#Fictional men are going to be the death of me

[dameronspector]

Willow (chapter 2)

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!ExAvenger!Reader

Chapter Summary: You are Bucky's assistant in his (flop) political career, Valentina is a bitch, you lie to Bucky, you meet 3 assassins and Bob, you almost die surrounded by 4 strangers.

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Death, Dead Body, Guns, Gunshots, Injuries, Fight scenes, Canon-typical violence, Vomiting, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cursing, Found Family, Cap Fam content, Reader is mentioned to be short, NWH has taken place, Valentina being a manipulative leech, John Walker Hate- click off if you don't want to read that, light soulmate AU vibes, Reader has magical abilities of the goddess Hecate (eg: necromancy, pyrokinesis, hypnokinesis, dark magic, etc. you can find the rest on rioridanwiki!), that’s all i think!

AN: ooo it gets juicy from here onwards hehehe.

PS: this is a work of fiction. I don't own any of these characters and I have made some changes to fit the storyline better and because it's an AU. I have taken all the information from google and riordanwiki. Incase I have gotten anything wrong, please let me know!

2027

If someone would’ve told your 10 year old self that you’d become Bucky Barnes’ assistant at 27 years of age, you’d laugh at them.

But that’s exactly what happened.

Bucky deciding to enter politics was still wild to you. How and why he decided that, you’re not sure. But it seemed to give him purpose, so you and Sam encouraged him.

Sam was also the one who told you to join Bucky. Because of your degree in psychology, Sam decided that you’d be the perfect candidate to help Bucky out after convincing you for days. (Tony made you go to college during The Blip, keeping up the promise of making you attend school. And now you had to train a hundred and ten year old man on how to act in front of the media and his colleagues.)

There was also a new addition to your list of best friends-Joaquin Torres, whose hyperactive and youthful energy kept you on your toes as you finally had someone of your age around you. He reminded you of another person you knew, but you simply couldn’t remember him or his name. It was a strange feeling—the memories were there, and they were so vibrant, but his face was blurry.

You quickly grew attached to Joaquin and Isaiah, the two of them becoming a vital part of your small family and you were devastated when Isaiah was arrested and Joaquin met with that accident on Sentinel Island.

Bucky and you visited them right away, with Bucky reuniting with Sam after 2 whole years. Why 2 years you ask?

Bucky had gone off to do god knows what, while you kept working with Sam, helping him around the office and on field when Joaquin was busy with his army duties.

After making sure he was alright, Bucky reassured Sam about his decision, and with an emotional embrace between the two men plus you, the two of you left to DC to work on Bucky’s next public appearance, with you promising Sam that you'd visit Joaquin as soon as he was conscious.

-

Bucky was a PR disaster.

No matter how much you trained him, he was a 110 years old, had no filter on his mouth, and with that perpetual grumpy face, he was not helping his public persona at all.

“Would it kill you to smile properly?”, you murmured through gritted teeth, keeping a fake smile plastered to your face as you walked beside Congressman Bucky Barnes around the senate building, wearing a black power suit to match Bucky's, throwing polite smiles at the other candidates while Bucky scowled, any attempts at a smile making it look like he had been stabbed in his gut instead.

“There’s nothin’ to smile about. I don’t know any of these people”, he grumbled next to you, looking sharp in his suit and long hair slicked back.

You pursed your lips, trying your best to not laugh at him. He was adorably old fashioned and out of place.

“Yeah, alright, peepaw. But you need to show those chompers to get all the votes, okay? So smile, before I tickle you", you threatened him loosely and smiled at another camera, the reporters crowding around you and Bucky, shoving mics into his face. He gripped the documents in his hands tighter, feeling like the tie was slowly choking him.

"Congressman Barnes, any words on today's hearing?", the tall reporter approached Bucky, her mic in front of Bucky while the others crowded his personal space.

You could feel the agitation rolling off of him in waves, standing right behind him and fiddling with your ring that concealed your twin celestial bronze daggers.

"Well, I'm not on the impeachment committee, but uh--", he paused, looking around the other reporters before continuing, "the-uh--rumors of uh--wrongdoing, are um--very worrying. They are, uh-- very concerning...and um--worrying, and uh--we're gonna get to the bottom of this uh--", he cleared his throat, "worrying issue."

You were this close to face palming yourself in front of the press. Your eyes were blown wide in disbelief, body frozen as you took in his horrible attempt at a comment and the way the reporters' faces fell.

And you were so sure that his face was, once again, molded into that classic resting face. He said a thank you and moved ahead, the movement snapping you out of your daze and you rushed to follow him.

"What the hell was that?!", you seethed and poked his stomach, his body jerking away slightly at that.

"I--I don't know! What am I s'pposed to say?!", he whispered back in exasperation.

"Anything! Maybe don't say 'worrying' thrice in a continuous sentence!"

He pouted and grumbled, "This is my first time, you're so mean", you threw a glare in his direction before composing yourself as the two of you entered the jury room.

The situation in question was regarding CIA director, Valentina Allegra De Fontaine's impeachment, due to her connection to illegal black ops projects. If someone would've asked you for your honest opinion, you would simply say that you hated the woman.

She was on a power trip and straight up insane, as told to you by Bucky, who received news from Shuri about what Valentina tried to do in Wakanda and even got Everett Ross arrested, who was her Ex-Husband. Even now, as you sat in the last row with Bucky and observed the hearing silently, the arrogance dripping from her tongue and her uncaring attitude towards the trial told you everything about the kind of person she is. You swore you'd do anything to stay away from her.

But it's almost as if the universe listens to your wishes and decides to do the exact opposite.

As soon as the session was over, Bucky had been whisked off by Congressmen Gary, and that left you standing in the huge lobby, passing the time by watching the memes sent by Morgan (yes you had a phone now, that Princess Shuri so gracefully made for you on Bucky's request, altering the signals and frequency with Wakandan high-tech. Ever since that happened, you'd been dying to meet her.)

You were grinning at the screen when you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned, "How was-Oh", you cut off the greeting when you saw that it wasn't Bucky but the devil herself and your smile dimmed instantly.

"Hi. Barnes' assistant, right?", Valentina flashed you a mechanical smile, that made her look like a wax figure, and her assistant was standing next to her with a confused look on the face.

You looked at the two of them in suspicion before smiling formally, going back into professional mode, "Miss De Fontaine. Yes, I'm his assistant, although he's actually speaking to-"

"Oh, no, no! I didn't want to speak to him. I wanted to speak to you!", she spoke in an over excited tone and the hair on your neck stood up.

"M-me? Why?", you laughed nervously, exchanging a glance with her assistant who subtly shrugged.

"To give you an offer!"

Your mouth fell open. You needed to get out of here and find Bucky, now.

"Uh-I'm not interested, actually-"

"Age: 27 years old, Biological Father deceased, Lived in a camp for demi-gods or whatever till she was 15, Has greek god powers, which is--wow, surprising, Rescued by the Avengers, been an active Avenger till 2023, lived in a sad little apartment for a year, worked with Captain America for 3 years and now working for Congressman Barnes. Excellent resume, I must say!", she listed off while smiling sardonically.

The soles of your feet were frozen to the marble floors. If you had to see yourself from the outside, you were so sure that you'd see your skin turn gray because you felt your heart stop at Valentina's words.

How the fuck did she find out about all that? That information was confidentially stored by Tony and only two persons other than him knew the key to it: you and Bruce. There's no way she found out about this so easily.

Valentina noticed your reaction and laughed casually, like she hadn't just dropped a bomb on you.

"Oh yeah, I know everything about you. It wasn't that hard, actually, when you have enough resources to get into sensitive data and retrieve information. Anyways, I have a vault in Utah. There's some...confidential stuff and assets, from a previous project inside the vault. Someone is trying to steal my stuff. You, will go there, and stop her", she finished, her eyes staring into yours intensely, as if she was hypnotising you.

You grimaced, looking her up and down in disgust, "Why would I do that for you?"

Valentina smirked, "Because...if you don't, I will leak your bio data with just one click and let the government do whatever they want with it. It could put you and your little camp at risk", she threatened with a sickly sweet smile on her face.

You let out an involuntary laugh, the disbelief and shock making you delirious, "You are actively threatening me. You know I could testify against you right?"

Valentina's face turned serious, your jab hitting her straight in the face, her left eye twitching with irritation.

"Foolish girl. I could still prove in court that you are a fraud and are lying to the state about a bigger threat", she seethed at you before relaxing again, "It'd be wise for you to just say yes to my deal. And don't try to tell James. Unless...you want to willingly shoulder the responsibility for whatever happens to him, too?"

You felt sick. If she stood here any longer, you were going to projectile vomit on her.

She was not only threatening to prove you as a fraud and enemy of the state, but also to hurt Bucky and blame you for it? This was so fucked up. You shouldn't have left Bucky's side. You could feel your magic boiling in your veins, itching to be released, your fingertips burning with the beginnings of a flame, eyes swirling with the purple hidden behind your natural irises. You had gotten much better at controlling your powers but it always went sideways whenever someone provoked you.

Valentina noticed your clenched fists and the slight flickering of the lights. She scoffed and patted your shoulder patronisingly. Your jaw ticked.

"Oh, Relax, there's no need for unnecessary drama. Mel, send her the coordinates to the vault. And make sure her phone is tracked. Let me know if she doesn't reach the vault by the next 2 hours, hm?", she instructed Mel and left, without sparing you a glance.

Mel looked at your heaving body and teary eyes with concern, "I'd listen to what she says. She's...", Mel gulped, "She can and will ruin your life. I've sent you the coordinates. Good luck", Mel whispered, before speed walking after Valentina.

-

You weren't sure how long you stood there, staring into nothingness with your hands shaking and feet sweating. It seemed like your body had shut down, your brain numb to any thoughts or information, ears producing that tinny sound, making everything sound like a distant hum.

"Hey, doll? You okay?", Bucky's quiet voice filled your ears and he stood in front of you, hands gently holding your arms and ice blue eyes staring at you in concern. That's when you snapped out of your stupor, glassy eyes staring into Bucky's blankly.

"What's wrong?", he asked in alarm, blocking your view from the crowd filling in the lobby now.

You swallowed thickly, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible before Valentina does something stupid.

"I-uh-I don't feel well. Can I go home?", you managed to spit out, your fingers playing with your ring again.

Bucky furrowed his brows. You usually hung around till he was ready to leave, not wanting to leave him alone with a bunch of strangers but it has been a long night and a day, you had come to the hearing immediately after visiting Joaquin in the hospital, so he understood that you must've been exhausted.

"Yeah, of course. You want me to drop you off?"

"No!", you blurted out, cursing inwardly for giving a knee-jerk reaction, "Uh- no, there's no need. I'll be fine. I have to uh-work on some papers and read the packets as well. So...I'll go on my own", you tried to give him a hesitant smile, your lips quivering lightly.

His intense stare cut through you as he tried to understand if something was off with you. Usually, you would've stayed at his apartment, to avoid the extra commute and he asked you to do so, so that he can keep you company. But he also knew that you needed your own space at times.

So he simply nodded and murmured a small, 'Okay', patting your shoulder with a smile.

You tried to return it as best as you could, rushing out of the venue right after. Bucky watched you go suspiciously, having taken notice of the tearful eyes, the shaky and fidgety hands and the clipped tone.

-

You hailed a cab and reached your apartment, gathering whatever gear you had, along with the specially designed suit that Tony had gifted you.

It was purple and black in colour, made out of comfortable Kevlar that would protect you from any severe injuries, even if your powers were enough to protect you. It was a lovely suit, Tony had even asked for your own input in the design. Your favourite part about it was the tapering fabric on the back, that ended below your knees and fluttered prettily every time you moved.

You changed into the suit and stuffed your enchanted rope in the carry on bag, along with your book of spells that you had turned invisible with the help of the mist, and actual knives that would hurt mortals. While packing, Valentina's words kept echoing in your ears like a mantra. How did she get her hands on this information? And why did she choose you instead of Bucky? You almost picked up your phone to call Happy and question him about the same when you paused.

You hadn't talked to Happy properly since--

May's funeral. Your heart fell into a pit of despair. You lost May two years ago, all because some pathetic villain from another dimension had gone loose. Happy wasn't the same since then, neither were you, and neither was...Neither was who?

You kept blanking on the same thing whenever you thought of May. There was someone else. Someone who you cared about. Someone who was important. But...how can you miss a person whose face never existed in your memories?

You decided to stuff your phone deep inside the bag and leave, the persistent ache pressing against your chest harshly.

You just prayed Bucky would not come after you so you left him a note, stating that you were visiting a friend from camp on emergency basis, enough to keep him distracted for a while.

You almost considered shadow travelling to reach the destination as quickly as possible, but then remembered the time you had gone to Bulgaria on a mission with Sam and tried to get home by shadow travelling. It was so exhausting, that you passed out for a week straight, putting Sam and Joaquin into distress. You couldn't afford passing out now.

That's why you opted to simply inform Valentina that you were ready and she sent you the location to an abandoned helipad, an OXE issued helicopter already parked there to drop you in Utah and she infirmed that your biometrics had already been entered in the system to give you access.

-

After hiking up a mountain, you finally spitted the big and wide building, the area around it completely desolate. That alone, was sending off warning bells inside your brain. Valentina had sent you a photo of your target, a blonde, short woman who was dressed in a muted olive green suit, with a sharp look in her eyes.

You already hated working for Valentina, because there no proper debrief or plan that you had to follow, your disciplined half-blood and Avenger body protesting against her style of working as you grew more and more agitated.

"You'll know who she is once you get there", is what she had texted you when you asked for more details. What a loser.

"Perfect place for some shady shit", you muttered under your breath, the minimalistic but grandiose look of the vault was pretty in character for her.

Huffing and dusting away the dirt on your hands, you moved cautiously inside the building, it's automatic doors parting for you and opening up to a dimly lit lobby, the interior a mix of rocky surfaces, sleek floors, textured walls and 4 spherical elevators. You looked around the space, confirming that nobody was lurking before conjuring a protective bubble around you and entering one of the lifts, the revolving doors shutting close.

It took you approximately 20 seconds to reach the actual vault, the doors opening to a rectangular opening right in front of you. The entrance had heavy paneling around it, a white light illuminating around the edges and there was a large room inside, scattered with boxes, machines, papers and what looked like to be coffins. You felt your powers pulse at that.

As you exited the elevator, you heard grunts and metallic clinks, causing you to put your guard up as you heard more than one person's movements. You conjured a mist and concealed yourself, choosing to observe before attacking them.

As soon as you entered the room, 3 people were engaged in combat-- the blonde haired woman--your target, a masked person with armour and shield and a man who was dressed like--Steve? As you stepped closer you realised that it was John Walker, Walmart Captain America, Resident Asshole and #1 enemy of your family.

All of sudden a person appeared out of thin air, their body appearing in a particular--staticky way, like they were a damaged TV screen that phased in and out of view. The blonde woman was standing defensively behind a box, with John combating the armoured person.

John kicked the armoured person who landed on their back harshly before turning his attention to the blonde. He noticed her eyes flick over his shoulder and he turned around, the person coming into view in a cool suit and helmet.

"There you are", her Russian accent clear as day, as she addressed the phasing woman.

"Now what?", John complained, as usual, might you add.

"Oh, get over yourself", it was a woman then, and you already liked her for putting John in his place.

John took a defensive stance and the woman charged, phasing through him and appearing in front of the armoured person, punching them even further away in the room.

The blonde woman whipped around and used her tasers on the phasing woman, which passed through her body and latched onto John instead, who keeled over in pain. Her tasers looked quite similar to Natasha's widow bites, you noticed.

The phasing woman knocked over the armoured person before your target jumped on her back, the woman once again disappeared and let your target drop on the metallic floor before kicking her in the ribs, causing her to moan in pain.

"Stay out of my way!", the woman ordered your target and walked away.

You took that as an opportunity to pin down your target, dissolving the mist around you and casting a confinement spell, purple tendrils of magic looping around the woman and squeezing her.

"Wh-whaaat the hell is happening?!", she cried out, looking at her torso in concern.

"It's alright, don't fight against them or else they'll tighten", you calmly explained to her, glowing purple eyes focused on her intently, bright tendrils of magic bursting from your moving fingertips.

"Who the hell are you?!", she yelled in irritation, her blond hair messily falling onto her forehead and the other three stopped fighting, looking at you in confusion.

John's eyes widened in recognition and he let out a disbelieving chuckle, "No fucking way. (Name)? Sam Wilson's sidekick, (Name)? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, John", you quipped.

Taking that as an opportunity, the armoured person drew an ignited arrow and shot it in John's direction, John's shoes scraping against the floor as the force of the arrow threw him back.

John retaliated by pulling out his gun and firing at the person, their shield coming up to protect themselves when suddenly someone jumped on your back, breaking your concentration effectively. Your hands came around your neck, pulling the person's hands away and heard a thud as your target fell to the ground.

The phasing woman turned you around, squeezing your throat and kicking you away before muttering, "You're new. Sit this one out", and walking over to the blonde, tackling her down and running over to John.

You gasped and let out a cough, your hand around your throat, when you saw your target flip over a table, dragging it down with her as a cover and John throw his shield in her direction, which bounced back from one of the coffin-like apparatus behind your target.

You groaned and steadied yourself on an arm, holding out your free arm in your target's direction and letting your magic lift the table away, revealing her crouched form behind it. You threw the table away in John's direction, throwing him in the opposite direction before fast-walking towards the blonde. You conjured a knife and hurled it in her direction, to which she replied with a duck and roll behind a container box.

John started shooting at you then, you clenched your jaw and lifted a hand, eyes glowing purple-blue from annoyance, right arm extended in front of you with your palm spread and stopped his bullets mid-air. He gaped at that in shock, before you sneered and flicked your hand, deflecting the bullets towards him. John brought up his shield to stop them, the bullets ricocheting off his shield and piercing into the many containers.

He recovered quickly and both of you ran towards the blonde, her shooting the widow bites in both of your directions and you fell to the floor, convulsing from the electric shock.

Everything was a blur for few minutes and then—a gunshot. A body fell behind you. The blonde released you from the bite and you turned around breathlessly, holding yourself up on shaking arms to see that the armoured person had fallen to the ground, a gunshot right in the middle of their skull shaped mask.

The phasing woman retracted her helmet, her brunette hair coming into view when the four of you heard gagging and sounds of bile hitting the floor from across the room.

All of you whipped your heads around to stare at the sound before standing in alarm—the blonde pointing her gun at the phasing woman, her pointing it at John and John pointing his at you. You stood with your arms extended, fiery swirls emanating from your fingertips, body charged with adrenaline as the dark and moody environment helped your magic strengthen.

All of sudden, the three of them slowly turned their heads towards you, three guns pointed in your direction.

Your hands raised up further in defense, "Wait. She hired me like...a few hours ago. I don't work for her. I'm just here to take you out", you admitted while pointing at the blonde, the flames moving with your hand.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up from behind a huge container.

"Oh...Is she actually..?"

All of you turned to the voice, their weapons and your magic up in defense towards a…

Tall man in hospital scrubs?

He tried to run away from your group, running towards the opening of the room when the heavy metal doors shut close, making a loud bang and causing him to stop abruptly before he turned around in loss.

He had shaggy brown hair that curled at the ends, arms up in the air and even though he was quiet tall, the scrubs were oversized on him, making the sleeves cover his hands and pants pool around his feet a little.

There was something weirdly charming about him, his voice was solid and very deep but his features were soft, a dopey smile and dazed expression on his face that made you think he was either high or had just woken up from a nap.

“the…”, he continued while pointing at the armoured person lying motionless on the floor.

You felt an odd tug in your chest, something about him was drawing you in, a faint flutter in your stomach and a bell going off in your head that he was not as ordinary as he seems.

“Oh. Oh, no”, your target replied, sparing a glance at the dead body in the room.

“Hello, Hi…I-I’m Bob”, Bob nervously introduced himself, a hand raised in greeting. You noticed the way he kept jittering and shuffling, as if his body couldn’t stay still for more than 5 seconds.

The phasing lady squinted her eyes at him, “Who are you?”, getting closer to him with her gun still raised.

Bob furrowed his eyebrows, “I-I’m Bob. I-I told you, I’m..yeah. I’m Bob”, he replied in a shaky voice, his arms raised above his head in surrender.

You tilted your head, trying to figure him out.

“Jesus Christ, Stop saying ‘Bob’”, John complained and you rolled your eyes.

“Who sent you, Bob?”, Yelena questioned him.

Bob’s face shifted in confusion, “Nobody. Why would they send me?”, he pointed at the four of you then, “were all of you sent?”

His eyes sweeped over the group before landing on you, body momentarily freezing in place, eyes widening just a fraction. You felt your body light up with goosebumps, your concentration wavering and the flames around your hands disappeared completely.

“Whoa. Are you doing that? That came out of your body?”, Bob said in awe, his eyes wide with wonder.

You felt your mouth twitch slightly, his enthusiasm was magnetic and you shrugged casually.

“That’s so cool. Wh-”

“Hold on. Who are you?”, your target cut off Bob and turned her attention towards you. Bob closed his mouth and observed you closely.

You coughed lightly before introducing yourself, “I’m (Name). I wo—I used to work with the Avengers.”

Walker snorted in humourlessly, as if your introduction personally offended him. You looked at him furiously, an eyebrow quirked in irritation.

“You got any problem with that?”, you seethed.

“Oh, nothing, except the fact that you are one of their strongest members, you have a mysterious past that nobody has found out yet, you worked with Stark, Wilson, and now you work with Bucky. Isnlt that right, Miss all rounder?”, he sassed.

Bob let out a breathy ‘Wow’ while your hands shook with agitation, a violent purple glow slowly taking over them before your target cocked her gun and pointed it at you and Walker, the phasing lady watching the three of you in boredom.

“That’s enough! Why are you here, (Name)?”

You clenched your hands into fists and looked at her, “Valentina sent me kill you. Said you were stealing OXE’s assets. I don’t even know who you are. Are you a widow?”

Yelena’s face shifted in shock, her gun slightly lowered, “I’m Yelena, why do you ask?”

Shrugging, you crossed your arms around your chest and pointed at her wrists, “Those are widow’s bites. I was trained by Natasha Romanoff.”

Yelena’s eyes widened, her eyes coated with a light sheen of tears. The phasing lady rolled her eyes again.

The phasing lady exhaled, “I'm not sure what's going on here, but you're all exhausting and my job is done”, she moved away from the group and you furrowed your brows. Yelena quickly recovered from her moment to reply.

“Oh, I bet. You see my job, is watching you. So, no, you're not going anywhere else”, Yelena rebutted, her gun pointed at the other woman’s direction.

Walker scoffed again, “So you're watching her, huh? That's a halfway decent cover for someone stealing OXE’s assets.”

You paused before jumping in, “He’s kinda right about that.”

Yelena gave you a brief glare, “I'm not stealing. She's stealing.”

All of you stared at her silently and the blonde closed her eyes in resignation before lifting her arms up in surrender, “Okay. It’s clear that we have all worked for Valentina in some kind of shadow ops role.”

“So what?”

Yelena moved her hand with the gun in a circular motion, “So all of this is OXE’s mysteries. But so are we.”

“Which makes us the unknown liabilities in this…”

“Speak for yourself”, Walker defended.

“We're the evidence and this is the shredder. She wants us gone”, Yelena snapped, her hand making a ‘cutting the neck’ motion.

When she said the word ‘shredder’, you truly looked around the warehouse. There were four large openings above you, covered in heavy metal, dark and hollow inside, making it look unsettling. You should’ve noticed that the moment you came in.

“Your theory is flawed”, Walker brushed her off.

“Oh please. Go on.”

Walker cleared his throat before beginning his speech, “Fine. Well, let's look at the facts. The infamous Ghost, Ava Starr, A SHIELD reject on the run across 15 nations”, he pointed at the phasing lady— whose name was Ava, as you just found out, “Dead girl over there, she destroyed half of Budapest—”

“Don’t talk about that”, Yelena frowned.

“—You, A former Red Room assassin. Only God knows the blood on your hands”, Yelena rolled her eyes.

Then Walker turned to you, a stupid smile plastered to his face, his equally stupid helmet making him look like a raccoon. You raised your eyebrows in challenge.

“And you. Well, you’re quite special, yet we know nothing about you. If Valentina selected you to take out someone like Yelena, then she must have some interesting dirt on you, for sure.”

You pursed your lips in subtle annoyance and nervousness, Valentina’s threat ringing in your ears.

“Pretty rich coming from a dime-store Captain America”, Ava scoffed and you let out a breathy chuckle.

“I want you to know I was actually the official Captain America, so—”

“Yeah, for like two seconds”

“Before you publicly murdered an innocent man in the streets”, Ava added.

"Really? Define innocent.”

You whipped your head to look at Walker, a surprised look on your face.

“Are you sure you to be publicly embarrassed like that, Walker?”, you challenged him.

Walker pursed his lips, his face flashing with something akin to regret before he puffed his chest out again, “Hey, look. I'm a decorated war veteran, okay? I have a loving wife and a son. Let's be honest. You guys are just cheap mercenaries, alright? So clearly I wasn't supposed to bring you in.”

You, Yelena and Ava let out disbelieving snorts. Walker stared in a dumbfounded manner.

“That was funny. Thanks. We needed that”, Yelena taunted him in between chuckles. John rolled his eyes.

“It's getting pretty tense in here….”, Bob’s voice rung out and all four of you turned to look at him.

Your eyes lingered on him and his smile, the way his fidgeting and nervousness bled into his chuckle, before he suddenly stopped, his energy dimming by looking at Walker’s glare.

“…For a second”, he cleared his throat and ducked his head down, hiding behind the container again.

You glared at Walker, hating the way he seemed to take out the good energy in the room just by being his insufferable self.

“I'm not leaving here without completing my mission. Valentina gave me a clean slate guarantee and I'm not going to blow it. But this weirdo wasn't part of the job, so I need to know. How did you get in?”, he asked Bob in irritation.

Bob shuffled, “I don’t remember.”

You narrowed your eyes. He was lying. You could feel it.

“Are you sure about that?”, you asked him carefully, his wide eyes looking at you now, mouth agape and hands wringing each other.

“I-I-”

“Excellent answer. Alright, tie him up”, Walker interrupted him.

“Can you shut the fuck up for a minute?”, you gritted your teeth.

“Wow”, Yelena flatly replied.

“No, and goodbye”, Ava announced and moved around the dead body to take out all the weapons.

“Hey. Job or not, could you have some respect, please?”, Yelena chided.

“Yeah, Jesus. Get outta here”, Walker mock agreed with Yelena before moving around Ava to remove the knives from the body.

You and Yelena stared at him in disgust.

“What? She’d want me to have it”, he defended himself and you rolled your eyes.

“Who is that?”, you asked Yelena curiously.

Yelena’s face dimmed, “We…worked in the Red Room together. She was the commander, General Dreykov’s daughter, Antonia Dreykov.”

You stared at Antonia’s body before your face shifted in recognition.

“Dreykov….Oh shit. Natasha told me about this. She went through a lot”, you mumbled solemnly and once again Yelena stared at you in that emotional way, her eyes shining with a pain that you couldn’t pin point yet.

You looked at her closely, trying to decipher what was going on in her head but she was already focusing on something else. Likely avoiding any type of confrontation.

Suddenly there was a low hum and a gradual increase in the room’s temperature, bouts of hot air hitting the top of your head, like someone was breathing down your neck. You looked around in alarm, hands tingling with adrenaline.

“What was that?”, you questioned, unsure if you were imagining it.

“Doesn't sound like a shredder.”

“It's an incinerator”, Ava informed, confirmed your fear. Yelena turned around and then you noticed it, the timer on the wall. It was counting the minutes and seconds till your imminent death.

“Two minutes. Then Valentina's slate is clean”, Yelena replied.

“You don't know that for sure. It could be for anything. It could be for when they come to pick me up”, Walker was being as delusional as ever.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Good god.”

“You feel that? Temperature's rising dramatically like heat is involved?”, Ava seethed and that got him to look around, the smug smile wiped off his face.

“Well, it is an incinerator.”

“Oh, boy. That is not a way to go”, Bob spoke from behind you.

You jumped a bit and turned to face him, curls framing his eyes and eyes blown wide. Since he was so close, you could finally see that his eyes were blue in colour. Not the kind of pale blue like Bucky, a deep blue, a colour that was close to that of a clean ocean body surrounded by healthy reefs. A colour like the brightest sapphire. It suited him well.

Suddenly his eyes shifted, looking down at you in interest. He was quite taller now that he was right next to you, so you had to crane your neck to look at him properly.

His eyes sparkled and you felt a tug in your chest, something that was pulling you close to him, something that made you feel like there was a connection between the two of you. Your heart was beating faster for some reason.

Bob wasn’t doing any better.

He wasn’t sure why, but right from the moment your eyes met across the room, he felt like you had hypnotised him. He couldn’t help but feel his hands twitch from the effort to not put them on your face. Almost like there was this invisible string that was tying you both together. He swore he saw your eyes sparkle in the low light of the shitty warehouse. And he was captivated by the purple glow that would take over you, the way your natural eye colour would blend into it and fade away depending on your emotions.

He felt his heart thunder against his ribs and he cursed inwardly, because Bob could feel that he was falling for you. Already.

“How would you like to die, Bob?”

Fuck John Walker and his nasty little attitude.

Bob and you jumped apart and you whipped your head around to throw another glare at Walker, Bob sulking once again after his comment.

If looks could kill, Bob was so sure Walker would be so dead right now. But also, your annoyed face was kinda hot, he thought. Bob felt his cheeks warm up at that and he bit his tongue to calm himself down.

“Alright, Ghost lady”, Yelena called out.

“Ava.”

“Sure, whatever. I don't care. We need to help you phase through these walls so you can open the door.”

“She already tried”, Walker said.

“I know she did, but we haven't tried shutting down the sound barrier. They built it just for her. It has to be an independent power source”, Yelena instructed and started looking around for any panel that had the controls to the sound barrier.

