, she walked towards the exit, expressionless. Her step was heavy, fast and sure. She didn't greet anyone and stopped at the door. Once in the hallway, Sara stretched out her arm and let her diamond shûmberr skin handbag dangle nimbly from her fingertips. Staring down at the large alley, a long sigh of impatience escaped from between her lips. Suddenly, a young sygreliad with long blond hair rushed towards her and grabbed her bag.

- Sorry Sara, I hadn't finished writing everything down. Damn, your bag is heavy today, what did you put in it?

- It's the weight of Madame Bigot's bullshit, did you see how it weighs?

Annabelle smiled an embarrassed smile at him. Sara mimicked her expression by mimicking a despicable nonsense before continuing.

- Where's Marvin? Is he going to suck up to miss bullshit, or is he going to show up?

A large wazardin with a tousled coat ran out of the room, jostling Sara and Annabelle as they passed by. He stumbled a few seconds later, knocking over all of his comrade's things in the hallway. His ruby eyes were lost in Sara's, who stared at him without blinking.

- Ah shit, I thought you two had left," he said, laughing and nervously scratching his head.

- Marvin, I think I'm going to destroy you and your whole family," Sara said dryly.

- But you still intend to continue to help me with the merçembuth history presentation?

- Maybe, if you pick up everything you just spilled in less than thirty seconds. After that time, I might purposely insert errors in your homework and insult the teachers to get you kicked out of school.

Marvin swallowed his saliva and picked it all up, helped by Annabelle, who then picked up Sara's purse. They continued on their way out of the school. Snow was falling in large flakes on Lausya. It was a venckelbuth of the month of jalestar. This year's system was particularly cold. Every day, Sarasvatî, Annabelle and Marvin came home from school together because their homes were on the same road. Since middle school, the three teenagers had spent a lot of time together working on subjects in which they were struggling. Despite her bullying attitude, Sara knew she needed Annabelle's help in math. In return, she would help them out when they had arguments with other students, but also in other subjects where Annabelle and Marvin were not performing as well as she did.

- It took exactly twenty-four seconds to pick up everything," says Annabelle. That's it, you're saved for your homework Marvin!

- No, because you helped him so it doesn't count. So I'm not going to help you, too," Sara replied.

Annabelle's face decomposed. The young sygreliad gradually slowed down her walk, when Sara suddenly ripped her purse from her hands.

- Oh, but we can't even laugh anymore? It's not possible that! I'll help you anyway, I'm not a monster ! We've known each other for a long time, seriously. You're the only two people I accept to talk to, stop being afraid like that for a little bit, otherwise I won't hang out with you anymore.

- You'll have to excuse me Sara, but considering how mad you were at Madame Bigot earlier, it doesn't make you want to be more upset than that.

- You have nothing to do with it, I wouldn't be stupid enough to make you pay for miss bigou's incompetence. And what do you think of what I said to her? Did you understand what she was talking about?

- I don't know," Annabelle hesitated. I was interested in her ideas, but she did talk fast. Anyway, it wasn't going to last long. Do you really think that letting her talk a little bit about it from time to time is so bad?

- The problem is there, and you both need to think about it too. Like me, you would like to become good atmologists later on, wouldn't you? Imagine letting all of our teachers knock us out with their unproven hypotheses for five to ten minutes per hour-long class. Imagine, in total, how much time we will have wasted! That would mean that...

Marvin grabs her by the arm and pulls her onto the road. Sara was so carried away by his explanation that she hadn't seen that it was time to cross.

- That would mean a lot of time would be lost," he added calmly. I know, it's okay. But only Madame Bigot does that. She is new, you said it yourself, and despite that she is still a good teacher!

Sara stared at him before raising her eyes to the sky.

- How much did you get at his last checkup, Marvin? Honestly?

- I got 8 out of 20, and you know very well that I usually get half in organic classes!

- Marvin, you got 8 and I got 10, whereas in bio I normally go out with at least 16. She's not a good teacher. And I need a record that is relevant to my entry into the top universities in Mysticiën. I have tried to be patient, I have already talked to her about the situation but the very next day she does the same thing to me. I wish she had at least been honest and told me clearly that she would continue to do as she pleased.

- And if she had said that, are you sure you wouldn't have done something, like spilling all her stuff on the floor or yelling at her that she's just incompetent?

Sara slowed down her walk slightly and began to contemplate the sky for a few seconds as a sign of reflection. Suddenly, her gaze returned to Annabelle.

- Yeah, you have a point. Are we still on for math tomorrow at 4:00?

- Yes, I have notified my parents. I leave you here, see you tomorrow!

She walked away discreetly. Sara and Marvin watched the silhouette in the small white coat disappear in the distance towards the east of the city, rubbing her arms against herself to warm up before she could go home. Marvin patted Sara on the back before bursting into laughter.

- Hey, Marvin. Really, I'm going to end up killing you if you touch me a third time.

- You're not cool to make Annabelle carry your bag like that! Look how tiny and cute she is in her coat, she still looks like a little girl.

They went the other way before Sara continued.

- I took advantage of this before she became a school principal. She will eat us all if we don't dominate her first. Look at her, with her little feet and her nice attitudes. She's hiding an evil genius, that's for sure.

- Aren't you projecting your own attitudes onto her?

- No. And you want to carry my bag instead maybe?

- I can't promise I'll never drop it if you let me do it, but we can always try, I guess.

At the agreement of her words, she jumped up and down to try to slap him on the back of the head. Marvin ducked, and the two teenagers began to chase each other around town. The discussion turned into a brief snowball fight, won by Sarasvatî. In their bickering, they had reached Marvin's family home, which was still lying on the ground. Before he got up, Sara approached him with a huge amount of snow in her arms.

- What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Notorious Criminal? she asked comically.

Marvin concentrated with all his strength and a pink glow covered him. Sara frowned, wondering what idiocy he was up to. A few seconds later, he had taken on the appearance of Sara herself.

- Nothing. Nothing that you wouldn't be able to hear. "He replied seriously and solemnly, to imitate Sara's phrase when she had argued with their teacher.

When she understood, she covered her face with snow and started kicking him. Marvin laughed and laughed for a good five minutes before getting up and returning to his original shape.

- Wazardins, you are really dangerous people. I hope you don't take my appearance to do anything in front of others.

- Given the sanctions that await me if I do that, it's better that I avoid. Well, I'm out of here. Get home safe, and don't kill your brother if he's done something stupid, okay?

- Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.

Sara's home was a few dozen meters from here. All she had to do was cross a few roads, turn a couple of blocks, and she would find the park and then the building where she lived with her brother and mother. As she continued on her way silently, Sara got lost in her thoughts. She was still organizing her future, already imagining herself in a prestigious university, studying atmology as a Creator. The Creators combine the energies of Fire and Plants to fight and explore the world. What seduced Sara in this atmological discipline was the possibility of giving life to living creatures to fight at her side. Federating a team that she would have made entirely with her own hands... nothing could make her dream stronger.

Suddenly, as she was walking at a brisk pace, her foot stumbled on a thick piece of carjaline, in the middle of a park that she travels home through every day. Intrigued, she stopped to observe it more closely. The thick black debris reflected an intense glow. She recognized the fragments of black tourmaline, through which the last rays of the sun were seeping, then she sighed at length. It was a mechanical arm, and Sara knew exactly where it came from.

- I guess it's not ironic to have one intervention a year since high school by the Guild of Renovators, while the mayor himself leaves his pieces of inventions lying around anywhere...

She gave a huge kick to the robot arm. The noise resonated through the entire alloy. Sara looked a little further and recognized a hand also made of carjaline. Ecology was a cause that was close to her heart, also because she had become aware early on of the harmful effects that occur when no one pays attention to it. As she walked along the road again, she plunged into her memories. Many alloys and castings like these were not so easily recycled, and ended up impacting not only the fauna and flora, but also the people of Lausanne. As

far back as she can remember, Oscar Fanghël, the mayor of Lausya, has always considered the town as an experimental field of choice to test his prototypes. No one ever really knew what he was creating so many of them for. No one ever knew why he did not stop despite the numerous requests of the people of Lausya, and even worse: no one ever knew why the GCA (Great Council of Atmosphology), or even the GCM (Great Council of Martial Arts), had never acted in the face of this problem. Still, some members of the Guilde des Rénovateurs came to the aid of the lausois, but with great discretion.

Sara suspected well-disguised political shenanigans. She and other lausois knew that the ancestry of the Fanghël family was highly respected, had a long arm and could quickly come to grips with any opponent. This disturbing prospect probably kept many people silent. She swore to herself, however, that when she became powerful enough, Sara would make Oscar eat all his prototypes one after the other. She hoped that Annabelle, Marvin and her other friends would join her cause and that one day this city, and others suffering similar injustices, would become more effectively managed.

She finally reached the square in her neighbourhood: a poorly maintained place, decorated with a few benches and children's games, half of which had been seriously damaged. Buildings rose up around her, as if they were contemplating her with all the coldness of the system. A cold draught suddenly woke her up, awakening a wave of shivers that ran down her spine. She clenched her teeth, cursed and started looking for her keys in her bag before reaching the entrance hall. Then a strange smell tickled her nostrils. She knew that smell well.

- Nanthilia? Seriously, some guys start smoking this early in the day?

The fragrance was far too close for Sara to resist knowing who, in this neighborhood she knew on the tip of her fingers, was having fun rolling nanthilia joints. The local youth - and the youth from elsewhere - loved it for the fun and soothing psychic effects it provides. Sara then discreetly walked around the large building to the right, surreptitiously walked along the wall and bent down to see if there were people further away. She heard laughter, including one she could recognize from among a thousand. A group of four young boys sat on a bench at the back of the building and laughed loudly. She approached them discreetly. From then on, only a few centimeters separated her from the boys.

One of them turned around and fell face to face with Sara. With a hiccup of surprise, he jumped up and tripped his butt first on the field of grass. She still had her arms folded and that imperturbable expression that described her so well.

- Oh damn it! cried the young man who had just fallen. Why didn't you say you were there, Sara?

She didn't answer, then looked at another boy in the group. He was shorter than the others, had a black hair in a battle, big black eyes, and wore a red flannel shirt with white checks. He was the one with the nanthilia joint in his hands. His eyes were red with fatigue. When Sara saw the joint between her fingers, she raised her eyebrows without taking her eyes off it. The young man did not blink.

- Name of a kannidus, Sara. Do you want to become a cop for the GCs now or what's it like? You can shove your witchy eyes up your ass.

- Are you kidding me, Kieran? she replied.

Sara moved towards him to rip the joint out of his hands, but in response, he backed away. She grabbed him by the arm and eventually ripped it off, threw it to the ground, and crushed it vigorously with the tip of her foot.

- We had an agreement between the two of us. You had to behave better and make an effort because I warned you about the consequences of this thing, and I find you three days later smoking with three idiots from the neighbourhood?

