#this is like an invitation for the world to judge me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

navybrat817 · 5 months ago

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Where Worlds Collide - Intro

Pairing: Silver Fox!Sugar Daddy!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader

Summary: Your boss forces you to be eye candy for an alpha at a gala, but things take a turn for the better when you meet another alpha. Does it matter that you don't belong in his world?

Word Count: Over 9.2k

Warnings: Smut, v. fingering, possessive behavior, dirty talk, instant connection, A/B/O dynamics, talk of bonding, misogyny, unspecified age gap, insecurities, world building, choking (not our reader… yet), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I'm pretty proud of the intro to this world, lovelies! @whisperlullaby, @targaryenvampireslayer, @tavners, here it is! Ant thanks to @queenoftheworldisdead as well. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Soft music drifted from the ballroom as you stepped into the lavish venue. You’d never been to a gala before. Your family wasn’t wealthy enough to receive an invitation, nor did your last name carry any influence. The only reason you were there tonight was because of the alpha on your arm, all thanks to your boss’s insistence that you accompany him.

It was an evening of style, grace, and luxury, and you didn’t belong.

You held your breath as you walked deeper into the ballroom, the glittering chandeliers casting a refined glow over everything. A mix of alphas, betas, and omegas socialized and gossiped, their glamorous evening wear glittering under the lights. You had designed a few of the dresses and suits, but none of the people wearing them would recognize you. The alpha you worked for always took the credit. Complaining about it wouldn’t help. After all, you’d only sound like an ungrateful omega and hundreds of other omegas would beg to take your place.

You couldn’t wait for the day you quit.

Chet’s grip on your arm brought you back to the present. “Keep quiet and smile,” he ordered, a haughty expression on his face as he led you through the place. You didn't want to judge all men named Chet, but you had pegged him as a douchebag the second he went in for his fitting and he was proving you right. You couldn't even enjoy that he was objectively handsome since his personality made him less attractive.

“I am smiling,” you said. Wrinkling your nose at the overwhelming mix of scents and expensive colognes and perfumes, you did your best to make your smile look natural. The servers looked like they were doing the same as they served everyone. It was strange how a room so enormous could make someone feel so small.

“Then keep smiling,” Chet ordered through his grin. “What you do or don’t do is a reflection of me.”

“I know,” you muttered. Because it was all about him and you were just his omega arm candy. You really should’ve demanded overtime pay from your boss, but that conversation wouldn’t have ended well.

“As it stands, perhaps I made the right choice by bringing you,” he said, nodding to a few older gentlemen. “I can smell their envy.”

You did notice a few more men looking your way. A few women as well, not hiding that they were whispering about you. Trying to hide your vulnerability, you held yourself the way you thought a goddess would. You also held yourself with pride since the dress you wore was your own design. A sleeveless black dress with a middle slit, it was bold and alluring. The glitter throughout the fabric made you shine like stars in the night sky. The finishing touch was the matching collar, a tasteful way to protect you from any alpha who even thought about marking you.

Reaching up instinctively to run a hand over your collar, you felt your heart ache. Your inner omega wanted a mark, but the thought of being tied to someone was somewhat terrifying. You respected omegas who wanted to go the traditional route by staying home and being submissive, but you didn’t want to be submissive outside of the bedroom. You wanted a partner who would view you as an equal.

Your false confidence didn’t last long when Chet’s grip on you tightened, your body immediately going stiff. You’d have to take a long shower and dry clean your dress just to get rid of his scent. “Loosen up,” he ordered.

“Maybe I’d loosen up if you weren’t digging your fingers in,” you whispered.

“You’re my date. It’s my right to touch you,” he sneered. He had no right. It didn't matter if he was an alpha and he was rich. The urge to slap him across his face was so strong your palm itched. “So, get the stick out of your ass.”

A shiver rolled down your spine when you heard a low growl come from another alpha. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone looking directly at you. It probably had nothing to do with you because why would anyone care if an alpha was bossing you around?

Chet’s hold on you loosened nonetheless. “And just so we’re clear, you have no intention of sleeping with me?” he asked as an omega in a revealing dress sauntered by. Your date didn’t bother to hide how he was undressing her with his eyes.

“That’s right,” you said. You made it clear to your boss that sex wasn’t an option, and he was oddly on your side. Maybe he thought Chet could sway you if he tried hard enough. If he even thought of using some sort of alpha command on you, nothing would stop you from lashing out and making him sorry.

“Then you’ll have no problem finding your own ride home should I choose to leave with someone else,” he said.

“So, I can’t make you look bad, but you can leave with another omega?” you asked.

“You got it. You’re smarter than you look.” He tapped your nose with a condescending grin. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

The prick was pushing his luck. “Listen you-”

“Chet, my boy! Good to see you!” A man interrupted, uncaring that you were speaking.

“Shane,” Chet smiled. “Always a pleasure.”

The bulky alpha shamelessly looked you over, his scent almost making you choke on your next breath. “And who might this be?”

“Pretty, isn't she?” Chet cut in before you could answer, puffing his chest out. “Doesn't say much, but I’m not exactly interested in her conversational skills, am I?”

You bit your tongue when they chuckled. Be seen and not heard. It was insulting.

“Come join me, but leave the omega,” Shane said unapologetically, taking another look at your chest. What would happen if you threw a drink in his face? “As entertaining as she would be, we have business to discuss, and we don’t need the distraction.”

“Of course,” Chet smiled, turning you toward the bar as Shane walked away. “Since he doesn't want you around, why don't you take advantage of the free drinks until I get back?”

“I’m not-”

“And not that you’d have any extra cash to tip, but it’s taken care of,” he continues, your face hot at the assumption that you couldn't afford to tip the staff. “Just behave and try not to make a fool out of either of us, you got it? Wouldn’t want your boss to hear about it if you do.”

Biting back a retort, you freed yourself from his grip. There wasn’t enough liquor at this party to get you through the rest of this evening. “Don’t worry about me, alpha. Go have fun,” you said, your eyes burning as he walked away. A few heads turned your way when your scent soured. It wasn’t enough that you had to attend an event where you didn’t belong, but your date just had to rub salt in the open wound by reminding you of such. “Fucking asshole,” you muttered, making your way over to the bar to order a drink.

Plastering a smile back on your face when you got the bartender’s attention, you ordered a whiskey on the rocks. You wanted something that would go down smooth but leave a little burn. You also preferred opting to watch the bartender make a drink in front of you instead of grabbing a glass of already poured champagne. The drinks were likely fine, but better safe than sorry. And like hell would you accept a drink from your sorry excuse for a “date” if he offered you one. He was lucky you-

An intoxicating scent hit you out of nowhere, making you grip the bar as you inhaled. Plums, whiskey, sandalwood. The blended aromas had your mouth watering, and a whimper threatened to slip out. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Desire burned in your stomach. As quickly as the scent excited you, it seemed to wrap itself around you in a soothing embrace. How could a smell leave you hot and bothered and also feel like a hug?

No… It couldn’t be your mate.

You caught a small movement out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped breathing when you found a pair of blue eyes fixed on you that belonged to a devilishly handsome man. He leaned against the wall, his wool-blend black suit fitting his thick body like second skin. Streaks of gray lined his luscious brown hair and peppered his beard, too. He looked like the kind of alpha who would have omegas kneeling at his feet, and it frightened you how badly you wanted to get on your hands and knees and crawl toward him.

His. Mine.

Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he kept his eyes on you as he sipped the expensive liquor. You wanted to look away but couldn't as the air crackled between you. He had you under some sort of trance you couldn't snap yourself out of. As frightening as it was to have a scent hit you so strongly, a feeling like this hit you square in the chest, the thought of him staring at another omega that way nearly made you hiss because you didn't want anyone else on the receiving end of those blue eyes.

He smirked like he read your mind and pushed himself off the wall. You did whimper out loud when you realized just how large he was. Dominant, assertive, yet there was something almost playful in his smirk when he finally broke his gaze. You greedily inhaled with the hope of catching more of his scent when he strode toward the nearby balcony, smooth and fluid as a server quickly took the empty tumbler from his hand. The men at the gala were all posturing, but no one could match the confidence of that alpha.

So how were people not surrounding him, begging for a scrap of attention? Was he untouchable among those who deemed themselves untouchable? He certainly didn’t look like the kind of man who chased after anyone. No, people went to him.

He wanted you to follow him, right?

Downing your drink in one gulp, your feet moved before you could stop yourself. “I don’t need this alpha,” you whispered, the words bitter in your mouth as you followed his path. If you were smart, you’d walk the other way and not look back. Yet the thought of never seeing him again made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to examine.

Does he know?

Studies over the years showed that not every bound pair was the same. Some couples felt the bond instantaneously like a firework exploding. Others felt it like a small burn that slowly consumed them over time. For a few, the spark took a long time to ignite. You couldn't ignore this burn if you tried.

You welcomed the slight chill in the air as you stepped onto the large balcony. It was lit up with sparkling lights, yet it didn’t take away from the stars that shone in the sky above. The alpha who caught your eye stood by the railing, alone, like he was looking over a kingdom. You felt foolish for going out there to bother him.

Steeling yourself with false confidence again, you walked over to stand beside him. You weren’t close enough to touch him, wanting to leave him a respectable amount of space. You could always use the excuse that you just needed some fresh air if he asked what you were doing.

Stealing a glance at him, you didn’t want to believe that you had a true connection with this man, that he could be your mate. No way would an omega like you be his match. Would he even want an omega like you? One with dreams to do more, be more?

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice thick like honey and the whiskey you drank. Of course, his voice would be a powerful weapon. But he wasn’t scenting you, or trying to tear your collar off, or doing anything to indicate that he felt the sort of spark you had. Maybe that was for the best.

“It is,” you sighed, looking out at the view. You couldn’t deny the beauty and how much easier it was to breathe since you weren’t surrounded by the suffocating bodies and scents. “It really is something.”

“I was talking about you.”

You whipped your head toward him so quickly you nearly hurt your neck. The flare of heat in his eyes hypnotized you again, but this time you didn’t want him to draw you in. A man of his stature, his power, he could chew you up, spit you out, and leave you a shell of yourself. But seeing him up close, his laugh lines, and the touch of softness in his gaze, you wanted to know all about him and the life he lived.

You were in so much trouble.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“I don't think I’ve seen you at a gala before. I would've remembered you,” he stated. You weren't sure what to say to that. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky if you’d like.”

You blinked a few times. “You’re James Barnes,” you whispered, not having to belong in the inner circle to know who he was.

James Buchanan Barnes. One of the wealthiest alphas in the city, his family came from money and it was no secret that Bucky, as he liked to go by, wasn’t bound to anyone. People assumed that he didn't want to share his wealth with anyone beyond his charitable donations, or that he was either extremely picky in choosing a mate. And here he was talking to you. This was the man you thought could be your mate.

You were in way over your head.

“I am,” he said, looking at you expectantly.

It took a moment, but your name tumbled from your lips as you shifted toward him. He inhaled when a breeze rolled in and you hoped your scent got to him the way his scent got to you. The way his eyes darkened, it had. Your inner omega wanted to purr with delight.

Time stood still when he took your hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure,” he whispered, his lips brushing your knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but…”

“But what?”

You held your breath when he turned your hand and ran his nose along your wrist with a small growl. It was bold, intimate, possessive, and you got impossibly wet from the action. Had Chet or another alpha done that, it would've been a different story. “You smell divine,” he whispered against your skin.

You whined before your inner hackles went up, making him pull his mouth away immediately. He at least had some level of respect and sensed the shift in your stance. “How many omegas have you said that and done that to?” you asked when you had no right to feel jealous.

He didn’t look put off by your question, and he didn’t let go of your hand either. “I’ve come across a few delectable scents before, but I don’t think I’ve ever described anyone as divine,” he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. An intense longing behind his eyes had your knees weak. “I haven’t smelled anyone like you.”

This alpha was telling the truth, but he wasn't a boy scout either. He knew how to fuck, you could tell, and he likely broke hearts without intending to. You didn’t want to be the next victim if a quick fuck was all he was looking for.

“I haven’t smelled anyone like you either,” you admitted, grudgingly pulling away. His heady scent made it hard to concentrate. And standing close to a man who wore a suit that cost more than half a year’s rent was another reminder that you were a girl playing dress up, nothing more. “I should go. I shouldn’t be here.”

Bucky stopped you from turning away, his grip on your arms tender so you wouldn’t feel threatened. “And why is that?”

“Because I don’t belong here, and I don’t expect you to understand that,” you replied.

It was bad enough to let your guard down by following him out there, and you couldn’t let him seduce you more than he already had. You were lucky the very presence of him didn't trigger your heat. And how would your story end? He was a rich alpha, and you were a struggling omega. Was happiness really in the cards?

Your eyes widened when you heard the rumble in his chest, his scent producing a soothing aura that wrapped around you. Your lip trembled slightly as the rumble faded. Bucky could’ve let you walk away, yet he was comforting you. It made you want to cry.

“I may understand better than you think,” he whispered. Did he? Did he feel alone in that crowd of people there? “But help me understand why you feel that way.”

You rapidly blinked to keep the tears at bay. What was there for him to understand? “Okay,” you whispered back. The fact that he wanted you to talk to him meant something. “For starters, that crowd is kind of… well, awful from the short time I observed and interacted with them. They think they’re better than everyone else because they have so much, but they have no right to look down on others.”

The people in the gala simply flaunted what they had without a second thought. Being there made you appreciate your friends and their genuine interactions more. They worked hard for everything they had. They wouldn’t have anything against people born with a silver spoon in their mouths if they showed a little humility.

Bucky's chuckle surprised you. “Money doesn’t equal class, and believe me when I say they aren’t worth taking up any space in your beautiful mind,” he said, giving you a small smile. “To be honest, I came out here to get away from them because, save a select few, they're fucking assholes.”

You found yourself smiling, too. No wonder he has been standing by himself. “Is that the only reason?” you asked curiously, reaching up to touch his perfect hair simply because you could.

He looked at you, a mixture of lust and something soft. Standing like this you felt like a couple. “I may have wanted you to follow me, and I’m glad you did,” he said, his tone calm and casual as butterflies filled your stomach. “You’re the first person I’ve considered approaching in a long time, but you looked a bit upset when you went to the bar. I didn’t think bothering you would win me any favors.”

You exhaled. Was he the alpha who growled when Chet gripped you too tightly? “I…” you shivered when another breeze rolled in.

He shrugged his jacket the moment he spotted you shivered. “May I?” he offered.

You hesitated. Bucky had a powerful scent, and how would it look to Chet if you wore another alpha’s jacket? Chet wasn’t your alpha, but he could run his mouth and get you in trouble with your boss. It didn’t matter that you wanted to quit one day. Today wasn’t that day because you financially weren’t ready. That was the excuse you made up in your head.

But your inner omega wanted Bucky’s scent to surround you and you replied in a small voice, “Yes, please.”

Bucky carefully placed the warm jacket around your shoulders. “I know the crowd bothered you for good reason, but who specifically upset you and how can I fix it?”

“My date,” you answered. You didn't have it in you to lie to him. It also wasn't up to him to fix it.

Bucky hummed, running his hands up and down your arms. It helped warm and relax you. “What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes landing on the collar around your neck. You wondered what he would do if your mating gland was exposed, and you had to push that thought away.

“His name is Chet and he’s discussing business with some alpha.” The change in his scent was subtle. He seemed too confident to be jealous, but he didn’t seem pleased either at the thought of you being with someone else. “They were extremely condescending, and I couldn’t exactly throw a drink in their faces or put them in their place since I’m just an omega.”

Bucky snarled quietly, his eyes blazing. “You’re not just an omega,” he said. He was upset on your behalf. Was he not like other older alphas who wanted omegas to be subservient? “Maybe I should have a chat with them.”

You purred before you could stop yourself. Bucky offering to stand up for you felt better than you wanted to admit. “You don't have to do that,” you said, running your fingers through his hair again. You wanted to soothe him the way he soothed you. “Besides, I’m not really on a date with Chet. He just wanted me to be eye candy for the night.”

Bucky almost snarled again, but raised an eyebrow instead. “And you agreed to that? I have the feeling you aren’t the arm candy type.”

You giggled. He was right about that. “Didn’t really have a choice thanks to my boss,” you told him.

“Your boss? What exactly do you do for work?” he asked carefully.

He asked a lot of questions, but you didn't mind since he seemed genuinely interested. Maybe he assumed you were an escort. “I'm a designer,” you answered, smiling to yourself. “At least, I want to be. I’m just an assistant at the moment.”

“Let me guess. Your boss is an alpha, makes you do the grunt work, and takes the credit?” he mused, humming when you solemnly nodded. “And he convinced you to come here tonight because Chet is a client?”

“Something like that. It was either that or I get fired,” you laughed bitterly. “And if he fired me I’d get blacklisted, then I’d have no job, no money at all, and I’d lose my tiny apartment and…”

His nose wrinkled when you trailed off. You were so embarrassed, and you couldn’t stop your scent from souring. Talking to one of the richest alphas ever about your problems wasn’t something you thought you’d experience tonight, but that soothing rumble and smell came out again to help you breathe easier.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said with a touch of firmness so you knew he didn’t pity you. You could take a lot of things, but not pity.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said, smoothing out some of the fabric on your dress and not wanting to dwell on the topic. “I actually made this,” you told him. It was silly, but you specifically wanted to hear something nice from Bucky to make you feel better, which was bad. You shouldn’t want compliments from him or want him period.

He parted his jacket so he could look you over. Unlike Shane leering at you earlier, Bucky seemed to take in the details of your design with a careful eye. “You made this? It’s stunning,” he said with pride that rivaled yours. You lost your breath when he ran the back of his finger along your torso, heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. “Like you.”

Your mind raced, the heavy weight of his gaze pinning you in place. The longer you stood there, the more you wanted him. You had to snap out of it. “You’re dangerous,” you whispered, shaking your head as his hand fell away. “I should go inside.”

He stepped back, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you replied honestly. Some of his actions were forward, but he wasn’t pushy. He was the sort of predator who probably gently played with his food before he sank his teeth in, yet you weren’t completely afraid of the bite. “Though I’m wondering why you don’t have a date tonight. Keeping your options open?”

Maybe he really did want to live the bachelor life.

The corner of his lip tugged when you narrowed your eyes. “I come to these things to make a short appearance. That’s all,” he explained. Even the wealthy had obligations. “Unlike some alphas my age, I’m not interested in having a date for the sole purpose of eye candy. And because most of the people here are fucking assholes, I don’t usually find anyone to take home.”

“So, you aren’t interested in taking me home?” you tried to tease. If he said no, you could lick your wounds later since you’d likely never see him again. If he said yes, you… Well, you didn’t know what you’d do.

He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close enough that you felt just how big he was. A shudder wracked your body, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you. “I’m very interested in taking you home,” he breathed.

You lifted your eyes to him, his desire matching yours. “I-”

A young giggling couple stumbled out to the balcony reeking of booze. They took a few steps forward and Bucky moved you out of the way before they could crash into you. The ferocious growl he let out made the laughter cease, but it had you purring like a bitch in heat. “Leave,” he ordered, keeping his arms tight around you. The underlying threat in that single word had the couple rushing back inside, but they had effectively ruined the moment.

“I think that alpha almost pissed his pants,” you teased to cut through the tension.

“He’s lucky he didn’t tumble over the railing,” he said, loosening his hold on you and taking in your expression. You felt naked under his stare. “You aren’t ready to leave with me just yet.”

“I’m still here with a ‘date’,” you reminded him to cover up any feelings or doubts in your mind.

Other than Bucky being wealthy, powerful, and smelling like a sinful kind of heaven, you didn’t fully know him. Something within you felt like you did, but going home with him for the night… What if you disappointed him? What if he decided he didn't want you?

He gave nothing away as he stared at you while you felt like your eyes told him everything. It wasn’t fair how in control he looked when you were close to spiraling. “Let’s go sit inside,” he suggested, finally cracking a smile when your face scrunched up. “No one will bother us, and I’d like to keep talking to you even if you don’t decide to leave with me.”

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit with you for a few minutes,” you said, especially if he would keep others away from you.

His hand on your hip felt like it belonged there as he guided you back inside. The scents and mindless chatter didn’t bother you as much now, likely because all you could really smell and concentrate on was Bucky. Did his kisses taste like plums or whiskey? Both?

He brought to a corner near the bar, far enough away from the mingling crowd that you still felt a bit of privacy. You kept his jacket around you though the room was considerably warmer than it was outside, not quite ready to give it back to him. “Drink?” he asked, angling his chair so that his knees were touching yours. There was no table in front of you. Anyone looking would see how close you were.

“No, thanks,” you said. You already downed a glass of whiskey and your head was spinning thanks to him.

You felt his gaze on you for a full minute before he spoke again. “Your ‘date’ isn’t the reason you’re hesitating to leave,” he said, scratching along his beard. You bet it would feel wonderful between your thighs. “Is it me? Am I too old for you?”

You had to laugh. “You’re a gorgeous silver fox, so that isn’t the problem,” you said. Beneath the suit you knew he was in great shape, too.

He smiled a gorgeous smile, appreciating the compliment. “So it isn't my age. Do you think I won’t treat you well?”

“I know you’ll treat me well,” you answered, avoiding his gaze. You knew that in your core. “But I’m afraid of what happens in the morning.”

He forced your gaze back to him with a large hand. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Everything.

“I’m afraid if I get a taste of you it won’t be enough for one night,” you said, your heart pounding as he stared into your eyes. Like he was staring deep into your soul. “And it isn’t fair that you have that kind of power over me.”

He looked almost impressed with your answer. “I appreciate your honesty,” he praised, his thumb sweeping over your lips this time. “And it won't be enough. Once I get a taste of you, I won’t let you go.”

It wasn’t a matter of if with him, but when. “You couldn't possibly want me for more than one night,” you said. He knew you were just a struggling designer’s assistant and didn’t run with this crowd. You lived in different worlds.

“I’m going to want you every night.” He tilted his head when you shifted in your seat. “You feel it, don't you?”

You feigned innocence when he held your gaze, your heart racing. God, he had felt it. Was it an explosion, a slow burn, or something else? “Feel what?”

Bucky smirked, not at all fooled. “That you’re my-”

“Don’t say it,” you begged. Speaking the word would make it real and it wasn't something he could take back. “Because if you don’t want that or me, we can just go our separate ways and ignore it.”

He hadn’t marked you, and you hadn’t claimed him either. You didn’t know what it would feel like to have his knot, so you couldn’t possibly miss it. And neither of you would have to depend on the other. You could walk away with as minimal damage as possible, and you’d find a way to remain whole. So would he.

The low growl Bucky emitted made the nearby guests move away, but you weren’t afraid. “Ignore it? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. I would've fucked you right out there on the balcony if that couple hadn't interrupted us,” he said, your body hot and needy at the thought of him fucking you while you looked out at the view. “I’m lucky finally finding you didn’t send me into a rut.”

You thought the same about your heat. “Bucky-”

“Our scents call to each other. We call to each other,” he said, placing his hand on your chest. How did your heart feel fuller from his touch? “Tell me you didn't feel a connection when you caught my scent and looked at me.”

“I felt something,” you admitted.

“And it compelled you enough to follow me outside, to open up to me,” he said. You couldn't deny that. “You may say you don’t belong here, but something inside you says you belong with me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? Scare you?” you asked. Having mates could be wonderful, but what if he wanted that pull with someone who wasn’t you?

“No, it doesn’t,” he said. There wasn't even a whiff of fear, likely because he had nothing to lose. “In fact, I think you should quit your job and move in with me.

You looked at him like he suddenly grew another head. “Quit my job and move in with you?”

“Yes. Your boss doesn't deserve to have you as an assistant, and you wouldn't have to pay rent if you stayed at my place.”

You didn’t attempt to laugh off his request since he was completely serious. “You realize that sounds insane, right?” you added. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary though. Some couples who took their time building their bond still moved in right away.

“Insane would’ve been marking you the moment I saw you and dragging you home the way some alphas do,” he said.

You bristled. “It’s too soon for you to mark me,” you said, even as your mating bond throbbed.

“Don’t worry. I won't mark you tonight,” he assured you. Hurt crept up for a split second before he ran a finger along your collar. You visibly trembled and realized that he did want to mark you. He just wasn’t doing so tonight out of respect for you. “But you can still be mine in every other way until that day comes.”

You opened your mouth to argue. He hadn’t marked you, but you still felt owned. “You really think people want you with an omega outside of your tax bracket?”

“You think I give a fuck what they think?” His handsome face twisted in a scowl as he looked around. “And if they even think about insulting you, I’ll ruin them. It’s that simple.”

“It isn’t that simple,” you said.

“Why not? I know you're meant to be mine and you know it, too.” He touched your collar again, your mating bond throbbing almost to the point of pain. “You won’t need to worry about money or a roof over your head because I’ll give it to you. And a space to design your own clothes and make your dream come true.”

It sounded too good to be true, and nothing in this world was free. “I have my rent. If I break my lease-”

“I’ll pay what you owe.”

Your rent was probably pocket change to him. At least you didn’t have a roommate you’d have to worry about. It was always too risky to rely on someone else to help with bills and utilities. “And all that in exchange for what? Being your whore?”

He snarled, and you were delighted to hear that sound. “Trust me, doll, you may want me to fuck you like a whore, but I’ll treat you like a goddess. Like my equal,” he replied, his promise touching something deep inside you and drowning out most of your fear.

You just wished the remaining would fade away.

“I want us to be equals, but do you realize that you’d have all the power until I get my designs off the ground, right? I’d have to rely on your money, your roof over my head,” you said, swallowing the small lump in your throat. Did he realize what he was asking of you? To push aside the small amount of pride and independence you had? “I’ve done fine on my own and to have to depend on you is something else altogether.”

You hoped he at the very least realized how vulnerable you were right now by opening up more.

He looked vulnerable, too, as he moved closer. “I know it’s a lot to have to depend on me, but with me you wouldn't have to do this on your own. My finances don’t mean I have power. You’d have power, too,” he said. You wanted to believe you would. “In fact, I think you’re the only person in this entire city who could bring me to my knees. That’s power.”

You smiled a little. Could you really bring him to his knees? “As flattered as I am that you want to take care of me, do I have to decide tonight?” you asked. He was saying all the right things, and it was tempting, but there was so much to figure out beyond the living arrangements.

“We can discuss it more tomorrow if you’d like,” he said, looking around as you let out a breath. He had no doubt in his mind that you would spend the night. “Have you seen your date?”

You looked around, too, not at all worried when you spotted him. A complete contrast to how you felt at the beginning of the evening. “He’s…” You gestured to the bar where Chet was flirting with the loosely dressed omega from earlier and staring right down the front of her dress.

Bucky growled and swept his eyes over you, no doubt catching how you pressed your thighs together from the sound. A growl really shouldn't be that sexy. “Not a very faithful alpha, is he?”

“Well, he isn't my alpha, remember?” you pointed out. Someone like Chet would never be. “My boss only ‘suggested’ that I go with him tonight, and I made it clear I wasn't going to sleep with him.”

There was another hint of a growl before he smiled. “Wait right here. I’m just going to tell the young pup that you’re going home with me.”

You gripped his arm as he tried to stand. “Easy, old man. I didn't say I was going home with you,” you teased, knowing full well you were in fact leaving with him.

“Old man?” he smiled.

You shrugged. “You called me ‘doll’, which sounds like something an old man would say.”

“I think an old man is exactly what you need.” His eyes flashed with a deliciously dark promise that he was right and you’d enjoy every single inch of what he’d give you. “And you didn’t explicitly say you'd go with me, but we both know I’ve swayed you to go to my place.”

“You alphas are so cocky.” You refrained from rolling your eyes since he was right in this instance. “But maybe I should just stay here a bit longer and make you work for it since you want me so badly.”

He chuckled. “You’d rather stay here? Fine by me,” he said, leaning in close. “I’ll just slide my hand up your dress here and now and feel just how wet you are for me. I doubt anyone would notice if I made you come on my fingers. They’re too caught up in themselves.”

Your eyes closed when he touched your thigh. “You think I'm wet for you?”

“I know you are. I can smell it. Can practically taste it. You’ll let me taste you, won't you?” he purred, and you could only tremble as his hand moved higher, your legs parting to give him more access. “In fact, why don't I drag your ‘date’ over and let him watch while I lay you out and feast on your cunt? Show him what you'll never give him a taste of?”

You weren't sure if the pool of arousal was from the thought of Bucky eating you like a starved man, making that sad excuse for an alpha watch while he got you off, or both. You wondered what it would be like to taste yourself on his lips. “And why would you let him see what I look like when I come?”

He seemed to consider your question. “That’s a good point. He shouldn't see how you look when you come.” Bringing his hand to your face, your breath hitched when he caressed your cheek with such care. “But you’ll never have to hide that beautiful expression from me.”

“Hey!”

You pulled away from Bucky in time to see Chet storm over. “Shit,” you whispered when he furiously looked between you and Bucky. You were shocked smoke didn't come out of his ears.

“What the hell are you doing? I said enjoy the free booze, and do not embarrass me. You can't even follow a simple instruction,” he snapped. You refused to bare your neck when he showed his teeth. He wasn’t going to embarrass you either. “The only reason you can even step foot in this place is because of me. You fucking sl-”

Bucky was out of his seat before you could blink, his hand wrapped tight around Chet’s throat and cutting off the remainder of his insult. A few patrons gasped and stopped to watch as Chet clawed at Bucky's hand, but no one stepped in to help. The anger that poured off your alpha was enough to deter anyone from getting involved. And you were loving every second of it.