Bob looked around aimlessly and you grabbed his forearm, suddenly feeling brave enough to touch him, “Come on, let's go”, you told him while pulling him away in the opposite direction with you.

Bob stared at you in shock but he let you manhandle him, even though he was several pounds heavier, taller and stronger than you, “What exactly are we looking for?”

"For-" "We're looking for, not stupid questions, Bob", Walker interrupted you once again.

"I will make sure you don't leave this place alive, John", you threatened him and dragged Bob along, taking his help to move the boxes and touching the walls to look for any clues.

"I think I found it. Come here", Yelena called out and you made your way over to her, gathering around a protruding panel that was barely visible against the red light.

"Alright, I can override this", you offered and braced yourself to use your magic against it when suddenly--

"On your left!", Walker warned you barely in time, you felt hands pull you out of the way before Walker rammed into the panel with his shield, breaking the panel open.

You stared at him with your mouth open, "Not a single, original, bone in your body, huh?", you spit at him before the hands on your elbows gently pulled you away.

It was then, that you turned around to see who it was.

Bob. His warm yet huge hands engulfed your elbow completely. Your stomach fluttered.

He looked at you with his gentle eyes before slowly releasing your arm, "I-I'm sorry."

You just stared at him and he averted his eyes shyly.

"Well, that works."

"I hope."

A muffled sound rang in the room, signaling that the sound barrier was broken.

"Go, go, go go go", Yelena instructed Ava, who activated her helmet and successfully phased through the door.

The timer was ticking.

15 seconds till you're all burned alive.

"You think she's coming back?", Bob's scratchy voice asked in worry.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

10 seconds.

"Should have seen this coming. I'm sorry", Yelena muttered lowly.

You felt your stomach lurch at the fact that Ava had really left you all behind to die.

"She left us", you whispered, your throat closing up with the anxiety clouded in your lungs. You didn't even get to say goodbye to Bucky or Sam. They don't even know where you are.

5 seconds.

The room got hotter. You felt beads of sweat roll down your temple and neck, your breathing laboured. Hot puffs of air were hitting you constantly, your eyes burning with the heat and the unshed tears pooling in them. Your body shook with the need to release the pent up frustration but the panic clawing up your throat, and the darkest parts of your mind whispering that you deserved this, made you stand helplessly.

3 seconds.

You said a silent goodbye to your small family--to Bucky, Sam, Joaquin and Isaiah. To Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and Morgan, and closed your eyes in resignation, your luck had finally run out.

At least you'd reunite with your dad, Tony, Nat and Steve--the thought comforting you in a bitter-sweet manner.

The doors suddenly opened.

Your eyes snapped open before someone grabbed your hand and pulled along, running towards the door.

The moment you stepped outside the threshold, there was a loud blast, the entire room lighting up in red, hot, tendrils of fire and throwing you all against the stone walls. Some of the hot smoke and puffs of fire licked your skin, your head smacking against the rough stone, causing you to pass out promptly.

Your hand was still clasped tightly by someone.

Chapter 3

-

AN: WOOO this was big one!! hope you all liked this! please let me know your thoughts <3

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sorry if I forgot someone/you didn’t get tagged! reply if you wanna be removed from the taglist!

[fizzy-stars]

GHOSTY BOI sketch then a refrence why am I like this...

[theoneinashes]

Gambit Theory

So it's 2am in the morning for me but I need to get this theory written down somewhere before I forget it.

What if Gambit wasn't born in the void like he implied but was sent there by the TVA after his brain surgery?

Cause the man got a lobotomy to reduce his power level and get his powers under control, right? Brain surgeries can cause memory loss. So the TVA could have pruned him before he could wake up in his home timeline or while he was awake but still in that limbo of not remembering what was going on

I don't know if any of this makes any sense, but the brain worms are screaming and I need sleep.

[mwagneto]

wait omg he's wearing the same shirt in all of these and we know that one^ is from episode 5 so does that mean the other 2 are as well....... we're gonna get to see them go to whatever that rainbow market thing is this week.............

[acedavestrider]

love and light but if you think youre going to have any kind of meaningful political discourse about the united states election with random hyper online people on the no nuance piss on the poor infinite chocolate website then youre out of your mind

[tojisbbg]

gang baby

❝she told you she celibate, but she told me i can nail her shit!❞

♡ sylus, caleb, rafayel, zayne, xavier ♡

sypnosis: you're just a girl. yeah, you can't decide between five hot LI's presented to you in the popular otome game, love and deepspace, but that's okay. who said you can't have them all? literally.

wc: 11k (lots of smut beware)

a/n: valentines day special!! guys, don't question it, ok? i wrote this with my whole pussy. ok bai. (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: all lads LI's x fem!reader (yes, you read right), gangbang, slight plot, reader gets transported in lads universe, smut (no details, find out hehe), all acts are consensual, not edited. disclaimer: not based off tomorrow's catch-22!!

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"fuck!" you yelled out in frustration, chucking your phone off your bed as the poor device fell on the floor with a loud thud. you could hear your best friend giggling from your laptop, making you shoot her a sharp glare.

"shut up." you sneer, but it only fueled her laughter more.

"damn, infold really hates you, bro." she pokes further at your miserable failure, making your shoulders slump in defeat as you grumble.

"i can't believe it. i've been grinding for two months straight to save up fifteen thousand diamonds for the valentines day banner! i was sure i'd pull them all, and you're telling me i only got two out of the five?? this is a fucking joke." you ranted, making your friend hum as she understood your anger.

"yeah, i'd be mad as hell too. but hey, at least you got sylus and caleb. just watch the rest on twitter or something." your best friend tried to comfort you, but it only made you pout.

"but i want them all." you sulked, making her roll her eyes.

"you're such a whore." she sighed, making you grin.

"duh, why choose one when i can have them all." you nonchalantly responded.

"yeah, yeah, forgot you had no shame." she shook her head in disbelief.

"man, i don't know what else to do. i literally milked the game dry, there's no other way i can get more diamonds for more pulls before the event ends. this is so unfair." you whined, fingers tangled in your hair.

"you can always-"

"no. i'm not giving those greedy hoes my money." you cut off her suggestion, your tone stern.

you were a poor college student who worked part-time at a stationery supply store (living the aesthetic life while crying over classes and fictional men); money's tight, and you're not about to spend hundreds on this because you know it'd become a horrible habit sooner or later.

despite being broke, your spending habits were outrageous.

"yeah girl, then i don't know what to tell ya. i'm chilling with my rafayel card. oh shit, it's almost three in the morning, bitch. we have class tomorrow, go to sleep." she yawned tiredly.

"you're leaving me just like that? after i went through so much pain and trauma? is this how deep our ten years of friendship runs? just say you hate me and want me to die a slow painful death." you dramatically rambled, making your best friend rub her temple in faux annoyance as she groaned at your stupidity.

"when i see you tomorrow, i'm gonna slap you. goodnight, hoe." with that, she hung up.

you closed the lid of your laptop and placed it on charge, stretching before standing up to go pick up your phone. you noticed the small cracks on your screen as you walked back to your bed.

you unlocked your phone, noticing how the lads server kicked you out. you exited the app, clicking on it again as you were met with caleb's face.

so l-long for longe-ge-... before fa-fa...dust

so long for-for-.... fading-fa..-dus..

so-so...lo...ng-..fading...

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the app glitch horribly, the audio was choppy and produced crackling noises. the graphics were disoriented and there was a pop-up notification saying you needed to upgrade your memory.

you could feel your irritation rise once again, getting tired of this shit as you decided to deal with it tomorrow or something. however, every time you tried to exit the app, it wouldn't let you.

your phone literally froze.

"great. just fucking great." you sarcastically murmured.

not only did you not get the limited cards you wanted, you were broke (in the real world and in lads), you're screwed for your morning classes and your phone is currently on its last breath.

also, you were hungry as fuck right now, craving for some five guys.

"fuck this." you sighed in defeat, settling your phone next to you before laying down to sleep. you figured that eventually your phone would turn off once the battery died, so until then you just turned to the other side and ignored the device.

soon enough, fatigue took over your body as you were slipping away into a deep slumber.

unaware, your phone screen turned off momentarily, before flickering on once again as the screen crackled and glitched before stopping.

data retrieval complete, memory upgrade...

successful.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

you stirred in your sleep, eyebrows pinched together as you felt a cold breeze run across the bare skin of your thighs and arms.

nonetheless, you don't remember leaving your window open, it was the middle of february. you groaned, eyes still shut tight as your hand reached down, trying to locate your blanket.

"comfortable, sweetie?" you heard an oddly familiar, deep voice suddenly speak.

did someone break into your house? and why the hell did your mattress feel so hard and cold?

your eyes shot open, adjusting your blurry vision as you realized you were not in your bedroom. you were laying on the cold, dirt ground and it made you panic.

you helplessly sat up and noticed the long pair of legs in front of your body, making you look up as you saw the towering figure of a man. the night sky was dark, making it hard for you to make out his face.

"who are you? and what the hell am i doing out here?" you asked, but your voice barely came out as a whisper.

a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, before he bent down to come eye-level with you. as soon as you met the bright, ruby red orbs of his foxy eyes; your jaw dropped in horror.

no. fucking. way.

"shouldn't i be the one asking you those questions, sweetie?" sylus smirked, head tilting as he keenly watched your facial expressions.

"you're not real. i'm dreaming, yeah, just a dream that feels too real." you blurt out, a breathy laugh scratching your dry throat, trying to calm yourself from freaking out as your heart leaped to your chest when he directly looked at you.

"a dream, you say? hmph, you're a strange one." he shook his head before grabbing your wrist, bringing your palm to his lips. the warmth of his rough hands, which were definitely double the size of yours, made you shiver due to the contrast of your cold ones. he bit the side of your palm before gently sucking on it, making you jolt from the sudden sensation.

sylus watched you with pure amusement glinting in his eyes.

"you're like a scared little kitten, so expressive." sylus commented, making you swallow harshly.

well, this definitely was not a dream, thanks to sylus's help for that confirmation.

but the question was.... how the hell did you end up here?

suddenly, there was rustling in the distance, making his eyes twitch as he became alert. sylus slightly shifted closer to you, now scanning the area for the intruder.

"miss bodyguard?" with a dramatic gasp, you heard rushed footsteps approach you. it was hard to miss the hues of indigo, pinks and blues in his eyes along with the striking dusky purple hair that was a little more visible thanks to the moonlight.

"r...rafayel?" it felt odd saying his name out loud, it almost made you feel a little schizophrenic.

just a bit.

"duh, who else would it be? what are you doing here in the N-109 zone at this hour. also, the hell are you wearing? so not creative or fashionable." rafayel questioned, of course, not forgetting to throw in his snarky little insults along with it.

"what's wrong with what i'm wearing?" you glared at him.

"it's the middle of february and you're dressed like it's a hundred degrees outside." the lemurian smirked down at you.

you cursed at yourself for going to bed in shorts and a thin shirt. well, to be fair, it's a cute snoopy set. also, who in the hell could've predicted this to happen!?

"she wanted to have a little sleepover with the wanderers that lurk around here." the dragon teased, making your face heat up.

"i did not." you mumbled under your breath.

"uh-huh, you're not really in the position to defend that claim." rafayel egged further.

"whatever, what are you doing here? you usually don't go out of your way to come to the N-109 zone." you tried to change the subject, remembering from his anecdotes that he usually has third party people as his "networks" to gain intel.

"just some business you shouldn't sweat your pretty little head over, cutie. but, you know, we should really talk about what your business is with the leader of onychinus." he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes flickering between you and sylus.

"it's nothing, uh, i don't even know him." you chuckled nervously, making sylus look at you with a sharp look.

"is that so, kitten? you wound me. and here i thought we had something more than just... acquaintances. i guess those nights of naughty touches, kisses and naked glances mean nothing to you, right?" sylus shamelessly bullet-pointed, his tone dropping an octave lower as your cheeks grew warm.

on the other hand, rafayel's eyes widened at the revelation.

"you fucked the leader of onychinus?! woah, woah, woah, pause. what about everything that happened between us?? we had sex in my bathtub, the hotel and don't forget-" he was flabbergasted, only to be cut off by sylus.

"you were messing around with this half-baked fish, sweetie? i'm disappointed in your taste. if you planned on two-timing, you could've selected a better opponent for me. this is just... offensive." he snarked, his red eyes beaming with irritation as he looked at rafayel, who's face grew dark from his brash words.

"what did you say to me, you fucking crow? half-baked fish? i'm the god of tides, a majestic lemurian. you dare to speak to me like that?" rafayel's voice became husky, languid footsteps towards the other man.

"h-hey, hey, let's all calm down. there's a very logical and reasonable explanation, i swear." you tried to mediate between them, but it didn't seem like they planned on giving a flying shit about what you had to say any time soon.

"y/n? there you are. i've been blowin' up your phone for hours. thought a wanderer got to you and i got worried about how i'd pay the rent by myself." xavier walked from the shadows, his words laced with a gentle joke as he approached you and the other two men.

holy fuck, this was not good.

"and who are you guys?" the ash-blonde male asked, eyes narrowing before looking down at you.

"xavier." you meeked, not even knowing what to say anymore.

"why are you seeing other guys, y/n? am i not enough? you know i don't like it when you hide things from me. i thought you learned your lesson after i punished you for choosing lumiere over me." xavier now towered over you, his voice laced with envy as you gulped.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

"xavier, i promise i can explain. this is all just a-" you tried to somehow pull an excuse out of your ass, but your brain was fogging up.

"pipsqueak?"

"y/n? what an odd place to be at during such an odd hour, you left your patient copy in my office."

two other figures emerged from the sides, making your eyes close in disbelief, wishing that you could somehow disappear from the face of earth right now.

why the fuck are they all here.

at the same time.

"you've got to be kidding me." you covered your face with the palm of your hands.

"caleb? i thought you were dead." zayne spoke in a monotone, glancing at his childhood friend.

"wow, i missed you too, zayne." caleb rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words. however, the small spark of tension barely lasted before caleb looked back at you.

"care to explain why you're in such a dangerous zone at this time? you know you can't hide from me, pipsqueak. what connections do you have here? who are you seeing? was locking you up in the attic not enough for you?" caleb lectured, his voice gruff before zayne decided to add on to the fire.

"you're utterly reckless, your heart condition isn't getting any better." zayned pushed the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

all five on them now circled you, bickering and arguing with each other along with bombarding you with questions. you balled your fists in annoyance and frustration.

"shut up! oh my fucking god, i don't know, okay?! i don't know how i ended up here, so stop asking me. fuckin' hell, i can't even get a moment to breathe or think because all of you little shits won't shut up for a second!" you snapped as you stood up, making all of them look at you with surprised eyes.

you gulped, feeling a little cornered as you have five insanely tall, broad and buff men look down at you; like helpless prey.

caleb was the first person to break the momentary silence, grabbing your arm to pull you towards him.

"let's go home, pipsqueak. i'll cook your favorite tonight since it's valentines day." he smiled, only for your other arm to be tugged backwards as you yelped.

"home? her home is with me, we're roommates. i think you got the wrong person." xavier calmly replied, but his words were laced with venom.

"she's going nowhere with either of you. she's my bodyguard and i need her to come back with me to my studio. y'know, in case some scary wanderers are lurkin' around." rafayel pushed xavier to the side, intertwining his fingers with yours before giving you a charming smile as he attempted to walk off; only to bump into someone.

"i don't think so. she's been out here for so long, i might need to give her an exam to make sure she's okay." zayne cleared his throat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

you felt like you were the rope being tugged in tug-of-war. sylus deeply sighed at the situation and before you knew it; in one smooth swoop you were now in the strong arms of the leader of onychinus.

"what fools. she's in the N-109 zone for a reason. for me, of course. come on, sweetie, you must be freezing. let's go inside." sylus look down at you with a gentle smile playing on his lips.

you groaned, squirming out of his hold as sylus let you, watching you get back on your feet.

"this is ridiculous! you all are acting like a bunch of kids, fighting over me like i'm some kind of toy. none of you own me!" you stood your ground.

"fine, then why don't you choose?" sylus scoffed, crossing his arms. you grew quiet, looking at each of them before averting your gaze to the ground.

"i... i can't." you whispered.

"you can't? or you don't want to?" xavier snickered.

"you're the one who's been toying with us. we deserve an explanation, no?" rafayel grinned.

"explanations are too time-consuming, actions speak louder than words. so, how are you gonna fix it, y/n?" hazel eyes peered at you with intensity through the glass lenses.

oh, you're so fucked.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

everything happened so fast, you didn't know who swiped your panties off or unclasped your bra.

you felt betrayed at how they evilly plotted against you, telepathically agreeing to punish you for your unfaithfulness. what happened to hating each other? so, here you were now, splayed on the soft mattress in sylus's room; like art on a display.

they drank in the sight of you, perky tits spilled out as the smooth glaze of your skin glimmered under the dim lighting of the room. their eyes were full of hunger, eye-fucking you as you grew shy under their intense gazes.

"s-stop staring at me like that." you whined, looking away as your face reddened at the attention.

you felt someone stroking your thighs, making you shudder as you looked in front of you, seeing caleb gripping the supple fat of your plush thighs.

"never knew you were such a dirty little slut, princess. all these years of knowing you... and to think you were capable of this? how naughty." caleb smirked, prying your thighs open as you gasped.

but, your lips would soon be sealed with zaynes as he kissed you roughly. his pillow-soft lips molded with yours, the smacking sound of saliva filled the room. a big, veiny hand came up to cup your cheek gently as he slid his tongue inside your mouth, licking the wet muscle before sucking it.

caleb used his thumb to spread your soaked folds apart, watching the lewd string of your arousal connect them both. your clit was puffy from being neglected, a sheen of wetness covering your cunt; making his mouth salivate. he leaned down, mouth hovering above your pussy.

"fuckin' beautiful." caleb swore under his breath, the warm air fanning above your aching cunt, giving you goosebumps. you moaned into zayne's mouth, feeling caleb's warm and wet tongue lick a fat stripe up your cunt.

"hope you didn't forget about us, cutie." rafayel pouted, licking at your nipple before wrapping his lips on the swollen pebble. sylus soon followed his footsteps, greedily kneading at your other tit before leaning down and pressing open-mouthed kisses on the soft mound.

meanwhile, xavier's lips were buried in your neck as he punished you with licks and bites on the expanse of your unmarked flesh.

"ngh~ xavier!" you whimpered against zayne's lips, the doctor now nibbling on your bottom lip.

he licked the side of your neck before softly clamping his teeth down, suckling and leaving a purplish bruise. as a soothing apology, xavier kitten-licked the fresh mark before moving down to your collarbone with wet kisses.

caleb continued to lap at your wet cunt, his saliva mixed with your juices dripped down his chin. the tip of his tongue circled your clit before suckling on it, making your legs tremble as a moan ripped out of your throat as you tried to close your legs.

"f-fuck.. hnghh.." you cried out, feeling him plant his palms on your inner thighs, forcing you to keep them open. caleb peered up at you from between your thighs, amethyst eyes glaring at you as his lips were glossy.

"don't interrupt me when i'm eating." he huskily spoke before slapping your dripping pussy, producing a wet 'pap!' noise. you yelped because of your increased sensitivity, not having enough time to recover before he dove back in.

with one last wet smooch, zayne released your lips before crawling down right next to his childhood friend. they exchanged a quick look, a mischievous smirk dancing on the colonel's lips.

"oh? was my tongue not enough for you, princess?" he lowly spoke, pinching your inner thigh as you bit your bottom lips.

"ahh... need z-zayne to help... please?" you begged, making him scoff. zayne couldn't help but grin with pride, your words stroking his ego a little.

"you heard her, move." zayne pushed caleb a little to squeeze himself between your legs, taking off his glasses before throwing them to the side. caleb, utterly betrayed, seethed with jealousy.

"so that's how you wanna play? fine." caleb accepted it as a challenge, but of course, he won't let neither of you get the last word.

zayne ignored his little childish outburst, digging in as his scarred hands rested on your lower stomach before his fingers stroked the expanse of it, gently moving to the side to hold your hips; caressing your smooth skin while tracing the faint stretch marks decorating it.

your puffy clit peaked out of your wet slit, making zayne lean down to press a wet smooch on it. you shuddered, mouth gaping open as your breathing quickened. zayne dragged his tongue up your sopping folds slow and languidly, the tip of his tongue digging into your wet pussy. the difference in how zayne and caleb ate you out was clear. caleb liked to eat your honeyed cunt like a starved dog, as if it was his last meal; unlike zayne, who liked to take his time and savor the taste of your sweet cunt.

"mhmmm.... zaynee~" you slurred his name, drunk in pleasure as he took his time to lap at your pussy, suckling and nibbling on your clit. amethyst eyes bore into the back of zayne's head, fuming with anger and envy.

caleb's fingers dug into your thighs, making you wince in pain but soon it deliciously simmered into the pleasure you were getting from zayne's tongue. the colonel snickered, watching how slick your pussy was from saliva and your juices, deciding to toy with you as revenge.

you felt the pads of caleb's middle and ring finger brush against your hole, probing the tight opening. you groan, feeling him push in both fingers at once.

"c-caleb!" you stuttered out, feeling him scissor his fingers in and out of your tight hole; the thickness and length of his digits rubbing you in all the right places.

suddenly, xavier roughly grabbed your jaw, squishing your chubby cheeks in his hands; forcing you to look at him. the expression on his face was dark, eyes clouded with lust and possessiveness.

"you seem to be enjoying yourself, dirty girl. you like having four other guys touch you, hm? this mouth is fucking filthy, maybe i should clean it, yeah?" he smirked, blue eyes sharply peering down at you.

"x-xav.." you were cut off by his grip tightening just a little more, making you wince.

"shhh... not another word, my dumb little girl. now i just wanna hear you gagging on my cock, 'kay?" xavier unbuckled his belt before unzipping his pants. he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, making his hard cock spring against his abs, your eyes widening at the sight.

his dick didn't have a lot of girth, but fuck it was long. xavier tapped the blush pink tip of his leaky cock on your lips, spreading his precum all over them like it was your own personal gloss. his thumb rested on your chin before pulling it down, forcing your mouth to open as he slid his cock in; the ash-blonde male let out a shaky sigh.

both sylus and rafayel continued to paw at your tits, biting and sucking on your nipples. with a lewd 'pop!', they released your swollen bud, eyeing their shared masterpiece as your tits were littered with hickies and trails of saliva.

"why don't you return the favor, sweetie? these cute little hands of yours seem empty." sylus gives you a toothy grin, bringing your hand to the tent forming on his pants, making you palm him through them. a deep groan escaped his lips as your hand stroked him through the rough fabric of his leather pants.

rafayel now sat on his knees by your other side, grabbing your wrist before bringing it up to his lips. he kissed the soft, warm flesh of your wrist; inhaling the scent of your skin as he let out a moan.

"you smell so fucking good. god, it's driving me insane." he breathed out, licking your pulse point before gently biting down on it. rafayel continued to sniff and kiss your wrist, using his other free hand to undo his pants and pull his aching cock out; stroking it as it throbbed in his palms. he teased his slit, spreading the sticky precum all over the tip.

your eager hands fumbled with sylus's belt as you tried to undo it, a little difficult because your mouth was still full of xavier's cock and forced you to maintain eye contact with him; as if looking at anyone else in this room would make his existence perish. but, sylus decided to be kind enough and help you because who is he to deny you?

you dug your hand inside his boxers, eyes widening as you realized that you couldn't even fully grasp his dick. he was fucking hung, thick and long, not lacking in any area. a guttural moan escaped his lips, feeling your soft fingers caressing his balls.

you took out his cock from the confinement of his boxers, stroking the shaft of it as your fingers teased the throbbing vein that ran on the underside curve of his dick. sylus threw his head back in pleasure, a soft whimper heard as his chest heaved.

"feels so fuckin' good, sweetie." he praised, your hand still lazily moving up and down his thick meat.

you felt the tip of zayne's nose nudging your clit, providing more stimulation as he continued his assault on your sopping wet cunt; his tongue flicking at a leisurely pace between your folds. caleb matched the rhythm of zayne's tongue, finger-fucking you with deep and hard strokes.

your moans were muffled by xavier's cock as he drove his hips into your mouth; your cheeks hollowing as you tried to not graze the skin of his dick with your teeth. you could hear the soft grunts and whimpers falling from his lips, eyes closed in bliss as he still had your cheeks firmly squished between his fingers.

"fuck yeah... you were made for this, takin' my cock so well." xavier breathed out, slender fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled your head closer.

you could feel the pressure of zaynes tongue slurping your clit along with caleb's fingers abusing your cervix collide. the familiar knot began to settle in your lower stomach, making your thighs tremble as your eyes screwed shut, toes curling in pleasure.

caleb could feel your walls contracting, you were definitely close and as much as he would love to see you cream all over his fingers; you've been cruelly unfair to him.

xavier lazily opened his eyes, cerulean orbs looking down at you half-lidded. he scoffed, watching your face flush as saliva trickled down the corner of your mouth. you opened your eyes briefly, he watched as they rolled back from the pleasure you were recieving from your childhood friends.

he pulled his cock out of your mouth, glaring down at you.

"nghhh~ p-please..!" you mumbled against his tip, crying out in pleasure as you tried to kick your leg forward to get away from the two men ravaging your pussy. however, both caleb and zayne pinned your legs down.

"focus on me." xavier scowled, and in one swift and hard thrust, his cock slid down your throat as far as you could take him. your eyes blew wide open, as you gagged on his dick. he was being nice earlier, but now you really pissed him off.

you had the nerve to think about those two when he was being kind enough to rinse that dirty mouth of yours with his cock?

"fuckin' ungrateful brat, ignoring me when i'm stuffing this filthy mouth full of my dick." he panted, fucking your face as tears streamed down your face and drool dripped down your chin.

zayne and caleb continued their combined attack, making you scream as your felt zayne sucking on your clit harder while caleb's fingers continued to rub against your walls at a faster pace.

suddenly, all sensation was lost as caleb pulled out his fingers while simultaneously grabbing onto the back of zayne's head with his free hand; yanking his hair back to unlatch his mouth from your weeping cunt. your eyes widened as tears streamed down your face, your hole pulsating at the feeling of nothing.

"only good girls get to cum." caleb darkly chuckled, zayne wincing in slight pain as he swatted the hand that yanked his hair.

"do that again and i'll fucking kill you." zayne murmured, making caleb roll his eyes.

"mmphh...!" your cries were muffled as xavier continued to use your throat as his personal fuckhole. he continued to shove his dick deeper, a small bulge forming on your throat as he pressed against it.

"there we go." xavier grinned sadistically, continuing to chase his high.

"h-hahhh... fuck, gonna cum." he panted, face flushing as he threw his head back, driving his hips forward. you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you towards his lower stomach; shoving his cock deep in your throat one last time as your nose was buried in his soft pubes.

"shit.. shit- hnghh... take it- fuck, take it all." xavier moaned, his thick cum painting your throat as he came so much. your mouth became overloaded with his cum, leaking through the corner of your lips as you tried to swallow as much as you could. he pulled out, watching your gasp for air as you coughed.

"what do you say, slut?" he darkly asked.

"t-thank you." you breathed out, voice croaking.

"good girl." xavier smiled wickedly, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, your tongue peeking out to lick it.

with the intense throat-fucking session with xavier and the cruel denial of your orgasm, you forgot about sylus who was still painfully hard in your hand.

"come on, sweetie, i know you could do better. want some help? yes, no, maybe so?" sylus whispered huskily, leaning down to bite your ear before kissing your temple.

"s-sorry.." you sniffled, still extremely sensitive.

"poor baby, don't cry. i'll help you." he cooed, grabbing your hand before spitting on it. the warm feeling of his spit made you shiver, he brought your hand to his cock; guiding you as you used your spit coated hand to grab his dick again.

this time, his hand firmly stayed on yours, tightening the grip. the silver haired male moaned, moving your joined hands up and down his throbbing cock; fucking your wet fist.

"hnghh... yeah, f-fuck..." sylus panted, thrusting his hips into the makeshift hole he made using your hand. his foxy eyes narrowed, bright ruby orbs rolling back as he rasped out swears from the absolute pleasure he was feeling.

rafayel hovered above your naked torso, his pretty cock resting on the valley between your tits. he grabbed his dick, giving it a few strokes, whimpering at his own touch before looking down at you.

"you're so beautiful." the lemurian whispered through labored breaths, face flushed as his mixed indigo eyes peeked at you through a half-lidded lust-filled stare.

rafayel swallowed harshly, guiding the tip of his leaky cock to your nipple; circling the hard bud as his precum coated it. your breath hitched, watching him use his hard cock to paint streaks of his precum all over the expanse of your hickey-littered chest.

he then spat on his hand, rubbing his spit all over his dick to lubricate it before settling it between your soft tits. using both of his hands, he squished your tits together to squeeze his warm cock between them. the whimper leaving his mouth was almost embarrassing from how loud and needy it was.

without a second more of hesitation, rafayel began to rut his hips forward, thrusting between your tits. he stroked your nipples before using his thumb and index finger, pinching the swollen buds and rolling them between his fingers.

"ahhh~ rafayel! f-feels good...!" you moaned, watching the blush pink tip of his cock peek through your cleavage every time he motioned his hips forward.

"hnghh... love your tits so much, cutie. so soft... so tasty and cute." he breathes out a small chuckled, eyebrows pinched in pleasure as he continued to thrust his cock between your boobs. his precum coated the valley of your tits, making it easier for him to slide between them.

while he continued his ministrations of using your titties to fuck himself, you focused on making sylus cum. you increased the pace of your hands, feeling his hand tightening the grip on yours, the vein on his cock pulsating as frequent deep whimpers left his lips. your thumb caught his slit, teasing it as he could feel his balls tighten.

"hmm... gonna make me cum, kitten." he groans, continuing to pump his cock using your hand until you felt the warm, thick wads of his cum dribble down your fingers. his hands slightly trembled, chest heaving as he tried to compose himself.