- Oh eh, that's good," replied one of them, ready to defend his cause.

Feeling the anger rising, Sara turned to them as if to forbid them to dare to speak again. The boys preferred to stay there and walk away, stunned by the effects of the nanthilia. Sara began to feel tired and disappointed. She didn't take her eyes off Kieran, who, on the other hand, was very angry.

- You're really annoying when you get into it. I've already told you that this situation is my business! Why don't you want to get off my back, don't you have classes to study or whatever else you need to do in your corner with your nerdy friends?

For the umpteenth time today, she sighed.

- We're talking about your future Kieran, I'm not doing this just to annoy you. I'm your sister, it's my job to warn you about the effects of these things! Do you realize that mercenaries and explorers use this to cause psychic disturbances on their opponents? Do you think it's normal to blow your head off with it?

- Yes! because it's my skull and I do what I want with it! I don't want to do mega-studies like you, me.

She remained silent as Kieran assailed her with all her favorite phrases to express her desire for independence and freedom. Her tirades continued for minutes on end. In the hall, in the elevator, and until they entered the apartment. He slammed the front door with all his might.

- If you're going to sneak up on me like that all the time, I'm just going to end up breaking into someone else's house without telling anyone! I'm tired of having you on my ass, you understand that? You're pissing me off!

- You're not doing what you want here Kieran," she shouted back. You're fourteen years old, you're a minor, you don't have to make these kinds of decisions, let alone talk to me like that! And if you want to run away, I'm going to find you whether you like it or not!

This time it was the door to Kieran's room that slammed. A few seconds later, he launched a hard rock song at maximum volume. Sara was about to tell him to turn it down, but when she put her hand on the latch, she heard him turn the key in the lock. She put her hands to her hair and growled in irritation before going into the kitchen. The room was dirty, dimly lit with a light that Sara often described as "too white. Tired from work, her mother Naska didn't always have time to clean the apartment. Kieran would never get down to it, and Sara was far too busy working on her lessons.Putting her purse on the floor, she abruptly pulled out one of the chairs and dropped herself on it, taking her head in her hands and closing her eyes. A warm smell of boiled yone permeated the room. Naska, was cooking. Sara hated boiled food. It was the worst day she could have hoped for.

- Then my dear, why did your brother go to his room? Why are you still arguing? she asked softly.

- I've already come out of a class given by a poor incompetent and when I get downstairs, I find him smoking nanthilia with a bunch of jerks from the neighborhood. I had spoken with him not even a week ago, he told me that he understood and that he was going to make an effort, and look what he's doing!

- Don't be hard on your brother, honey.

- But how can I not be hard on him when he literally doesn't care about the world?

- You know that the situation is not easy for Kié. He needs time to act, and he's a young boy. Give him some time.

- If I'm the only one trying to be a little firmer with him, frankly, it's not going to help him. At some point you're going to have to do something serious. Let me remind you that I'm the one who pays for the private lessons that Amaëlle gives him! I work two days a week to help with homework for those in difficulty, but also to pay for her lessons! It's not by getting high on nanthilia every night that he's likely to learn things and use his memory well. I don't want to do that for nothing, it also impacts me, you understand?

Naska marked a time of silence. Busy with her dish, she grabbed a bowl of spices and poured a tiny part of it into the broth she was preparing. She then drained the fragrant rice before continuing.

- You should relax a little bit Sara. I know you do a lot, but you could ask Amaelle for an advance for the classes.

- No. I'm not going to do that. I just want Kieran to get to work.

- Be patient, there is no reason to get into all these states. You must not push him to leave the house. I will be sad if something happens to him.

- I am already patient. All the time. And so am I...

Sara felt that no matter what she might say, her mother would remain relaxed, or at least pretend to. Between the loud music played in her brother's room, the smell of boiled yone that was going to make her nauseous, and that incarnation with Madame Bigot earlier, she began to think that spending the evening here would be a bad idea. So she went to her room and made a call to Marvin.

- Hello Mrs. Solenelle?" he answered.

- Marvin, can I come to your house tonight?

- It depends on what for. Like, if it's for the presentation, I'm okay with it.

- Do you have fresh choums? Do you still have your two controllers to play with? Do you have an interesting topic of discussion in mind?

- Wow, we have a real program here, don't we?

- Yes or no?

- Yeah, yeah, it's quiet. Are you sure you're okay, Sara?

- I'll be there in five minutes. I'm sleeping at your place.

- Well, okay. I'll see you in a minute.

0 notes

floofsta-x · 7 years ago

Text

Blood On My Hands (For You) [E]

genre;; dark / realistic fantasy, 1920s mob / mafia!AU, serial killer!AU

pairing;; Mainly Chae Hyungwon x Lee Minhyuk [Hyunghyuk]. Also, Shin Hoseok x Son Hyunwoo [Showho] and some Lee Jooheon x Im Changkyun [Married!Jookyun].

plot ;;

After Minhyuk’s first mob kill, his initiation as you will, he discovers that he can see the grim reaper: Hyungwon, the one who brings finality to the souls of hell-bound dead. Once the initial encounter is past, Minhyuk can’t get him off his mind. Quickly, his desire grows to see, touch--and maybe kiss--the tall, handsome, dark-haired man. So, he turns to some very questionable methods.

Based on this Reddit prompt.

⚠️ warnings;; violence, blood/gore, criminal activity, murder….angst…um maybe a bit of fluff? Smut, smut to an end (unwillingly fucking a man to kill him)...Good God just….hold on

words;; 14,914 (15k)

author’s notes;; so this fic was written for the 2017 MX Halloween fic exchange on AO3! It was based off a prompt given to me by @dirtyretrowrites, and I had a really really fun time with it. I don’t get a chance to write anything quite this dark very often. That said, this fic you might notice is not as refined as my others. Welcome to Bry writes raw! I thought that by only doing minimal editing and not my usual, extreme regimen, I could capture a little more of the dark, gritty theme. Anyways! Enjoy!

am I so primal? am I so cruel? I'd do anything to be closer to you. is it so carnal? is it a sin? I'll go to hell for my hands on your skin. vicious contention, I drive myself mad, all for a lover that I'll never have. is it so wicked to want you this much? desperate and dangerous, just for your touch? I'll be a slave, I'll be a killer, do anything that I have to do. I'll be a saint, I'll be a sinner, I put this blood on my hands for you. ⟶ Blood on my Hands - HIDDN and LEVV.

Lee Minhyuk ran for his life. Adrenaline coursed through him, and all he could hear was the pounding of his feet and his heartbeat in his ears.

The night was warm and calm, a direct contrast to the feelings tearing apart the tall, platinum blond’s heart at that moment. He and his three buddies had only made it out of the alley, but already he was gasping for air. There, they stopped, giving Minhyuk a chance to run a hand through his hair and sink down against a brick wall. Somehow, his racing mind had three thoughts going simultaneously: fuckfuckfuck, what the hell just happened, and I didn’t sign up for this bullshit. His legs wanted to take him far, far away from anyplace, and yet he felt frozen to the spot. Paralyzed, even.

“Good work, men,” a low voice, familiar though now suddenly unrecognizable, cut through the air. “I had a feeling that the deal was dirty, so I’m glad we came prepared.” All eyes turned to the tall, slender young man in a pinstripe vest. “Minhyuk, you work very nicely. You’ve more than passed your initiation ton–Minhyuk?”

Minhyuk hadn’t realized that his hands were coated thickly with blood until he had felt something wet drip down his head. Now he pressed a hand to the alleyway wall, and it left a print. Standing there, trembling, tracing the impressions of long, slender red fingers with his gaze, he was re-living things he had tried so desperately to forget, though it had only been minutes, well, actually, hell—seconds ago.

That man–I stabbed him–

The world fell away as his senses were flooded with memories: taking out the plain black handkerchief (so he wouldn't leave prints), and the feeling of a dagger thrust into his hand. The victim hadn’t even seen a moment of what was coming. Minhyuk stole up behind him and encountered tensile resistance when he plunged the knife deep into the other man's neck. As he had twisted the blade cruelly, there was a croak of pain, perhaps one last weak cry for forgiveness. A red, red stain had washed from the center of the wound, running in wet streaks down the back of the poor bloke's dark suit. Then Minhyuk had finished the job with a thrust through the heart. After that, all he needed to do was push, and a bloody corpse lay on the ground, eyes open, never to move again.

It was not something he had wanted to do, but when he had been told—he went. After all, if he refused, they could kill him. Such was the mob. Dirty, dastardly, hiding in the deepest shadows.

After a moment of dead, eerie silence, the leader hissed to his comrades. “We don’t have time. Leave him here, and he’ll come around. We’ll see him back at the house, soon.”

Minhyuk wasn’t sure how long he sat there, unmoving. It might have only been seconds; but it seemed like hours, days, an eternity perhaps. Some small part of him realized how alone he was after the three other pairs of feet scurried away. Yet, he couldn’t find the will or way to follow. His brain was still whirling at what seemed like hundreds of miles an hour, trying to come to terms with himself, stuck in a cycle of never ending confusion and revulsion.

When he finally snapped back fully to the present, he found himself terrified and shivering, even through the wool of his suit. It crossed his mind that perhaps the temperature had dropped to below freezing; but almost a rebuke came back. No, that wasn’t possible. There was a telling absence of steamed, frozen breath. He was just going into shock, that was all. Something deep inside him screamed that he had to get up and move before he froze to death here. So, he did. Minhyuk pushed himself to his feet and stumbled in a direction—which happened to be the way he had come, back towards the grisly scene of his first murder. His sluggish feet carried him to the alleyway, though every ounce of him did not like the idea. His eyes widened, and he immediately realized that saliva was flooding his mouth. As if his body was in rebellion, he doubled over and lost the contents of his stomach to the ground.

Goddamn. Fuck. Fuck this. All he could do was sit there for a moment, choking and gasping, until he finally straightened up and headed forward once again, making sure to avoid the pool of vomit. Somehow, he was still convinced that going to see the dead man might perhaps be smart, after all. Peace could wait for him there, and he'd pour out his heart, maybe confess his guilt—to a policeman or two eventually, he didn’t really care. He knew he had fallen too deep. The fate was inevitable, anyway. Minhyuk had a small circle of “friends” and some meager possessions in his name, but really nothing to lose. Jail, and a life sentence for first degree manslaughter, might be a better experience than what it was made out to be.

The night was still deathly silent, like all life and sound had moved away at the circumstances that had taken place not too long ago. Minhyuk had his eyes firmly fixed on the gap that led back into the alleyway as he slowly but surely made his way there.

No police sirens were in earshot, and the crime scene was still relatively fresh, so he was stunned to find someone hovering over the dead body. The blond pulled himself back into the shadows once he saw, and covered a mouth to stifle a gasp and heavy breaths. It certainly wasn't anyone he recognized right away, from his days mingling with mobmen, anyway. The stranger was tall, having a couple inches on Minhyuk, and skinnier too, wearing a long, loose trench coat and fedora hat. One could barely see a peek of fine dark hair underneath. He was illuminated in the light of the full moon shining overhead. For a moment Minhyuk stood, unmoving, as this almost unearthly figure knelt to brush his hand over the corpse’s pale, cold brow.

