#mark x mc fanfic

[dallianceangel]

Join In 🫦🥵

Enjoy 😏

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You’re on the kitchen table, legs spread as Bobby’s head rests between your thighs, him sucking and licking at your clit. The pleasure is intense, and you moan softly.

The door swings open, and Tig walks in, eyes widening at the scene. “What’s going on in here?”

You look up, breathing erratically but managing to smile at him. “Tig, join in.”

Tig grins, stepping closer as he pulls down his pants, watching Bobby shift your position by helping you off the table and bending you over it, kneeling on the floor as he continues to suck and lick at your clit, finger fucking you as well. “No need to ask me twice.”

You gasp as Tig enters you from behind, adding a new layer of pleasure. “Holy fuck.”

The door opens again, and Chibs walks in. He takes in the sight, then approaches. “Room for one more, lass?”

You nod as you eagerly open your mouth, and Chibs enters you.

Your moans become louder, overwhelmed by the sensations from all three men. You were only too happy to oblige, enjoying every moment of this encounter, knowing that life is too short and you’ve just got to do crazy shit once in a while.

From a distance, Clay and Gemma walk out of their dorm room and into the bar area. Clay smirks, nudging Gemma having noticed the scene. “Looks like they’re having quite the time.”

Gemma looks shocked, shaking her head. “Oh, Jesus. I hope they clean up the kitchen afterwards.”

Moments after Clay and Gemma exit the clubhouse, pleasure overwhelms you, and you let out a cry as you squirt, the sensation hitting you hard.

[kay9leo]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

@myokk tagged me and seeing how I needed something to get me back into the writing world again after a hiatus, this seems like a good way to get back in 🤗

So while not a "true" WIP, it's an idea stuck in my head since in my original WIP (written and hidden in my computer files) of where Iñaki Martinez Cariaga (or MC) is used, I have Hogwarts Legacy take place in the late 2000s...but what if Iñaki's Ancient magic takes her back in time...to the year 1890? As a play on the name of a title of a famous Mark Twain book, I present a small snidget of an idea that's been flying circles in my head:

A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890

Iñaki walked around Hogsmeade, trying to reconcile the past with the future wizarding village that she remembered before she was sent back in time over more than a hundred years ago.

Hogsmeade was still Hogsmeade with its quint shops, townhouses and stone ruins nearby its town entrance, but it was also different from how she remembered back in 2008.

For one, the MCC or the Muggleborn Cultural Center hasn't been made yet, a place where all muggleborns would go to get a taste of home away from home (even though it wasn't truly a taste of home for her, with her home being an ocean away in New York). Two, the Shrieking Shack building didn't exist yet and three, there was no Tim Howards Coffee Shops yet - the only American magical coffee shop chain that somehow made it across the pond.

If you think about it, I might be able to run into Tim Howards when he's still a baby in this time period. He doesn't become a famous Quidditch player until the 1920s. Iñaki frowned at that thought.

"So, what do you think? Is Hogsmeade up to your standing Yank?"

Iñaki blinked out of her thoughts and looked over to her right to see a brown haired boy, Sebastian Sallow giving her a confident smile despite the nervous look in his eyes. He was currently giving her the grand tour of the place. To her surprise, Sebastian wasn't the cocky boy he made himself out to be before the duel that he lost in DADA class. The entire walk, Sebastian was friendly, jolly and curious about her homelife back in America, never once meeting a Yankee. Soon that became her nickname when he saw how it made her smile as he asked questions to get to know about her a bit more.

It was hard to be tight lipped about her homeland. Especially as far as he and everyone but Professor Fig knew, she was just another girl from their era and out of her element because she was the new kid in a new country and NOT being stuck in the wrong time period. She had to be careful about what she said, to reveal little about the future as possible like Professor Fig and all those time traveling books and movies taught her before.

While she ran into some more recognizable names - Weasleys were a dime a dozens, Prewett was an extinct family name in her time period with their remaining line married into one of the Weasleys' family branches and Gaunt was the original family name of the founder of Ilvermorny- there were a few she didn't recognized.

Onai was one. So was Sweeting. And then there was Sallow.

Sebastian Sallow was a name that rang a small bell in her head, but she couldn't remember for what reason it was for as she smiled at its owner with a light smile as she pulled up a half lie.

"I think it's cute, like it's from a storybook. It reminds me of another wizarding village I visited in the past at home..." Or was it future? It didn't matter, it's in my past now... Iñaki thought with a small painful smile as she looked over the smaller village in this era.

"You really miss home, don't you Iñaki?" Sebastian said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Iñaki looked up to him with a tight smile, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes.

"Who me?" Iñaki chuckled, waving her hand off playfully as if she could physically fight off the emotional pains that came every time she thought about the new country she found herself in due to her dad's new job, the time period that she didn't belong to or the possible reality she might be stuck here for good and might never see her parents, family, friends or even her neighbor's pet dog ever again.

Heck, she might be in the history books of another country and her loved ones would never know what happened to her.

And if she let one tear escape, the whole dam would break and she wasn't certain if she would survive the floods of her emotional pain since she woke up in 1890 after accidentally tampering with a magical place she thought nothing of. It wasn't like it was a time turner. Just a bunch of standing stones that reminded her of Stonehenge that stood in up in a forest nearby Feldcroft that called to her for some reason when she was flying around, trying to free up her mind from the thoughts of being homesick.

She was really far from home this time around.

"Yes you. You seem to keep your distance from everyone you know? We don't bite." Sebastian smiled at her. "Take it from someone that had to move before, you'll find yourself fitting in sooner than later. Natty practically befriend you -"

True...Iñaki thought.

" -Ominis seems relaxed and happy to be around you since you met him your first night-"

It probably helps that my first thought of his surname that I told him was that one of his ancestors rejected her family's prejudicial pureblood beliefs and founded Ilvermorny and not of his infamous descendent that is Tim Riddler...or what ever his name was.

" -in the Slytherin Common Room-"

I was a Gryffindor in my time period.

"-and I do need a dueling partner in Crossed Wands." Sebastian winked at her. "Yeah." Her voice croaked. That's what it seemed it was good at doing since she moved to London for her Dad's work. "I-" She cleared her throat with a smile. "-I DO like dueling."

Dueling made it easy to forget, to not remember that she was no longer home. That there was no DeLorean or ruby heels she can tap together three times to bring her back to her time period, to her world.

It wasn't until the Troll fight she had with Sebastian that she thought, maybe she didn't need a time traveling car or magical red heels to go home. Not when she felt that same magical force that brought her to this time period flow out of her when she defeated -no vanquished- the troll.

If Ancient Magic brought me back to the past, I'm going to find a way to use it to get back to my own time with no problem. Iñaki thought with a smug smile as she helped repair the town back, unaware of the only flaw in her plan as Sebastian Sallow gathered her for a quick drink at the Three Broomsticks on him.

And never once did she notice the awe in his eyes as he looked at her or the growing heart he wore on his sleeve for her the longer she remained stuck in the past. She would have noticed it if she looked back, but the only flaw in that was this:

Iñaki was too busy looking forward to finally go back home, back to the future where she belonged.

No Pressure Tags: @theladyofshalott1989 @ps-cactus and whoever sees this and is interested in writing as well/needs a small push to return to the writing world 😁

Thank you @myokk for tagging me and helping me to slowly return to the writing world for a bit after the hiatus I took💖🥰💖

[miss-celestia13]

Silence

Sometimes, most times, Jake said more when silence fell between them.

His wandering hands spoke for him, fingers talking in shivering whispers as they trailed across her flushed, pebbled skin. His secret smirk revealed everything he felt for her, love and desire etched into every laughing line, and he heard it echoed back in her matching smile.

The arch of his brow, a slight quirk of his mouth, and the roguish glint in his eye were a lure she could never resist.

He could say much, doing so little. Through tiny tempting touches, and his electric eyes on hers, it was all there. Loud and crystal clear.

Manon was an expert at reading him, and he had her memorized.

He told her he loved her in so many ways that she was fluent in many silent tongues.

He was a safe, soft place for her to fall when her world was aflame, and nothing went her way.

And he was the wildness, the chaos, and dangerous desire when their world was bright and open, beautiful.

If Manon had her way, she’d tell the entire world he was hers and lay claim to him.

It was only fair. He already possessed her body and soul.

Jake didn’t forbid her from doing a damn thing, but he loved to fight her when she went on a martyr rampage. It was incredible how effortlessly he could ease her into a placid mood.

Her fiery, tempestuous nature often ate through her threadbare patience, and he knew how to soothe it. But would never attempt to tame her.

She could only show her love how she fought.

Full of fire, clawing hands, and biting teeth.

Manon wanted to carve a space for herself amongst his bones.

Engrave their initials in the ivory.

Lounge in the deepest, darkest parts of him so she could seek out the lingering shadows within him and comfort them.

—————

I’m writing vows for them and had to write something to get into the mindset. Felt like sharing it ❤️

Violence - Jakes feelings/thoughts toward my MC

[secretlyaraven]

I'm not to blame

Thoughts on how Astarion would feel as your relationship grows with him, each time he peered at your neck and saw the marks he had left.

Read on AO3

866 Words

Gender neutral reader

Not explicit

The same place, each time.

"Less mess", he would claim, why ruin a pretty neck like that with scars. The first time had been a shock, to say the least. That icy pierce into soft, warm flesh, the ebbing numbness, and then the cold reality; bereft of another body close to yours, and the trickling warmth of a fresh wound.

The wound scabbed and healed, barely noticeable to the average person, but Astarion knew; he would always know.

Then came the next time, the same expectation, coldness, numbness, and a fleeting moment of euphoria before being dragged to the depths. He had taken too much that time, much to his chagrin. "A temporary lapse in judgement. It shan't happen again."

True to his word, it doesn't.

Your neck takes longer to heal this time, no matter, nothing some salve can't solve.

You look paler these days, eyes lacking that gleam, Astarion pulled your lower lids down, the absence of colour made him balk. He didn't come to your bedroll that night, nor the night after. Whilst your energy began to return, his started to wane. A misstep here, a narrowly dodged dagger there. Small mistakes, none that could be fatal for him; even if his assailant tried.

There's little fauna to feed on in shadow cursed lands, any that did live... well, they certainly wouldn't survive for long, and as hunger gripped him, Astarion would not risk jeopardising your ragtag group of misfits. He’s survived this long with little sustenance; he can go a little longer again.

You’ve spoiled him.

The thought frustrates him and delights him. Although if you questioned him about it, he’d evade answering. “It’s nice to be able to sample the finer things in life.” Not exactly a bare-faced lie, but certainly not the truth.

It comes as little surprise when his mood sours further and his strikes hold a viciousness not seen before. You argue more, petty squabbles and tense silences. “Why do you care?” He snaps, baring his fangs at you. You fold your arms, unimpressed. You’re not here to fight, to care is not a crime and you make that much obvious.

Gods he hates your gentleness. He’s not worthy of it.

Yet, with patience, you take his hand, bringing it up to your neck, pressing against the pulse point.

“Take what you need and not a drop more.”

Take he does.

Pressing you firmly into your bedroll, ice running through your veins as he takes that which is precious. A hand cradling your head, a mockery of gentleness against the backdrop of violence. Whispered gratitude, a pressure at the wound, something soothing before the world is silent once more.

Things are awkward, neither of you talk about what happened but know you should. Perhaps you notice his gaze linger, perhaps you don’t. He appears happier, more relaxed, more him. When you do talk there’s an expectation of a scolding, yet none comes. Instead, a laugh from you and puzzlement from him.

“I hurt you.” “No more than you have before.”

In hindsight, not the best thing to say. He flinches, he looks past you, not at you, makes an excuse and leaves.

You find him amongst a clearing, blooms of red litter the ground and the trees; like a stubborn bloodstain. It is silent, save for the gentle wind that rustles the leaves and tussles your hair. A moment of solace, an alcove of safety from death whispering shadows. Astarion does not acknowledge you when you approach, his focus on the moon above; his only companion for the past two centuries. You gaze upon the silvery moon and her soft glow, gentle coolness washes over you; she too has been your companion, on sleepless nights, in desolate places – a reminder that come what may, you are never alone. Perhaps one day she will welcome you both into eternity.

“Your tongue is sharp, and your disposition questionable.” “And you’re obstinate and reckless, but you didn’t come here to insult me.” “I came to apologise.” A scoff, he turns to you, eyes scrutinising, brows furrowed, he’s drawn like a bowstring. Your voice remains calm, open, your palms are unconsciously up as if trying to show him you mean no harm. “Your words are occasionally cruel, but it was not your words I meant.”

An understanding. And if you see his gaze soften, see the small twitch of a smile on his lips, you don’t mention it.

Routine begins once again, the odd bloodless night here, a dull ache there. Despite the minor inconvenience it brings, you do not mind. Astarion appears happier for it, his humour returning and his bloodlust in battle controlled. The holes in your neck are taking longer to heal now, scarcely closing before the next time they’re torn open. It does not escape Astarion’s notice.

Under the gaze of the moon, you find yourself nestled next to him. He did not feed from you, but welcomed your company, fingers ghosting over your pulse, pausing when they feel two distinct ridges. He inhales sharply, retracting back only to lightly press over his own scars.

He’s marked you.

Just like he was marked.

But unlike him, you’re free.

[miss-celestia13]

Thought this would be fun 🥰

It was the moment the walls come tumbling down and Manon lets Jake inside her Kintsugi heart.

Her blood soaked past, hurt, fluff and comfort. Baring the scars that still lingered. Trusting he would keep the shards of her safe and not try to fix her. The confessions. Sealing their newfound bond with frantic, desperate smut ��� everything else I wrote was to get to that moment.

The romance is a fast, wildfire burn, while the plot is very much a slow, smouldering burn. The day I got to that scene was one of the happiest days of my life. Still adore that chapter!

I feel like every writer has created whole stories before around just that one specific scene that they thought of and really wanted to write. Sometimes I wonder what those scenes were for my favourite stories.

[ghostieyanyan]

yandere ruggie bucchi!

pls

hehe~~ i love writing about yandere beasts~ hehe~ this is a little shorter than some of my fanfics but I hope you like the art for it! (I’m proud of it ^^)

~The Bite~

Yan!Ruggie x mc

Warnings: yandere, bite marks, biting, stalking, chasing, pin down, struggle

~~~~~

You always have to remember... you are human and magicless at that. You always have to stay aware of your surroundings. You always have to be careful with going out at night.

Of course you have grim, ace, and deuce. but they like to get themselves into trouble and sometimes you cant help them.

So tonight, you were walking home... alone. you didn't mean to, it was just you were helping Jack and Epel, then Dire Crowley needed help, and it just piled up for you. Before you knew it, when you finished, it was pitch dark outside. Only well lit lanterns here and there but still. It was dark enough for the long unnerving shadows to give you chills.

You took a breathe and started to head to the dorm... normally you'll have grim talking your ear off with food, or assignments, or the "just you wait, ill become the most powerful mage in all of twisted wonderland!!" speech.. but now you have to walk and just listen to your footsteps on the ground.

Beside it being cold, it was a lovely night. the sky was clear and you could see the stars and moon nicely. it definitely help ease your nerves.

Sadly that didn't last long..- you walked past some forest, right before your dorm, and you heard some rustling. you would have just thought it was just a small critter... if it didn't make a loud thud and have a gargling growl.

you felt your blood run cold and shivers down your spine. practically every fiber in your body told you to run! you were about to- but you then remember something that rook said a while back...

"Some animals, when they see something go by fast, their instincts tell them to chase it! even before they know what they're chasing~! isn't that fascinating~?"

In this moment, NO, its not fascinating!!!

so instead of doing a full sprint, you went for a speed walk? maybe whatever that thing is, it'll leave you alone?

Ohhh hahaha... your hopeful thinking. Ya, no. whatever that THING was, stopped whatever it was doing and you could practically feel it's eyes piercing right through you.

You could barely get another step in before you heard it rush towards you. your auto-pilot kicked in and you booked it home, you didn't even dare yourself to turn around and look behind you. you ran like you never ran before. your feet ached by how much pressure your putting on the ground. next time, Deuce and Jack invites you out for a jog. maybe you'll tag along next time... that is if you live.

you made it to your dorm and slammed the door behind you. your chest was practically about to pound out of your chest. it felt like you were gasping for air through a straw. you were sitting against the front door on the doormat. you had to give yourself a few minutes before you could do anything.

what were you gonna do..?

when you finally got enough air to calm your heart rate a bit. you peeked outside... all you saw were the lights of the lanterns by your dorm...

no one was there...

you quickly ran to find any unlock doors and windows and quickly lock them! you also grabbed the phone that Cater gave you and called Jack and Epel. it took a bit and they weren't happy to be woken up but after hearing your shaken voice and begged to come to the ramshackle dorm, their angry turned to concern.

they told you they're on the way and told you to sit tight.

so you waited.

what were your suppose to do as you wait..? you could recheck the windows and door? you could also get a weapon, too! ya!

you rushed to the kitchen to grab a pan, and checked all the doors and windows again. you even checked the upstairs windows. you were in a magical world, you are not gonna stop and think about logic on how anyone will get to the top floor!

Good thing you did check though... Well unfortunately, your bedroom window was wide open.

you felt the cold wind blow through the window, you held the pan close to you as you slowly stepped away from the window. but your back hit something.. it was definitely not a wall! this thing wrapped it's arms around you and pushed you down on the ground. you tried to fight this intruder off but it was met with your limps being pinned and your pan being thrown across the room.

you couldn't turn and look at this person but you knew they weren't human. their sharp nails dug into your wrist. their knees on the back of your thighs so you are unable to move.

This monster, lowered themselves to you and spoke.

"Shye he he...~ you're such good prey~"

he probably felt your body freeze in realization but he didn't give you a second to think about it as he took his chance and sink his teeth on the back of your neck.

you let out a painful scream until your voice eventually gave out and you've succumb to the pain. you felt light headed and your vision began to blur. your limps became cold from poor blood circulation.

but before you fell into unconsciousness you heard Ruggie whispers his parting words...

"see you next time, prefect~"

~~~

when you woke up, you were in your bed. you slowly sat up and felt the unpleasant feeling of blood rushing in your head. you noticed the sunlight shining through your room and that the window is now closed.

you thought to yourself. that was a horrible dream...

but if it WAS just a horrible dream..? why is Jack and Epel sleeping on the floor in your room..?

and why is your neck patched up....