“She’s my mate,” Bucky said through his teeth, making Chet’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Biology may say you’re an alpha, but you’re nothing. And I’m tempted to crush your windpipe for insulting her.” He squeezed harder and smirked when Chet wheezed. “When her boss asks how the gala went, you’re going to sing her praises. If you don't, I’ll hunt you down and make sure you can never knot anyone ever again. And that’s just the start of what I'll do to you.”

It was almost humiliating how turned on you were by Bucky's dominant display. You thought you’d be an omega who wouldn’t want an alpha acting like, well, an alpha, yet his defense of you meant a lot. “Bucky.” You stood up and smiled when he looked at you, his anger shifting to something softer. “You can let him go.”

Chet fell to the ground and coughed once Bucky released him. Your alpha bared his teeth with a snarl and Chet showed his throat like an obedient dog. It was clear who the top alpha was.

“Apologize,” Bucky commanded. Not only did Chet cough out an apology while avoiding your gaze, a few others said “sorry” as well. That was how powerful this man was. And you wanted him more than anything.

“Thanks for the free booze, Chet. And don't worry about me getting a ride home. I think you should worry if that omega still wants you after your… performance,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s. “Have a great night.”

There was no need to fake your confidence as you and Bucky walked out together. It didn't matter at the moment what they thought of you. All you could think about was how Bucky defended you, and how he called you his mate. It was out in the open. He…

Oh, God.

“Thank you for defending me, but you do realize you just told everyone that I’m your mate, right?” you whispered. That gossip would spread before the night was over.

“Is that what I did?” he asked, smirking when you hissed and glared. “And you don’t need to thank me. He had it coming.”

The smirk was still on his handsome face as the valet brought his car around. What the hell were people going to say? He didn’t care what they thought and neither should you.

“Listen, Bucky, just because you…”

Bucky held your face in his hands, leaning in so close you felt his breath against your lips. His mouth barely grazed yours, carefully teasing you with the promise of what was to come. “Just because I what?” he rasped, and you swear you felt more slick stain your already ruined panties.

“You better get me off before we get to your place,” you said instead of finishing your original statement because you truthfully forgot all about it when his lips touched yours.

Your insides tinged with more heat and desire when he nipped your bottom lip. “You better say my name when I get you off.”

“Should I say Bucky or James?” you smirked.

“Bucky. Reserve the name James for when you’re upset or extremely serious,” he winked, thanking the valet before helping you into his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice.

“And you won’t mark me tonight?” you asked once he got up, touching the back of your collar to make sure it was still secure.

“We still have a lot to figure out before I mark you,” he said, leaning over as you sighed in relief. “But before we go…”

His mouth landed on yours, both strong and soft as he took possession of yours. The entire gala could've gone up in flames and you wouldn't have noticed since all you felt was him. You tasted his hunger when his tongue plunged inside, and there was a hint of desperation, too. He was starving for you and you moaned, deepening the kiss to show that you were just as eager.

You panted when he broke the kiss. “Don’t make me regret trusting you,” you breathed, your eyes once again giving everything away.

His nose bumped yours affectionately as he dragged his lips to your forehead. You didn't expect such a fond gesture from him, and you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't blurt out how nice a kiss to the forehead felt. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss against your skin.

Your heart felt full, and your inner omega wanted to shout with joy. “Take me home then.”

Bucky sped off a moment later, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. Your core ached as you looked at him, giving you a chance to once again take in his profile. The saying of aging like fine wine probably rang true for him. You imagined he was always good looking, but he was both rough and refined thanks to his age. People who said perfection didn’t exist clearly never saw him before.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“I do, but you know that,” you answered, his jaw clenching when you pulled your dress up to reveal your legs. “And didn’t you promise to get me off before we got to your place?”

The sexual tension that had been building up spiked, and you sensed his need to claim you in some capacity was rising to the surface. “Give me your panties,” he ordered, giving you a sharp look. “Now.”

“You’re bossy,” you smiled, pushing your dress higher. He swore under his breath when you gripped your underwear and slid it off, your slick practically dripping from the flimsy fabric. No one ever got you that wet before. “But I kind of like it.”

He chuckled, licking his lips. “You like it because it’s me,” he pointed out, snatching the underwear out of your hand once it was within reach. You watched with a whine as he brought it to his nose and deeply inhaled. “Fuck…” he growled, bringing the fabric to the tent growing in his pants next and rubbing all over it in a filthy display. Watching him ruin his pants with the scent and slick of your pussy had you soaking the seat beneath you. “Spread your legs and show me that pretty cunt.”

You trembled when he took his eyes off the road. Pulling your dress over your hips, you obediently spread your legs and let him get a good look at what would soon belong to him. “You like what you see?”

“Just wait until I tie you to my bed and get a real look before I fuck you. It’ll be a shame to wreck something so pretty, but you’ll thank me for it,” he replied, looking back at the road as he sped up. Oh, you’d thank him over and over. “Touch yourself, but don’t put your fingers inside.”

Bringing your hand between your legs, you gasped at how sensitive you were. It was like you were in heat, but fully aware of your surroundings. “Like this?” you asked, moving your fingers along your folds.

“Just like that,” he whispered, his gaze darting between you and the road. You hoped one day he’d fuck your throat while he drove. “Now give me your hand.”

You presented your glistening fingers to him, giving him the opportunity to grip your wrist and suck the wet digits into his mouth. You felt his mouth water from your taste, the groan of arousal in his throat making you shake. He didn’t stop until he licked your fingers clean. “You taste just as divine as you smell,” he said, releasing your hand and reaching over to cup your mound. “And I need more.”

“I need more, too,” you moaned, his palm rubbing your clit and building that ecstasy within you. He teased your dripping hole with another finger, but didn’t push inside yet. You arched your hips, trying to get him to breach you. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl saying please,” he praised, finally pushing a thick finger inside. You clenched around him so tight, your body wanting more. “Fuck, you’re tight. And wet. Made just for me. Imagine how good you’ll feel once you’re stretched around my cock.”

“Want your cock,” you moaned, opening your legs wider. “Want your big cock inside me.”

“Yeah, you do. You want my big, bare cock in your soaked cunt,” he said, pushing another finger in, your slick coating them. You didn’t let anyone fuck you bare before, but you’d let him. “You want my knot, too.”

You moaned, an image of you on your hands and knees flashing in your mind, Bucky’s strong hands pulling you back to meet every thrust until he locked your bodies in place. You could practically feel his teeth sinking into your neck to fully seal your fate. Or would he make love to you, linking your fingers together and kissing you with care as he tenderly pushed his knot in? It didn’t matter. He’d give you everything, and you wanted it all.

“Are you hard just thinking of fucking of me raw?” you moaned, the need to rip the top of your dress open to reveal your breasts strong. No… If your dress was going to get torn to shreds, he could do that himself. “Coming so deep inside me you’ll drip out of me days later?”

The next growl he let out was inhuman, his fingers curling until you cried out. “My good little omega has a dirty mouth on her,” he smirked.

“I do have a dirty mouth. You should fuck it sometime,” you smiled sweetly before your mouth fell open, his expert fingers fucking you deep. Talking dirty to him helped stamp down your emotions a bit, but they were threatening to surface the more he touched you. “Bucky.”

“That’s it. Say my name. Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded. Your back arched, gripping the leather seat until your hand ached. Your body certainly knew who owned you. “Tell me who’s going to take care of you.”

You bit your lip to hold back your whimper, your heart pounding out of control. No one took care of you. No one wanted to until tonight, and you hadn’t wanted that either.

He stopped moving his fingers, keeping perfectly still as you hissed in frustration. Was he really going to build you up and not let you finish? “Tell me,” he demanded again, gentler this time.

Your eyes burned, but you swallowed your pride. Again. “You, Bucky,” you whispered, trusting that he’d be an alpha of his word. “You'll take care of me.”

He cooed when you whimpered, slipping a third finger in and moving them again. “That’s my girl. My good omega. I know that wasn’t easy for you to say,” he praised, so proud of you. Part of you was proud of yourself, too. “Do you need to come?”

“Yes!” you cried out, desperately trying to ride his fingers as the pressure grew. You were so close. Just a little more…

“Then do it. Get that slick all over my hand and seat,” he said, pushing against your bundle of nerves once more as your body locked up. “And say. My. Name.”

Waves of pleasure rolled through you, colors blurring your vision as you cried his name. Your eyes rolled back as the squelching sound of your cunt filled the car, his fingers helping you ride it out. You were drowning, unable to breathe until you broke through the haze. You felt ruined already by his fingers. Oh, his cock was going to destroy you.

“Fuck, that’s it. Give it to me. That’s my good girl. Can’t wait to feel that all over my cock.”

He only removed his fingers when you whined and licked your essence away with a low moan. The beautiful bastard still looked so put together, and hadn’t swerved once while he drove. “Holy shit,” you exhaled, your walls still fluttering. The orgasm took the edge off while leaving you wanting more. “Did I… soak your hand?”

“You did,” he confirmed, your face hot. “Fuck, I’m going to need an entire weekend to eat your sweet cunt just to start,” he said, flashing you a smile. “And you make very pretty sounds when you come.”

You managed a smile as you slumped in the seat, your dress still bunched around your waist. “What do you sound like when you come?” you asked breathlessly.

“You’ll find out,” he promised.

You trembled again when he put his hand back on your thigh, your hand immediately covering his. You needed his touch to ground you, but didn’t want to say so. “I just realized something,” you said once you fully caught your breath.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“If you’re my mate but you haven’t marked me yet, and you plan to pay for… well, everything for me for the time being,” you said, a laugh bubbling up when you saw that your window was fogged up. You drew a little smiley face, making you laugh more before you glanced at him. “You’re kind of like my sugar daddy.”

The look on his face before he laughed made him look younger, the sound affectionate and happy. How many managed to make him laugh like that? “Does that mean you’re going to call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Don’t push it, old man,” you giggled. Though if anyone could sway you, it would be him. “Why don’t we just stick with ‘alpha’ for now?”

“That and Bucky,” he suggested, turning his hand so your palm rested against his. “I like hearing you say my name, doll,” he added in a whisper.

“I like saying your name, Bucky,” you said, your brows furrowing. “But who came up with that nickname?”

He chuckled again, your skin tingling when he lifted your hand to kiss it. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes, I do,” you said.

He stole a glance at you. Through the heavy scent of your orgasm, you detected joy seeping from him. It made you feel happy, too. “Okay,” he smiled, running his thumb along your hand. “I got the nickname a long time ago…”

You twisted more in your seat to face him as you listened, lost in his voice and smile. There was so much you had to learn about your alpha. His likes and dislikes. What he would be like before, during, and after his ruts. He had a lot to learn about you, too. You wouldn’t give up on your dream of becoming a designer, and accepting his help may not be such a bad thing.

And maybe accepting the fact that you had a mate to depend on wouldn’t be such a bad thing either.

So, what do we think so far? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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lycandrophile · 10 months ago

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i clicked on the original tweet just to see if anyone else felt as weird about it as i did because at this point i’m just tired of seeing people going on and on about trans men dating cishet men who try to convince them not to transition as if it’s a funny joke about a trans man doing something silly and not a manipulative and generally very unhealthy relationship dynamic that can hurt the trans man involved really deeply (as forcing someone back into the closet tends to do.)

did i find anyone else feeling that way? no. there were a few people pointing out that it was weird in general, and plenty saying it’s a weird thing to say about a cis woman, but nothing expressing any sort of concern about the tired stereotype it’s perpetuating.

but you know what i did find? replies like the one in the second screenshot, using the tweet as their chance to tell the world how much they hate trans men and how repulsive they find the idea of ever being compared to us. and replies like the third one, shaming trans men in relationships like that as if the fact that they’ve found themselves in an unhealthy relationship makes them deserving of public shaming, as if their relationship is hurting anyone other than them.

stereotypes like this just feel like yet another way of indirectly calling us stupid little girls who don’t know what’s good for us, and the fact that a picture of a woman is being used (even jokingly!) as an example of what trans men “like that” look like should make the implications of rhetoric like this all the more obvious.

it’s relationships like these that keep us miserable in the closet for so long and drive up our sexual assault rates even more. they’re not funny and if anyone is going to be making jokes about them, it certainly shouldn’t be people who have never been in that situation. if you actually cared about us you’d be looking for ways to support the trans men you know who are in relationships like that instead of hopping on twitter to joke about how stupid they must be.

i don’t care if it’s a joke. if it victim blames trans men for the transphobia we face in our personal relationships, adds to the common idea that we can’t be trusted to make decisions about our own lives, and invites even more blatant transphobia against us by people who unabashedly admit they see all trans men as “disgusting and phony”, it’s not fucking funny.

(i also want to note that the people making these jokes never like to mention that this also happens to trans men in relationships with queer women. they also hate those trans men, of course, and are happy to express that when they get into fights about trans men who date lesbians, but they’ll never talk about it in the context of this particular stereotype. it’s always a man being manipulative in a relationship and pressuring trans men to not transition, as if a woman would never be capable of such a thing.

they also like to conveniently ignore the existence of older trans men who transitioned after already being in a committed relationship with a cishet man and were able to make that relationship work despite their transition, because acknowledging that would require recognizing that trans men can be in seemingly contradictory relationships and genuinely be happy with their partner. who needs nuance when you can simply choose to judge all trans men for our relationships regardless of what they’re actually like?)

do you think they also would call me “a trans man being purposefully misgendered” with this kind of vitriol because i’m still living with parents who don’t recognize my gender instead of moving out before i’m ready to be financially independent? at this point, i’m starting to feel like they might, with the way every decision a trans man ever makes is the subject of a public debate and people have decided that trans men are secretly using being misgendered as a weapon to somehow hurt other trans people.

as a general rule, i’d say the only people who should be making “X looks like a trans man” jokes about literally anyone/anything are trans men, and posts like this show exactly why those jokes being made by anyone else (even by other trans people) just isn’t a good idea.

#just got home from work and cannot be bothered to proofread all of this well so. enjoy my Raw Thoughts #cue someone saying ‘it’s not that deep’ as if i didn’t just spend many paragraphs explain why it bothers me so much #examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia

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theothernads · 26 days ago

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• ── ❛❛ 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟕 ❞ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆

─────────────────────────────────

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: In a world where vampires exist, the city of Seoul is not safe. With the most notorious in the Facility 007, everyone thought that the city would be kept at bay with murders being stopped and for terror to stop haunting everyone in the night. That's what you thought when they were captured and stopped the vampirism from spreading by biting normal humans. However, you made a mistake in assuming that these seven would give up, and you underestimated their desire for power and control when you were invited for an internship to said Facility 007. It should have been easy enough. But one myth and night changed everything, and now, you have to figure out how to play your cards right if you want to take them down.

── ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!Enha×f!reader. ❀ .⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

── ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: biting, violence, chainsaws, blood, fighting, lots of death, Enha are MEAN ASFAWK, handcuffs, vampires (duh), needles, and violence <3

╰┈➤ don't proceed if you don't like that.

ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 20.6k ☰ ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘: ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

— ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒]: okay. So. I have returned with the fic!! It took a while to edit and I'm not even that satisfied with the outcome BUT, I know people are waiting so, I decided to just put it out and let yall judge! I... um. Yeah. I did enjoy writing this one actually. I have a new idea for a Hoon fic but MAFIA. BUT NOT THE CRINGEY KIND 😭. Anyway, hope you enjoy. And yes, the word count did go up somehow💀. Anyway, pls let me know how you like it/dont like it.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ REBLOGS, LIKES+ COMMENTS are appreciated<3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

FACILITY 007.

The most highly guarded prison to accommodate the most notorious vampires to ever roam the streets. Each prison was made with soundproof walls, ropes at the ready, and a seat built into the plain walls, reminding prisoners of their inevitable sentence.

These vampires made the news within hours; their trademark were black masks that covered the cheeks and nose with narrow gaps where the teeth would be of a horrid creature.

Each of their kills were brutal and malicious, with people drowning in their own blood, limbs left at awkward angles, and sometimes, the bodies were too unrecognisable to even have an autopsy performed. And for any of it to go on the news.

The hunt for them was hasty—they were picked up on the CCTV in town when it all happened, and the police were already staged there. In all honesty, you expected more precision and flair in their crooked plans, but you had been proven wrong when leather cuffs were latched onto their wrists as Seoul's personal mark of retaliation.

They scared you, of course. But, for your mother, it was a light at the end of the tunnel for her research. Instead of killing those vampires (which you strongly insisted on), the authorities handed them over to this research facility, all locked up, studied, and examined down to the T. They were homed in the West Wing, whilst you and your mother stayed at the East Wing, where the labs were situated.

Now, where do you come in?

You hated those no-good vampires, and there was absolutely nothing to persuade you to ever go near one…

Except.

Except your mother offering an insightful internship at her facility to gain experience since you were in the final year of your biomedical course. There were perks that came with having a crazy scientist as your mother. And, you accepted it with a single breath.

It was a little hypocritical when you agreed to it, but experience was a dream that barely came by commonly.

What you didn't accept is the part where you had to go to the West Wing and administer drugs directly to said vampires. The drugs, as much as you know, suppressed their strength or any traces of vampirism that lived in their bodies. It made it easier to handle their abilities where the Facility only had humans working.

Your mother already had an excuse precisely stitched.

"If you ever want to study something, you cannot be standing away from the microscope,” she had said to you over a bland tomato sandwich.

“You can if you have other colleagues,” you had argued back to her, making her narrow her gaze with that authoritative, motherly fire.

“Then you will never understand your specimen. Nor become a real scientist.”

Which leads to now.

It was a gloomy day in Seoul, the temperature enough to induce a shiver up your spine, but not enough to convince you to wear a coat. The West Wing was a maze—a cream and monotone maze that only had emergency buttons every few metres. Your footsteps echoed and broke through the icy air lingering in the air. But, the loudest thing was your heartbeat. It beat the silence.

The thick drum of each beat sent you breathless; you wouldn't be surprised if the vampires saw you coming from the way your heart was practically singing to them.

You clutched the thick, brown file to your chest as you entered the elevator, swallowing down the apprehension that came with your first official job without your mother.

Another ding, and the elevator soared up, adding to your nausea.

It's fine. You were fine and you would ace this task even if you weren't being graded. Just go in, administer the drugs, get out, and then repeat about seven times. Then, you could sprint out of there.

Easy.

The grey doors opened revealing the long hallway and the double doors at the end, two guards stood with thick, black guns and a face of certain security. Violence wasn't your thing, but seeing guns in the arms of (hopefully) capable guards eased the anxiety stinging up your spine.

When you walked up to them, you fished out the lanyard beneath your white lab coat and beamed a polite smile at them. “Intern Song Y/n here.”

The one on the right glanced and the one on the left pressed a secret button at his waist. The buzz of the doors rang through your ears, and you pushed through with another tide of silence. It was even creepier here.

It wasn't dark—no—it was even brighter here, cream walls lined with the normal emergency buttons, and there were only two single doors opposite each other, locked and with keypads. The silence waited and lingered over you, but was knotted with something tense and anticipating.

Okay, right or left? It didn't really matter when each door had a monster strapped behind them and could easily strip you of your blood. You opened the file and saw the first name.

Lee Heeseung—the oldest of the lot, observant and critical, but insanely quiet. He was restrained with a single rope around his torso, leather cuffs around his arms, and a single chain around his ankle.

Great, you were practically meeting the ghost of the group. You always thought to yourself that having chains was better for the arms, but apparently they could use those as weapons. You had to agree. They were monsters but it didn't mean said creatures couldn't be resourceful.

To the left you went. After showing the guard your ID, you popped in the code and entered the lab. The chill breathed down your body, the hum of the equipment thrumming steadily over the metal table and counters. The door slammed shut behind and you flinched.

“Fuck these stupid doors,” you said to no one but yourself. Hastily putting the file down on the middle table, you caught sight of the blinds over a large plane of glass where light peeked in from behind it. Without hesitation, you sauntred to the blinds and pulled, the secrecy lifting to reveal what was behind.

You almost jumped once more when you spotted the lone figure sitting with a hung head, black locks falling over his eyes, totally still as if time didn't affect him. The ropes around his torso and the metal chain around his ankle told you that you had met the older vampire.

Lee Heeseung.

You don't know what you were expecting but this creature was much more depressed than you anticipated. Of course, no one likes being trapped in a windowless room, but you thought he would have his red eyes on you already. Or maybe he's asleep? You can't blame him.

Your thoughts were broken when a door slammed behind you and another heartbeat joined yours with careful footsteps.

You whipped your head around, prepared to hit the intruder with your fists, but relaxed when you saw a familiar male.

“Taehyun, gosh, you scared me,” you said in exasperation. The male walked over with his brown, floppy hair, white lab coat and a small smile of satisfaction.

“Mission successful.” he nudged you in the arm once close enough. In return, you nudged him back and breathed, glad that it was your fellow friend rather than a stranger with fangs.

“What you doing here?” you asked, walking away from the window. Taehyun glanced over his shoulder before joining you with a playful smirk.

“Supervising. It's your first time administering the suppressants, right?” He grinned.

“Yeah. And your smile is not helping,” you said, observing him and his smile. As if he knew something you didn't, and he probably did since he has always been in the West Wing ever since you started your work here. You want to be like him, to fearlessly exit the elevator without a speck of apprehension. To be confident, really.

Taehyun leaned on the table in front with his elbows before noticing the anxiety soiling all the fun that came with being a scientist. “You're nervous.”

“Great observation, Terry.” you muttered before he laughed again.

“Look, it is simple. Heeseung, from what I know, doesn't really speak to me, and he is tied up the most among them,” he said, looking at the table as if was going through a mental walk-through of it.

Simple. That's what you told yourself all of last night, but you underestimated the anchor of your anxiety. It was much heavier and it completely left your skills stranded in the middle of what felt like a vast ocean. And you didn't know how to lift it with your bare hands. You sighed and cleared the sweat on your palms by wiping it on the sides of your coat. Taehyun chuckled under his breath, and you glared daggers into him.

“Shut up, will you? Not everyone is experienced.”

“Just go in,” Taehyun said as he straightened himself before you. Then, his eyes drifted over your shoulder and tensed somewhat. “Hey, he's expecting you anyway.”

When he said that, your heartbeat spiked so hard, but not as hard as your head snapping to the glass behind you.

Heeseung was awake, and those dark eyes behind his locks still managed to cut right into your gaze and chop it into ten pieces. There was a permanent frown on his lips, skin glittering under the fluorescent lights, fists curled between his lap. But even as you dared to stare, you couldn't miss the intrigue bleeding into his gaze, then consuming him fully as he lifted his chin with a slow precision.

You swallowed hard, feeling as if your whole body had clicked into a safety lock just by simply being visible through the glass. And still, he stared.

“See, I told you he is expecting you!” Taehyun patted your back, jolting you out of that tense state and making you huff.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Okay, so, go in and administer the drug first. Then, the blood drink should be fed to him through the straw. He is not like the others, since he keeps his fangs to himself.”

“Keeps his fangs to himself?!” you exclaimed incredulously as Taehyun led you to the door with a steady hand on your back. You currently held a blood bag with a plastic opening that could pass as a straw, and a syringe with a safety cap over the needle.

Taehyun nodded as if it was a normal breakfast routine, grinning down at you. That didn't help in the slightest but it was too late because you were in front of the sliding door already.

“Do the others bite?” you inquired once more, trying very hard to stall. He caught on and sighed as he crossed his arms with mirth. The genuine worry sparkled in your gaze. To keep your confidence up, he gripped your shoulders firmly.

“Don't think about it. I'll tell you the answer after you do this.”

Damn, a stupid bargain. With a huff, you faced the door, breathed once for the anxiety to dissipate as if it was as light as dust being carried away by the breeze.

The door slid open and you entered, closing it behind you before registering the utter silence in here. There was no equipment in here, so no hum, and it sounded as if Heeseung didn't breathe. So, it was just you.

The room was a plain grey and you faced Heeseung with the most tense shoulders known in mankind, all the advice that was given flying out your body.

His eyes never left you, head slightly turned with attention. Your files were right: he was insanely observant. He's probably judging how fast your heart was skipping its scheduled beats.

Whatever, you don't have all day. You have six more vampires to take care of after him.

With an inhale, you stepped forward a few steps until you stood before him, the syringe at the ready. You didn't know if you should introduce yourself.

Did Taehyun introduce himself? Does he know you're different?

All those questions flooded your brain as you screwed the cap off, facing the criminal before you. This time, his chin was lifted more, staring shamelessly. You swallowed again before digging for a small plastic packet with a wipe.

“You're different.” his voice made your shoulders jump again, but you nodded once, stoic.

“Thanks?”

“Not Technician Kang,” he reiterated again. You nodded again once, gesturing for him to tilt his head. Heeseung blinked once, the attention sharpening and slicing your skin, but he did as you asked, exposing the right side of his neck.

“I am not Technician Kang, you're right.” you wiped the side of his cold neck before bringing the needle to his skin and letting the sharpness sink deep in.

Heeseung didn't react much, but his jaw clenched, as if this routine was nonsensical—annoyed. When the drug flowed into him, his veins splayed out like a map, black, winding up his neck and disappearing under his black shirt, and he shifted, rolling his neck.

You took the syringe and tossed it into the green waste bag tied to your lab coat. Next, the blood bag in the large pocket of yours. This was going perfectly. Minimal speaking and you were nearly done.

What a success.

“But you know who I am, right?”

Damn it, you thought too soon.

“Who doesn't?” you replied, trying to ignore the slight tremble as you opened the small straw to the blood bag. Heeseung narrowed his gaze but the smell of blood hit him, and he scowled when you brought it closer. Confused, you held it away slightly.

“Something wrong?” you asked. Heeseung's gaze pinned right into the blood bag, as if that was the next annoying thing.

“You still insist on feeding us those… animal leftovers,” he muttered with disgust. You looked to the label and saw it was cow blood that he was straying away from. Gosh, he was picky about blood? You hid the awkwardness down below and sighed.

“Well, if you don't want to drink it, you won't get anything else,” you explained, but you were so sure he knew that already. Heesseung sighed deeply through his nose, the frown deepening before he lifted his chin in defeated acceptance. With that, you led straw to his chapped lips.

The blood rushed through the straws, the bag emptying with alarming speed to satiate his hunger.

You could guess the facility kept them on the cliff of starvation. Not enough to send them insane out of hunger. It was a little cruel but in your head, it was compensation for all those crime scenes decorated with blood and organs that should never see the light of day.

You put the empty bag in the green disposal bag once done and stepped back with your anxiety shifting away a little. It wasn't as bad as it seemed.

Heeseung stared again, licking his bottom lip, savouring whatever would last him until next time. You just gave a tight smile, then regretted it, and quickly walked away, out the sliding doors with the burn of his gaze etched into your back.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next Vampire afterwards was Nishimura Riki, who existed just opposite Heeseung.

Taehyun let you in, already having the blood bag and suppressant drug at the ready on the table. This was kind of the last thing on your mind, and you swiftly turned to him.

“So, do the others bite?” You asked again, remembering the bargain he made. Taehyun huffed but there was no sign of avoidance either.

“Well, from what I know, Jake seems to have inhibition problems. Sunoo, too. Jay, Jungwon, and Sunghoon seem a bit more… controlled, but you never know,” he explained with a shrug.

You don't understand how he is so chill about it. Just the thought of one of them biting you was enough to send a storm to stir in the very cavern that was your mind and thoughts. All conflicting thoughts flashed past each other until it felt as if they were on the verge of striking your brain with lightning.

You shook your head slightly to jostle your head right before snagging the blood bag and syringe into your pocket. “Doesn't really help, Terry.”

A humoured laugh escaped him as he walked over to the similar blinds from the other room and pulled it with one, firm tug.

The curtain lifted to reveal another figure with jet black hair falling over his eyes, sharp eyes already finding yours to make you breathless, and elaborate knots tied around both hands. The additional ankle chain was easy to spot, too. The bindings shouldn't have given you so much composure, but how could you stop yourself when the anxiety sunk a hole in your chest.

“So, you ready?” He asked from behind you. Instead of giving an answer, your mind clutched at any information regarding Riki.

You know he was the youngest of the lot, but he easily could go from zero to a hundred. It was go big or go home for the youngest vampire, exceeding all boundaries of peace to pursue any shadow of violence and make it his own. Sarcastic and mischievous, too.

“I think so. He's not a biter so…”

“I don't know. Riki is a little unpredictable,” Taehyun added with contemplation. You sighed and waited for Taehyun to lead the way to the sliding door. Once before it, you forced the composure to calm the storm. They could probably sense your emotions, the little jumps in your fear, and if they could wield that, you wouldn't be helping yourself.

Determined, you slipped into the room and welcomed the ultra silence this time before shutting the door.

Riki's feline gaze followed you with every step you took closer, scanning, and then a cruel smirk graced his lips. You don't know what's so funny—you preferred it if he was depressed and acted like a normal, contained prisoner.

“New heartbeat, I knew it,” he purred quietly as you got another sanitising wipe, ignoring the fact you knew he could probably pick it up.

“Congrats. You guessed right,” you said with a tight tone of no-nonsense. Riki slumped his shoulders, smirking as if it was a funny situation he found himself in.

“Could hear it for a while. Let me guess,” he said with a bored tone as you got the wipe out. “You visited Heeseung hyung.”