Then, a distinct baritone voice hit the blond’s ear. He almost immediately knew it was the stranger's, though he couldn’t see lips moving. It was lilting, perhaps a little bit smug, and as mysterious as the man himself.

“I know you’re there.”

Minhyuk had to bite back a gasp when the tall man turned to face him. He was...handsome. True, dark circles curved under his eyes, and something seemed off. (The reason wasn't quite apparent straight away.) But it was immediately of interest that his lips were pristine and plump. They might be cracked a little bit perhaps, but still were so, so enticing. His facial structure, as well, was perfect. Not to mention his figure...he could be a model for some high end clothing catalog.

The mob man had no choice but to speak now, after so obviously having been caught. Nervously, he swallowed and cleared his throat. Despite his best effort, his voice came out weaker than he wanted. "S—so what if I am? What does it mean to you?"

"Murderers...don't usually come back." An intense, scrutinizing gaze went right through Minhyuk and into his deepest fears. Damn, there was also, unexplainably, a sudden desire blooming within him at that very moment, the more his gaze shifted across the stranger's face and form.

The platinum blond couldn't bring himself to speak for a while. Eventually, though, he managed to stutter at least something. "I—don't—u...understand?"

"Why would you want to see the aftermath of your own crime?"

"Wait--you think I killed him? You have to be joking. I'm an innocent passerby."

The stranger guffawed. "Look, don't even try lying to me. There's blood on your hands. On your face. Down the front of your suit. Even in your hair, for Chrissake." He turned away, staring into the dark at the other end of the alley. Minhyuk wasn't completely sure how the next whisper reached his ears and didn't die, even in the stale air.

"Besides, your image is imprinted on his soul."

Nothing the tall man said or did was threatening, but somehow Minhyuk on high alert. The nudge in his brain that this could be dangerous seemed to finally be getting through to him. Instinctively, he stepped forward, acting on fight impulse. It wasn't really out of boldness, but a sudden and intense fear. He thrust his hand deep into a coat pocket, ready to pull the silver revolver that was there. "Wh—who are you, anyway?"

Seemingly undisturbed by Minhyuk's sudden, intense body language, the tall boy held his ground. "Of course. Naturally, you want to know." Strained, he sighed and continued, with much difficulty, "Once...a long time ago, I was called Chae Hyungwon."

Even as it hit his ear for the first time, a burning need overtook Minhyuk to never forget the name. Somehow, it described its bearer so well—whispering of prosperity and delicacy, high class and bearing. He could be a prince. Still, he hadn't asked the most important thing. "And what are you doing here?"

"Well...there is a title, a position, I call my own, but I don't believe humans quite know it the same way we do."

"Humans? Are you saying you're not?"

"I was, once. But now...I am simply a messenger to this corrupt and evil-filled Earth. I clean up messes and that is all."

"Yeah...no. You're not making sense. Are you here to drag the body away?"

Hyungwon chuckled lowly, mirthlessly. "I don't deal with physical evidence. I'm here for this mess." When he snapped his fingers, next to him rose a smoky, grayish-pale mass, which churned and swirled to take the shape of a man, screaming eternally, mouth open in an unnatural, unhinged manner. Its features became sharply defined, even in the low light. Quickly, it became obvious that it was an exact match to the figure laying on the ground.

Minhyuk suddenly wanted to throw up again. "That's—"

"His spirit." Somehow, that lilting baritone still cut through the blond's incredulous muttering. "I am what you mortals call, perhaps...a grim reaper."

"But you are not grotesque in the least." Admittedly, at the words, the image of a hooded, robed figure with a scythe and skeleton face had come to Minhyuk's mind. "Perhaps a little pale and heavy-eyed, but..." Honestly, you're one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

"And that is where the human definition of a grim reaper has gone astray. We are not ghastly. We walk among you." Almost before he had registered it in his mind, Minhyuk found himself face to face with the taller man. "Our appointed purpose is to guide the souls of the unsaved dead to their eternal rest in hell."

The blond's jaw was stuck open, unable to utter even a sound, in a moment all thoughts replaced by those of Chae Hyungwon. He was even more ethereal up close. All his muscles urged him to just reach forward, touch him, every inch of him, indulge a sudden and insatiable desire and curiosity.

But the moment was shattered by a woman's scream. She and her boyfriend turned into the alley, probably to make out, and froze at the sight of the dead, bloody body. In moments, they noticed someone else was still there as well. Then the couple was back out again, pounding feet thrumming on the sidewalk outside.

"I better go," Hyungwon sighed. "I have lingered too long as it is."

Minhyuk's eyes shot open, and he reached forward to grab the almost too-warm forearm of the taller boy. "Wai—wait, will I see you again?"

It was the other's turn to seem almost surprised. For a long moment he pondered what to say, before admitting, "Perhaps. Wherever I am needed, I will be." Then dark, stately Hyungwon was disappearing, fading into the shadows, gone without a trace.

"Minhyuk, come get ready for supper."

The calling voice jerked Minhyuk out of his reverie on the couch, and stirring slightly, the blond sighed. "Alright, give me a moment, Kihyun-ah."

A couple of weeks had passed since the whole alley incident, and as expected, nothing had come from the sudden and terrible death of the mob man, at least from the police. No investigation was made, no charges pressed. Not even a blurb about it was put in the daily newspaper. Minhyuk could feel the effects in his own life, though. Some of the higher-ups, and also those in his level of prestige, were more willing to look him in the eye or acknowledge his presence. He was finally considered a mob brother, after close to seven years of slaving for it, day in and day out. He hadn't chosen the life, but that was all he had now. Ever since he had been pulled in by him. Minhyuk cringed and growled under his breath at the thought of the man who insisted on being called sir, and...was practically the reason for everything that had gone wrong in his life. Even, perhaps, his very genesis.

But that was an issue for later. Minhyuk, having taken a moment like he said, pushed himself up and wandered into the kitchen, where five place settings were laid out his friend's kitchen table. Four pottery plates, and one paper. The very top of a booster seat poked up over the edge of the tablecloth. Yoo Kihyun was setting out everything they'd need for Bulgogi, a slight smile playing across his normally-serious expression. "Make yourself comfy. We'll dig in as soon as Jooheon, Changkyun, and Yujin are here."

Minhyuk did as he was told, pulling out the chair farthest from the booster, not the one with Kihyun's jacket draped over the back, either. In the midst of his friend's trips back and forth to the table, the blond felt himself start to drift off into his own thoughts again. Chae Hyungwon... As much as he had tried to forget the grim reaper entirely, Minhyuk had been unable to. The sight of his strained but handsome face hovering near his own was the ever persistent ghost of a memory. He desperately wanted to touch him, and probe deeper into the mystery of his tall, slender presence. The problem was though, how he was going to be there when Hyungwon appeared? He could go to nursing homes and things, places where fresh death was thick. But all at once it came back that the reaper had said it himself: "Our appointed purpose is to guide the souls of the unsaved dead to their eternal rest in hell." So simply old and dying dead would not work. The sudden violent death of criminals was needed instead. An idea started to tickle at the back of his mind.

At that moment, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Both boys didn't flinch; they both immediately knew who it was. Two low and laughing voices were the confirmation. Then, right on cue, a small face peeked around the corner. Minhyuk couldn't help but smile brightly, and a warm feeling filled his heart. "Oh!" He exclaimed, cutely. "Is that a Yujinnie I see?"

"You're right! It's me!" A five year old girl giggled and hopped into the doorway. The blond man held his arms out, and she ran right to them. "Uncle Min'ook!"

"Yujinnie!" The girl planted a gentle kiss on Minhyuk's cheek, and he smiled brightly, hugging her close, warmly, tightly.

Moments behind her were a familiar pair of dimpled faces: Jooheon and Changkyun. Their fingers came untwined as they stepped in to greet their friends. "Now, now, Yujin, Don't crush Minhyuk in that strong grip of yours," Changkyun teased.

"I won't, Koon-ah!" She said, and promptly turned to crawl up Minhyuk's chest, making grabby hands. This time it was toward the other, short, black-haired man, standing nearby with a towel over his shoulder. "Uncle Ki'oon!"

"Hello, cutie." Gingerly, Kihyun took the girl from Minhyuk, setting her on his aproned hip and booping her nose. "How are you and your dads?"

"P'etty good."

By then, everyone had their affectionate gazes fixed on Yujin's glowing face. Her cuteness was irresistible, even to people as hardened and tested as all four of the older men were. They all had seen and done their fair share of shit for the mob. Jooheon, for instance, was a sniper, and had taken out some pretty prominent city figures. Changkyun had been a male prostitute before dedicating himself solely to his boyfriend and now husband. Kihyun could cheat at poker like it was nothing, and had a golden ear and tongue for intel. Not to mention seduction skills worth boasting about. And Minhyuk...well, you, reader, already know about Minhyuk. But, seeing this now, nobody could believe that. The four of them were together for one purpose and one purpose only: to celebrate the smiling and giggling bundle of cute joy that was the two youngest boys's adopted daughter.

In minutes, all five of them were seated, and Kihyun was cooking the first round of meat. Of course, the first few pieces went to the little girl, who widened her eyes at the taste. "This is really good! T'ank you, Ki-yoon-ah!"

"Of course, Yujin." Kihyun seemed to be glowing at the little girl's praise. She had them all wrapped around her little finger. When Jooheon and Changkyun had decided to adopt a child a couple of months ago, none of them had been prepared in the slightest for the wild ride that awaited them. First, they went to a few orphanages, looking at potential matches, but it wasn't until the last one that things fell into place. Yujin had taken to them like a duckling to water. They had fallen head over heels and though the process to bring her home was long and complicated, they had persevered. Now she was an irreplaceable part of the family.

In no time, it seemed, The meat, rice, seaweed and water was gone, and everyone—most particularly the older boys—were leaning back in contentment. Kihyun looked ready to fall asleep, as well as Jooheon. However Changkyun still seemed pretty lively, and so did Yujin. "Play with me, Koon-ah." She begged, reaching her arms out for her younger dad.

"Alright, missy." The soft maknae scooped his daughter up into his arms.

"Uncle Min'ook-ah!" Little arms reached for Minhyuk as well. "You too!"

"After I do the dishes and help clean up. Ok?" Giving her a promise and a kiss on the forehead seemed to satisfy her. Nodding, she pushed on Changkyun's shoulder, nudging him to the living room. He only stopped for a moment, to lean over and peck Jooheon on the lips, before they were wandering out.