"fuck, that was... so hot." sylus chuckled, releasing your hand as he watched you bring your cum covered fingers to your mouth; licking his release as you hummed in approval.

he could feel himself get instantly hard again from such an erotic sight.

"you're mean, darling." he shook his head, making you grin.

you broke away your gaze from sylus, watching rafayel fall apart as he desperately groped your tits.

"h-hahhh... need y..-your help, cutie! please?" he pathetically begged, swallowing harshly as his hips stuttered. rafayel grabbed your wrist once more, smelling your scent and licking your flesh; groaning at how intoxicated you made him feel. the tip of his tongue traced your fingers before encasing them with his soft lips, sucking and biting on your digits; indigo eyes looking at you with a pleading look.

you smirked, knowing that it'd be easy to tease him. you were basically at all of their mercy, but knowing you still had just a little bit of power against him at least; it made your heart beat in your pussy.

"you poor thing, need my help?" you pouted, faux sympathy written all over your face. the others watched in amusement and rafayel's horny-fucked brain couldn't even have the dignity to feel embarrassed.

"p-please... promise i'll be good, so good." he breathed out and you smiled in satisfaction, sitting up before pushing him back. rafayel now sat on the mattress, hungry eyes watching you sit back on your knees.

you leaned down, squishing his cock between your tits before sliding them up and down. rafayel's eyes screwed shut in pleasure, countless of goans and whimpers slipping out of his tongue; showering you endlessly with praise.

"y-yeah cutie, just like that... nghhh~ gonna make me cum." rafayel shamelessly moaned, mouth gape open as his breathing was uneven. you stuck your tongue out, lapping at his tip before wrapping your lips around it; suckling on it as if it was a lollipop.

you rubbed your tits together on his shaft, using your mouth to suck the rest. your drool trickled down from his swollen tip to the squishy tight slit created by your tits; making his cock slide with ease. the sounds produced was obscene, shlick shlick shlick. rafayel could feel his body tremble in pleasure, stroking your hair as his balls twitched.

"gonna cum! h-hahhh... p-please, cutie!" his lips were swollen from how much he bit them. soon enough, his hot cum was painting your tits, dripping down your nipples as his cock throbbed.

"fuck.." rafayel sighed, stroking your cheek as he glanced at what he did.

mentally clicking a picture to remember for the rest of his life when he fucks his fist to the thought of you.

"better?" you innocently batted your eyelashes, looking up at him with a dazed expression.

"you little minx." his breath hitched as you turned your face to the side, catching his thumb between your lips to give it a small suck before biting it playfully.

"you seem to be enjoying yourself a little too much, brat." you heard a daring voice break the moment, looking up to see a mean caleb glowering down at you.

you swallowed harshly, looking at rafayel for some help, but the cheeky lemurian only grinned at you; eyes twinkling with trouble as he moved away.

"you like being used like this, don't you? have you forgotten who's in control here?" now, xavier came into view as he scoffed, taking in your pitiful state.

"i think it's time that you learn your place." caleb suddenly pushed you towards the ash-blonde haired male, making you gasp as you were now sitting on his waist; hands pressed against his bare chest. you could feel the curve of xavier's hard cock press against your ass, making you unknowingly grind against the throbbing length of it to seek for some friction.

"tch, look at you. you're like a fuckin' bitch in heat." xavier snickers, holding down your hips with a bruising grip, making you wince. you felt the tip of his dick slip between your wet folds, his hands maneuvering your hips to help you glide on him. a breathy whimper leaves your lips, feeling his sticky tip caress your achy clit.

you hear the clinking sound of caleb's belt being undone and in what felt like mere seconds; you could feel his warm body heat radiating behind you. his lips grazed your nape, the tip of his nose gliding on your skin. he left wet kisses all over your neck and shoulder, trailing down the deep passage of your spine; making you arch forwards from your increased sensitivity.

xavier on the other hand fondled your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples. his fingers moved down, brushing against your hips. suddenly, you felt his tip prodding your tight hole, making you gulp.

they were all so fucking big and thick, you were wondering how you'd take them all. god, you couldn't even use process of elimination to figure out who'd be less painful to take in.

however, all that thinking flew straight out of your ears as xavier planted his feet on the mattress; harshly thrusting upwards into you. a croaky moan ripped out of your throat, your head lolling back to caleb's chest as you breathed heavy.

although xavier wasn't that thick, he was long as fuck; he couldn't even bottom out fully inside your cunt. you could feel his tip kissing your cervix. while caleb continued to place bite marks and lick at his work, xavier paid no mind to his counterpart; fucking you at a brutal pace.

"hnghh~ a-aahh... xav! w-wait!" you tried to slow him down, but that only made him go faster. he grabbed your hands which were resting on his lower stomach, pulling you forwards as you fell on his chest; away from caleb's touch.

the colonel scowled at the loss of your skin, glaring at the ash-blonde male in front of him. xavier didn't care, his hand finding purchase to the supple fatty flesh on your ass, spanking you hard as you yelped in pain and pleasure. your eyes squeezed shut, trying to form coherent words.

"you know i hate it when you don't look at me while i'm fucking you. open your eyes, y/n." he tapped your face, forcing you to look down at him. you bit your lips, trying to prevent another moan from flying out of your mouth, feeling xavier's cock rub your wet velvety walls just right.

his tip continued to bruise your cervix, his thrusts were deep and hard as he made sure you felt every inch of him in you. a ring of cream began to form at the base of his shaft, your juices dripping down to coat his heavy balls as you felt your thighs burning.

"hope you didn't forget about me, princess." caleb whispered, hovering behind you as you felt him grope your ass cheek. your eyes widened as you felt him spread them, his index finger gently grazing your other untouched tight hole.

"nghh.. wait, caleb! h-hahhh, never did it there before." you confessed, making him chuckle.

"well then, i'm glad to be your first here. don't worry, i'll make sure you're ready for me." caleb's words did seem genuine but rather because of the fact that he was about to touch you and feel you somewhere no one ever has.

you nodded at his words, too fucked out to even care about anything else. you were more focused on cumming, your cunt puffy and weeping from being neglected the last time your orgasm was denied; thanks to caleb.

so, you definitely didn't wanna get on his bad side again.

caleb spat on his fingers, bring it down to your ass before spreading the sticky spit on your hole. you soon felt his wet digit push through the tight ring of muscle, making you wince in pain as you breathed heavily.

"f-fuck... hurts.." you whined, but it would soon dissipate as xavier continued to drill into your pussy, distracting you from the pain of having caleb's finger in your ass.

it took some time but eventually the colonel was able to finger-fuck your ass with two of his fingers, meanwhile, xavier thrusted up into your leaky pussy that sheathed his throbbing cock. the ash-blonde haired male rubbed your clit to provide some more stimulation, your body trembling once you felt caleb withdrawing his fingers from inside you.

caleb sat on his knees, spreading your ass once more before leaning in, the tip of his tongue dragging from where you and xavier were connected; all the way up to your ass hole.

"ah! caleb!" you cried out, feeling him land a glob of spit on the tight hole before pulling away. caleb grabbed the base of his cock, his tip was a reddish-purple; angrily weeping precum as he stroked himself a few times. you could hear him groan behind you before feeling his wet tip squish against your hole.

"c'mere." caleb commanded, a hand coming down to gently grab your jaw, pulling you back to him. he tilts your head up, making you look into his eyes; leaning down to press his lips on yours in a searing kiss.

that's when you felt the burning stretch of his fat tip pushing past the tight ring of muscle in your ass, a pained cry leaving your lips, only to be muffled as he swallowed it; not letting go of your lips. tears pricked your eyes, feeling him slowly feed his cock into your tight ass, inch by inch.

the kiss with caleb was rough and messy, full of tongue and spit. the wet smacking sound of his lips clashing with yours as he drinks in your moans was so erotic. as his cock was now thrusted deep in your ass, he was kind enough to let you adjust to his size. his hand still firmly grabbing your jaw in place to not break away from the kiss while the other played with your tits.

meanwhile, xavier continued to give you nice slow and soft thrusts in your cunt, paying close attention to stimulate your clit. you were so full of both of their cocks, your mind was blank.

all you thought of was dick, dick, dick.

it was embarrassing and greedy, how full they made you feel, how good the burn felt as they both stretched out your holes.

it was definitely a pornographic sight.

as you grew used to having both of them inside you, caleb was the first to quicken his pace, pistoning his hips into you as his cock began to rub your walls. following in suit, xavier tried to match his rhythm, fucking your cunt with more rigor. your mouth gaped wide open, unable to respond to caleb's kiss anymore as you were too cock drunk.

"a-a..ahh! nghh~ feels so good!" you cried out in pleasure, feeling them both rub against the thin barrier that separated the two. you could feel your lower stomach churn in pleasure, your eyes rolling back as you began to drool from the corner of your mouth.

"what a dumb little slut, fucked your brains out already?" you heard xavier darkly chuckle, pinching your clit as you yelped at the sudden sharp sensation.

"p-please... wanna cum so bad! x..-xav.." your throat was parched as you tried to control your breathing, your lower stomach tightening as you could feel the familiar build-up of your orgasm.

"tch, you're moaning his name when i'm stuffing you full of my dick? where are your manners, pipsqueak?" caleb's tone was gravely, glaring at you with a look that could only make your knees grow weak, his grip on your jaw tightening just a little to remind you he was still here; balls deep in you.

"s-sor.. hgnhh.. sorry! please, c..caleb.." you stammered out, feeling the alternating push and withdraw of their cocks syncing together; turning your brain into mush.

displeased with your switch up, xavier yanked you forwards by your arm, squishing your cheeks together.

"you deceitful vixen, running to him when you don't get what you want? i'm the one taking care of this slutty pussy and you have the nerve to beg him? the fuck is wrong with you." xavier seethed with anger, his hips bucking into yours with more intensity; making you wail out in pleasure.

"i'm sor-" you tried to helplessy apologize again, only to be pulled back by caleb; the start of a tug-of-war as if you were a toy.

"don't fucking apologize to him, princess. you're mine, so when i say that you can cum, then you cum." caleb whispered, making you shiver as you sniffled out a cry.

"please.. fuck, please- i can't! t..too much.." you whimpered, making them both scoff.

"you can take it." both caleb and xavier sneered, making you whine.

"ungrateful brat, wanting us both and now you're saying it's too much?" xavier slapped your clit, making you jolt. you felt caleb bite down on your shoulder, the cold metal of his dog tag pressed against your warm, flushed skin.

you felt them twitch inside you, throbbing thick cocks rubbing against your insides. caleb and xavier continued to slide in and out of you, making your body grow hot.

"fuck, fuck, please! s-so close..!" you breathed out, feeling xavier's thrusts grow sloppy as with one final hard thrust; he emptied his balls inside you. his thick, warm cum filled your cunt as you quivered, his hips still rolling back in you.

your head was spinning, both of their scents were intoxicating. their hands were groping, slapping and stroking every bit of skin exposed to their lustful eyes. both caleb and xavier's thrusts held no mercy, battering your cunt and ass as your thighs felt like jelly. you squealed, feeling your walls tightening as you desperately squirmed, trying to lift yourself off and escape.

"where are you going? don't run away, i'm not done yet." caleb yanked you back to him. caleb's grunts and groans got louder by your ear, his arm wrapping around your stomach to hold you down in place; his cock fully in your ass as he shot fat wads of his sticky cum.

before you could process anything, they sadistically exchanged a cruel smirk, pulling out of you as your holes gushed out an obscene amount of their mixed cum.

"n-no! no! hnghh.. w-why.." you sobbed at the loss of contact, the fullness of their cocks gone as your orgasm was destroyed for the second time.

"since we weren't enough, why don't you go ask the others." caleb pushed you to the side, making you collapse on the mattress as tears ran down your cheek.

you looked up and noticed sylus and rafayel looking down at you, an unwavering glint pinned on your ruined form as they waited for your next move. it was humiliating, how you were begging them to let you cum; but it was too much.

you were going insane, needing some relief.

you weakly crawled to sylus and rafayel, sniffling as your body began to shake. your thighs were dripping with xavier and caleb's cum, your messy holes pulsing and aching.

"sy.. raf.. please, make me cum. i-i... i promise i'll be a good girl." you desperately pleaded, fat teardrops running down your flushed cheeks; making them both groan as your pathetic state only made their cocks harden.

"poor little kitten, they were so mean to you, weren't they?" sylus cooed as he wiped your tears away, tone honeyed with gentleness but with an undertone of mischief.

you nodded helplessly, leaning into his touch as you nuzzled your cheeks into his palm. you kissed the inside of his hand, licking the warm and rough skin.

just like a kitten.

sylus grinned at your antics, amused at how compliant you were. however, he wasn't that mean; he'd humor you.

"need us to make her feel better, cutie?" rafayel teasingly spoke, long fingers running across your slit as you whimpered; the tip of his digits circling your clit.

"mmphh, y-yes... please.." you bit down on your lip, tasting the metallic taste of blood.

"alright, sweetie. we'll help you." sylus chortled, leaning against the headboard. he grabbed your hips, spinning you around in one fluid motion, your back now facing him. he then lifted you up before placing you on his waist, as if you weighed nothing.

you yelped as sylus hooked his beefy arms under your thighs, pulling them up to your head; putting you in a mean full nelson. the sudden pressure and stretch made your cunt gush out more of the cum that was fucked into you earlier, soaked pussy lips spread apart as you were now exposed and on display in a very vulnerable position.

"s-sylus!" you shyly meeked, making him hum.

"what? don't be selfish, sweetie. you know the fish is an artist, let him see this masterpiece." sylus bit your earlobe.

rafayel settled between sylus's legs, now in front of you as he shamelessly stared at your messy folds. he salivated as it took everything in him to not just lean down and makeout with your tempting cunt.

"stop lookin'." you whined, feeling how intense his gaze was. however, rafayel just gave you a breathy chuckle.

"why not? she's sooooo pretty." he licked his lips, flashing you a boyish grin, making your heart leap into your throat.

the lemurian lowered his head, pressing gentle kisses on your soft stomach, dragging his lips up your navel until he reached your tits. he sighed in bliss, smoothering his face between your boobs as he kissed and licked the mounds of flesh.

his dick rested on top of your pussy, sticky tip parting your folds as he rutted his hips; sliding the length of his cock against your slick covered cunt. his tip repeatedly nudged your clit, rubbing it as you moaned in bliss from the heavenly contact.

your hand found purchase in his dusky, purple hair; carding your fingers through his soft locks. you tugged on his hair, making him moan as the vibration rumbling from his lips were felt on your nipple as he sucked; making you choke out a moan.

the silver haired male kissed your temple, smiling.

"come on, sweetie, need you to hold your legs up for me so i can take care of you." his voice was groggy, releasing your legs before grabbing your hands to help you lift them as you obeyed.

"there you go, good girl." sylus praised, grabbing the base of his cock, swiping it a few times between your messy folds, nudging his tip on your hole. you moaned at the feel of his cock deliciously rubbing against your aching pussy.

"p-please... nghh- no more teasing." you were breathless, feeling rafayel once again capture your nipple in his mouth, suckling as if his purpose in life was to worship your tits.

"if you say so, sweetie." sylus compliantly shoved his inches in you, feeding your greedy hole his hard dick. your jaw dropped, eyes rolling back as his fat girth stretched your cunt; sliding in with ease because of your arousal along with xavier and caleb's shared cum.

rafayel watched your hole eagerly swallow up sylus's cock, gulping at the sight as his dick was painfully hard; globs of precum dripping onto your clit.

"so tight even after all that? how cute." sylus lets out a huff, slowly moving his hips upwards to give you some slow and deep strokes; tip squishing against your cervix.

"h-hnghh... fuck... feels so good, sy." you moaned, turning your head to the side to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. he happily accepted, sucking on your bottom lip before swiping his tongue against it for permission to explore your mouth.

his hands firmly grabbed your hips before planting his feet on the mattress, grounding both himself and you before pounding upwards into your dripping cunt. your mouth flew open from his sudden shift in pace, and he took that chance to shove his tongue in your mouth; exploring every cavern and crevice. both of your tongues mingled and tangled, sucking and licking as drool trickled down your chin.

"fuck, cutie... you look so hot like this; it's tempting. i can't let the crow have all the fun now, can i?" rafayel's fingers stroked your thigh, leaning down to kiss your plush thighs, gently biting the soft skin.

"ahhh... raf.." you whimpered, biting your lip as you feel his tip poke your ass hole. you released one of your legs, pressing your foot on his chest to stop him.

"hm?" the lemurian tilts his head in confusion at your sudden action, stopping his advances.

"n-not there... need you and sy at the same time.." you licked your dry lips, words barely coming out as a whisper. rafayel's eyes widened at your request, sylus's ruby orbs mirroring the same bewilderment.

"naughty girl, you want us both in this sweet cunt of yours? you think you can handle it?" sylus teased, a cocky smirk painted on his lips.

you nodded frantically, your foot running down rafayel's chest as you looked up at him with a cheeky smile; eyes barely open as you gazed at him with a dazed look.

"i can handle it, p-promise." you assured, making rafayel grin.

"well you heard her, crow. make some space." he grabbed the base of his shaft, now aligning his cock with your hole that was already occupied with sylus's thick cock. the silver haired male scoffed, rolling his eyes before momentarily stopping his thrusts; letting rafayel ease into you.

a screamish-moan ripped out of your throat, your walls clamping instinctively on both of their cocks; both men grunting in response as the space became tighter. your eyes swelled with tears, the salty warm fluid streaming down your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the painful stretch of having two giant cocks lodged in your cunt at the same time.

"shh... there, there, pretty girl. it's okay." rafayel tried to console you, his words barely making it to a full sentence before his voice betrayed him; a strangled whimper slipping off his tongue.

"i gotcha, sweetie." sylus mumbled against the skin of your nape, his hand snaking around your waist, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub soothing circles on the bundle of nerves to distract you.

the both of them allowed you to adjust to their cocks, providing additional stimulation to help you relax so that your walls aren't as tense. rafayel's teeth grazed your nipples, teasing and flicking the pebbled buds while sylus's fingers worked their magic to affectionately pinch and stroke your clit.

"nghh~ feels good... hnnghh- need more." you whined, moving your hips on your own accord, wincing as you could feel both of their dicks rubbing against your velvety wet walls.

"ya sure you're ready, cutie? we have all night." rafayel let out a shaky laugh, half-joking.

"moveee." you bucked your hips, making sylus chuckle.

"someone's impatient, not that i mind." with that being said, sylus once again began to slowly thrust into your pussy. he grunted, feeling his cock graze against rafayel's, the sensation feeling a little weird but he ignored that fact.

rafayel moaned at the sudden friction, his hand wrapping around your calf to push it by your head; mirroring your other leg which you still held up obediently. rafayel leaned closer, pressing against you before latching his lips onto your; kissing you senselessly.

you moaned into his mouth, feeling the both of them pistoning into your tight, dripping hole. rafayel hissed as he felt your fingers tug his hair, angling your jaw to deepend the kiss.

the room was full of wet skin slapping followed by the lewd sound of your pussy gushing out your juices; coating their cocks in your arousal as it dribbled down to their balls. rafayel's lips continued to suck and kiss at your swollen and bitten once; his tongue suckling with yours before pulling away as a string of saliva connected you two.

he pushed himself off of you, bringing the leg he held for you towards him. he kissed your ankle, running the tip of his tongue down to your calf before kitten-biting the flesh of it.

"mmphh... you taste so fucking sweet." rafayel swore under his breath, thrusting his cock deeper into your weeping hole. sylus followed in suit, both of their tips bruising your cervix.

"shit... you're taking us both so well, sweetie." sylus praised, now matching the movement of his fingers that were once leisurely rubbing your clit to the pace of his thrusts.

in seconds, everything shifted.

their gazes darkened, clouded with need and hunger. you squealed, feeling both sylus and rafayel thrusting in and out of your cunt with no mercy as their movement didn't falter.

not once.

they were so perfectly synced together, as if they were one.

"a-ahhhh~... f-fuck! please, please, please! so close... god! i'm gonna cum!" you choked on your tears as you sobbed, the pleasure you were feeling was intense.

your eyes rolled back, toes curled as you were gasping for air. both men grunted and moaned; focusing on chasing their high.

"how bad you want it, kitten?" sylus groaned, fucking his hips upward as you whimpered.

"so bad, fuck, need it so bad!" you desperately answered, convinced that you wouldn't survive another ruined orgasm.

"yeah? ask nicely, where are your manners, cutie?" rafayel snickered, driving his hips into your; pelvis meeting yours with brutal thrusts that made your body jerk.

"h-hahhhh... oh my god...- please, please, please. let me cum? i promise i'll be good, so fuckin' good. please raf... sy... need it so bad." you threw out every last ounce of dignity within yourself to beg them with your last bit of voice.

both men, clearly satisfied with your answer, feed your cunt with their cocks using an unforgiving pace of thrusts. rafayel's hips were a bit sloppier, but they were fast and needy, like he was scared that you'd disappear. in contrast, sylus's pace was slow but his thrusts were hard and deep; making sure his tip met your cervix with every movement of his hips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." the silver haired male let out a guttural moan, eyes screwed shut as he could feel his cock pulsate; vein twitching as blood flowed with adrenaline.

rafayel shamelessly moaned on top of you, panting like a dog as he continued to fuck his dick into your wet hole.

"open your mouth." he demanded and too fucked out to even decipher his intentions, you obeyed. rafayel spat into your mouth, the thick glob of spit coating your tongue before you swallowed it.

"good girl." rafayel grunted, feeling his balls tightening as he was close to cumming as well.

your stomach knotted, the build-up of your orgasm even more stronger as your gummy walls clamped down on their cocks viciously.

"auughh~ i'm cumming! fuck.. hnghh..." you choked out a moan, eyes screwed shut as hot liquid squirted out of your cunt; coating rafayel's lower abdomen. you creamed on their cocks, body twitching as you feel both of them creampie you; shoving their sticky and gooey cum deep into your womb.

your juices and their cum dripped down your thigh, coating sylus's balls as you could hear his breathing become uneven from the aftermath of such intense pleasure. rafayel collapsed on top of you, still mindful to not crush you with his entire weight.

"so tired..." he childishly whined, biting your nipple playfully as you huffed.

"you're heavy, raf, get off." you grumbled, making him pout as he smoothered his face between your boobs once again.

"nah, you're too soft." he argued, making you roll your eyes.

"i feel sticky and gross.." you mumbled, noticing how the room was a bit more quieter. xavier was passed out on the couch and caleb left the room a few minutes ago for whatever reason; zayne watching the whole scene intently from the edge of the bed.

you locked eyes with him, noticing the slight blush on his face. he cleared his throat, looking away.

"perhaps a hot shower might be nice." he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"yeah, it does sound tempting." you hummed.

"need some help, sweetie?" sylus offered, but his tone had a hint of mischief.

"i got it." zayne suddenly spoke up, walking over to where you were sandwhiched between rafayel and sylus. he pushed the groggy lemurian over, making him groan.

"hey! i was comfy." rafayel complained, making the doctor roll his eyes.

"it's my place, surely i know my bathroom better." sylus snickered, making zayne narrow his eyes.

"if i could perfom hundreds of heart surgeries, i'm sure i can figure out how to work your damn shower." zayne snarked back with an equal amount of bite, making the silver haired male smirk.

"touche, she's all yours, doc." sylus chuckled.

zayne sighed, scooping you up in his arms before heading into the bathroom; locking the door behind him.

"you look... fucked." he blurted out, making you laugh at his dry comment.

"wow, thanks, i didn't know." you playfully rolled your eyes, making him crack a small smile.

"that was... intense. after you shower, i could get you some painkillers to help with any soreness. can you stand?" zayne asked with a flicker of concern in his hazel orbs, settling you on your legs and lightly loosening his grip; only for your knees to wobble as you held onto his bicep for support.

"i guess not." he answered his own question, making you chuckle.

"mind helping me out, doc?" you asked, peering up at him with a girly smile. zayne felt his heart skip a beat, heat creeping up to his neck.

it's not like this would be his first time being intimate with you, but you still made him feel incredibly nervous.

"if you insist, then i don't mind." his tone was soft and gentle. you smiled at his agreement, taking off his glasses. you leaned onto the sink for support, watching him undo his tie before unbuttoning his shirt; revealing his chiseled chest.

fuck, his physique was like a greek god.

he undid his belt, zipping down his pants before kicking them off together with his boxers; his cock springing to life as his pinkish tip was a little swollen while dripping with precum. you leaned forwards, now pressed against him as your bare chest rubbed against his.

zayne groaned at the intimate skinship, his cock rubbing against your soft thighs. your hand reached down, grabbing the shaft as you experimentally gave it a few strokes.

"let me take care of you." your voice was a bare whisper, making him shudder. but, to your surprise, he shook his head.

"no, you don't have to do this for me, i'll get myself off or something. just ignore it, okay?" zayne tried to convince you, but it only made you frown.

"but i want to... i've been wanting to feel you the whole night." you pressed soft kisses along his jawline, making him swallow harshly as you saw his adam's apple bob.

"then let me make it up to you since that bastard pulled me away from you. i'll make you feel good, baby." he lifted your hips, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist as his cock was now nestled between your folds.

he walked inside the shower, pulling the glass doors to close it before turning on the water; adjusting the temperature. you cupped his face, pulling him closer to yours to seal his lips with yours.

zayne moaned into your mouth, molding his lips with yours as he softly kneaded your ass. your tongue poked his bottom lip, seeking for entry which he happily granted. you kissed him with a needy vigor, sucking his tongue as you stroked his wet jet black hair.

pulling away breathlessly, zayne looked down at you with swollen lips. he attacked your neck with kisses, making your whimper as you felt his tongue graze your flesh, softly tracing the hickies left on your skin with the tip of his tongue. he moved down to your tits, sucking your nipples as your hand held the back of his head; pushing him closer as you moaned.

"mhmm... feels so good, zayne." you praised, watching him tug your nipple between his teeth before giving it a deserving suck. he soon lets go of your swollen bud, hazel eyes meeting yours.

"i'll be gentle, okay?" he assured, making your chest feel warm and fuzzy as you nodded; wrapping your arms around his neck.

zayne grabbed the base of his cock, tapping your clit a few times, making you jolt. he smirked at how responsive your body was, aligning his tip with your hole. with a firm grip on your hips, he begin to sink you down on his hard cock, slowly shoving his inches inside you.

your mouth formed an 'o' shape as your eyes shut tight, feeling full as he bottomed out.

"s-so full.." you moaned, feeling him slowly thrust inside of you as the curve of his dick molded so perfectly in your wet walls. you clenched down on him, making him grunt at the sudden tightness.

"you feel so good, babygirl." zayne whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek and temple before sliding you up and down his dick. you rested your head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent as you kissed his neck.

this felt so new compared to what happened just minutes ago. the others fought over you like you were some piece of meat to claim; but zayne treated you like you were made of glass.

he was so gentle with his touches and strokes, you could almost cry.

zayne's tip nudged your cervix with every push of his hips, now having you pressed against the wall to have a better hold of you so that he can drive his hips into yours faster. your cunt weeped with arousal, gummy walls coated with his precum.

his thrusts were sharp yet slow, making sure it applied the right amount of pressure and friction to make you feel like you were seeing stars. his balls slapped against your ass, your nipple between his lips.

"hnghh.. love your cock, zyane. g-gonna cum.." you let out a shaky breath, clenching down on him as your increased sensitivity betrayed your body, not allowing you to hold onto your orgasm for too long.

"it's okay, baby. you can cum." he grunted against the wet skin of your tits and you didn't realize how intimate and erotic the whole sight was.

a choked out whimper escaped your throat, your cunt clamping down on him as you squirted all over his cock. your body twitched and trembled at your orgasm, panting as you leaned against his chest.

"shit, please... i need you to fill me up." you begged and that's all it took him to bust a fat load of his thick, hot cum inside your hole.

"fuck.." he swore and god it sounded so hot coming from his mouth.

the bathroom was filled with the sounds of uneven breathing and the running showerhead.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

you stirred awake, groaning as you now laid on your back. sunlight beamed into your room, making your eyes burn as you tried to crack one of them.

"fuckin' hell.." you cursed under your breath, adjusting your vision as you sat up on your bed. your head was swirling as you held it in pain, wincing.

it was all a dream.

you slapped yourself, not believing how delusional you became to believe that whatever the hell that was could be reality.

"yeah, i'm losing it." you sighed deeply, scratching your head. you tapped your phone screen, reading the time as your eyes blew wide open.

fuck, it was well past noon, meaning you missed your morning classes already.

"you're kidding me." you huffed out in annoyance, leaning back on the headboard as you unlocked your phone.

you saw the many, many, many missed calls from your best friend; making you snort.

as you swiped through your applications, your eyes fell on the love and deepspace icon. memories of your strange dream replayed fresh in your memory, your body weirdly aching.

you brushed off those thoughts, clicking the icon as you wondered if infold fixed those weird bugs and glitches by now. you were surprised to see the app back into shape, running in good quality as you logged in with ease.

"huh, weird." you mumbled to yourself, calmly collecting your daily’s.

until you realized you had five unread messages.

hey pipsqueak, hope you're not still mad at me for being a bit mean to ya. i'll cook for you when you come back :p

hope you're not missing me too much, sweetie. come back and i'll take you for a joyride.

cutieeee! i miss you already :C come back soon, okay? need my personal pillow back.

if your throat is still sore, come back so we can have hotpot together. it'll be my treat.

have you taken those painkillers like i told you to?

your jaw was wide open, not believing your eyes. these texts seemed way too real to be automated.

"what the fuck." you quickly opened your front camera, only to see the faint purplish marks decorating your neck.

holy shit, all of that was real.

a smirk etched on your face as you quickly tapped the facetime app, ringing the only person you knew could stand this news and have a silver of faith in you to be convinced.

"finally decided to call me back? thought you died in your sleep or something." your best friend nagged at you, making you chuckle.

"you won't believe what happened last night." you giggle, making her roll her eyes at you.