Strange. He knew who else was on the floor with him. You thought that your mother never told them of their locations, keeping only two on each floor. The thoughts sparked and stung your nerves, making you stiffen slightly in caution.

Riki smiled again, empty and sinister.

“I'm guessing yes.”

Not answering his correct assumption, you went to wipe the left side of his neck when he blanched back, making you halt, annoyance igniting your chest. Riki simply turned his face to the left, exposing his right side.

“This side please,” he demanded quietly but you could tell he was amused.

You didn't sigh nor huff, and you swiped the wipe in the correct area before doing the same as before, and sinking the needle into his flesh to release the drug.

Riki grunted softly as black veins appeared out of the blue, revealing its path over his neck, travelling underneath his skin. He released a breath, leaning back.

Next part—feeding him through the straw, to which he obliged much quicker than his elder brother. He didn't even take a break and departed with a sigh, collecting the last of it with a lick of his lips.

“I see you're not picky with blood,” you mumbled, disposing of the used bag. Riki scowled.

“Well, I don't want to die, do I? It still tastes cheap and flavourless,” he grumbled, meeting your gaze from where he sat, that same intrigue consuming his dark eyes, and forcing you to move away.

“Fair point.” You nodded before heading to the sliding door that was the exit. Before you fully left, Riki straightened himself, that same interest curling around his sharp gaze and cutting into your thoughts.

“You might want to control that heartbeat. The others might want to take it right out that pretty body of yours.”

You left much quicker that time, and even slammed the door shut before even thinking to release a breath.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“See, that wasn't so bad.”

“Taehyun, he said the others would rip my heart out,” you reiterated with a slightly pitchy tone, brows furrowed in worry.

Taehyun chuckled again for the hundredth time in your distress. Currently, you and him were on your way to the second floor, where the next two vampires were situated and locked away. The files were stuck to your chest, holding them as if you were being watched.

“I told you he's unpredictable. I also wouldn't believe a word he says,” he replied as he stepped out the elevator, greeting the similar sight of two guards arming the double doors leading deeper into the facility. With no choice, you tagged along behind him.

You don't want to believe anything these vampires say, but they're cunning and deceitful. Telling a lie and truth was probably as easy as breathing, their perception of it blurry in the lines.

They probably don't care about the differences if it means gaining something out of it. Like blood, you think. Which meant being confident and rigid with your instructions was the most important thing right now. You weren't the one locked away in a box of a room with your thoughts being the only other companion. Control was something you had if you knew how to use your own strengths.

Once identified, you and Taehyun sauntered deeper in until having to make the same decision of left or right.

“So, which one first?” He asked, turning back to you.

Well, you flipped open the file to the table marked ‘2nd’ and scanned down the page. If you go right, you would meet with Park Jongseong—another silent creature, but well-spoken with a tipping temper that could go one-eighty within a second.

If you go left, Kim Sunoo would be waiting for you—his bloodlust knew no end, usually impulsive and seemed proud of his tendencies. Danger at every corner, really.

“Let's go right."

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Just like normal, the lab was chilled, silent with the hum of machines in the background and the grey blinds pulled at where the huge, glass window was. Taehyun went to the fridge whilst you pulled the blinds.

With a tug, you lifted the barrier to reveal a sitting figure, again with jet black hair, a leg crossed over one another with a single ankle chain, and his hands were bound on his lap. He leaned back against the wall, head slightly tilted as if time had started to remind him of his long isolation here.

Even then, you saw the sharp gaze through the strands of his hair, and the curiosity simmering with a careful heat, as if waiting for the right moment.

You forced your eyes away and Taehyun came with the blood bag, syringe, and a comforting smile.

“You ready?”

“As ever.”

Once again, you slipped into the quiet room, everything still except your steady heartbeat. You purposely kept the beats under a limit, not wanting these vampires to dig their mockery into anything you may not be able control.

Jay was like Heeseung: his head was slightly turned and stayed fixated as you walked closer. You dug out the sanitary wipe as he dragged his eyes over your features.

“Another round of drugs,” he stated, something hard weighing his tone. You didn't feel bad, and just nodded. Jay rolled his eyes underneath his bangs and let you clean the side of his neck curtly before sinking in the syringe.

As before, black veins travelled up underneath his skin, the black liquid illuminating his veins to you. He hissed and snapped his gaze to you.

“When will you stop giving those… drugs?” He muttered, fighting through the discomfort. You paused, not really having an answer because you're simply an intern.

“I'm just an intern helping out,” you finally said, and a twinkle of realisation swept over his gaze. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have revealed that. But what would he do with said information? It's not like he can spread his epiphany to anyone beyond the prison.

“So, you're new?” Jay said with a slight scoff.

“I am.” You agreed, getting the blood bag and nearing the open straw near his lips, but within a second, his bound hands snapped to your wrist, and you nearly jumped.

The storm in your head struck your heart, the beats now unstable and harsh, knocking the wind out of you as you attempted to tug your arm back. Jay curled his fingers tighter.

He smiled ever so slightly, letting his nose dip to the pulse beneath your wrist, as if he was listening to the apprehension crawling back up your nerves and screaming out to him.

“Jongseong—”

“Smells better than that… bag of disappointment,” he cut you off, dragging his nose further up your wrist. You swallowed hard, nearly squeezing the blood bag and spilling the contents. The voice in your head tried to ice the anxiety and panic, settling it back down.

“Too… bad,” you mumbled before snapping your hand away and he faltered for a second, something hardening in his eyes. Without waiting, you held the straw to his closed lips.

Jay contemplated, eyes stuck to your fingers, but he relented, shoulders slumping as he parted his lips. It was as if he stalled enough for you to glimpse the sharp fangs glinting under the light before he took the straw in, a silent threat clear enough to warn you of what he truly was. Staying motionless, you let him finish the bag and he departed with a click in his jaw.

Though, he didn't speak again. He only analysed over the relief cooling your features, the way your anxiety didn't quite sink away with your blood. It remained in the edges of your heartbeat, enough to speak to him.

When you disposed of the bag, you left without a word and with his gaze clawed in your back.

You need to wear gloves.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Kim Sunoo was awake. Too awake for your liking. There was no clock within the rooms, but he didn't need one. It was as if every tick of a second was taken account of all in his head.

You bit your bottom lip, chewing it in contemplation as you stared through the glass where Sunoo sat, this time with hands bound behind him, a single chain coiled around his ankle. His black hair rained over his eyes, and he smiled when he saw you scan him over.

It wasn't the friendly smile, of course, but knowing, insane. As if he had you all figured out, but he was building up a wall of his own defenses in place.

Taehyun returned with a blood bag and syringe, placing it in your pocket without asking. “You good?”

You hummed in agreement, nodding. “All of these guys love to stare.”

“They're not normal, remember? And you're new, so its natural,” he explained, guiding you to the sliding door and putting in the code. Made sense, but it didn't do anything to ease the bewilderment clouding your lungs with thick clouds.

Your breath came out with a small quiver.

With a slide of the door, you were in, and was consumed by his hum. Brief hum. The first of the lot. You glanced over and brushed the hair away from your eyes before approaching like before.

“Gosh, not that blood bag again? I would love for something richer,” Sunoo began as you stood before him. When you gave no reply, his jaw tightened, but his smile widened as you ripped the sanitary wipe open. As long as you willed things to go your way, then it will be okay.

Except, the universe hated you and wanted to shit on your smooth-ish day.

Just as you were to make contact with the side of his neck, Sunoo stood with an audible sigh of relief. You jumped back, faltering in disbelief.

He shook each leg as if they were cramped and bolted with tension, and then rolled his shoulders within limit.

The exasperation crawled back into your heart and swelled there, and Sunoo noticed it with the perk of his head.

“I'm sorry, but being bound makes one… squirm,” he said cheekily. You certainly didn't appreciate it, but you honestly were too busy remembering if Sunoo was a biter or the restrained one. You stood awkwardly with the wipe, eager to get it over and done with.

“Fair enough,” you muttered, sending Sunoo to grin and his pupils to dilate ever so slightly.

“I am glad you understand. But alas, you are here to drug me again, no?��

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and nodded with a tiny, tight smile, keeping up with the courtesy. Sunoo's smile remained as he heard the pulse of your heart skip again. To your dismay, he simply leaned down, exposing his neck with the tilt of his head, expecting you to be jolly with it.

You weren't. Obviously. He was taller but you had to make due with what he had, even if you wanted to protest.

Swiftly doing the same job of cleaning, injecting, and disposing, you retrieved the blood bag, popping open the straw as Sunoo sat down with resignation, something hardening to stone beneath his mischief.

There were no complaints as he drank the blood, and your muscles grew antsy, hands faltering a little making the straw jostle. Sunoo bit into the straw before licking his lips of whatever was left, examining the way your eyes strayed to the sliding door. He grinned.

“You can leave now,” he taunted under his breath, but you heard it and disposed of the bag with teeth grit.

“Yes. Thanks for the cooperation,” you curtly replied.

“Enjoy it whilst it lasts,” he whispered as you left through the doors, the buzz indicating the lock jolting into place.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“How many more, Terry?” You groaned, bumping your head with the file repeatedly. The elevator moved up steadily as Taehyun pressed the third floor with familiarity. But at your sulky tone, he laughed.

“Three more. I'm surprised you started complaining this late.” He mused.

“I've been complaining the whole time.”

“Well, you better hold it because the last dude is on the fourth floor, completely alone,” he explained. The elevator doors opened with a ding and you followed with questions breaking past the dam that was supposed to be your calm. You rushed to his pace.

“Alone? Why is he the only one up there?” You inquired, already flipping through your file.

“The higher we go, the more caution we need. The last dude is probably written in your notes somewhere. Forgot his name,” Taehyun said as he flashed his ID to the guards. You did the same before entering the deeper hallway, the cream corridor decorated with two main doors. Taehyun sighed and stretched his arms upwards.

“Left or right?”

Good question. You flipped your file to the ‘3rd’ tab, and then read down the page hastily.

On your right was Sim Jaeyun—quiet and calculating, someone who was like the dark horse. Only existing in the shadows but a plan crafted by him meant perfect execution and skill.

On your right was Park Sunghoon—a no-bullshit vampire, even more calculating and a violence that he hid all too well, knowing he craved dominion over his actions.

Again, no good way.

“Left it is.” You sighed.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The blinds were pulled as if on instinct and there he was sat, leather cuffs bound around his wrists and the standard chain around his ankle. Of course, he didn't stare immediately, but you thought you saw his head slightly itch, as if he heard something new. Something new to prey on.

“Okay, you know the drill. I should just leave you alone.” Taehyun placed the bag and syringe into your large lab coat pocket.

“Don't you dare,” you shot back at him before guiding yourself over to the sliding door.

Taehyun did a fake salute before you went in, and the door slid shut behind you as always. The silence didn't shock you as much, but you still expected to hear at least one of them breathing a little loudly.

But no. Their breaths were all timed, in sync, and connected.

The stranger thing with Sunghoon was that he didn't speak. Not as you wiped his neck, not when you injected the drug, not when you let him feed off the animal blood. It was incredibly unnerving, and the lack of words or comments sent your stomach tightening in discomfort. It ate at your nerves.

When you were done, his gaze ran over your figure once before he looked down again, but you knew his ears were alert, keeping note of your heartbeat.

Even Taehyun was surprised as you and him left Sunghoon's suite. He blinked rapidly.

“Man, he was easy.”

“I would rather he talked. The whole time, I felt like he was going to rip my arteries out,” you countered. Taehyun smiled nervously as he punched in the code to Jake's lab suite.

“That would be interesting for me, you know?”

“Shut up, Terry!”

As routine, Taehyun went to retrieve the blood bag and syringe whilst you lifted the blinds to reveal a dejected Jake.

With his fringe containing his gaze, he kept a neutral expression with his hands also bound by the same leather cuffs, and a single chain to his ankle. Though, his body was ridden with tension and expectation despite the stillness sweeping over him.

“Okay, nearly done. You're doing great,” Taehyun said. Agreeing with a hum, you went in without a word, and you walked up to him with no hesitation this time. Jake glanced. You froze.

Cold and dead. That is what came to your mind first when Jake's gaze flickered to you, and it had the same ability to dissect your skin and trigger every goosebump.

With a second to gather yourself, you got the syringe and twisted the cap off. Jake shifted.

“What a pretty heartbeat,” he murmured as if he was in a trance. Oh gosh, maybe vampire Riki was right about one of them just seizing your heart. You just gave a look before wiping his neck, burying your tremble.

“Fresh. So fresh,” he whispered again, and you prepared the syringe, wishing you could just pause your heartbeat so they would stop pointing it out.

With no reply, Jake let the corner of his lips tilt up. “And you know it.”

Your hand nearly shuddered but you forced yourself to sink in the needle a little more harshly than intended. Jake grunted loudly, almost recoiling, but with your hasty actions, the drug emptied out into his system, the black veins appearing in a simultaneous flow up his neck.

You would apologise, but your throat was sewn shut, and you grasped the blood bag wordlessly, holding it to his lips. Disbelief and repulsion became stone in his eyes, but he drank, fangs flashing as he closed his lips around the straw.

His words, admittedly, did bother you. They were so targeted, well-thought, and now you knew that Jake constructed his words just as well in the deeper shadows of his mind. Not too slow, not too fast. Just enough to rattle whatever foundation your confidence was set on. He was made to break those pillars holding you together.

The blood was finished and Jake sat back, fists resting on his thighs. He smirked again as you stood straight, maintaining distance.

“Gosh, I would prefer your pulse on my lips instead,” he said as if it was a confession meant to please you.

It did the opposite and you had no strength to even reply because you headed for the door with another gaze marking your back.

And you left.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Taehyun led you to the fourth floor, this one being brighter and guarded with three men instead of the usual two. You mentally counted this vampire to be the last.

“More guards?” You stated as the men let you into the bright corridor. Taehyun hummed in agreement, hands in pockets.

“We had to. According to what I heard, this dude's bloodlust is on another level. But… he's weirdly talkative,” he replied as he took you to the door, punched in a code and entered with you close behind.

This time, you flipped the file open to the last page and read through with urgency.

Finally, Yang Jungwon. The last vampire and supposedly the leader, the one seen always at the crime scene with a cunning smile and a skill built for hunting blood. He was intelligent, twisting, but it seemed that he didn't work well enough now that he was caught and locked away..

As Taehyun did the normal, you went to the blinds and pulled them up. As soon as you did, a figure stood right at the glass, tall, arms crossed over slightly as leather bounds coiled his wrists, the chain at his ankle, and his blonde hair barely concealing the dark eyes simmering with something intense. You yelped when you were forced to face him, and he smirked as he swept his eyes over the alarm tightening every muscle. Your pulse raced.

So much so for keeping control over it.

Taehyun, on hearing your startled sound, came and sighed when he observed how Jungwon was standing, waiting. He was ready to scare you, and you let him.

Embarrassed, you gulped hard and took the blood bag and syringe from Taehyun. Wordlessly, he led you to the sliding door. Before you went in, he held your arm gently.

“Careful. Keep calm,” he whispered. It was oddly strange to hear his seriousness, but you nodded and slipped into the prison room, exhaling.

Silence didn't greet you this time. It was broken by Jungwon making a hum sound, feet padding along the floor.

“Your heart practically jumped out your chest,” he mused, grinning only slightly to no one but himself. You swallowed hard, trying to keep all corners of your composure together. If you didn't get a hold of yourself, he would just hold it over your head.

Taking a few steps in, you observed him circling once, and then back before he stopped and stared more intensely than the moment at the glass.

Your features burned and tingled as he took in each inch of you.

“You're… new. Familiar, but new,” he muttered, mentally noting it as he stepped closer. You didn't move.

You're doing your own analysing.

“I'm an intern,” you replied quietly. Jungwon parted his lips in realisation, an epiphany that dawned on him like moonlight. He tilted his head in fascination.

“Right, right. Your impatience resembles another scientist here. Hm, and the same eyes, same type of scent,” he muttered again, walking himself through some thoughts that you unfortunately couldn't pinpoint.

Then, he turned again. “Your mother is the senior scientist here. Oh, I mean… researcher.”

You didn't expect him to guess so quickly or to even pay so much attention to your mother, or you. At your silence, he clapped once, mocking.

“I'm right. Yes, of course. Your mother decided to drug and feed us like experiments. Makes me wonder what she will do next…” he walked closer to you, and you didn't move back despite his brooding height.

“Maybe, she will keep us, take our blood, keep our blood, and well… research our DNA, maybe try to locate the exact origin of our… monstrosity.” He smiled again with something slow and precise. As if he was about to pounce. “But, let me tell you something, Intern Song.”

Jungwon strode to you so quickly that you almost jumped back, but the tension locked you in place. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head as excitement sparked alive in his gaze. It easily melted whatever assurance you scraped together. How annoying.

“We don't… just own this monstrosity. It is not… simply carried in our genes. No…”

He let his face close in around your neck, and you turned away slightly, clenching your fists.

“We embody this, we own this monstrosity. We are it.” He breathed, and then closed his eyes when he inhaled your scent and senses the pulse jumping in your neck.

“So, tell your mother… to quit her prying.”

Finally, you broke away and stepped back and relaxed only a fraction since his chain limited him. Then, you glared.

“We are only taking your blood and keeping you here because we need to reverse your effects on those you have bitten.” You gripped the sides of your lab coat.

He didn't look surprised, but more pleased. As if he found what he was looking for and he was spot on. And now, you were humiliated that you let him get to you.

“I see.” He simply shrugged and walked back to the bench built into the wall. That was your sign to get this over and done with. Determined, you stepped towards him and retrieved the syringe hastily, and he watched with a callous gaze, analysing again as if he was building some mental profile of you. You wished so deeply to punch him, but you simply wiped the area on his neck and injected him with the suppressant drug.

Like the others, black lines travelled through his veins, decorating his skin, and Jungwon silently endured it, shutting his eyes briefly before they fluttered open again, silence gripping his muscles suffocating them.

Wordlessly, you got the blood bag's straw open and nudged it towards his lips, but he took his time to glance down, stare at your fingers and wrist, before taking the blood.

He drank slowly, you noted. Much slower than the others, as if he enjoyed this type of blood. He didn't exude the same disgust like the others. You could tell he was thinking, though. Scheming away and it was all locked away in the dark place of his mind.

When he finished and you were busy disposing of it, Jungwon straightened his back, letting his eyes strayed to your neck, your collarbone slightly hidden beneath the lab coat, and then to where your heart resided. Slightly hasty, but soft. You were annoyed.

“You know, Intern Song, you can't cage monsters for long,” he began saying, letting his head tilt. That same anchor of unease hit you in the middle of the chest as your gaze returned to him.

He smiled, leaning forward but his chin flitted up to you with something hidden and proud. “Because we all have to face them at some point. They always manage to… sneak past every type of defense at the most unexpected times.”

You ripped your attention away from him and walked to the sliding door to hear his voice suddenly right behind you. Whipping your head around, Jungwon already loomed over you, ropes straining against his wrists, the chain to his ankle taut as his gaze hardened.

When did he even move? Even the chains were silent in his presence. A shudder consumed your heartbeat.

“Goodbye… until next time, of course,” he murmured, muscles almost twitching to get closer and break the restraints’ boundaries.

Each breath got caught in your chest, and you rushed out his cell, locking him in behind you. Even then, another gaze was burned into your back, adding to the six others that had already marked you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next day was busy as always. With autumn nigh and here, more and more younger students were chosen to tour the facility, specifically the East Wing for the laboratory research held there.

The West was undoubtedly too risky to explore, especially with criminals residing within them. You wouldn't wish the experience on anyone; the vampires’ silent schemes were hidden yet their aura echoed and sunk into your bones, making it hard to forget.

With the clouds latched onto the city of Seoul, you walked with Soobin, another gentleman like Taehyun, to where the reception would be. Before the small tour, you read some facts and data on the place, preparing yourself for any questions related to your own experience here.

“How many students?” You asked him as he pushed up the bridge of his glasses.

“Well, five of them were chosen. Smaller means more containment,” he said with a small smile. Which was true. It kept your own sanity strung in place if anything happened. God forbid, it did.

When arriving at the main area, you and Soobin introduced yourselves before setting off with the students. Three girls and two boys with pens and notebooks in hand, and with a visitor ID hanging around their necks.

First, it was showing them the labs, without going inside. Soobin took the lead, explaining how they tested and repeated the routine all in order to figure out how certain cells would react with chemicals.

Then, you took the lead of explaining how the facility was strict with their routines, keeping the environment locked away from contamination and such.

It was pretty simple until a student raised his hand nervously. Soobin, delighted, smiled and let him speak.

“Um… can't you show us something different? It's also where the vampires are kept, too, right?” He said, spreading his hope to the other students who also straightened their postures in expectation.

You gave Soobin a panicked side-eye, and he returned it with equal measure before blinking back at the students. He clamped his hands together, smiling sheepishly.

“Um… well, I can show you one room, but don't touch anything.”

The students nodded obediently and Soobin began to lead the way with you by his side. As much as your questions threatened to break out, you followed along until he reached a room and punched in the code, taking the students in.

It was a clean room, grey walls but what shocked you was the weapons encased in glass, sparkling under individual spotlights within the case, and the iconic black masks caged in another glass row.

There was a range of weapons—a metal hacksaw with sharp edges protruding on the frame, glittering with violence; a mace where the ball at the end of the chain had metal thorns jutting out the surface, almost making your skin crawl from the promised murder it could commit; a metal bat with barbed wire wrapped around the weapon itself, metal edges hanging off the frame.

It wasn't even the worst part because your eyes finally laid on the chainsaw, the metal shining under the spotlight, the stories and previous blood of victims almost ingrained under the surface.

You swallowed hard, but the students seemed to enjoy it, mumbling amongst themselves of how ‘insightful' it was.

As much as you were also curious to know why these were here, you couldn't contain the unease clamped around your chest, weighing it down.

It didn't matter now because Soobin clapped his hands together and smiled at the students to bring their attention back.

“These weapons were used to commit the heinous murders by the vampires,” he began, walking along with you to the hacksaw. Underneath, the metal label had the number ‘07' engraved in it, like a knell that you mentally heard when you stared for too long.

“I heard of a myth,” a boy said behind you. “That there's a blood moon that they ready themselves for.”

That was new for you. Despite working here, you never bothered to dig deeper into the vampire and their lore, their past. Well, you never bothered because killers weren't worth your time and you didn't care. So, you found yourself glancing at the student with equal interest as the others.

When everyone turned to him, he smiled sheepishly.

“It's just some reading I did before coming here. I read that every two hundred years, these vampires get stronger in their abilities than last time.” He glanced around the group. You tensed.

“So, they were weak to begin with?” A girl asked with a slight scoff, as if she didn't believe that murderers could possess any type of weakness.

“Well, I don't know exactly. It's all just theory. Well, it's believed their bloodlust grows stronger as well as their abilities.” He answered thoughtfully.

You tried to recall any type of information—one thing these vampires could do was release venom to turn normal people into a more unstable version of them. Not quite the same, but their sanity would loosen until it was hard to find the ends of it and tighten it all over again.

So, if their abilities included bloodlust, venom, and any other personal powers, it basically meant these creatures would be unstoppable if they reached a certain threshold.

And for these vampires, you have no idea how much strength they have preserved underneath their psychotic surfaces, but you honestly didn't want to dig past and see.

And for the patients in the private part of the East Wing, from what you know, they haven't completely turned. They were teetering on the edge, but the lab scientists were all trying to pull them back before they fall into vampirism. That was the whole goal for your mother. To find their fraying sanity and sew it together again.

Soobin, intrigued, hummed along and nodded. “I think I reason about it but honestly, I don't know if these vampires actually have that… ritual.”

“It would be useful to study,” another student said, and quite honestly, you had to somewhat agree and disagree.

Having them under the facility's roof was already dangerous enough—you didn't want to wait for an opportunity for them to power up and supposedly find a new path to wreak irreversible havoc.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The whole week went by and gladly, you weren't asked to administer the drugs again. Your mother still thought it was a valuable lesson, but you kept some details to yourself. She seemed so chill about it, and you didn't want to reveal how easy it was for you to drown in the anxiety of it all.

Right now, though, you glanced outside to the chilling night, the moon concealed behind the murky clouds. The light was prominent, almost glowing behind the blanket of misty water.

She was still out there. As if the moon was holding her breath, concealed for a reason, waiting to bestow her moonlight on the world below.

Shuddering to yourself, you entered the lab with those annoying plastic glasses and your hair tied back. The lab was bustling, as usual, with your mother at the centre of it.

She was standing before this rack of small vials, the dark blue liquid still, waiting to be given, and she wrote fervently in her notebook. When she saw you, she smiled and ushered you over.

“You look oddly excited,” you noted. She waved you off with her hand.

“Just my life's work,” she replied in equal retaliation, reminding you her stubborn genes definitely passed to you. She noticed you scanning her notes and moved it closer.

She pointed to the patients’ names. “They were all bitten so, are being turned as we know it. But, with our drugs, we managed to delay it.”

You nodded because you knew this. “Okay? So, what's the news?”

Her turmoil returned with the crease of her brow.

“Whatever cells were infected with the venom, we managed to stop its process, but today, I was overlooking their conditions and it seems that the cells are being turned again. As if… the venom just overrode the drugs given.” She glanced at you with worry. That didn't sound good.

“It could be a mutation?” You suggested but she shook her head.

“Venom doesn't behave like a virus or bacteria. It can't… change itself, but it can interact with patients' DNA and induce change. But how likely is that to happen to all the patients there?” She explained with confusion laced in her tone. “And besides, my drug should work in finding the infected cells and stop the venom changing them. But, it's like the venom is immune to it.”

Definitely not good. If the constricted drug didn't work anymore, it meant having to make a new one. Not only that, but when you tried to connect the dots, it either meant someone wasn't administering the correct dosage or someone put more venom into their bodies to shatter all use of the current drugs.

But how likely was it that all the patients had the same exact change? Not likely at all. And now, your suspicions clutched at your nerves, chewing on them.

She shut the file with a slam and gazed at the blue vials before her in little circular tubes, pointing at them.

“I made a stronger dose. Taehyun is testing it on some blood samples,” she said with a pensive sigh. You nodded along and, at that moment, Taehyun returned with a sealed box and a file underneath it. With a desperate gesture to him, he came to where you and your mother were and probably with news.

She beamed at him with expectancy, but he simply sighed with a sheepish smile. That was the code for an unsuccessful finding.

“I gave the stronger dose as asked, but…” he opened the file with an easy flick. “The drug was killing normal, healthy cells as well. So.”

She touched her temples again, stress seeping through her and catching you and Taehyun in its grasp.

“Great. So, we can't even use this one either.” She muttered, moving the multiple blue vials aside. Taehyun nodded solemnly whilst your gaze wandered to the window, to the moon that peeked out in the corner, a pink tint blushing across the surface. You squinted, but the sound of your mother mumbling brought you back.

Something bubbled in the back of your mind.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

6 PM.

You were engrossed in your notes, scribbling away in your book as your gaze flickered from the computer to your words.

The thought of those patients suffering from possible vampirism and the strong venom brought you back to one moment: the students you and Soobin toured last week, and the conversation of the blood moon.

Sure, it was a myth, but myths were usually born with a small seed of truth. You just needed to get an actual sense of it.

Hence, you were hunched over the computer, finding any type of useful Internet search.

As said before, the blood moon happened every two hundred years where the vampires usually gained strength until becoming unstoppable. Natural abilities would develop vastly, their desire for blood would consume and bury their sanity, and their venom… would work quicker and harder to turn a person.

Bingo.

Hastily staring out the window, you glimpsed the deeper blush of the moon, light bleeding through the clouds and making your hunch even more believable. You have no idea if your mother will believe you with this… shaky basis, but an explanation was an explanation.

And you had to deliver.

Packing up your things, you recalled your mother leaving with Taehyun, but you don't know where. Taking your little notepad, you set off to find the pair.

The halls were scarce, but you still waved as people passed you to do their business. After asking a few people, you ended up in the West Wing, the familiar cream halls hushed and eerie, your shoes rhythmically tapping along. Apparently, he came here to do the normal drug rounds about thirty minutes ago. You wished he didn't because it meant having to retrace your footsteps to the vampires. They all gave you the creeps. Evidently.

Whatever. Get in, and then get out. Simple mantra to follow.

After going through the first three floors, you ended up at the fourth, punching in the code and entering the chilled and thrumming lab.

Taehyun stood with his back to you, sorting through some papers and turned when he heard you come through the door.

You were glad the blinds to Jungwon's window were closed. If you had him staring, you're sure he would be able to read your lips.

“Hey? You look eager,” he said with a smile, returning to the documents. Rushing over, you held out your notepad and flipped to the scribble of notes you had enthusiastically collected.

“I might know why those patients are turning to vampirism more rapidly,” you began saying, and then looked around the lab to notice your mother wasn't even here. Your shoulders deflated. Taehyun noticed.

“She went to a meeting. But, go on with the theory,” he said, leaning on the counter with his elbows. It would have been helpful to explain it once, but her responsibilities must have been stretching your mother four ways. You straightened yourself.

Enthusiastic about sharing your ideas, you went to read out your notes when the lights knocked out and darkness flashed through the room in a blink.

You gasped, glancing up to look for Taehyun who also made a few footsteps, worried and cautious. Your muscles tightened, as if there was a physical knot within.