~

~

Without text

~

[hiael]

Obey Me! Headcanons that the voices in my head created

The pact marks don't affect the MC in general, but when they are used, the color of the user's eyes tends to change to the color of sin (when Solomon sees the color of his eyes changing to the colors of his brothers, geez, jealousy boy), it happens more often than you think and in addition to the marks on the body, it's a reminder to everyone that you're connected with the lords of hell.

Human beings can speak very quickly and neither demons nor angels can keep up when this happens. Scientifically, we talk fast because of anxiety, nervousness, excitement or the communication conditions that the environment provides. Solomon and MC talking about something they thought was cool during the tea? For the others it becomes a RAP battle and all they can hear is "hum, nah, ha, hehe", the rest is indecipherable. More than once, during a presentation or debate in class, MC was told to shut the fuck up or slow down so that everyone could understand.

All material related to the history of the human world is more or less 100 to 200 years out of date in the library. Satan is slowly trying to update this, but they think that 200 years is almost nothing for humans to change, so unlike technology (which they think they created with magic) they just don't care. A new iPhone ok, now the human being landed on the moon during a bloodless war? Their lie, do you still believe what mortals say?

Humans sleep more than angels and demons, but even less than demons from the circle of laziness. MC, Solomon and Belphie (and sometimes Luke) usually sleep in some places at RAD during and between classes.

All exchange students have their own fan club. Luke's must be the quietest, everyone friendly and kind so as not to disappoint the little angel. Did you see him walking past you today, sad that he hadn't managed to buy a keyring at the RAD art fair? Bitch surprise, his fan club are still demons, the keyring will mysteriously appear on his desk in the classroom written "To Luke, a little big ray of sunshine in our lives" and the person who bought it has left the RAD, anyone know why?

Still on the subject of fan clubs, we're not talking about Solomon's. If the number of demons he has a pact with isn't enough of a warning, there are others walking around in capes and blouses as if they were cosplayers and sending letters to his house with phrases like 'roses are red, violets are blue, can we make a pact? Signed: Demon X' should be a better warning

And to end the fan clubs, MC's are trained in the art of being meticulous, a silent army that lives in the shadows - meaning they are in the devildom version of twitter. Lots of photos taken on the sly, fanart of all kinds, fanfics, merchandise and videos edits of (and when were they sheep? There are millions and millions of images circulating out there). Ever wondered why Miss Em sold so much? The MC fandom. They won't compete with anyone for their attention, the sweet human is simply appreciated the way they are (and they don't want to be on the brothers' list to "get away from the MC"). The Human Appreciation Club was not approved by the student council and they removed their devilpedia page, but that didn't erase these demons desire to idolize MCs. Live, love and laugh for MC, the way simps are.

At some point, the Real or Cake trend went crazy until Luke, who started making desserts that looked like everyday things, only stopped after surprising Simeon by cutting a cell phone-shaped cake (Simeon tried to break his with his hand after that, thinking it was cake. He spent 3 weeks without a phone)

Every time MC returns from a trip to the human world, they have to bring a suitcase just with souvenirs from there. Luckily, it can be anything they find fun, like a frog-shaped coaster, a jar of M&Ms with a pinwheel on top, a whole corn cake, a tie with a motivational quote, a children's book, or a coin of a specific year. Everyone just loves the fact that MC was thinking of them and they love using the gift they received. Barbatos's favorite tea set is now a completely transparent one with gold floral details.

Children's cartoons from 1940 still show on Devildom TV and Beel watches while eating or working out.

Lucifer has a family photo inside his wallet, Mammon once tried to steal his credit card, he was so shocked that he ended up screaming, he was caught and punish. Neither of them mention the photo.

[sweatinghoneybee]

FINALLY FINISHED THIS!!! oh my primus why did this took so long?!! Seriously my ibispaint timer is at 140 minutes and that’s at the fast forward speed?!! UGHHH!!! CURSE MY PERFECTIONIST EYE CATCHING EVERY SINGLE IMPERFECTION!!!

ok now time to ramble after letting out that steam! So this one i drew as a continuation for the first one i made of MC where she’s in the air floating while scheming her rebellious plans in blue and pink background, cause hey i think that there’s no way that girly gonna just stand around in her prison cell to rust when she has her shadow sister to help her break out, so YUP this is the art i drew for that thought process!

I don’t know if the pose made it obvious but they’re posing the Barbie and Ken jail photo pose, MC as Barbie and Nebula as Ken,

tho i made them both smirking and being mischievous vixens cause hey when you don’t like the functionist government then you go out there to piss the ever loving pits out of them! (And cause i just wanna have an excuse to draw them with that pose) And i must say i love how i drew out how very smug MC is with the paint splatters that i gave her in the fanart i drew before, and Nebula being a proud older sister at seeing her dear sister breaking the rules! My thoughts on how they break out of prison is Nebula using her powers to destroy the systems that’s working the whole facility (the reason why the red force field bars shattered) and MC throwing paint bombs everywhere just to spite the pits out of the guards (which is why there are paints covering the walls). And the reason why i chose the colors red yellow and blue primarily in the drawing is cause i want it as a representation of how the whole situation is, red and yellow the colors that are associated with danger is either surrounding (the red force field) covering (the holograms of them with their data) or saying to “others” to keep away (the police tapes) but there’s blue coloring or lighting either surrounding or are outside of the red signifying that the reds and yellows are what the government are presenting them as (dangers) when in actually they are blue (kind or justice).

Also easter eggs from me from the chapter of MC’s database, with MC’s hologram data saying warning and her file having a danger symbol along with her datapad having 0.077 being marked over with the word MC cause she doesn’t like how the government experimented on her. And Nebula’s hologram data and database is just an error and redacted. I just wanted to add those things cause those are fun to add in!

Also a fun tidbit from me, if someone is asking what the words on the force field are saying, i used alphabets in transformers that i found in the wiki for it to spell out MC and Nebula’s personal message to the government when they’re investigating their jail cells.

And it spells,

“F R A G Y O U”

X - X - X - X - X

If someone is wondering what i’m drawing above, it’s from a fanfic that my friend @springingsour made in Quotev, here’s the link

Please give them some love kay? They worked really hard to make their stories so give them some those good supportive motivations kay? And check out some of their other stuff to! They’re all real good! (Also Spring my friend i’m so sorry it tooked this long, my perfectionist side got the better of me. . .)

[koqabear]

Wanna Play A Game?

⊹ playlist ⊹

“You’ve always been a bit skeptical of Beomgyu’s friend group. But for him, you pushed it aside, opting to give in to his pleas as you find yourself in Soobin’s vacation home during spring break. Only, it seems that things are only going downhill.”

??? x fem! reader 

Also featuring: Soobin, Ryujin and Yeji from Itzy, Wooyoung from Ateez

Genre: slasher, thriller, mystery, angst, smut, mystery member(s) oooh 

Word count: 13K

Warnings: Use of substances (weed and alcohol), everyone’s kinda an asshole, arguing, vomiting, blood, wounds, biting, weapons, death and murder (duh), kidnapping, blindfolding, handcuffing, pet names (angel, cutie, good girl, etc.), manipulation, threats, gaslighting, please don’t question how everything works. (Or do, I might’ve made a timeline already.) let me know if I missed anything!

Smut warnings: dubcon. Mean Dom(s)! ???, sub!mc manhandling, praise, degrading, mind breaking(?), sensory deprivation, handcuffing, biting, marking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, unprotected sex, choking, creampie

Notes: fanfic author watches scream vi and gets inspired by a single scene (shocking) (also the playlist is a bit weird and messy so watch out for that)

Three characters, your only hint. Who could it be? One, two… maybe three? 

[Dark themes ahead, read at your own discretion. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume, nor do I condone any themes discussed. This story does not reflect the idol’s true character or morals, and are merely used as characters in fiction.]

“Guys, come on, don’t be fucking stupid.” 

The fire is warm against your hands as you swat away the mischievous ones of your friends, the group laughing and poking fun at you as they lean in; dangerously close, playing with fire as though to taunt you. 

The lights in the kitchen turn on as the shadow of another of your friends roams around inside, a few of you turning to look in curiosity before you’re back to chatting in your circle. The puffer jacket that's been zipped all the way up seems to be doing nothing for you as you find yourself sinking into your seat even more, hands deep in your pockets as you nuzzle your numb nose into your jacket. 

“You sure you don’t want some?” Yeonjun is close and quiet as he speaks to you, his voice no louder than a murmur as he nods to the blunt that’s been passed back to him. Shaking your head, you shiver as a particularly harsh wind passes through the group. 

“No thanks. Too cold for this shit,” you say, gesturing to the way you’re practically ready to curl into your seat. Yeonjun simply huffs out a laugh at your antics, nodding his head softly before he brings the blunt to his lips. 

“Could always shotgun it,” he teases, ignoring the way you scoff as he takes in a deep breath; his hands are red and stiff, and he looks back at you as he sends you a wink— smoke blows in your face as you sputter, shoving him away as the two of you burst out laughing. 

“Asshole,” you mutter, scrunching your nose as Yeonjun passes the blunt to the other person beside you; Ryujin takes it happily, slumping back into her chair as she shakes her head in amusement at your antics. 

“Think I’m gonna go inside, it’s freezing out here,” you say, groaning softly as you go to stand up— your legs feel stiff, a strong shiver coursing through you as you shrug off everyone’s pleas for you to stay out for a bit more. Shaking your head, you bid them goodbye as you go back inside; the glow of the fire slowly disappears as you’re left in the dark for a second, trudging through the grass and making your way tiredly to the back porch.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to get up the stairs— but it’s so damn cold that you feel as though your legs might snap off, and the hot tub that greets you as you finally make your way to the back entrance is quite the funny sight; maybe if the weather would’ve been nicer, you would’ve found yourself in there instead. 

There’s a whole week to let the weather get better, you think, finally letting your hand out of your pocket as you open the glass door. The heat that greets you is instant, and you let out a sigh of relief as you stumble inside, stepping onto the kitchen tiles as you lock eyes with Taehyun, Beomgyu looking up curiously from his seat at the counter. 

“Are they coming back in?” Taehyun asks, leaning back against the counter as he takes another sip of his drink— soda, you note surprisingly, despite the grandiose liquor cabinet that Soobin showed everyone earlier being just a few steps away from him. 

“No, I was just the first one to cave in,” you say, going around to take a seat next to Beomgyu, “what’re you guys doing in here all alone?”

“Same reason as you,” Beomgyu says, tilting his head as he drums his fingers against the counter, “it’s too cold out there.” 

You hum softly at his response; checking your phone, you sigh, placing it face down as you lean into the palm of your hand dejectedly. 

“What, can’t handle not being able to use your phone for a day?” Beomgyu laughs, taking in your expression as you pout softly, “the cell towers should be back up tomorrow, don’t worry.” 

“This area always has some of the most unpredictable weather,” Taehyun grumbles, speaking for the first time in a while as your eyes jump up to meet his, “I dunno why they picked this place for spring break.”

“Cause it’s perfect, that’s why,” Beomgyu answers before you can get a word in, nodding your head in agreement as he begins to recite Soobin’s words, “no neighbors, no cops to crash the party, just us here.” 

“Half of them are at risk for alcohol poisoning every time they get access to it,” Taehyun says, jutting his head at the group that rambunctiously moves about, seemingly laughing at something funny as they fail to settle down for even a second, “It’s a bad idea to be doing all this while not having any way to contact emergencies.”

“Come on dude, loosen up for once,” Beomgyu tuts, rolling his eyes at the younger’s behavior as he turns to you with a sly look on his face, “Don’t know why I even invited him.”

“Shut up,” Taehyun barks, clenching his jaw as he goes to take another sip of his soda; his eyes lock with yours, and you can’t help but gulp as you take in how annoyed they are. 

Beomgyu seems to ignore any signs of irritation from the man before him, turning to you eagerly instead as he sends you a bright smile, long hair falling in his eyes as he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way.

“Hey, wanna go watch a movie or something? I hear Soobin’s got a sick collection of slasher movies,”  Beomgyu offers, completely disregarding Taehyun, who simply watches the way he takes your hand, leading you out to the living room before you can say so much as a goodbye. 

You’re a bit confused at Beomgyu’s behavior, but you decide against pointing it out as he lightheartedly pushes you onto the couch;  you fall with a small grunt unceremoniously, leaning back into the cushions as you turn to watch Beomgyu scan through the shelf of movies; your fingers go to play with the zipper of your jacket, absentmindedly tugging at it before you finally take it off. 

“Have you watched Scream?” Beomgyu calls out to you, glancing back at you briefly as you huff a small laugh at his question.

“Duh, who hasn’t?” You reply, turning away from him as the screen door in the backyard is opened roughly; Soobin is stumbling in, Ryujin and the others following behind as they all complain about how it suddenly began to rain. 

“What’re we watching?” Soobin asks, taking a seat next to you as the rest crowd around; Yeji and Ryujin settle down next to you, Yeonjun sitting beside them as he quietly mutters something along the lines of “this is a big ass couch.” He’s quick to signal Wooyoung to sit next to him, leaning back into the corner of the deep U-shaped couch as he puts his feet up on the coffee table, despite Soobin’s protests. 

“Scream,” Taehyun says, settling on the floor as he rests his head back on the cushions. Everyone’s chatters and comments about the movie are drowned in your ears as you watch him sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as a yawn rips through him; Beomgyu is trotting over before you can dwell on his condition any further, fumbling with the old DVD player on Soobin’s console station as he diligently tries to follow Soobin’s irritated commands. 

“Holy fuck, lemme do it,” Soobin stands, pushing Beomgyu out of the way as he sets the movie up himself; the younger male looks like a kicked puppy as he saunters back to the couch, taking Soobin’s seat as he rests a head on your shoulder.

“He’s so mean,” he pouts, crossing his arms as you shake your head in amusement. 

“There there, don’t cry,” you mumble half-heartedly, patting his head as Soobin’s giant flat screen tv finally lights up— everyone haphazardly cheers at the sight, and you watch as Yeonjun quickly sneaks off towards the liquor cabinet, grabbing as many bottles as he can before they’re clinking down on the table roughly. 