"let me guess, you had a dream about all the lads guys fucking your brains out." she responded with a bored voice.

"even better."

---

a/n: hehe, if you made it to the end, kuddos to you cuz rereading through this was a pain the ass. if you couldn't tell by now, this was very self-indulgent, so i got carried away. hope you guys enjoyed it tho!!

[dawngyu]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ིྀ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

⠀˚⠀⠀♡⃕ㅤ pairing:ㅤㅤhusband choi beomgyu x wife reader

You haven’t spoken in days. You don’t even breathe loud anymore. Not since the night you saw what happens to those who do. The monsters don’t miss. The monsters come for sound like it’s blood in the water. One gasp. One sob. One accidental whisper and it’s over. Not just for you. It’s for the tiny life growing inside you. And if anything happens to you, you know. It’ll be the death of him, too.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: a quiet place au, apocalypse!, established relationship, pregnancy, angst, romance, hurt/comfort, horror!, death!, descriptions of giving birth, subtle signs of postpartum!d. if any of the warnings above might be triggering for you, please step back. let me know if I missed anything. this is a work of fiction.

𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍-𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: MDNI, multiple-smut scenes, missionary, nipple-play, fingering, oral!fem receiving

𝗐𝖼: 22k — playlist.

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: thank you to my girl izzy, who made me watch a gameplay and unknowingly sparked the idea for this story. and a big thank you for my angel, cam — for sticking with me through everytime i got confused, scared, or just plain lost. i love you both.

“What?” you breathe out, with pretensing offense. You rest your head against his bicep, his arm curled around you, fingers gently combing through your hair. His other hand traces idle patterns on your skin, his thumb brushing your cheek, to the corner of your mouth, then down the column of your neck. “So you want me to die first?” you ask quietly.

He hums, nodding, a lopsided, boyish smile playing on his lips as you roll your eyes. He laughs under his breath, the sound warm, and shifts closer, his bare skin pressed to yours, “When we’re old,” he says, “so old everything’s white and wrinkled and slow…” He pauses to laugh again, eyes crinkling as they find yours, soft, because he’s seeing the softness on yours too. “If we die from just... being that old, I want you to go first.”

You blink, stunned for a second, and he continues, his voice gentler. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you being left behind. I’d rather stay just a little longer. To hold your hand through the end. To take care of you until your last breath. Until I know you don’t have to be alone.” His thumb brushes your cheek again, slower this time. “And when you can’t see me anymore… then I’ll go.”

They say marriage dulls love eventually. That over time, it settles into something quieter... less magic, more habit. Maybe that’s just how it goes. Maybe that’s what people mean when they call it normal. You see fewer families that are still whole. You meet more children who learned how to cope with absence before they ever learned how to tie their shoes.

You're lucky, they say, if your husband still comes home at night. Not even with flowers or apologies just... home. That’s what your mother always told you. Maybe because it was easier to say that than admit she was waiting for a man who rarely looked her in the eyes. Maybe she believed it, after enough nights of watching your father’s gaze follow women who weren’t her.

And as you got older, resentment took root. Maybe it wasn’t just men you started to hate. Maybe it was love itself or the idea of it. The way it demanded pieces of you and called it devotion. The way it asked you to wait, to bend, to stay small. You built walls. You spoke in sharp edges. You told yourself you were safer alone than ever being seen and still not chosen. You wanted nothing of it; none of that soft, foolish ache your mother carried in her eyes when she thought no one was looking.

No one really tells you that even the strongest walls don’t always hold. That storms, no matter how loud, eventually... settle. And that the sky doesn’t bloom with colour until the rain has had its say. You didn’t see it coming. How everything you once said you’d never need, never want, could begin to change. Almost without asking permission.

All because of one person.

You still remember the day you met your husband.

“Hey.”

You froze at the sound of Kai’s voice, jaw tightening as you continued folding flannels at the booth with your back still to him. Cold. Distant. And he knew exactly why.

He sighed, because yeah, he fucked up. And now you were icing him out, and rightfully so. He, along with Taehyun, had worked painstakingly to earn a place on your side. Now here he was, ruining it in one careless moment. “Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? I thought you already knew that — ”

“That what?” Your voice cut clean through the air, sharp. You finally turned to face him, and for a second, he almost wished you hadn’t. Your eyes weren’t tearful or hurt, they were hard. Disappointed.

You weren’t just anyone, you were the spine of this whole group. The one no one dared cross. The one everyone looked to when things got messy. Queen of the batch, they called you. And right now? He knew exactly how small he was beneath your gaze. Kai cleared his throat, suddenly unsure of where to put his hands, his guilt too loud in the silence between you. He glanced at Taehyun, desperate for backup, but Taehyun didn’t even look up. He kept shuffling papers like his life depended on it, like the tension in the room hadn’t tripled.

He wasn’t getting saved.

Not this time. “Uh—”

“I told you to study for it, Huening Kai. Am I right?” The full name. Shit. Even he knows that’s when it’s bad. “So we could present together. And now you’re standing here telling me you didn’t even look at your assigned parts?”

“I forgot, okay?” he stammers, eyes wide and guilty. “There was band practice, and then—there was—”

“Stop. Talking.”

He snaps his mouth shut instantly, lips pressed together in a dramatic pout. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, like a kicked puppy trying to look cute.

You sigh, deep and tired. Not just at him but at yourself, for expecting better. For thinking this time he’d actually take it seriously. Your fingers press to your temples as you close your eyes briefly, grounding yourself before you say something worse. He’s looking at you like he’s one bad breath away from a full apology or running.

A year ago, you would’ve let the anger win. You would’ve said something that bite, just to feel like you still had control, but you now don't. Because now… now you’re learning to make space for the boy standing in front of you.

“Kai…” you start, softer now, “I didn’t ask for perfect. I just asked for effort. Fine, I'll do it.”

Kai’s about to open his mouth, probably to try another sorry excuse — when a loud laugh echoes across the auditorium, careless. You glance up instinctively. There they are; two seniors strolling in like the place was built for them. The taller one with deep dimples flashes a grin, saying something that makes the other throw his head back in a laugh that fills the space. He’s all hair and arrogance, long strands brushing the tops of his shoulders. Your eyes narrow, tracking him across the room.

Do they even realize this is an important event? Do they care? You roll your eyes, jaw clenched as irritation flares anew, like a match struck just a little too fast. Beside you, Kai quietly mutters another apology, but your attention has already shifted, redirected like a storm changing direction. You hate it, how easily they command the room. How everyone watches them. How they know they’re being watched. Just because they’re seniors.

Entitlement looks good on them, and that pisses you off even more.

“I hate that guy,” you mutter.

Taehyun follows your gaze. “Be specific,” he says, monotone. “There are two.”

“The loud one,” you snap. “One with the hair.”

Taehyun hums, unbothered. He knew why. “Of course.”

Kai leans in. “Be honest… is it hate, or is it hate-hate?”

You shoot him a glare so sharp he visibly leans back. “Okay. Hate it is,” he nods quickly.

Even as you turn away, your eyes flick once more to the boy with the laugh that somehow still echoes in your head.

You hate him.

You do.

The day moved in a blur. Fast at first, then agonizingly slow as your turn crept closer.

Most teams had two, sometimes three people standing up there together. You had no one. Alone behind the podium, trying to hold yourself upright on nothing but adrenaline and a little bit of pride. Still, you managed. You held your own. Answered every question crisply, clearly, almost like you’d rehearsed in your sleep. Everything was going fine. One of the panelists shifted in their seat, glanced down at their notes, then asked, “What do you think is the most important thing we should do for prospectives?”

It wasn’t a technical question. It wasn’t numbers or science or theory. It wasn’t anything you could calculate or memorize or recite.

You froze. Not because you didn’t care, but because that part of the project, that question was Kai’s. You stood there, blinking once, then twice. You could calculate a compound’s atomic behavior in a heartbeat, you could solve a formula blindfolded, but this? This felt like a punch to the gut in front of everyone. You focused on facts, ratio and numbers too much. It was so simple, so human, and you're giving silence.

You could feel it. eyes narrowing. Confusion settling. Their expectations hanging in the air like lead. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? Is this all you are? Talk? No follow-through? You’re about to clear your throat, to say something, anything, to fill the itch clawing at your throat, when movement catches your eye.

In the very back, nearly hidden by rows of students, a hand lifts into the air. Not high. Not obvious. Almost like it wasn’t meant to be seen. No one else notices, except the boy next to him, who nudges him, brows raised. Your eyes stay locked on him.

Choi Beomgyu.

He doesn't speak, doesn't call out. He just forms a shape with his hands. Subtle, a quiet symbol drawn into the space between you.

A heart.

It feels louder than anything else in the room.

You look away. Swallow the lump rising in your throat. And when you turn back to the panelist, your voice finds itself. “Heart,” you say, “The most important thing is to reach the heart of your audience. Because if you don’t connect, nothing else will matter.”

A breath slips from your lungs the moment you catch the flicker of approval on the professor’s face.

Everything ended, hours pass and around you, the noise returns. Chairs scrape. Bags zip. Voices rise again like nothing happened. Kai and Taehyun are already across the table, heads down as they quietly gather the presentation materials.

You feel Kai’s eyes flick toward you, but not at you. Past you.

You turn. Choi Beomgyu stands just a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you like he isn’t sure if you’ll stay or walk right past him.

You sigh, tugging your bag higher on your shoulder. “Alright,” you mutter, “It’s due, isn’t it? What do you want?”

Beomgyu blinks, caught off guard. His voice is quieter than you expect, almost like he wasn’t planning to speak at all. “…A thank you?”

“Thank you,” you mutter, barely meeting his eyes. Out of the corner of your vision, you catch Taehyun dragging a starry-eyed Kai away, literally pulling him by the elbow. A few students glance your way too, some whispering. You know why.

The two students, each known as the best in their own batch, now suddenly in the same frame.

“I know that’s probably not enough,” you sigh, folding your arms. “Men never really settle for just words, do they? What is it, food? A favor? Something for your class? Say it.”

He laughs softly. “I just think…” he starts, then trails off, scratching the back of his neck. “I just think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Maybe that’s why I did it.”

You blink. Of all the things you expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. He’s flushed now, stammering through the rest. “I, I mean — I’ve watched you since before. Not in a creepy way, I swear. But just… fuck, you could sell poison and I’d still line up for it.”

A laugh breaks from your chest before you can stop it. He grins, almost in disbelief, like he can’t believe he got you to laugh.

What you didn’t know back then, what no one could’ve told you, was that the same boy standing here, flushed and awkward and a little reckless with his heart, would be the one to melt it all away, would be your exception, and would be the one to stand at the end of an aisle, eyes shining, waiting to marry you.

You blink, stunned for a second, and he continues, his voice gentler. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you being left behind. I’d rather stay just a little longer. To hold your hand through the end. To take care of you until your last breath. Until I know you don’t have to be alone.” His thumb brushes your cheek again, slower this time. “And when you can’t see me anymore… then I’ll go.”

They say marriage dulls love eventually, but as your eyes blur with tears from the way he looks at you, so full of awe, as if you’re still something he can’t believe he gets to hold, and as your heart pulls tight at the gentleness in his voice, you know they were wrong. If anything, he loves you more. As if every day, his heart just finds a new way to fall for you.

“I love you,” you whisper, it's small but he hears it. He doesn’t speak — he can’t. His mouth moves around the words I love you too, but his voice catches before it can reach you. His eyes shine, his throat tight, and all he can do is look at you.

It’s been six years since you first met your husband, Beomgyu. He pursued you like you were gravity itself. He waited for you outside your lectures, rain or shine, just to walk you back to your dorm. He brought you coffee before exams, left sticky notes on your textbooks, made it his mission to learn the things you loved, just so he could love them too.

Within months, you said yes. Not just to being his girlfriend, but to the rhythm of a life slowly intertwining with his. Breaks became your sacred hour. Homework turned into nights side by side, papers spread out like puzzle pieces, his laughter softening the cruelty of long days. You studied. You dreamed. And you fell, so deeply, so fully, it terrified you. By the time Beomgyu graduated, it wasn’t just your hearts that had found home in each other. Your families met and clicked as if the universe had been planning it all along.

While Beomgyu poured himself into his Biology degree, interning as a lab researcher with determination, you chased a harder dream. You wanted to become a general surgeon — something that demanded long hours, relentless focus, and years more schooling. You feared the distance your ambition might create, the strain it could put on, but Beomgyu never flinched. He adjusted, he waited, he stayed.

He carved his own path slowly, carefully, becoming a research specialist step by step, all while holding space for you to grow. He never made you choose. Instead, he became the steady presence who picked you up on your worst days and celebrated even your smallest wins.

And when the time was right, when you were still tired from hospital rotations, hair a mess, hands aching from studying; he knelt on one knee, ring in hand, eyes full of the same certainty he had when he first saw you.

It’s been two years since you said your vows; two years of being married, of building a life not just in promises, but in the everyday. You’re both in your late twenties now, older, a little more tired maybe, but grounded in something stronger than youth. You’re still studying, pushing through the final stretch of your residency, while he’s found his name with respect in the field he loves.

Beomgyu wakes up early with you, even when he doesn’t have to. He packs your lunch on days you forget, leaves notes on your coffee cup when you’re too bleary-eyed to speak. Some nights, he waits up just to reheat your dinner, just to ask how your shift went, even if your words are half-slurred with exhaustion.

And still, somehow, he looks at you like it’s the first time.

Every hard day ends with him. Every version of your future still starts with him. In all the chaos, he remains your calm. In all the movement, he remains your constant. You used to wonder if love could last, if love was real. Now you know — it is. It just takes someone who chooses you every single day, even when the days are long and the words are few.

Beomgyu never stopped choosing you.

"You’re free today, right?" your husband asks as he flips a pancake, his tone light but full of meaning. “I was thinking... we could just stay in bed all day. Cuddle. Make love. Just… be.”

You choke on your orange juice, sputtering as the sweetness burns down the wrong pipe. Even after all these years, he still manages to catch you off guard. “Y-Yeah,” you cough out, cheeks warming. “I don’t have anything today. I remembered you were off.”

He flashes that boyish grin, throwing both fists in the air. “Yes!” he whispers dramatically, the spatula still in one hand. You giggle at the sight, he’s always a little ridiculous when it’s just the two of you, and your heart aches with how much you love him like this. He sets the pancakes down with exaggerated care, and you help him plate the rest, moving around each other in that familiar, wordless rhythm. Now seated across from him, he digs into his food with satisfaction, and you take your first bite too.

He looks up between chews. “Wanna watch a movie later?”

You were just about to speak when something twisted deep in your stomach, a pressure climbed your throat. You barely had time to register the panic flashing across Beomgyu’s face before instinct took over.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, half-rising from his seat. His voice trembled with concern as he watched you press a shaky hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t answer. The chair scraped loudly against the floor as you bolted upright, your body moving before your brain could catch up. You heard him call your name behind you, but the sound was already drowned out by the thudding of your heartbeat and the desperate rush of your footsteps toward the bathroom.

Your knees hit the cold tile just in time.

Everything came up in a rush — sour, bitter. You gagged again, pain wracking your stomach as it emptied itself. The bile scorched your throat, your eyes watering from the force of it. You clutched the edge of the sink with one hand, the other trembling against your abdomen. Pancakes. It had to be the pancakes, right? But… you loved those. You always had.

Everything hurt. Your stomach cramped with each heave, your throat burned, and your head spun like the room had tilted sideways. Every wave of nausea pulled you further under, like drowning in your own body. Everything feels horrible, everything is —

“Hey… breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”

Warm hands on your back. Beomgyu’s touch moved up and down your spine in soft, reassuring strokes. After a second, you felt him gently gather your hair, pulling it away from your face. His free hand found your knee, cupping it softly, a barrier between your trembling body and the cold, unyielding floor. “More?” he said, voice thick with worry.

You didn’t answer, not yet. The nausea had finally passed, but you still felt wrung out, hollowed. You reached blindly for the flush, the mechanical whirl of water echoing louder than it should have in the small room. “Are you okay? Something wrong with the food?”

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, fragile. Your legs feel unsteady as you slowly rise to your feet, and Beomgyu is there in an instant, arms steadying you, eyes never leaving your face.

He follows you to the sink in silence. You grip the cool edges of the porcelain and glance up at your reflection, pale and drawn, but it’s not just your face you’re looking at; it’s his eyes in the mirror, still locked on you.

He looks scared.

You rinse your mouth, trying to rid yourself of the sourness. You reach automatically for the mouthwash but pause when your eyes catch your sealed box of tampons, untouched. Something tugs at your chest. Your breath stills.

When… when was the last time?

“Gyu,” you say softly. He hums in response, giving you space to find your words. You turn just enough to look at him, really look at him. His brows are knit in concern, lips parted like he’s already halfway to asking what’s wrong again. You swallow hard, voice barely a breath.

“You should buy me some pregnancy tests.”

It was the longest three minutes of your life.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, elbows on your knees, hands clutched tightly together. Your heart pounded like a warning bell, loud in your chest, loud in your ears. Across the small bathroom, Beomgyu paced like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or break down.

"Shit, my heart is about to burst," he muttered, running a hand through his hair for the fifth time. His eyes kept darting toward the sink, where two pregnancy tests sat waiting. “Should we call your parents? My mom? What do we even need to buy, diapers? Vitamins? A crib? Wait, we don’t even know yet — ”

"Beomgyu." You said his name firmly, and he froze. His eyes snapped to yours, wild with thought, but something in your tone reeled him back in. “You’re more frantic than me,” you said softly.

He let out a shaky laugh, barely a breath, then crossed the room in two steps. He knelt in front of you, his hands warm as they cradled your face. His forehead met yours with the gentleness of a promise. "Whatever it is," he said, voice steady now. “Whatever the outcome… we’re okay. You and me.”

You nodded, pressing your eyes closed for a second, to hold the weight of this moment between your bodies. The fear, the hope, the fragile anticipation curling in your chest.

Your alarm goes off, Beomgyu grips your hand.

Two pink lines.

You didn’t know what happened in the next few seconds, it all blurred. You knew it wasn’t final, that a doctor’s confirmation still waited ahead, but none of that mattered, not when Beomgyu looked at you like you’d handed him the universe.

He lifted you with a laugh that cracked, arms wrapped around you like he never wanted to let go. His lips found yours again and again, messy, full of awe. You had to push him back just to breathe, only for him to chase after you, kissing you like his life depended on it. You started painting a picture behind your closed eyes.

A home. A life. Beomgyu. And your... child.

He carried you to the bed in a blur, laying you down, “You're carrying my baby,” he whispered, breath ragged, brushing your hair from your face. “God, I can’t believe, I love you, I love you so much—”

Then his mouth was on you again, trailing from your jaw to your collarbone, down to the curve of your breasts. He cupped them gently, thumbs brushing your nipples until they tightened beneath his fingers. He kissed every inch, like he was memorizing you anew, lips worshipping the swell of your chest, the softness of your stomach. When he slid your panties down, he did it slowly, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers parted you, tender at first, then more firm as you gasped beneath him, the heat of your body answering his touch instantly. “You feel so warm,” he murmured, voice almost breaking. “So perfect. Mine.”

His mouth followed, tongue tasting you slowly. Your back arched. His hands pressed your thighs open wider, and you cried out his name, your hands tangling in his hair. He climbed over you, his cock pressed hard and aching against your entrance, you reached for him. He moved slowly at first, savoring every inch of you, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you whispering between breaths. “I love you.”

His pace quickened as your moans filled the room, his hips snapping forward harder, deeper, one hand cupping your breast, the other finding your clit. But even then, his eyes never left yours, wide and glassy.

He came with your name on his lips, his body trembling above yours. He didn’t pull away. He just held you, panting against your skin, his hand sliding protectively over your stomach.

“I’ll give everything to you,” he whispered, “To both of you.”

It felt like the rest of your life had just opened its doors, and welcomed you home.

“Yeah, I’ll drive safely, I promise,” you say into the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you push the shopping cart forward. “The weather’s nice today, so I thought I’d swing by and visit Ryujin later too.”

“You should’ve waited for me to come home before going out,” Beomgyu grumbles on the other end, and even though it’s just a call, you can hear the pout in his voice.

You smile to yourself. “I couldn’t wait two more days, hun. Maybe it’s the hormones? I just really needed to get out of the house.”

You bow politely to an elderly couple who step aside for your cart. There’s a flutter in your chest, not just from the grocery run, but from the soft awareness that you’re not alone in your body anymore. He sighs, his voice softer now. “How’s the shopping? You still okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, reaching for a box of cereal and dropping it into the cart. “I haven’t thrown up all morning, actually.”

“That’s good.” A pause. Then, “Work’s alright. Busy. The relocation is almost done, they’re giving me one more project before I get to be picky again.”

“Picky?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to be.” You hear a faint smile in his voice now. “My wife’s pregnant.”

“Beomgyu… you’ve been boasting about it to everyone, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have,” he says, without an ounce of shame. “I made it.”

You laugh, unable to help it. “Sir, it’s my body.”

“And I’m the co-founder. Are you trying to use science against me now?”

“Well,” you tease, biting back another grin, “if you only think that way…”

“Don’t.” He cuts you off with a playful groan, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Stop right now or I swear, I’ll drive home just to kiss that pretty mouth of yours.”

Your laugh slips out before you can stop it, light and full of something so easy, so whole. You hear his own laughter follow. For a moment, the world feels small. His voice in your ear. Your hand on your stomach. A swell of joy on your chest.

Everything had felt too perfect.

You turned down another aisle, cart wheels squeaking softly against the floor as you absently listened to Beomgyu's voice through the phone. He was moving around on the other end, probably getting ready to head back to work after spending his whole break talking to you.

Your hand reached for a bottle of ketchup when the ground shifted beneath you. It was so subtle at first you thought you imagined it, but then, another jolt. Harder. A low rumble filled the air, then the shelves trembled.

Screams erupted down the aisle,. Someone dropped a basket. Another shouted. The floor seemed to tilt and shudder, the metallic clatter of falling cans and shattering glass erupting around you like a storm. Your phone slipped from your hand.

“Shit,” you breathed, backing away instinctively, heart lurching to your throat. You let go of the cart and crouched low, one arm bracing against the shaking shelf, the other instinctively cradling your stomach.

You dropped to your knees, trying to stay steady as the floor trembled. Panic rose like bile in your throat. You scanned the store, heart hammering, searching desperately for an exit, but you were deep in the back. Trapped between rows of falling items, far from the doors, far from safety. As soon as the tremors stopped, you scrambled for your phone, fingers fumbling to grab it from where it had fallen. The screen was cracked, but still lit and his voice came through immediately.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Beomgyu’s voice was tight. “There was an earthquake. You need to get out of that store, now. Find open space. Keep me on the phone. Just hurry, but be careful.”

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding in your ears. “Okay,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I’m okay. I’m — ”

Your words froze. A scream ripped through the air, guttural. You turned instinctively toward the sound, but the aisle was empty. Your feet stilled. The grocery store, which had just been chaos, fell into a thick, sudden silence.

Too quiet.

You stepped forward slowly, eyes darting around, and saw a man at the far end of the aisle. He looked confused, his brows furrowed as if he too had heard it but didn’t understand. He looked at you, seeking answers you didn’t have.

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. “Beomgyu…” your voice was barely above a whisper, “something’s wrong.”

There was a beat of silence, then the sharp shuffle of movement on the other end. “Get out of there. Now,” he ordered, voice low but firm. “Don’t wait. Go home. I’m already on my way.”

“HELP! PLEASE, HELP!”

The scream shattered whatever silence was left. It wasn’t fear, it was terror. Pure, bone-deep terror.

Your breath caught in your throat as people started running, shouting over one another, shopping carts abandoned and crashing into shelves. Panic took over like a wave, and you ran with it, feet moving before your mind could catch up, heart hammering so violently you could barely breathe.

“What?” you gasped out loud, the word foreign and unreal in your mouth. “Was it the earthquake? What’s happening?”

You were seconds from reaching the crowd gathering near the store’s front exit when everything stopped.

Because through the tall glass panels, beyond the automatic doors, you saw it.

It wasn’t human. Its body was long, towering, its legs grotesquely jointed and thin like twisted branches. Its skin looked slick and dark, somewhere between rotted brown and black, like it had grown from the earth itself. And its head was massive, lopsided, glistening under the sun.

It was sprinting.

Right toward the entrance. Right toward you.

Your body moved on instinct, run. You turned, bolting in the opposite direction, the air thick with screams and the thundering of feet. Your hands were shaking so hard, your phone slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor without a sound. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

You didn’t look back.

Thuds. Cracks. Wet. Tearing.

They're dying. You were moving too fast, too desperate. The screams behind you changed, twisting from fear to agony. It was killing them.

Run.

Your arms wrapped around your stomach like a shield, legs pushing you faster than they ever had before. You turned down an aisle blindly. More screaming. Another crash.

Your ears rang from the sounds. Your hands were shaking so hard you could barely keep yourself upright. The store, once so bright and dull and normal, was now a labyrinth of blood and chaos and shadows and you were running for your life through it. It wasn’t over.

Another one ripped through the grocery store’s left wall like paper, jagged limbs piercing through the broken frame, its massive head twitching unnaturally as it unfolded itself into the store. The sudden eruption sent you stumbling; you hit the floor hard, landing flat on your back, the breath knocked from your lungs. It was already inside. Long legs scraped against tile, too many joints bending in ways that made your stomach turn. It moved with intent, frenzied.

It was running towards a woman, five feet in front of you.

“Mommy!!” A child. No older than six. His tiny voice cut through, making the creature snapped its head around, twisting its body in a full.

You gasped. In less than a second, it lunged.

The boy didn’t even have time to move. One hideous limb lashed out, a blur of motion and then there was blood. His body hit the shelf behind him, crumpling like a doll, small hands twitching once before going still. The mother screamed. A scream that sounded like it broke something in her throat. She ran but not away. Toward him. Toward where her son used to be and the monster met her halfway.

You could only watch. Helpless. Paralyzed. The creature descended on her like a machine — limbs slashing, tearing. Her scream didn’t last long. The sound turned to wet gurgling, bones cracking beneath the weight of its strikes. Her blood painted the tiles in uneven splashes.

You pressed a hand to your mouth. You feel the burn in your eyes.

It should’ve gone for the woman. She was right in front of it —motionless, exposed. The obvious target. The child screamed. He was farther away, barely in its path. He just screamed for his mother, a sharp, panicked sound.

And that was all it took.

It turned. It moved. Not toward the closest body, but toward the sound. The child made a noise, and the monster struck. Then the mother screamed, and it went for her next. You glance at it. It’s not attacking you. Its head is smooth. Perfectly round. No eyes. No mouth. No face at all. It has no eyes. It hears. If your theory’s wrong, if it can see you — you’ll be dead.

You stay still, your body trembling against the cold floor. Every instinct screaming to run, to hide, to cry but you keep your mouth shut.

You don’t make a sound.

You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your skin had turned ice-cold, and every hair on your body stood on end like a warning. It moved slowly at first, almost aimlessly, like it was feeling its way through the dark. Then, out of nowhere, a police siren shrieked past outside. The creature recoiled, let out a piercing, guttural scream, as if it had been set on fire. He went out, harsly running towards it's next target, leaving you alone.

Your legs are weak, but you forced yourself to stand. The store was dead silent now. Too silent. The smell hit you. Thick. Coppery. Blood.

Everyone's dead.

You didn’t dare speak. Not even a whisper, the sound might draw it back. Your feet moved on their own; slow, unsteady, barely touching the ground, every creak of the tile felt deafening. You were trying not to breathe too loudly.

You needed to get home. Home. Just get home.

You’d have to drive, but if you drove… they’d hear. They’d come. Just like they did when that police car screamed past, sirens blaring — the car was torn apart like it was nothing.

You swallowed hard. Your throat was dry. Your phone. Where was your phone?

Beomgyu.

His name hit you like a punch to the chest. Choi Beomgyu. He told you to go home. He said he was on his way. No. No no no no. He can’t come here. He can’t. Your breath caught. Panic bloomed sharp and fast, stealing the air from your lungs. You pressed a hand to your chest like it might hold you together.

You were supposed to scream. That’s how the body processes fear, but how do you let it out, when silence is the only thing keeping you alive?

You move through the store like a ghost, each step slow and deliberate as you make your way to the essentials section. Outside, the world is chaos. Screams slice through the air. The guttural shrieks of monsters rattle your bones. You flinch every time. Your hands tremble. But you don’t stop.

You can’t stop.

You have to do this. He’s waiting for you. You need to see your husband, just once more, even if it’s the last time.

You sling the backpack over your shoulder. You trade your shoes for boots — quieter, sturdier. Thank God you wore pants. Beomgyu’s sweatshirt still clings to your frame, carrying the faintest trace of him. You pull gloves over your hands, muffling every touch, every sound. The back door creaks when you open it. You freeze. Wait. Then move. It takes forever.

No matter how long it takes, no matter how many times your heart threatens to shatter, you're going home.

You’ve been walking for almost three hours.

You should’ve been home an hour ago, but your steps are slow, too slow. Every time a monster crosses your path, every time something horrific stares back at you from the shadows, your feet freeze. They root to the ground like they’d rather become stone than move forward.

You kept going. One more turn and you'd be home. You could already feel it. The warmth of your apartment, the way the hallway light flickers, the sound of his voice saying your name. You could almost see his face. You didn’t care what came next. Not the monsters. Not the sky falling. You just wanted to see him again.

You smelled it first. You saw it next.

It's on fire. Your building was on fire.

You almost stumble when you see them, multiple monsters gathered across the street, drawn like moths to the roaring flame consuming your home. The crackling fire must’ve called to them, like some kind of death song. You press yourself against the wall, heart pounding in your ears, eyes scanning the streets with desperate hope.

Is his car here? Is he? He drove. If he drove, he wouldn’t have made it back. Not through this hell. The realization sinks in like a knife twisting in your mind, cruel. You had hoped. Foolishly, stubbornly. Even without a phone, without power, without a single sign, your heart had held on to the idea of seeing him again.