“Tae?” You uttered, squinting as the dim safety lights peeked from the ceilings. It was barely helpful because Taehyun was a mere silhouette rather than a being with colours and facial features. He stepped towards you.

“This is weird. We should get out of here,” he said with a sharp edge of caution.

“Agreed,” you mumbled, glancing up from your notepad only to jump slightly.

That's when you saw it, or… him.

Another dark figure standing dangerously close to Taehyun's back, head tilted, but the sparkle of his fangs instantly shot you with panic. You reached for Taehyun.

“Terry—”

Upon the looming figure behind him, he turned and the figure lunged, tackling Taehyun until his back collided with the table.

A startled scream escaped you as the familiar blonde attempted to claw Taehyun in the neck, but your friend kneed the vampire in the thigh, sending him with a stumble. Taehyun breathed hard but he wasn't done as he charged at the vampire with limbs ready for fight. Adrenaline flooded his system as he landed another punch at the creature, a low growl escaping him.

You realised you couldn't stand there and do nothing, not when the adrenaline hitched up your chest like spikes digging into soil. The refrigerator was in the corner and that's where you went.

With your heart slamming in your ribs, you hauled it open and the bright light stared back at you, stacks of syringes in packets ready to be used. There was no time.

Snagging a syringe, you peeled it open and took it out, swiftly unscrewing the cap over the thin needle.

Just one of these should do the trick. When you kicked the fridge shut, a loud crash shot through the room as Taehyun was thrown over the table and to the hard floor, and the vampire easily hovered over him, fist drawn back with a promise of malice. Taehyun yelled out in pain, hands fumbling to shield himself in a panic.

That was it.

Wasting no time, you dug the syringe into the vampire's neck, pushing the drug all the way in.

A snarl escaped him as he rolled his neck, black veins fading in and travelling up his skin. It was enough for Taehyun to crawl away with sharp, ragged breaths, towards the door.

The syringe remained in his skin, as if it didn't bother him. What faltered your very thoughts was how he simply stood, anger rolling off him like you threw a stone into a still lake, forcing ripples to drift outwards.

The fear froze up your legs, and you tried to force yourself to move, but you could only take a simple step back.

Then, he turned and Jungwon's frown dug into his face, his hand plucking out the syringe, and within a single breath, he crushed it into pieces.

Shit.

Why wasn't he weakening? Since when did he escape? How was he so strong?

And you remembered the blood moon, the pink tint that swallowed it and your breath shook as well as your heartbeat.

His gaze twitched, as if he heard it, too. Jungwon took a step forward. You took one back.

That's when the lab door shut with Taehyun rushing out in a panic, leaving you alone with… him.

Great. Alone. Defenseless.

“You think that will hurt me anymore?” He said lowly, stalking you with a practiced slowness, as if he knew there were no cuffs to restrict him, as if he tasted liberation. Breath hitching, you turned to run, but he was quicker.

He swiped your arm and yanked you close to him, and you yelped, bumping into his chest with trembling breaths. Tipping your chin up with a bruising grip to your jaw, he leaned down, enough for you to spot the crimson blood in his eyes.

“Here's what's going to happen,” he murmured darkly, drinking in the fearful whimper that fell from your lips. “Since your… friend left you, you're stuck with me. Meaning…”

His nose just about grazed your neck to hear the marathon your pulse was running at. “You're going to help me get my brothers out. And… well, you're great leverage.”

Your hands fumbled, clawing at his wrist, but he flexed his grip, and you let out a cry when his strength grew inhumane. You felt like your jaw would break. He scoffed.

“How did you—”

“I think we both know the answer to that. And, no more questions. We have much to do,” he interjected, letting go of your jaw only to drag you along with him to the door.

As he did, an alarm blared, red lights circling the room, and a robotic voice yelling “lockdown”.

Metal shutters fell down the door, sealing it shut, but Jungwon rolled his eyes at the hindrance.

“What are the procedures in the lockdown?” He asked with a slight shake to your arm. When you didn't reply, he snapped his eyes to your stunned form, and glared.

“What. Are. They?”

You snapped out of the terror gripping your lungs, a shaky breath leaving you. Besides, there was no choice with the way he was burying his nails into your arm.

“All doors… and windows are sealed shut, lights stay like this. And there are cameras in here and outside to oversee anyone. Guards will be at their stations,” you replied quietly as he contemplated silently. After a few seconds, he straightened himself and dragged you along with him to the door.

With a harsh shove of the shoulder, the hinges flew and the door broke open into the hallway, hitting the opposite wall. You flinched, but Jungwon paid no mind, acting as if it was paper.

The hallway was the same, the red light circling in the dark corridor, the ends of the hallway shadowed with darkness as if there were things hiding in there. Shutters were closed at the next door as well, but his care ceased to exist.

When approaching the next door, he put a strict finger to his lips directed at you. You didn't need to be told twice and you clenched your jaw obediently.

Leaning his ear to the door, he closed his eyes briefly, stayed, and then opened them once more. Crimson. A much darker shade and you had to stop yourself from tugging your arm away from his grip. You're afraid he might rip your veins out if you do.

He obviously must have heard something because he gripped you out in front of him, now holding your shoulder, and with one hand, he clenched his fists and crushed the metal as if it was cardboard, and tore it away, flinging it to the side

The terror flooded your chest, forcing your breaths to come out ragged, your heart thundering in panic.

“You better stop panicking. It's too tempting,” he mumbled behind you. With one last shred to the shutter, it was enough for the normal door to show

Again, he shoved the door off the hinges, silence chilling the other side where the elevator stood not too far. The guards should be here, the three that guard him. You kept that to yourself.

An eerie stillness hummed in anticipation, the very sound wrapping around you like metal, chilling your nerves. Jungwon walked you forward a few steps with slow caution.

Within a second, a bullet rang out behind you with a shrill shriek, hitting somewhere on the far side when Jungwon swiftly dodged it, annoyance flooding him.

Jungwon wasted no time and shoved you to the floor, rolling you away from the danger as you grunted from the pain rippling up your hip. You sat up, the ringing making a home in your ears.

Another bullet.

Jungwon rolled his shoulders, craning his gaze to the two guards on his left, and the other on his right.

He took the right first, lunging with an insane speed that you barely knew when he flew. He clutched the young man's collar, ignoring the scream, and threw the guard at the others.

In response, one guard caught him with a stagger, but the dude who wasn't burdened with a person clicked his gun and aimed like a mental routine. It wasn't enough.

Jungwon pounced, snatching the gun only to smash it into the head of the dude with a sickening thud that hurt your own head.

Dude number one dropped. The other two scrambled away, but Jungwon scoffed, anger crawling up his shoulders and fists.

You shakily breathed, getting to your feet with haste, hating how the trembles anchored your legs. It wasn't the time to be choked with fear. The exit was right there for you to seize.

You headed for the stairs at the side. The elevators didn't work in a lockdown annoyingly enough, but the grudges could wait until later. You would love to have a talk with the head of security. All these useless thoughts were grounding you to whatever hope was left in the dirt of it all. Of making it out alive.

Another sickening crack rang out, a scream, and then the sound of a man gurgling, as if choking for air.

The sounds alone made you sick, but you coaxed yourself to reach the stairwell. As you pushed it open, a sudden hand grasped your nape and whirled you around with a cruel hand. You cried out, meeting with the same malicious gaze, his blonde hair messy but his stare was sharp all the same. Only now, the restraint was running thinner, close to snapping.

“You're not running. Unless you want to end up like those three,” he threatened as the anxiety bled into your nerves. With no reply, he pushed open the stairwell that was bathed in a fading red light and darkness. You followed the grip on your upper arm, swiftly stepping down and trying not to trip like your heartbeat.

Arriving on the third floor, he slowed again and closed his eyes as if trying to distinguish something that you couldn't hear. When he opened them, he pushed you through the doors first.

You stumbled into the hallway, meeting the two guards standing before a shuttered door with shaky breaths. They glanced at you, and when you tried to tell them about Jungwon, a person blurred past before you could comprehend.

The guard barely knew what hit him and a fist knocked his jaw out of place. He fell back.

The second guard stood no chance when he raised his gun only to be pummelled in the stomach with a forceful kick. You flinched as his back collided with the wall, a thunderous echo making it clear his spine was rearranged. Jungwon didn't spare a blink as he took the guns from each writhing guard sprawled on the floor for his own. He beckoned you with a sharp look and you reluctantly approached him.

Jungwon brushed his knuckles before ruining the doors like paper once more. The metal flew as he swung it to the side, and he dragged you with him.

Upon the next dark hallway, you saw two figures, tall with scarlet eyes that glowed stronger than the red warning lights. In other words—more trouble.

Sunghoon and Jake stood whilst you shuddered as their gazes spotted and scrutinised your figure with recognition that felt like thorns to your skin.

“You're here.” Jake glanced to an approaching Jungwon. He hummed in response as if obvious.

“Yeah. Was a little late because someone here tried to drug me again,” he sneered and all their gazes pointed to you again.

Gosh, it was simply a procedure. Considering the drug didn't even work, he was being awfully salty right now. He had a lot of it despite the lack of blood he would have normally consumed.

You didn't need their judgement right now, not when they could so easily kill you. You lowered your gaze slightly and Jungwon let go of you, but this time, you stayed in your spot.

You had to stay smarter than sorry.

“Do you think Sunoo and Jay are out?” Sunghoon spoke for the first time, and the coldness in them sent chills to freeze your spine. Jake made a sound of possible agreement.

“They could. But we said we would meet them there.” Jake sighed, his fangs glinting at you in a threat.

“Even if they're not out, she knows the codes anyway. Or we can break past the doors,” Jungwon murmured, running a hand through his hair.

Through all this, one thing that you caught was the fact that they planned this. About meeting each other, breaking out the prisons—it was all initially planned and webbed together in a way that was unpredictable. You felt stupid for thinking this myth wouldn't exist when it was the only plausible explanation for their dramatic strength. Ripping through metal shutters, escaping the coded prisons; no drug could have foretold that.

A new question simmered in your head: did they plan to get into this prison then? But why? What would they achieve with that?

You were clutching at straws, loose ends, and it made your heart skip a beat. All three of them glanced and you felt like crawling into the ground. Jake licked his lips.

“One bite?”

“No, hyung.” Jungwon scanned over the fear fluttering over your eyes with intrigue and restraint. “I doubt she would survive even a small cut. She wouldn't be so useful then, would she?”

Jake rolled his eyes and grumbled: “fine.”

Whether that gave you relief or more anxiety, you had no idea. You tried to calm your heart with a deep inhale and exhale.

“No point of loitering here. Let's go.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Like before, when you and the other three arrived on the second floor, the guards were taken out so swiftly that you couldn't even react, nor warn them of it. They forced the security doors open, metal decorating the floor and forcing you into the hallway with two doors that would have Sunoo and Jay locked in.

Sunghoon barged into the left with no problem, and Jake to the right. And in the midst of all this, you wondered if your mother was okay, whether Taehyung (despite him abandoning you) was surrounded by safety. No more deaths, you told yourself. Both of them were smart. Much more than you, a simple intern. It was the only thing keeping you from sinking into a hole of panic. But the edges were fraying, your feet were slipping.

Jungwon remained standing behind you when his head perked up curtly.

Footsteps. Hurried and heavy, filled with metal and hostility.

The sound reached you as well, and you turned to the doorway with broken metal edges and failed security.

“For Hell's sake,” he muttered before zeroing in on the multiple armoured guards with guns, helmets and radios buzzing to life, all approaching strategically.

They only flooded the doors and when they saw you, one of them put a hand up to the others behind him. Jungwon easily shielded himself with you and, despite your struggles, he kept you in one place, a malicious sparkle glinting past his eyes like a tide.

“Release her. Now.” One dude yelled, pointing his gun in your direction. Your heart jumped. Jungwon tilted his head, not moving you an inch.

Oh, man, you were about to die today. Tugging away again, Jungwon gripped your nape with his free hand, and your breath hitched, pain tingling in your skin. The grip was a display of power, control, that he would make the decisions.

You froze again.

“Release her, otherwise we will be forced to shoot,” the man shouted again as a threat. A chuckle slipped past Jungwon.

“Feel free. I mean, I could bite her for a quicker death, if that's what you guys want?” He mused, challenging them even more by lowering his lips to your neck. You recoiled hard but didn't get anywhere with your nape caught in his grip.

The man and the guards all froze, obviously caught in a dilemma. Jungwon smiled again, lifting his chin with pride. “There we go. Now, if you don't mind, we will keep her safe as long as you keep away.”

“We?” The main guard repeated in a low voice. As he said that, two figures emerged from each side, silent, predatory. You watched as the vampires, none other than Jay and Sunoo, joined the group, a hunger visible in their stares and straight lips.

You had the slight hint that you were inevitably screwed. Possibly more than you thought.

A wave of apprehension crossed over the guards drowning them entirely, and you were afraid these vampires could sense it.

Sunoo hummed in approval. “Gosh, Jungwon, let me get a bite from one of them. Their heartbeats are too enticing past that poor excuse of an armour.”

Jungwon chuckled, gripping your nape harder, forcing a whimper to catch in your throat, tension locking all your muscles.

“Sunoo, let's control ourselves. We have much more to do.” Jungwon glanced at his brother, who smiled only a little but it was full of that same insanity you had witnessed a week prior. That he was picking apart these soldiers just to play with them.

Jay cracked his knuckles, eyeing them silently. “Let's get it over with.”

That was when Jungwon swung you behind him, and you stumbled to the floor. You grunted, landing on your knees, and when bullets rang out like a cry of oncoming violence that whistled in your ears, you abruptly shielded your face.

The guards lunged, guns aimed at the ready. But the vampires dodged easily, and they practically flew to the men, eyes glowing red with morbid intent.

The first guard was crushed into the ground, a hand pinning his throat to the floor as he gasped out in terror. Sunghoon grinned.

Jay clicked his neck and dove head first, fist flying for a man's shoulder, and the other colliding past the visor and into his face. Screams ripped from his throat and others, but it was simply a sound of succes to him. If he had a heartbeat, it would have been thriving from how alive he felt.

Sunoo strode in, then progressed into a run as he leapt to the wall at his right, catching the men off guard when he pounced, and swung his claws at them; fabric ripped and the men backed away, tripping over each other, but Sunoo grabbed the opportunity and jumped atop some of them before punching through the helmet, denting the metal itself. The man screamed in half terror and pain, limbs flailing aimlessly, but soon fell limp to the ground. Sunoo hummed.

Jake easily went into the heat of the storm and swiped a gun, power surging through him as he turned the metal, clicked it and let the bullets fly.

With the mean wearing vests, Jake snarled and aimed for the neck instead. As time slowed down for him, he briefly froze, aimed, and fired.

The bullet ripped through the uniform and the smell of blood flooding out skin tickled his nose. But there was no time to dwell.

Jungwon's speed advantaged him greatly, moving in a coloured blur and testing his knuckle's ability to endure each cracking punch. When bullets grazed him, his eyes snapped to the perpetrator, and he lunged, clutching their throats and tightening the grip until the squirming body turned limp and void of light.

The smell of death pervaded the air, and you couldn't handle it. You knew they were criminals, but seeing it first hand was embedding a new type of trauma into your heart.

They were distracted, though.

Shakily looking to your right, the emergency exit was lit green, but with a shuttered door over it. The keypad next to it glowed like an opportunity and you saw your chance.

Pushing yourself up, you buried the trembles and anxiety down where it was hard to remember, as if it was a fleeting emotion that didn't exist.

You got to your feet, jaw clenched so tightly that you thought your teeth would turn to dust.

As soon as you reached the keypad, you flipped the plastic cover up and began to search your brain for the codes.

All fire exit codes were the same as the codes for the normal doors. The ones that now had ripped metal defending them.

This was the second floor. And if you remembered the pattern of Taehyun's fingers…

“0203..?” You whispered and began to put the numbers in despite the sounds…

Sounds.

There were none. None of struggling, screaming, or bullets. Your whole body locked into place, unable to move for a moment.

You turned slowly and a hand seized your throat, ripped you away from the fire exit, and you shrieked. The next thing you knew, your body met the ground, your throat still contracting with panic, blood rushing with nerves.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the five of them standing over you in a circle, knuckles tinted with fresh red, barely a scratch on the surface of their skins.

Jungwon looked pissed.

“You don't fucking listen, do you?” He sneered ruthlessly, fists clenched. His voice alone sent another wave to rock your heart. Your breath hitched, holding back tears of pure anxiety.

“Hey, relax. It's not like she can outrun us anyway,” Sunoo said with a permanent smirk of mischief.

Jay tilted his head in consideration. “One bite—?”

“Oh for Hell's sake, no!” Jungwon snapped at the older one, who simply shrugged, used to his temper.

“Gosh, let's just go. Riki and Heeseung are waiting,” Jake said, rolling his eyes with impatience. With a huff, Jungwon hauled you up by the arm and looked to one of the opened doors leading into the prison labs. Within two seconds, he blurred in like the wind, then out but returned with something slender and long. Trembling, you glanced to see him circling rope, the same type that was used to restrain them, around his palm, his gaze unmoving, merciless when it returned to the apprehension thrumming in yours.

You recoiled in refusal but a few hands gripped your shoulders whilst Sunghoon and Jake held out your arms. The panic spiked in you.

“S-stop, wait—”

Jungwon didn't listen and when he came closer, Jake and Sunghoon quite literally crushed your wrists together as you struggled. It was a losing battle from the start.

The rope came around your wrists a few times until he made something intricate and caged you within it. Tears lined your eyes, heartbeat spiking that you didn't care if they heard it anymore. They let go of your shoulders but Jungwon kept a hold of the end of the rope by looping it around his palm once or twice.

“Now, you won't run.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Going down to the first floor, the guards were practically useless because they were knocked out when Jay and Sunghoon dislocated their jaws and probably their internal organs as well.

Sunoo crushed the metal shutters, revealing the normal door and shoved it off its hinges to the dark hallway with two doors still closed.

“We'll take care of it,” Jake said before nodding to Sunghoon. They both disappeared into a separate doorway, and you looked around discreetly.

You can't run with Jungwon keeping your hands on a leash, the guards were knocked out, there were now seven vampires free. If you even attempted another escape plan, you would be asking for a death wish.

Another spike of panic hit your heart, and Sunoo glanced. Jungwon raised an eyebrow at the older one before glaring. “Don't even ask.”

Disbelief swept over Sunoo, a petulant pout appearing briefly. He crossed his arms.

“Oh come on, what are you keeping her for anyway if not for a snack? Do you know how long we had to snack on that animal shit?” Sunoo glanced at your lowered head and trapped hands. Jungwon scowled.

“As much as I also had to have the same blood.” He sighed, head flickering back and forth to hear for any intruders.

“Then, one bite. Just a scratch—”

“Hyung. She is the daughter of that crazy scientist that keeps testing us,” he said. Jungwon tugged once on the rope and you winced, pain tingling in your skin. “So, she could be helpful as leverage, and she probably knows the in and outs of the building.”

“And, after that?” Sunoo prompted, causing Jay to snort behind you. It wasn't the least bit amusing to you, but Jungwon gave a cold smile.

“We'll see.”

That alone sent prickling anxiety to sting your spine and you shifted uncomfortably. Now, you had a deadline—one before they bit you and God knows what.

The doors slammed open again, causing you to flinch and snap your gaze up to spot the last two vampires: Riki and Heeseung.

The oldest one lifted his gaze again in recognition when he saw you, but you honestly didn't have the guts to meet anyone's gaze. Riki smiled and sauntered over, rolling his wrists and neck.

“Finally free. And fresh food—”

“I got first dibs,” Sunoo interrupted and disgust rolled over Riki's face.

“No way, that's not even fair. I wasn't here to even call—”

“That's enough, both of you.” Jungwon snapped his gaze to his fellow brothers. They shut up, but the war of their petty fight continued with their sharp gazes. Slowly, Jungwon's gaze panned to your avoidant eyes.

“Now that all of us are in one place, our plan can continue,” he continued. Heeseung shifted, rolling his arm about to loosen the rigidity sleeping in his skin.

“Yeah, well. We need to get rid of those pesky guards. No doubt they're waiting below with the guns at the ready,” Heeseung mumbled and the others murmured in dejected agreement.

“If they're going to fight with their weapons, we need ours,” Riki scoffed, crossing his arms. Jungwon tugged on the rope to catch your attention. You glanced reluctantly.

“Where are our weapons?” Jungwon asked with an unyielding tone.

You could lie. They know you're a simple intern so, maybe if you just weave a white lie, you wouldn't be aiding them in any more violence. The idea alone sent your heartbeat to race in readiness. Heeseung caught it; swift and drumming in anticipation and he frowned more.

“Don't you dare lie.” He said darkly, causing all of them to loom over you like threatening clouds that were about to drown you in blood or something. With that idea out the window, you swallowed hard to gather your voice.

“... E-East Wing. Ground floor.” You dropped your gaze to the ground.

“And, the cameras,” Jungwon said, flickering his gaze to the black lens focusing on them silently. The others looked as well, faces thundering with disdain for the over-technical facility.

Gradually, he lifted his chin again to the others.

“As long as those cameras are looked at and work, they will send more of their men,” Jungwon said, curtly tightening his palm around the rope. Jay smirked.

“So, we need to get rid of whoever is in the control room.” He glanced at you again, and the scrutiny ran down your head, past your lowered eyes and then your lips. With a tug, Jungwon lifted your gaze.

“You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?” He purred, making your skin crawl, but managing to shake your head.

“I'm o-only an intern. I don't know.” You clenched your fists harder in the bounds.

“Great,” Sunghoon muttered before picking up a piece of scrap metal and hurling it at the camera with a whoosh. It hit the target with a swift slice, and the camera jostled and broke until it sparked, hanging by the wires.

“And we need to get those… those humans to turn completely,” Jungwon muttered, contemplating his control and the exact route to reach that destination.

“They're still here? Then, we can just bite them again. Our venom will work completely,” Sunoo suggested, licking over his fangs at the thought of biting into fresh flesh again. Heeseung nodded.

“It will. Especially tonight.”

You grit your teeth.

You knew these vampires were strong. Stronger than ever. The blood moon would make sure they carved their power and control into everything. But, how do you even go about defeating them?

You rewinded everything these past few weeks and days, down to the hours before the facility broke into chaos. Then, it hit you like a fleeting arrow.

The trial drug your mother was working on. The one where Taehyun claimed it killed normal body cells as well. One would have to assume these vampires still had healthy and normal body cells to that of humans, but it was worth a shot. The only hard part was baiting them to go into the East Wing labs on the second floor without them deciphering your plan and making their threats real.

“I doubt they kept those humans,” Riki snorted, crossing his arms. You perked your head up slightly.

“You mean the patients in the East ward?”

They all snapped their gazes to you, intrigued but some were cautious, building up their own defenses.

“Patients?” Heeseung repeated slowly, almost as if the idea of these people being healed was a ludicrous idea.

“Yes. It's… one of the main reasons that people work at the facility,” you replied quietly, fighting through the hope that considered sparking away and setting your mind on edge. They didn't believe you. You knew it, but your stare remained before Jungwon sighed.

“We need to split, so more ground is covered.”

The split ended up being so that Jungwon, Sunoo, Sunghoon, and Jake went to get the weapons and take out the man in the control room; Heeseung, Riki and Jay would go with you to the East ward.

Despite all this, you hoped your mother would still be hiding in the lab, thinking of ways to shut down these vampires once and for all.

Or incapacitate them if death wasn't a door discovered meant for these vampires.

Concern ached and clutched at your nerves when you thought about Soobin, Taehyun, and your mother in the path of safety.

You grit your teeth as Heeseung held the end of the rope, Jay behind you, and Riki leading everyone. The hallways were still basked on emergency red light circling the area, and you wondered if the moon out there was the same furious colour.

As all three cautiously stalked through the corridors, you began to speak.

“You guys knew the Blood Moon would happen tonight…” it wasn't a question but a statement, something accusatory. Heeseung tightened his grip on the rope, not sparing a single glance.

“Why wouldn't we?” He kept following Riki, who turned back once.

“I thought it was a myth.” You mumbled again and Jay scoffed behind you, walking closer to your back.

“Myths always have some kind of truth behind it, an event that makes it real,” he said with something certain. Of course. They have probably never told anyone that they keep track of the moon, waiting to bloom with strength. Smart because no one saw it coming. Not even the Facility.

“Why? What story?” You pressed again and Heeseung tugged you abruptly, and you stumbled to him and his eyes simmered with annoyance.

“You ask too many questions.”

“Nah, let me explain,” Riki took, sounding pleased, over as he continued walking. Heeseung scanned your blinking eyes over once more before following.

“Since your institution probably won't take this seriously, I'll say it.” Riki threw a glance at you. “It starts with our parents. They made a deal with the devil. God knows what, but we were born.”

Jay made a sound of slight disagreement. “You know that the deal was made so we would survive in that… village. It was small, but sickness always hit them.”

“Yeah, yeah. Plagues and stuff. But, our parents made sure they would keep us alive. Hence, the deal,” Riki turned the corner, eyeing the dark corridor that led to the East Wing. Still abandoned and circling with red lights. Heeseung spotted the camera, and walked, tugging you along.

“Clear. The cameras aren't making that fuckass sound,” he muttered to the others and you were led along.

Jay continued behind you. “We were kept in one, large cottage. Cosy, but they didn't let us go out even once.”

“Like your mother,” Riki snickered in sarcasm, and you ignored the jab.

“We were kids, we didn't know why. We thought they were protecting us,” Jay said again, something hardening into betrayal underneath.

“But, you guys were turning?” You finished off and Riki shrugged.

“Not exactly. We didn't feel anything of the sort. Not until Jungwon hyung went out into the forest one day,” he explained, piquing your interest as you and the others disappeared into the darkening halls.

“Jungwon went out without permission, but when he came back, he was covered in blood, mouth to toe. But he wasn't crying,” Jay picked up.

At the thought of a young Jungwon basically drowning in blood made your stomach curl a little, all appetite fleeing your body. Riki chuckled slightly.

“Don't forget how he dragged a human back to the house,” he replied, deepening the horror into your skin.

Your steps slightly faltered but Heeseung tugged harder on your chafed wrists, and you winced. Jay gave you a nudge forward.

“Right. The first of many.” But Jay wasn't speaking out of revulsion—it sounded like reverence, as if it was a blessing in disguise. “And from there, it was like a domino effect. Jungwon first, Sunghoon and Jake, then Sunoo and I. Then, Heeseung hyung and Riki. Each one of us turned and so, our bloodlust grew. It's pathetic how our parents didn't protect us, but protected the village from us.”

Their parents knew but didn't even bother to tell them. Did they know before or after? Did they ever try to stop them? What happened to that village?

All those questions returned to the surface, wanting to be picked and answered, but your voice had shrunk upon hearing the origin of all their violence.

“Hey, our parents made us like this, and I'm grateful.” Riki shot an impish look at Jay, who rolled his eyes.

“Well, I can't lie and say it wasn't liberating. It was. It felt like we had no walls to keep us in. And each of us have different abilities. We only learned that later.” Jay glanced at the curiosity fluttering in your eyes.

“So, you didn't have those to begin with?” You looked over your shoulder briefly, but kept walking. In response, he shook his head.

“Why do you think we have the Blood Moon?” He replied slyly.

“To kill as many people as you can?” You remarked with a jab that made Heeseung huff, tugging you more in a sharp warning. You silenced yourself, but Jay chuckled.

“One can say that. But what's the point of killing when we can share the curse? It's liberating, Intern Song, and I feel upset that you can't see it,” he murmured, his voice suddenly hovering too close, eyes burning over the curve of your shoulder and neck.

Your heartbeat spiked and he grinned in silence. Whatever Soobin and the students had said about them achieving high strength wasn't fake after all. Clearly. And the urge to get the trial drug and stop these vampires grew beneath your anxiety like a scar never fading. Not only that—they wanted more people to turn and embrace the horrific fate that was immortal bloodlust.

“You're lucky, Intern, you get to witness one of the most important Blood Moons,” Riki said as he began to tear apart the metal shutters shielding the door. He tossed it aside whilst you pondered over your plan.

As soon as he did, the plan to take out the guards was swift, each one taking less than ten seconds to make them drop to the floor, breathing or not. Seeing so many of them still and limp brought something heavy to tug on your throat and cry. But, there was no time to breathe.

Heeseung was already dragging you along with the rope, not bothering to stop when you had to sidestep the dropped guards with baited breath.

The walk up to the second floor was hasty but you followed anyway, your own plan growing beneath the dirt. More metal shutters were put in place on the next floor but Jay kicked it down until the dark lab hallway was present. The familiar doors were still barricaded, but your focus was on the door at the end, the one that held the research lab.

“Take us to the humans,” Heeseung said beside you. Without argument, you led them towards the end and then slowed with shaky breaths.

If you were correct, there are probably guards behind the doors and it meant an opportunity to buy time and unlock the cupboard. You glanced between the two doors and all three of them narrowed their gaze in suspicion. The way they stilled at your contemplation, trying to pick the edges apart for the truth behind it.

Heeseung tugged you back harshly until you bumped into his side and a hiss escaped your lips. There was no care in his scarlet eyes as he lowered his face, exhaling with an unstable composure on the verge of snapping.

“You're hesitating,” he sneered darkly. Your gaze flickered, to him, to the wall, and then to the ground before he yanked on your hands again. You winced, glancing again.