“I’ve seen this movie too many times and the weed is already wearing off,” Yeonjun says, not bothering to grab any shot cups as he opens a bottle of vodka; there’s a mixed reaction in your group as you watch him waterfall it as though it were water, clearly putting on a show as Wooyoung shoves him playfully; he’s choking and spluttering from the action, slamming the bottle back down hurriedly as everyone laughs as though they were entertained. 

Sitting up, you go to help Yeonjun who seems to be struggling to regain his composure, only to get pulled back by Beomgyu as he sends you a small smile. 

“Don’t. He’ll be fine,” Beomgyu grins, watching as Wooyoung takes a turn to down a good couple of gulps— Yeonjun’s coughs have seized to nothing but an occasional clear of his throat, the back of his hand wiping at his chin as he stares down at his shirt in dismay; he reeks of alcohol, clearly annoyed as he sends Wooyoung a glare. Beomgyu only tugs you back down into the couch, ignoring the way you shift restlessly at the sight of Yeji and Ryujin recording the whole thing. 

“Plus, you wouldn’t wanna ruin their shot, right?” He whispers, laughing softly as Yeonjun pushes Wooyoung in return— the vodka spills directly down his shirt, yelling in surprise as the liquid runs down his skin uncomfortably— you feel yourself tensing at the way they seem to be getting worked up, sitting up as they begin to argue loudly. 

“Jesus, cut it out! Quit acting like fucking children! Go get some towels, they’re in the kitchen,” Soobin is quick to separate the two, pushing Wooyoung off the couch and signaling to the kitchen as he takes his spot, “and turn the light off on your way back.”

Yeji and Ryujin only laugh amongst themselves as Yeji puts her phone away, the sound of Ryujin whispering a soft “send that to me,” Barely reaching your ears before everyone’s settling back down, the tension simmering away as the lights in the kitchen finally turn off; Wooyoung is making his way back with a couple of paper towels for Yeonjun, taking a seat on the floor as the house is shrouded in complete darkness— the only thing giving off light now being the giant television before you. 

You’ve seen this movie hundreds of times before; you know all the tropes, remembering every scene as you quickly find your mind wandering off— before you know it, you find yourself reaching for the bottle of vodka, too. 

Maybe Yeonjun was onto something; you all seem much more relaxed and giggly as you yell at the screen, making comments and cracking jokes even in the face of countless scenes of gore. It’s a lot more fun this way, and before you know it, you find yourself much more interested in the movie than you were before. 

“Holy shit, Soobin, where’s your bathroom,” Yeji groans, and you all tear your eyes away from the screen to find her doubled over, eyes shut as she clearly seems to be getting sick; Ryujin is quick to pull her up, pushing her along the way to the nearest bathroom in the maze of hallways— you’re surprised to find everyone unbothered as the sounds of Yeji’s pain filter over the noise. 

It’s strange— you don’t typically find yourself around this group of people; you weren’t as close to them as one might think, your only strong connection with them all being Taehyun and the man who currently rested his head on your shoulder— he had countlessly reassured you that it would be fun, that staying at Soobin’s place would be a good way to spend a bit of your spring break; at first, you found yourself agreeing, but now you can’t help but seem unnerved at the way these people act around each other.

“Jesus, turn the volume up,” Yeonjun says, the boys around you laughing amongst themselves as a particularly loud sound from Yeji breaches through the movie; you find yourself antsy and clammy, meeting eyes with Taehyun, who seems as equally bothered as you are. 

“I’m gonna go check on them,” you mutter quietly, pulling Beomgyu off you despite his reassurances that they’re completely fine; you can’t help but be unnerved at how calm they are about the situation, watching as your friend sinks back into the couch immediately, sending you a petulant pout that has you frowning. 

Soobin’s house is hard to navigate without any source of light— pressing your lips together, you jump at the loud crack of thunder that manages to boom over the movie; the only thing you’re able to see is a small sliver of light that leaks through the bathroom door, the sinking feeling in your stomach only getting worse as the sound of crying reaches your ears. 

“Yeji— Yeji, come on, sit up,” Ryujin says hurriedly, her voice stern yet shaky as you hear incoherent mumbling— it’s Yeji, you realize.

Hesitantly, you knock on the door; when you get no response, you turn the knob, peeking inside as you find Yeji leaning over the toilet bowl, her shoulders shaking as you find the source of the crying— yet Ryujin doesn’t seem to be doing any better, her breaths shaky as she stands over her friend, unsure of what to do as her head quickly snaps up at the sight of the door opening. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” 

“I don’t— no, obviously not,” Ryujin snaps, stressed out as she runs a hand through her hair. Looking past you, you watch her expression quickly sour, the heightened sounds of screams from the movie reaching her as she scoffs in disbelief.

“Did those assholes turn the fucking volume up?” She’s standing up as Yeji begins to vomit once more, and you’re unable to control the way you wince as Ryujin holds her hair back. She’s trying her best to comfort her friend as she rubs her back soothingly, but the sudden boom from the movie makes her stand up hurriedly, pushing past you as she quickly mumbles for you to look after her— you’re scrambling to get to Yeji’s side, surprised to find her shaky and crying as you pull her hair away from her face, flushing the toilet as you pull her back for a moment. 

“Are you guys seriously gonna act like this when we clearly need help?” Ryujin’s voice easily booms over the movie as she yells at the boys that still lounge on the couch, the incoherent sounds of arguing mixing together with the movie as you let out a shaky sigh. 

“Don’t be such a bitch, she probably just greened out,” Soobin’s voice travels down the hall, and the heavy sounds of footsteps reach your ears as you hesitantly look up.

“You know she can barely handle her stuff, why’d you let her drink?” Soobin scoffs, his hair a mess as he runs his hand through his hair in annoyance— Wooyoung peeks over Soobin’s shoulder, making eye contact with you as he lets out a low whistle at the sight. 

“Now’s not the time to be pointing fingers, she’s clearly sick dickhead!” Ryujin yells, overprotective of her friend as she shoves Soobin back— you flinch at the sight, unsure of what to do as the tensions in the room seem to rise. 

“What’re we supposed to do? It’s storming outside, the roads aren’t safe to drive on,” Soobin’s reasoning falls on deaf ears as Ryujin retorts with an angry I don’t give a fuck, clearly worried over her friend who looks concerningly pale. 

“So what? You wanna go out and crash the fucking car? Kill both of you at this point?” Soobin is flushed as the alcohol seems to be impairing his reasoning, Wooyoung and Yeonjun beginning to intervene as they pull the two away from each other. 

“Guys, we won’t get anywhere if we keep arguing like this,” Yeonjun reasons, a bit tipsy as he places a firm hand on Soobin’s chest, “go look to see if you have any medicine or something, there might be something that can help her out in the meantime.”

“Don’t know why the fuck you’re blaming us when you let her get like that,” Soobin scoffs as he turns around, rolling his eyes at the way Ryujin bristles at his comment, face flushed and angry as she attempts to push past Wooyoung. 

“What the fuck did you say?! Get back here you prick!” Your mouth feels dry as Ryujin seems to have been set off, Wooyoung beginning to push her back into another room in an attempt to calm her down— beside you, Yeji lets out a shaky breath.

“I don’t— we’re not always like this,” Yeonjun says, drawing your attention as he takes in the way you seem to be like a frightened rabbit. He lets out a deep sigh, leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms, still a bit drunk as he looks at Yeji diligently, “I don’t know what the hell is happening right now. I guess things are still tense between us.” 

Shakily, you nod your head, choosing not to question things as the word still lingers in your head. You’re stuck staring at the floor as you attempt to rub Yeji’s back soothingly, mimicking Ryujin’s movements as she coughs softly— in the distance, you’re able to hear her shouts, clearly in a drunken fit as Wooyoung remains in the room, attempting to de-escalate the situation; you flinch at the sound of things smashing and shattering. Eventually, she settles down.

The house has gone silent, save for the movie that still drones on in the background, the volume significantly lowered— it’s a bit eerie as Yeonjun continues to watch over you like a hawk, your thoughts begin to run wildly; biting at your lip, you finally break, clearing your throat as you gather the courage to meet Yeonjun’s eyes.

“You said things are still tense between you,” you start, watching the way he seems unprepared for your question, “what do you mean by that?” 

He says nothing; it leaves you wondering if he’ll actually respond, shuffling uncomfortably in place as he refuses to meet your eyes. An unnerving pause ensues as you begin to wonder why Soobin is taking so long.

“It’s just,” his eyes dart to the floor, dejected as his brows scrunch together in a frown, “we recently lost a friend.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you feel awkward as you find yourself only being able to respond like that, casting your gaze away from him as you notice the way Yeji has been looking wearily at you this whole time— you feel like you’ve done something wrong, suddenly scrutinized under their eyes as you brush back a strand of Yeji’s hair that has fallen over her shoulder.  

“Here, this is all I could find,” Soobin suddenly appears, shaking a bottle of pills as his eyes land on Yeji— she’s shaking now, another wave of nausea taking over as she bows her head in defeat, letting out a soft groan as nothing comes out— Soobin slowly approaches her, kneeling before the two of you as he looks her condition over. 

“Holy shit Yeji, what the fuck did you do?” He clearly doesn’t expect an answer as he slowly helps her up; it doesn’t seem like she’s able to expel anything from her stomach anymore, clearly dehydrated as she slumps against Soobin like a rag doll. 

“Here, I’ll take you to Ryujin, even though she’s probably still pissed at me—“ the thunder that interrupts him mid-sentence booms throughout the house, startling all of you as the sound is a lot closer than you’d like. The lights over you flicker, the three of you staring at the ceiling in confusion before the room becomes pitch black. 

“What the…” Yeonjun seems to have sobered up a bit as he stands up straight, the house going completely silent as everything powers off— you’re all tense, even Yeji beginning to worry as she stirs against Soobin. 

“Taehyun!” 

The sound is enough to have you acting without a second thought; you’re pushing past the two men carelessly at the sound of your friend’s distressed scream, the sound making you sick to the core as you run back to the living room where they were last at. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you say, hands trembling uncontrollably as you stare at the scene before you, running to Taehyun’s side as your knees knock into the kitchen tiles roughly. 

“Holy shit, who did this? What happened?” Taehyun grunts in pain as he holds his bicep, fingers clenched tightly around the muscle as he grits his teeth together; the screen door is wide open, and both Taehyun and Beomgyu are drenched their clothes drip a puddle around them, your pants beginning to get wet as well as you stay at their side.

But that’s the least of your worries right now— instead, you focus on your friend, who’s leaning against Beomgyu and groaning in pain as blood seeps through the cracks of his fingers. 

“Fuck, I go to sleep for a few fucking minutes and this shit happens—“ Beomgyu’s rambling is incoherent as Taehyun lets out a low groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a shaky sigh. Hurriedly, you cup his face, tapping his cheek gently as you urge him to look at you. 

“Taehyun, what happened?” You ask, unsure of what to do as you stand in a foreign home, searching for something to help him with— in the end, you simply opt to call Soobin’s name out desperately, turning back to Taehyun as you look around the house wearily. 

“I don’t know,” he laughs weakly, an exasperated sigh leaving him as he rests his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “I thought I saw an animal or something on the porch, so I went to check it out— next thing I know, the door is forced open and I get fucking stabbed.” 

You and Beomgyu freeze. Immediately, you look up at each other, your lips parting in shock as Soobin suddenly appears behind you. 

“What the hell? What the fuck happened—“ 

“Soobin, we need to leave,” you say, standing up as you ignore all of Soobin’s questions, “We need to leave! Do you have something to patch Taehyun up with? We need to take it with us.”

“What? What are you talking about, what the hell is going on—?” Soobin is quick to shut up with another stern look from you, the moonlight the only thing that highlights your features as Soobin gives you a shaky nod, deciding to trust your judgment as he takes a quick look around the kitchen, scanning the cabinets before he lets out a shaky breath. 

“It’s all in my bathroom upstairs,” he says, glancing back at the three of you as he gulps, “I’ll be quick, stay here,” he gives you all a pointed look before he’s going upstairs, the sound of the rain coming down hard onto the roof the only thing that fills the silence.

“Go with him,” Beomgyu says shakily, ignoring the way you look at him in disbelief, “It doesn’t feel right to let him go by himself. Go, he’ll be safe.”

“Beomgyu, I don’t even know where the fuck the front door is,” you admit, your adrenaline high as you wrap an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders before you’re pulling him onto you, “if anything, it’ll be better if you go.” 

Beomgyu hesitates— he stares at you, taking in your determined state before he glances at Taehyun, lightheaded as the blood soaks his thin shirt— and nods, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he’s spriting up to where Soobin is. 

“Let’s get you away from the kitchen,” you mumble, helping Taehyun stand up as the wind and rain that sneaks into the kitchen makes you two shiver violently. He nods softly, stumbling to his feet as he follows you to the couch; you’re making a mess of it, but that should be the least of your worries as Taehyun slumps against you wearily.

Closing your eyes, you let out a shaky sigh; you’re scared, the thought of there being an intruder somewhere around the area, dangerous and armed  making chills run through your skin as you hold on tighter to Taehyun, attempting to calm your racing heartbeat; the man only lets out a shaky breath, head tucked into your chest safely as he attempts to steady his breathing. 

This is insane, you think, taking a deep breath through your nose as you take in the situation— to think that the man you’ve longed for is finally leaning on you, tucked into you so safely— if you weren’t scared half to death right now due to the possibility of there being a killer on the loose, you almost would’ve found yourself becoming flustered. 

Behind you, you hear the quiet voice of Yeonjun; he’s still taking care of Yeji who, judging by the fact that she hasn’t emerged from the bathroom at all, must still be feeling sick. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you find yourself saying, surprising the two of you as you feel a tear slip down your cheek— you’re quick to wipe it away, attempting to regain your composure before Taehyun can realize what’s going on. 

“Here, this is all I could find in my bathroom,” Soobin yells, loud footsteps drawing your attention as Beomgyu follows close behind. You’re quick to sit up as Beomgyu runs over to you with alcohol and gauze, an apologetic look in his eyes as he takes in Taehyun’s state. 

“I’ll go turn on the car, get the others and we’ll leave right now,” Soobin yells, running to the coat holder as he fishes into his jacket pockets; he doesn’t bother putting on the item, running out into the rain instead as the door is left wide open, the three of you able to keep an eye on him as he runs down the long driveway. 

“I’ll get the others, stay here,” you’re quick to say, noticing the way Beomgyu was already beginning to tend to your friend. Behind you, you hear loud protests, the sounds of him telling you to wait falling on deaf ears as you’re fumbling for your phone, turning the flashlight on as you peek into the bathroom. 

“I don’t know if you were able to hear everything, but we’re leaving. Get Yeji and go to the car, now,” you say, giving Yeonjun a firm look before you’re making your next stop. You can hear Yeonjun attempting to call after you before he gives up, talking to Yeji softly as he’s hoisting her up on his back; meanwhile, you’re searching through every door you come across in hopes of finding the room Ryujin and Wooyoung are currently in. 

Empty. Empty. Empty. You find yourself becoming frustrated by Soobin’s insane mansion— uselessly, you looked through every room in the hallway before being left at the very last one. 

“Guys, we need to leave, come on—“ the noise you make is strange and strangled as your phone’s flashlight pans across the room, an intense chill racking through your entire body as you find yourself choking back on bile. 

Ryujin and Wooyoung are dead.

The phone in your hands almost slips out from how shaky you are, a broken sob leaving you before you find yourself screaming in horror— you’re not sure what’s happening after that, but you feel a firm pair of hands on your shoulders yanking you out of the door and shutting the door firmly before your face. 

But, oh god, you can’t get the image out of your head; no matter how tightly Beomgyu holds you against him, it won’t erase the way your eyes met Ryujin’s blank ones, her face filled with horror and her throat slit as blood dripped down her shirt like a necklace— beside her, the sight of Wooyoung thrown across the bed with multiple wounds to the chest haunted you, unable to ignore the furniture strung across the floor and the bruises all over their bodies. 

That hadn’t been a drunken fit earlier.