Now you stand in front of a burning building and wonder what’s left to hold on to.

That morning flashes through your memory, so painfully clear now. The way he got up quietly, kissed your cheek, your forehead, your nose, over and over like he couldn’t bear to leave. You let sleep take you, too warm, too safe to stir. You didn’t even say goodbye.

If you had known…

If you had known, you would’ve woken up. You would’ve pulled him back into bed, wrapped yourself around him like it could stop time. You would’ve held him until the sun rose twice.

A piercing screech rips through the air, dragging you violently back to reality. Your breath hitches as your body flinches on instinct. You stagger back a step, your vision swimming, not from fear, but from the tears spilling freely down your cheeks.

You stare at the fire swallowing your building, and the truth finally settles, cold and merciless: He’s not here. He’s not coming back. The chance of finding him… it was impossible.

The fire devours everything you once called home, and in your mind’s eye, it scorches more than walls and furniture. Your college photos, where he smiled like the world was a little softer with you in it. Your wedding day, frozen in frames, dressed in love and laughter. The letters he wrote, the ones he hid in lunch boxes and slipped between pages of your books, always signed with too many hearts. All gone.

You're now a hollow shell with shaking legs and a heart left behind in a home that no longer exists. You start walking because there’s nothing else to do. You don’t know where you’re going. There’s nowhere left to go. No plan. No direction. You dreamed of years with him in that apartment — mornings, chaotic dinners, shared laughter in the kitchen. Your child one day, his eyes, your smile. You dreamed of life.

Everything that was his, everything that was yours, is now reduced to ash.

You’re curled up inside an abandoned house.

It’s not safe, but it’s hidden. You chose it because there’s less chance they’ll hear you here. You sit on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, trying to eat. Your hands move like they belong to someone else, raising food to your lips in slow, mechanical motions. Just two bites and your stomach twists violently, rejecting it. You press a hand to your mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

And then it comes again, your tears. You don’t even try to stop them now. They slide down your face, soaking into your sleeves. Your throat tightens with a sob you can’t release because crying out loud would kill you.

You cry in silence, your body shaking, your chest heaving like you’re trying to breathe through water. Your heart hurts. Physically hurts. And for what?

What’s your purpose now?

You were supposed to be a doctor. You had plans, you spent years of studying, training, pushing your limits because you wanted to help. You lived with your hands busy, always reaching for someone else. You belonged in the noise, in the rush, in the healing. Now… there’s no one left to help. No one to save. Not even yourself.

The only peace you ever truly knew was in his arms, holding his hand, feeling his heartbeat next to yours. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you wonder if it would be easier to just stop breathing. Should you give up?

Is this how it ends?

You run your hands over your head, fingers digging into your scalp like you’re trying to wake yourself from this nightmare. It made you feel your bracelet. Still there, wrapped around your wrist. His gift. His promise. A piece of him, holding on.

No. You can’t give up. What would he think if you did? Are you really going to leave him behind? Are you going to take your child with you into nothingness, before they even have a chance to live?

The thought slams into your chest like a hammer. You gasp, and your breath catches on guilt. Your hands fall to your stomach, shaking. Your eyes are dry, swollen, wide open; sleep hasn’t touched you since the last time he held you. The backpack presses into your spine like punishment. It’s heavy with food, with survival, but you refuse to take it off.

It's for you, for Beomgyu, and it’s for the tiny life growing inside you.

You’re going to find him. You have to.

Beomgyu is smart — brilliant in ways that always amazed you. Steady in a storm, the calm to your chaos. He thinks ahead, plans, protects. He wouldn't give up on you. He’s out there right now, searching, heart clenched just like yours, whispering your name.

You won’t let him search in vain. You press your hand over your stomach again, eyes burning with the fire that refused to die with your home. You’re going to find him.

In a world where sound means death, love — no matter what — will find a way to speak.

Your footsteps barely make a sound.

Stay quiet. Stay alive.

The earth bites at your bare feet, the pain is familiar now, it's almost a comfort. A week ago, you watched your home dissolve into flame and smoke, and it’s been a day since you last slept.

You remember those lectures, they taught you about ecosystems; how every life is woven into another, a perfect balance of give and take, but ever since that day, you are a creature of instinct, hiding from the eyes that stalk the dark. You are prey — breathing, moving, breaking beneath the weight of a world that no longer feels like it belongs to you.

Your stomach growls. It's been hours since your last bite, and now more than ever, you know you can't ignore it. You're not just feeding yourself anymore. You're eating for two.

A sharp sting shoots through your foot. You flinch, glancing down just long enough to spot a smear of red blooming beneath a piece of broken glass. You moved to remove it, slowly. You don't look back at it twice.

Up ahead, you see a grocery store, the sign hangs by a single hinge. You scan the street, abandoned cars, shattered windows, silence stretching thick around you. No movement. No monsters. Not yet.

You push the door open.

Inside, dust and decay hang in the air. Inside, two sets of eyes meet yours from across the aisle. Wide, startled. Human. Just like yours.

Just as afraid.

It’s hard; trying to learn names, to meet someone new, when none of you can speak. Everything will take effort, a will. A notebook and a pen.

The first one you came to know was Soobin. Tall, easily over six feet. His eyes are wide and searching, his hair tousled by the wind, and when he smiled, you noticed the dimples tucked into his cheeks, softening everything. Then there’s Yeonjun, the older one. Sharper features, eyes shaped like a fox, always watching. There’s a seriousness to him, still, he welcomed you the best he could, a nod, a shared look, a warmth that didn’t need sound. You learned they were roomates even before all of this happened, and they managed to stay together, something that made your chest ache.

Strangers were supposed to be dangerous, but something about these two…felt like you already knew them.

It’s your turn with the notebook.

You sit at the table, pen trembling slightly in your hand. Soobin and Yeonjun lean in just enough to read over your shoulder. They told you the store had already been picked clean — nothing left but dust and broken shelves.

So you write anyway. It’s all you can offer.

I'm Y/N. You pause, then press the pen harder. I'm looking for my husband, and I'm pregnant.

There it is, laid bare between the lines. You need them to understand that you're a risk. Your hand hesitates before writing the next part, the words scrape against something tender. If you think I'll be a problem, you can walk out that door, and I won't even look.

Your throat tightens, then you add, in a small, hurried scrawl — But… could you please help me get some food first?

You don’t look up. You’re too afraid of what you’ll see on their faces.

A gentle weight settles on your shoulder. You flinch before realizing it’s Soobin. His hand is steady, reassuring. When you look up, he meets your eyes and nods once, firm and certain.

Then he takes the pen. We'll help you find him, he writes.

You feel a solid in a world that’s been crumbling around you.

You turn to Yeonjun. He doesn't say anything but he jerks his chin toward the broken doorway, already slinging a pack over his shoulder. The look in his eyes is clear as daylight.

Come on, it says. We got you.

You’re not alone anymore.

You slipped easily into the space between Soobin and Yeonjun. It was reckless, you knew that. Three people moving together meant more noise, more danger, but being apart felt worse. As if, despite everything, people were meant to stay close.

Your thoughts snapped back to your husband. The ache didn’t just sit in your chest — it clawed at it, hollowing it out. You could still feel his fingers, ghostlike, curling around yours. His last touch. Your hand drifted to your stomach. A reflex. Yeonjun glanced over, catching the movement, but said nothing.

You searched. You searched everywhere. Every street, every shattered doorway, calling his name in your head even when your lips stayed shut. Was he ever here? Is he even alive? In a world this broken, how do two people ever find their way back?

A thought sparked, something like an idea, but it died just as fast. Your body had other priorities, hunger twisted through you like a threat. You needed food, you needed him, but you could only chase one at a time.

You glance over your shoulder, eyes catching the dull lettering of the grocery ahead, the next stop. Soobin raises two fingers, pointing left. A silent signal. He’ll cover that side. Yeonjun peels off toward the center aisles, moving like he’s done this a hundred times.

That leaves you with the right. Your steps are slow. Every possible creak of the old floor sounds too loud in your ears. You scan the shelves like it’s life or death, because it is. Empty. Empty. Crushed box. Broken glass. Then, cans.

Unopened. Untouched. Real food.

A breath nearly escapes your lips. Relief flutters in your chest, fragile and disbelieving. You move toward it, heart pounding. One hand reaches for the cans. The other tugs your backpack open, inch by inch, slow enough that the zipper barely whispers.

Then, a hand. Over your mouth.

It clamps down hard, cutting off your breath before the gasp can even rise. You freeze. Every muscle in your body locks.

“Don’t make a sound, unless you’re ready to die, sweetheart.”

His voice is so small, but it curls around your ear hot and foul. You flinch as his breath hits your skin, as the rough scrape of his beard grazes your neck. Your eyes sting. You could fight him, but deep down, you know what waits beyond the walls, things far worse than this man. You shift, just a fraction, and he feels it. Cold metal bites into your ribs. The blade doesn’t pierce, not yet. It just promises to.

You stop moving. You stop breathing. You surrender, not because you’re weak, but because survival, for now, means silence. If he hurt you, youu know the truth: there’s no hospital. No rescue. No safety coming. If this goes wrong, it ends here. His hand slips from your mouth only when he’s certain you won’t scream but it doesn't mean mercy. His grip just shifts, closing around your throat instead. Tighter. Controlling.

You can’t breathe. He drags you backward like you weigh nothing, your heels scraping the ground, until he throws you down hard. The floor is uneven and you catch yourself with shaking hands, terrified that even a whisper of sound might bring something worse.

Your mind is chaos. Screaming. Do you cry for help? Do you risk it? Do you die now or later?

Beomgyu.

You shut your eyes. Everything in you trembles. You feel him settle over you, heavy, disgusting, his breath rancid and far too close. It coats your skin like oil. You’d rather die than let this happen —

A sickening, wet gurgle cuts through the silence, and the weight on top of you vanishes. You gasp, chest heaving, and force your eyes open. The world swims for a second and then sharpens into something worse.

The man is on the floor now, thrashing. Yeonjun is on top of him. No hesitation. No mercy.

His right hand is clamped around the man’s throat, every tendon and vein in his arm straining with force, crushing down hard, precise, too precise to be chance. His other hand smothers the man’s mouth, muffling the sounds, denying him even the dignity of a scream. Yeonjun uses his entire body like a weapon, knees pinning limbs, muscles taut with pure intent.

You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You can’t stop watching. It's an execution, and he’s doing it for you, because of you.

Tears blur your vision as the man beneath Yeonjun convulses, still clinging to life. You don’t even know what’s happening anymore. Then you see Soobin, he’s moving toward the scene, eyes wide, taking it all in. His gaze lands on you.

He sees the disheveled mess of your hair, the way your pants are undone, your hand trembling where it’s pressed to your stomach. The tear tracks down your cheeks. The blood. And Yeonjun, Yeonjun is killing someone.

Soobin doesn’t hesitate. He rushes over, voice caught in his throat, and reaches for you slowly, carefully, like you might shatter. He pulls you into him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, arms wrapping tight around you as if to hold the broken pieces together.

Choi Beomgyu gazed at the fading ink scattered across his atlas, a map once full of purpose, now a constellation of lost turns. His eyes wandered the streets around him, searching for a thread to lead him back to the place he used to call home.

He had barely lifted his foot when your face came back again. Your eyes, wide with something between wonder and warning. The way you tilted your head when you were about to say something you knew he’d carry for days. Not even an hour had gone by where you didn’t consume his thoughts, knocking the air from his lungs and paralyzing him for a moment. He missed you. Fuck he missed you terribly and it was enough to render him utterly immobile at points.

Slowly, he drew breath back into his lungs, as if your memory had knocked the wind from him again. Your smile lingered in his mind like a permanent mark, something carved so deeply it could never fade.

He didn’t regret much in his life. Not really. But there was one thing that still clung to him in the quiet: saying yes to this project. It had taken him so far away when everything began to fall apart, when the creatures first touched the earth and turned it into something unrecognizable.

He remembered the shape of you in his arms that morning. You were half-asleep, warm against him, head tucked beneath his chin. He had held you tightly, longer than usual, something in his gut whispering that he shouldn’t go. That he should stay.

You had been tender that week, more emotional than usual, your morning sickness growing worse by the day. You tried to wave it off, brushing his worry aside with a soft laugh, saying you could handle it. But he knew the truth without needing the words. He didn’t want to stay because you were fragile. He wanted to stay because he loved you. Because something in him already knew that those small moments beside you were more precious than anything the world could offer.

And now, as the world burned quietly behind him, all he could think about was how badly he wished he had listened to himself.

You were the one who gave his life direction. The one who turned his quiet ambitions into somewhere full of heart.

He still remembered the first time he really saw you, serious eyes behind the glasses you used to wear, walking across the college grounds like you belonged to another world. He noticed everything. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear. The soft shift in your lip gloss, from peach to plum.

You didn’t even know it, but you changed everything.

He started showing up in places he had no reason to be. Hallways, benches, classrooms that had nothing to do with his schedule. He didn’t care. If there was a chance of crossing your path, that was reason enough. He used to dream about doing big things, things that would make the world remember his name.

With you, he didn’t want to be remembered. He just wanted to matter.

Where is he now, without you by his side?

His chest tightens, another tear threatening to fall questions flash through his mind. Where are you? Are you safe? Are you eating well? How are you holding up? How could he have left you? Alone, pregnant, in the middle of all this ruin?

His body trembles, but he keeps his lips sealed. He wants to scream, to let the pain claw its way out, but he knows — if he does, if he lets himself fall apart, he may never find his way back to you.

He exhales shakily, eyes scanning his atlas again. He traces the route with his finger, committing it to memory, over and over, as if repetition alone might lead him back to you.

He opens his bag and spots the other notebook, the one he had been working on for days. On the nights he couldn’t sleep, he wrote. Plans. Escape routes out of the city. A way to get you out.

He dreamed of getting you onto a boat, finding an island. Somewhere the monsters wouldn’t follow, because he noticed they never touched the water. It became an obsession. He fell deep into it, mapping out every detail. He wrote about how to plant seeds, how to care for them, how to harvest and store food so it would last. He filled pages with water purification methods, survival skills, solar energy setups.

He wrote everything he could; every instruction, every method, every technical detail, even the tender, private things no one ever teaches you to write about. He couldn’t help it. When the nights stretched on too long and sleep wouldn't come, he found himself scribbling through the quiet, as if the act of planning could hold the world together.

He even wrote about how to deliver a child.

You’re going to be a doctor. He knows that. You’ve studied the science, memorized the steps, probably laughed at the outdated textbook he clung to like scripture. Still, he copied it all down, page after page. Not because you needed it. But because he needed it, needed to feel like he was doing something, anything, to be useful to you. To be ready for the moment he might never see.

He wanted so badly to be there. To hold your hand. To keep you steady through the pain. To see the first breath, the first cry. To help you bring life into a world that had done nothing but try to take it.

But he wasn’t sure life would give him that chance.

So he wrote as if he could carve a future into the pages. He planned for a life he might never live, for a child he might never hold, because loving you meant preparing for everything, even the parts he’d never get to share.

He did it because, without question, he would give his life for yours.

He starts walking with heavy heart.

He can't wait to see your face again.

You eat the cereal with your hands. It’s warm, soft on your palms.

"Did you check that spot too?" Soobin asks, his voice low as he takes another bite. "We should mark it before we forget."

"I did," Yeonjun answers, cradling his cup, "We could go further south if we push a little."

Soobin nods slowly, chewing the last of his food. Then he turns to you. "You want seconds?"

They always ask you that. They always wait for your answer, like they won’t take more unless you say no, as if your hunger matters more than theirs.

You shake your head. "No, I’m full. If I eat more, I’ll probably throw up again. Everything’s been... hitting harder lately."

Yeonjun watches you, something flickering in his eyes, he adjusts his backpack, but his attention doesn’t leave you. "You want me to bring you something? Anything?"

It’s been a month since you last saw them. Now, you’re almost three months along. Your belly is still small, but there’s a pressure growing beneath your skin. A heaviness that feels alive.

"I want to go," you say quietly. "I didn’t go yesterday."

Yeonjun lets out a breath and looks at Soobin. "Fine. You're sticking to Soobin."

Soobin reaches for your plate without a word and tosses it into the trash bag. The small gesture is gentle, almost second nature. You watch as the two of them move around the room, gathering what they need like it’s routine now; water, packs, weapons. You quietly sling your own bag over your shoulder, your eyes sweeping over the basement.

You’d only known them for a week when the three of you stumbled on this place. A half-flooded stairwell led you down into silence. Down here, everything is muffled. For a little while, it let you talk without fear. For a little while, it felt safe.

It was here you learned Yeonjun used to be in the military, an intelligence officer. The way he spoke about it was calm, detached, and it explained how he was able to kill the man who hurt you easily. It made sense now, how he moved, how he watched the world like he was still in a war.

Soobin was a journalist, once. You weren’t sure what kind of stories he used to tell, but something in his eyes said he’d seen more than he ever planned to write.

The three of you had your places in the old world. You belonged somewhere, back when society had a shape, but now you’re all pressed together in this dark, breathing basement. No roles, no titles. Three people trying to hold on, and somehow, even the ground feels like it could turn against you.

You tried to explore the city whenever you could. You wanted to believe you were helping, thay you were doing something for find your husband.

Yeonjun once told you, "If Beomgyu’s alive, he’ll come to you. To this city." And that was enough. Enough to keep you here. Enough to make you stay, even when everything in you wanted to run and search every corner of the world.

You still went with them most of the time — on supply runs, short recon trips, but the days were getting harder. Morning sickness hit you like a wave that never let up. Some mornings, you couldn’t even lift your head off the pillow. The room would spin, and your stomach would twist until you were dry heaving into whatever you could reach.

But when Yeonjun and Soobin left without you, and you're all alone, all you could think was; What if he’s out there right now? What if today was the day he came, and you weren’t there? What if he leaves again, thinking you’ve already gone?

It was unbearable.

You feel it rising in your throat again, the nausea curling sharp and bitter, but you force it down. You don’t have a photo of him. Nothing physical to hold onto. All you could offer Yeonjun was a description: long hair, brown eyes, a soft nose. His kind eyes.

You stand. Your body is begging you to rest, but you won’t.

You’re going to find him.

You walk slowly, every step careful. Soobin trails a step behind you, equally silent. Yeonjun moves ahead, eyes scanning the surroundings with his keen eyes. He’s always the first to enter, the first to clear the way. You’re nearing the place now, the one they thought might hold something useful.

You stop at the edge of the road, eyes sweeping the stretch ahead. There’s not a soul in sight. Just the skeletal remains of the world; empty cars rusting in place, glass glittering like ice on cracked pavement. A city caught mid-breath and never exhaled.

Yeonjun gives a signal. One hand raised, sharp and brief. Soobin nods and disappears inside with him. You stay outside.

You stand there alone, heart echoing against your ribs, eyes tracing the silence. You think of your mom. Wonder if she and her husband made it out. If they found shelter. If they’re warm. You think of Taehyun and Kai — how they promised to meet you, how you couldn’t wait to tell them the news. You wanted them to be godfathers. You pictured their stunned smiles, the way they’d tease each other about who the baby would love more.

Now you just hope they’re breathing.

Your throat tightens. Your eyes start to sting, and you blink too fast, hoping the tears will stay where they are. There’s a deep ache rising, slow and thick, like something caught in your chest that won’t move.

Are you giving up?

You turn your head.

To your right, there's a figure. It's still. Watching you.

Your breath snags in your chest. For a second, everything stops. Then your body moves before your mind can catch up, your feet carrying you forward, faster, harder. You feel a jagged stone bite into your heel, but you don’t care. You can’t stop.

You’re not even close yet, but he opens his arms.

That smile —so boyish, so heartbreakingly familiar — spreads across his face like sunlight cracking through storm clouds. His eyes full of disbelief and relief and something so painfully tender, it breaks you.

Choi Beomgyu catches you mid-sprint, arms locking around your body like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, gripping it like a lifeline. His hands move over your back, your shoulders, your hair, as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. His hands protectively settles on your stomach. His worry presses into your skin like a second heartbeat.

You feel him breath.

You’re home.

Two men inside the store stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something hopeful in the way two lovers find each other again. In the ash of everything lost, something warm still flickers.

Beomgyu can’t stop touching you.

He hasn’t said a single word. None of you have. When Soobin and Yeonjun stepped out of the store and saw you still wrapped in his arms, it was like Beomgyu already knew everything.

He knew you’d been with them. He knew they kept you safe.

Now he walks beside you, never letting go of your hand. His fingers stay wrapped around yours, warm and steady, like he’s afraid you might disappear again if he loosens his grip. Every few steps, he squeezes your hand — three times. You remember what it means. His thumb keeps brushing over your palm. His eyes flick down often, scanning the ground ahead of you, making sure there’s nothing sharp or dangerous in your path. He’s guiding you, gently, without needing to say a thing.

As you neared the entrance to the basement, Yeonjun and Soobin wordlessly veered off toward another path. They didn’t need to say anything, it was clear they were giving you and Beomgyu a moment alone. Your heart swelled with gratitude.

You turned to look at them, eyes wide, a smile breaking across your face as if to say; I found him. It was written in every part of you, in the way your shoulders had softened, in the way your steps felt lighter, in the light blooming behind your eyes.

Soobin smiled back instantly, almost proudly, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as much.

Yeonjun's gaze held yours a second too long. Then it drifted to Beomgyu, to the way you leaned into him, glowing like the sun had finally returned to your skin. Slowly, Yeonjun offered a faint smile —small, almost careful. When you directed your blinding smile to him, he looked away as if he was burned, hands tightening just slightly around the strap of his bag, with one thought in his mind. You were no longer his to worry about.

You never really were.

“Be careful.” You freeze.

It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice again, echoing gently down the narrow stairwell. You’re halfway down, and Beomgyu is just below you, one step lower. His hand is wrapped around yours, steady, guiding, making sure you don’t rush the descent. He watches your footing, not because he doubts you, but because he can’t bear the thought of you falling — even now, even for a second.

When your feet finally reach the floor, your chest tightens and your breath breaks. Before he can say a word, you pull him into your arms, hard, your face burying into the space between his neck and shoulder. Your body clings like it remembers the shape of him better than your mind ever could.

He catches you with a quiet laugh, though you feel the way it shakes in his chest. “What is this?” he murmurs, arms wrapping tight around you. “I’m usually the clingy one.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, already crying. “I missed you so much. I can’t— I can’t believe you found me. I kept hoping but... I didn’t know if hoping was enough.”

You feel him breathe in, shakily, “I looked for you every day,” he says, his voice thick, barely keeping steady. “Every goddamn day. I didn’t care what was out there. I just… needed to find you.”

He pulls back only enough to see your face, to brush your tears away with trembling fingers. “I promised you, didn’t I?” he whispers.

His lips press to the crown of your head. His arms tighten around you like he’s trying to put you back together just by holding you. You close your eyes, and when he kisses you again — your hair, your temple, your cheek, something in you breaks open. The tears come fast and uncontrollable.

Every moment you had suffered alone fades under the warmth of him.

“I told you I’d find you,” his voice cracks. “I told you I’d get to you. I’d get you back.” His hands slide from your shoulders to cradle your face. His thumbs brush your tears.

“How’s my wife?” he continues, “Has it… has it all been too much? I’m so sorry. And the baby — ” his voice falters, eyes glistening. “How’s our baby?”

You guide one of his hands to your stomach. His eyes drop, and when his palm meets the curve of you, he stills. His breath catches like he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“We’re okay,” you whisper. “I’ve managed. Somehow.” You let out a soft laugh through your tears, and he smiles, completely undone.

“I’m here now,” he says, his hand never leaving yours. His eyes find yours and hold there, “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you again. Not ever.”

You look into his eyes, and the world blurs around the edges.

In them, you see a thousand versions of the man you’ve loved. The boy with sleepy eyes and ink-stained fingers, laughing across a college hallway. The groom with trembling hands, choking back tears as he vowed to stay. And now, husband worn by distance, a father held together by hope. A man who found you through ruin because loving you never stopped being his compass.

You nod, and then your body moves on instinct, into his arms, into the only place that’s ever truly felt like home.

He catches you, like he always has.

It doesn’t undo the nights you slept with a hand on your belly and silence as your only lullaby. It doesn’t erase the fear, the ache, the long quiet suffering of missing someone like breath.

But as your tears spill freely, soaking into the space where his heartbeat thuds against yours, you know those days have ended.

You stir the pot with a soft smile, the warm scent of the soup rising around you. Beside you, Beomgyu quietly sets out the plates, his own smile lingering as he watches you in silence. Carefully, you begin to ladle the soup, dividing it evenly between four bowls.

“Perfect timing. I’m starving,” Soobin announces as he steps in from the basement entrance, Yeonjun close behind, dropping his bag with a thud.

Everyone started eating silently.

The fire had burned low, its soft embers glowing red in the center of the dark room. You sat close to Beomgyu, your knee brushing his. His hand hadn’t let go of yours since you all sat down. Beomgyu cleared his throat, making Yeonjun looked up from where he sat. Soobin turned his head slowly, his brows slightly raised.

Beomgyu didn’t look at them right away. His gaze was fixed on the floor, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. What I’d say. How I’d say it. But I don’t think there’s a right way.”

He finally looked up, and when he did, there was something heavy behind his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, voice catching a little. “Yeonjun. Soobin. You didn’t have to take care of her. You didn’t owe me anything. But you did. You kept her safe. You made sure she had something to eat. A place to sleep. You looked out for her when I couldn’t.”

Yeonjun shook his head. “Of course we did.”

Beomgyu shook his head back, more firmly. “No. You don’t understand. You saved my family.” He swallowed hard. “That’s something I’ll never forget.”

Soobin’s jaw flexed, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Beomgyu took a breath. “But I didn’t come here just to say thank you. I found something and I think it’s our only chance.”

You looked at him, heart beginning to pound. His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I watched the monster,” he said. “I got close enough to learn how it moves. What it wants. And I found out what it’s afraid of.”

Soobin leaned forward. “What?”

“Water,” Beomgyu said. “It won’t cross it. I tried. I led it toward the river. As soon as I stepped in, it stopped chasing me. Like it hit an invisible wall. I waited, and it never came closer.”

Yeonjun sat up straighter. “You’re sure?”

“I’d bet my life on it,” Beomgyu said. “Which is why I’m done hiding. I’m done letting it trap us in basements and shelters and holes in the ground.”

He turned to look at you, and for a second it was like you were the only two people in the room. “I want her to live. Really live. Not in fear. Not underground. I want her to breathe fresh air and feel sunlight without checking over her shoulder. I want a life with her. As my wife, with our child who can laugh freely. On our own terms.” You felt your throat tighten, his words sinking deep into your chest.

Beomgyu turned back to the others. “There’s an island. I found it a while ago in the map. It’s surrounded by water on all sides, and it’s untouched. It's safe, the monster won’t reach it. We could build something and start over.”

Soobin rubbed a hand over his face, thinking hard. “How far?”

“Two or three days’ travel, depending on how we move,” Beomgyu answered. “It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible either.”

“You really believe this’ll work?” It was Yeonjun.

“I have to,” Beomgyu said. “Because I’m not going to lock her in another basement and pretend it’s living. Not when I know there’s more out there.”

There was a silence. A deep, contemplative one. You could feel the shift in the air as the weight of his words landed. Soobin’s voice broke the quiet. “You’re right. We’ve been surviving for so long, I think we forgot what it means to hope for something better.”

Beomgyu looked between them, his chest rising with a shaky breath. “You’ll come?”

“We’re with you,” Soobin said.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yeonjun added, nodding his head.

Beomgyu turned to you again, eyes soft, voice barely above a whisper. “You ready?”

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat, but your hand in his said everything.

To live.

Your bare feet press into the cool earth as you quietly follow Beomgyu. His hands are warm, fingers gently wrapped around yours.

It’s late. When Beomgyu heard there was a river nearby, he didn’t hesitate, he brought you with him. A backpack rests against his back, packed with clothes you’re supposed to change into later. He stops at the riverbank, his hands giving yours a soft squeeze as he takes in the scene. You follow his gaze. The moonlight spills over everything, silver and soft, making the water shimmer.

All you can hear is the steady rush of the river and the beat of your own heart.

Beomgyu drops the bag with a quiet thud that still manages to startle you. You squeeze his hand to catch his attention. He turns to you, a tender, mischievous warmth flickering in his eyes.

I got you.

He helps you change, careful and quiet, his touch reverent like he’s handling something fragile. His eyes never leave you. They stay soft, full of something deeper than want. He watches you like he's trying to remember this forever, like every small shift of your body is something precious. You move, and he watches — not in hunger, but in awe. He leans in and kisses you, a small, delicate thing at first, like he couldn’t help himself. Then again. And again. Each kiss is a little longer, a little deeper, breaking the stillness of the night with something tender and aching.

Every time a piece of clothing falls away, his lips find a new place —your mouth, your jaw, the curve of your collarbone. His hands are slow but searching, both greedy and gentle, as though he’s trying to memorize you in the dark. The space around you is filled with breath, the whisper of fabric being pulled away, the quiet gasp of skin meeting night air. He takes his time — not because he has to, but because he wants to. The world has fallen away. There’s no fear.

You should feel exposed. Vulnerable. You should feel small out here, with nothing to hide behind but night and moonlight. Monsters do walk the earth. But right now, with his hands on your skin and his mouth pressed to your shoulder, none of that feels real.

All you feel is him. And all you feel is you're with him.

When you’re both down to your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours and gently pulls you toward the water. Your clothes lie scattered behind you, his backpack nearby, forgotten in the hush of it all.

You let out a quiet gasp the moment the water touches your skin. It’s colder than you expected, sharp enough to steal your breath. Beomgyu hears it and a boyish smile blooms on his face like it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

You both begin to move, letting the river cling to your bodies. You dip your hands into it, run it through your hair, over your arms. Beomgyu steps in closer and helps you, brushing wet strands from your face, smoothing water over your shoulders with slow, open palms. He never stops smiling.