“Which damn door?” He snapped now, impatient and with warning. Taking a shaky breath, you turned your head to the ward door. If you took them in there, you know you could easily step away from the action and into the lab room, carrying out your own plan.

“There.”

Riki was already ripping down the door, and opened it. Heeseung pushed you inside and darkness shrouded the room. The hum of ventilator machines remained, a slight blue hue from the emergency lights keeping the room from complete pitch black.

Your breath caught in your throat as the three vampires saw the curtains pulled around the patients, their gazes scanning, but hungry. It was as if they had reached a point of achievement.

Jay took the first step towards the first curtain before him and began to tear the fabric away. As soon as he did, a man in armour stepped out, gun aimed and ready to shoot. Jay recoiled with visible annoyance.

Heeseung snarled and tried to keep his grip on you, but you pushed him towards Jay, causing them to stumble into the wall.

Rage flashed past Riki's face and he lunged for you only for another guard to step out the curtain and catch him in motion. They crashed to the floor, and the ward room became a tornado of instant chaos.

A guard fell when Jay swiped his leg beneath the dude, forcing him to fall onto his back with an aggravated yell. The gun was swiped and Heeseung caught it, opening fire at the other few guards popping out the curtains in defense. Even Riki was warring with violence, using only his hands to claw at the dude that tackled him, digging his nails into the neck of him. A scream ripped his throat, but he didn't care. It all passed him like the wind. Blood coated his fingers and the floor, but his attention was needed where more guards were charging at him. He rose with a newfound darkness storming his eyes.

That was your chance.

You stumbled back, and broke into a run to get to the adjoining door leading to the labs. Like before, you flipped open the plastic covering to the keypad, punched in the code like muscle memory and watched as the metal shutters lifted and the sliding doors came into view. Your heart was thundering.

You tried your best to open the door with your bound hands, and you instantly slipped in and shut it behind you, putting in the same code so that the shutters swallowed the door again.

A grunt left you as you bumped into a counter, breathless, hopeful, but also overwhelmed. You had the chance to actually take a breath after being suffocated by those vampires’ demands and internal hunger. Not only that, but the fact they could have sunk their fangs in and drained you of life was also another reminder that hammered into your brain with no aim. There was no guarantee that the others haven't gotten their teeth messy. More persuasion to hit these vampires where they won't see it.

You clutched your shirt at your chest from the pure adrenaline coursing through and weighing each breath down more than normal.

“Y/n?”

That motherly voice came from the side in the darkness followed by more footsteps, hushed whispers and some metal clinking together. Stunned, you straightened yourself to squint into the darkness. From the other room approached your mother, Taehyun and Soobin, worry stitched into their eyes, and then relief as they hurried to you. Some guards came, but retreated once they saw it was you.

Instantly, you ran to her, the tears you locked away returning as you dug your face into her shoulder. Her grip was strong when she hugged back, distress locked into every muscle. You were just glad she was alive and breathing.

“Oh gosh, your hands,” she exclaimed, lifting your bound wrists. Soobin gasped slightly whilst, Taehyun instantly grabbed scissors, the huge ones, before returning to you. Time ticked on but he deftly worked through them. The knots were annoying to work through, but when your hands fell free of the restraints, you hugged Taehyun as well.

He stiffened, a slight warmth rushing up his cheeks but he smiled softly, hands patting your back in reassurance. That you were back in the grounds of safety. He pulled you back by the shoulders.

“Where were you? I'm so sorry for abandoning you. I was going to go back but—”

“No need.” You wiped your eyes and looked at your bewildered mother. “I know how to defeat them. Well, it's a possibility.”

All three swiftly followed you deeper into the lab, to the adjacent room where the fridges remained shut and locked, science equipment sterilised and on display, and the dim emergency lights still blue and thrumming.

“You said that the trial suppressant was killing healthy cells as well. Normal ones.” You gestured to your mother. Realisation struck her just as hastily and then, concern. Her steps were careful when she approached, as if she wanted to disagree. You didn't understand in the slightest.

“We can't just kill them. The Facility built this on the basis we research them,” she countered eagerly, making you shake your head in vehement refusal, wanting to shake the sense into her.

“They bound me! And, they're going to keep getting stronger if we don't stop them. Those guards can only hold off so much,” you explained with equal desperation. When she still floated in silence, you glanced at Soobin who fiddled with a pen, but he wasn't exactly shocked. Just unsure.

“Soobin told me that these vampires get stronger with every Blood Moon.”

She grimaced. “That's all a myth, honey.”

“No, it isn't. Those monsters admitted it. And it's the only reason that the patients are converting back to vampirism after steady weeks of testing. I was going to tell you but…” you sighed, holding onto the counter at the landslide of thoughts suffocating your head. All three went silent, distant guns and movements making your nerves jump. Time was slipping away from you no matter how much you wanted to capture it.

“Please. Listen to me. We need to kill these vampires before they even think of turning anyone else,” you said again, and even held her arm as her gaze flickered and jumped between the conflict raging furiously within her. “I know their plan.”

With a defeated exhale, she nodded and your shoulder slumped with relief. But even then, uou wouldn't allow yourself rest if the mission wasn't done.

Soobin and Taehyun said they would guard outside; your mother was preparing the syringes, making sure to quickly line them up; and you were in the fridge, checking for the trial drugs’ blue liquid.

You were conscious of the time again, the lack of it anchoring deeply in your chest. What worried you more was the fact that there were probably more dead bodies out there. Their personal cemetery.

“Have you found them?” She asked from behind you. A distant scrape, bullet and tear echoed in the distance, but you swallowed down your anxiety.

“No.” You shoved boxes out the way as you looked down the icy box. Another scrape.

“It should be at the bottom. I left it there,” she said, shuffling behind you with plastic and glass, hastily tinkering.

Following her instructions with your chest curled in knots, you stacked all irrelevant boxes until you found the glass one with blue vials down below.

Bingo.

You hauled it to the counter before frantically stacking everything back, and shut the fridge.

“You found it?” She breathed, coming beside you. You nodded, taking one into your hands and feeling the weight of it all within your palm. As if you held the world by just your fingertips, too. Maybe it was knowing you had the capability to end the spread of bloodlust and corrupted immortality. All by your human hands.

She picked up the remaining in the rack and returned to her station, wearing gloves eagerly and opening the screw of one.

“I'll help,” you declared calmly. Rushing to the gloves on the other side of the room, you failed to notice the shriek of metal, a hungry growl of a machine, something menacing on your path. It was stupid how easily your composure dampened. The only thing in your head was getting those vials into those vampires and stopping them.

Another nefarious growl roared in the lab, running through the surfaces and up your bones. It was so close, your silicone gloves forgotten mid-pull.

And then, the ravenous metal sliced, a blood-curling scream echoing out after and capturing your muscles in ice.

Your breaths felt heavy, every part of you screaming to not look, but you did anyway.

Your knees weakened, hands fueled with tremors as you held yourself by the counter to see your mother trembling in place, her hands cupping her bloodied side. There was so much of it. You couldn't even tell what was her skin, what was fabric, heart thundering in panic, as if trying to weave something out of pure denial.

You had to look away because it was fake. Clearly. And only then you saw the four figures looming behind her, still, calm as if this was normal. None of this was normal.

She parted her lips, trying to say something, but you saw the exact moment the light escaped her eyes and her body dropped, her bloody hand sliding off the counter and nudging the remaining vials. The thud was a single knell in your ears.

The denial hit you hard.

She wasn't dead. She wasn't. She was your strong mother that had a head of steel and tackled every problem with her own constructed weapon. She wasn't one to just accept death. You waited for her to speak, maybe stand and stumble over to you.

But when her body slumped on the floor, standing in her place was a chainsaw, the metal still but coated with copper and red torment.

And Jungwon holding it, blonde hair a mess, his black mask returned to the lower half of his place, but his scarlet eyes pinned you to a place.

You couldn't breathe. Your legs weakened and you whimpered, dropping to your knees in denial, harsh, ragged breaths falling past your lips in large gulps, hot tears blurring your vision like a constant tide you were drowning under.

It wasn't real. You were dreaming. And your mother wasn't dead. She was just there.

The heavy tug on your sternum pinned your breaths, your lungs, until it felt like your own body would collapse in on itself. You were doubled over, tears drenching your cheeks before you knew it.

Footsteps.

You couldn't hear them. You saw them before your blurry gaze, and when you looked up, you sobbed, unrestrained.

All seven of them looming over you like a miserable promise. Sunoo held the hacksaw, head tilted in sick curiosity and you swore a smirk flickered behind the narrow gaps of the black mask; Riki held the metal bat with barbed wire and thorns, a bloodied smile worn; Jay held the spiky bludgeon, the ball attached to a chain, emotionless; and Jungwon in the middle of it all, holding that metal monster with ease, familiarity.

Recognition.

When he reached out to you, something in you snapped, and a shriek tore past your lips as you scrambled back, hitting the cupboards behind you. Your skin flared. As if them getting near brought thorns to prickle your skin and render you in pain.

A flash of annoyance rekindled, but he simply took a step forward, making your heartbeat rage terribly. You knew they heard it.

“Get up,” He demanded just as darkly as before, as if he hadn't ripped your mother away from the world. You shook your head, your sobs growing hastily.

Jungwon's gaze narrowed and Heeseung's hand snapped to your arm, hauling you up forcefully and keeping you near.

Breathing was hard for you now, and you continued to cry, all thoughts weighing down like stones planted into the planes of your skull.

“Shut her up,” Sunghoon said with distaste behind that monstrous mask. A hand clamped over your mouth, effortlessly silencing your sobs to hiccups and whimpers. You couldn't even find any of your strength to resist, exhaustion sinking into your bones.

Her screams haunted you, the look in her tearful eyes. More tears arose, knocking at the walls of your eyes, and you couldn't deny the truth of it anymore. That denial dissolved into solid grief, the type that binded deep in your lungs, making each breath sting and seize your chest.

They all walked closer and your whines grew loud and panicked. Heeseung tightened the grip on your mouth, pressing your head back into his chest, refusing to free you.

Your pulse drummed desperately, as if urging yourself to struggle, but you couldn't. The vials were still on the counter where your mother was slaughtered, taunting you. It irritated you to no ends that your solution was right there, silently mocking you for being caged and surrounded.

The mere thought crushed all your composure again, and again until it was just dust.

“Intern Song,” Jungwon said calmly as he stood right before you with dark, crimson eyes, the colour almost a display of your mother's innocent blood staining his sanity.

Apprehensive whines left your body, and you couldn't hold it together. Everything felt wobbly, loose. They managed to destroy everything holding you together. Heeseung pressed his palm to your lips even more.

“I need you to listen, and listen well,” he continued, ignoring you. His gaze flickered over your hazy and teary eyes, the sight fueling a darkness within, making him smirk.

“You need to do a job for us,” he said with another pur. You shook your head with muffled sobs and Heeseung sneered, stilling your head. Jungwon smiled coldly and it sent something heavy to curl in your stomach. Sunoo smiled, tilting his head. It only looked worse with those black masks.

“There's a reason why we haven't killed you, lovely,” he said with a false sweetness. The others shifted, but it was Sunghoon that appeared at your side within a swift second. A shudder seized your spine.

Sunghoon leaned down with that air of control. “You're going to help us make a serum… a venom.”

This time, your breaths halted, eyes creasing in confusion. It didn't make any remote sense. Even in your state of grievance. They could just bite people and get it over with. Why do they need you?

They saw the mental questions arising and Jake scanned you over with mirth.

“You see, only us seven can turn vampires in one go. Anyone we turned cannot do it to the same ability,” Jake explained as he flexed his knuckles, his dead eyes boring into yours. You glanced away.

“And we need it done quickly. With the Blood Moon, we have become stronger and need to spread… our curse. The serum can be quicker if the humans do some of the jobs for us,” Jay continued, and all of them held that expectation in their straightened postures and cold gazes.

Riki finally stepped forward, the bat resting on his shoulder as if he was carrying an old friend. You whimpered.

“And you're going to help us do that,” he finally said before they all pinned you with their gazes.

The tears remained but your sobs had been buried by the pure striking shock of what they wanted you to do. Obviously you can't do that. To even go against why you accepted the internship at the facility in the first place would unravel all your sanity, your reasoning. The only things you had left to keep. Deciding to do good wasn't just a personal thing—you were confident when you knew what the destination was, when knowing that your aid contributed to something positive. Even if a fraction.

Not to mention that your mother worked so hard, putting all her time and sleep into helping those patients regain their old life. For you to break that legacy would be ending her work, betraying her. And now, with her body lying a few feet away, the refusal caged the offer from ever reaching you. You didn't even blink in contemplation.

Jungwon ground his teeth, dropping the chainsaw with a heavy clunk. A flinch broke through you, but he didn't care. Heeseung released you wordlessly only for Jungwon to slide his hands through your locks and yank your head back. You cried out abruptly, hands clawing at him in a weak attempt to unfurl his violent grasp.

It didn't work.

“I don't think you heard us clearly,” he muttered dangerously, tugging your strands back further as you whimpered, more tears slipping down your cheeks. “You will make the serum, and you will do so without me asking once more.”

“A-and… if I don't?” You managed to croak out, fighting the storm of emotions. Jungwon tilted his head until his nose grazed your trembling neck again, holding you there.

“Then I will bite you. Right here.” Jungwon physically prodded his fangs in warning at the side of your neck, and you tried to push his chest. He remained, and chuckled with that same control he rediscovered and kept in his grasp. “And I will turn you into what you hate the most. A monster.”

He pulled away only a little but it was still so close. You couldn't process it. Everything was frozen, woven in a deep web of problems. And the solution? You couldn't even figure it out. It was all loose, tangled.

Silence gripped your throat, eyes searching his but it was just stone hard and unyielding. And exuded power that he wouldn't be denied.

Pain tingled up your scalp as he tightened his hand, and you winced again, then shook your head.

“Don't m-make me—”

“You don't tell us what to do,” Jungwon snapped, yanking on your hair again, sending another crack of pain through your head. A hoarse cry left your throat.

Riki rolled his eyes, his bat swinging down with slight force and striking the back of your knees. Another burst of pain sprung up your buckling legs, and Jungwon wrapped his free arm about your waist as you struggled to deal with the dilemma and pain. Your hands braced with no choice on his chest and another wave of indecision submerged you.

It was clear he didn't care. Those cruel, crimson eyes were waiting, but the patience was quickly dissolving, and so was your time.

“Will you do it or do you need another reminder?” Heeseung remarked darkly behind you.

Looking at your choices from every angle, there was barely a route where you escaped safely. If you run, you would get bit; if you go along with it, you would be aiding these notorious criminals into turning the city into their own personal army; if you don't do anything at all…

“Well?” Jungwon pressed on, causing you to snap back to reality. You had to keep yourself alive. The small spark melted your hopelessness, but it was something.

You won't stop fighting for yourself, nor your mother. But if you had to fight, you couldn't get yourself killed before the battle even started.

With a defeated slump of the shoulders, your gaze lowered and he smiled, loosening the grip on your hair, but not completely.

“Smart girl,” he purred before he let go and Sunoo approached, lowering his mask deftly. Defensive, you stepped back.

“What are you—?”

Sunoo dismissed your words easily, like dust. He grinned in anticipation. “Don't you remember? I got first dibs.”

The initial panic climbed up your chest, and you stumbled back again. Jake grumbled as well as Riki.

“I wanted a taste,” Riki muttered. You weren't listening to them anymore because you glanced at Jungwon.

“You said if I agreed, I wouldn't be bitten!” You exclaimed with ragged breaths, backing up until you bumped into Sunghoon. His hands latched onto yours like cuffs and you abruptly yelled.

Jungwon shrugged, picking up his chainsaw again, but a smirk curled ever so slightly at the corner. “I said I wouldn't bite you. I never said anything about the others.”

Why did you ever trust his word?

Sunoo strolled over with a skip in his step, the anticipation thrumming through him like waves that did nothing to calm your frantic struggles. You shook your head with trembling breaths, begging.

They all watched like it was the most normal thing ever, as if this was a sick routine.

“Sunoo, please—”

“Oh, it'll only sting a little,” he teased, cupping your face and forcefully exposing your neck. In a desperate attempt, you kicked at him, but his hand gripped your thigh and eased it down harshly.

“Tsk, tsk, I'm not turning you. Just want a little… snack,” he whispered, removing your hair and the lab coat that seemed useless now, and he inhaled deeply.

This can't be happening. None of this was real. But no matter how many times you denied the situation, the more your body felt crushed under it all.

Especially when Sunoo prodded his fangs, humming like he inhaled a sweet song, and you shrieked. Sunghoon held you too easily by the arms, and Sunoo kept you in place by the jaw.

There was no preparation that could make you endure the pain.

Nothing at all.

The moment Sunoo's fangs broke through your skin, a sudden explosion of pain struck through your neck and shoulder, an agonised cry leaving your tight lungs. All your muscles flexed, tightened and a thousand painful knots curled into your flesh.

That was only the surface, the mere opening of your flesh, not even enough to draw blood. But it was enough for tears to coat your eyes again, your head to thrash, nails digging crescents into your palm.

“Stop—!”

Sunoo boldly sunk his teeth all the way in and an immediate dizziness consumed you, your head losing strength, pain sweeping over you like the heaviest tide in a hurricane. At this point, voices blurred and your knees buckled. You couldn't think past the barrier of your vessels cracking, and allowing his intruding fangs to disrupt like a visitor you never asked for. A thief for your blood.

Pain ignited and struck you once more, hitting you with one, hot bolt of pulsing pain through your neck and shoulder.

You couldn't comprehend thoughts, words. Everything twisted and kept you oblivious except the fact that Sunoo greedily took your blood, each motion sparking more agony to tighten and bolt your muscles. You think he hummed, and then delved in deeper.

Keeping your eyes open was a strain you were falling under.Your body fell into the arms of someone. You forgot who. But it didn't matter. Sleep and rest felt more embracing, warm, and away from the roots of reality.

The darkness, for once, was something you gladly fell into.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The first thing you registered was the heavy ache crushing down on your neck, rippling from the bite spot and then reaching up your head and shoulder.

Everything was muffled. Silent, even. Too silent.

Peeling open your eyes, clean, grey walls shone in your surroundings, the stillness corrupting your thoughts despite the pain.

The ground was cold, and not far ahead, there was a window with a grey barrier drawn down, and the striking realisation flashed through you.

The prison cell.

With a burst of energy born out of panic, you shifted your body only to hear and feel leather and metal near your hands. Horror weighed deep in your chest at the leather cuffs around your wrists, and when you peered down at yourself, the chain coiled around your single ankle.

This was worse than you thought. Everything was going down hill, and breaking. Your sanity was unravelling from all the stress sinking into your bones, and your throat felt dry.

Shakily breathing, you fought through the web of pain gripping at every nerve and stumbled to your feet; the agony straining your neck worsened, and you weakly groaned.

The window was cold as you stumbled to it, hands landing with a thud, a futile display of fight, determination. If there was anyone listening, you didn't care. Your forehead landed there, exhausted.

“Let me g-go,” you whispered, weakly banging the glass once more, the movement sending another shot of pain to ripple from your neck and everywhere.

It wasn't just the bite spot. No. Everything was drowning. Your mother was dead as you know it, and her body was probably going to be swept away like litter; you don't know where Soobin or Taehyun were.

They were probably as good as dead.

And the other scientists? Their fates were undecided. How did it even come to this?

Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of trying to take down these vampires after everything that happened.

A rustle sounded, and the blinds went up to reveal Jungwon holding the strings with a controlled stare, as if he knew he held power over you.

Heaviness weighted in your chest, forcing your hands to weakly tap the glass again.

“Y-you monster,” you whispered but you were sure his hearing caught it. The words didn't go missed by him. He tilted his head, pinning your gaze with pleasure or amusement.

“I know. I don't need a reminder, Intern Song,” he spoke through the glass mockingly. The spark of anger twinkled in your eyes, the way your brows creased.

His gaze snapped to your neck, the dry blood staining the agonising wound, and his pupils dilated slightly before meeting your teary gaze again.

“Now you know,” he began saying, leaning closer to the glass to display those blood crimson eyes of his. Your fists clenched as you steadied yourself on the glass, teeth grit, not being able to help the frustration twisting your face and chest. “How to be kept like a mouse in a facility, to be controlled and experimented upon.”

“We're not the s-same,” you remarked in a contempted murmur, breathless. Jungwon smirked at that, leaning his shoulder on the window after crossing his arms. The controlled demeanour, the time spent to taunt you—it all infuriated you. You wanted to strangle him.

“Exactly. We're not the same, Intern Song. Isn't that why we were kept here? I'm simply returning the favour so you can help us with something,” he explained so easily. Another spark of pleasure lit up his face when he glanced at you. “And that's helping with the venom. Like you agreed to.”

“Before your stupid b-brother bit me,” you retorted again, making him snap his cutting gaze to you.

“It's only natural, you know? It's what happens when you deprive us of what we are truly meant to consume,” he countered sharply, leaving no room to argue. Speaking of his brothers, you failed to see any of them in the lab room, and your worry returned to the surface. He sensed the sudden spike in heartbeat.

“Don't worry. They're just… having a snack here and there.”

Tremors ran up your back, gripping your chest and making each breath ragged, shaky, and filled with anger. You grit your teeth, banging your cuffed hands on the window even more.

“You won't get away with this!” You yelled but it lacked the anger you wanted to give. It sounded desperate, as if you had lost the fight already. Jungwon didn't even blink and shrugged.

“You're not convincing anyone. Even yourself,” he said before walking to the side door, opening it and the room suddenly shifted to become unsettling and suffocating.

His steps were easy, silent as he stalked you, and you stumbled back a bit. The chain pulled taut when you tried to distance yourself too quickly, and you fell back onto the ground, wincing when your spine tingled with pain.

The shadow of his loomed over you like a reminder of your entrapment, taunting you even more. Jungwon knelt down as you curled away but he gripped your cuffed ankle, yanking until you held yourself up by the forearms. You groaned in agony, the sensation radiating from your wound and up your skull.

“And, Intern Song, I only have so much patience with your words and actions. Quite frankly, you have exhausted me with all your escape attempts,” he said with a dangerously low voice that cut into you to prove the point. When you glanced at the ground, he pulled on your hand with a silent threat, making you meet his gaze.

“Anymore of that, and I will let each of them drain your blood until you can barely speak. Do you understand?” He warned, expecting an answer. A nod was all you could manage, but he violently shook your hand, and you cried out weakly. “I said. Do. You. Understand?”

“Y-yes,” you uttered hastily. Jungwon tilted his head, as if satisfied, let go of your hands and began to walk towards the door that led to your freedom. Before he exited completely, he turned to you over his shoulder. You tensed.

“Enjoy your time in Facility 007.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

— ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒]: so, do yall want a part 2(?). Hope you enjoyed!!

REBLOGS, LIKES+ COMMENTS are appreciated<3

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ghostlyferrettarot · 12 days ago

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♡✧˚⚰️｡🦇˚Pick a Picture: The impact you leave on others ♡✧˚⚰️ ⋆｡🦇˚

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

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🌸If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🌸

🧟‍♀️Masterlist🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️Masterlist 2🧟‍♀️

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Dividers by @anitaleniaִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

♡✧˚⚰️｡🦇˚Pile 1:

📓♡Cards: 3 of Swords – Page of Pentacles – 4 of Cups.

Hi, Pile 1! I don't know if you realize this, but you have this ability to inspire others. Everywhere you are, you can tell there's something different, as if everything were easier, lighter. Whether it's with a simple conversation or a gesture, you're able to motivate people to see things from a new perspective. You give them that push they need to believe in themselves, to feel that everything they want is within their reach. Even on dreary days, your energy acts as a reminder that life has good things to offer. And the most incredible thing is that you don't need to do much. The way you interact with the world makes others feel more connected to what truly matters, to what's essential, and that, Pile 1, is a rare gift. Just by your presence, people feel more confident. As if they can be themselves without hiding, as if anything is possible. Your authenticity is something that truly makes a difference in the lives of those around you. They see you as a kind of anchor, someone who reminds them that there's always hope, that there's always something good, even when everything seems complicated. Don't underestimate how a simple word or a glance from you can change someone's day. You're that ray of sunshine that enters a dark room without even trying to shine, and that's what makes your impact so profound and lasting. You truly are the light of so many people's lives, Pile 1, and I absolutely adore that and your energy <3

♡✧˚⚰️｡🦇˚Pile 2:

📓♡Cards: Death – 6 of Wands – Queen of Cups..

Hi, Pile 2! Your energy is so powerful. You could have strong Scorpio or 8th house locations; this is the witchy pile for sure! You're like a kind of mirror for the people around you because you effortlessly manage to make them question and reflect on themselves. You don't do this in a forced or intentional way, but there's something about your personality that invites others to see their own lives from a different angle. Your calm and profound way of seeing the world makes others feel understood, as if they're talking to someone who truly listens and understands them. You're the kind of person who doesn't judge, but simply is there, offering a safe space for others to express themselves and release their fears. That's one of your greatest strengths: people trust you, even without you asking. Your impact is also about healing. You're not someone who intrusively interferes in other people's lives, but, in your own way, you offer comfort and peace. People close to you know they can find a refuge in you, a person who, without complicated words, has the ability to make them feel better about themselves. The most beautiful thing about your impact is that you connect people with their truth, with what they truly want and need in life. You give them the confidence to look within themselves and accept what they find. And even though you may not always be the first to speak, people see you as a guide, as someone who points them toward a path of greater clarity and authenticity. So beautiful pile 2 <3.

♡✧˚⚰️｡🦇˚Pile 3:

📓♡Cards: Ace of Swords – Queen of Swords – The Empress.

Hi pile 3! First of all, Bad B1tch energy in the best way possible, I feel like you know who you are! Period! You are the karma of MANY, in the best way possible. Anyways, you have an incredible ability to make people change. And that's not always easy to accept, neither for you nor for others. Sometimes, the changes you bring can feel uncomfortable or even a little scary, but in reality, what you do is give others the opportunity to evolve, to break away from what no longer serves them, to take control of their lives. The people around you feel that energy of transformation. Whether you speak to them directly or just be around, they feel that something is going to change, that something is going to improve. The funny thing is that, even if you don't force those changes, people are motivated to question themselves and move forward. It's as if you were that spark that ignites something in them, a spark that, although it may seem uncomfortable at first, ultimately brings clarity and opens new doors. Sometimes, you can be the voice that tells them what they don't want to hear, but that, somehow, they know they need to hear. It's as if your energy pushes them to grow, even when they don't feel ready. Sometimes, even if the road is difficult, people see you as someone who never stops, who always keeps going. That strength, that perseverance you show, inspires others not to give up, to believe they can overcome any obstacle that comes their way. You are that energy that challenges, that defies, but that also helps others grow, to discover new possibilities. What you convey to those around you is that, even if life is uncertain and sometimes complicated, there is always something beyond, there is always an opportunity to be better and to move forward. You are a total icon and I love that.