“Shit, oh shit,” Beomgyu mumbles against the crown of your head, having gotten a peek of the sight as he urges you to stand; but your legs are nothing more than jello as you attempt to stumble along, trying your best to get your shit together as you meet the others in the living room. 

“What? What’s wrong? Where’s Ryujin and Wooyoung?” Yeonjun asks, panicked eyes searching behind the two of you in hopes of seeing his friends again; instead, he’s greeted with the sight of you, sputtering apologies as you choke on sobs. 

“They’re— fuck I’m so sorry—“ 

That’s all it takes for Yeonjun’s eyes to widen, leaving Yeji on the couch before he’s running back to the room where they lie; only for Beomgyu to grab him roughly, stumbling back as you’re left to grab onto the couch in an attempt to regain your composure. 

“We need to go, we need to get to safety,” Beomgyu says, attempting to calm Yeonjun down as the man before him begins to break down into rough sobs, Yeji doing no better than him as she puts her head in her hands.

“No, no! We’re not fucking leaving them! I’m not fucking leaving them behind, I can’t,” Yeonjun’s sobs become unintelligible as Beomgyu holds him close, a sudden wind blowing through the door and making a shiver run through your body as you turn to look outside.

You almost collapse at the sight of a man quickly making his way towards you; but it’s just Soobin, hair soaked and flattened as he finally returns— you feel relief flooding your system, ready to collect everyone before your eyes land on an item that makes your stomach sink.

“Your keys.” 

It seems that everyone else heard you, turning to look at Soobin who only stares at you all silently, a dreadful silence falling through all of you as you wait for him to speak.

“They slashed the tires. All of them.” Every last car was now dismantled; even the bicycles were left in pieces as Soobin was left to stare at the vehicles in despair, unsure of how he could return to the house with such horrible news. Yet, as he scans the room, he feels a sinking feeling form in his stomach, his headcount not coming out right as he takes in everyone’s face; his eyes meet yours, taking in the way you seem frail and shaken.

“Where’s…?” He’s unable to finish his sentence as Beomgyu solemnly shakes his head, a soft sniffle drawing your attention as you take in the way Taehyun has bowed his head in the darkness, eyes shut tight as he avoids watching Soobin’s reaction.

“So then we’re stuck here?” You ask, changing the subject as you try to push out the memory of the scene you stumbled upon; it’s horrid, knowing that they still lie there, just a few rooms away from you. 

“We can’t stay here, this house is too big for us to feel safe,” Yeonjun says, sniffing as he roughly wipes away tears that stray from his eyes; he’s trembling, you notice, the strong timbre of his voice betrayed by his body as his facade is melted away.

Soobin sighs, eyes darting around the dark home as he bites his lips nervously, mind rapidly searching for anything that could help. 

“I don’t— I don’t know, maybe my dad might have left some of his hunting gear—”

“Someone’s coming,” Taehyun hisses, standing up as his eyes lock on the large expanse of woods in the backyard. You’re all tense at his comment, your eyes desperately locking with Soobin’s as you urge him to help. 

“The basement, there might be something we can use to defend ourselves down there,” he breathes out, the front door swinging open as it slams into the wall and a harsh gust of wind seeps inside, the rain pouring down hard as a clap of thunder booms throughout the house. You’re all scrambling to follow Soobin at the sound, rushing to help Yeonjun who seems to be struggling to walk with Yeji. It’s dark in the hall as you try to make the least amount of noise possible, much too afraid to look back as you strain your eyes to keep Soobin’s dim figure in your sight, your hand steadily gliding on the wall to stabilize yourself. 

There’s an odd feeling settling in your stomach; even though you’re barely able to make out the shape of your own limbs in this dark maze of rooms and hallways, you can’t help but look around in hopes of being able to make a headcount; though you fail, you’re unable to stop the shaky exhale that escapes you as you look back. 

A loud crash rings far back, where the kitchen must be.  

You can hear sounds of struggle— it feels as though someone has knocked the air out of your lungs, their voices and cries of pain sounding too familiar as you let Yeji’s arm around your shoulder drop. 

Taehyun and Beomgyu. 

When the fuck did they get separated from you? Did the killer sneak up on them? You’re ready to run after them before Yeonjun is pulling you back roughly, your back colliding with his chest as he places a hand firmly on your mouth; his fingers dig into your cheeks, your cries muffled as he urges Soobin to continue. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Yeonjun repeats against you, allowing Soobin to carry Yeji as he attempts to calm your struggling form; you wouldn’t even know how to get back to them, but it’s torture as you hear the indistinguishable sounds of struggle— your adrenaline is high and your vision seems blurry as you bite down on Yeonjun’s hand, pushing him away the moment he lets go of you.

You don’t care if it’s stupid, you can’t leave your friends to die while you selfishly continue. 

You don’t know how, but you’re able to find your way back after a dreadfully long time, your frantic sprint slowing down to nothing more than a slow walk as you crouch down, your breaths shaky as you slowly peek out the hallway— you’re trembling horribly as you lean against the wall, attempting to ignore the way it’s all become eerily silent. 

Slowly, your eyes adjust to the minimum moonlight that floods in; the glass door has been shattered, a pool of glass and rain left on the kitchen tiles as your eyes scan the open area slowly; furniture has been knocked over, Soobin’s pristine bookshelf nothing more than a pile of wood and collectibles and your eyes run over the area in terror— then again, again and again in confusion, unable to find the one thing you dreaded seeing. 

Taehyun and Beomgyu are nowhere in sight. 

“Hey!” Yeonjun’s voice has you jumping out of your skin as you spin around, slapping a hand to your mouth as he immediately grabs ahold of your other, tugging you along brutally as you’re forced to stumble to your feet, forced to follow around him as he immediately wraps an arm tightly around your frame. 

“We need to get to safety, now’s not the time to worry about the others,” he hisses, and you’re only able to take one last glance behind you as your eyes land on something that makes your stomach drop and twist with dread. 

A thick, bold path of blood is strung across the floor, leading clean out into the kitchen and out onto the porch. 

Your mind goes back to your friends— and you find yourself biting back a cry, burying your head in Yeonjun’s chest as he swiftly leads you back the way you came— his touch is firm and comforting as he whispers soft apologies, able to empathize with you as his mind runs back to his own friends that he was forced to abandon tonight. 

The stairwell he takes you down is extremely unnerving; you’re fumbling for your phone’s flashlight as you stumble down, the stairwell seemingly never-ending as you try to not let your paranoia and fear allow you to turn back. 

Annoyingly, the basement feels like another home of its own— your flashlight shines on the lounge area, a minibar and a pool table left perfectly untouched as you scan over the couches next— you spot another door, the two of you carefully approaching it after having found the rest of the area empty.

Softly, you knock; the sound is barely audible, but as you press your ear to the door, you hear the distinctive sound of someone crying— your heart speeds as you recognize the voice that mumbles softly. 

“Yeji,” you whisper, turning to Yeonjun with wide eyes. He’s signaling for you to turn the brightness of your flashlight down, your teeth sinking on your lip as you try to gauge what might be happening inside.  

“It’s okay, I’m okay, don’t worry…” Soobin’s soft reassurances that echo through have the two of you perking up; before you can stop him, Yeonjun is swinging the door open, relief flooding his features as he softly tugs at you to follow along; he keeps you close to his back as your hands steady themselves on his body, peeking behind him as he guides you to where they are. 

It’s a laundry room; you’re briefly peeking around before Yeonjun takes you deeper into the room, towards a small area where a makeshift wall has been made out of shelves. On the other side, you find the exact people you were looking for; only, the scenario seems to be less than ideal. 

“Oh fuck,” Yeonjun hisses, crouching at your friends’ side in a haste. You’re shaking, a horrified sound leaving you as your knees knock roughly into the floor— your trembling hands hover over Soobin’s in terror, unsure of what to do as you press deeply into the wound of his stomach in an attempt to relieve the bleeding, your hands pressing his deeper as you feel the blood gushing onto you. 

“Soobin,” you whimper, biting back tears as you examine the rest of him, attempting to ignore how open the wound of his stomach is, “Soobin, what happened?” 

You don’t actually expect a response; you’re talking to yourself at most, your friend so light-headed that you watch his head tilt back, hitting the wall behind him with a soft bang as he lets out a shaky sigh. Your eyes are scanning the space around you frantically— there’s nothing that can really help him, but you try your best as your eyes land on a thin tee that’s been thrown into a laundry basket, your bloodied hands ripping it apart as you attempt to use it as makeshift bandages. 

Slowly, you lift his shirt; you wince at the sight, your eyes forced to take in the deep and opened wound directly on his stomach, your hands dropping the bandages a few times due to how horribly you tremble— soft apologies spill from you, blinking away tears as you try your best to tie the bandages as tightly as you can.

“Yeji, what—?” Your words die on your tongue as you take in her state; she’s no better than Soobin, Yeonjun’s flashlight pointing right at her feet— specifically, her ankles that have been smashed, the skin mangled and bruised as they point at an awkward angle. Your eyes flit back up to her face, only to find that she’s swimming in and out of consciousness, eyes fluttering softly as a steady stream of tears leaves her eyes. 

“Hunting gear,” Soobin pants softly, your head snapping back to him as you softly tell him not to speak. He shakes his head, the movement so minimal you almost missed it, and gulps, his brows knitting together as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Behind… mini bar. A shotgun—“ your eyes are wide as saucers as you watch him cough weakly, blood spewing past his lips as he goes silent; the only thing that lets you know he’s still alive is the subtle rise and fall of his stomach. 

“Yeonjun,” you say softly, his panicked eyes meeting yours, “The shotgun— I’ll go get it, stay here and look after them.”

His eyes widen more, if that’s even possible at this point, head shaking reverently as he takes a step away from Yeji’s side. Before you can leave, he grabs onto your wrist tightly, yanking you back as he frantically tells you that he’ll stay by your side. Attempting to dissuade him, you tell him that Soobin and Yeji need assistance— he only shakes his head once more, dark eyes not straying from yours for a second as he speaks. 

“Think about it,” he mutters softly, leaning in so that the two on the floor can’t hear, “who do you think they’re gonna target next? Everyone else is gone. We’re the only ones left untouched. To go out there on your own is suicide.” 

Briefly, his eyes flick to the floor; he’s contemplating what to say, biting at his cheek before he lets out a soft sigh.

“I care about you too much for you to be next.”

You feel winded as you stare at him— sincere, his hand refusing to let go as he looks at you tentatively— and nod softly, your free hand reaching up to gently pry his grip off you; you both try to ignore the way they’re soaked with Soobin’s blood. 

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s go,” you say, knowing now is the worst time for such a confession to be sprung on you; you turn to go back to where the main area of the basement is, Yeonjun following behind you diligently before you’re stopping at the sound of Yeji’s voice. 

“Please don’t leave,” she whines softly, eyes fluttering open slightly before they’re closing again, “please don’t… I don’t wanna die…” 

You’re quick to spring back to her side; she’s fading to and from consciousness, her eyelids twitching as she rolls her head against the cool surface behind her. You know it’s a stretch, but you try your best to give her a reassuring smile as you go to hold her hands— only to stop, the drying blood on them making you wince as you place them back down on your lap instead. 

“We’ll be quick, I promise,” you say softly, watching the way her eyes lock on yours; your stomach sinks, and the fear and panic you feel is reflected in her gaze as she weakly reaches out for you, her hand falling numbly on your lap as she lets out a soft sigh; she nods, closing her eyes as she goes back to unconsciousness, the weak rise and fall of her chest the only thing that’s able to get you to stand back up. 

Yeonjun turns off his flashlight as you turn down the brightness of yours; your phone is pointed straight to the floor as you slowly make your way back out, Yeonjun taking a protective stance close to you as you scan every inch and corner around you, beyond paranoid as you jump at any slight sound. 

Carefully, you look out the door; it’s barely cracked open an inch, your eyes carefully scanning the room as you finally deem it safe— your eyes quickly spot the bar, perfectly untouched as you remain hunched down, signaling Yeonjun to follow after you as you make a break for it. 

You’re crouched down behind the counter when you finally see it; a shotgun, nestled comfortably under hooks that were placed on the wooden counter— wearily, you smile, placing your phone down as you reach for the gun. 

It’s completely dark, and your hands run along the smooth expanse of the weapon as you fumble to get it out; behind you, Yeonjun fidgets nervously, his breaths deep and shaky as he watches you silently. 

Finally, you manage to unhook it; your hands feel foreign along the expanse of the gun, unable to get a comfortable grip on it as you turn around to hand it to Yeonjun— your smile falters, your hands suddenly a lot more slippery as your eyes meet his in the dark. 

In his hands, he holds what looks to be a rag; your eyes narrow, squinting at it before they flicker back up to him with dread. 

“I’m sorry.”

That’s all he says before he’s launching at you, the gun knocked out of your hands and skidding across the floor as the rag is pressed firmly to your nose. 

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

It’s warm. 

The heavy blanket is comforting as you shift for a second, trying to find a comfortable position before you’re frowning, finding yourself unable to move freely at all— suddenly, it all comes back to you. 

Your hands are bound. You’ve been blindfolded.

You’ve been kidnapped. 

Yeonjun. You want to scream, but your throat is way too dry for you to even speak. Something’s odd, though; your hands are bound, pressing tightly against the small of your back, but your legs are free. Tentatively, you sit up, unsure of what to do as you listen for any strange sounds.

You don’t know where you are, or what Yeonjun’s intentions are, but you do know that you need to get out. But god, how is that even possible? Biting at your lip, you feel your blindfold becoming wet with tears as the frustration builds up inside you.

“Hello, angel. Happy to see that you’re up.” 

Your head snaps up at the sound, attempting to find the general location of the voice as your head turns frantically; he chuckles, the sound odd as you find yourself recognizing it as the voice modulator from the Scream movies. Frowning, you feel a surge of rage course through you. 

“Yeonjun, you asshole, let me go!” You attempt to shout, your voice raspy and weak as you thrash around in the bed. Pausing, you listen to his mocking laughs, shaking with rage as you kneel on the mattress, wondering if you should just get up and try to charge at him— if you’re going to die, you might as well make an effort to escape before you do so. 

“Now, don't be so haste,” He says, his voice laced with amusement; stiffening, your ears perk at the sounds of footsteps, slow and calculated before they stop right before you— you’re unable to hide the way you flinch as his hand tilts your chin up, a gloved leather hand holding you so gently despite all he’s done.

“Don’t you wanna have some fun before you die? Come on, I’ll make it painless,” he whispers softly, the voice raspy against your ears as you feel him lean in— instinctively, you lean back, unsure of what to do with this sudden turn of events. 

“If you really make it fun, I’ll spare you,” He says teasingly; it seems as though your face has lit up at the idea, because another of his teasing chuckles reaches you, amused by your antics as you wait for him to continue hesitantly. 

“We could make it a little game. If you win, I spare you; I call the police, let them deal with the aftermath while I run— then another game would begin. If you lose,” your breath hitches as you feel something cool against the underside of your chin— a knife, you realize, the point digging in as a threat as he slowly pulls it back, the blade brushing against your skin as he keeps your head tilted up.

“I get to keep you.” 

You can practically feel your blood become cold; keep you? What kind of sick and twisted fate was that? You think you’d rather just be killed instead. 

“What,” you stutter, thinking back to his options as you remain skeptical about it, “Why would you do that? What could you possibly gain from sparing me and calling the police on yourself? I know who you are.”

“Do you?” 

The words die on your tongue— your face must be easy to read, because his laughter is nothing but a heavy weight on you as you feel your mind racing with dread— what kind of game was he trying to play with you? 

“Obviously I do,” your words may be confident, but your voice trembles, brows knitting together as you scoot forwards slightly; your legs dangle at the end of the bed, your feet hesitantly touching the floor; your shoes are gone, you realize, your sock-clad feet coming in contact with the smooth floor beneath you. 

“How about we play a game then?” He’s backing up, his footsteps receding as you strain your ears in anticipation; you’re jumping at the sound of something scraping along the floor, the sound slow and heavy as you force yourself to stand, unsure of where he might be as you prepare yourself for anything that might come unexpectedly— you freeze, the room going quiet as you hear him sigh; rustling ensues, and a creak of a chair is enough to make you realize that he’s sat down. 