He's painfully, achingly beautiful.

You can't stop looking at him. Even like this — drenched, flushed, eyes shining, you couldn't believe he's here. With you.

Then, in the hush, his voice cuts through the air. “Do you know how much I love you?”

You freeze. Your heart kicks up, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. You snap your hand over his mouth, eyes wide, panic flooding your chest. He’s not supposed to speak. You both know that. Your breath quickens. His eyes search yours, calm even as yours fill with fear. Then, with both hands, he gently pulls yours away from his mouth. And shouts.

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU.”

You gasp, the sound sharp, almost wounded. It slips out before you can catch it. The fear floods you so fast it feels like drowning — your chest tightens, your eyes flick to every corner of the dark, waiting for something awful to rise from it.

But Beomgyu is already there.

His arms find you, pulling you close, wrapping around your body like he’s trying to shield you from the night itself. His voice is low, calm, pressed right against your ear. “Shh… baby, it’s okay,” he whispers, steady and warm, even as your heart races. “They won’t hear us. Not with the river this loud. I promise.”

You try to believe him, but your body won’t let go of the panic. Your eyes keep searching, flicking past him to the trees, the edges, the places where darkness pools. He sees it — every trace of it. His hands slide up to your face, cradling you gently, and he turns your gaze back to him.

“Look at me,” he says, quiet but firm. “Baby, look at me.”

He holds your face like it’s something breakable. Like you’re something precious. His eyes are full of everything, “I’m here,” he says, and his voice wavers. “You can speak here. With me. It’s safe.”

You didn’t expect those words to undo you.

But they do.

Tears rise fast, burning at the edges of your eyes before you can blink them away. Your chest caves in, your breath catching on a sob that doesn’t quite make it out, because it’s not just the fear — but it's the feel of safety. His lips press to your temple, over and over, slow and steady, like he’s kissing every thought away. Every fear. Every shadow.

“Beomgyu.” Of all the things you could’ve said, it's the only thing that makes out of your lips and he hears it. He holds you tighter, arms locking around you like he can feel the way you’re coming apart. Like he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, barely audible. “I’ve always got you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like the old you again.

Not the one shaped by fear. Not the one always looking over their shoulder, waiting for the world to crack open, but the version of you that could breathe without flinching. The one that could laugh without guilt. The one that still believed in softness, in safety, in being held without needing to run.

You think about his plan. You see him on that island. Sunlight in his hair. Laughter in his mouth. His hand still in yours. You see quiet mornings. Salt in the air. Your child running through the sand.

It surprises you — how quickly it comes back. How easily Beomgyu pulls it from wherever it’s been buried. Just by being here. Just by looking at you like you’re still whole. You rest your forehead against his, still trembling, still wet with tears, but lighter, like some part of you had been locked away and he just found the key without even trying.

His thumb brushes your cheek.

You rise onto your toes and kiss him lightly, a whisper against his mouth. He answers with a groan, his hands, already firm around your waist, tighten, drawing you closer. Your bodies press together, water running down your skin.

It all blurs after that.

You don’t remember how he led you out of the river, or when your feet touched dry earth again. All you know is the feeling of his mouth never straying far from yours, his hands guiding you with quiet urgency, his breath tangled with yours. You feel the soft fabric of your clothes beneath your back, a supposed anchor on the ground, but it’s him that keeps you from floating.

His kisses come fast, deep, like he’s afraid to stop. You try to pull back to catch your breath, your lips swollen and wet, but he finds you again instantly, like your mouth is the only place he knows how to go. You breathe through your nose, one hand on his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair, holding him close even as you try to steady yourself. It’s overwhelming — how much he wants you, how much he loves you, how much he means it.

“Beomgyu…” You moaned as you clenched your fist on his dark locks. His tongue was doing to your buds as his fingers part your wet folds. Your legs quivered as his tongue lapped at your entrance.

Beomgyu grunts as he hears your soft moans, sucking on your clit to hear more. Your taste in his mouth got him drunk as he shook his head from side to side, making your moans go higher as you moved your hips to grind your wetness on his tongue. "Hmm?"

He pulled back, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing your wet clit as he kissed and sucked your inner thighs. Your eyes rolled back as your chest rose up and down, glistening with sweat.

You're fucking beautiful. Beomgyu thought as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. Your hooded eyes met his. The sight of your blushing cheeks, eyes asking for more with your lips between your teeth made Beomgyu slightly rut his hips on the bed.

“Out here?” You asked. He pumped a finger inside your pussy, curling it to hit your spot as he put his mouth back to work again, flattening his tongue over your swollen pearl before flicking it with the tip. You cried out in pleasure, throwing your head back. “Shit,”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I just couldn't help myself.” He begged as he doubled the finger inside your soaking cunt, making you cry out in pleasure as your hands gripped his steady shoulders. “I'll take care of you, okay?”

“I missed you.” He kissed your clit, making you whimper at the brief contact. He kissed your skin tracing everything. He kissed around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. He moved to your other nipple, lightly biting it while staring at your glossy eyes, making your breath hitch. He hummed as he sucked the pebbled flesh into his mouth, nibbling on it. Once satisfied, he pulls back, admiring your body as you panted. Your eyes are glistening, and so is your cunt. He groaned at the sight, pushing his hair back and palms his erected cock.

“Beomgyu, please…” You cried when Beomgyu started to rub his shaft on your slit. You're sensitive. Every time his head hits your bud, you let out a whimper, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide as you look up at him.

Beomgyu took his time, grunting before pushing the tip inside. You gasped, feeling his length invade you. Your walls fluttered around his cock, making him let out low growls. His other hand began rubbing circles on your clit to ease the burn from the stretch.

Beomgyu kissed your bracelet when he was entirely in. You look gorgeous underneath him. Legs wide open,mouth slightly parted, and body glistening under the dim lights of the moon.

Beomgyu started moving slowly when you nod your head, careful to not give any pressure to your stomach, until your whimpers turned into moans. His name echoed in whispers, as you clawed on the skin of his back, leaving red marks. He was cradling your head, and his lips pressed on your ear. He was whispering the sweetest things to you.

“You’re made for me. You were made for me that I couldn't stop thinking about you everyday we were apart.” Beomgyu growled, kissing your ear lobes.

“Yes, yes, Beomgyu, please… I've missed you so much.” You begged as his hips started to thrust harder into you.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, feeling your walls clench around him. He could tell that you were both close. Your walls spasmed around him, and his thrust started to stutter.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He stared into your eyes, feeling your orgasm take over your body. His mouth reaches for your sweet lips, your toes curling as your legs wrap around his waist. Beomgyu spilled his load inside you.

The world feels soft.

Beomgyu laughs — just a breath of it, barely a sound. He’s looking at you, eyes warm and shining, hair a mess. There's a smile on your lips, one that you know wouldn't go away anytime soon. “I think we should probably wash again,”

You let out a shaky laugh of your own, nodding slowly. “Yeah… probably.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you again, quick and sweet this time, before pulling himself up and reaching for your hand. You take it, and he helps you stand. The grass sticks to your skin. You both look like a mess.

A beautiful, completely loved mess.

Beomgyu keeps close, brushing his hands over your back, your shoulders, helping you rinse off with the same kind of careful attention he always gives you. Even now, even after everything, he still wants to take care of you. You splash a bit of water at him, half on accident, half on purpose, and the way he laughs makes your chest ache. In the middle of a broken world, you found something that made you forget.

If you had known what the morning would bring, if you had even caught a glimpse of it, you would’ve clawed your way out and screamed for him to stop. You would’ve gripped his face in your hands and told him no.

You would’ve begged him to stay.

You're jolted awake by a rough, urgent shake.

A gasp escapes your lips as your eyes fly open, meeting Beomgyu’s — wide and panicked. He doesn’t say a word, just presses a finger to his mouth. You hear shuffling somewhere nearby, feet scuffing the floor. The sound drags you fully upright as Beomgyu hauls you to your feet.

Yeonjun’s voice cuts through the dark, you don’t catch the words, but the tension in his tone curls around your chest. You feel your heart pounding at your back, thudding like footsteps too close behind.

You’re confused. You’re supposed to be asleep. Supposed to wake up with the sun, gather your things, and head for the island like you planned. So why are you being woken up now?

“Hey,” Beomgyu whispers, leaning in close. “We need to move. Now. Stay right next to me. Don’t let go.” You nod, too scared to speak.

You slip out of the room, makeshift curtains brushing against your arms like ghosts. Your breath catches as your eyes land on a man standing at the entrance to the basement, someone you've never seen before.

An intruder.

His eyes are wide. There's dirt on his clothes, blood maybe, and in his shaking hand, he holds a gun. In one swift movement, Beomgyu steps in front of you, shielding you completely from view. His body becomes a wall.

"Leave now," the man growls. His voice is rough, edged with fear. "Or I’ll fucking shoot."

Soobin’s voice rises from somewhere to your right, “And bring every monster straight to us?” He takes a careful step forward. “We’ll leave. You can have this place, just put the gun down.”

“Where are you going?” the man demands, pointing the gun. “Tell me.” His voice is unsteady, laced with paranoia. His eyes flick from face to face, wild and unfocused. “Do I have to kill you all?” he mutters, almost to himself. “You’ll know I’m here. You’ll all know. Food, food’s making everyone lose their minds. I have to kill you.”

His finger twitches. The click of the gun being cocked cuts through the room like a blade.

“No!” Soobin shouts. In a flash, Yeonjun lunges forward, slamming into the man. They hit the ground hard, bodies twisting, the gun scraping against the floor.

“Fuck — stop it!” someone yells. It might be Beomgyu. It might be you. You don’t know. You’re shaking. Your legs won’t hold steady, all you know is Beomgyu grabbed your hand, pulling you back, pulling you away.

The gun goes off. For a moment, everything stops. The sound still ringing in your ears, but the basement has fallen into a dead, ringing silence.

The door is wide open. You don’t have to be told — they’re coming. They heard it.

You stumble to the side, eyes scanning the room. The stranger lies crumpled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. Yeonjun’s hands are still pressed to the man’s neck, trembling. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Soobin—”

You turn and see Soobin clutching his thigh, blood seeping through his fingers. His face is pale, jaw clenched tight as he leans into the wall for support.

“They heard that,” you say. “The monsters. We need to move. Now.”

Beomgyu pulls you forward, stumbling through the basement entrance as the first screech slices through the night. It's not far. It's too close. Your chest feels like it might cave in. Behind you, Soobin’s limping, dragging his leg. Blood streaks down his thigh, every step a raw, gritted miracle. Yeonjun is practically holding him up, jaw clenched.

You turn to Beomgyu. “Help them.” He pauses, eyes locking with yours, hesitation written all over his face. Fear.

"Go," you whisper again, voice cracking. “Please.”

Soobin sees Beomgyu step in to help, “Fuck No,” he growls. “Don’t even fucking think about it. Take her and go.”

“You’re bleeding out,” Beomgyu fires back. “I’m not leaving you like this.”

“You will,” Soobin spits, swaying. “Y/N is the one who matters. You know that. We’re dead weight. If you stay, she dies too. They will die too.”

You want to scream at him. To punch him. To beg him to shut up and run, instead, your voice comes out hollow. “Don’t do this.”

“We’ll find you,” Yeonjun looks at you. “Just—keep going. If we’re not at the docks in thirty minutes…” He doesn’t finish.

The next screech tears through the trees.

Soobin pushes Beomgyu with what strength he has left. “GO! We'll die here.”

You shake your head, barely able to breathe as your body trembles beneath the weight of what’s happening. Beomgyu’s hand wraps around yours, tugging —pulling you away but your feet refuse to move.

Your eyes stay locked on them.

On the two people who’ve saved you more times than you can count. Who shielded you when the world was falling apart. Soobin is barely standing now, blood soaking through his pants, the stain growing darker with every step. You know what that means. Without help, without first aid, without a blood transfusion — he won’t make it.

You know it like a law of nature.

Yeonjun catches your stare. He holds your gaze, and in his eyes, you see no plan but one truth. He’s not letting Soobin die alone.

The tears come faster now, hot and aching, slipping down your face like they’re trying to carve the grief into your skin. You want to hold it in — to bite your tongue, to stay composed, to be the version of yourself they would’ve needed but something in you breaks.

You remember Soobin’s soft, tired smile as he passed you his last piece of bread. The way Yeonjun would nudge you during tense nights just to remind you he was still there. You remember the warmth of their presence when everything else was cold and cruel. You remember laughing with them once.

Would you have been friends if the world hadn’t ended? If you met in some ordinary place with clean air and normal lives? Would Soobin still have been loud and protective, would Yeonjun still have had that steadiness that made you feel safe? Would they still have chosen you?

Would you have been friends?

Your chest crumples, folding inward under the weight of guilt and sorrow you weren’t ready to carry. You hate yourself for it — for moving, for breathing, for leaving when all you want is to run back and hold onto them until the monsters take you too. How do you live with this? How do you keep going when you know the last thing they saw was you, walking away?

Beomgyu’s hand is still in yours. Tight. It was as if he could read your mind. He pulls you forward. You take one last look at the place that held the only people who made you feel safe.

They don't look at you.

The boat rocks beneath you, a fragile cradle adrift in an endless stretch of black water. It creaks softly, as though mourning its own presence in this place. All around, the lake swallows light and sound alike, vast and terrible. The moon hangs overhead; distant, cold, and half-hidden behind slow-moving clouds, offering only the faintest glow, just enough to paint a silver line across the rippling surface.

Beomgyu crouches near the motor, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. His fingers tremble as they fumble with the ignition. You see the way his shoulders curl inward, how his body fights the cold and the fear. Each breath he draws fogs the air like a whisper of everything unsaid between you.

A violent jerk. The motor snarls to life. A metallic scream that shatters the silence, ripping through the night like a wound torn open too fast.

From across the water, something shrieks. It’s high-pitched, keening, filled with something ancient and wrong. The sound claws at your spine, drags your heart into your throat. Beomgyu swears, as he slams the switch off. The motor stutters, dies. Silence crashes back down, heavier than before, suffocating.

He turns to you. His face is pale, eyes wide, wild, but not breaking. There’s something in his expression: an apology, a promise, a plea.

He’s scared.

Your throat closes. You shake your head, violently, as if you can shake away the sound, the cold, the truth. Tears burn hot as they spill down your cheeks, turning everything to watercolor — his face, the sky, the glint of water around you. “No,” you whisper, then louder. “No. No. No.”

He cups your face in both hands. His touch is gentle but urgent, like he’s trying to memorize you through his fingertips. His thumbs brush away the tears even as more fall. He leans in until his forehead rests against yours, his breath shallow, his voice barely a whisper.

“Listen to me,” he says, as if you’re the only thing left in the world worth speaking to. “The lighthouse. If I set off the alarm, they’ll come to it. All of them. It’s the only way.” His voice cracks, but he doesn’t pull back. “I promise I’ll come back to you. As soon as I can. Okay?”

You can’t breathe.

You’re drowning on dry land, lungs stuttering in your chest. Your hand flies to your mouth, stifling a sob that wants to tear its way free. Your shoulders shake, and you’re shaking your head, hard, as if denial could somehow become magic, could rewrite this moment, this choice. Could unmake the dark.

He grabs your shoulders now, steadying you, grounding you. You feel the strength in his grip, but it’s the fear underneath it that nearly undoes you.

“I’ll come back,” he says again, softer now. Like a lullaby meant to soothe a child before the storm hits. “I swear it. I’ll just set the alarm. That’s all. I’ll be fast. It’s only a monster or two, right?” He tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s loud enough — they’ll follow it. They always do.”

You’re gasping, shoulders heaving, eyes wide with terror. You reach for him, mouthing please, please, like a prayer torn from your soul, like the word alone could hold him here with you.

“Turn on the motor,” he says, voice barely above the sound of the water lapping against the boat. “Wait until I set it off. Then you go.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the word scraping out of you like glass. “No.” It’s barely a sound, a whimper with nothing behind it but pain. He leans in again, presses a trembling hand to your chest, right over your heart. You can feel the heat of him, the pulse in his palm, how human he is and how fragile.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he whispers, like it’s a truth that can live beyond this night. “I’ll always be with you.”

Then his voice breaks. Just for a moment. A single crack that shatters everything. “Do it for me. Do it for our child.” he says, eyes glistening now. “Please. Can you promise me that?”

You want to scream. You want to grab him, hold him, drag him back into the boat and never let go. You want to tear the sky open, to rage at whatever gods let this happen, but all you can do is shake.

Tears stream down your face, silent and relentless. Panic floods your lungs, thick and sharp, suffocating you from the inside.

It’s small. Weak. A terrified, shaking nod that you gave him.

It’s enough for him.

Beomgyu leans in, pressing a trembling kiss to your forehead. His hands come to rest on your stomach, fingers splayed, clinging to the shape of a future he’s terrified of losing. His breath stutters as he closes his eyes, trying to hold himself together, trying to find the courage to do what he must.

He thinks of you, every night you held him when the world felt too heavy, every morning he woke to your warmth, your voice, your smile. He thinks of the moment he first saw you, how everything shifted. And now, he thinks of the tiny heartbeat beneath his palms. His baby. The life you made together. His throat burns. He doesn’t want to go.

He doesn’t want to leave.

He doesn’t want to leave you.

When he looks at you again, his eyes are glassy, his jaw clenched like he's fighting something inside himself. For a second, he looks like he might undo it all. Like he might fall to his knees, beg forgiveness for even thinking of leaving. You see it in the way his mouth opens, closes. The way his fingers twitch against your skin.

He exhales, as if he was surrendering.

He runs.

His feet hit the dock, loud and jarring against the soaked wood. You watch his silhouette stretch, then blur, then vanish into the fog, swallowed whole by the night. Your body wanted to run after him.

The motor is silent, the water uncaring. Your sobs fill the space he left behind. You cover your mouth with both hands, curling in on yourself, choking on everything you can’t say.

Grief doesn’t care about survival.

Out in the distance, the lighthouse looms — a black tower against a blacker sky. A smudge of shadow, barely visible through the fog.

The siren starts.

It erupts without warning, a scream of metal and wind, a shriek that splits the night down its spine. It wails — long, unrelenting, merciless. A sound made to summon death.

The monsters answer.

You hear them first — screeches rising from the treeline and the water’s edge, inhuman and furious. Then you see them. Dozens. Maybe more. Crawling from the dark, leaping like shadows pulled by strings, limbs too long. They move toward the sound, toward the light.

Toward him.

Drawn like moths to flame.

You’re frozen. Paralyzed in the center of the rocking boat, breath locked in your lungs. The siren still echoes in your ears, though it's fading now — its afterimage seared into your mind like lightning behind your eyelids.

It stops.

The alarm cuts out mid-wail, a guillotine of silence. The absence of sound is deafening, unnatural. And you know.

You know what it means.

Your body doesn’t move, can’t move. Only your eyes, wide and glassy, locked on the lighthouse in the distance. Come on. Come out now. You can't even speak his name.

Dark shapes twist and writhe around it — shadows crawling over stone, blotting out the structure in violent waves. The creatures consumed. You watch helplessly as they pour over every surface, spilling like oil, thick and writhing, until the tower looks like it's bleeding darkness. Your heart stops.

Do it for me. Do it for our child.

Please. Can you promise me that?

Can you promise me that?

You kick the motor. Hard.

It roars to life with a scream like tearing metal. The boat lurches forward violently, cutting through the water. The fog whips past you, moonlight slicing in thin ribbons across the surface. Your sobs vanish in the sound. Swallowed by the engine, the waves, the night.

Why did you let him go? You knew this wouldn’t save him. You knew. So why? You should’ve held on tighter. You should’ve clung to him like your life depended on it because it did. You should’ve buried your face in his chest. Why did you let him go?

Tears stream down your face, hot and constant, your hands white-knuckled on the controls. You’re not steering toward hope, you’re fleeing from loss. From the truth that’s clawing through your chest like something trying to escape, because you weren’t just leaving the lighthouse. You were leaving your heart behind.

You were leaving him.

“Where were you?” you asked, reaching over to grab the strawberry from the basket on the kitchen table. Beomgyu’s chuckle filled the room. “I went drinking with Taehyun and Kai. Just a light drink,” he said casually, his hand brushing your shoulder as he passed behind you to grab a plate.

“Why? Did you miss your husband?” he teased, carefully plating the food before setting it down in front of you.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You wish.”

He chuckled, handing you a spoon and fork before moving around the kitchen. A tall glass appeared on the table next to your plate and he poured you water.

“Did she miss me too?” Beomgyu’s voice was soft, almost tentative, drawing your gaze upward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were caught in the tenderness there. It made your heart ache in that way only he could.

“She?” You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you swallowed. “What makes you so sure it's a girl?” Your hand instinctively brushed over your stomach as a quiet smile softened your face. The thought of your little one—boy or girl—filled you with a warmth you couldn’t quite put into words.

“I just feel it,” A small smile flickered across his lips, “What if we get twins?”

You looked down, your thoughts wandering to tiny clothes, little shoes scattered across the floor, and pastel-painted walls filled with light and laughter. “That would be… amazing,” you murmured.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Beomgyu pulling out the chair beside you. He sat down at first, but then, almost as if drawn closer by some unseen force, he shifted. You felt his gaze before you saw him—soft, unwavering, and filled with a kind of awe that made your chest tighten.

“That sounds nice, two little you running around.” he breathed, his voice almost a whisper. His hand reached out slowly, brushing against your stomach. You set down your utensils, giving him a soft nod as you shifted slightly, allowing him more access.

Beomgyu lowered himself onto his knees in front of you, his large hands resting gently on either side of your growing belly. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment before he let out a long, steady breath. Then, with a tenderness that made your throat tighten, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against your stomach.

“Daddy loves you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. He sounded so vulnerable, so small. His lips pressed softly against your stomach. And then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face against you.

Your hand moved instinctively, threading through his soft hair with slow, soothing strokes. He pulled you closer, as though being near you could quiet the storm in his heart. Your fingers trailed down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down his back.

In your dream, you were cradling a baby to your chest, its tiny body safe in your arms. Beomgyu leaned down, smiling widely as you do.

You sat there, staring at nothing. Your face hollow, your eyes dry. You don’t know how long the boat’s been still, you only know it stopped. You must’ve reached the island, but you don’t care.

He's not here.

You don’t remember standing.

One minute you’re sitting there, still and silent, and the next your feet are moving — stiff, like they don’t belong to you. The dock creaks under you as you step off the boat, but even that sound feels distant, like it’s happening to someone else. Trees sway in the wind.

He’s not here.

The ground feels too solid, like it’s mocking you. You stare at your hands, like maybe they’ll stop shaking. You keep walking, because what else is there to do?

One foot in front of the other. The boat pulls away behind you.

He’s not here.

You spot a cabin ahead. A small, weathered thing nestled between the trees—and suddenly, you remember his hunches. He knew this place. He was right. He was always right.

You push the door open. It creaks under your hand. Inside, it’s cramped, barely furnished, but it’s enough. You exhale. For a moment, the silence almost feels like peace.

He’s not here.

“What am I supposed to do now?” The words escape you in a whisper before panic takes hold. Your breath catches, short and ragged, and soon you're gasping. Your chest convulses with sobs you can't control. A scream tears from your throat. You hurl your backpack to the ground. It thuds against the floor. Rage spills out in curses, flung at the walls, at the stillness, at the unbearable absence. You grip your hair, trembling, and begin to rock, trying to hold yourself together as everything else breaks apart.

“You told me…” The words tore from your throat, ragged and broken. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you screamed into the emptiness, hollowed out by the ache twisting through your chest. “You told me you’d come back.”

You cried, long after your voice gave out and your body folded in on itself. Arms wrapped tight around your ribs, as if holding yourself could keep you from falling apart entirely. Your face was hot and swollen, eyes raw from the endless wave of tears.

Again and again, you called his name.

The only sounds are your own ragged sobs and the shallow breaths you no longer want to take. Each inhale feels like a betrayal, each exhale a reminder that you’re the only one alive.

You curled into a fetal position, lost in the tide of your thoughts, barely noticing as the light fades. At some point, the sun slipped beneath the horizon. Now, darkness presses against the windows, and still, you haven’t stirred. The world outside continues on, but in here, time doesn’t move. You don’t move.

Your stomach growls, a hollow, aching sound that reminds you how long it’s been.

You shift to your right, slow and heavy, and your eyes land on your backpack — the one you threw in a fit of something you couldn’t name. It sits there, slouched and half-open, like it gave up, too.Things spill out from the top. Torn corners, bandages, small bottles rattling inside a plastic pouch.

Your chest tightens.

Beomgyu packed it. Every piece. He had gone over it with you more than once, made sure you understood; this is how you clean a wound, this is what you take when your fever spikes, this is what you plant when there’s nothing left. You swallow hard.

Something else is there. Tucked just beneath the flap, barely visible. Something you don’t remember. Something he never mentioned, and before you can even think about it, your body moves on its own. You’re already pushing yourself up, legs unsteady, heart in your throat. You open it, your hands trembling around the edges of a notebook you don’t remember packing.

The pages fall open easily, worn from use. Every single one is filled.

His handwriting. Small, uneven. Rushed, but careful in the way only Beomgyu could be when he was trying to pretend he wasn’t scared. Instructions. Notes. How to plant seeds. When to water them. How to tell when a crop’s gone bad. How to clean water when there’s nothing clean left. How to fish with a line or with nothing at all. How to start a fire even in the rain.

And then, childbirth.

You stare. The words blur. His cramped, chaotic scrawls turn into something wet and aching in your eyes. You let out a breath, shaky and cracked. “Idiot,” you whisper, choking on the sound. “As if you were waiting to die for me.”

The pages tremble as you turn them, one by one, until you reach the end.

The last page. The words there are scrambled, rushed, overlapping like he couldn’t write them fast enough. Your eyes scan them and then your breath catches.

hi, baby.

this might be stupid. really stupid but i couldn’t sleep and i kept thinking... what if? so i wrote this. not because i want you to read it. god, i hope you never do. but just in case. just in case

i’ve seen this kind of thing in movies. the husband leaves a letter, the wife reads it when he’s gone, and everyone cries. that’s not real, right? that’s just a story. …right? i hated it when the wife is alone and she cries alone.

it’s breaking my heart to even think about you reading this. to imagine you alone, holding this, looking for me and not finding me. but tonight, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking until i wrote it.

maybe you’ll need it. maybe something will happen. maybe i’m already gone.

and if i am, i’m so fucking sorry.

you have to know... it would have taken everything in me to walk away from you. if i left, it wasn’t because i wanted to. it was because i had no choice and even then, i wouldn’t have done it without thinking of you every single step. it's not because of you, it's because i wanted to do it for you. it's all me. it's all me okay?

you’ll cry. i know you will. and it kills me, it kills me to think of you hurting. i know how deeply you love. it’s one of the first things i ever adored about you. but please, don’t let it break you. don’t let it swallow you whole, because if i could see you now, if i could hold you one last time, i’d beg you to keep going.

i love you. i love you so much it hurts. i don’t know how to put it into words that feel big enough.

i hope you never need this letter. i hope this just ends up being some stupid, crumpled piece of paper you find years from now and laugh at. i hope i’m just being overdramatic, writing in the dark, because i miss you too much.

if not, if this is the last thing i ever give you.....

then know this: i have no regrets. you gave me a reason to live, and if i can’t be there anymore, you living will be the only reason i can rest.

i love you, wife. i will always, always love you.

and wherever i am, wherever you are — i’ll always be with you.

i swear it.

ps: don't cry too much, okay?

Your hands tremble as you finish reading the letter your husband left behind. Tears spill down your cheeks, stinging your swollen eyes. You clutch the letter to your chest like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, his words still echoing in your mind, sinking deeper with every breath you take. You can barely breathe. You whisper his name in broken sobs, your voice shaking.

“Beomgyu…” His name falls from your lips like a prayer. The words he wrote — those last, aching pieces of his heart — are now etched into yours, carved so deep they’ll never leave.

Choi Beomgyu had loved you until his very last breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words cracking in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ‘Gyu…” You say it again and again, as if some god might hear. As if apologies might bend time and undo death.

As if loving him hard enough, hurting deeply enough, could bring him back to you.

You kneel in the dirt with hands blistered from days of digging. The morning sun is sharp, too bright, like it doesn’t know how much you’ve lost. But you let it burn your skin. It’s easier than thinking.

You unfold the notebook beside you, Beomgyu’s handwriting smudged from when your tears fell on it the first time. He had drawn a simple diagram, barely legible, labeled: Keep corn away from potatoes. A small, crooked heart was doodled at the corner. You stare at it a second too long.

Your hands move, almost automatically, scooping soil, pressing the seeds in just like he wrote. Cover. Water. Pray they grow. You do it again, and again. Row by row. Your knees ache. Your back screams. But you keep going, because he made sure you could.

Later, you find the animals.

Two pigs and a limping cow, left behind like forgotten ghosts. You lure them in with scraps, whisper soft apologies when they flinch. You build a pen from broken wood and wire, fingers bleeding, sweat mixing with dirt on your face. You name the cow Cloud. Beomgyu would’ve laughed at that.

The notebook stays tucked in your waistband now, always with you. You read the same page each morning like a prayer. You will make it. You will live.

So you do.

It’s always the same dream.

Beomgyu is humming. The soft kind he used to do when he didn’t know you were listening. His arms are around you. You feel him breathe against your neck, whispering words that don’t quite form.

Then you blink, and he’s not there.

You wake up choking on a sob. The world is pitch black around you, the fire long since burned out. Your chest rises and falls too fast. You curl into yourself, wrapping your arms around your belly, shaking.

“Beomgyu,” you whisper, barely a voice at all. “Please, just one more night.”

But only the wind answers. A bird calls from somewhere in the trees. You press your palm to where he was supposed sleep beside you, and the cold there is unbearable.

You cry until you forget why you started.

The pain starts at dawn.

You’re bent over the table sorting dried herbs when it hits — a sharp, deep wrenching that doubles you over. You gasp, grabbing the edge of the table, your breath coming fast.