♡✧˚⚰️｡🦇˚ Thank you for reading and let me know if it resonated!♡✧˚⚰️｡🦇˚

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melanchoire · 4 months ago

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ot4 aespa x freeuse reader PLZZZ

so many requests about g!p aespa so HERE WE GO

cw: blowjob, breeding, creampie, degradation, double penetration, handjob, humiliation, mommy kink, riding, sex tape??

being the only member without a dick in a group where all your groupmates have one was a difficult task for you 😣 at first you weren’t aware that they had this... characteristic. but when you found out about it, there was a certain tension whenever you were around them, and you always tried to do everything possible to make sure it wasn’t an awkward moment! buuut there were times when tension and desires won…

unnie karina who always has most of the work; solo activities, special collaborations in music festivals, projects as a model or ambassador. besides being the leader of the group, you already know how that role involves a lot of work and time in the life of an idol and how much maturity and seriousness she has to put in sometimes. she has no time for anything!

so karina returns to the dorms tired after a week full of solo and group activities, flights to other countries and long hours of filming for upcoming campaigns with brands where she is an ambassador or muse. seeing the pout and tired expression on her face as she walks through the door to your room is all you need to know that today you will be the one helping your leader and take care of her as she usually takes care of her members

riding her cock while she can only flatter you and moan beneath you 😵‍💫 karina has no strength today to degrade you or try to dominate you, so she just lies on her back, resting her hands on your hips and enjoying how you’re making her feel good by riding her and helping her take some stress off her exhausted body :( looking up at you with bright puppy eyes, begging “please love. keep going, don’t stop. please.” and you wouldn’t stop even if she begged you! karina always works sooo hard and is usually a punching bag when it comes to criticism, being in the eye of the storm and under the judging gaze of the public 💔 and the best thing you can do is let your dear unnie use your body to forget about the world out there for a bit

ohhh and if you play with her tits while riding her cock 😵‍💫 super whiny and needy when your thumbs rub her nipples, writhing under your body as she thrusts her hips up to bury her cock deeper inside you as if it wasn’t deep enough already!

giselle being the talented writer and producer of songs or mixtapes that were never officially released due to company decisions, but it was no problem at all! she loved working on music as a hobby, enjoying writing songs and making new sounds or trying out other rhythms that caught her attention or were fun. giselle also loved inviting you to her bedroom! recording songs with meaningless but catchy lyrics, playing with voice effects and making instrumentals that were catchy and quite danceable

but giselle sometimes also wants to work on making music seriously, making songs for future projects or opportunities that may arise at some point in the future throughout her career with her group or as a solo artist. but she includes you in her plans too?? she states that she would like the two of you to do a collaboration in case she ever starts a solo career, or in any case, be a sub–unit outside the group or in some song for a group album in the future

she would say, “i would like to try something like ‘call me mommy, mommy.’ or something spicy and naughty like that.” and you would laugh in her face because you thought she was joking! until she arches an eyebrow and you realize that giselle was being completely serious about this…

lying on your stomach on her bed, a pillow under your stomach to lift your hips up so giselle can fuck your pussy from behind while you moan and whine into the microphone connected to her laptop 🥰 of course she could use a sample or be the one to record the moans for this track, but why would she do that when she has a bandmate willing to help her with her musical projects??

whining “mommy” after every time giselle’s voice sings the line “call me mommy, mommy.” and sounding so vulnerable and fragile that giselle begins to question whether she wants to release that song in the future because you sound so beautiful moaning her name that she wants to be the only person who can hear you in that position…

ALSO giselle opening her computer camera and recording or taking photos while she fucks you cruelly from behind 😣 pulling your hair and forcing you to lift your face from the pillows, making you look at your own reflection in the front camera, clicking the mouse and taking a photo at the exact moment her cock kisses your cervix in a thrust that makes you roll your eyes and open your mouth in a silent moan 🫠 but giselle won’t post that photo on her instagram! she would if she could 👀 she prefers to upload it to her private account where she only has the members of the group and her closest friends, showing off to the world the fun she has during the recordings of her songs

winter and ningning, the cute maknaes of the group who are obsessed and perverted when it comes to their beloved unnie 🥺 winter shamelessly staring at your ass while ningning has her gaze fixed on your tits, both exchanging a knowing look and talking mentally to decide if what they have is a good idea or not…

getting on your knees and jerking off both of their cocks at the same time, enjoying how sensitive and loud your sweet members get from having this kind of attention on them 😵‍💫 winter grabbing her cock with one hand, guiding the head against your lips and moaning as you take her entire length into your mouth without even choking or gagging 😳 of course ningning takes advantage of this to guide both of your hands to her cock, giving you a needy look and begging you to give her the same treatment you’re giving winter :( and of course you do! sucking winter’s cock at the same time as your hands go up and down as you jerk off ningning, both of them moving their hips towards you in search of more

and they’re so messy when cumming 😣 winter pulling out of your mouth, jerking off her cock in her fist at the same speed you were doing with ningning’s cock, trying to match your movements but whining and crying because it was a very fast speed and she was so overstimulated and sensitive that she could barely take it without giving in right there :( but winter is grateful when she feels your hand wrap around her cock and replace her own, now jerking off both girls at the same time and encouraging them to cum on your face, and they do! their cocks twitching in your hands, shooting heavy loads of cum straight into your mouth, looking at you in amazement when you swallow everything because those two always make a mess and cum in torrents!

being penetrated with both at the same time, riding ningning’s cock while winter is kneeling behind you and fucking your ass, enjoying the way your ass bounces every time her hips hits against it 🥴 hissing as she places her hands on your hips and fucks her cock into your ass at an even faster speed making you drip even more on ningning’s cock, earning a moan from her and making ningning finally start moving her hips up to fuck you from below

and both are two subs so whiny and needy 🥺 whimpering and babbling pleas or incoherent things, moaning “unnie” in every sentence that came out of their lips, and you loved that! always having a thing for the way they said “unnie”, maybe it was because of how soft and sweet their voices were and how that word sounded so adorable coming from them

both cumming inside you, desperate to fill you with their seed 😣 they would make you open your own cheeks for them, enjoying how the cum of both drips from your holes and runs down your thighs slowly, feeling their cocks start to harden again…

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dollyfiles · 23 days ago

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Hello! Would you be open to writing a fic with stepbrother!Rafe x reader where he finds out that she’s still a virgin and teases her for it but then offers to “help” her out and she’s hesitant but eventually decides to give in? And this doesn’t have to be included if you do write this but maybe have them get like super close to getting caught/getting caught? -🐇

a/n: oh yess, keep ‘em coming 😋 i love this !! hope u like it <33

cw: literal stepcest (scroll if uncomfortable), teasing, virgin!reader, kissing, fingering, almost getting caught

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

it started the way a lot of things did between you two. with too much proximity and not enough boundaries. rafe was leaning against your bedroom doorway, fresh out of the shower, towel still slung low on his hips, water dripping down his chest like he didn’t exactly know what it did to you.

you sat cross-legged on your bed in an oversized shirt, trying to act like you weren’t watching him through the corner of your eye. “your laptop’s still in my room,” he said, smirking. you shrugged, full of innocence. “you’re the one who keeps stealing my charger, so it kinda has to stay there to charge.”

“and you’re the one who keeps stealing my hoodies.” you both paused. then you finally looked at him, the air between you two suddenly thicker than it had any right to be. he stepped into the room slowly without invitation, closing the door behind himself.

“well, actually now that im here… there’s something i’ve been wondering.” you arched a brow, wary. “this already sounds like something i don’t want to hear.” he leaned back against the door, grinning. “you ever done it?” you blinked. “done what?”

“you know,” he said, stepping further into the room with that slow, cocky walk. “sex. or are you still saving yourself for someone worthy?” your cheeks went hot instantly. “wow. subtle.” he grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. “just curious.”

you hesitated. why would he even want to know? and why did you actually want him to know? peeking around the room as if someone might hear, you admitted, “no. i haven’t.” rafe raised an eyebrow, but his smile softened. “seriously?”

you glared at him, defensive. “why do you sound so surprised?” crossing your arms now. “i’m not judging,” he said quickly, “i’ts just… i don’t know. i figured someone would’ve tried by now,” lifting a hand in surrender. “they have,” you muttered. “they just weren’t… you know. worth it i guess.”

his smile turned wicked then. “so you are waiting for someone special.” you didn’t respond. but you didn’t look away, either. “wanna know something?” he said, brushing your knee gently with the back of his hand. “i could make it really special for you, y/n.” your breath caught. “rafe…what?..”

“well, you’re not saying no.” he smirked, inching closer. you looked at him then, really looked at him. the guy you lived with. your mother’s boyfriend’s son. the only person in the world you absolutely shouldn’t want. but you did. your eyes were practically glued to him at this point, heart thudding against your ribs like a warning you were too far past to hear.

“tell me something,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. you swallowed, breath shaky. “what?” he dipped his head closer, his nose brushing along your jaw as his lips hovered near your ear. “you can’t pretend that you’ve never imagined it.”

your breath hitched and he felt it. the little stutter in your chest. he smiled against your skin. “me and you. touching each other.” his fingers teased the edge of your underwear, making your whole body tense. “i—”, your voice cracked.

rafe pulled back just enough to see your face. your eyes were wide, lips parted, flushed and clearly guilty. he smirked, “you have.” you looked away, but he gently turned your chin back to face him. “don’t lie,” he whispered. “i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i’m not watching.”

“i don’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth. “you do,” he murmured. “and now i’m here. you’re here. no one else around. so if you want me to stop—say it.”

you didn’t.

instead, your hands slid up his muscular back, fingers curling into his skin. your silence spoke volumes, making rafe grin, “that’s what i thought.” and then he just kissed you. no warning. nothing. it was gentle at first, soft and warm and way too good.

his hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin, and you melted into it like you’d been waiting for this exact kiss. his mouth moved with yours, patient but hungry, holding back just enough to let you catch up.

your fingers found his bare chest, tracing the water still clinging to him. he groaned softly at your touch, deepening the kiss just slightly, easing you back against the pillows, your bodies flush. the soft fabric of your shirt bunched under his hands as he slid them beneath it, finding bare skin, warm and soft under his touch.

“you’re shaking,” he whispered against your mouth. “i’m not scared,” you breathed. “i know,” he murmured. his hand moved lower, trailing slow paths along your ribs, and down your stomach. you gasped softly when his thumb brushed over the thin fabric of your panties.

his lips were attached to your skin, moving with the kind of focus that made you ache. you arched into him, nerves giving way to something electric. a slow, burning hunger that made you feel drunk on nothing but your stepbrother.

he kissed his way down your neck and across your collarbone while his rough fingers began cricling your clit through the material, making you jolt. “such a good girl.” he whispered, voice strained. “please ray-“ you hiccuped, hips grinding desperately against his digits as you craved more of him. “please what?” he grinned, licking his lips.

“want more..” you whimpered, eyes glassy as you blinked up at him. rafe could feel himself unravel just then. he didn’t waste any time slipping his hand inside your panties, letting his fingers slip through your slick folds.

“shit, so fucking wet from just kissing your big brother, hm?” all you could do was nod frantically, too embarrassed to say anything else. this was already bad, but his words? they were even worse.

“i’m gonna give it to you so good, y/n. i promise.” he hushed, his lips finding your jaw before connecting your lips again as he knew you weren’t about to stay quiet once he started. before you knew it he slipped a finger inside your aching cunt, making you gasp into the kiss and dig your nails into his biceps.

“shhh..it’s okay, let ray take care of you.” you couldn’t really think straight. this was all so new and more than you’d ever imagined before. letting him fill you up like this was beyond dreadful, but it also felt so fucking good.

rafe was already struggling to keep his composure, your little yelps and gasps were just too much. he was about to free himself from the towel, his cock already leaking, when suddenly.

knock knock.

you stopped immediately. “y/n?” you heard your mom’s voice, muffled through the door. “you left your laundry in the dryer.” you were both frozen, half-naked, pressed against eachother, rafe’s hand very much where it shouldn’t be.

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes went wide, panic shooting through you. “oh my god,” you mouthed. then another knock. “can i come in?” your mom called sweetly, rattling on the doorknob already. “no!” you squeaked in panic. “i mean—just a sec!”

rafe practically dove off the bed, holding onto the towel and wrapping it around his waist again, trying to look remotely normal. while you scrambled for the blanket, heart pounding like it was trying to break out of your chest.

“everything okay in there?” your mom asked after some time, sounding suspicious. “yeah! just, uh… getting changed!” outside the door, silence. then your mom’s footsteps receding. you both exhaled, half in relief, half in disbelief. you collapsed onto the pillow, heart pounding.

“you okay?” rafe whispered, breathless. “no,” you hissed, eyes wide, cheeks burning. “i- we- you were literally about to—” you exhaled, long and shaky. both of you stayed silent after that. but you knew you couldn’t just go back to how things were before.

not after the way he’d touched you. not after the way you’d let him. not after how natural, how right, it had felt, even when everything about it should have been wrong.

you watched him for a long moment, memorizing the look in his eyes, which wasn’t smug or teasing like usual. just real. raw. almost wrecked. you whispered, “what are we doing, rafe?” to which he just sighed heavily, “fuck.. i don’t know, okay?”

your heart thudded painfully. not from panic, but from the undeniable truth of it. because no matter how wrong it was, or how close you’d come to being caught, or how dangerous this thing between you two had become… you both knew you’d do it all over again.

and when next time came around, you wouldn’t stop.

#from my dollies ₊˚⊹♡#tw stepcest #stepbro!rafe #stepbrother!rafe #stepsis!reader #stepcest cw #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb

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uncuredturkeybacon · 3 months ago

Text

𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 || 𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚒 𝚏𝚞𝚍𝚍 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which you fall in love and never look back

warning : sexual content included - minors do not interact

you're used to pressure. you live for it. ninety-minute matches in front of tens of thousands, champions league nights under the floodlights, the roar of fans at the emirates singing your name. you’ve made your name in the football world with more than just talent. precision. composure. class. arsenal through and through. lioness by blood.

the media calls you “the rolls royce of english football.” you never let it get to your head. but there’s no denying—you’re top tier.

so when your agent sends you an invite to an exclusive athlete gala in los angeles—hosted by nike, packed with global stars—you don’t blink. you pack a tailored suit, hop on a private flight, and plan to shake hands, pose for photos, then bounce.

you didn’t plan on meeting her.

the event is all flashing lights and clinking glasses. you’re posted up at the open bar, sipping on whisky, nodding politely to athletes you recognize from the nba, the wnba, even tennis. but none of them really spark your interest—until she walks in.

azzi fudd.

you've seen her on social media. uconn guard. sharp shooter. but in person, she’s something else. her hair is soft and curled at the ends, makeup subtle, dress hugging her in all the right ways. she carries herself like someone who knows her worth, but doesn’t need to flaunt it.

she spots you first. somehow.

“english?” she said, tilting her head with a smirk when she reached you.

you raised a brow, sipping your champagne. “that obvious?”

azzi laughed, and you swear the sound settled something in you.

“it’s the posture,” she teased. “and the accent. and the fact that you’ve been silently judging everyone’s outfits for the last ten minutes.”

“fair,” you said, chuckling. “you lot dress different over here.”

“and what, you dress better?” she asked, eyeing your crisp black suit, your open collar, the single chain at your neck.

you smirked. “you tell me.”

she laughs, eyes lighting up. “azzi.”

“y/n,” you say, offering your hand.

her grip is firm. confident.

“i've watched your highlights,” she says. “you make the pitch look like art.”

you raise an eyebrow. “you’ve been watchin’ football?”

“i’ve been watching you.”

that was the beginning.

the night drifted by like something out of a movie. you talked and laughed like old friends catching up after years apart. she asked about your training, your matches, what it’s like playing in front of screaming north london crowds. you asked about uconn, her rehab, what drives her to push even harder despite the setbacks.

“no one ever asks me about that,” she said at one point, her voice softer, almost vulnerable.

you leaned in. “well, they should. you’ve done somethin’ incredible.”

after about thirty minutes of talking—real talking—azzi glanced around the busy crowd, then looked back at you.

“you wanna get outta here?” she asked.

you raised a brow. “and go where?”

she shrugged, grinning. “somewhere quieter.”

you ended up outside—on the rooftop patio, behind a velvet rope that no one seemed to be guarding. the music from inside was muffled now, just a thump beneath the hush of the evening breeze.

city lights shimmered in the distance. stars peeked between clouds.

you stood side-by-side at the edge of the railing, her arms resting on the stone, yours beside hers.

“it’s loud in there,” she said.

“too loud,” you agreed.

silence stretched between you—but it wasn’t awkward. it was easy. comforting. natural.

“i don’t usually do this,” she said quietly.

“do what?”

“talk to strangers this long. especially at these things. i hate the attention.”

you nodded. “same.”

she looked at you. really looked. “you’re not what i expected.”

you turned slightly toward her. “what did you expect?”

she smiled. “something more... intense. more guarded.”

you grinned. “you’re not far off. i just like your energy.”

that made her blush. you noticed. and she noticed that you noticed.

“you’re smooth,” she said.

you shrugged. “only when it’s worth it.”

and it was. god, it was.

you talked for over an hour out there. about music. childhood memories. dream matches. the kind of goals that weren’t just on the scoreboard.

she told you her favorite movie. you made fun of it. she told you she’d beat you in one-on-one. you challenged her to prove it.

eventually, someone called her back in. some media thing. she looked at you like she didn’t want to go.

“so… this was nice,” she said, playing with the edge of her ring.

“it was more than nice,” you replied. “you wanna do it again sometime?”

her eyes met yours. “i do.”

you both reached for your phones at the same time, laughing. you swapped numbers. she leaned in, gave you a hug—warm, slow, lingering just enough to tell you she meant it.

“don’t be a stranger,” she whispered.

“don’t give me a reason to be,” you whispered back.

and then she was gone.

but your phone buzzed that same night.

azzi fudd: u made that party 10x better lol. safe flight back. text me when u land? :)

you smiled.

and replied immediately.

your schedules are brutal. you’re back in london before the jet lag even clears, but she’s already waiting on facetime. she calls from her dorm room—head wrapped in a bonnet, hoodie too big, smile soft.

“hey, england,” she teases.

you’re in bed, shirtless, chain resting on your chest, tired from training but wide awake at the sight of her.

“hey, princess.”

you talk for an hour. then two. she plays you music she’s working out to. you show her your boots for the next match. she giggles when you call cleats “boots,” and you tease her for calling football “soccer.”

“you ever gonna come see what proper football looks like?” you ask one night.

she grins. “only if you come to a uconn game.”

“deal.”

you text daily. facetime every night. she sees you in the training room, laughing with teammates. you see her in the locker room, towel slung over her shoulder.

the connection isn’t just romantic—it’s real. she asks about your childhood. you ask about her faith. you start sharing things you haven’t told anyone. and somehow, even thousands of miles apart, she becomes your peace.

you start sending each other care packages. she sends you uconn merch. you send her your match-worn jersey with your name on the back.

one night, as you're lying in bed, watching her yawn on facetime, she says it first.

“i miss you.”

you bite your lip, feeling that warmth in your chest. “i miss you too, az.”

she flies out on her off-weekend.

you pick her up from heathrow yourself, hat low, hoodie up, trying to dodge paparazzi. she runs into your arms like you’ve known each other forever.

you show her london the way tourists never see it—quiet coffee shops in islington, rooftop views in shoreditch, a walk along the thames at midnight. she holds your hand when no one’s watching.

and then, match day.

you’re starting for arsenal. she's in your box seat, wearing your coat, scarf wrapped around her neck.

you score the winning goal. a screamer from outside the box. and when you run past the crowd, you point to her.

the cameras catch it. the internet loses its mind.

@/uclionesshq: y/n scores an absolute rocket… and points straight at azzi fudd? is this a soft launch or am i delusional??

@/bballxfooty: azzi fudd watching her girlfriend play for arsenal?? they’re so international it hurts. i’m sobbing.

@/woagzone: the way azzi’s smiling from the stands... yeah, we lost.

you’re back in your flat. she’s curled up in your bed, wearing your hoodie, skin glowing in the soft lamp light.

“i’ve never felt this safe,” she whispers, tracing her fingers down your forearm.

you kiss her temple. “you’ve got me now.”

you fall asleep holding her. the kind of sleep where nothing aches. where the world can’t reach you.

you show up in connecticut in a long coat, hat low again, but your frame unmistakable. when azzi checks into the game, she looks into the crowd and beams.

you watch her dominate the court—draining threes, quick cuts, fearless. you’re standing before the buzzer even sounds.

@/espnw: arsenal star y/n spotted court side for uconn vs. tennessee. came all the way from london for azzi fudd. love is real.

@/wosoqueens: y/n clapping court side like a proud wife is my roman empire.

you’re tangled up in her sheets. she’s wearing just a tee. you’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist as she rests her head on your chest.

“you ever think about what this is?” she asks.

you kiss her knuckles. “i think about it all the time.”

“we’re making it work.”

“'course we are. that’s what happens when you’ve got somethin’ worth holdin’ onto.”

she pulls the blanket over both of you and whispers, “stay a little longer?”

you do.

the world doesn’t know what you are.

not really.

they know you’re something, though.

the glances during games. the posts that show two mugs on a counter instead of one. the matching trainers. the way azzi was spotted in london twice in a single month. and you? you’ve suddenly developed a love for women’s college basketball.

you two never said a word publicly. but the internet doesn’t need confirmation. it’s already in love with the story.

you’re doing press before arsenal’s champions league tie against lyon. you sit on the set in a tailored track jacket, crisp fade, diamond stud glinting under the lights. you’ve done a hundred interviews—but this one feels different. because you know what’s coming.

the interviewer smiles, flipping through her notes with a glint in her eye. “y/n, your form lately has been phenomenal. and off the pitch, you’ve got fans speculating about some… cross-sport romance?”

you smirk, sitting back in your chair.

she pushes, teasing. “you’ve been spotted at a few uconn games recently… and i think the world noticed you pointing to a certain basketball player after your last goal.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “you lot pay more attention to who i’m lookin’ at than the goal itself, clearly.”

the interviewer grins. “so no confirmation? nothing to share with the romantics out there?”

you lift an eyebrow, grin subtle. “i’m focused on arsenal. and my game.”

a beat.

“but i will say… i’m very proud of certain people in my life right now.”

the clip goes viral within minutes.

azzi’s sitting in front of the press after dropping 27 points against south carolina. she’s radiant—sweat still glistening, hair pulled into a bun, eyes bright.

a reporter raises a hand. “azzi, we’ve seen some famous faces court side for your games lately—one in particular. arsenal’s y/n. are they just a fan of basketball, or…?”

azzi smiles, biting her lip.

“y/n is an incredible athlete. and… a great person to have around.”

the room chuckles.

“would you say they motivate you?”

azzi leans forward. “let’s just say… i like having people in my corner who understand what pressure feels like.”

she never confirms. never denies. but the way she smiles as she says it says everything.

you’re in bed, shirtless, chain glinting in the low light. azzi’s curled up on her dorm bed, hoodie swallowing her frame.

“why do i feel like we’re dating and doing pr at the same time?” she says through a laugh.

you grin. “you handled that well, love. straight outta the ‘don’t kiss and tell’ handbook.”

she mimics your accent terribly. “just proud of certain people in my life, innit?”

you laugh hard, chest shaking. “oi, don’t ever do that again.”

her smile softens. “i miss you.”

you close your eyes for a moment. “i know. me too.”

there’s silence, but it’s full. comforting.

“you coming out for the next match?” she asks.

you nod. “wouldn’t miss it.”

it starts small. a video of you cooking in a kitchen that isn’t yours—azzi’s laugh in the background.

her story the next day: you driving, hand on the gearshift, ring on your pinky catching the light.

you post a photo of two nike duffle bags side-by-side on a hotel floor.

she posts a mirror selfie. you’re blurry in the back, sitting on the bed, scrolling your phone.

comments flood in:

@/bballxwoso: this is the softest soft launch in history. just say you’re in love already.

@/footyfangirl: they’ve posted each other’s fingertips and i’m still screaming.

you’ve got a rare week off. you fly to see her and stay in a low-key airbnb outside hartford. no cameras. no noise. just the two of you.

she’s laying on your chest after a movie, eyes half-lidded. you’re playing with her curls.

“you ever get scared?” she asks quietly.

you hum. “of what?”

“this… getting bigger. people knowing. what it means if we go fully public.”

you nod. “yeah. but i’m not afraid of us. just the noise around us.”

she looks up at you, eyes soft. “i’m not hiding you. just protecting us.”

you lean down, kissing her forehead. “i get it. and when you’re ready… i’m right there.”

you fall asleep like that, hearts in sync.

@/wagculture: azzi fudd just called y/n “someone in her corner” and now i’m crying in international couple.

@/ballinnboots: they won’t confirm, but my serotonin confirms for them.

@/sportsnships: this is like if christen press and tobin heath had a gen z reboot.

it’s late. you’re about to kick off in the champions league semis. she’s in her dorm, wearing your tee, facetime tilted just right.

“you got this,” she says, voice soft. “lock in. be brilliant.”

you smirk. “you’ll be watchin’, yeah?”

“always.”

you glance at the camera. “i love you, az.”

there’s a pause.

then her smile blooms. “i love you too, y/n.”

2026 creeps in with quiet ambition.

your days are full of football and facetimes. her nights are full of training and pressure, the wnba draft looming like a bright star on the horizon.

you’ve both gotten better at handling the distance—but the ache never goes away. every goodbye feels a little heavier. every hug at the airport feels like it's not long enough.

but you’re still hers. and she’s still yours.

new york is buzzing. cameras flash. reporters in sleek suits swarm the red carpet. inside the draft venue, azzi sits front and center, dressed in an all-white suit that hugs her like it was tailored by angels. calm on the surface. electric underneath.

you’re there too, seated a few rows back, behind her agent and team. dressed lowkey—black turtleneck, silver chain, dark coat. watching.

not to be seen. just to be near her. just to witness her moment.

when the commissioner steps up to the podium and says her name—

“with the first pick in the 2026 wnba draft, the los angeles sparks select… azzi fudd, university of connecticut.”

—it feels like your chest might crack open with pride.

the crowd erupts. cameras zoom in as she stands, dimpled smile lighting up the world. she hugs her mom, her teammates, her coaches—and just before she walks onto the stage, her eyes flick toward you.

she doesn’t say anything. just meets your gaze and gives you the tiniest, most intentional nod.

you nod back. hand on your heart.

that’s my girl.

later, after the chaos has died down and the press is over, you’re both back at the hotel. she’s taken off her heels, sitting in your lap on the balcony of the suite, city lights flickering below.

she’s still glowing. you’ve got your arms wrapped around her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.

"you looked like a goddess up there," you whisper.

she smiles, hands covering yours. "i kept thinking, ‘y/n’s watching.’ that kept me grounded."

you kiss the side of her neck. "you earned all of it. and then some."

she leans her head back against your shoulder, quiet for a beat. “i want you with me. in la. i know we’ve never said that out loud, but… i want you here.”

you hold her tighter.

“i know,” you say softly. “i want that too.”

you knew it was coming. you’ve known for a while.

but when the press release drops, the football world still spins on its axis.

"y/n to leave arsenal after eight seasons, signs with angel city fc in los angeles"

the post goes up on all platforms—black and red graphic with your profile, a quote from you in bold text: “sometimes, even home changes shape. i’m ready for a new chapter.”

you didn’t mention azzi.

you didn’t need to.

@/arsenalwosofans: y/n leaving arsenal? my world just shattered in four languages.

@/uswntdaily: y/n to angel city??? she’s really going to be in the same city as azzi. i’m eating this power couple up.

@/footygirlunited: they won’t say a word and yet i’m crying like they just proposed on live tv.

@/bballxfootycore: the way azzi went #1 to la… and a few months later y/n signs with angel city… do you believe in fate or do you believe in fudd x y/n?

you move into a place just outside downtown. a three-bedroom loft, all hardwood floors and open windows. azzi’s duffel is already by the door when you arrive.

she walks in, tank top and sweats, smile soft. “welcome home.”

you drop your bag and walk to her, arms sliding around her waist.

“i missed you,” you murmur into her neck.

she exhales, relief flooding her. “missed you more.”

you rest your forehead against hers.

“now i can be there for all of it,” you say. “your first game. your rookie season. your bad days. your best ones.”

she blinks slowly. “we’re really doing this.”

“we’ve been doing it.”

“but now we don’t have to leave.”

you kiss her—slow, deep, and full of promise. “not for a while, love.”

it’s late summer in l.a.

you play first—angel city vs. portland thorns. you assist a goal and nearly score one yourself. the crowd roars when azzi’s spotted in the stands, rocking your kit, hair in a bun, proudly clapping.

later that night, the roles reverse. you’re court side at crypto.com arena as the sparks face the liberty. she hits the game-winning three.

she points to you as she runs back on defense.

and you? you’re already standing, arms in the air, grin splitting your face.

and twitter? still losing it.

@/angelcityhq: y/n dropping dimes in the afternoon and cheering on her girl court side at night… this is the crossover episode we deserved.

@/wosoxwnba: power couple. first pick. big leagues. big love. big dreams.

you’d forgotten what it was like to not wake up next to her every morning.

no countdown to goodbye. no long-haul flights. no screen between you and her smile.

just sunlight pouring into the la loft and azzi, bare-faced and warm in your hoodie, mumbling something about coffee as she wraps her arms around your waist.

you’d give up the world to freeze this version of life.

you settle into a rhythm faster than expected. you train at angel city’s complex, she trains with the sparks. you both come home exhausted most days, but there's a new kind of peace in the tiredness—because it leads back to each other.

you take turns cooking. she sings in the kitchen sometimes, off-key but confident, while you season everything with a heavy hand and a smirk.

“why do you act like paprika is personality?” she teases, resting against the counter.

“and why do you act like boiled broccoli is gourmet?” you shoot back.

she throws a dishtowel at you. you catch it midair. she rolls her eyes and kisses you anyway.

you walk hand-in-hand through downtown when no one’s really paying attention—hoodies up, fingers intertwined. you sit together in low-lit corners of cafés, her leg pressed against yours beneath the table. it’s not hiding. it’s guarding.

but the city isn’t blind.

photos surface. grainy shots of the two of you laughing in line at trader joe’s. a blurry picture of you with your hand at the small of her back, guiding her through a crowd. a fan tiktok captures azzi running into your arms outside the sparks’ practice facility, her voice saying “baby” clear as day.

at a post-game interview, a reporter tries to slide it in, casual.

“you’ve been looking more settled off the court lately, azzi. happy. is there someone special we should know about?”

azzi just smiles, grabs her water bottle, and says, “i’m focused on basketball. but i’ve got good people around me.”

at an angel city press day, you’re cornered too.

“you’ve been in la for a few months now—fans have noticed you’ve been spending time with a certain sparks rookie. can we expect a power couple debut anytime soon?”

you chuckle, cool as ever.

“i think people should focus more on the way she plays than who she’s with. girl’s a star. let her shine.”

no confirmations. no denials.

just fire. just finesse.

@/wnbaxwoso: they’re so good at dodging questions it’s actually elite. ballers and pr-trained? iconic.

@/laduo_daily: they really said “mind your business but also yes we’re in love” and i respect it.

@/cuffingseason: the way azzi fudd lights up when she’s asked about y/n? i’m writing my vows now.

she’s fresh out the shower, hair damp, wearing just one of your oversized tees. you’re on the couch in grey sweats, watching highlights with the sound low.

azzi crawls into your lap, legs tucked on either side of you. her skin is warm. she smells like vanilla and citrus.

“you okay?” she asks, fingers resting lightly on your chest.

you nod. “just thinking.”

“about?”

you hesitate, then sigh. “feels like we’re on the edge of something. like… people are starting to really see us.”

she leans her forehead against yours. “and?”

“and i don’t want it to ruin this.”