“Three chairs,” he says, an evident smile to his voice as the soft click of a button is heard every time he speaks, “three people sit here. I’ll even let you guess who’s who. If you guess who the killer is, you win.” 

Three people? Who could he possibly be talking about? You gulp, your mind racing back to Yeji and Soobin— your heart flutters, hopeful and uncontrollable, the thought of them surviving making your eyes sting. You want to call out to them— to make sure they’re okay— but before you can, the dreaded click of a button is heard, a static filling the room as he pauses before speaking. 

“Come here, cutie.” You can only back away at his words, your legs hitting the back of the bed as you shake your head softly. He tuts at you like you’re a scolded child, sighing impatiently as he pauses; you hear nothing except the bored click of the modulator’s button, the chair creaking as your eyelids flicker underneath your blindfold. 

Nothing happens— he hasn’t lost his patience yet, all movements ceasing as you’re left with an eerie silence— so with a heavy gulp, you find yourself standing once more, shaky legs taking a step forward hesitantly.

“Good girl. Come on, closer,” his whispers are soft alluring, like a siren as he directs you where to go, “yes, this way. You’re almost to the first chair; I won’t hurt you, I promise.” 

At his comment, you stop immediately; all you get in return is a harsh laugh from him, unable to pinpoint what direction the sound comes from as you almost feel like he’s connected to a speaker of sorts. Again, his fingers fiddle with the button, the sound of clicks haunting you as you let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m kidding. Or am I?” He seems to be having much more fun with this than you, but you’re forced to walk forwards again as his next comment sets you on edge. 

“Come on, I’m losing my patience here,” He sighs, his voice gruff as you stumble forward once more. He chuckles, watching you struggle as he finally tells you to slow down. “You’re here. Come on doll, touch me.”

Your next step is curious; your foot touches the chair leg as you try to see where he might be, jumping softly as your foot knocks against a pair of shoes— he’s laughing again, and you’re frowning as his words register in your mind.

“How am I supposed to…?” Your hands are bound; you can’t see left standing stupidly in front of him as you try to decipher what he could possibly want you to do. 

“Get closer to me, touch me. See if you can recognize me.”

You have no idea what to do; you feel ridiculous as you plant an unsure knee at the side of the chair, almost digging into his thigh as you try to position yourself; they’re unresponsive, oddly relaxed as you lean into them. 

Hesitantly, you do the first thing you can think of; you’re leaning in close, your head resting against their chest as you concentrate. You don’t smell any perfume, and your lips drag along the expanse of their shoulders curiously— they’re broad and sturdy, not flinching even as you make your way back towards their neck— so clearly, it’s not Yeji, her petit form a contrast to the person beneath you.

Everything this man says could be a trick; this could be him, or it could be another of your friends, but the plain tee they wear isn’t reminiscent of what anyone was wearing, your frown deepening as your lips ghost up his neck— then up to his cheek, hesitant with all your movements until you stop your lips, ghosting eerily close to his. 

There’s duct tape on his mouth. 

You don’t need to linger any longer to guess that this isn’t the killer, and your suspicions are only confirmed as the voice begins to laugh mockingly at you again; the person beneath you doesn’t move an inch. 

“I see you noticed something,” he comments, enjoying the way you scoff at his words, “but can you figure out who it is? I’ll give you a point if you do.” 

You can’t help but get angry at this man’s idiocy, biting back your tongue as you hold back the urge to insult him; instead, you sigh, knowing that despite his light tone, there wasn’t room for you to say no. 

Your lips ghost up to his cheekbones; your arms are turning awkwardly as you opt to lean back, attempting to feel his arm before you’re coming in contact with his wrist; they’ve been bound to the armchair, a tight hand around it as you attempt to feel his hand— but you choose not to, biting your lip as you almost lose your balance. 

Hesitantly, you try to nose your way into recognizing his features; it feels intimate and wrong, terror seeping into your veins as you try to decipher who it might be. It isn’t until you feel the way his hair parts that you get a clue, your nose brushed with hair that clings to his nape as you go for one last feature you might recognize; hesitantly, your lips brush down his nose, feeling the way it’s smooth and rounds out perfectly at the bottom. 

“Beomgyu,” you cry softly, your face burying itself in his neck as you allow a soft sob to slip out of you; the action is so familiar, but it’s nowhere near comforting as you wonder if he’ll make it out of here alive with you. 

“How cute. I see you got along with him quite well,” his words are nothing more than an insult as you stand back up, wobbling to your feet as you sniffle weakly; bringing your shoulder up, you wipe at your  uncomfortably wet cheeks, the blindfold tight on your face as it catches all your tears. 

“How ‘bout I make it more interesting,” he muses, and you can already feel that he’s up to no good as he pauses dramatically, “I’ll let you guess these next too, but I won’t move at all. If you get all three right, you get a prize.” 

You say nothing, your heart pounding with rage as you look down at the floor; he merely chuckles, fueling your anger as the dreaded click of the button infiltrates your ears once more. 

“We’re here, to your right. Come to me.” 

Slowly, you do what he says; your feet are hesitant as the wood floor creaks under you, only stopping the moment your foot collides with someone else’s. Hesitantly, you lean in. 

It’s the same as before; broad shoulders, the body limp beneath you as you attempt to figure out who it might be. They’re lax, way too much if you think about it, your own body tense in contrast as you wonder if this might be it— if the killer might be here, under you. 

Just as you did before, your lips brush closer to his, looking for the familiar duct tape you found on Beomgyu— only, nothing is found. Shaking, you’re leaning awkwardly as your hands quickly try to find his wrist— finding it, you grab onto it, your grip tight as you realize something angrily.

He’s not bound.

Carelessly, you lean in; sure enough, your lips ghost around his features, his sharp jaw and pointed nose giving it away as you lean in towards his ear— his piercings are still on, too. 

“Yeonjun, I know it’s you, you bastard,” you seethe, waiting for him to spring into action; yet, he remains still, your chest heaving as you try to figure out if he’s stirred at all. 

A moment passes. Then another, and another, and soon you’re frowning as you wonder what he might be up to. It’s only then that you remember his little game for you, scoffing as you sit up straight. 

For a moment, you think of harming him; biting him, kicking at him, anything that could injure him while you’re still towering over him. But at the same time, you’re not strong enough— you still feel dizzy from the chloroform that was used on you, and the fatigue has only elevated from everything that’s happened today. Even worse, you’re bound and blinded— he’s free and is probably armed, and not to mention, is holding your friends hostage. 

Begrudgingly, you find yourself standing up, hoping to get on his good side as you move to the next person; you have an idea of who it is, but your heart still thunders against your chest with worry as you lean in. 

Everything is so familiar; he still has the bandages on his arm, his body warm and weak as you find yourself emotional again, slowly leaning in until you find your forehead resting on his shoulder. 

“Taehyun,” you cry softly, your heart yearning to save the man you’d hopelessly been in love with for a while now; maybe, if you appeal to Yeonjun enough, he’ll spare your friends as well. 

“Taehyun, I’m so glad you’re okay,” you cry, your body shaking as you feel him stir beneath you; he’s waking up, you realize, your heart pounding with dread as the thought of Yeonjun getting annoyed by him and possibly killing him floods through you. 

Softly, he groans. He’s in pain as he shifts, his breath fanning on your cheek as you look up in his direction. It’s so quiet, and if you weren’t already straining your ears for the dreadful sound of the click of a button, you would’ve missed the way he weakly called out to you.

“You’re…” he sounds so confused, taking in your distressed state as you shake your head softly, urging him to not say a word.

“You’re… so sweet.” 

His hands are on your waist before you can react; you’re planted firmly in his lap as you begin to tremble, the sound of the button clicks ringing so close to your ear making your head shake as you try to deny it all. 

“Honestly, you’re precious,” he says, still mocking you before the sound of something being discarded on the floor sways your attention; you’re then being picked up and moved as you attempt to thrash in his grip, only for it all to fail as you’re tossed on the bed like a ragdoll. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any better, you prove me wrong.” 

Sitting up, you’re quick to scoot back on the bed; your back is pressed firmly to the wall as you attempt to process everything, noticing that he hasn’t tried to chase after you. Instead, you hear his footsteps receding once more, the foreign sound of rustling making your ears perk before he’s walking back to you. 

“But, Yeonjun,” you say, shaking like a leaf as you huddle against the wall, “he… wasn’t bound, and back in the basement—”

“You’d be surprised at the things people would do to save their own life.”  He says, sighing at the way Yeonjun was quick to give everything up; he was never gonna chase after you after you had bitten him, and it was only when Taehyun managed to corner him while you tried to find your way back and threatened his life that he agreed to do his bidding— it only took a knife to get him scared straight. 

“Bring her to me, and I’ll spare you.” He whispered to him, his knife ready to breach skin as it pressed to Yeonjun’s throat, “you have my word.” 

Yeonjun’s only mistake was believing him. 

So now here he stands, at the foot of the bed as he watches the way you begin to cry; his heart drops, crawling onto the bed as he quickly tosses the device aside, grabbing onto your legs and pulling you onto his lap; he disregards the way you jump at his touch.

“Oh no, don’t cry my angel,” he says, lips ghosting along your jaw as you mutter incoherent things, any will to fight drained as you process this betrayal— from Yeonjun, from him, “it’s not like they weren’t deserving of it.”  

Taehyun is eerily observant; he smiles, kisses littering your jaw as his hands rub up and down your waist, a touch that would have you curling up shyly completely disregarded as you try to understand what he could possibly be talking about. 

“You’ve seen it too, right?” He whispers, eager to prove a point as he’s leaning forward, more and more until he towers over you, your back hitting the mattress gently, “They don’t care about anyone but themselves. They don’t feel guilty for their actions, even when they’ve killed someone long before I did.”

Frowning, you find yourself speechless, your mouth opening and closing as you try to decipher what he could possibly be talking about. He’s close, so close, chest against yours as the bed dips next to each side of his head, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. 

“Do you remember Hueningkai? Poor kid, everyone said it was an accident— a careless overdose, they said,” your thoughts go back to Yeonjun, commenting on the high tensions as he told you of the loss of their friend, “but I knew better— they all thought it was just a joke until it was too late. They always fucking threatened me to keep my mouth shut or I’d be next.” 

“What else could I do? They kept close tabs on me, and I only wanted to defend myself,” he whined, your body stiffening as you feel tears fall down your neck— he’s crying, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he presses his hips flush against yours, pressing you down the mattress as he lays his body weight on you. 

“I was so scared,” he cries, shaking his head as his right arm goes down to find purchase on your waist, “they threatened me every day. Kept track of all my movements, made sure I never told anyone else. I was so scared when they started inviting you more.” 

“I didn’t know how to get rid of them, but I wanted to keep you safe, I—” his hips roll against yours, a broken whimper falling from his lips as your mouth parts in surprise, “I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Please? Please will you forgive me? His words are a mantra as you find your heart pounding, a myriad of emotions swimming within you as you feel the way he breaks down against you. He’s a mess, the pleas so close to your ear as you feel the way he hardens against you.

You’re terrified. You’re worried, and you’re unsure of what to do because what the fuck have you gotten yourself into? It’s impossible to push past the way he’s adamant in his movements, his hips slow and calculated as you feel the way he presses right against your slit; desperate, broken, ready to show you how remorseful he is. 

“I promise I never meant for it to go this far. I didn’t know how else to get rid of them, I was so scared that they might’ve had their eyes on you next, I don’t know what I’d do without you—“

“Please, will you forgive me?”

It’s too much. You don’t know where he ends and you begin, your mind swimming with questions and fears as you simply nod your head yes. Your throat feels dry as you do so, swallowing heavily as you shift underneath Taehyun.

“Yes. Yes, I forgive you,” you say, unsure of what else there is to say as Taehyun sniffles softly against you, hovering over you as his weight is lifted off your chest. 

“Really?” He says quietly, his fingers dancing at the hem of your shirt as he waits for you to speak. You hesitate with your answer— there’s something else that he’s asking you, his fingers breaching past your shirt and softly caressing the warm skin of your stomach. He’s waiting, his eyes burning into your face as he only seems to be leaning in closer, closer and closer until his breath is fanning across your face once more. 

“Yes. I forgive you.” 

You don’t mean the words as much as you want to, as much as you wish that you did, even if your body and heart still yearn for him— but the adrenaline and fear within you have yet to disappear. It seems to be enough for him though, a fond laugh escaping him before he’s fiddling with the buttons of your pants, eager to take them off as he’s pushing your shirt up. 

“I’m so sorry I scared you,” he whispers, remorseful and weak as his curious hands wander across the expanse of your hips, gliding around the hem of your panties, hooking a finger at each side before he’s slowly dragging them off. 

“I just wanted to protect you.” 

Slowly, his hand cups your pussy— you can’t help the way your face heats up, your mouth falling open at the sudden stimulation. Slowly, his middle finger strokes up and down your slit, his palm pressing down at your clit as he presses kisses gingerly on your chest. 

You hold back a yelp at the way he bites you suddenly; he’s marking you, sucking and licking your breasts as he doesn’t bother to unhook your bra— opting to push it out of the way instead. He’s teasing you, working you up as you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. A soft sigh leaves you the moment he begins to tease your entrance, your legs shaking as you try to ignore the way you’re dripping wet for him. 

“I’d do anything to keep you safe,” he mutters against your skin, lips making a trail up the column of your neck as he finally inserts two fingers inside you. The stretch has a weak whimper leaving you, your lips pressed tightly as you shiver at the way he pumps his fingers, slow and agonizing as he takes in the way your body becomes responsive to him, your walls squeezing and sucking him in. 

“The last thing I’d do is harm you.” 

His pace quickens; you hate how reactive and easy to read you are, because all it gets you in return is the amused comments from Taehyun that sound smug in your ears. 

He’s far too good at this, you find yourself thinking, his pace quickening and turning much rougher than you anticipated. He’s got a single goal in mind, and it’s to make you fall apart before him, until you can’t remember anything but him. His change in attitude is unexpected, your brows furrowing as you bite at your lip, desperate to keep quiet despite the way your hips buck and roll against his hand. 

Your body feels so hot, the coil that winds at your stomach only worsening as your legs squeeze around Taehyun’s hips, his lips planting a gentle kiss under your ear before he’s whispering his praises to you, stretching you open as his other hand finds itself at your waist, holding you down and pressing you to the mattress as he takes control over you effortlessly. 

“Come on angel, you’ve been so good for me so far— cum for me, pretty girl,” his lips press a soft kiss to your cheek, his palm pressing itself back on your clit before he’s slowing down his pace, focusing on finding a rhythm that drives you crazy while he hits your sweet spot.

“I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll make you forget. Don’t you want that? Hmm?” You’re not sure if you’re able to register his words at this point, your fingers grasping at the bed sheets beneath you as you squirm and whine at his ministrations. 

“Come on angel, show me how cute you look when you cum.” 

Your body shudders as if it were under his control, drawing out your orgasm like it’s effortless as his fingers curl inside you, his lips stretching into a smile as he nips at your neck, continuing to stimulate you even after you begin to cry from the stimulation. 

It isn’t long before he’s bringing you back up again, the sensation surprising you as he begins to rub at your clit cruelly, enjoying the way you thrash and cry at his actions. Even when you arch your back, your hands desperate to be freed, he refuses to give in, your soft pleas falling on deaf ears as your legs begin to tremble.

Before you know it, your hips are bucking again, distraught cries escaping you as you chant for him to keep going, your brain emptied as you forget where you are, why you’re even there. It’s endearing for him as you sniffle and whine, your hips stilling as you finally reach your high— it’s only when you go quiet that he stops, pressing tender kisses to your shoulders as his hands slide soothingly up and down your hips. 

It takes a while before you’re grounded again; the rush of emotions is too much for you, and before you’re able to process anything, Taehyun is pressing against you, his tip warm and leaking against your entrance as he watches the way you flutter around him hopelessly, 

“My pretty angel,” he sighs, pushing the tip in before he’s pulling back out. This goes on for a while, the feeling of him barely fucking into you frustrating as you attempt to push your hips towards him— he stops you, his grip bruising on your hipbones as he presses you down firmly. 

“So perfect. So good, all for me,” his words are possessive as he finally pushes into you, a broken moan escaping him as he leans in to kiss you; you’re dazed, unable to do anything else but reciprocate as you take in the way he stretches you so well, filling you perfectly as his hips press flush against yours. 