You stagger to the bed. The mattress is lumpy, stuffed with straw and old cloth. You lie down, sweat slicking your forehead, trying to remember what Beomgyu wrote.

Breathe. Stay low to the ground. Keep clean towels nearby. Boil water.

You crawl to the pot. Heat the stove. Prepare, just like the notebook said. The hours stretch long and cruel. You scream once, twice. Bite down on cloth. You curse him for leaving you. You beg him to come back. The contractions come like waves, each one pulling you under.

Then, finally, a cry. So small. So soft.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until you hold them in your arms. The baby is warm. Real. Alive. You’re sobbing, loud and wild and cracked open. It's a girl, just like he predicted. Just like what he wanted.

You press your cheek to theirs, whispering over and over: We made it. We made it.

Outside, the sun begins to rise again.

The baby’s cries used to feel like thunder in your skull, loud and jarring, each sound a reminder that Beomgyu wasn’t here to hear them too.

Now, weeks later, you move before she even wakes fully. You don’t think. You just rise, gently lift her into your arms, press your nose into the wisps of hair that smell like earth and warmth and something clean. You hum to her, a tune you don’t remember learning.

You think Beomgyu might’ve hummed it first.

You still cry some nights, quietly. You talk to her, tell her about the day’s weather, the crops coming in slower than you hoped, the time the pig got loose and ran through the garden. Your voice cracks sometimes, but you speak anyway. You plant with her strapped to your chest. You sing while washing her clothes. You braid dried grass into little toys and pretend you're doing it just to pass time — though truthfully, you like watching her fingers wrap around them.

You’re not okay, but you’re not drowning anymore.

She’s almost a year now.

Not walking yet, but strong enough to push herself up and reach for things she shouldn’t. Her eyes are too familiar —s harp and round, framed by lashes that look exactly like Beomgyu’s. Her mouth even curves the same way when she cries.

You avoid looking at her for too long.

There’s a guilt that rises in your chest every time you hold her. Like you’re stealing a future Beomgyu never got to finish. Sometimes you hold her at a distance, like something fragile you don’t know how to care for. She doesn’t notice. Not yet. But you feel it. You feel it deeply.

That night, the dream returns. He’s there — Beomgyu. Sitting beside the old garden, barefoot, smiling like it never hurt. You fall into his arms and start sobbing without saying anything. He doesn’t say much either. Just rubs your back like he used to.

When you pull away, he points at something behind you.

You turn and there she is, your daughter. Looking right at you. Beomgyu kneels beside her and whispers something. You don’t hear the words, but when you look again, her name forms in your mouth.

Beomgyu loved sunlight.

You wake up gasping, cheeks soaked.

You stumble into the next room, where she’s sleeping curled in a blanket. You fall to your knees beside her, trembling. “Your name is… your name is Hayeon,” you whisper, like it’s the first truth you’ve spoken in months. “That’s what your father called you.”

And for the first time since she was born, you really see her. Your hands don’t shake this time when you touched her. You sob into her tiny shoulder, pressing your lips to her skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

The next morning, the sky is heavy with clouds, but no rain comes.

You sit on the step outside the cabin, Hayeon nestled in your lap. She babbles nonsense, pressing her palm to your chin and tugging at your collar like she owns you.

You let her.

“I didn’t know how to be your mom,” you say aloud, voice barely audible over the wind. “I didn’t know how to breathe without him. I didn’t know how to… look at you.” She doesn’t understand. Of course she doesn’t. But you say it anyway, because maybe you need to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, firmer this time. “For not being there. For looking away. You didn’t deserve that.”

You press your cheek to her temple. She laughs at nothing, and for a moment, your chest feels light. “You look just like him,” you whisper. “But I think your soul is yours.”

You started waking up with the will to do so.

“Hayeon, don’t go off too far,” you call, voice light but firm.

She doesn’t answer—at least not in words. Just a bright giggle, shrill and wild, carried on the wind. Her little boots slap against the dirt path as she chases a yellow butterfly between rows of sprouting greens. You see her leap over a patch of tomatoes, arms flailing, hair flying behind her like smoke in sunlight.

You watch her from the bench outside the cabin, your back resting against the worn wood. There’s a basin of laundry beside you, half-finished. The sun’s warm against your face. You let it linger.

You smile, quiet and soft, like it belongs to a version of you that’s finally starting to return.

He would’ve loved it here.

You think that more often these days. Not with the same ache. Not like a wound reopening. But like a truth. A gentle one. Beomgyu would’ve loved the garden coming to life, the way the wind combs through the trees, how the ocean hums just beyond the hills. He would’ve sat here beside you, probably building some dumb little scarecrow with Hayeon and naming it after something ridiculous.

He would’ve made her laugh until she hiccupped.

You imagine him crouched next to her, showing her how to water the seedlings without drowning them. Teaching her to whistle. Drawing shapes in the dirt just to see her copy them. You watch her fall onto her knees, gasping with laughter as the butterfly flutters out of reach. She claps her hands, delighted anyway. You feel your heart stretch with something like peace.

She’s safe. She’s growing. She’s happy.

You remember the first time she asked about him.

The stars are out tonight.

The sky’s painted in deep indigo, scattered with tiny, blinking lights. You’re sitting on the porch steps, your arms wrapped around Hayeon, who’s nestled against your side, thumb resting near her mouth the way she does when she’s tired but too curious to sleep. The wind is gentle, brushing through the trees, stirring the hem of your dress.

She’s quiet for a while. Just breathing, head resting on your shoulder, small chest rising and falling. You think she’s about to fall asleep.

Then softly, barely more than a murmur she says, “Mama… what was my dad like?”

The words land like a pebble in still water. Everything shifts. You don’t move at first. Your breath stills. It’s the question you’ve been waiting for. Slowly, you turn your head to look at her. Her eyes are open, wide and soft, glinting with the starlight.

You take a shaky breath.

“Your dad…” you begin, voice almost breaking. “He was kind. The kind of kind that made you feel safe just by being next to him.”

Hayeon listens silently, thumb dropping from her lips.

“He was funny, too. He used to make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. He’d do the dumbest impressions, or start dancing in the middle of nowhere, just to see me smile.” You close your eyes for a moment. You can see him again — arms flailing in the garden, lips pursed in mock seriousness, Hayeon’s laugh echoing over a memory that never got to exist.

“He was brave,” you whisper. “He stayed brave, even when the world was falling apart.”

A silence settles.

“Did he love me?” she asks.

You look at her fully now, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“More than anything,” you say. “Even before you were born, he loved you. He wrote about you in his notebook. He dreamed about you. He… he wanted so badly to meet you.”

You feel tears rise, but you don’t let them fall. “He didn’t get to stay,” you say gently, “but he left everything he could so we could live. He gave me the strength to raise you. To keep going.”

Hayeon leans in closer, silent. Then, in the smallest voice, she whispers. “I miss him.”

You feel the bracelet around your wrist, worn smooth from time and touch. You don’t have a picture of him. No frame to hold against your chest, no smile captured in ink, but you have this.

And somehow, it’s enough.

You look at your daughter; her face lit by the amber dusk, eyes squinting as she plays in the tall grass, wind tugging at her hair. An image of him. The same jaw. The same shape of her hands. The same spark in her laugh when she runs.

She used to haunt you.

Now, she anchors you — pulls you back to earth when you wake up gasping, when you reach across the bed and feel only emptiness. She pulls you through the dark.

Someday, you’ll pass the bracelet on to her. So she’ll have a piece of him too. So she’ll know that he was real. That he loved so hard, it made life possible even after he was gone.

You're scared of forgetting him.

The sky looks softer now. The air is light. You close your eyes and breathe in deep.

Your voice shakes as you speak, “If you’re out there… are you out there?” You pause, tears catching on your lashes. “Just like you said you would be?”

Your fingers press gently to the bracelet, the metal warm against your skin. “I want you to know, we’re safe. Because of you.” You bite your lip. “Because you made it possible. It was all because of you.”

A long silence. A bird calls in the distance. Your daughter laughs again, far away. You smile, even as your voice breaks.

“I’ll see you again,” you whisper. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

The wind moves through the trees — soft, almost like a hand brushing your shoulder.

Almost like he heard you.

You'll be okay.

epilogue

The morning mist clings to the surface of the sea, curling around the shoreline like a secret not yet spoken. You wake to the sound of waves lapping against the dock but there’s something else, too. A low hum.

A boat.

Still half-asleep, you rise and step outside, the wood cool beneath your feet. The sky is pale, painted in hushed pastels. The sea stretches, but you spot it. Your breath catches.

There’s a figure on board.

He raises a hand, waving toward you with calm familiarity, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. There’s warmth in it.

Your lips curve into a wide smile. Your eyes burn.

The sea glitters between you, endless and wide.

taglist: @heesmiles , @lovingbeomgyudayone , @virtaideen , @hyukascampfire , @fancypeacepersona , @bamgeutori , @lilbrorufr , @beomieeeeeeeeeeees , @xylatox , @yunverie , @imlonelydontsendhelp , @moagyuu , @immelissaaa , @readinmidnight , @pagelets , @wonderstrucktae , @boba-beom , @seodami , @izzyy-stuff , @gyudollies , @i-am-not-dal , @page-isa , @tyunarisu , @s0urcherry , @lostgirlysstuff , @tinycatharsis , @randomheyl , @beomsdoll , @hanniehq , @run2gyuz , @prettypeachprincesz , @w0nderfulb1iss , @dedandelion , @demidelulu , @usuallyunlikelyfox , @raspberrii , @jellyyjn , @mrsjohnnysuh , @hyukaaa , @neobeomjii , @lumpynoofles , @taelerys , @haowonbins , @strawberryshoujosundae , @whoisgami , @sophiemoloney , @fatbixchwithanopinion , @fairfootedflekk

[sansculottides]

pisses me off to no end when people on reddit or whatever complain that the show wouldve been better off without the tuunbaq.....did we watch the same show? the tuunbaq is everything, it held everything together. the tuunbaq is the main transformative element of the terror. the tuunbaq elevates the text beyond mere historical fact and lets it say something about the expedition's broader context of imperialism. it hunted the british men who were trampling on its home as a mere stopover, a side casualty, to finding the northwest passage (for, you know, "trade with china" after britain beat china into submission after the imperialist opium war). silna couldnt complete a proper ritual with it because of the british men - just as british colonizers have historically intruded and disrupted the practice of indigenous culture. and in the end the tuunbaq dies, after all the injuries it's taken from the british over the course of 10 episodes and finally chokes to death on the worst of them. because there's no escaping the reality of colonial history, and there is especially no fantastical escape for the colonizer. there's no proper way for us to move forward otherwise.

good historical fiction doesnt have to limit itself to accuracy - it needs empathy to draw out meanings in history using literary craft. thats what the tuunbaq means to me.... if you wanted a straight depiction of historical record, just go watch a documentary.. TUUNBAQ DENIERS DNI

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔

🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️

summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?

warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 

The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 

Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 

“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.

Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”

Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”

“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 

Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”

Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”

The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’

Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 

The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 

You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.

You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 

You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”

Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”

Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.

You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 

Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”

You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 

Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.

You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.

You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.

You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 

“Leave now!” 

Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”

There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 

“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.

As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 

Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 

“Ari.” 

“Logan.” 

“Geralt.” 

They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”

Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”

You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 

Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 

“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.

The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.

You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.

You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 

A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 

“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 

Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 

“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 

Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 

“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.

You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.

“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”

“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 

Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 

“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 

He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it. 

“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 

Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.

“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.

“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 

“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 

“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 

You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 

Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 

The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 

Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 

His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 

Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 

Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 

Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 

…

Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 

Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 

“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 

You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 

“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 

You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 

Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 

You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 

After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 

That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”

You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 

Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 

You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 

Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?

Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 

“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 

Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 

“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 

“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 

Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 

The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 

Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 

The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 

“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 

“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 

You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 

“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 

“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 

You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 

Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 

Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 

Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 

“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 

Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.

The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 

“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 

“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.

“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 

“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 

You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 

Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 

You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.

You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 

The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.

The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 

The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.

Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 

They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  

Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 

You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[sanakiras]

BOUND BY BLOOD

PAIRING — yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

❝ WHO WILL YOU BE WHEN NO ONE CAN STOP YOU? ❞

WORD COUNT — 23k

SYNOPSIS — in an attempt to escape your past, you join your mother when she moves in with her soon-to-be husband at the other side of the country; the only downside being your new stepbrother, who causes you to sink deeper into the rabbit hole you were so desperately trying to leave behind.

TAGS — depictions of death, dark content (stepcest + incestuous undertones), mc and jeonghan are two fucked up pervs coming together to maximize their joint slay, explicit sexual content, red hair!jeonghan, author hates her fucking writing and is a raging perfectionist, do with this information what you will!

♪ — ethel cain - family tree,, charli xcx - apple,, ruelle - monsters,, boy harsher - pain,, lana del rey - in my feelings,, unloved - danger,, twin tribes - monolith,, banks - the fall

NOTE — title is not what u think it is i promise. do keep in mind that this is just fictional and nothing more than a silly idea i wanted to make into a story, so please (!) skip if the tags make you uncomfortable <3

PROLOGUE

when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.

joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”

his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.

“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.

tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”

jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”

but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”

“no. i swear to you—”

but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”

it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”

joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”

“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”

“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience?”

jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”

I. STRANGERS

[ SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER ]

your mother has always had a habit of moving from relationship to relationship. the passing of your father, which happened when you were too young to remember, left her trying to find something in the men around her you highly doubted she ever would.

but that changed a few weeks ago. because apparently, she’s finally found herself a man she wants to stay with. or so she told you. you’ll have to take her word for it.

the one wish of yours she’s always respected was to keep her boyfriends away from you — the last thing you wanted was some guy trying to be a father figure, and since her frequent relationships were often short-lived, there wasn’t really a point to getting to know them. seeing as you departed from home for your freshman year of college nearly two years ago, it’s no surprise that you were barely able to keep up with your mom’s romantic life.

when you arrived home for the summer break, she told you she finally found someone she was madly in love with, happily showing off the shiny diamond sitting on her finger. her fiancé is apparently some rich man living a few hours away, in a huge house at the outskirts of the city.

she initially didn’t expect or plan for you to come live there with her, nor for you to transfer to a different university, though she figured it must’ve been because of what happened last year.

nevertheless, she was happy to have you with her.

and now, two days before starting your third year at a different school, you’re seated in the backseat of the rolls-royce with your mother, and all you can do is stare out the window while the car pulls through the tall gates.

the place is even bigger than you were expecting — a manor straight out of the movies. the last sunbeams of august shine on your face through the glass window as you gaze to the outside.

well, you suppose living here for a little while before you find your own place isn’t the worst thing in the world.

you’ve only met your mother’s future husband once prior to the engagement. you remember he introduced himself as the owner of a successful international hotel franchise. he’s not too bad, clearly doing his best to not act like a father to you whilst simultaneously trying to show you that you’re more than welcome.

once you’ve arrived and said your greetings, your mother looks around for a moment. “where’s your son? is he inside?” she asks, but her fiancé sighs in disappointment.

“no, his flight was delayed, unfortunately, so he’s staying there for the night. he’ll be home tomorrow.”

right, you almost forgot. the fiancé has a son who’s a couple months younger than you, and since university is only twenty minutes away from the house, he still lives here as well.

yeah, you’re not looking too forward to meeting the guy. your mom hasn’t met him yet either, nor do you have any idea what he looks like, but from what she’s told you, he’s around your age, wicked smart, and friendly.

as you go inside the house, you quickly realize that your mother managed to land herself a man with a massive bank account. expensive chandeliers, marble tiled floors with big carpets that don’t have a speck of dirt on them, staff that’s taking your belongings upstairs — you’re impressed.

a member of said staff shows you to your room, which could honestly be considered an apartment, given its size. aside from the spacious bed that could easily fit three people, the room is decorated with dim lighting, big glass windows with a view of the courtyard, a fireplace, and your own private walk-in closet and bathroom.

well, shit. maybe you should just ask your mom if her future husband would pay your tuition as well.

despite getting to sleep in the most beautiful room you’ve ever seen, your first night in the manor is restless, and you arrive at university with tired eyes, hoping the caffeine will kick in soon.

traffic was so shitty that you’re now running late as well, so you rush to the elevators to get to your class in time.

you have a lecture scheduled on the seventh floor, yet you don’t see the number on the display, and you don’t particularly feel like walking up a ridiculous number of stairs.

“you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

you look down at your phone to see if you got the number right, only to be greeted by a guy with dark hair and tiny silver hoop earrings standing beside you, clearly looking you in the eye. “everything okay?”

“i just—i’m new, and i gotta get to the seventh floor, and i don’t understand why this elevator doesn’t go there—”

he quickly interrupts you. “we have two elevator blocks. this one is for even-numbered floors, you need the other one. c’mon, i’ll show you.”

you walk after him, passing two corners before getting to the elevators that take you to the odd-numbered floors. he presses the button, gesturing to the free elevator about to go up.

“thanks for the help. you got a class too?”

“yeah. ninth floor, though,” he replies, smiling at you, “i’m joshua, by the way.”

joshua’s hair is neatly gelled back with one or two strands hanging out at the front. you notice his slightly red lips, strong jawline, and gentle smile.

the door of the elevator opens again, and you realize you’ve already made it to your stop.

“sorry, i gotta go. it was nice meeting you.” you tell him before getting out, failing to introduce yourself.

you faintly hear him say bye as you head into the lecture hall, a big sigh escaping you once you’re finally seated.

your first day consists of a lecture of two hours followed by a regular class of three hours. the experience of a long first day in a constantly crowded space has made you both anxious and tired, so you go outside, stumbling upon a secluded spot between the buildings you’ve had class in today.

it’s the quietest place you’ve come across so far. it allows you to take a breather, a moment to yourself in the hot mess that’s been the past couple weeks, if not months.

although you don’t smoke often, you do have a pack of cigarettes sitting in your bag — and you find yourself reaching for it. unfortunately, your lighter doesn’t really seem to be working today, and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. “fucking hell—”

“you know that’s against the rules, right?”

when you look to the side, you spot some guy standing across from you, his hands sitting in his pockets as if he’s got all the time in the world to have this conversation with you.

a snarky reply works its way out of your throat. “what, you planning to rat me out?”

he pretends to think about it for a moment. “wouldn’t be a lot of fun if i did that, right?”

all you do is shrug your shoulders as you attempt to light your cigarette again, but he suddenly stretches his arm out, holding up his own lighter to let him do it for you.

the gesture makes you stare at him from under your brows for a few seconds, but he doesn’t move a muscle, waiting for you to accept.

so you slightly lean forward, allowing him to light it, and he looks at you with a certain level of intrigue.

he’s got something interesting about him, aside from the fact that he’s ridiculously handsome. his hair is dyed in the shade of a dark red — burgundy, in this bright sunlight — where you guess his natural hair color must be a dark brown, given the color of his eyebrows.

while he’s not the tallest guy you’ve seen here so far, he still sticks out above you, his long legs and lean physique doing enough to make him appear quite tall. he wears a lazy smirk like it’s his default expression, and you’ll give it to him — if he was trying to get your attention, it worked.

he leans against the wall, watching you exhale the smoke. “i don’t think i’ve seen you around. are you a first-year?”

“there’s thousands of people attending here. of course you haven’t seen me before.”

“how straightforward of you.”

“do you prefer small talk?”

the corner of his lips curl up. “i don’t. my question still stands, though.”

“i’m in my third year. just transferred.”

“well, i guess you fit right in. this is the place where i always come to get away from everyone else.”

“is this your way of telling me i gotta go elsewhere next time?”

“took the words right out of my mouth.” the chuckle he lets out sounds low and relaxed. “no, you can come here and join me whenever you want. only if you’re good company, of course.”

you finally take the bait of engaging in the conversation with him and roll your eyes. “sorry to disappoint.”

“i doubt you’d disappoint me.”

“oh, please. you don’t even know me.”

“i do now.” jesus christ — does he always talk like that? like he knows more than you do? “but, if you want me to get to know you, you should tell me your name.”

his gaze becomes surprisingly intense in the blink of an eye, and something suddenly weighs down your body like feet glued to the floor. “i’d love to stay and chat, but i have a class to get to. i’m sure i’ll see you around, though.”

he hums in a bit of a smug way, as if he can look directly into your thoughts and see what you’re thinking. you feel his eyes burning in your back as you walk away from him, into the building, and you force yourself to regain your composure.

several hours later, just in time for dinner, you get back to the house, utterly drained.

the living room has dark walls with a few shiny brown bookcases that reach the ceiling, a comfortable sofa and several other chairs. if anything, the house is styled with rich, darker colors, creating a moody atmosphere, especially at night with the dim lighting.

your mother calls out to you once she notices you standing there. “honey, come here and introduce yourself, will you?”

she’s standing next to her fiancé, but there’s another person with them, whose back is facing you — and you suddenly spot the color of his hair.

when he turns around to face you, it feels as if the air is knocked out of your lungs.

you can’t be serious.

it’s so ridiculously cliché that part of you wants to laugh. what the fuck are the odds of the guy you met earlier today becoming your stepbrother?

though judging by the way his face falls, he was just as unaware of your identity as you were of his. not for long, of course — that damned grin is back on his face in seconds.

he takes a few steps over to you, extending his hand to formally introduce himself, as if you didn’t meet hours before. “i’m jeonghan.”

you stare at him with a deep frown but play along nonetheless, so you shake his hand, curtly saying your own name in response. he repeats it to himself with a softer voice than before, and you hate that you like the way your name sounds when he says it.

then you look down, realizing he’s still holding your hand, and you almost push him away, trying to act like his presence doesn’t affect you in any way whatsoever.

dinner goes by achingly slowly. your mother is being all social and just so damn eager to get to know her future stepson, asking him questions, clearly taking a liking towards him.

jeonghan tells her all kinds of stories, making sure to infuse his words with all the charm he’s probably got in that frail body of his. as you watch from the sidelines, you can tell he knows exactly what she’d like him to be, and he plays the role wonderfully.

well-mannered, friendly, charming, intelligent. he gives your mother subtle yet sickeningly sweet compliments and she just eats it all up.

every now and then, he glances at you, even shamelessly eyeing your chest up and down.

you hate that you’re still intrigued by him.

he asks you questions as well — small talk, of course. probably just for show. your answers are shorter than necessary, and he quickly notices you don’t feel like talking at all.

once dessert is over, you excuse yourself, saying you still have some work to do for tomorrow, and you exit the room immediately to ensure your mother isn’t able to protest.

the sound of footsteps behind you makes you quicken your pace up the stairs.

as you’re walking down the hall, heading to your room, his familiar voice pops up from behind you. “you should’ve just told me your name.”

of course he’s the one going after you.

you scoff at him. “wouldn’t have changed anything.”

jeonghan has his hands sitting in his pockets when he steps towards you. “you would’ve known who i was.”

“did you know who i was?”

“i didn’t, actually. when my dad told me i’d be getting a sister, i didn’t know what to expect.”

“sister?” the way you say it makes it sound like an insult. perhaps it is in this case. “we’re just strangers. nothing more than that.”

oh, jeonghan already likes you much more than he anticipated. there’s a certain sharpness to every single thing that comes out of your mouth ― you’re surprisingly cold. he wonders if you do it on purpose.

“such hostility.” he remarks, enjoying the fact that he’s standing so close to you.

“maybe i just don’t like you.”

“maybe. but you’re not all that talkative with my dad either, nor do you seem to plan on it.”

“so?”

“so, for someone who voluntarily came with her mom to live with complete strangers, you don’t come across as willing to bond with anyone. unless that’s not what you’re here for, of course.”

“what are you saying?”

“you’re a smart girl. if you already built a life for yourself in another place, why come here? you don’t seem ecstatic to be part of a new family.”

“i wanted the change.”

“did you?”

“yes. what does it matter?”

jeonghan won’t outright tell you he finds it strange you get so hostile when asked about your reasons for coming here. “i’m just curious.”

“has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to poke your nose into other people’s business?”

“if you’re going to hide something, at least come up with a better lie.”

waiting for you to respond, he resists the urge to bite his lip, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment, a palpable tension rising between you.

“look, i’m not hiding anything. i’m happy for my mom that she found someone she loves, but as for everything else that comes with it, you couldn’t pay me to care. so i suggest you go and play with someone who does.”

truth be told, you do sound convincing, but then he catches you eyeing his body, and he makes up his mind just like that.

the only person jeonghan wants to play with right now is you, and he’s not one to give up easily.

his voice is all sultry when he bids you goodnight. “good luck studying, sweetheart. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

as he walks away, you grab the handle of your door, but you still look at him going back down the hall, and you find yourself wondering what his room looks like, what he thinks of you ― and perhaps more importantly, what it is he’s planning.

II. BEWARE OF YOUR BROTHER

“hey. jeonghan. d’you know her?”

joshua points to the other side of the hall, at which his best friend curiously looks in said direction, only to find you standing there, typing away at your phone while looking as bored as ever.

“why?” jeonghan asks, curious as to why joshua would ask for you, since he hasn’t yet mentioned the news of his dad’s fiancée having a daughter.

“i bumped into her last week, on monday. she’s new. i introduced myself to her but didn’t get her name ‘cause she was running late for a lecture.”

well, that’s unexpected.

of course you met both him and his best friend on the same day. fate has such a way of bringing people together, it’s laughable.

jeonghan just gestures for his friend to follow him, and the two of them walk over to you, after which he greets you. “hey, sis.”

you look up at him with pure annoyance. “i told you to stop calling me that.”

“i told you i wasn’t planning on it.” he retorts with one corner of his mouth curled upwards ― he reminds you of the cheshire cat.

joshua watches the interaction with a deep frown set into his forehead. “am i missing something here?”

“the woman my dad is marrying has a daughter. daughter being her.”

the younger of the two looks wildly surprised as he processes it. “you’re gonna be his stepsister?”

“so he likes to remind me, yes.” you answer, vaguely recognizing him. “wait, didn’t i meet you last week?”

“you did, yeah. though i didn’t catch your name.”

jeonghan watches as joshua’s tone becomes even sweeter than it already is, his smile only growing bigger once you’ve given him your name.

oh.

oh, no.

the discovery that joshua thinks you’re cute flips a switch in him. you are cute, don’t get him wrong, but he doesn’t like that his friend is looking at you that way.

“well, i gotta go to class. it was nice seeing you again, though, joshua.” you smile, proceeding to shoot your future stepbrother a glare, and he’ll take any attention you give him.

as soon as you’re out of earshot, joshua hits his shoulder. “why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner? is she living with you?”

“well, i had other priorities. and yes, she is.”

“i can’t believe she’s gonna be your sister. what’s she like? she doesn’t seem to wanna be around you all that much.”

“she’s distant. keeps to herself a lot.”

“so she’s awfully similar to you, then.”

similar to him? he doubts you are.

jeonghan averts his gaze to the courtyard, absentmindedly replying, “i suppose she is.”

a few days later, your mother’s scheduled an appointment for both you and jeonghan at a clothing store in the city to get your measurements taken for the wedding.

which is why jeonghan finds himself standing outside the classroom you’re currently having a lecture in. his class ended about fifteen minutes earlier than anticipated, so he figured he could just wait for you here, since you’d agreed to go to the store together and meet your mom there.

once your class is finished, the door opens, and a huge number of students walks out of the hall, passing him by. to his surprise, though, he hasn’t been able to spot you yet.

when it seems the last students have left, he frowns to himself. just for good measure, he peeks inside the lecture hall to check if anyone’s still inside.

the hall is almost completely empty, save for you and some other girl who’s talking to you.

but there’s something off about the conversation you’re having, because it doesn’t seem like you and her are friends ― matter of fact, you look colder than ever, and he feels the harshness of your glare even when it’s not directed at him.

but then you look his way, and he realizes he spoke too soon, because you certainly don’t seem to be softening up the slightest bit.

you abruptly walk down the stairs, moving right out of the lecture hall, blatantly ignoring him as if he’s not even there.

he turns around and follows you with a chuckle. “trouble in paradise?”

“why do you care?”

“well, i like a bit of drama.”

“i’m sure you do.”

“seriously though — you’ve been here for two weeks now and already made enemies? going for a new record?”

“why the hell were you even outside my classroom? we were supposed to meet by the entrance at the ground floor.”

“my class ended early. and you’re dodging the question.”

finally stopping in your tracks, you stare at him. that cockiness in his attitude is really starting to get on your nerves.

so you grab his arm, and he looks pleasantly surprised at the way you grab him, pulling him around the corner, away from the crowded corridor.

but then jeonghan suddenly finds himself backed into a corner ― no one has ever backed him into a corner. “what are you doing?”

your fingers glide across his double-breasted blazer, and you have such a tight hold on the fabric that it almost knocks the air out of his lungs.

the expression painted on your face is unreadable to him. cold, perhaps a bit smug, but not sharp.

“you know, i’m starting to think you have a thing for me. being unnecessarily nosy about my reasons for coming here, now listening in on my conversations… i don’t like being put under a loupe,” you shrug, “i’d prefer it if you stayed away from my private life.”

“your private life? we live in the same house.”

“we do. but the thing is ― i’ve seen what you do. observing from the sidelines, watching everyone and everything. you’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

he tilts his head. this is a challenge he’s never had before, and it actually excites him in a way. because who the fuck is this girl who’s onto him and his ways?

“is being observant a bad thing?”

“not with other people, no. with me, it is.”

“you sound self-serving.”

“i am self-serving. i’m also mean, condescending, maybe even a bitch. the only reason i’m tolerating your presence is because i have to.”

jeonghan finds your self-awareness admirable. he doesn’t move from his spot by the wall you’ve pushed him against, but he does lean his face a bit closer to yours. “see, that’s the thing, sis. you don’t have to, just like you didn’t have to move here.”

fuck. he’s got you there, and it causes you to get hostile towards him again. “stay out of my private life, jeonghan.”

“or what? afraid i’ll find something interesting?”