“it won’t,” she whispers. “they can look all they want. what we have? they don’t get to touch it.”

you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her closer.

“you’re everything,” you murmur into her skin.

you start walking her into the tunnel before every sparks game now. you don’t even try to be discreet anymore. you stand behind the barrier while she warms up, nodding to her when she looks your way.

she always does.

before your own matches, she’s there too. in black sunglasses, fitted angel city gear, and your kit number in a chain around her neck.

fans notice. fans scream.

@/angelcityhearts: azzi waiting in the tunnel for y/n after the game? she’s giving supportive wife energy.

@/sparksxacfc: this isn’t just a crossover. this is an era.

@/wnbaxnwsl: they keep acting like they’re not the hottest couple in la. sweethearts, you are.

it’s quiet on the roof of your building. you’ve got a blanket over your shoulders, azzi between your legs, her back against your chest.

below, the lights of la shimmer. but you’re not looking at the city. you’re looking at her.

"you ever think about forever?" she asks suddenly.

you tilt your head, cheek against her curls. "yeah. with you? all the time."

she smiles, closing her eyes, fingers laced with yours.

neither of you says anything else.

because sometimes, love doesn’t need explaining.

it just needs space to breathe.

and in la—together—you’ve finally got it.

los angeles had changed everything.

what used to feel like distance now feels like grounding. you wake up next to her. you fall asleep with your hand resting lightly on her hip. the city buzzes around you, but all you care about is her voice in the morning and her laugh in your kitchen.

you never wanted the fame. you wanted football. but somehow, the world kept looking.

the pitch is clean. nike wants a joint campaign. you, the english footballing phenom. her, the wnba’s brightest new star. both in la. both on the rise.

“power. precision. partnership.”

that’s the tagline.

they film the campaign over two weeks—split screens of you in angel city black and pink, her in sparks gold and purple. shots of you sprinting down the wing. her launching a perfect three. your silhouettes passing in the tunnel. a final moment where you stand shoulder to shoulder, backs turned, “fudd” and “y/l/n” side by side on your jerseys.

the internet loses it.

@/nikewomen: two sports. two cities. one force. [#dualforce | coming soon]

@/sapphicsports: why is this the sexiest campaign in sports history? they didn’t even touch hands and i screamed.

@/ballerbaesunited: i saw a full second of eye contact in that trailer and now i believe in love again.

still, neither of you confirm anything. just coy smiles in interviews and “we respect each other’s game.”

but something is shifting.

you're tired of loving her in the shadows.

you rent a house away from the city for a weekend. just the two of you. no cameras. no fans. just ocean, pine trees, and silence. she’s been working nonstop, and you’ve watched her shoulders sink lower every time she checks her phone.

on the second night, you cook dinner. nothing fancy—grilled salmon, her favorite roasted potatoes, wine on the deck. she’s wearing your hoodie and her curls are loose and wild in the sea breeze.

you give her the ring after dessert.

no kneeling. no speeches.

you reach into your pocket, pull out the box, and slide it in front of her while she’s mid-laugh.

she freezes. looks at you. then the ring.

“y/n…”

“i want forever with you,” you say quietly. “i don’t care if the world knows. i just want you to know.”

she opens the box with trembling fingers. the diamond isn’t flashy—but it’s clean, clear, timeless.

tears rise in her eyes.

“yes,” she whispers. “yes, yes, yes.”

you pull her into your arms, holding her like you’ll never let go.

you don’t plan to.

back inside, rain begins tapping against the windows.

you lead her to the bedroom with your hand gently cradling her jaw, thumb brushing over her cheek. she’s still a little breathless, eyes wide and glistening. you kiss her like she’s sacred—like you’re thanking the universe for giving her to you.

clothes fall away in the quiet.

your hands are reverent, movements slow. her name leaves your lips like a prayer, whispered against her neck, her shoulder, her chest. you don’t rush. you trace every inch of her skin like it’s poetry you’ve waited your whole life to read.

she holds your face while you move over her, guiding your rhythm with soft touches and sighs. you kiss her fingers—especially the one with the ring. her hips rise to meet you, and when she comes undone, it’s with her head buried against your throat and your name on her lips like gospel.

after, you lie tangled in the sheets, heartbeats steady, her leg draped over your waist. she looks at the ring again, smiling so hard it hurts.

“this is ours,” she whispers.

you nod, eyes half-closed. “always.”

the invite arrives on crisp ivory card stock. your name printed in gold: y/n y/l/n – nominee, ballon d’or féminin.

you’ve dreamt about this moment since you were a kid in england, dribbling a ball on concrete playgrounds. and yet all you can think about is who you want by your side.

you ask azzi to come.

she says yes immediately.

it’s the first public event you attend together as a pair. no hiding. you walk the carpet first—tailored black suit, clean line fade, quiet confidence. cameras flash. reporters call your name.

then azzi steps out beside you.

she’s in a sleek black gown, hair slicked into a bun, the engagement ring tucked behind subtle waves. she’s radiant. and standing so close to you that it’s impossible not to notice.

reporters pounce.

“azzi, are you two…?”

you grin, arm around her waist. “we’re here to celebrate football tonight.”

a red carpet interviewer smiles slyly. “just football?”

azzi chuckles. “just greatness.”

they laugh. you both redirect. nothing confirmed. nothing denied. but the way you look at each other in between flashbulbs says more than words ever could.

“and the 2026 ballon d’or féminin goes to…”

a pause. a drumroll.

“…y/n y/l/n.”

the applause is thunderous. you rise slowly, heart thudding against your ribs. azzi grabs your hand as you pass, squeezing once, her eyes gleaming.

you take the stage, accepting the golden ball with both hands, blinking into the lights.

“thank you,” you say. “to my clubs. my country. my teammates. and to someone watching tonight… who’s shown me that love doesn’t weaken focus—it sharpens it.”

you glance toward azzi. she beams, eyes glassy.

a photo circulates from inside the ceremony—azzi cheering, hands raised, the ring catching the light on her finger.

@/femmesoffooty: that’s a ring. that’s an engagement ring. you can’t lie to me anymore.

@/gaysinsport: y/n just won the ballon d’or and she’s engaged to the love of her life. is this tomdaya all over again?

@/sportslesbians: azzi in that black dress with a diamond on her finger and y/n winning the biggest award in football. it’s their world. we’re just sobbing in it.

you toss your blazer on the couch, loosen your collar. azzi sits on the bed, scrolling through her phone with a half-smile.

“think they noticed?” she asks, showing you the zoomed-in ring tweet.

you laugh, walking over. “let ‘em.”

she looks up at you, pride and softness in her eyes. “you’re the best player in the world.”

you lean down, hands on either side of her face. “only thing i care about is being yours.”

she pulls you down into her arms.

the world is watching now.

and for the first time… you’re letting it.

you never thought you’d get excited about countertops.

but here you are—azzi by your side, hand in yours, arguing about quartz versus marble with an interior designer who is both frightened and fascinated by how seriously you take backsplash color schemes.

you’re standing in the middle of an empty living room, all high ceilings and sunlight and possibility, and she’s looking at the space like it already belongs to her.

to you both.

you squeeze her hand. she grins. “feels real now, huh?”

you nod. “yeah. real—and forever.”

you buy it just outside west hollywood. a spanish-style bungalow with arched doorways, a tiled patio, a garden in the back where azzi swears she’ll grow tomatoes but forgets to water succulents. you spend weekends building furniture, painting walls, and arguing over where the couch should go.

(it ends up in the exact spot she picked. you don't mind.)

one afternoon, you catch her slow-dancing to no music in the kitchen, holding a wooden spoon like a mic. you lean against the doorframe and watch her with a smile tugging at your mouth.

this is what peace looks like.

this is what love feels like.

the engagement is private. the wedding won’t be.

you both know the headlines are coming. wnba star and ballon d’or winner to tie the knot. you don’t care. not anymore.

you sit at the dining table one night, laptops open, pinterest boards synced, and a bottle of wine between you. she wants an outdoor wedding. you want something small, intimate. you settle on a coastal venue north of malibu—cliffside views, lots of open air, and the sea close enough to hear.

guest list? selective.

just friends. family. teammates. the people who know you, not just your stats.

you make the playlist yourselves—slow r&b, golden-era soul, a few old-school uk garage tracks that make her roll her eyes and laugh when you dance around the room like a fool.

you add “adorn” by miguel and “like i’m gonna lose you” by meghan trainor to the slow dance list. she adds “golden hour” and your eyes almost well up.

“why that one?” you ask softly.

she looks at you, eyes shining. “because that’s what being with you feels like.”

the night of the housewarming party, your home is filled with laughter, music, and the smell of grilled chicken and baked mac and cheese.

angel city teammates show up first, bringing ridiculous gifts—like a neon sign that says “goal diggers” and a framed picture of you mid-slide tackle with “our king” scribbled across it in gold marker.

then the sparks players roll in, loud and rowdy, and immediately start challenging your friends to beer pong in the backyard.

paige bueckers and nika mühl arrive with azzi’s old uconn friends. you’d met them once before, but this time they act like old family. paige throws her arms around you like a sister. caitlin hands you a bottle of wine and says, “if you ever hurt her, i’ll ruin your credit score.”

you laugh. “noted.”

your family had flown in the night before—your mum already tried to rearrange your spice rack, your dad had teared up walking through the garden.

azzi’s parents arrive last. her mom brings a massive casserole dish and her dad immediately grills you about wedding logistics.

“beach weddings get windy,” he warns, sipping lemonade. “i hope your suits are tailored tight.”

azzi rolls her eyes. “dad.”

you just smile and say, “they’re perfect.”

midway through the evening, you find her in the kitchen, crouched on the floor with a plate of cake and a fork in her hand.

she looks up at you, cheeks full.

you laugh. “you hiding?”

“they keep asking about the wedding,” she mumbles.

“mine keep asking when we’re having kids,” you say, crouching beside her.

she snorts. “they don’t waste time, do they?”

you brush a crumb off her lip. “we could run away.”

she hums. “we already did. just in a very well-furnished house.”

you kiss her softly, slow, ignoring the distant sounds of music and shouting and someone—probably paige—trying to start karaoke.

“i like this life,” she whispers.

“i like it with you.”

you collapse on the couch together, lights low, dishes half-washed. she’s in one of your tees again, hair up in a messy bun, bare feet resting in your lap.

you play with her fingers, gently spinning the ring on her hand.

“so this is it,” she says, half-asleep. “i’m excited for forever.”

you nod. “and it only gets better.”

she yawns, then turns into you, her body melting into your side.

and as you hold her in the quiet aftermath of celebration, in the home you built together, you realize something simple and beautiful:

this isn’t the beginning of the end of your story.

it’s the beginning of the best part.

the day of the wedding begins slow.

the world outside is still wrapped in fog, but inside the coastal venue, sunlight begins to filter through glass windows and soft white curtains. you wake up in separate rooms—old school tradition, azzi’s idea—and yet your first instinct is still to reach for her.

you resist. barely.

your suit is classic—clean black, tailored within an inch of its life. your cufflinks are a gift from her. “always yours,” engraved in tiny script.

the ceremony is outside. white flowers, pale green vines, and a view of the cliffs that seems to go on forever. every seat is filled with someone who’s shaped your story. your mum dabs at her eyes. azzi’s grandmother clutches a handkerchief like it’s holy. teammates whisper excitedly.

then she walks down the aisle.

you forget how to breathe.

she’s in a custom off-the-shoulder gown that hugs her body and moves like water. her hair is pinned back with soft curls brushing her cheeks. she meets your eyes and smiles—and in that moment, nothing else exists.

your hand shakes slightly when you reach for hers.

she grips it tight.

after the ceremony, you sneak away. just the two of you. up on the cliff, overlooking the sea.

no audience. no pressure. just love.

you sit together on a low stone wall, legs touching, holding hands.

“i wanted to say this without the world listening,” you begin, voice low. “because some things are too sacred for microphones.”

she nods, eyes already shimmering.

you breathe.

“i’ve spent most of my life being strong. stoic. people expect it. but with you, i learned that vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s trust. and i trust you with every part of me. the loud ones. the quiet ones. the ones i still don’t understand. i choose you—every day, in every way.”

she blinks, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

her voice is soft when she speaks.

“i used to wonder if someone like you could ever love someone like me. i never had the answers. but you didn’t give me answers—you gave me home. you gave me safety, joy, laughter i didn’t know i needed. i love you, y/n. all of you. and i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”

you kiss her like it’s your first and last time.

the wind dances around you.

you fly out two days later, in island villa over crystal blue water. just enough distance from the world to make it feel like paradise.

your days are sun-soaked. mornings with lazy breakfasts, late afternoon swims, dinners barefoot in the sand. azzi wears oversized sunglasses and your shirts as cover-ups. she’s never looked more at peace.

but the nights? the nights belong to you.

you take your time.

that first night, she’s in black lace, skin glowing from sun and champagne. you press her against the glass doors of the villa, the moonlight catching on her ring.

“i married the most beautiful woman in the world,” you whisper, lips trailing down her throat.

she moans. “prove it.”

her back hits the bed with a soft thud, legs parting on instinct as you crawl between them. azzi looks up at you with wide, expectant eyes, lips already parted, chest rising and falling with anticipation. she’s already breathless, and you haven’t even touched her properly yet.

your hands trail slowly down her sides, fingers teasing the hem of her shirt before pulling it over her head, revealing smooth skin and toned curves you’ve craved all day. she bites her lip when you lean in, mouth ghosting over her collarbone, not quite kissing—just letting your breath skim her skin until she shivers.

you smirk. “so needy already.”

azzi nods, flushed and eager. “please…”

you take your time stripping her, peeling off her shorts, then her underwear, slow and deliberate. she lifts her hips to help you, her thighs already twitching as your fingers graze the inside of them. you press a kiss just above her mound, and her fingers instantly knot into the sheets.

one long lick. that’s all it takes to have her gasping, her hips jolting up into your mouth.

you don’t let her set the pace.

your hands grip her thighs, holding her open as you flatten your tongue against her, dragging it in slow circles that have her moaning your name like a prayer. every time her hips buck, you press her down harder, forcing her to take it your way. her taste is addicting, sweet and slick, and every whimper she lets out just drives you deeper.

you swirl your tongue over her clit, then suck it between your lips until she cries out, legs trembling. she’s already close—you can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way her breathing stutters. but you don’t let her go over the edge just yet.

you pull back, fingers replacing your mouth. you slip one inside her, then two—tight, warm, soaking. she clenches around you hard, her hips grinding into your hand as you curl your fingers just right, stroking the spot that makes her eyes roll back.

“more,” she begs, barely able to speak.

you grin. “i’ve got you, baby.”

you reach for the strap, already harnessed and slick with anticipation. you tease her with it first, dragging the head through her folds, making her squirm and whine. then you press in, slow at first, inch by inch until she’s full, until her nails dig into your shoulders and her head drops back, jaw slack.

you set a rhythm that’s all dominance—deep, steady thrusts that leave her a moaning mess beneath you. her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you in harder, and you give her everything she wants. the sound of skin slapping, her desperate gasps, the creak of the bed—it’s all fuel.

you reach down to rub her clit again, syncing your thrusts with the motion of your fingers, and she’s gone—screaming your name as she cums hard around you, shaking and breathless.

but you don’t stop. not until her body’s limp and her voice is hoarse from moaning. not until she’s completely wrecked, ruined by your touch, your control.

and when you finally collapse beside her, she curls into you, lips brushing your shoulder, still trembling.

“god,” she whispers, “you’re gonna kill me one day.”

you just smirk, wrapping your arm around her. “only if you’re lucky.”

her breath is still shaky, skin flushed and damp as she tries to recover, her thighs trembling from the aftershocks. you don’t give her long. you slide your hand slowly up her stomach, fingers trailing lazy circles just under her breasts, watching her twitch under your touch.

“already done?” you murmur, voice low and taunting as your fingers skim back down to her inner thigh. “didn’t think you’d give out this fast.”

azzi’s eyes flutter open, dazed but defiant. “i’m not… done.”

you raise an eyebrow, pleased. “good girl.”

you kiss her—slow, deep, possessive. she moans into your mouth, her body already arching toward you like she’s begging for more. you don’t make her wait this time. one hand slides between her legs again, fingers slipping through the wet heat you left behind. still so sensitive—her whole body jerks when you touch her, but she doesn’t stop you. she spreads wider.

“such a mess for me,” you murmur against her throat, biting gently at the skin just beneath her ear.

she gasps when you push back in with your fingers—this time three—and her nails claw at your back as you set a slow, torturous pace. you feel every twitch, every squeeze, as you curl your fingers deep and press your palm right against her clit, keeping that pressure steady.

“f-fuck—” she pants, legs kicking a little.

you glance down, watching your fingers disappear into her over and over, her slick coating your skin. she’s dripping, her body reacting like you never stopped touching her. you lean in, lips brushing hers.

“you’re gonna take more.”

she nods before the words are even fully out of your mouth. you pull your fingers out with a wet sound and stroke them against her entrance once more before grabbing the base of the strap again. she barely gets a second to breathe before you're inside her again—deeper this time, rougher.

the rhythm is fast and hard, her body bouncing with every thrust. her legs are spread wide and trembling, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room. she’s completely undone—moaning nonstop, voice cracking, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from the intensity.

you lean over her, one hand gripping her throat—not squeezing, just holding. just letting her feel your control. her eyes roll back when you start rubbing her clit again in quick circles, all while the strap pounds into her harder, deeper.

“i—fuck—i’m gonna—”

“again,” you growl, keeping the pressure on. “give it to me again.”

her back arches and she screams your name, body going rigid before falling apart in your arms. her whole body spasms through the second orgasm, her nails digging into your shoulders like she’s holding onto reality.

you don’t stop until her legs are shaking uncontrollably, until her whimpers fade into soft, overstimulated cries and her hands are pushing weakly at your chest.

then you slow. you pull out carefully, gently. she’s wrecked—flushed and soaked and twitching. you kiss her cheek, her shoulder, her chest, letting her breathe again.

azzi looks at you through heavy lashes, her voice hoarse. “you’re insane.”

you laugh softly, pulling her close. “you love it.”

she doesn’t even try to deny it. she just nods, curling into your chest, her fingers weakly gripping your side like she never wants to let go.

she’s sprawled out, thighs parted, skin slick with sweat and arousal, chest rising and falling like she just ran a marathon. her cheeks are flushed, lips kiss-swollen and slightly parted. you hover over her, watching her body twitch with aftershocks, your hand tracing lazy circles over her belly as her breath stutters beneath your touch.

“you done?” you whisper, voice low and teasing.

azzi shakes her head slowly, even though her legs are still trembling. “no… i want more.”

you grin, dark and hungry. “that’s my good girl.”

you don’t waste time. your fingers return to her swollen, dripping cunt—slicker than before, throbbing, oversensitive. the second you brush over her clit, she whines—high-pitched, desperate—but doesn’t pull away. she arches into you, aching for it.

“look at you,” you murmur, dragging your fingers through the mess between her legs. “this pussy’s soaked. so needy. still not satisfied?”

“n-no,” she stutters, face contorting as you press down on her clit with your thumb, making her hips jerk. “please—please, fuck me again.”

you grip her thighs and flip her effortlessly onto her stomach. her ass is round, flushed, begging for attention. you give it a sharp slap and she moans into the mattress, pushing back against you.

“goddamn,” you mutter, palming her ass as you guide the strap back to her soaked entrance. “you’re unreal.”

you slide it in again, deeper this time—different angle, fuller. her moan rips out of her like it’s been building, her hands fisting in the sheets as you bottom out inside her.

you don’t give her time to adjust. you set a brutal rhythm right from the start, snapping your hips forward, the sound of skin-on-skin bouncing off the walls. she’s a mess—drooling into the sheets, crying out with every thrust.

your hand comes down hard on her ass again, then you lean over her, your chest pressing against her slick back, lips brushing her ear. “say my name.”

she gasps, voice breaking. “y/n.”

“louder.”

“y/n! fuck—don’t stop!”

you reach around her body, fingers back on her clit, and she loses it. her body spasms, legs shaking, her moans growing louder, messier. you don’t ease up. you keep fucking into her hard, fucking through her orgasm as she thrashes beneath you, completely undone.

you pull her up by the hair, just enough to whisper against her mouth. “one more.”

she whimpers, nodding furiously. “yes—yes—please—do it.”

you shift again, pulling her into your lap as you sit back on your knees, keeping the strap deep inside her. you grip her hips and bounce her on it, hard and deep, her body limp and pliant in your arms. she’s so far gone—crying, moaning, begging—nothing left but want.

her head falls back on your shoulder as she grinds down, desperate to feel every inch of you.

“good girl,” you whisper, biting at her neck. “cum on my cock again. let me ruin you.”

and she does—again.

harder than before, louder than before. screaming your name, body convulsing, hips jerking erratically. her whole body tenses in your arms, then collapses completely. she falls forward, chest to the bed, shaking and soaked.

you pull out slowly, letting the strap fall against your thigh, then gently turn her over. she’s flushed, sweaty, lips parted, legs still twitching.

totally. fucking. wrecked.

you lean in and kiss her slow, soft, like a contrast to everything you just did.

she breathes against your lips, voice barely there. “i can’t move.”

you grin, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. “that was the point.”

you run your fingers down the inside of her thigh, watching her flinch at even the lightest touch. her pussy’s red, used, still leaking from the last orgasm—and you’re not done watching it tremble for you.

her eyes flutter open just enough to look at you, dazed, soaked in sweat, lips swollen from moaning your name for what must be the hundredth time.

“color?” you ask, hand paused right above her inner thigh, even though you already know the answer.

she nods, voice rough. “green.”

“good.”

you kiss her neck, soft and slow—contrast to the way your fingers dip back between her legs. she gasps, the sensitivity making her jolt, but she spreads her thighs again anyway. you hum in approval.

“still so good for me,” you whisper, sucking a fresh mark into her collarbone as your fingers circle her clit again—barely any pressure, just enough to make her body twitch. “still letting me have this sweet pussy.”

she lets out a shaky moan, back arching off the bed.

you press two fingers inside her—tight, so tight, even after taking you over and over. she clenches like her body’s not sure it can handle more, but her hips move, desperate for more depth. you give it to her slow this time—just your fingers first, curling deep, scissoring gently, dragging the swollen heat from her all over again.

“sensitive?” you ask against her ear, licking the shell of it.

she nods, but her legs still try to wrap around your waist. “i don’t care.”

you pull your fingers out, slow and wet, then suck them clean while she watches. her breath catches in her throat.

then you reach for the strap again.

this time, you flip her onto her side, spooning up behind her, sliding the tip between her folds. she whines, body shivering from head to toe as you tease her entrance.

you push in slowly. every inch dragging against oversensitive walls. her mouth drops open, no sound even coming out this time.

“shhh,” you murmur into her ear, hand sliding up to her chest, gripping a breast while your hips start moving. “you can take it. you were made for this.”

your thrusts are deep and angled perfectly. one leg slung over yours, her ass pressed right up against you. you slide your arm under her neck, cradling her as you fuck into her slow and punishing.

your hand drops between her thighs again, rubbing slow circles around her clit in sync with every thrust.

she starts crying.

not from pain. from being absolutely, thoroughly destroyed.

“please,” she sobs. “please, i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” you growl, thrusting harder now. “you’re gonna cum again for me. you’re gonna soak my cock like the filthy little slut you are.”

her whole body shakes.

you bite her shoulder as your pace builds, the slap of your hips against her ass getting louder, faster. her pussy tightens around the strap, and you feel it—she’s right there again. her cries grow high and choked, her legs spasming uncontrollably.

then she screams.

you hold her tight as she convulses in your arms, another orgasm ripping through her so violently she nearly pushes you out. but you hold her there. deep. still. letting her shake around you, her nails digging into your arm, tears wetting the pillow.

and finally—finally—you slow. you gently pull out, her body twitching at the loss, her legs unable to close.

you shift her onto her back, brushing the hair from her face. her eyes are barely open, lips trembling. she looks absolutely ruined. blissed-out. used in the best way.

she tries to speak, but all that comes out is a broken, “f-fuck…”

you kiss her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose.

“you’re perfect,” you whisper, stroking her stomach softly now, letting her finally come down. “all mine.”

she nods weakly, voice barely audible. “yours…”

the first thing you notice is the sunlight creeping across the sheets.

the second is azzi, curled into your chest, naked, her leg thrown lazily over your waist. her skin’s warm against yours, her cheek soft where it rests on your shoulder. you let your fingers trace lazy shapes into her hip, brushing over the faint red marks you left there the night before.

she stirs a little when you shift, letting out a soft, sleepy whine that turns into a broken, “mmm… don’t move.”

you smile. “didn’t think you had energy to complain.”

azzi groans, burying her face against your neck. “i don’t. everything hurts.”

your hand slides lower, brushing over the curve of her thigh. she tenses when your fingers graze the inside of it—still sore, still so used.

“you okay?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

she nods, but her voice is hoarse. “i’m wrecked. my legs feel like they don’t work.”

“mm. wonder why that is,” you murmur, dragging your knuckles slowly along the inside of her thigh, right up to where she’s still slightly sticky between her legs.

she flinches. “y/n…”

“sensitive?”

“you’re evil.”

you chuckle, kissing her cheek as she squirms in your arms, trying to pull the sheet up higher to hide her face. but you don’t let her go. you roll her gently onto her back, sliding your leg between hers and leaning over her. she’s all flushed again, body remembering everything you did to her last night with every shift of her hips.

your hand glides down her stomach, and she catches your wrist—not stopping you, just holding you there.

“i can still feel it,” she whispers, not meeting your eyes. “you. inside me. i swear it’s still there.”

you hum, low and satisfied, kissing just beneath her jaw. “it should be.”

her breath hitches when your fingers drift lower, teasing again—just light pressure, not even pushing in. her whole body tenses.

“god, i’m so sore,” she mumbles, but her legs part anyway, muscles trembling.

you glance down at her—messy hair, love bites scattered across her chest and neck, thighs still flushed and twitching. she looks perfect.

“you want more?”

she bites her lip. “i want… a shower. and breakfast. and maybe… later.”

you grin and kiss her softly. “later, huh?”

she arches an eyebrow at you with a sleepy smirk. “maybe.”

you pull her into your chest again, hand still resting low on her hip, your fingers casually stroking the curve of her ass.

“we’re not leaving this bed for a while,” you say, voice low in her ear. “you’re not even ready to stand up.”

azzi groans, burying her face in your neck again. “don’t remind me. you broke me.”

you hum, satisfied, brushing your lips against her temple. “damn right i did.”

coming home feels… different now.

not because anything’s changed about the house—your keys still stick a little in the lock, the laundry’s still piled in the guest room, and the kitchen smells faintly of that candle azzi always lights when she bakes—but because you’re different.

married. still freshly sun-kissed from spending the days under the golden light. still catching yourself staring at her ring when she gestures in conversation.

still in awe.

azzi steps into the house first, barefoot, suitcase dragging behind her. she turns to look at you over her shoulder, eyes soft, mouth tilted into that half-smile you fell for.

“we’re home,” she says quietly.

you shut the door behind you and drop your bag. “we are.”

the first few days back are quiet. peaceful.

you wake up late, tangled in sheets and her limbs. you make coffee slowly, watching her dance around the kitchen in one of your oversized training shirts. you water the plants you forgot to set timers for before leaving. you rest.

there are no press tours. no practices yet. no calls you can’t ignore.

just her. just you.

one afternoon, you both sit on the living room floor with wedding photos spread out across the rug.

azzi’s in your lap, her head on your shoulder, scrolling through the digitals on your laptop. you hold one of the polaroids in your hand—one her grandmother snapped at the ceremony. the one where you’re looking at azzi like she’s the sun.

“i still can’t believe we did it,” she murmurs.

you glance down at her. “married or survived your mom’s guest list?”

she snorts, nudging your side. “both.”

you kiss her temple. “best decision i’ve ever made.”

she tilts her head up to kiss you, slow and full of quiet joy. the kind that lingers.

training resumes.

you return to the pitch with angel city, sharper than ever. the staff welcomes you with soft smiles and cheeky grins—everyone saw the ring. no one says a word. respect.

azzi’s season is winding down, playoffs approaching, but she still shows up to your practices with smoothies and baby carrots and that proud look she always wears when watching you play.

you find each other in between the chaos.

late-night facetime calls when she’s traveling. her falling asleep on your chest after your matches. cooking together in silence. folding laundry with music playing. sunday mornings spent reading on the patio, legs tangled under the same blanket.

everything feels like a shared rhythm now.

even your space.

you were already living together technically. but this?

this is your first time in your shared home as wives.

there’s a slow reverence to everything now—unspoken meaning behind the little things. when you rearrange the mugs, when she organizes the books by color. when you hang framed wedding photos in the hallway. when you both look at the guest room and wonder if maybe, soon, it’ll be something more.

one night, you’re curled on the couch, both in sweats, sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching a documentary neither of you are really paying attention to. azzi’s head is on your chest.

“you know,” she says softly, “i never thought i’d have this.”

“this?” you ask.

she looks up at you. “this love. this life. a home. a future.”

you press a kiss to her forehead. “i didn’t either. but now i can’t imagine anything else.”

your home is louder now.

years has passed.

tiny feet run through hallways. giggles echo off walls. cartoons hum faintly from the living room.

you and azzi are moms to two beautiful children—your daughter, ava, and your son, zion. ava has azzi’s big eyes and your strong jaw. zion has your dimples and her curls.

your lives have changed—but the love? that’s only grown.

you still wake before sunrise for training. azzi still shoots hoops in the driveway with zion on her hip. ava already kicks a football around with frightening precision.

the world still watches. but you’ve built something untouchable.

until now, you’ve never confirmed your relationship publicly.

no statements. no interviews. just love in private.

but today, you decide it’s time.