His pace is slow at first; uncertain, unabashed sounds leaving him as he takes in the way you feel so warm around him, the feeling of you squirming beneath him making his eyes roll back, your pretty mouth perfect and pouty as he resists the urge to fuck you stupid. 

He only lets go the minute you begin to become reckless; the moment you try to meet his thrusts, he picks up the pace, a soft yelp escaping you as he takes in the sight before him; you look perfect, your body bouncing with every thrust as he finds himself straightening up, knees digging into the mattress as he drags you towards him— he’s fucking you senseless, and his head is spinning at the way you’re beginning to call out his name pathetically. 

His hand quickly finds your clit; it sends you reeling, the feeling enough to have your mouth open in a silent scream before a broken moan escapes you. 

“That’s it pretty, take it,” he sighs, hips snapping roughly into yours as he brings you back to another orgasm; you’re left defenseless to his insatiable needs, your body going limp as he continues to fuck you despite the way your walls hug him so tightly. 

Your mind has gone blank— you don’t know what else to do but call out to Taehyun, his grip on you like a vice as he doesn’t falter for a second; but you feel so sensitive, as if you’ll fall apart if he continues like this. 

“Taehyun…” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut behind the blindfold as you whine. Please. Please, please, slow, you chant, incoherent and a mess as he disregards you, using you to chase his high that is desperately within reach. 

“My perfect girl,” he says, a grin on his face as you feel yourself clenching around him again, the sensitivity used against you as you feel yourself becoming winded up again, your body pliant in his grasp and eager to meet his commands. 

“So sweet, so stupid,” he mocks, reaching up to rip the blindfold from your face; your eyes sting as you close them immediately, not used to the sudden amount of light as you slowly take your time to adjust. 

“You have no idea how much I love you. Watching you take pity on me like that, fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back as he continues to fuck you at a ruthless pace, “shit, you’d believe anything I’d tell you, huh?”

Slowly, your mind registers what he’s saying. But the pleasure is fogging up your mind as your eyes finally adjust, fluttering open and meeting his own, pleased ones. His eyes are blown open, filled with lust and adrenaline as he slows down his thrusts to nothing but a roll of his hips. His bandage is still there, his wound still not healed as a fresh wave of blood paints the untouched fabric— he must’ve changed it at some point. 

But what scares you the most are his clothes, covered with splatters of blood as his eyes narrow down at you carefully, his smile never leaving as he tilts his head curiously. 

“So, it was all…” your words die on your tongue with a particularly harsh thrust, your body sliding against the mattress as he lets out an amused huff of laughter.

“Not really. The story about Hueningkai is real. They’re wicked people, and I was just doing what was right,” he says, pointy fangs revealing themselves in a wicked smile as he looks down at you, “but they didn’t know that I knew.” 

Tears well in your eyes as you turn your head, wanting to look at your friend to make sure he was okay— but your face is quickly tugged back as Taehyun leans in, a frown on his face as he squeezes your cheeks together roughly. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me. I’m not done with you.” He’s ruthless as he works to wind you back up, his hips snapping against yours at a brutal pace as his eyes never leave yours, and vice-versa. His hand that was holding your waist down slides across your skin to circle your clit, an involuntary whine leaving you as you clench around his cock hungrily. 

“There we go. Keep your eyes on me,” his voice is nothing but a sultry murmur as his eyes become lidded, leaning in close as his eyes savor the look on your face. “Look at me when you cum.” 

His hand travels down from your cheeks to your throat, keeping your gaze steady as he begins to tighten his grip; you feel yourself becoming lightheaded, the overwhelming amount of stimulation breaking you as you feel tears sting at your eyes.

The sound you let out is broken and pathetic; your orgasm is strong as Taehyun lets go of you, the blood rushing back to you as your eyes never leave his, lidded and filled with lust as he groans at the way you clench around him. 

He lets you ride out your orgasm; it isn’t until moments later that he’s reaching his own, your body too weak to fight the overstimulation as he cums inside you, warm and unending as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting at the skin within his reach. 

It’s quiet, and you’re left staring at the ceiling as the aftermath of it all begins to settle; your shoulders shake and hot tears stream down your face, the reminder of your situation a shattering realization as you try to pretend that the situation is not what it seems, that Taehyun is a good person.

Hesitantly, you glance back at the three chairs; they’re both still out, probably drugged as Yeonjun is now bound to his seat. They’re still alive, you think, a small relief as you wonder what it would take to escape from this awful home.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to leave alive, or you’ll die trying.

Slowly, Taehyun sits up. His eyes are crazed as he stares at you, caressing your cheek tenderly as he then moves on to rub your thighs soothingly. He still hasn’t pulled out, his cum nestled deeply within you and beginning to leak out as he lets out a thoughtful hum,

“How many times did you cum,” he mutters to himself, tracing shapes on your thigh with his thumb as he becomes lost in thought, “let’s see…” 

“I spare you, I spare you not,” twice when he fingered you.

“I spare you…” once on his cock. Then, another time while he was reaching his high. 

“I spare you not.”

His eyes finally meet yours. He frowns, a pout on his face as he tilts his head. 

“That’s a shame, I was getting quite fond of you,” he says, leaning in as he presses butterfly kisses along your shoulders, up the column of your neck before he places a tender kiss on your cheek.

“Unless you want to even it out?” 

You suppose this is where you begin.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

Love Booth Challenge

Love Booth for underrated characters.

Ikemen version

Hello and welcome to my first challenge. I am proud to present to you the Love Booth challenge, a month long exploration of love for the underrated characters of the Ikemen games.

General Rules

Works and art of all forms are welcome! Fanarts, fanfics, headcanons, moodboards, playlists and everything you can manage to think of is included. 

Limited to Ikemen fandoms and to certain suitors, due to popularity of some characters more than others I have decided to host a challenge exclusively for the less appreciated.

I had this idea since forever what took me so long to post it was the creations of the prompts I created in association with my lovely friend MO @xxsycamore.

I did my best to include most of the less loved characters from the Ikemen games exclusively with an English version.

That said if you think about other less popular characters, belonging to one of these games or to other Ikemen games that are not out in English yet, You are allowed to use these prompts as inspiration.

The main focus is to show love to characters not so loved by the fandom/game all year around without limit for this reason I won't make a masterlist.

When posting your works, use the tag #love booth challenge - you can as well tag me @queengiuliettafirstlady in your posts! It will help find other creations for those interested to check them out.

Posting to other sites is allowed - as long as you mention the challenge and its creators.

Reblogs are appreciated!

Content Rules

This challenge features a list of prompts, and dialogue prompts which you can match to your liking, if you want to. You can create more than one work for the same prompt, too!

Under the cut, you will find the prompts linked to the characters included in the challenge, that can be mixed up with prompts from other challenges happening around the fandom in the same month.

Any additional rules are up to the artists. You are free to choose the rating (make sure to mark your NSFW works accordingly, and if you’re minor, make sure not to interact with such!), and also the genre (the challenge’s main focus is romantic love, but it is not obligatory for your work to be of such genre), all characters and ships included are up to you (OCs, character x MC, character x character, etc.)

You’re free to take requests from your audience using these prompt lists, again please make sure to mention the challenge and its creator.

You’re absolutely free to post your works for this challenge whenever you feel like.

The final and most important rule is to have fun and not pressure yourself about full completion of the challenge. Do only as many works as you wish! :)

Here is a free-to-use banner/header for the challenge!

If you have any additional questions, I’ll be happy to help. There is no such thing as a stupid question, so don’t hesitate to get in contact with us! I wish you happy creating!

THE LISTS

Ikemen Vampire

Dazai - Storyteller - A walk under the cherry trees.

Jean - Monster - "I am not worthy of love."

Mozart - Music - "You are my muse."

Sebastian - Secrets - "My composure is an act."

Shakespeare - Bard - A poem for my lover

Faust - Alchemy - "Behave for me."

Charles - Obsession - "I wish we could stay like this forever."

Isaac - Scholar - "I don't understand people at all ... yet I found myself quite curious to know everything about you."

Ikemen Prince

Keith - Duality - "Trust me."

Luke - Bear - "I will protect you."

Jin - Sweets - "All I need is our love."

Rio - Pet - "I will love you always and forever."

Sariel - Discipline - "It will do good to remember I am quite a strict tutor."

Nokto - Facade - "Were the truth lies ?"

Licht - Scar - "No matter what I do this scars will not heal, but your presence made me forget about them."

Yves - Fashion - "Would you like to get ready together ?"

Ikemen Revolution

Zero - Identity - "I am human because of you."

Harr - Magic - "I only want to keep you safe."

Loki - Abandonment - Seeking comfort on a rainy night.

Blanc - Gentleman - "Do you remember what I warned you about when you came in Cradle?"

Mousse - Dreams - "You are the subject of my dreams. I want to know even more about you."

Dean - Strict - Stern gaze softening upon an endearing sight.

Dalim - Flirt - "You shouldn't have trusted me."

Oliver - Creativity - "The best part about my creations is seeing you smile."

Ikemen Sengoku

Kennyo - Revenge - "You make me feel complete with your love."

Ranmaru - Loyalty - "I will always be there for you."

Sasuke - Companion - Fanning over the fanboy.

Mitsunari - Knowledge - "Let me take care of you."

Yoshimoto - Beauty - Admiring art together.

Kanetsugu - Strategy - "I found quite difficult to keep my composure when you are around."

Hideyoshi - Devotion - "You're my number one priority."

Ieyasu - Teacher - Collecting herbs together.

Once again Have fun and Happy Creating! I can't wait to see all your creations. 🧡💟💌🤗

[springingsour]

BLINK | Various One Piece X Reader

BLINK | Various One Piece X Reader

Summary: You, a former pirate of the Roger Pirate Crew, were once a legend whispered among the waves. A soul thought lost to the depths of a mysterious storm, you’ve awoken to find that a quarter of a century has slipped away like sand through your fingers. Time has shrouded your past in shadows, and the world you knew has transformed beyond recognition.

Your captain, a beacon of courage and embodiment of freedom itself, now rests in the embrace of the sea, leaving you as the last lingering echo of a bond once vibrant and fierce. The crew, your family forged in the heat of adventure, has scattered like droplets of passing waves, drifting apart in the relentless winds of fate. The sea, once your playground, now feels like an uncharted void, a realm of lost dreams and undiscovered echoes.

But whispers on the salty breeze speak of a new quest; the hunt for the One Piece—a treasure hyperbolized by tales, and the legacy your captain left behind. It is not just gold and jewels that lie hidden in the heart of the ocean, but the very title that ignited ambition in the hearts of many: King of the Pirates, ruler of the Seas, a promise sealed with his death.

A calling beckons, a fire ignited within the hollow of your chest.

Will you rise from the ashes of obscurity and heed this siren call? Will you join the wanderers, fighters and dreamers in their search for glory, taking to the roaring waves anew? Your speed, once unmatched, remains a flicker within you, whispering of potential unfulfilled. You may have been left behind, but the spirit of adventure still courses through your veins, and the horizon beckons with the promise of possibility.

Embrace the mysteries of the ocean, and face the storms that swirl within and without. For in the quest for the One Piece, you might just rediscover not only the legacy of your captain and crew but also the very essence of who you truly are.

The seas await your return—will you dare to chart your course?

______________________________________________________________

Snippets:

Masterful Artist: MC wields a specially designed arm attachment for tattooing, likened to a maestro conducting a symphony. The tattoos mark allies and foes, representing fierce battles and unforgettable adventures.

Ocean Enthusiast: Keen eye for the beauty of the ocean; passionate about capturing maritime life in art.

Vivid Chronicles: Paintings reflect the raw essence of sea life from bright horizons to stormy nights.

Notorious Reputation: Known for boldly painting marine ships and coastal bases, earning both reverence and fear; has a notable bounty.

Dual Nature: "Menace-certified"; navigates a world of camaraderie and rivalry.

Tattoo Stories: Each tattoo tells a unique story, deepening connections with the crew.

Theme: Intense adventure with elements of family, tragedy, fun and romance among characters.

Nice Try | One-Shot

______________________________________________________________

This is actually a One Piece Oc turned Fanfic that I wrote when I first got into the anime so many years ago...! This is just a small snippet that I want to share with you all about the concept...!

Would you all like this to be a full fanfic?

Let me know your thoughts on this, and I hope to share more...!

Thank you for reading...!

A Sour Author

[writing-for-the-gays]

Run rabbit, run.

HABIT x TRANSMASC! PLUS SIZED! HAIRY! READER

half monster HABIT hc + fic

Tw: HABIT being HABIT | violence| marijuana usage | HABIT is obsessed with t-guy pussy god whispered this in my ear at 3 am | HABIT is obsessed with FAT T-guy pussy | LIGHTLY TOUCHED ON FEEDING | implied MC running on caffeine and weed and not very much sleep| monster habit (I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY NO IM NOT)

For 🐛 anon

For Evan fuckers: Oh, deer!

-We all know this man is a sadist and masochist, we can't pretend we don't.

-hes a biter!!! He will bite you! Like hard enough to need stitches. You've had a few embarrassing ER visits. (Habit can dress wounds and stitch you up but he just likes how embarrassed you get about it)

- he and Evan are very different in bed, but one thing they have in common is giving head like a god. Dude low-key is obsessed with your cunt.

-but he's good at a 'sloppy drooling messy' kind of head that Ev cannot provide.

- fuck he's in love with your body. Like, he grabs your belly and just plays with it, literally salivating at the idea of leaving hickeys.

- he fucks you in a mirror so you can watch the way your body moves as he fucks you.

-oh and he loves your boobs , hairy man tits? Who fucking wouldn't.

- he stares at them constantly. You couldn't get him to tell you the color of your eyes but he has every hair on your chest memorized 🫡.

- he's into prey and predator dynamics, he gets so incredibly hard when he's chasing you through the woods he can't help himself.

- Vinny has been caught in this game of yours by accident a few times , and if he finds you, covered in bite marks half naked with twigs in your hair and he just gives you one of these looks:

- HABITs into knife play, you have lots of scars from it and he doesn't feel bad Abt it 😔✊.

- HE WANTS TO BE PEGGED but with one of the ones with a silicone grinding thing inside so it grinds right against your t-dick.

-hes a dom bottom mind you.

- but you peg him and he becomes a stupid feral mess.

(so obsessed with the idea I wrote the fanfic Abt it so it's going here instead of at the end)

He could feel your hairy belly press against his back as the silicone abused his prostate; drool pooling on the corner of his lip, looking back and admiring you he let out a purr. You look away, you can't look at the smug very fucked drunk grin you're sure he's giving you.

Your hips stutter against him and he tenses as you hit his prostate dead on, his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as you wring another orgasm from him.

You begin to slow your hips, grinding the silicone tip slowly inside of him, exhaustion and want find respite in your bones.

You need to stop and cum, this grinding wasn't enough, you needed more, his tongue, his cock, his fingers his anything.

He presses against you, back arching with the curve of your stomach, resting against it as he comes into a position that shouldn't be comfortable.

You avoid his eye contact and his thumb, middle finger and index finger grab at your face, turning your head harshly to look at him.

His eyes bore into yours and it makes you want to squeeze your own shut, but you just can't, like he has some kind of hold on your mind you cant avoid his gaze.

His face is flushed, and he's drooling. But his eyes, while dilated and wet with tears, were strong and threatening.

"I didn't say you could slow down rabbit." He rolls his hips against yours and it sends pleasure shooting across your body.

"Good little rabbits do what they're told. They run when they're told to run, right?" He captures your lips in his and his tongue forces it's way into your mouth before you can respond.

It's a rough kiss, teeth clacking together and tongues rubbing against each other. You can't help but find yourself getting wetter and wetter, dick getting harder and harder, pressing right up against the grinding pad.

He pulls away and bites your lip hard enough to make you bleed, before letting out a growl.

"So, keep fuckin' me, now. Do what you're told. Run rabbit, run."

-makes you breakfast in bed and he's so hard because he can't stop thinking Abt what your mouth can do and how those teeth can rip and tear apart flesh

-please blow him after eating ✨.