Minhyuk wasted no time in starting to collect dirty plates and taking them to the sink. It was a potentially long job, but he didn't mind. It was the least he could do to repay his close friend for the food. Also, it gave him a few more seconds of silence. Eventually, Kihyun and Jooheon moved away from the kitchen, allowing the blond some head space. He couldn't get the events of his initiation and the following strange encounter out of his head. He was almost totally lost in them—it was a miracle he didn't drop anything or break dishes.

Some time passed, exactly how much, Minhyuk wasn't sure, before little, running footsteps came into earshot again. Sure enough, Yujin came barreling around the corner. The blond couldn't help but grin as he dried a plate and set it with the others, to be put away later. "What are you doing, squirt?"

"Shh. I'm hiding from Koon-ah!" With that, she gave a giggle and dived forward, hands scrabbling for Minhyuk's calves. The feeling of small, chubby fingers on his ankles made the blond's heart warm and his smile grow. Maybe one day, he'd be able to have a child of his own, a small person who'd he selflessly give his love to—

In my dreams.

"Uncle Min'ook?" The five-year-old's voice startled him out of his thoughts. Minhyuk glanced down to see her curious eyes on him again. "W'acha t'inkin 'bout?"

"Oh, nothing, Yujinnie," he smiled encouragingly, the best he could. "Just grown-up stuff."

She didn't quite seem to be convinced, though; and a brief second later, she asked a question that flipped Minhyuk's world upside-down.

"You've seen him, haven't you?"

She could have been talking about anyone, but for some reason, Minhyuk's heart nearly stopped at the question. "Seen who?" he replied, continuing to force a pleasant expression.

"The tall, nice man...in dark clothes. He has big lips, too." She traced her mouth, as if her own was thick and luscious as well. For talking about someone who dealt with death and damned souls, her voice wasn't any less cheery than before.

Some bile rose to the blond's mouth, and he forced it back down, making his throat burn. He managed to choke a question out, somehow. "Is he really handsome?"

"Yeah-yeah." Yejin nodded vigorously. "You did meet him!"

"Yes." His answer came carefully. "Have you?"

A little 'mhm' sound was her confirmation. Now Minhyuk couldn't wet his lips, and he was too parched to speak. Yujin's voice came out in almost a whisper, and she shuffled her feet. "I was still at the or'panage, and one night I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get up. He was in the hall. I was scared at first, but he was so nice. He smiled at me and gave me a pat on the head."

"Why was he there in the dark?"

Yujin furrowed her eyebrows, mood shifting. "He said that after he was gone, I wouldn't have to cry anymore. And Mrs. Matron died."

Was this really real? Was anything anymore? A plate came close to slipping out of his hand, and he couldn't help but gape. Faintly, in the back of his head, Minhyuk recalled that Mrs. Matron was the mean, cruel former orphanage headmistress, who had treated the children like slaves. Because of the mob, he knew a lot of evil, dastardly people, but he couldn't imagine one who looked down on and wanted to exploit even the smallest orphan child. Some of the things that Yujin said sometimes about her put his stomach in knots and made his blood run ice cold.

In a moment, however, his mind returned to the tall grim reaper. Hyungwon had...shown her affection? He hadn't as much as let the corners of his mouth tip up in Minhyuk's presence, but somehow the idea of him smiling to a little girl wasn't alien at all.

But then, suddenly:

"You like him, don't you, Uncle Min'ook?"

The blond's mind went blank, and he scrambled in his head for an answer. Thankfully, he didn't have to, as just then, Changkyun peeked around the corner and locked eyes with his daughter. "Yujinnie!" He chortled. "There you are! You're a good hider. Or, maybe Minhyuk hyung is just a good hiding place, huh?"

There was a bright giggle, and the girl ran to the younger man's arms. "He is a good hiding spot." After another moment, she piped up again. "I was telling him about the tall man!" Something went through Changkyun's eyes, maybe alarm. "You know him, too, don't you, Uncle Min'ook?" She was so eager; Minhyuk almost felt bad for choosing to ignore the question and not say anything. Dropping his eyes to the dishes, he instead turned to put a few away.

The younger boy hummed disapprovingly. "Maybe we should get you home and to bed. The last time you talked about the tall man, you were so sleepy you couldn't keep your eyes open."

"But it's true!" A gigantic pout appeared, and a few tears as well. "He said his name was 'ywon—'yugwon—or something."

"Hyungwon," Minhyuk murmured under his breath, and Yujin snapped her head around.

"See, Koon-ah!"

"Let's talk about this with Jooheon later, ok?" Though Changkyun's voice was calm and even, relaxed and unstrained, Minhyuk could feel his intense gaze. It drilled into the older's head like a factory machine. It was all too clear that he didn't believe Yujin's story, and was trying to chastise his hyung for entertaining it. Who in their right mind would do the opposite? It was ridiculous—to someone who had never met a grim reaper before.

When Minhyuk returned to his small apartment that night, jumbled thoughts swirled in his head. He got all ready for bed and climbed under the covers, but ended up laying awake. He thought that he had been in a confused state when he left, but that was nothing compared to now. There were all these questions prodding him, answers he needed to obtain. What of Chae Hyungwon? Where was he now? As much as Minhyuk knew it was wrong, and he was being irrational, he hoped that the tall boy was thinking of him at least a little. What was this new feeling, like butterflies blooming at the thought of the tall grim reaper's presence? Puppy love? Lust?

For all the mess in his head, his heart beat to one thing and one thing alone: No matter what it takes, I will find him again.

The blond tossed and turned for a long time before finally, around 2am, he finally paid attention to the tingling in his restless legs and got up, flipping on the lamp at his bedside. Without really knowing why, but with a purpose lingering in a dark corner of his mind, he approached his closet. There was a safe stashed away in the back corner, and he pulled it open. The object he needed was right at hand, wrapped in a particular, black, bloody handkerchief—the knife. He had pulled it from that first victim, perhaps as a token of sorts. But now, the more Minhyuk stared at the dried blood on the blade and traced its sleek, deadly shape with his gaze, he grew to see it not as a weapon and instrument of death. It was a chance. A chance to make all his dreams come true. Something inside him was screaming that this was what he needed to finally find peace, to set the wrongs in his life right. To rid the world of some little evil.

The next day, Minhyuk walked into the hideout with the dagger strapped to his leg, its sharp point grazing his thigh. Jabs of pain, and a small trail of blood that soaked into his sock reminded him what he was supposed to do. He was determined: in order to see the love of his life again, and settle a personal vendetta, he'd become a living nightmare to those who'd wronged him and his family. Starting, of course, with the man formerly known as his father's best friend. Ah, what a lying title. Bang Jeongmin was in all reality, a traitor, one of many. Minhyuk knew who all of them were by now—there was Jeongmin-hyung and seven others, plus him.

See, Minhyuk's parents had been part of the mafia, too. Not just his father, but his mother as well. Mr. Lee, senior was a bootlegger, making dangerous and highly illegal runs between alcohol-soaked territories and ones under prohibition; he was well-known to all the speakeasy owners in the area. Mrs. Lee, on the other hand, sometimes masqueraded as a prostitute and could use her way with men to get whatever intel she needed from the police. Quite a few attempts at justice were foiled thanks to her talents. They weren't bad people, just desperate ones who found themselves tangled up in shady activities. Each simply had a will to survive and their own, fallible human heart. This was clear in what happened with Mrs. Lee once her future husband started to woo her. She knew right away that he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and resigned from her life of deceit. Faithfully, she waited for him every morning, afternoon, and night. Though she still helped where she could, she didn't do many of the things she had before, no matter the offer or opportunity. All she wanted was happiness with her husband.

Mr. Lee never failed to come home to her, either. By all outward appearances, their life was peaceful and content. They were very much in love, and got married fairly soon after their romance began. It seemed that nothing could keep them apart.

Oh, people tried. First there was the fact that after getting married, some men seemingly took it upon themselves to hurt Mr. Lee. He started to appear more frequently with fresh, bleeding cuts and bruised eyes. It eventually became so bad that his face was constantly marred, almost unrecognizable. Despite Mr. Lee's tolerance and patience through this abuse, it didn't stop, like he hoped. He was still working so hard to make sure the mob's every need was met, and yet they still often beat him. He began to suspect some bigger player was involved in all this. In particular, there was one big man who looked at the bootlegger with an especially malicious eye. His name was Mr. Cha Jaemin, and he was a new player, a star in the underground. It seemed that every single woman in sight pined after him and his empire. Yet, he was infamous and wanted because he was ruthless, and his venomous smile was enough to instill fear in the heart of everyone. It wasn't like Mr. Lee could just pin everything on the rising kingpin, though. A motive, if any, was unclear, and he couldn't directly prove it was him ordering the beatdowns.

Mrs. Lee, meanwhile, was suffering greatly as well. Her husband was now a far cry from the man she loved and had married. At least his personality and heart hadn't changed. To her, he was also still so handsome. Still, she worried, though for a long time she was too scared to ask about details, keeping her questions far away from everyone, even the mob contacts she still had. The frequency with which she pulled him to the bathroom and applied ointment and bandages was getting to her, though, and it finally broke her spirit completely. There was a night when, crying and sobbing into his shoulder, she implored him to tell her why he was always so beaten up. If there was anything she could do to make it stop, she wouldn't waste a second.

That was just the thing, though. He was afraid that if he spilled everything, there would be terrible consequences. "The higher ups have decided they like to pick on me, for some reason," he said softly, caressing her cheek. "Don't worry about me. It'll stop once they realize that they owe me nearly everything they have." Then he leaned down for a passionate kiss. He could barely keep from hissing in pain when his lip tore open again, but all he wanted was to soothe her with gentle touches, and satisfy her need for more when it burned hot in her breast and core.

One night, she waited and waited up for him. 1am passed, but he still wasn't there. It was the first time in years he hadn't returned before midnight, and though Mrs. Lee tried her hardest not to worry, she couldn't sleep. Laying in bed, tossing and turning, she prayed to a higher power that he wasn't dead or dying, just truly held up at work. Even, arrested and in jail. Anything was better than not being able to see her husband again.

The door creaked open. She was facing away, and for a moment she held her breath and let a smile play on her lips, expecting to hear the telltale signs of Mr. Lee getting ready for bed before a warm body slid in next to her.

But instead, rough hands grabbed her shoulder, pulling her over onto her back. The faces of several men glowered over her, and a cool cloth was pressed to her mouth and nose. She tried to struggle and fight, but suddenly she was being pulled down, down into blackness...

This was what she had told thirteen-year-old Minhyuk in her last days. Despite his young age, he could remember everything about how she looked lying in a hospital bed, an unknown affliction tearing the rest of her life from her. Minhyukie had been crying and unable to say a word, listening in horror as she had proceeded to relate how she had woken up the next morning to a red-faced, incredulous, and livid Mr. Lee stroking her forehead. A broken man, he could barely keep from crying. Pain washed through her every nerve, especially between her legs. Of course, it didn't take her long to realize that she had been drugged and gang-raped.