@azzi35 & @yourinstagram “our greatest win. our forever team.”

[first photo]: you and azzi on your wedding day, foreheads pressed together, tears in your eyes. [second]: a quiet beach shot from your honeymoon—her laughing in your arms. [third]: you two in your home, ava between you, zion on your hip, the sun pouring through the windows. [fourth]: ava in an angel city kit and zion in a sparks jersey, both wearing custom “#1 mom” caps. [last slide]: your hands, fingers intertwined. her ring shining. yours next to it.

@/sportsqueens: azzi fudd and y/n have kids. kids!!! i didn’t even know they were dating and now i’m crying over a family i didn’t know i needed.

@/lesbianhoopsfc: we’ve been shipping them since that nike campaign and now they have two babies and a house and rings? i’m emotionally wrecked.

@/ballonbabes: when y/n said “forever team” i actually ascended.

@/wnbaxnwslfamily: this is what sports power couples should look like. loyalty. legacy. love.

you read the comments with azzi curled against your side, zion asleep on your chest, ava drawing nearby.

she looks up at you, smiling.

“you happy we posted it?”

you nod. “we’ve never hidden—but it feels good to share. on our terms.”

she kisses your jaw. “we deserve to be seen.”

and you are.

by the world. by each other. by the two beautiful kids who call you mama.

it’s not just the end of a love story.

it’s the beginning of a legacy.

#paige bueckers x reader #azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #azzi35 #uconn women’s basketball #uconn wbb #ucon wbb #lesbian #wlw #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #wuh luh wuh #ncaa wbb #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #꙳¤*٭⁎﹡꙳＊ 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ＊꙳﹡⁎٭*¤꙳

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moldycheezeit · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1

You were a good kid, great kid even. But no one ever really knew, well maybe your high school science teacher and Alfred, but they were the only ones.

Someone out there is probably thinking ‘‘well what about your mom she would surely care?” Well to bad she wasn't there, well at first she was, during the pregnancy, but when it was time for you to come into the world all of a sudden she didn’t fit into said world. So death took her away from you minutes after you were born.

For that and maybe because you look like her, they probably wouldn’t know because they barely look let alone talk to you, they neglected you and it hurt because these are the people who are supposed to love and care for you. But with the help of Alfred you learned to take care of yourself which leads you to this moment. Like right now where you are standing at this very moment. At the school's science fair because you, even if people don’t believe it because of how pretty you are, are really smart when it comes to science. You learned for your love of science by reading a book that your mom had written and left behind after she passed. She left behind many more things for you but this stood out among the rest. It was mostly filled with ideas on things to create and ways that could make it possible. So you tried the one that you found the most interesting and figured out a way to create it. Of course it took a bunch of trial and error but you made it work with what you had. Seeing as Bruce never gave you any money ,like an allowance, you had to find scraps to make your inventions work. Now let’s get back to that competition.

You are currently standing next to the table with your invention ‘the gauntlet’ yea you didn’t know what to name it. What it can do is tell you any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient. It takes the form of a bracelet but when activated it basically takes up the back of your hand and half of your forearm. It has two screens, one that you use to type and the other that gives off a hologram-like screen. Yea it’s clunky and doesn’t look right at the moment, but for your first model it’s great.

While standing around waiting for the judges to come see your product you see a man. He looked to be in his 40’s and had short brown hair, a weird looking goatee, and was wearing… sunglasses? Indoors…welp at least he’s not wearing something stupid like a bat suit. He does look familiar but you can’t remember were from. You notice he’s looking around at the invitations and talking to the creators. And he seems to be heading in your direction like right now. He’s 5 tables away, 4, 3, 2– “Hey kid what’s this you got?” The man is smiling like he’s actually interested in what you have to say. That is not really normal. “This is a gauntlet I created to tell you of any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient.” You had responded to the man’s question confidently. “Wow you really programmed it to do all that.” He questioned, interested in the gauntlet that sits in the display case. “Yes, it took me a while to do it though.” You had said, uttering the last part to yourself. “ I can imagine seeing as I've done a bunch of stuff just like it.” The uh.. Weirdo, yea lets go with that, had told you. Now that surprised you, But before you could ask any questions the weirdo ,as you've dubbed him, started walking away. “Alright see you later kid, hope you win with that invention you got.” you could hear his voice starting to fade a bit as he walked away. And all you could think was ‘ Man was a weirdo.’

It's been a while since the judges had come over to your table, because right now they were deciding on who the top 3 will be. You kinda hoped one of them would be the red haired kid who made that moving metal arm out of scraps. To you it was just really cool. You can't help but hope to get in the top 3 as well because the winners get cash. ‘ I need that money so I can create more inventions, yea using what I have on hand is good but there is a limit of how much I can do with it. Not like Bruce would give me any.’ you had rolled your eyes thinking about that last sentence. Hopefully with the creations your mom thought of they could help you get enough money to never rely on that man again.

Just as you ended that thought the speakers in the hall started projecting what the announcer was saying into the mic. “ Can all the contestants make their way to the stage, the judges have finally made their decisions.” You and all the other contestants start making your way to the front where the judges are. luckily it's not that far of a walk and when you get there you all stand in a crowd. when you all get there the announcer starts speaking “ even though we had a lot of good intentions this year only about three of you can make the top. so we'll start from 3rd to 1st place in order of who got which.” As the crowd stands there in anticipation the announcer starts speaking again “ In third place is kidd with his metal arm that he has made to help people who are missing limbs, we hope to see more in the future for him.” as people clap you see the red-haired kid you saw earlier walking up to get onto the stage in the announcer hands him a third place medal and a check with money on it. “ Now for second place Elijah who has made a machine that can take packages of food and can make them into full meals.” Just like before you had seen this kid Elijah start walking up to the stage and when he got on the stage he had received his second place medal in his check that he had won. “And finally for our first place we have a (y/n) Wayne who has shown us a gauntlet. That can help people in the medical field identify diseases if they have a hard time figuring out what they are or what the patient has.” You're surprised to hear that you knew you were smart but you didn't know you would win first place. As you walk up to the stage you have a rush of excitement in you. Finally, you can have money to help create your inventions, your mom's inventions. you can finally fulfill the dream she had that she wrote in her books from before you were born.But when you go on stage the announcer only handed you the first place medal you were surprised to not see a check that came with it then out of the corner of your eye you see the same weirdo man from earlier with a big check walking towards you. “ Hey kid you won just like expected, hopefully you can put this money to use and make more amazing creations like the one you made for today.” But you couldn't help but say “ you look familiar.” and happily he answers your question saying “I'm Tony Stark kid.” Ah.so that's why he looked so familiar.

If you watch one piece see what I did there. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و I thought it would be a funny thing to put in. Also sorry I keep posting at like 1am its really the only time I'm free

Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol

#batsis!reader #neglected reader #platonic #platonic batfam #tony stark x reader #teen!reader #yandere batfam #moldycheezeit

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deadwtr · 4 months ago

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“MY GIRL” multi

no thoughts, just frat boys with their girlfriends that they're absolutely enamored by

18+, mdni. frat parties, mentions of drinking, reader gets flirted with by some random person idk, character calls reader his girl, fem!reader, third person pov (reader's perspective)

content below cut

she felt the party long before she could see it—the bass pounding deep and steady, a pulse that rattled through her ribs as she walked. 2218 pine drive. even if she hadn’t double checked the address, she was sure she had the right place. the house was practically alive, front yard littered with red solo cups and twenty-something year olds, voices raised over the loud music. lights glowed from every window, shadows shifting inside, the air was thick with the unmistakable mix of cheap beer, sweat, and cologne that made her nose hurt.

despite dating the frat’s president for quite sometime now, she’d never been to any of his parties before. sure, he’d invited her more times that she could count, but she never took him up on it, always finding an excuse and brushing it off with a ‘maybe next time’—until tonight. now, standing in front of his house, seeing his letters displayed proudly above the door, she felt something stir in her chest. a strange mix of curiosity and hesitation. and judging by the sheer size of the crowd, she was beginning to understand just how much of a big deal he was in this world.

his world.

as she reached the front steps, a guy stood at the door; one hand gripping a red solo cup, the other brace lazily against the doorframe like he owned the place, holding a conversation with someone behind him. at her approaching footsteps, he turned to her. he looked at home here—dark hair a little messy, lips curled into a smirk like he’d seen this exact scenario play out multitudes of times. his sharp eyes flicked over her, slow and deliberate in a lazy, appreciative sweep, clearly taking his time.

“well, damn,” he said, slow and easy, dark eyebrows lifting in interest as he pushed off the frame to stand in front of her. “and here i was, thinking i’d already met every gorgeous girl on this campus.”

she rolled her eyes, “i doubt that.”

he smirked, stepping a little closer, just enough to invade her space.

“nah, i’d remember you,” his smirk grew wider. “you’re not a freshman, are you? ‘cause i feel like i should've met you by now.”

“i’m not.”

“even better.” he tilted his head, studying her. “you got a name, or do i just call you the most beautiful girl at this party?”

she sighed in response, “yeah okay, can you just let me through?”

he didn’t move. “you here alone? or is some lucky guy already calling dibs.”

before she could even think of responding, another, much more familiar voice cut through the night. sharp and unmistakable.

“yeah.” her boyfriend said, stepping up behind the dark haired guy, like he’d been watching the whole thing. “she’s my girl.”

the guy at the door immediately straightened, confidence flickering before he let out a slow chuckle.

“shit, man.” he said, lifting his hands in surrender. “didn’t know she was yours.”

he stepped to the side, just enough to her boyfriend slip through. her boyfriend didn’t spare him a second glance, his focus solely on her as he stepped in closer, curling his arm around her waist, fingers pressing warm against her hip. he smelled like laundry detergent and his citrus-y cologne, a faint trace of beer lingered on his skin, but regardless his presence was grounding. familiar.

“you should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmured, voice low as he leaned in, lips barely brushing her ear. “i would've met you outside.”

she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk on her face as she whispered back. “and miss the warm welcome?”

his eyes darkened just slightly, grip tightening against her waist.

“funny. didn’t look like you were enjoying it.”

she huffed a quiet laugh. “are you jealous?”

he hummed in response, kissing the shell of her ear before pulling away slightly.

“not jealous,” he said smoothly, but the way his fingers flexed against her told a different story. “just wondering how long i should’ve let that go on before stepping in.”

“and?”

he studied her for a second, letting a smirk grow on his face. “figured you were about to shut him down anyway.”

she raised a brow, a smile forming on her own lips. his fingers traces slow circles against her waist, his voice dipping lower. “but i wasn’t gonna let him think he had a chance.”

“so dramatic.” she rolled her eyes, but the warmth curling in her chest and growing hot in her ears betrayed her.

“mm, i guess. only when it comes to you.”

before she could fire back, he gave her a light squeeze, chuckling under his breath. he tugged her just a little closer before nodding toward the inside of the house. “c’mon. let's have some fun.”

and just like that, with his arm wrapped securely around her, he led her inside, pulling her fully into his world.

touya todoroki, KEIGO TAKAMI, tomura shigaraki / OSAMU MIYA, toru oikawa, tetsuro kuroo, KOUTARO BOKUTO, hajime iwaizumi, KYOTANI KENTARO, atsumu miya, ryuunosuke tanaka, KEISHIN UKAI / dick grayson, JASON TODD, damian wayne, bruce wayne, OLIVER QUEEN / EREN YAEGER, jean kirstein, connie springer, levi ackerman, MICHE ZACHARIUS / suguru geto, SATORU GOJO, kento nanami, toji fushiguro / literally all of toman + your faves

@bokutoko

deadwtr, do not copy or repost

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ateezscupid · 5 months ago

Text

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Sweater Weather - VIRGINITY LOSS ♡

SUMMARY / After years of being friends, one drunken conversation at a party ends up with the both of you taking each other's virginity.

warnings ✩ PORN LINK, SMUT, switch!san, switch!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers au, miscommunication, size difference (not really mentioned but, heh, manhandling), san and reader are both virgins, drunk sex (both parties are drunk), oral (m and f), unprotected sex, they're so awkward and cute

word count ✩ 4,22k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @shinebyeoli @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia @aurorasjoongie @seonghwaswifeuuu

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

You're not the biggest fan of house parties. So, when San invited you to one, you had your reservations. But it's been a year since you moved to the city, and you felt like you should make an effort to mingle. Plus, San's place had a killer view of the skyline, and you hadn't seen him since you both graduated.

San was your best friend from college, the kind of person who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt and listen to your rants about your terrible Tinder dates without batting an eye. You've shared so many moments together, but never had you felt something… more. Not until recently.

Recently, meaning your Sophomore year of College. He got a girlfriend, you had a brief fling with someone else, and your feelings toward him changed. You felt, well, jealous. Jealous of the way she looked at him, the way he talked to her, and the way they touched each other. But it was more than that. You felt like you'd missed your chance. Like you'd never get to explore those feelings that had been bubbling just under the surface of your friendship.

But here you were, not knowing how many drinks the both of you had, yet somehow you ended up in some random bedroom rambling on about random things with him. His eyes glinted in the dim light, the same way they did when you two stayed up all night studying for finals. But there was something different, something that made your heart race.

"San," you slur slightly, "The room is spinning."

"No it's not." San laughs, taking another sip of his drink. His voice is deeper, more comforting than you've ever noticed before. He sets his drink down and moves closer to you, his arm resting gently on the back of the chair you're slumped in. "You're just drunk."

"And you're not?!" You retort with a grin, feeling the warmth of his body soothing your spinning world. He laughs, his hand moving to your shoulder, the heat of his palm seeping through your shirt. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you look into his eyes, those dark, warm eyes that have seen you at your worst and never judged.

"I never said I wasn't! But, like, you get loud and weird when you're drunk." San's grin widens as he playfully pokes you in the side. You laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the unfamiliar room. The party's noise seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the rhythm of your intertwined breaths.

You lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you. "I'm not weird," you protest, though your voice is barely a whisper. San's gaze holds yours, the laughter fading from his eyes, replaced by something more serious, more intense. The air between you thickens, charged with unspoken words and unexplored feelings.

"Yes you are." He says, his voice dropping to match the gravity of the moment. His hand lingers on your shoulder, the warmth of it spreading like a wildfire through your body. You feel your cheeks flush, and your heart beats so loud you're surprised he can't hear it. The room is silent except for the distant throb of the party outside.

"Well you still became my friend so clearly I'm not that weird." you giggle, trying to ease the tension that's suddenly coiled around you both like a tightening spring. San's smile softens, his thumb tracing small circles on your shoulder, sending bolts of electricity through your skin. You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

"I don't know what it is, but when you laugh, it's like the best thing in the world." San says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand slides down your arm to grasp yours, and the simple act sends your heart racing even faster. You stare at your intertwined fingers, the warmth of his palm pressing into yours.

"…Really?" You manage to choke out, your voice small and unsure. You've never heard San say anything like this before. You look up at him, searching his eyes for some hint of what he's feeling.

He nods, and without another word, he leans in, closing the gap between you. His breath is warm against your cheek, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours. It's a gentle kiss, tentative at first, as if he's afraid to break the spell. But then he deepens it, and suddenly you're lost in the sensation of his mouth moving against yours. It's nothing like you imagined, and yet everything you've ever wanted.

You completely melt in his arms, your body responding to the tender touch of his lips. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you can feel the blood rushing through your veins as if you've just woken from a deep sleep. San's hand moves to the back of your neck, gently cradling your head as he kisses you deeper, more passionately.

You literally felt yourself turning into putty, your hand gently grabbing onto his wrist as if it was a lifeline. Your mind was racing, trying to understand what was happening. You've dreamt of this moment, but never in a million years did you think it would come to pass. It was like your entire life had led up to this moment, and every nerve in your body was on high alert.

San's touch was surprisingly tender, his fingers exploring the curve of your jaw, the shell of your ear, sending waves of pleasure that crashed through your body like a storm at sea. You felt your own hand reach up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could somehow become one person.

Without warning, his hand on the back of your neck moved to the front, gripping your neck tightly and a rush of heat flashed through your body. You smiled into the kiss, the possessiveness of his hold getting you wet immediately. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the sheer want of it, but you didn't care.

San pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours, looking for confirmation. You nodded, not trusting your voice to convey the need building in your chest. He leaned in again, kissing you harder, and suddenly you weren't in the party anymore. You were in a world where it was just the two of you, and nothing else mattered.

He lifted you up and stood, leading you over to the bed without breaking the kiss. The room spun even more as he laid you down, his body pressing against yours. His weight was comforting, grounding you in a way that you hadn't felt in a long time. The world outside the room disappeared as his hands began to explore your body, tracing the lines of your waist, your hips, your thighs.

He pulls away from the kiss and you gasp for air, your chest heaving with anticipation. San's eyes are dark with want, and you realize that you're looking at him with the same hunger. He's never seen you like this before, and the realization sends a thrill down your spine. You can feel his hand trembling slightly as it rests on your waist, and it's strangely comforting to know that he's just as nervous as you are.

"Would this be your…" you gulp. "F-First time too-?" You've had your suspicions, but never the courage to ask. San nods, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I've never felt… I mean, with anyone, it's never been like this." His voice cracks with vulnerability, and suddenly, the gravity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks.

"Me neither." You murmur back, your voice shaky. The weight of your confession hangs in the air like a storm cloud. San's eyes widen for a moment before he nods, a small smile playing on his lips. He leans down to kiss you again, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms, letting him pull it over your head. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver.

The room is a haze of desire and nerves, each touch sending sparks flying. San's hands are gentle as he unhooks your bra, his eyes never leaving yours. You help him out of his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath. You can feel his heart racing against your palm, matching the rhythm of your own.

You scratch your nails down his chest and stomach, feeling the ridges of his abs. His breath hitches and you can't help but smirk. The sound of fabric rustling fills the room as you both struggle with your own and each other's clothing, a dance of need and want. Finally, you're both naked, the only thing between you the heat of your bodies.

"Um, w-what do you want me to, uh," you stuttered, your cheeks on fire as you felt your inexperience weighing down on you. San chuckled gently, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, his breath hot and sweet with the scent of whiskey.

"Whatever feels right," he murmured, his voice thick with need. You swallowed hard, your body responding to his closeness in ways you never knew it could. The room felt hotter, the air heavy with the promise of something more.

You nod and go quiet for a moment. "Can I, um," you gulp. "I-I could blow you off or…something."

San's eyes widen in surprise before a grin spreads across his face. "You want to?" His voice is a mix of excitement and disbelief.

You nod. "I-I've watched some videos."

San's grin turns into a full-blown smile. "Well, I'm all yours."

Your heart skips a beat as he lies back on the bed, his erection standing tall and proud. You've never seen him like this, never seen any guy like this up close. You've always been the good friend, the wingman, the one who's had a few awkward hookups but nothing serious. This is different. This is San, and he's letting you do this.

You lean over, taking him in your hand. He's warm and velvety, and you can feel his pulse beating in time with yours. You're both shaking with anticipation as you lean in, your mouth hovering just over the tip. You take a deep breath and then, you're doing it. You're actually giving your best friend a blowjob.

"Shit," he winces, his hand tightening in your hair as you go a bit too fast. You pull back, looking up at him with wide eyes, and he laughs softly, the tension in his body easing. "Sorry, just, go slower. I'm still a virgin too."

You nod, a little embarrassed but mostly relieved. You start again, taking your time to explore him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip. He gasps, and the sound sends a thrill through you, making you bolder.

You gently suck on his tip, using your hands to stroke whatever wasn't in your mouth, feeling the power of his reaction. Each gasp and groan from San was like music to your ears. It was intoxicating, the way he was losing control under your touch, the way he was yours for this moment. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every second, your own need building.

"F-Fuck," San curses under his breath as you continue, his body tensing with pleasure. His hand guides yours, showing you the rhythm he likes. You watch him closely, his face a mix of pleasure and concentration, his eyes tightly shut. You've never felt so… powerful before. So connected to someone else's pleasure.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling him twitch with every movement. The salty taste of him fills your mouth, and you can't help but moan around his length, the vibration sending him over the edge. "I'm gonna…" he warns you, his voice strained.

You pull away, crawling forward and kissing him on the lips. He tastes faintly of whiskey, and the saltiness of your kisses is a stark contrast. His eyes are wild with need, and you know you've done well. You can't believe you're doing this with San, but the excitement only makes it better. You straddle him, feeling his erection press against you.

He smiles and grabs your hips, flipping the two of you over and laying you on your back. He began to kiss your neck, taking his time to kiss along your body. Each kiss sending a wave of pleasure that made your toes curl. He took his time, savoring every inch of your skin as if it was the first time he'd ever felt anything so soft.

Once he made it to your stomach, you couldn't help but squirm with excitement. The way his teeth grazed your skin was driving you crazy, and you felt your pussy throb with desire. "San," you whimper, your voice thick with lust.

"Um, just -- just tell me what feels good." he gulps, his eyes wide and searching yours for guidance. You nod, biting your lower lip as he leans down to kiss your neck, his hand finding its way between your thighs. The tips of his fingers graze your pussy, and you jump at the sensation. He's so gentle, so tender, like he's afraid to hurt you. But all you want is for him to touch you, really touch you.

"Ah," you gasp as San's fingers finally slip between your folds, the sensation sending a shock through your body. He's so tentative, so unsure, and it's endearing and erotic at the same time. You spread your legs wider, giving him better access. "Just, just like that," you murmur, guiding his hand.

"Like this?" San's voice is a whisper, his fingers moving in a slow, exploratory circle around your clit. You nod, your eyes rolling back in your head. The feeling is exquisite, and you've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Yet, you've never felt so safe.

As he continues to tease you, you feel your body begin to tighten, the pressure building like a coil ready to snap. You arch your back, your hands finding his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as you try to guide him closer. San seems to understand, his touch growing more confident as he explores your body.

"R-Right there, don't stop," you pant as his fingers dance over your sensitive nub. The pleasure is almost too much, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. San's eyes meet yours, a question in their depths, and you nod frantically. He seems to understand, his movements growing more purposeful.

"Y-Your mouth," you stammer, unable to form coherent words. San's eyes light up with understanding, and moved down to replace his fingers with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your clit with the same gentle pressure. You let out a moan that fills the room, the pleasure so intense it's almost unbearable.

"S-San! Fuck, oh my god!" You cry out as his tongue flicks against your clit, the sensation shooting straight to your core. His eyes are dark with lust, his cheeks flushed as he watches you unravel beneath him. His hands hold your thighs open, his grip firm but gentle.

San's mouth is heaven, his tongue flicking and teasing until you're bucking your hips up to meet him. Your hands are in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as you try to control the waves of pleasure that are crashing over you. Each stroke, each suck feels like it's bringing you closer and closer to something you've never felt before.

"Oh my god it's so good, so--fuck, don't stop, pleasepleasplease-!" You're not even sure if the words are coming out coherently as you beg for more of his touch. His eyes never leave yours, a fiery determination burning in them as he continues to lick and suck your clit, his hands gripping your thighs firmly to keep you in place.

You feel the orgasm building, like a crescendo in a symphony of pleasure that you've never heard before. Your toes curl and your back arches off the bed as San's tongue works its magic, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna come," you breathe out, the words barely a whisper.

San's eyes never leave yours as he nods, his tongue moving faster, his mouth sucking harder. And then it happens. Your body convulses, a wave of pleasure so intense it's almost painful as you climax, your walls tightening around his fingers that are still inside you, pumping gently in time with the pulsing of your orgasm. You scream his name, your voice hoarse from the force of your release.

"O-Oh my god, oh my god, oh my -- GOD, FUCK! D-Don't stop, I'm -- I need-" You babble incoherently as the orgasm washes over you, your body convulsing with the sheer intensity of the pleasure. San doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony, bringing you higher and higher until you're sure you're going to shatter. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, you do.

You come hard, your pussy clamping down around his fingers as you cry out his name. He laps at you through your orgasm, swallowing your juices eagerly. You collapse onto the bed, panting and trembling, your body a live wire of sensation. You've never felt anything so amazing in your life, and the fact that it's your best friend doing this to you only makes it more intense.

San looks up at you, a smug smile playing on his lips. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. "Was that okay?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "M-More than okay," you murmur. "It was fucking amazing."

San's smile turns into a full-on grin, his eyes sparkling with pride. He kisses his way back up your body, his erection pressing against your thigh. "Good," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Because I've been waiting for this for a long time."

He positions himself between your legs, and you can feel his cock at your entrance. You're still trembling from your orgasm, but the anticipation of what's to come has you more than ready for this next step. You look up at him, your eyes filled with need. "Do it," you whisper.

San nods, his own breaths ragged with desire. He presses in, slow and steady, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. You bite your lip, your eyes squeezed shut, as you feel yourself stretching around his girth. It's tight, uncomfortable, but it's a feeling you want more of. He's gentle, so much gentler than you ever expected, and it's like he's trying to memorize every sensation.

"Holy shit," his face is contorting the further he goes, his breath coming in ragged pants. You've never seen him look like this, so lost in pleasure, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through your body. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice strained.

"Yeah?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper as you arch your back slightly, urging him deeper. San nods, his eyes squeezed shut as if in silent prayer. He pushes in further, and you can feel every inch of him filling you up, stretching you in a way that's both painful and exquisite. You're so wet, so ready, and the pressure is building up again, a new storm of pleasure threatening to break free.

"Fuck, I-I feel like coming already," San whispers, his voice strained as he fights for control. You can feel his cock pulse inside you, his need palpable. You nod, your own body eager for the next step.

You pull him down and place a hand on the back of his neck, the other running through his hair. "It feels good? You like it?"

San nods, his eyes still closed, lost in the sensation. "Y-eah," he says, his voice tight with restraint. "So good."

You giggle, gently rocking your hips back and forth for some sort of friction. He hisses and grabs your hips. "Fuck, I was serious! I'm trying really hard not to come-"

You pull him down and kiss him, silencing his protests with a gentle press of your lips to his. The kiss deepens, your tongue slipping into his mouth to taste the whiskey and the hint of saltiness from your own skin. You can feel his cock pulse inside you, and it's like a drug, making you want to move, to feel more of him.

"It feels that good? Really?" you chuckle, still moving your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist to encourage more movement. San nods, his eyes snapping open to meet yours, the intensity in them making you feel like you could set the room on fire with a single look.

With a gasp, you feel him move, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, the sensation making your toes curl. He does it again, and again, building a rhythm that feels like it was made just for you. You can feel your second orgasm approaching, and the knowledge that he's feeling just as much as you are sends you spiraling closer to the edge.

"You're so beautiful," he huffs, leaning down and pushing his face into the crook of your neck. "I can't believe this is happening." His words are muffled by the skin, but you feel the vibration of them, the raw emotion behind them. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as he starts to move faster, his hips thrusting into yours with an increasing urgency.

"I can't believe it either," you murmur back, your eyes drifting shut as the pleasure starts to overwhelm you. San's movements are getting more erratic, his breathing ragged. You can feel him getting closer, and the thought of him losing control is thrilling. You tighten your legs around him, urging him on with soft whimpers and moans.

"'m sorry, I-I can't-" he whimpered, his moans muffled from his face pressing into you. "I-I can't hold it-"

You tighten your legs around him, urging him closer, feeling the beginnings of another climax building within you. "It's okay," you whisper, your voice shaky with your own need. "Come inside me."

"B-But what about-" San starts to protest, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. But you know what you want, and you're not letting him ruin this moment with his fears.

"Don't worry about it," you murmur, your nails digging into his back. "Just do it."

San nods, his eyes flying open as he starts to move faster, his hips pounding into yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and you can feel the headboard slamming into the wall with every thrust. It's animalistic, raw, and utterly perfect. Your breaths are coming in short gasps as you feel yourself climbing higher and higher.

His hand moves to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that have your eyes rolling back in your head. The pressure builds, coiling in your belly until you can't take it anymore. "I'm gonna come," San grunts, his voice guttural with need. "I'm gonna c-come so hard inside you."

You nod, your breath hitching as you feel the beginnings of another orgasm. "Do it," you pant. "Come inside me, San."

San's eyes widen, and with one final, powerful thrust, he releases his control. You feel the hot rush of his cum fill you up, and the feeling is more intense than you ever could have imagined. It's like a dam has burst, and the pleasure is flooding through your entire body. You come again, your pussy clamping down around his cock as he fills you up. You can't help the scream that rips from your throat, the sound echoing through the room.

For San, he felt his spine shiver when he came, and he watched with wide eyes as you convulsed around him, your body squeezing every drop of pleasure from his own. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest, the intensity of the moment washing over him like a wave. He didn't know what to say, so he just held you, his cock still inside of you, both of your bodies trembling in the aftermath of your shared climax.

The both of you were well beyond sober at this point, lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. San remained inside you, his eyes searching yours, his breathing still heavy and ragged. "Are you okay?" he managed to ask, his voice a gruff whisper. You nodded, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. You could feel his cock still pulsing inside you, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as his body began to still. His weight felt right, like he was made to fit you perfectly. "Yeah," you murmured, your voice barely a breath. "Better than okay." The room was silent except for the sound of your panting breaths, the world outside forgotten.

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