- trust me it's purely to indulge him, don't be surprised if there's something you're allergic to in anything he makes.

- loves getting you really really high to overstimulate you, oh you're really high? Well hes sucking your t-dick rn and finger fucking your hole so have a fun time trying to concentrate on rolling a joint for him.

-it's so badly rolled you literally have to suffocate him with your thighs so he'll back off and you can redo it. It looks like a fucking hard candy.

- Goes fucking feral over your hair, he's into hairy guys and fuck do you fit the bill.

- you keep it at least slightly maintained more for convenience but you don't shave.

- he loves

MONSTER FUCKING AHEAD

-he goes into heat gets bored and can't control himself and goes either fully monster (basically a demon anthro hare with grey and washed out purple fur, sharp teeth and claws) or partially monster (EARS AND TAIL AND TEETH AND CLAWS AND NOTHING ELSE)

- knotted tentacle dick bc peace and love on planet earth.

- he gets real possessive during this kind of thing, leaving enough marks for Vinny to notice. And they're not human sized either

- large, deep, scabbed over marks on most of your visible skin, most will probably scar.

- and vinny doesn't really care (look you're a consenting adult and you seem to contest enthusiastically if what he's heard through the walls indicate.)

-but he DOES give you this look

- and asks a few slightly personal questions, bc what the fuck how do you fuck THAT hard.

- mainly to embarrass you.

- habit thinks your discomfort is funny so even if you try to get him to stop he won't.

- speaking of discomfort- when he's in foreplay is non existent, he'll literally pull your pants and boxers down and fuck you whenever. His dick produces enough lube for it not to hurt too bad. But it's not comfortable.

- he's broken the bed too many times to count, you've tried metal bedframes, you've tried springs, you've tried a water bed (that's not a story you like to talk about), you've done it all, and every time he fucks you hard enough to destroy it beyond repair.

- if you fuck him expect a noise complaint. His vocal chords are different which means he clicks and purrs and shit but also, loud as shit growls that vibrate the house.

- play with his ears and tail and he'll cum immediately (especially with a well angled strap-on.)

- sloppy head just got sloppier with his ultra long tongue and extra drool. Squirt on his face and he'll keep eating you out! (Call now only for the low low price of your soul and all sense of sanity!)

- after care is him licking cum off your chest and then letting Evan take over because fuck that lovey dovey shit. (he'd marry you if he could)

~^°^~^°^~^°^~^°^~•⁠.̫•~^°^~^°^~^°^~

I tried my best but got carried away and it's not proof read. Uuh hope you enjoyed? Don't kill me.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

For You, I'd Paint the World Red

Prompt: They hadn't meant to do it. They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic. But they couldn't help it. And maybe, just maybe... they were glad they did it. Or the one where MC destroys an entire coven of witches and adopts a kid on the way.

Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

TW: Arson, implied child abuse, please let me know if there is anything else I should add.

AN: Is it just me, or does anyone else get frighteningly vivid dreams that they turn into fanfics so they can share this weird cocktail of feelings and emotions with everyone who's interested? This is very self-indulgent, btw. I just want MC to be allowed to go crazy sometimes. Feral even. We believe in murderous MC supremacy in this house.

Elliot Crowe belongs to my absolute darling of a friend @doodlboy <3 thank you for letting me use your mc in this little thing. This will also be a series of sorts, so please look forward to that ^^

"This is the last one MC."

(e/c) eyes looked up at the sorcerer. Elliot smiled, earning a sigh of relief in return from Solomon's prized apprentice. A very tired, ready-to-fall-asleep-standing apprentice.

"I'm glad," they yawned, stretching their arms over their head as they followed him to the transportation array. "I swear, once I'm done, I'm heading to back home and sleeping for the next three weeks."

"You've certainly earned it," the man hummed, offering his hand, like the gentleman he was. The two stepped onto the array, Elliot activating it with a simple incantation.

A few seconds later, the pair found themselves in front of the last coven's mansion. The massive structure was creeping into the nearby forest, where the younger of the two could make out glowing spectres darting through the trees.

"Tastefully decorated," Elliot remarked, drawing their attention back to the imposing building in front of them. It looked like a normal mansion, from what they could see; nothing particularly stood out a first glance. But there was a slight feeling of difference, something only those sensitive to magic would notice. They had been getting this feeling at nearly every coven they visited.

MC was glad that these visits to the supernatural were once every twenty years. The aim of these 'inspections' was to make sure that the other supernatural members of the world upheld their end of the various treaties and contracts signed by them with the Sorcerer's Society.

MC had met Elliot a few times before through Solomon. Elliot Crowe was the apprentice of one of Solomon's old friends, and almost like a son to the white-haired man. This meant that the sorcerer often checked up on him, resulting in the two young humans bonding over the woes of apprenticeship and making fun of Solomon's age, much to his chagrin.

This friendship was what lead to the two pairing up when the audits were announced. Elliot and MC were chosen to inspect the covens of witches who practised magic under the Sorcerers Society's careful supervision, both major and minor.

All those they had visited up till now were incredibly interested in helping humans at best, and wanting absolutely nothing to do with anyone outside their coven at worst. Either way, it was a somewhat ideal first time doing this for them, even if it was a bit tedious.

They weren't kidding about sleeping for 3 weeks. Belphies pact mark was glowing faintly, almost as if recognizing their wish to indulge in his sin.

Elliot cleared his throat. His eyes locked onto theirs, an uncharacteristic seriousness in them that startled MC enough to chase away their fatigue momentarily. A shiver went up their spine as they felt him put up a magical charm to avoid any eavesdroppers from hearing his next words.

"The coven we're inspecting now," he began, his tone low and firm, "is the one the Society is most wary of, MC. The witches here are known to have made and to look for ways to make, pacts with a large number of demons."

"While most of their pacts are lesser demons, they have a contract with someone rather important in the Devildom. Someone you know quite well."

They didn't have to ask whom. In all the their years of staying at the Devildom, they knew only one notable demon who had a pact- wait, contract?

Elliot seemed to have sensed their confusion as he clarified, "Despite what many think, Mammon didn't actually make a pact with the witches. He signed a contract, presumably one that acts almost like a pact and has nearly the same pull. For what, nobody knows."

They did. They knew exactly why Mammon signed such a disadvantageous contract. But it wasn't their place to spill his secrets. Instead they asked, "Does the Society know what are the conditions of the contract?"

"No," Elliot frowned, his displeasure on not knowing more showing clearly on his face. "No, they don't. The covens are entitled to privacy and secrecy when it comes to things like contracts with demons as long as they're not wreaking havoc on humans. As long as no humans are hurt, the Society mostly lets them be." His voice drops down to a whisper, even though there is no chance of anyone overhearing them because of the charm he'd cast earlier. "But recently, there has been a large number of missing human cases in this area. And well, this particular coven has always been a little shady."

"That's rich, coming from you," MC snorted, elbowing Elliot lightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. Elliot graced them with an exasperated smile. "Very funny, but that's not the point. Now listen carefully. Once we go inside, I will need you to distract them-"

"... Don't tell me I have to dress in drag and do the hula.."

"As funny as it would be, no. Make small talk, use some of your 'little human' charm on them," Elliot hummed. "Whatever you need to do to make sure that you are the only one they pay attention to. Make it seem like you are novice to all of this, as unthreatening as possible. Make them underestimate you."

"Hm. Sounds like something I can do."

"Good. I'll try to slip away unnoticed at a point to actually investigate, so don't worry if you can't see me."

"What do you want out of this Elliot? Or more accurately, what does the Society want?"

"Some proof that their suspicions are right about the coven." A reason to exterminate them went unsaid.

"Alright. I'll do my best."

"You always do."

"And this, is our archives. Please come in, dearest sorcerers."

MC took a big breath and did as they were told, quickly stepping into the room. Their jaw was aching from the dopey smile they had plastered on ever since entering the premises. Just a little longer, they thought to themself, thinking back to how they had lost sight of Elliot halfway into their tour, the coven head not even realizing.

For a coven potentially doing shady things, they sure were lax with their security.

Melvara, the coven head, finally seemed to notice Solomon's absence. "Um, where is Sir Elliot, if I may ask?"

"Oh, he said he needed to use the restroom. He'll be here soon, but wow! This room is huge!" MC grinned, spinning lightly in place as if trying to take in everything. Truthfully speaking, it was not much. They lived in the Devildom with 7 very wealthy brothers, a demon prince who took pleasure in spoiling his friends, and a demon butler who was more attentive and observant than anyone they had ever known. Their mentor was arguably the best sorcerer alive, if a little eccentric, and they had endeared themself to even angels. Needless to say, they were spoiled rotten when it came to once in a lifetime experiences.

Thankfully, Melvara seemed to buy their act, giving them a proud smile. "I'm glad you think so. Now, how about we have some tea while we wait for Sir Elliot to come back? The archives are the last stop before the Forest of a Thousand Spectres, after all."

They hummed, sitting down at the seat offered to them, eyes still taking in everything down to the last detail. Elliot's words had assured them that this would be one report that would require them to go into heavy detail.

The door to the archives opened for the second time.

(E/c) eyes turned to the witch that entered the room, head respectfully bowed and voice reverent as she presented them with tea and snacks. They gave her a sweet smile, watching in carefully veiled amusement as she blushed and nearly spilled the hot beverage. It was cute how a simple smile was enough to put people at ease. After a few hurried apologies and not-so-subtle glances at them, the witch left the room. For a few minutes, there was blissful silence.

"Say, sorcerer MC?"

"Yes?"

"Pardon my forwardness, but I had heard that you have pacts with all seven of the avatars of sin?"

MC hummed, a pleasant smile on their face. "I do," they said, noting the interest in her eyes. Melvara leaned slightly forward, her eyes gleaming with something that made them pause for a second. Right, don't underestimate the other party, they thought to themself chidingly.

"An admirable feat. May I be so bold as to.. offer you some advice?"

Did they really look that gullible?

"Of course, I would love to learn from my elders."

They hadn't meant to do it.

They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic.

But they couldn't have helped it.

Not when Elliot burst into the archive room, eyes filled with disdain and murderous intent; holding an unconscious girl in his arms. A very familiar child, one they had yet to meet face to face but had seen plenty of pictures of.

They watched with dark satisfaction as flames engulfed the accursed manor and the forest around it. Screams of the witches stuck inside echoed into the darkness, and MC instinctively covered the ear of the girl who now lay in their arms, still unconscious. The few who had no hand in any of the heinous crimes their brethren had committed cowered somewhere behind them.

The Forest of a Thousand Spectres never looked as hauntingly beautiful as it did now.

A hand on their shoulder had them instinctively cradle the girl closer to their chest. A side glance at Elliot, who had the same blank look on his face. "You can go home MC. I'll report this myself," he said, voice barely above a whisper but firm. Not a suggestion then.

MC nodded, the only indication that they had heard him. Elliot sighed. "What.. are you thinking of doing about her, MC?"

"I'm taking her home."

"She's is the only living witness to the atrocities this coven committed. The Society will wish to talk to her."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Another sigh. "Very well. I'll see you after I've reported the incident and" -he looked over to the terrified witches, the innocent ones, who shrank away the moment his gaze was placed on them- "taken care of them."

"Sure," they said, tearing their eyes away from the flames for a just moment to watch Elliot teleport himself and the witches away, presumably to the Society's headquarters.

They did the same moments later, appearing in their room. MC carefully lowered the girl onto their bed, gentle hands adjusting the blankets to offer comfort and warmth. Satisfied with their work, they pulled a chair close to the bed and sat on it. A breathless chuckle escaped from their lips as they felt the slight trembling in their hands. Their eyes scanned the teenager, sleeping soundly under Elliot's recovery spell.

The fact that a simple recovery spell made her fall unconscious spoke volumes about the pain she had suffered.

MC brushed a strand of hair away from her face, vaguely thinking about Mammon's reaction when he finds out exactly what the sweet little girl had been through. They stole another glance at her, then picked up their DDD.

S.S Audit Stuff (Lucifer, Solomon, Elliot and you)

You: Lucifer. Solomon.

You: We need to talk.

You: Meet me in my room.

[iloveyanderes]

What I think of every bsd character (some of them I don't know so I'll be making wild guesses about them) also I got all these names off a wiki and sometimes there not exactly spelt right.

Fukuzawa: nice cat loving man who I respect

Yasano: best doctor in the world, would not recommend though

Atsushi: my cute little tiger boy🥺💕

Tanizaki:I kinda like to pretend he doesn't have a sister

Kunikida: dazais number one target

Kenji: adorable, would protect with my life

Kyouka: don't dislike I just don't really feel her

Dazai: suicidal maniac, best singer ever

Ranpo: I love him, smart but dumb, I would give him all of my food.

Katai: I have no idea who he is but he looks like he never leaves his bed

Naomi: I like to pretend she doesn't have a brother

Kirako: she looks nice

Mori: I fucking hate him, no pedophiles allowed near anyone

Elise: girlboss, someone get her the fuck away from Mori.

Ace: looks flashy

Chuuya: love him, small boy with nice hair and the best hat in existence

Rando: looks very random

Koyo: idk man, she looks powerful

Paul: where chuuya got his style

Akutagawa: in need of dazai approval

Higuchi: was annoying at first but she grew on me

Albatross: looks like he's constantly in a disco party

Doc: bad haircut supreme

Iceman: looks like a fireman

Lippmann: invests in great lips

Piano man: is great at playing the piano and knows it

Ryuro: this guy will die of lung cancer

Gin: is okay

Tachihara: I know who you really are

Karma: I know nothing about him except that Fyodor got to him

Yumeno: I'll stay on their good side

Kajii: I know he likes bombs and lemons

Oda: love him, fellow ginger, love his ability, without him this story would have never really began or at least Atsushi wouldn't be the Mc.

Ango: uhhhhhhhhh, cool I guess don't really like him

Scott Fitzgerald: the entire guild is probably his sugar baby

Poe: love Karl, fellow introvert, probably gets billions of dollars from writing x reader fanfics, I'd pay him any amount

Lovecraft: the only author I actually knew about before reading this book

John steinback: kinda looks like he could be kenjis distant cousin

Lucy: like her just not really attracted to her character

Margaret: I know nothing about this character but I despite the way her name is written, I prefer margrett it sounds more like it

Mark Twain: twains out of bad situations

Nathaniel: is more likeable because his name is closest to my fav boy name Nathan.

Fyodor: somehow I have a completely neutral opinion of him, I don't like or dislike him.

Nikolai: this may be bias but I absolutely adore white haired characters that have braids, there my type of people and I automatically like them, bonus points if there unhinged

Sigma: bro is the official Y/N I feel bad for him, the absolute shit he went through, also he has the best and most realistic facial expressions in all of bsd

Bram: I like him, I seriously hope him and that small red head gets a brother/sister relationship.

Oguri: studio bones got to him

Agatha: her name is like one step away from being majestic

Fukichi: bro is the reason why Kenji and Atsushi got hurt alot, not to mention he's planning world wide terrorism, and it was all because he got rejected by his childhood crush(this is totally what happened)

Teruko:my fav bsd character, love her absolute girlboss, pls I beg of you let me be your bestie, I will sell my soul

Jouno: pretty good, I love that he put others above his own self pleasures, also kinda terrifying in some manga panels and In others hes so cute

Tecchou: cute little boy, love him, also I ship him with jouno, it's mandatory if you enter this fandom, will probably end up being bestie with kenji

Aya: biggest girlboss in this entire series, hate her dad, she is best girl, if you dis her I will track you down and find you.

This is all the characters I got a the enger for, hope you enjoyed

[animasola86]

The Darkness Within: Tom's Reward

Notes: Chapter 9 of The Darkness Within is here, two months after the last one, oops! As usual, I am giving you the smut part here, but I'm encouraging you to read the whole chapter over on AO3! Thank you and enjoy!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!mc // Genre: Smut // Words: 2.7k

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content (fingering, vaginal sex, bj)! It's rough, it's Tom Riddle, what do you expect?

Synopsis: After giving Genevieve the Dark Mark, Tom decides to indulge in her deepest desire and lets her have it, maybe not quite how she had expected it.

This is part of my Sebastian Sallow/f!mc fanfic The Darkness Within. To read smut with her and Sebastian, check these out: Chapter 7 smut + Chapter 8 angsty smut!