It wasn't until the traumatized boy was older that he learned exactly what that implied, and, more importantly, why it had happened. See, Mr. Cha had been in love with Mrs. Lee, and only wanting her for himself, became irrationally angry when she had fallen for her husband. Selfish and full of desire, he indeed had been the one giving orders to treat Mr. Lee dirty. When that didn't work, next he organized a group of his closest men around him, with the sole intent to force their way into the Lee household and violate the young wife. If that horror story wasn't enough, Mrs. Lee became pregnant and birthed a baby boy nine months after the incident: Minhyuk.

Now, twenty-three years later, the mogul was the one and only object of Minhyuk's blinding hate, but also his boss and one of the richest and most powerful men in the city. The blond felt so ashamed that he had looked up to him as a mentor, before this dark twist had come to light. Minhyuk could potentially be—and probably was—Mr. Cha's son, and that made the young man sick. Hell, he had nearly lost his lunch and dinner all over the ornate office rug when at the age of sixteen, he had pulled Minhyuk into his office and used a claim on Minhyuk's true paternity to rein the boy in. Afterwards, there were plenty of situations where it was brought it up again. It was an effort to keep Minhyuk loyal and compliant, and so far, it had worked.

After the deathbed confession, Minhyuk had slowly come to realize that his parents were completely aware of this, but had treated him like their child anyway. That touched the young man's tender heart (or whatever was left of it, anyway) and made tears flow on so many occasions. To Minhyuk, Mr. Lee would always be his true father, not that ugly man who was loving, but in all the wrong, twisted ways.

Somehow, Minhyuk managed to convince himself that this was the true reason he was going to start his crusade to "murder in the name of good". It wasn't just because he longed for another encounter with Hyungwon. Though yes—he wanted to see the man again. Some considered him to be death itself, but it brought the blond strange new life.

It was all too easy to lure Jeongmin into a trap. All it took was the tantalizing promise of premium Cuban cigars. Minhyuk hated them, but he knew that others, including his target, would do anything for them. "Lemme see the goods first," The older mob man demanded when they met in the sandy, grimy alley, the same one the first murder had gone down in. Minhyuk grinned and casually held out the open box filled with the tidy rolls of tobacco, a treasure he had worked hard for.

Jeongmin reached for them, but the younger pulled away at the last moment, tsking. "Where's my payment?"

As the traitor grumbled and reached into his pocket for his wallet, that was when the blond made his move. In nearly the exact same place he made his very first stab wound, the bloody knife plunged deep into Jeongmin's skin. Surprised at such a powerful and sudden move from the normally-meek and timid Minhyuk, his eyes went wide, and he croaked the beginning of his murderer's name. The familiar blood ran across the blond's hands, and he gripped the handle firmly and pulled it forward, through quivering flesh. In brief seconds, the grizzled mobster was lying on the ground, pale, cold and unmoving. Minhyuk stood, trembling, trying to get over the waves of shock and adrenaline, like the time before. Unconsciously, he ran his hand through his hair, getting the part bloody and wet.

When he glanced up, Hyungwon was standing there in the moonlight, staring at him. "You again," He said in that lazy drawl, and knelt down to wave his hand over the dead man's face. Minhyuk couldn't help but notice the gray mist that swirled up as he did so.

He chuckled. "Of course it's me. Who else would you expect?"

"I take thousands of murdered souls every day, sir—"

"Minhyuk's the name. Lee Minhyuk." A strange, wide smile grew on the blond's face. "And if that's true, than you remember me. I'm flattered."

Hyungwon's eyes widened, mouth falling open. "Okay, right. Minhyuk. It's not a wonder I didn't forget. You can see me. Not everyone has that honor."

In the moment, a few questions rushed through Minhyuk's head: Why were he and Yujin able to see Hyungwon, after all? Perhaps death was simply as lonely a fate as it was said to be, and they had happened upon the reaper at the brief point in time when he was making his call. Still, as soon as the musings were there, they were gone again, replaced by a single, voiced thought. "You know, I'm going to keep killing until you see me how I see you."

Hyungwon's eyebrow perked, and he glanced up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Until you realize how beautiful you look bent over a dead body." Honey-laced words slipped out before Minhyuk could stop them.

It was easy to miss the small smirk that formed on the reaper's face, but it certainly did not go unnoticed by the human. "Did you just confess to me?"

"Perhaps I did."

"Hm. I'll have to mark this down as one of the more interesting experiences I've had in my years on the job."

"It better be the last time someone says anything like that to you, too." Minhyuk growled. Suddenly overtaken by boldness, he stepped forward, over the corpse, to tug on Hyungwon's white collar. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the grim reaper bent over all too easily. Their lips met in a one-sided, rough kiss. When they pulled away, the shorter man's eyes were heavy with want. Almost, need. It pained him to see Hyungwon walk back into the shadows and vanish. Though Minhyuk's lust in the moment gave him more of a rush than killing, he also wanted to keep teasing, have the beautiful boy keep him at arm's length for a long time to come.

As Lee Minhyuk watched the blood wash down the drain that night, he stroked himself and violently came to fantasies of the ever-so-tantalizing, otherworldly heat of death's harbinger. Talk about a guilty pleasure.

So, Lee Minhyuk became a serial killer. As the number of times he killed rose, the line between the bliss of seeing his enemies' deaths and encountering death itself blurred together. He always got a kick and a rush out of how they always agreed to meet him alone, thinking that there was absolutely no way that Lee Minhyuk, the pansy, could hurt them. Then when the first metallic kiss of the knife reduced them to a babbling mess, their eyes opened wide. Right after that thrill, another always came. For a while, seeing the grim reaper was enough, though he remained distant, quiet, and passive. Thus it was that Minhyuk's life became one of thirst, for blood and the gaze of Chae Hyungwon.

At some point, people within the crime ring realized that there was someone picking them off, systematically getting rid of certain individuals. After the sixth man fell, Mr. Cha decided that enough was enough and they needed to catch this psycho son of a bitch, now. He might have also been aware that his own life was hanging in the balance, but under the guise of caring for his men, he decided to put one of his lackeys on the case. The appointed scapegoat would start probing around to see if anyone was helping this killer, and what he was being paid for taking out those on his hit list. Well, that lackey happened to be Shin "Wonho" Hoseok.

Just like many others, Hoseok was a good guy who had gotten tangled up in bad situations. Some of the victims had been, too, before their untimely demises. So understandably, he was scared. He came into this new position—a promotion, of sorts—knowing that it might put him on the list for elimination. He was grateful, however, and prepared. So, Wonho listened attentively to what his boss had to say. Mr. Cha passed a few documents over, mostly crime scene reports taken from the police files. All of these violent and systematic killings had been assumed to be syndicate-related, and so the paid officers on the force had kept hush-hush so far, out of the public news, not bothering to follow up on investigations.

The handsome, yet strong young man set straight to work, poring through the files. Then he started to stick his hands in the muck, calling his contacts one by one. Because of his sexy body and cute smile, he could get pretty much whatever he wanted, from anyone he set his sights on. Still, it didn't seem to matter, as all he found was fear like his own. So many people were scared that they'd be next, that somehow this twisted, knife-wielding figure would find them in the night and end their lives prematurely. Wonho couldn't find anyone willing to admit they were paying an assassin, and he doubted that anyone he talked to was lying about not knowing anything of that nature, so he quickly became stuck. And with time not on his side (another two men had been slain while he talked to everyone he could think of) something had to be done. He had no choice but to go to his last resort. It would be a long shot, he knew, and very risky, but if he was persistent, things might just pay off.

So, on a Tuesday afternoon, he strolled into a stone building downtown and made his way to the third floor, where a cozy lobby was tucked away. The petite brunette secretary frowned when she looked in her book and saw he hadn't called in advance.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but Mr. Son rarely sees clients without an appointment."

"That's okay," Hoseok said, cheerily. "Can't hurt to ask, huh?"

"He's busy right now," she seemed to be growing ever more flustered and annoyed at Hoseok's sunny smile. "You don't have much of a chance, sir--"

"I'm willing to wait." Promptly, Wonho went to one of the hard chairs in the lobby, set his folders on his lap, and started to glance out the window, knowing that looking at nothing would set her at unease.

Though the girl behind the desk still huffed at him for a while, his hard work paid off, eventually. It only took a half-hour, too. Muttering something like fine, she sighed and picked up the telephone at her side, holding down the receiver hook and waiting for a moment. Presently, there was a click, and a male voice floated through, faintly: "Yes, Miss Hani?"

"Mr. Son...I know that you usually don't take walk-ins, but there's a young man out here who won't leave. He's staring out the window, driving me crazy, and I swear his pout is something even the most hardened of men can't resist—"

"Alright, well if he's so insistent, send him in, then." (Wonho cheered inwardly, but he fought the smile that wanted to grow on his face.)

"Of course, sir." As the secretary set down the phone, her eyes drifted back up to Hoseok, who had stood to await directions. "Down the hall, on the left. It's pretty hard to miss his name on the window. Knock before you go in."

The mafia man gave her a deep bow and polite thanks, and made his way closer to the office he needed. He passed two doors before stopping in front of where Son Hyunwoo, Private Detective was carefully hand-painted on a frosted pane in gold letters. Despite his outwardly cool and collected countenance, the files couldn't seem to stop shifting in his hand, and he was sweating underneath his collar. If he was caught associating with anyone but his brothers, he would be killed for sure, and not by the serial murderer. The only thing Hoseok felt could help him now, though, was a fresh, experienced pair of eyes, and he had come to some of the best ones in the world. South Korea's resident sleuth, Son Hyunwoo wasn't just a household name in his own country; the man was famous internationally. He had an uncanny ability to crack the toughest cases, even some that were decades cold. No wonder he had been so hard to find and see, people off the street must often demand his services.

Hoseok raised his fist, knocked firmly three times, and was greeted by a flat "come in". He didn't need a second prompting, turning the burnished brass knob and slipping into the room. Usually, he wasn't one to be shy, but all of a sudden Wonho was aware of a pair of eyes on him, and the weight this meeting carried. He could barely look at the investigator's desk, let alone the man himself, as he turned toward it and bowed. "Son Hyunwoo? I'm Wonho. I'm sorry to bother you, if you're busy right now. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

A warm and rich (though slightly robotic) voice hit the mobster's ear and melted there. "It's fine, and you're welcome. Please, no need to be so formal. Take a seat, would you?" Immediately, Hoseok scrambled to do as he was told, settling down in a hard wooden chair again before gathering the courage to glance up. When he finally was able, he couldn't stop a gasp from slipping his lips, and his eyes widened. The detective was--handsome. He had dark hair and broad, muscular shoulders that reminded Wonho of his own. They were filling out an almost-too-small white button up shirt and suspenders. His lips were parted a little, head popped up from a pile of paperwork. Thick glasses framed his eyes, and his pen tapped gently on the desk. This was him? The world-famous sleuth and warrior for justice? It had to be, Hoseok thought. He had the same voice as on the phone, and the name was on the door and also a desk placard, so there was no room for doubt.

"Something wrong? What is it?" The detective asked after a long moment of silence.

Shaking his head side to side to clear the jumble of thoughts, Hoseok chuckled. "Sorry. I just--wasn't expecting someone so young."

And hot.

"Well, what did you think you'd see?"

"Ah--I really can't say. Someone graying I think, the picture of a grizzled veteran. Or, maybe tall and skinny, like Sherlock Holmes. How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-four," Hyunwoo replied. "Yeah...many people are thrown the first time they meet me."

"I mean, it's not that you don't look like a P.I, and a damn good one at that too. It's just that your reputation precedes you...makes you seem older, more experienced, ya know?"

"I know." Something akin to sadness flitted across the detective's face, but then he squared himself and gave a curt nod. "But I promise that I'm every bit as good as what they say in the papers."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." Probably good in bed, too, Hoseok thought fleetingly, but shoved it down. Now the two men wore matching smirks. "Well, um, that said...let's get to the point, huh?"

Hyunwoo leaned back and gestured for Hoseok to continue. The mob man swallowed. "Before I ask...I need to make it clear that if you choose to help me, you might be making enemies with the law. You'll be saving lives, but depending on where you stand, whether those lives are worth saving is...questionable." Turning and rummaging around in the pocket of his coat, he produced three one hundred dollar bills and laid them on the desk. "Here's some money for your trouble, don't worry, it's mine. Take it as a little promise, and payment of a walk-in fee...though I doubt you have one in the first place."

Something glinted deep behind Hyunwoo's pupils. Though anyone would have expected it to be about the cash, Hoseok realized with a jolt that wasn't the case. The detective seemed to be more interested in the hand that paid it, and his eyes narrowed, searching Hoseok's face. "Okay...I'm intrigued. Go on."

"I don't mean to dance around anything with you, and that said, I think you should first know that I work for Mr. Cha Jaemin."

"As in, rules the city and the black market...Kingpin of crime, most wanted on every list, Cha Jaemin?" Hyunwoo seemed incredulous.

"The one and only." Anyone even close to the police and crime in this city knew the big boss's name. Just speaking it had a way of instilling fear into people. "But this is not for him. This is for the boys...my brothers, if you know what I mean. See, there's been someone picking us off, and we're not quite sure who. He's murdered eight of us in the last three weeks." Hoseok leaned back and flipped open the file on top of his pile, turning it toward the investigator.

Hyunwoo took it, and scanned the document briefly. "Police reports...where'd you get these?"

"Mr. Cha has his ways." Hoseok, himself, wasn't sure how. Perhaps a dirty cop or inside man snuck them out for him. "Some of the men being killed are close to the Boss, and have at one point or another been his close friends. But the reason I'm here, talking to you, is..." Pulling out another file, Hoseok opened it and placed it on top of the other. "This is Moon Jongup...or was Moon Jongup, a buddy of mine before the Mafia killer ended his life. He was a good guy...just a runner, pulled into crime against his will. He had a wife and unborn child, who now are without a husband and father. There are a lot of us who are scared, Mr. Son, because we're in the same boat. We have families and dreams just like any other person, and we're afraid we're going to be next."

The detective paused, staring at the photograph of Jongup's bloody body. It was a long minute before he spoke again. "What about you, Wonho?" His voice rumbled quietly. Hoseok swallowed when Hyunwoo's gaze met his again. "Why are you here, asking me for help?"

"I'm the one being paid to work the case, but not in this way. Mr. Cha is convinced that this is a paid hitman and sent me to talk to people, but I've probed my entire web and still nothing. I've run out of viable options. Besides, I have people I want to protect, too."

"So, then I take it that Wonho isn't your real name."

It meant protector. Hoseok had started calling himself that, and it stuck with everyone. He could have, should have, denied it. It wouldn't have been a stretch to smile wistfully and pass it off as coincidence. For some reason, however, he already trusted Hyunwoo. "Yeah, no, it's not." The mobster sighed and dropped his gaze. "My given is Hoseok--Shin Hoseok."

"That one fits you, too." The mobster dared to glance up, and had to stop and get his heart beating again. Hyunwoo was smiling, showing white teeth and crescent moon eyes with wrinkles on the outsides. Damn that cute expression. Maybe Hoseok shouldn't have trusted the detective with his knowledge, because all of a sudden blush was rising to his cheeks.

The moment was fleeting, and sorely missed as Hyunwoo's expression set, determination flashing behind his eyes. "Alright. I shall help you, no matter the consequences to my practice or reputation. If there is one man like you we can save...It will be worth everything." The detective offered his hand, and Hoseok met it with a firm grip. Happiness danced on the younger man's face. Tears were gathering in the corners, tears of relief, that was. Maybe together, they'd be able to take down this killer. They traded files, and Hyunwoo took the others and started combing. "So...what makes you so certain that this is one man doing all these by himself?"

"I don't know. There's not really any concrete proof, other than the patterns are similar and the victims' connections. Most of us--who kill, or have killed at one point or another, do it in much the same way. So yes, it could be a couple or few separate individuals. I just have a feeling about it being one person, someone no one would suspect, and that's why he's been so successful thus far."

"Fair enough. You know, looking at all these pictures side by side..." Hyunwoo pulled a couple and laid them out in front of him. "The placement of the knife wound, dominant hand, and position of the bodies all point to a single murderer as well. A...serial killer, at the stage this is at."

"God...just as I'd feared. We have a lunatic on our hands."

"It seems so."

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but for Minhyuk, it boiled down to the fact that he was getting pretty desperate. Every kill, and every day that passed, only brought him closer to his goals, but at times it didn't seem to be enough. He tried everything he could think of, no matter how inane or complicated, but still the object of his affection was transient and out of reach. Hyungwon didn't return his love, though he did seem to be opening up. It gave the blond hope, but he needed more time, precious hours, days that he might not have. The list of the original nine left alive was always shortening. Plus, he could feel himself growing in favor with Mr. Cha. The Boss often asked for Minhyuk to come into his office, only to tell him something inconsequential and send him away again, or "have him around" (the younger man heard from others what this would lead to, and strangely, he wasn't fazed). The killer inside of him starting to unintentionally look for other motives. One he found was a dogfighting ring using family pets stolen out of yards. Those who showed up to watch often bet which canine would die first. All those poor slain dogs made Minhyuk's soft side hurt and anger flare, and soon the illegal matches had to stop because spectators and organizers were too afraid.

Then things got out of hand—the body count expanded to fifteen. It was getting harder, as well, to lure victims out in the open. People started to notice that the mafia killer had a pattern. Men who usually were unafraid of anything now ducked for cover, and paled at the mention of the string of murders. Confusion reigned, above all, regarding the identity of the killer, and people scrambled to make accusations, all false ones. Minhyuk found himself almost drunk on this feeling of power, no matter how anonymous it was. He now enjoyed the feeling of blood on his hands, thick and warm, almost hot. Also, the sight of red mixed with clear water, swirling down the shower drain, became a constant he depended on.

Hyungwon, of course, wasn't aware of all of this, or the human's vendetta. He had his job, and that was it. Time to linger was not afforded him. Still, the grim reaper was all too conscious of the obsession. After that second meeting, and Minhyuk's kiss, the taller boy tried to keep himself detached and cold, hoping it would go away. That quickly became a flimsy wish. Time and again he was sent to collect another slain soul, and as soon as he arrived on the scene, knew who had done it. The blond's pattern was all too clear, and he would always be waiting. It was getting harder to ignore the urgency in the human's fleeting touches. He often grabbed Hyungwon's hand and begged him to stay, if only for one more minute. The puppy-like eyes and little pout was hard to resist, so perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise when it happened for the first time, and Hyungwon found himself acquiescing. A heart still existed in his chest, after all, even if it wasn't beating. Rolling his eyes, he pulled Minhyuk into a hug, though it wasn't warm--literally. (The reaper was practically undead, so he didn't have body heat.) Minhyuk didn't seem to mind though, nuzzling into the taller's neck and squeezing him affectionately in return. That seemed to placate him until their next meeting, when again the shorter asked to be held, and again Hyungwon gave in.

The tall grim reaper hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time, he had been a twisted double agent. Though he started out working just for his own country, with time, greed became his vice. No one could resist the handsome soldier's charms and good looks. Soon he was playing every side he could for money and power. Minhyuk was a murderer, but Hyungwon had been so much more. One of the curses of him "living" to walk the earth and collect souls was that he could remember and name off every one of his kills, conquests, and underhanded activities, even two hundred years after he had committed them. On that last day, he walked into his bed-chamber at night, shut the door behind him, and was met with the point of a knife digging into the nape of his neck. He didn't need to know which one of his enemies was there lying in wait, because it really didn't matter. He challenged the person in the darkness to just get it over with already, and they had. (It was a woman, whose husband Hyungwon had fucked and killed a few weeks before.)

He expected to go to hell, but didn't imagine it to be full of ashen-pale, tangible people, beings that could almost be alive. At his curious gaze, they steered him away from the lines of other straggling souls and brought him to a lavishly-furnished room. These were the quarters of the shining deity, Lucifer. That day he had learned that he could see death, so he was to become death, himself. Some people earned it, like in his case, with all the wrong they'd done in their brief Earthly stay, and others just never lost the ability to look upon the face of a reaper after growing out of childhood. Hyungwon would still have a body, and a memory, but his emotions and free will would be stripped completely. Or, so Satan told him. Now, though, as the reaper carried out orders, cursed to do the same wretched thing for the rest of eternity, something was different. He wasn't supposed to be feeling anything, and yet he was. Was he truly changing, or...maybe, was Minhyuk changing him?

Because despite the reaper's determination not to get too close, somewhere along the way, the man who murdered to see death was causing a stir in his chest. Sometimes Hyungwon could swear that blood coursed languidly through his veins once more when he emerged on crime scenes that were so clearly the blond's. It had been a long time since the reaper had been needed like this, but that wasn't quite convinced that this was the sole reason why Lee Minhyuk succeeded in breaking him down. The shorter boy was not the kind of person Hyungwon would have liked to see in life, but death had changed him, and he came to appreciate the kinder things in the world. Certainly, one of them was how cute Minhyuk's smile was, another the change in his countenance when he saw the grim reaper, and yet another his uneven blink. Then there was the aesthetic side. Hyungwon came to look forward to stepping out of the mist, into the night, and seeing how the moonlight fell on the soft features of Minhyuk's face. Even the blood that often dripped from his hands was sexy, and how the other always got his hair red and wet from running his fingers through it. Before long, Hyungwon realized that he was majorly screwed. Because despite how he knew it was so wrong to love the human, he couldn't help the fact that he had taken over his entire existence. It was only a matter of time until he would crack.