Last warning: Dark smut below the cut! Enemies of the heir, beware!

Context: MC dies at the Battle of Hogwarts, Sebastian resurrects her and they both land 62 years in the future, but separate from each other. He ends up becoming an Auror and she meets Tom Riddle and gets pulled into his cause/charm. This scene takes place after he gives her the Dark Mark to ensure her allegiance to him. (She is 21 here and he is 10 years older.)

Excerpt of Chapter 9:

"Tom's Reward"

With her forearm still tingling and carefully propped against the back of the sofa, she found herself lying on her back, her chest rising and falling fast as she watched Tom slowly unbuttoning his shirt. She still felt a little delirious from the pain of his branding and the sensation that had been their first kiss, no matter how short it had been, and seeing him now, actually engaging in those things he didn't deem worthy of his time, left her breathless and with her head spinning even more.

She blinked and suddenly he was right on top of her, his hands holding her face as he leaned down to close his lips around hers. Her gasp was the culmination of all those feelings she had harboured for him over the years, all the longing and lusting and need for him. Finally feeling his hands on her, his mouth, his lips and his tongue, his weight and his body, his knees pushing against her thighs as he forced her legs open, it quickly overwhelmed her enough to surrender herself to him completely.

She didn't even wonder that, despite his obvious aversion against any physical touch or desire, he knew exactly what he was doing. He kissed her demandingly, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, and pressed his pelvis against hers, and even through the layers of clothes that were still between them she could feel his excitement for her pressing right against her core.

She'd assumed it was because of her, but unbeknownst to her it was just his desire to take her, make her his, bask in the power he had over her. Tom didn't want to bring her pleasure or satisfy her needs, he wanted to own her, dominate her, bend her to his will, and most of all, he wanted to feel that power surging through her – and what better way to experience that than by becoming one with the vessel that held it.

Because that was what she was to him: a body sheltering something that was useful to him, very, very useful, if he played his cards right. And he knew he did, when she started moaning softly beneath him, just from having him kiss her. She was putty in his hands and knowing that only spurred his desire to claim her even more.

He leaned back then and looked at her, and all he could see behind those brown irises was lust. Lust for him, lust for the things they were about to do, lust to indulge in these activities he had kept her from thinking all these years. She was very imaginative, he had to give her that, if he would have the sense for it, he would have blushed under the ideas this little girl kept in her pretty head. He took inspiration in her thoughts for a little longer, before he gave her a smile and another peck and then leaned back once more.

She watched him breathlessly as he moved back, settling between her legs. He didn't waste time to undress her the old-fashioned way, he just flicked his finger, not even his wand as she noticed with growing admiration, and she felt her clothes disappearing into thin air. And suddenly she lay completely bare before him, her chest rising and falling fast, making her breasts move in a steady rhythm, and her legs were splayed and unable to close and hide her most precious place as he was still kneeling between them.

Under other circumstances she would have felt embarrassed and mortified to be this vulnerable and exposed, but under Tom's dark gaze she felt oddly calm, ready to do anything with and for him. And he knew as much, she could tell. He was watching her closely, his eyes wandering over her naked body, taking in every little detail. When he looked directly into her eyes, she froze on the spot, completely mesmerized by the void that were his dark eyes.

She didn't even notice his touch at first, only when he would curl his fingers inside her did she realize he had pushed them past her folds and straight into her wetness and the feeling left her breathless. It wasn't just his fingers, it was what he was doing – and she couldn't be sure, but she felt tingles like tiny electric shocks surging through her body as if he would channel his magic right against her most sensitive spots, only increasing the sensation.

Her moans came sudden and loud, her whole body convulsing under his touch, and while she was consumed by pleasure, her head spinning and full of static, he kept going, fingering her to the brink of insanity, as she thrashed her body into the cushions of the couch, only held in place by his other hand on her stomach, whose thumb was pressed right against her clit, issuing the same kind of magical touch as he rubbed it roughly.

Orgasm after orgasm rolled over her and she had no idea how she was still functioning under the pressure of having her body going through all these types of stimulations. She felt utterly spent when he would finally let go of her, not that she would have noticed right away as the tremors were still shuddering through her every nerve and limb.

Breathing heavily, her lips parted and trembling and dry, she opened her eyes slightly and found him sitting on the edge of the couch, watching her, his wet fingers held out in front of him. Somehow she knew what he wanted and without any word shared between them, she sat up and cradled his hand between her shaking fingers as if it was his most priced possession. For her it was, having brought her these amazing feelings still resonating through her lower body.

Her eyes were on his face when she leaned closer and brought her lips to his fingertips, tasting herself on his skin as she sucked his fingers into her mouth one at a time, swirling her tongue around them feverishly until she deemed them clean enough. He watched her almost curiously, no other emotion evident on his handsome features. As she was about to lower his hand, he insisted on pushing two of his fingers past her lips and deeper into her mouth.

She felt him caressing her tongue and the inside of her cheeks as she sat very still and let him explore her mouth, and she didn't even flinch when he moved his fingers deeper, pressing against the back of her throat, teasing it with his fingertips. Holding his gaze, she successfully fought the urge to gag around him and he rewarded her with a dark smile as he continued forcing his fingers deeper. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes and she held her breath, her entire body stiffening under the sensation.

But she didn't fight it, of course she didn't. She was his to do whatever with. And he knew that very well. Suddenly she felt his other hand around her throat, squeezing against his fingers lodged inside her. Her eyes stared at him pleadingly as the urge to gasp or gag or do anything against his literal choke-hold grew almost unbearable. He stared right back, not giving in just yet. Feeling more than light-headed, she raised her hands to claw at his wrists before even holding them there felt too much for her to handle.

Just as her grip loosened as her body was about to fall into the tight embrace of unconsciousness, he let go of her throat and pulled his fingers out, urging her to breathe. She was barely able to do so, gasping soundlessly, then coughing violently, her entire body shaking against whatever it had just experienced. His wet fingers grazed her cheek and she calmed down slowly, her eyelids fluttering as she looked at him.

“You're such a good girl,” he praised her as he leaned closer to press his mouth against her trembling lips, his voice causing her to smile despite the slight discomfort in her throat.

In the haze nestling inside her head, she then felt him moving her, laying her down on her back again as he grabbed her thighs and pushed her legs upwards against her torso, holding her wide open as he positioned himself right against her. She heard the faint rustle of fabric, her head still spinning, and she barely registered him pressing his tip against her core. Her hands snaked around her legs as she hooked them around the back of her knees and held them in place, her feet dangling in the air as she watched him closely.

His cold gaze was on her, no emotion whatsoever on his pale face, as he crawled over her, one hand lining himself up with her entrance, the other propped next to her hip to support his body as he leaned over her slightly. With his eyes fixed on hers, he then lowered himself and in a swift, almost harsh motion drove himself right into her tight warmth. She moaned, shuddering under the intrusion as he buried his cock as deep as possible, pushing his entire weight down onto her pelvis.

He then shifted against her, leaned on one knee, while his other leg moved to the floor, giving him more leverage to start moving against her as he grabbed her thighs firmly and folded her legs almost brutally against her, before he settled into a fast rhythm that knocked any remaining air right out of her. Her noises mixed with the slapping of skin against skin as he thrust into her at an ever-growing pace, deep and fast and hard, in and out until she could barely feel anything any more.

She was a whimpering mess beneath him, pushed into the cushions by the powerful snaps of his hips, her breaths too erratic to let any new air into her aching lungs, leaving her breathless and light-headed, and yet she felt like she had never felt before as he quickly brought her back to that sensation of pure bliss. Every thrust moved her up the sofa, every downwards motion pulled her back towards him, his hands bruising her skin, his girth filling and stretching her, scraping past those special spots that made her toes curl up painfully.

Her heart felt as if it would explode inside her chest at any second as her insides convulsed and her walls tightened around him rhythmically, gripping him, squeezing him, pulling him in deeper. Amidst the blindingly bright pleasure exploding within her and her ear- and room-filling moans and feeble attempts to breathe, she then heard a groan coming from the man above her, and for a moment she just stared at him in awe, seeing him so affected by what they were doing, his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed in concentration and his lips pressed tightly together. There was even a faint hint of a blush on his high cheekbones.

When he noticed her gaze, the tension on his face shifted into an almost soft expression, causing her to feel an immense rush of warmth flooding her insides. It might have been his seed pouring out of him as he came inside her with a deep shuddering of his hips as he halted his movements for a moment, or it was something else she was too afraid to name. Whatever it was, it made her lean up past the tight grip he had on her folded legs and once he let go of her, she was able to sit up and grab his face, before she pulled him down to press her trembling lips to his, kissing him through his release.

He kept moving against her, slower now, one of his hands finding the back of her head as he held her tightly in place, kissing her back just as eagerly. Once he stopped twitching inside her, she was almost disappointed that he pulled out immediately, painting her walls with his seed as he did so, leaving the last drops of his cum on her heated skin as he leaned back. She saw him breathing heavier when he let go of her face, watching her closely before his eyes moved down between her legs where his release was spilling from her quivering core.

Something dark washed over his features then and she had barely time to react when he suddenly pushed his fingers back into her hole, the squelching sound quite obscene even in her pleasure riddled mind. She shivered against his touch and frowned slightly as she realized what he was doing. He was scraping his seed out of her. His fingers moved deep and curled inside her and it was not to give her more pleasure, he was actively trying to clean her tight channel.

Just as she was wondering why he would do that and why with his fingers no less, he grabbed her chin with his other hand and made her look at him, before he forced her jaw open. She obeyed, not that she had any other choice, and gasped deeply when he would push his cum covered fingers into her mouth. His gaze was dark and she understood immediately as she began to flick her tongue around his digits, licking his salty seed right off his skin, ignoring the tear falling past her lashes.

Once he deemed his fingers to be clean, he would shove them back past her wet folds, scooping up more for her to clean and swallow, his grip on her chin never easing. She endured the procedure with her heart racing and her body quivering and when he would finally release her chin, she inhaled sharply, trying to relax, only for him to grab the back of her head and push her face right against his groin.

She whimpered against him, scrambling into a more comfortable position to be able to focus on the new task he had for her. With shaking hands she cradled his half-hardened cock between her fingers and started licking it gingerly, tasting more of his bitter seed, yet the more she put on her tongue, the better it felt as it slid down her hurting throat. Breathing through her nose, she barely noticed his tightening grip in her hair as he pushed her further onto him until her lips were wrapped around his shaft as his tip scraped against the back of her throat.

Too numb to gag around him, she focused on pressing her tongue against him, feeling him growing harder and thicker inside her as he started moving her head back and forth to give him the friction he apparently desired. Her hands gripping his thighs, she let him use her to his liking and he did so without hesitation, not letting her catch her breath or rest her aching jaw or swallow the saliva pooling around him.

He even started pushing his hips against her as well, forcing his length deeper and deeper as he angled her head to allow the motion. All she could do was whimper and squeeze her eyes shut as more and more tears fell from her lashes, and not even her fingernails digging into his skin stopped him from pushing in and out of her mouth at a rapid pace. Only when she felt him twitching against her tongue would he release his grip on her and allowed her to pull back, and as she took deep shuddering breaths he wasted no time to shoot his load right into her face.

She flinched against it, feeling it hitting her cheeks and nose and eyebrows, before he pushed his throbbing tip back past her lips and emptied himself right onto her tongue. He held her jaw tightly, not allowing her to escape the grasp, as he filled her up more and more until it spilled past his length and down her chin, and this time she couldn't help but gag against the sheer amount of it. He pushed her head back then and she spluttered and coughed, trying to swallow what he had given her.

While she was still trying to regain her composure, she noticed him standing up. Looking up at him, she met his dark gaze. His pale face was hard again, no emotion whatsoever on his handsome features as his eyes wandered over her soiled face and body. “Clean yourself up,” was all he said to her, before he turned around and left through a door into the deeper parts of Borgin and Burkes.

End notes: And I thought I'd enjoy writing a Dark Sebastian, when all I had to write for was Tom in his natural habitat! I feel almost sorry for poor Genevieve...

Picture of Tom by the lovely @esolean!

[ AO3 ] [ fanfiction masterlist ]

[bi-focal12]

Idolish7 fanfic- Ringing Hearts <3

-Nagi x Mitsuki, introspective Mitsuki, fluff, slight angst-

Mitsuki lay on his side in bed, idly swiping through his phone. The only light left on in the room was the small square being projected onto his weary face. Mitsuki should be sleeping at this hour but he couldn’t bring himself to settle, allowing the soft music pouring from the speaker to create a more melancholic atmosphere than the day deserved.

Mitsuki was glad to be getting so much MC work lately. Really, he was.  

It was just difficult to set aside the fact that their fans thought he talked too much, knowing that Mitsuki had only made it onto i7 as part of a package deal. 

But Mitsuki knew better to dwell on that, so he swiped.   

Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.

-David Foster Wallace   

Mitsuki lingered on this slide long enough for the music in the background to loop, then he laughed quietly.  

How odd was it to go seeking a distraction and stumble across a mirror, instead?

Mitsuki held the moderation Yamato had given him close to his heart, but this- this desperation to keep a white-knuckled grip on the things he held dear- was something written into the very marrow of Mitsuki’s bones. 

It was what kept him signing up for auditions- always reaching, even if it meant his hand might be slapped mercilessly away, again and again. It’s what kept him up at night when he ached from the brutal sting of rejection. It’s what had spurred Iori to glue them together in the first place, if only to spare Mitsuki the pain. 

Gratitude and insecurity were glued in equal measure to that memory, but now that they were here Mitsuki knew he would never let go of i7 without engraving his desperate desire for their success beneath his fingernails, first. 

The thought of ever being dragged away from the group was an uneasy one, though, so Mitsuki swiped again.  

Achilles did not slur my name, as people often did, running it together as if in a hurry to be rid of it. Instead, he rang each syllable:

Pa-tro-clus.

-Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

Again, Mitsuki paused. An image of Nagi’s shining face poked its way into his thoughts, unbidden, whining for Mitsuki to watch Magical Cocona with him. 

Mit-su-ki, Nagi always said. Drawing the syllables out so the shape of Mitsuki’s name lingered on his lips. 

Thoughtful, Mitsuki raised a finger to his own lips and pressed down. 

Mitsuki was used to people wanting to be rid of him. Used to people batting away his outstretched hand in search of something more. Something better. 

No one had ever lingered on Mitsuki, before. 

The thought brought warmth to Mitsuki’s face and he slammed his phone down on the bed, throwing his room into a sudden, searing darkness.

Mitsuki’s heart pounded against his chest- a wild, fluttering thing- and he felt stripped bare, his racing thoughts thrown into sharp relief without the soft haze of the phone screen to blur them.

It was so warm, all of a sudden.  

Had someone messed with the thermostat? 

Surely that’s all it was, and not…

Mitsuki carefully grasped his phone, tilting the screen back towards himself. 

he rang each syllable, it said. Pa-tro-clus. 

A nervous smile tugged at Mitsuki’s burning cheeks, a gentle weightlessness skittering through his stomach. 

Mit-su-ki, Nagi always said. 

Mit-su-ki. 

Surely Nagi knew the emphasis didn’t belong in the middle of his name, and yet…

And yet, he rang each syllable. 

Mitsuki pressed his face into his pillow, carefully cradling the belltower resonance that had been struck each time his name was spoken with such care, building and building and building until the brass echo brought blood rushing to the surface of Mitsuki’s smile.

Mit-su-ki, Nagi always said- sparkling and golden and princelike. 

“Nagi Rokuya,” Mitsuki whispered into his pillow. “Na-gi.”

The music on Mitsuki’s phone looped gently again. 

Mitsuki carefully rang each syllable.

“Ro-ku-ya.”

Delighted laughter bubbled past his lips, swallowed by the walls keeping watch over Mitsuki's feelings. 

Maybe…maybe that’s what Iori had meant the other day. When Mitsuki was sitting on the couch with Nagi, watching the man far more than the anime, and he’d placed a hand on Mitsuki’s shoulder, leaning down to whisper, It’s okay, onii-san. 

Maybe it would be, Mitsuki thought. 

Maybe Nagi Rokuya was another one of those things Mitsuki wouldn’t let go of without a fight.