One fine, breezy night, Hyungwon emerged upon a familiar scene. A body was laying on the ground, knife embedded in that well-placed spot on the neck, as like so many times before. There was one crucial thing missing, though: the murderer. Hyungwon about panicked and was going to look around, but then a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. A body pressed into his back, and lips, hot and full, moved against his shoulder. "Hello, sexy boy," Minhyuk murmured into the wool of the reaper's long trench coat.

So many times, Hyungwon had considered returning the murderer's affection, allowing himself to fall in love. But he could never bring himself to. There was too big of a rift between them, and it made things even more painful when they were close like this. Sighing, the taller tried to hold out. "You know there's no way we could possibly be together—"

"Fuck that." The hug became a vice grip, and the grim reaper jumped. He had never heard Minhyuk angry before. "We're together now. What if we could, even it's just for seconds at a time? Do you want me like I want you?"

Damn, the guy could be so needy sometimes. Hyungwon rolled his eyes and turned around in the shorter's arms. Then, half-closing his eyes, he leaned down and caught those red lips with his own. At first, Minhyuk didn't respond, but presently, perhaps out of instinct, he reciprocated the kiss, moving slowly against the reaper's mouth.

"...oh," Minhyuk gasped when they broke. The taller boy smiled slyly, reveling in the fact that he had caught the other so off-guard he didn't know what to say. Hyungwon knew that the murderer had probably dreamed of that moment.

"Now." The reaper wriggled his way out of the embrace. "I have a job to do, so if you'll excuse me..."

A soft whine slipped involuntarily out of Minhyuk's mouth, and he scrabbled forward to wrap Hyungwon in a hug again. "No, Wonnie, one more minute...one more kiss? Pleeease?"

Nights where Minhyuk was clingy like this were the grim reaper's bane and joy, all at the same time, it seemed. He clicked his tongue and shook his head at the blond. "Alright. Just let me go for a minute. There's a soul that kinda needs to be taken care of, or else you'll have a ghost on your ass for the rest of your life."

Hyungwon felt the grip on him hesitantly loosen, and he went to where the newest victim lay face-up on the dirt. As usual he waved a hand over the dead guy's face, and the grim reaper felt the spirit join his own, disappearing into him. Then he returned to Minhyuk's embrace.

"Does this mean...that you'd say yes to being mine?" The puppy eyes were on, and like always they could make the most hardened heart soft. "I know you told me there was no way we could be together, but if I asked you to reconsider, would you?"

The serial killer's tone was pleading, almost desperate, and it took Hyungwon aback. He had to pause and consider it. If this was anyone else, he'd probably laugh and insist on no. "I--I still am having trouble hoping. But I do want you."

Minhyuk reached up to kiss him. "All I need is these small moments. Even if I'm a fool to depend on them."

"But what about when we can't see each other anymore?"

"When I know that, will be the moment I can't go on living. I'll give myself a taste of my own medicine, turn my knife on myself..."

"No, no, don't say any more, you'll be lost to me forever," Hyungwon silenced his boyfriend with a thumb to the lips. "Yeah...just--enjoy the time you have. I'll think of something, ok?"

And so Hyungwon and Minhyuk started to work out the problems that came with being from two completely realms--the dead and the living--and how romance worked then. It was a lot of standing together, the human half-snuggled under Hyungwon's trenchcoat, breathing in his scent. The reaper's noodle arms held everything together, and kisses were frequent. Minhyuk didn't mind the lack of heat in his boyfriend's embrace, because the passion was there in place. If he wasn't in love before, he was now.

The grim reaper was at a loss. He pondered every possible way they could be together, but there was nothing. A couple times he prayed for something to be shown to him. Not like anyone would hear, even Lucifer. He was just at his wit's end.

Minhyuk didn't expect the day to come as soon as it did. He knew the times he saw Mr. Cha staring at him were getting more frequent, and the time spent close to him hit stretches of three hours straight or more. Still, one night, when the Boss sent for him at nine-thirty pm, a strange time and not at all like usual, something felt different. Perhaps, more final.

The kingpin always demanded that his men arrive within twenty minutes of the summons. Consequences were harsh if one did not comply, so Minhyuk made extra sure he wasn't wasting even a second. The man standing watch brought him upstairs, to a familiar wooden door. The blond had to draw in a long, slow breath of air before pushing it open. To say he was nervous was a huge understatement. If this was the night he was going to murder Mr. Cha, he better make sure it happened, because he only had one chance. If the boss was any less than shocked and surprised, Minhyuk probably wouldn't live to see the next day.

Almost immediately, an imposing figure came into view, behind a fortress of a wooden desk. The room was dark, except for the moonlight through two picture windows, on either side of the large oak construction. A single lamp also shined. All caution and concern rose to the forefront of Minhyuk's mind, and suddenly his feet wanted to run. Despite his intentions, far away from here was the best place to be now. Still, with a mental effort, he made himself stay still, and then bend at the waist toward his employer.

It might be strange for some to imagine someone like Cha Jaemin to be reading a book about legitimate business, and yet he was. Setting it down and taking off his bifocals, the boss crooked a finger in the blond's direction. "Ah, Minhyuk. Come here." The young man obeyed, dipping his head respectfully as he approached the big hunk of oak. Mr. Cha's gaze, tinged with something that sent a sweep of distaste and anxiety through the younger man, swept him appraisingly. Obviously, there was more than mild curiosity in it. Something glimmered behind the kingpin's eyes. The only little comfort he had was a letter opener on the desk, gleaming and calling his name as it sat by a stack of mail.

"You remind me so much of your mother," he said at last, pushing himself up from the chair to walk around toward Minhyuk's side. The killer was all too aware that he was being caged in against the oak desk. He turned so that he could face his boss head-on.

"You have her cheekbones, complexion...lips..."

By this point, the two of them were pretty much pressed together; Minhyuk leaned back as far as he could, but it was still no use. The older man reached over to swipe one rough thumb across Minhyuk's jaw, before the latter found himself pulled into an unwanted kiss. Of course, this wasn't completely unexpected, but that didn't make it any less repulsive. At least, hopefully, his momentary tense state made things a little more believable. The young man struggled within himself for a moment before allowing himself to melt into the kiss, eyelids drooping closed. If he pretended that the rough nibbling on his bottom lip was Hyungwon, and not his boss, it made things slightly better.

A slap on the ass elicited a gasp from the younger, and he popped his eyes open to see lust in Mr. Cha's dark irises. "You taste like her, too...absolutely perfect."

Their lips reconnected, and a pair of greedy hands pressed their bodies together. The creepy crawlies in Minhyuk's belly only intensified as he felt something stiff poke his thigh. It was in that moment that reality caught up, and it took all he had to not throw up in the jackass's face. This is actually happening...we're about to--

Mr. Cha pushed him back onto the desk. After a solid thirty seconds of fumbling with the younger's belt and pants button, he was able to slip one hand underneath the fabric. The other worked up Minhyuk's dress shirt, undoing the buttons and exposing milky pale chest. The blond did not want his cock stroked, but allowed it. In addition to letting his mind blank, he did everything in his power to keep from moaning and groaning, biting the inside of his lip. Still, how his body showed pleasure was a more automatic thing, so nevertheless he was hardening under his not-father's hand. Minhyuk scrabbled for a grip and stability and tried to claw at the other's chest too. Instead of acting as a signal to back off, as intended, though, it only seemed to make the older man more greedy and impatient. Of course, this was Cha Jaemin, who always got what he wanted and never took no as an answer. Though the mob boss didn't realize it, the younger's desperate gestures, that practically screamed get off me and you sick fuck, were a last chance to save himself.

But, again, much to both Minhyuk's horror and pleasure, he went completely ignored. Mr. Cha was all in. Now, there was only the need for the perfect moment.

"Fuck, do you know how beautiful you are? I guess I should have known, though, you are my legacy, after all." This affirmation, punctuated by ugly, heavy breathing, was followed by a smirk that managed to be lewd and sly and evil all at the same time. "On the desk for me, pretty boy."

The blond obeyed, though every fiber of him screamed not to. They were moving like a freight train, and honestly, if Mr. Cha's life wasn't hanging in the balance, the younger would be jumping out the window right that moment. Rough hands gripped Minhyuk's waist, pulling him ever closer to the edge. The blond didn't need to look down to know that his boss's hard cock was prominent through his slacks. Minhyuk's was straining his own fabrics, too. When his pants and underwear came down and off his legs, the cold air that hit it brought some semblance of much-needed relief. Then the crime boss was unzipping his own fly, and again the younger man couldn't look. He didn't even want to think about it.

Minhyuk was finally able to get the letter opener in a position ideal for the task at hand. Luckily, Mr. Cha was so engrossed in his sick pleasure that he didn't notice. "God, look at your ass...why didn't I make it mine before?" A rough finger, coated in oil, filled him up, and at that point it was impossible to imagine it was Hyungwon anymore.

The digits were a countdown: One, and then a few seconds later, two. The blond's killer instinct shoved down his instinctive pleasure reactions, and left him staring intently, anticipation and adrenaline building.

Three.

The sharp silver blade glinted in the moonlight of the office, and like twenty-one times before, it hit its mark. The force was more brutal, too, since Minhyuk was, physically, very close to the victim. For the first time that evening, a grin grew across his face as Mr. Cha immediately went flaccid, and pulled his fingers out of the younger man.

Normally, at this point Minhyuk would break the 'numb' that came with being stabbed by jigging the knife around in the wound, but he had some things that the boss needed to hear. "That's for my mom," he growled. "Like the other eight were for her, too."

"Y--you," Mr. Cha was finally able to croak, and giving a grunt, the younger boy ripped the letter opener back out of him. "You--'re the,"

He didn't finish, because this time Minhyuk found a second point: slightly left of middle, in the older man's chest. Cha Jaemin choked and spit up blood.

"Yeah, yeah, it's been me this whole time...didn't think I'd do anything, huh? That I would never be a threat? You could just gloat that you created me with that dick of yours, use me like an animal, and then move on with your life? Like you have with so many others? No, I've taken things into my own hands. I'm sick of living under your thumb." Now was the chance to cause him pain. The younger boy clamped a hand around the crime boss's throat, preventing him from making much more than a croak while Minhyuk twisted that motherfucking letter opener with everything he had. He stopped only when he knew the guy was at his pain threshold. "You'll never be my father. My surname's Lee. Go to hell and suck on that cock of a fact."

In addition from not being able to breathe because of Minhyuk's strangely strong hand crushing his windpipe, Mr. Cha was already bleeding from the neck, and struggling with a pierced lung. His terrified expression cemented in time when he choked on blood one last time and the last breath left his body.

That was it, the younger man realized in the moment. The deed was done.

Once again, Minhyuk found his hands covered in blood. He didn't mind, though. Shoving Mr. Cha's body off of him, he let it hit the floor with a thud, and the younger boy shakily got up. Turning, he grabbed a pen from the desktop, and a piece of paper, letting his thoughts and reasons flow out onto the page. He wasn't quite sure why he did, it just was something he needed in the moment. The note was finished quickly, since he had been planning what it would say for as long as he could remember.

Then, afterwards, he summoned up everything he had and headed for a couch by the window on the other side of the room. The momentary burst of strength waned quickly, however, and finally exhaustion crashed in. The mental strain of everything was too much, and he collapsed on the soft cushions, running a hand through his hair, head lolling back. His naked chest heaved up and down, rising and falling in broken time with his panting. The lingering adrenaline, and how he was still painfully hard and exposed to the world, made his face flush red. There was also the feeling of being prepped but un-penetrated, the wet of the oil nearly driving him crazy. Thought after thought after thought sped across his conscience, coming and going before finally he blanked out completely.

One more time, he opened his eyes and glanced over to where Mr. Cha Jaemin laid on the floor, cold and dead. Then he let his weighted lids fall. Everything was over, thank God. The last thing he wanted in life was done and squared away. He had revenge for his mother and father, revenge for himself.

The blond sat there for what seemed like an eternity (much the same as the first time he had killed). Then, there was a sound: the office door opening. Light, familiar footsteps only barely disturbed the calm atmosphere that had settled over everything. Minhyuk thought he heard a second of hesitancy, and a quick, stunned breath. It could have been the ghost of a reaction, though, because in moments clothes rustled as Hyungwon knelt over the mob boss's body. Minhyuk, in his mind's eye, could see that slender hand waving over the dead face, gray mist disappearing into his palm, and suddenly, he was turned on again. Moaning a little, he bucked unconsciously into the air. Never had he wanted a touch more, for someone's fingers around his cock. It made him want to jerk himself off, but something held him back.

More soft footfalls echoed through the silence, coming closer. Fabric chafed again, and something heavy and woolen was laid over the couch; a coat. Slightly warm lips brushed the blond's. Then, so gently that the human might have called it a dream, his undead boyfriend's hand wrapped around his member and started to pump. Minhyuk felt a jolt of pleasure course through him, and dragged his eyes open to the heavenly sight of Hyungwon straddling him, pupils blown and lips trembling with desire.

"Fuck," the grim reaper muttered. "You weren't kidding when you said you'd do anything."

Minhyuk was barely able to smile and shake his head. He had told his boyfriend about the vendetta during the nights they stood close, huddled together over a murder victim. "No..." He felt like he could burn up at any moment, and Hyungwon's grazing touches weren't enough. "Shit, Wonnie, don't tease...I need you..."

The grip on his dick tightened, and lips drifted down the blond's neck, sucking at a bruise Mr. Cha had made. Still, death's voice was snappish and concerned, though it didn't lose its lazy tendency. "You knew this would happen, hmm?" Minhyuk nodded. "Why didn't you mention it? I could have done something. You belong to me."

An unwanted, disbelieving chuckle slipped out of the murderer's mouth. "Can't fool me, Wonnie. You might be here for souls, but you're not the killer of the two of us. That's why I've gotta do it."

"Not quite true." Hyungwon dusted kisses along Minhyuk's jaw, and the latter could feel the smirk on his face. "It's painful in the extreme for the other person, but I can steal a soul prematurely. Once the soul is gone, the body cannot function."

"That's the cruelest thing I've-ah--ever heard."

"Yeah, it's pretty messed-up."

"I would ask if you'd do it to me, but--"

"Shh, shh." Hyungwon went to silence him with his own lips. "Let's not talk about that now. Just relax. God, I really wish I could fuck you into the couch so hard your soul wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow."

"Me, too, but...your hand is almost as good, baby." Minhyuk gave a shudder and gasp when the reaper swiped his thumb over his slit, and immediately afterwards dived into a more passionate kiss. "I wanna touch you, too," he whined, gently dragging his hand over the front of Hyungwon's pants.

"Then touch me."

The blond's fingers were shaky, but he managed to undo the button and slide underneath the layers. It might have been his imagination, but was the vein on the underside of his boyfriend's length throbbing a little?

Hyungwon slowed his strokes on Minhyuk as the pleasure started to register. Having someone touch him like this was better than he remembered--or maybe it was just because this was Lee Minhyuk, the serial killer who could see death, and consequently fell in love with death--and death had fallen in love with him, too.

Something occurred to the tall boy in that moment, something he hadn't thought about until now. "Minhyukkie? What if I told you that--that we could be together forever?"

It was hard to breathe, let alone speak, when they were constantly wasting air in heaving pants. Minhyuk was drawing closer to his end, and Hyungwon felt--stiff--

"You're hard," The former murmured in awe, and the grim reaper's eyes widened.

"What?

"You're literally, erect." Minhyuk said, breath ragged. His cock twitched under his boyfriend's hand. Simultaneously, Hyungwon's did, too, and that was when the taller realized that it was true. He even had precome starting to bead on the tip. I'm dead, I shouldn't be able to-- permeated his mind for a split second, before Minhyuk grabbed his chin, gazed into his glazed eyes, and pleaded, earnestly:

"Wonnie, please, please fuck me."

Who would Hyungwon be if he didn't heed that request? Soon his own clothes were draped over his coat, and he was positioned between Minhyuk's spread legs. The blond was spine-down, laying on the couch, waiting with breathing uneven and so much lust in his eyes. Hyungwon pressed the head of his cock into the already-lubed and prepped ring of muscle, and pushed himself firmly in, coaxing a moan from the human. "Sh--shit. Your ass is to die for, all over again."

The reaper started slow, picking up pace as Minhyuk asked for more. Their moans filled the silence, broken curses and phrases of adoration, until unexplainably, Hyungwon's train of thought from earlier returned. "W--what if I told you that we could be together forever?" Too wound up to reply properly, the blond just listened, knowing he'd probably go on, and he did. "I didn't realize until now, but you can see me...the only ones who are able are children, and...those destined to become re--reapers themselves."

"So you're saying--when I die--"

"You'll be the same as me, and we won't be separated by the burning chasm." Hyungwon dove in for another kiss, and his hand slipped to Minhyuk's cock, slipping up and down it at a critical pace. The human tightened his grip around his boyfriend's neck and moaned loudly as he finally came, spilling across his own belly.

Minhyuk's orgasm sent the reaper over the edge, too, and his cum filled his boyfriend's ass. For a moment, death felt that he was in heaven.

"Together forever," came a shaky voice underneath him. "What are we waiting for?"

☛ E P I L O G U E

"So...this is it, huh?"

"I-I think so." Hoseok stuttered in reply, picking up a piece of paper from the desk, white sanitary gloves gently touching the corners. "This note seems to be the end-all...he even admits to having murdered twenty-one people for revenge, and love. I have no clue what that means though, or what the context is?"

"Yeah, Damn...we'll probably never know for sure." Hyunwoo whistled and glanced at the scene in front of him. After so much sleuthing together, time in the lab, and finding a bloody handprint on the wall of the alley where the first two murders had taken place, the two of them had finally felt comfortable enough to come to the Boss and present their findings. However, it wasn't to be, because instead, they had opened the door on a fresh, brutal scene. Two men had met their end, one was Mr. Cha and by familiar knife wound, and the other, their prime suspect, Lee Minhyuk, apparently of natural causes. They were both naked from the waist down, the former facedown on the floor. The detective had seen some pretty strange things in his lifetime, but this was at another level.

"Oh my God." Wonho sucked in a breath, and Hyunwoo snapped his head around just in time to watch his eyes widen. "Fucking-listen to this:

'Mr. Cha Jaemin will never hurt anyone again. I am glad. Such scum does not deserve to walk the Earth, let alone hold power over people. He claims me as his son, and I might very well be, as he violated my mother and I was born nine months afterwards. I found myself at his mercy again tonight, and though my current state might be conflicting, I would never allow the same thing that made me, in me...'

"um,

'good thing I have my sweet love Death to help me through. He should be here any minute, and everything will be alright.'

"This is crazy. I mean it's always been obvious that the Boss was off the deep end. But Minhyuk, I did not expect this at all..." the younger man swallowed, pink tinting his cheeks. "I guess I should have told you this before, but I knew him...just a little. Mutual acquaintances-you know."

"That's okay. You didn't need to say anything. It wasn't important to the case. Actually, I'm proud of you for not letting yourself drag emotion in. We had conclusive physical evidence that he was the murderer, and now it's all confirmed."

"Yeah...I guess. He was actually a pretty nice guy, family had been in the Mafia for years, so when he tried to disassociate himself he got sucked right back in again. His smile could light up a room. Cared for his friends, too...Yujin called him Uncle Min'ook."

"Jooheon and Changkyun's daughter?"

"Right." Glancing over at Minhyuk's body (now partway covered by a white sheet), Hoseok sighed and frowned. "Well, I'm not going to question it. What's over is over. I really don't think there's much more to solve, here...our lives go on as normal."

There was something final and sad in his words, an undertone that Hyunwoo understood. In that moment, he knew he needed to do something. The older, taller boy's eyebrows knitted together, and in seconds he had crossed the room, enveloping Wonho in a backhug. "Hoseok...I thought that my actions were clear, but maybe not. Just because the case is over...I don't want this--" he gestured between the two of them, "to end. I'm not letting you walk away, like nothing. I've really come to depend on you, and...I think...I might be, falling in love with you." Hyunwoo bit his tongue, knowing he'd taken a risk, and this could go either way.

Wonho tipped his head back to rest on the detective's strong shoulder, and their fingers laced together. "Yeah, me neither," he confessed quietly. "I wanna keep seeing you...being with you."

"Then be my boyfriend," Hyunwoo begged. "There's nothing I'd love more."

A wide, white smile spread across the mobster's face. "Of course. Gladly." Wonho turned around and pulled the detective down to him for a shy kiss. When they broke, the younger melted at the little crinkly eyesmile he was met with.

But then Hyunwoo's face fell. He sucked in a big breath and murmured, "Oh."

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"Your boss is dead. So, doesn't that technically make you unemployed?"

"Well-yeah." Hoseok lifted an eyebrow in confusion. "But that's not a big deal, I can just find another job now."

"You don't have to, if you come work with me. You can be my personal assistant, like John Watson to Sherlock Holmes--and we can fuck on lab tables whenever you want--"

"Shut up, you're so cheesy, hyung." Their lips met again, and the younger chuckled, blushing a little. It had happened a few times while they were working in there alone, late at night, and Hoseok would easily admit that it was some of the most spectacular sex he'd ever had. "As long as you wear that sinful white coat. Without a shirt on underneath? God, I'm getting hard just thinking about that."

"I think that can be arranged.”

#Monsta X fanfiction #Monsta X scenario #Monsta X imagines #Monsta X #stanmonstax #Monsta X Minhyuk #Monsta X Lee Minhyuk #Hyungwon #Chae Hyungwon #Monsta X Hyungwon #Monsta X Chae Hyungwon #Monsta X Halloween fic exchange #fjkdfklds I HAD FUN WRITING THIS????#It's very dark and gritty and...intense....I hope ahhh

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