“we may be family now, but that doesn’t mean you can bother me as you please. everyone has secrets ― either you respect mine, or you don’t. i’m not as friendly when people pry into business that clearly isn’t theirs.”

the smug smile you have on your face is borderline provoking. it almost makes him want to pry into your business. something about the way you look at him and touch him just riles him up like nothing else.

he mirrors your expression. “are you threatening me?”

“consider it a piece of advice. it’s all your choice.” you shrug indifferently, and you shoot him a fake smile before backing away from him, heading down the hall by yourself, and jeonghan huffs, leaning his head back against the wall.

well, so much for bonding with you. he’ll admit that perhaps he’s been a bit too persistent in his teasing ― for all he knows, you could’ve been deeply unhappy back home. he should probably hold back on pushing you about your past for now. maybe you’ll even start liking him at some point. even if you haven’t shown much interest in him, he certainly finds you interesting, and he’d like to become closer with you.

and besides, he’s not one to back down from a challenge.

the ride to the store is completely silent. neither of you bother to say a word to each other, and upon your arrival, your mother happily greets you both, pushing you inside the luxurious shop. an employee smiles at you, handing you all a glass of champagne.

it’s a little early in the day, but fuck it. calming your nerves a bit would do you good.

while jeonghan gets his measurements taken, your mother tells you to pick out a few dresses you like, mainly to see what style of dress you’d like to wear to the wedding. once you’ve decided on something, you’ll be getting one custom-made, tailored to your body, all courtesy of jeonghan’s father.

eventually, once they’re done with jeonghan ― since he’s wearing a simple suit to the wedding ― he plops down on one of the soft, velvet chairs, scrolling through his phone, only putting it down when he hears you stepping out of the changing room to show the piece you’ve put on.

by the time you’re changing into your fourth dress, your mother mentions she’ll just quickly head into the bathroom, and once she’s gone, he hears you call out from inside the changing room. “mom! can you zip me up? i think it might be stuck halfway.”

he doesn’t hesitate to walk up to you, pushing the curtain to the side, but it’s only when you notice it’s him doing it that you jump in your spot.

“what the hell are you doing?” you ask with furrowed brows, and he motions for you to turn around.

“your mom went to the bathroom, so the only one currently around to fix your zipper is me.”

you scoff. “well, aren’t i lucky.”

jeonghan tells himself not to focus on your deep cleavage, so he looks down to where his hands are.

as he gently tries to get the zipper to move, since a piece of fabric seems stuck in it, he bites his lip. “i thought about what you said, and i… i think we may have started off on the wrong foot. i’ve been pestering you for… no real reason. sorry about that.”

you’re certainly surprised by the change in approach — but you’re not exactly trusting. “does this mean you’ll stop asking about it?”

“yeah, i will. promise.”

“okay. in that case, i should apologize for being a little too hostile. when something upsets me, i get mean. sorry.”

he lets out a low chuckle, finally managing to separate the fabric from the zipper. “don’t worry. i can handle a mean girl.”

his hand pushes your hair over your shoulder to avoid getting it caught before slowly zipping you up, and the sensation of his cold fingers brushing past your warm skin makes you shiver.

“turn around.” he says, and you raise your hands, not expecting him to compliment you, but jeonghan appears to be full of surprises. “this color looks pretty on you.”

with a raised brow, you say, “don’t push it.”

he laughs at your response, “i’m serious. really, you do. aren’t i supposed to be your overly honest brother?”

unfortunately, he is.

so you cross your arms. “what’d you think of the other dresses?”

“that second one was terrible. you still looked gorgeous, though.”

the comment comes so unexpected that it renders you speechless for a moment, which makes him smirk in satisfaction again.

when the curtain suddenly whips open behind him, you both turn to your mother, who appears ecstatic to hear her ever-so-charming future stepson is being so helpful to her daughter already.

which makes jeonghan figure she must’ve missed the way he’s been eyeing your curves in every single dress you’ve shown so far, just as she’s been missing how your cheeks heat up when you catch him staring at you with that glass of champagne still sitting in his hand.

it’s all you’re able to think about during the ride home, and the rest of the evening.

the house is huge, yet it feels empty when jeonghan isn’t home. he left to go meet up with some friends for dinner after you were done at the store, and you find yourself restless over the things he said today.

you have difficulty trusting people, and you probably shouldn’t trust a guy like him, yet a part of you wants to ― badly, for whatever reason.

it’s the middle of the night when you reach for your bathroom cabinet to get some aspirin, and you come to the realization that you forgot to buy a new pack, so your only option is to either suck it up or head down to the kitchen.

in a white tank top and loose-fitted sweatpants, you quietly make your way down the stairs, huffing when you see all the different cabinets you’re still not used to. it takes you a few minutes of searching until you stumble upon the drawer with medicine, and you take the new pack to smuggle it to your own room.

“what’re you doing?”

the voice behind you popping out of nowhere nearly gives you a heart attack. “jesus fucking christ―can you stop?”

“stop what? i just walked in.” jeonghan replies in the same tone, grabbing your lower arms as if to make sure you remain standing. “i thought you’d be asleep, not ransacking a kitchen drawer.”

“i was supposed to be asleep, but i got a headache. obviously.”

he watches you gesture to the strip of aspirin on the counter and lets out a noise of understanding. “want me to make you a cup of tea? it might help you sleep.”

if you weren’t so tired already, you’d let him, but you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. thanks for offering though. you had a fun night?”

“yeah. maybe you should come with next time. i’m sure my friends would like you.” he almost makes the mistake of mentioning joshua asked for you, remembering to keep that to himself.

there’s something you’re dying to ask him, and you decide to just do it, since he’s standing in front of you anyways.

“are you being this nice to me ‘cause you like me or just for the sake of your father’s marriage?”

he doesn’t reply right away, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge first. “my father’s been in serious relationships with other women before. i never cared much for them or their families. does that answer your question?”

“somewhat.”

“you don’t sound convinced.”

“that’s ‘cause you’re not convincing.”

jeonghan’s buttons are easily pushed, at times. you like pushing him.

he smiles to himself, averting his gaze for a moment, only looking back at you once he’s significantly closed the distance between your bodies. “i like you. a lot, actually, even though you’ve mostly just been cussing me out.”

“which you probably deserved.”

“i guess so.” he hums playfully, and you mimic his mannerisms, nearly skipping over the fact that this is the closest you’ve stood to him since meeting each other.

part of you wants him to be even closer.

then his gaze moves down, and you follow it.

even though the top you’re wearing isn’t see-through, its fabric is thin, and you didn’t put on a bra before leaving your room because you didn’t expect you’d be running into anyone, especially not him.

as soon as you realize he’s looking at your breasts, you cover your chest, immediately scolding him. “oh my god, you’re such a pervert.”

of course, he’s hardly impressed, not appearing to care in the slightest that you caught him staring. “cussing me out again? really?”

“i’m heading up to my room. don’t even think about following me.”

“well, shoot. there go my plans for the night.” he remarks, grinning at you. “sleep tight, sis.”

“yeah, whatever. night, hannie.”

hannie. that’s cute. he doesn’t think you’ve ever called him that before.

once you’re gone from his field of view, he bites his lower lip, unable to wipe that damn expression off his face as he thinks of you.

he can’t get enough.

III. WHO IS NOT WITHOUT SIN?

despite being an adult, your mother’s authority still has a hold on you sometimes.

which is why instead of being in bed all morning like you’d planned, you’re currently in a grand church, seated on a bench in the back of the spacious hall with jeonghan next to you.

your parents were adamant on sitting near the front, but when you were walking into the hall just ten minutes ago, it was jeonghan who quickly grabbed you by your arm so that you and him could sit in the back together, and you’re honestly thankful for it.

it’s only been a few weeks since he told you he’d stop bothering you with questions about your past and start being nice to you, and so far, he’s kept his promise.

you wouldn’t say you fully trust him yet, but you definitely are growing fond of him. he’s been showing you around the city, taking you out to lunch, studying with you in the library at university, and it’d be a lie to say you haven’t enjoyed every second of it.

physical touch is clearly a habit of his with people he’s close to — joshua, his father on occasion, as well as some of his other friends he’s introduced you to.

for some reason, you’re always hyper-aware when someone touches you, and you have to admit, he does a great job at easing into the physical contact. it started with some simple touches on your shoulders and upper arms, slowly but smoothly continuing, allowing his hands to sit on your waist and lower back.

and he enjoys the dynamic he has going on with you. it’s mostly lots of sarcastic comments, teasing and joking around, but there’s moments where you just quietly appreciate the other’s presence.

with a sigh, you don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or him. “i have no idea what i’m doing here. i’m not even catholic. pretty sure my mom isn’t, either.”

“no? not a fan of monotonous singing in a cold hall on sunday mornings?”

a scoff escapes you, followed by a sarcastic quip. “such a way with words, brother dearest.”

jeonghan shrugs, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “maybe you should pretend to be sick next time our parents want us to tag along. i’ll have no other option but to stay home and take care of you.”

is it so wrong of him to want you all to himself?

“creative.” you mutter with a grin, simultaneously hiding the effect his words have on your body.

he only gives you that mischievous smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye, and you can’t resist the soft chuckles escaping you.

not much later, he’s sitting closer to you, using it as an excuse to whisper in your ear. “me and my dad aren’t catholic either. i’m guessing it’s just about appearances.”

“of course,” you roll your eyes, “maybe they wanna get married here and this is their way of checking it out.”

jeonghan, very selfishly, doesn’t want to think about his father and your mother getting married. he just smiles at you as a way to conceal his true feelings, and all he can think about is that he should’ve met you first, that you should’ve been his.

so he averts his gaze, attempting to focus on whatever the pastor is saying, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.

the preaching is grim and anything but welcoming. words like hell and damnation are thrown around numerous times in a speech that feels almost like it’s spoken in a foreign language, and he hates it — he hates being here.

but perhaps not as much as you do.

“we must and will all pay for our sins, one way or another—” the pastor’s voice rings through your ears. his words keep replaying in your head, and it begins to make you feel dizzy, heavy existential suffering overtaking your chest, like a loud scream being pushed down but fighting to work its way up your throat.

you have to stop thinking about it.

you have to let it go.

jeonghan takes notice of your change in body language. where you were previously hardly moving a muscle, your breathing has become irregular, chest rising and falling more visibly, and you’re digging your nails into the skin of your thigh.

what he’d do to know what’s going on in that head of yours.

he puts his hand just above your knee to comfort you, and when you look up at him with almost disturbed eyes, all you find in his gaze is — understanding.

jeonghan doesn’t know what it is you’re hiding from him, but he figures you must’ve done something wrong in your past, if this is your reaction to the speech currently being given.

but he’s done wrong too.

his palm is still resting comfortably on your bare skin, and your shaky hand reaches out for his instinctively; it feels so right. instead of letting you put your hand on top of his, he raises it to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.

when you look at him with the corners of your mouth downturned and eyes glossy, your hand clenching his like you need it as much as you need to breathe, he chooses not to give a damn whether your parents choose to get married or not.

he’ll be there for you when you need it — he’ll make you his.

the mass is over before you know it, and as you’ve just walked out of the church, you spot your mother excitedly chatting away with her fiancé, not paying you any mind.

jeonghan catches up with you and gently puts his hand on your lower back. “are you okay?”

blinking a few times, you nod, trying to sound more cheerful than you are. “yeah. it was just… getting to me, is all. i don’t know why.”

but even you know the excuse is not gonna fly with him. he knows you’re hiding something — but he refuses to press you any more than he already has. “i want you to know that… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. but i’m here for you, okay? i want you to be happy.”

god, you could actually cry.

the words affect you, and you move to hug him, which he embraces like his life depends on it. “thanks, hannie.”

“anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his heart racing when he realizes this is the first time you’ve hugged him like this, and that’s special to him.

the two of you hold one another for a little longer until you release him, and you loop your arm through his. “i’m drained after hearing that speech. wanna go get coffee?”

“you read my mind.”

leaving your parents behind, jeonghan takes you with him, hoping to spend the rest of his day with you.

the café you’ve just arrived at is relatively small, with a few people seated on the terrace outside and an older couple inside. jeonghan urges you to sit down at one of the tables and relax ― he figures you might like that after getting upset in the church.

with your go-to order already in mind, he goes up to the counter to order for both of you, and you’re staring at the people passing by on the sidewalk until a high-pitched shriek pulls you out of it.

“jeonghan? oh my god! it’s been so long, how are you?” the girl at the counter says cheerfully to him, and he’s pretty sure she would’ve pulled him in for a hug if it weren’t for the counter separating them. “i almost didn’t recognize you with the red hair! suits you, though.”

he gives her a polite smile in return. “i wanted the change, i guess.”

“what can i get you?”

“a regular cappuccino and a decaf, please.”

“oh, you got company?”

“girl by the window.”

her expression falters a bit. “is she your date?”

a question he’d prefer not to answer, really. she doesn’t need to know you’re the stepsister he has a massive crush on, so he just gives a vague answer like he always does. “something like that.”

she seems intrigued but refrains from asking any further questions. “alright. you got a stamp card?”

about three minutes later, he puts two cups of coffee on your table, sitting down across from you.

“thanks.” you mention, and jeonghan notices just a slight difference in your behavior. “the barista, is she a friend?”

jeonghan puts two and two together ― or so he thinks ― before taking a first tentative sip of his coffee. “her name’s bitna. we went to high school together.”

“oh, i know her name. she’s in my class, unfortunately.” you mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears it, gesturing for you to tell him more. “you remember when you saw me arguing with a girl before we went to the store a while back? it’s her i was arguing with.”

that raises questions in him. “what was she bothering you for?”

“fuck if i know. she was pressuring me about my reason for transferring, i just… i don’t know.”

“if she bothers you again, just come to me. i’ll deal with her.”

“well, contrary to how she spoke to me, she seemed pretty excited to see you.”

“well, this was our first time seeing each other in two or three years. but she’s always been… expressive.”

“ah.” you hum, averting your gaze when you take your cup, secretly cheering that she’s not some girl he’s seeing. when he taps his fingers on the surface, you watch him leaning forward over the small, wooden table.

“not jealous, are you, sis?” he asks you with a brief quirk of his brow, and you shrug.

“what should i be jealous of?”

“you? nothing. ‘cause you already have me,” he drawls, “from what a friend told me, bitna liked me when we were still in school together, but i highly doubt she still does. i mean, it’s been years.”

“you didn’t like her back?”

“nope. not my type.”

“so what is your type?”

a few strands of his dark red hair dangle before his eyelids when he looks up at you from under his brows. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’ve ever been in love.” but maybe he is now.

even though he doesn’t say the last part out loud, it’s like you can still hear it, and the way he looks at you ― god, has anyone ever looked at you like that?

the silent eye contact speaks volumes, and he moves to stick out his index finger, pointing at your cup. “i think your coffee might be getting a bit cold.”

rolling your eyes at his attempt of taking your attention off him, he just chuckles, and while you and him enjoy each other’s company, you fail to notice how the barista has barely taken her eyes off the two of you since jeonghan sat down.

two weeks pass by, and as your mother’s wedding approaches, you try to ignore the growing feelings for your stepbrother.

you thought it’d go away if you repressed it as much as you could.

which was a big mistake to think. huge.

the relationship you have with jeonghan becomes more complicated by the day. people around you, especially your parents, encourage you and him to bond like a brother and sister would, they even seem to act like you are related in that way — even though you most certainly aren’t — but whenever you’re alone with him, it’s completely different.

every touch you give each other feels more intimate, every kiss he presses to your cheek gets closer to your lips. with every passing day, the boundaries of what should be a familial connection get pushed further, the lines blurring.

and it, frankly, drives you insane.

jeonghan hasn’t directly expressed how he feels about you ― not that you have either, for that matter ― but the way he acts around you and talks to you feels like he’s definitely insinuating it, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it up.

but you have to, because he can’t be anything but a brother to you.

is it really that selfish of you to just want to have him kiss you? just once?

“honey, it’d be great if you could focus on standing still and upright.” your mother’s stern voice suddenly rings through your ears, shaking you awake from your thoughts.

“right. sorry.” you mutter, glancing at the dressing mirror in front of you. on your bare feet, you’re standing on a small, round display platform so the two assistants of the designer can perfectly see whether the dress you’re gonna be wearing to the wedding fits well and if it needs any adjustments.

the dark navy satin dress just about reaches your knees, and you have to admit ― you feel very pretty in it.

“the waist just needs to be stitched a bit tighter; it’ll enhance her features more.”

“i agree. we could also adjust the straps a bit.”

the assistants converse with your mother about their thoughts, and they follow her out of the living room not much later, leaving you in the same spot, admiring how the dress hugs your curves in the mirror since you’re by yourself anyways ― though not for long.

jeonghan, who’s just arrived home, peeks around the corner, and he leans against the doorframe to gaze at you, even if you’ve already spotted him.

“that dress is gorgeous on you.”

turning around to look at him, you smile at the compliment. “you think?”

he nods, taking a few steps over to you. “i do. looks like the bottom is a bit twisted, though.”

then you face forward again, to the mirror in front of you, and you watch as he’s standing behind you, feeling him tug at the fabric a little as he fixes the back of your dress.

goosebumps erupt on your arms when he suddenly touches your skin. the way his fingers slide from above the knee to your upper thigh is slow, and his voice is a lot closer to you than before.

“how does that feel?” he whispers, lips brushing past your ear, and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your back pressed against his front.

you have to force yourself not to squeeze your legs together to give yourself some friction. the way he teases you has you aching to be touched. “feels… good.”

ironically, he needs to force himself to have self-restraint more than you do right now. he wants nothing more than to just rip that fabric off your body and get on his knees to taste you, but he can’t. he shouldn’t.

you’re the forbidden fruit, after all.

“i’ve thought about doing this since the day i met you. wrong of me, right?” he rasps, the cold metal of the silver ring sitting around his index finger causing you to shiver.

“yeah—you shouldn’t.” you tell him, yet you grab his arm and lean into his touch, allowing him to roam your body.

if anything, the way you give in to him like this only gets him hotter. “where do you want me to touch you?”

“hannie…”

the nickname has him inhaling sharply, “answer me.”

swallowing, you give him what he wants. “higher.”

your wish is his command — so he moves his fingers up higher, towards your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp, which nearly has him moaning in your ear.

then he rubs over your clothed pussy, and when you lean your head back, on his shoulder, he presses kisses all over your neck and cheek.

with a low voice, he whispers, “you’d let me have you right here, right now? when anyone could walk in?”

when you hum in response, he wonders how the hell he managed to come across a girl this perfect.

he pushes your underwear to the side and watches your lips part as he slides two of his fingers into you.

feeling you squeeze around his fingers makes him ridiculously hard in his jeans. “that’s it, pretty girl. relax for me.”

the gasps leaving your mouth are hot and erotic. hearing his breathing get louder and uneven turns you on even more, and you can only imagine the idea of having his cock inside you instead of his fingers — god, what you’d do to have him in your bed.

his eyes remain on your face. he thinks you just look so fucking pretty when your eyes roll back in pleasure, and it makes him want to drop everyone and everything just to be able to keep watching you like this.

right when he’s about to add another finger, you hear your mother’s voice approaching again, and jeonghan steps away from you, hiding his hands behind his back.

your mother looks surprised at the sight of her stepson standing near you but forgets about it once she notices your red cheeks.

“everything okay, honey? you look like you’re burning up.”

all you can do is stumble out an excuse. “yeah, i’m fine. just, uh… is it warm in here? it’s warm in here.”

she only raises a brow but continues talking to the assistants about the changes to your dress, and jeonghan subtly backs away from you, shooting you a satisfied grin.

it’s hard not to catch the smirk on his face when he leaves the room, sucking the taste of you from his wet fingers once no one but you is looking at him.

when he’s actually gone, you realize what just happened — he didn’t just make a move, he actually went as far as to touch you.

fuck.

IV. SUCCUMB TO YOUR GREED

much to your frustration, you’ve hardly seen jeonghan since he stuck his fingers in you.

he went on a trip to the other side of the country for one of his courses, which took four days, and he only got back from said trip last week. while you’ve seen him around at certain moments since his return, it’s only been briefly or when your parents were in the room.

so, to put it shortly, you pretty much haven’t talked about it.

if anything, nothing has changed in his behavior towards you. he’s still as smug and sarcastic as ever — you’d think nothing happened.

reality begins to kick in when your parents announce they’ll be getting married in a mere two weeks, and the smile you have on your face is so utterly fake that it almost hurts.

all you can think of is how much you want him to yourself.

later that night, when your parents have gone to bed, you head into the kitchen for a snack, and jeonghan stands there, downing a glass of alcohol, it seems.

he lazily eyes you as you come up to him, and you turn the bottle to read the label. “whiskey? pretty sure you shouldn’t be drinking that like you’re doing a shot of vodka.”

“i know. if i’m drinking like this, it’s to get drunk. or at least tipsy.”

“by yourself? at home? you’re not secretly an alcoholic, are you?”

he rolls his eyes with a huff, pinching at your skin, at which you laugh and push him away. “no, i’m not. just wanna stop my mind from racing.”

“is something bothering you?”

he can’t stand how pretty you look, even in the darkness of the kitchen.

“yes.”

“wanna talk about it?”

“no.” he responds, and he swears he finds something of disappointment in your features.

his sweet girl ― how could he not give in?

the glass hits the countertop with a clink when he puts it away. jeonghan moves in to kiss you with full force, his hand behind your head to make sure it doesn’t hurt when your back hits the fridge.

what kills him is that you immediately kiss him back, because this is all he wants. you.

when he pulls away, his lips are swollen and tainted with your lip balm. your hands are on the back of his neck, and he has his one hand on the side of yours, thumb sitting underneath your jaw.

your heavy breathing matches his, and you lean in to kiss him again, but he hesitantly stops you — as if he needs to restrain both of you from letting this get out of hand.

“i’m sorry.” he has to push the words out, letting go of you, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and its matching glass before disappearing from the kitchen.

in disbelief of what just happened, you can only blink, dumbfounded.

the kiss is all you can think about whenever you see him the following days. despite everything that’s happened between you when you were alone, neither of you has brought it up, nor has your behavior towards each other changed in any way.

perhaps it’s the lavish wedding your mother’s so busy with that you can barely even think about it properly. the two weeks pass by so fast that you begin to process it on the day of the event itself, and just like that, you’re standing beside jeonghan by the church’s altar, watching with a blank stare as his father says the vows you couldn’t care less about.

what you do care about, though, is how criminally dashing your stepbrother looks in his suit, which matches with your dress. you can’t help yourself, glancing at him from the corner of your eye every now and then, and when he momentarily shifts his weight from one leg to the other, he purposefully brushes past your leg.

as your parents walk down the aisle together after being pronounced husband and wife, everyone’s attention being on them, jeonghan leans down to whisper in your ear, “we’re officially brother and sister now.”

“lucky me.”

he plays with your earring for a moment until you swat his hand away. “oh, don’t act as if you don’t like me.”

“i find you highly annoying, actually.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night, pretty girl.”

he’s given you so many compliments at this point that you’re able to hide the redness of your cheeks, but it still makes you feel like a schoolgirl getting praised by her crush on the inside.

all you can do is ache for him. have you ever pined for someone like this? you doubt it.

the wedding and everything that comes with it goes by smoothly, just as planned — except for your own agenda.

maybe it was selfish of you to hope that jeonghan would touch you again during the night of the wedding.

but he still hasn’t. and it’s starting to piss you off. first he nearly has sex with you, then radio silence, then he kisses you, followed by radio silence again — and you’re planning to find out just how far you need to go to make him cave.

it’s only a week later when the perfect opportunity arises, all courtesy of joshua.

would you consider yourself a party girl? once a month, maybe. you overall like to stay in more, but you welcome the occasional night of letting loose.

you very subtly mention the event to jeonghan on purpose. “are you also going to the party one of joshua’s friends is hosting tomorrow night? i forgot the guy’s name—”

“you’re going to mingyu’s party? with who?”

oh, you definitely detect that surprise in his tone. “just a few friends from class. they asked me if i wanted to come with, and joshua asked if i came as well, so… will i see you there?”

“maybe.” he answers with a furrowed brow, leaving the room, immediately texting mingyu about the details of the party, despite having declined the invitation two days prior because he wasn’t really feeling it.

and just like that, around eleven o’clock, he finds himself getting ready for the party, cursing himself for the way you make him act.

he hasn’t seen you since this afternoon, since you told him you’d go with one of your friends after class and get ready with her.

with his hair slicked back — save for a few strands hanging in front of his forehead — and a leather jacket thrown on, he heads out to mingyu’s place.

it’s the host of the party who comes up to greet him. “jeonghan! good to see you, i almost thought you weren’t coming.”

“i’m not planning on staying long. just wanted to say hi since life’s been busy recently.”

“i met your sister. she’s nice.” mingyu says, and it feels as if a switch flips in his head.

“yeah. where is she, by the way? i actually gotta talk to her about something.”

the taller of the two points to the kitchen. “i think she was getting herself a drink.”

“alright, thanks. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?” jeonghan says, giving mingyu a squeeze in his arm, which he reciprocates.

the party started about an hour and a half ago, the room already warm and reeking of alcohol and sweat.

when he enters the kitchen, he doesn’t see you anywhere at first — that is, until you turn around.

you look like a dream. perhaps even that’s an understatement.

a tight, black satin mini-dress with a sweet-heart neckline and a gold necklace sitting on top of your exposed collarbones. your makeup suits you perfectly — you look gorgeous.

what tops it all off is that sweet smile that rises to your face as soon as you recognize him.

“when did you get here, hannie?”

“i, um…” he looks you up and down once more, almost forgetting to answer you, “just now.”

you move in to give him a quick hug, and he has to hold back from letting his hands roam too low, sucking in a breath when you press your body against his even more than usual.

“wanna do a shot with me?”

“depends on how many you’ve had already.”

“only two. i’m a big girl, jeonghan. i don’t need my brother to take care of me.”

a funny statement, considering you’d actually like him to take care of you.

“it’s not you i’m worried about, baby.” he responds, mimicking your tone and attitude, which makes you grin.

you’ve shoved the tiny glass filled with vodka into his hand in the blink of an eye, and he clinks his glass with yours before downing the bitter liquid, feeling it burning in his throat.

“that was my only alcohol for the night. i drove here,” he informs you as he’s putting the glass on the counter, “you’re coming with me after this, right?”

you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you think of the best way to answer him. “well, it depends.”

the tension between you grows when he looks you in the eye. “depends on what?”

“don’t play dumb.”

he’s about to say something when he catches you briefly glancing at joshua, who’s absentmindedly checking his phone at the other side of the room.

oh, hell no.

“you’re kidding, right?” jeonghan scoffs, appalled at the idea of you landing in his best friend’s bed. “him, of all people?”

you’ve come to be so comfortable with him that you don’t mind being a little spiteful. “what? he’s cute.”

“i don’t care if he is,” he gets closer to you, his tone lower and sterner than before, “he’s my closest friend.”

“so? he doesn’t seem to mind that i’m your sister. besides, plenty of girls have a thing for being with their brother’s best friend, and vice versa. what’re you gonna do about it?”

jeonghan’s frustration suddenly dies down like a fire being put out, because he’s finally realizing what you’re doing, and his cockiness comes right back to his features. “you don’t even like him like that. you’re just trying to provoke me.”

well, shit. there goes plan a.

“no i’m not.”

“you definitely are.” he smirks gleefully, knowing damn well he’s right.

“i like joshua enough to let him give me a fun night.”

he has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to stop himself from saying he’d give you a better one, but a part of him doesn’t think you’ll go as far as to go home with joshua.

“if you say so. have fun, sweetheart.”

“i will.” you tell him, leaving him by himself in the kitchen, and he rolls his eyes.

being at this party is slowly but steadily pissing him off. he can’t have fun or focus on anyone or anything else as long as you��re in this room, knowing you’re preparing to make use of joshua’s little crush on you. and to what end? to make him jealous?

he figures this, in a way, is the result of his own actions. he’s been sending mixed signals towards you about his feelings. the stunt he pulled at your dress fitting was uncharacteristically impulsive of him, as was that late-night kiss in the kitchen, and it’s not that he doesn’t want you like that ― it’s that he can’t.

or shouldn’t.

after two hours of unbearable small talk and several glasses of non-alcoholic beer, jeonghan decides he’s had enough. he will be taking you home tonight, one way or another.

from the other side of the room, he watches joshua lean closer to your face just to say something in your ear over the loud music — and he’s touchy. shua only gets touchy with those who are either friends, family, or people he wants to pursue.

a raw sense of possessiveness begins to swirl in his gut, the feeling of it reaching the tips of his fingers.

envy is a rare thing for jeonghan. usually, he’s the one people are envious of, as arrogant as that may sound. it’s not something he brags about, really.

but when he’s envious, he gets selfish. a little manipulative, even, if necessary to get what he wants.

so his legs move to get to you before joshua can do anything he doesn’t approve of, but then someone calls out his name.

“jeonghan? hey!”

he turns his head to find the last person he cares about right now. matter of fact, he really doesn’t want to talk to her, since she’s bothered you a while ago, yet out of good manners, he doesn’t show it, remaining somewhat friendly. “bitna. nice to see you again.”

the girl smiles a little too brightly at him for his liking. “are you in a hurry? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“no, i just… it’s nothing.”

while his head is spinning from sheer jealousy, he’s about to walk away from bitna when she speaks up again.

“i actually wanted to ask you something.” just the mere sound of her voice makes him press his lips together out of annoyance ― is it not obvious to her he has other matters to attend to?

“you do?”

“look, i, um… i’ve liked you for a while now, and i was just wondering if you wanted to… go out with me sometime?”

the confession falls on deaf ears, since jeonghan can only focus on the fact that his best friend is making a move on you across the room. “i’m—i’m sorry. i can’t really talk right now. see you later?”

bitna lets out a baffled scoff when he pushes past her to walk to the other side of the room, and she begins to get a faint idea of the reason behind his hasty behavior when she notices him approaching you and joshua, and she watches the interaction from afar like a hawk.

jeonghan runs a hand through his half-long hair and walks over to you, one hand on joshua’s shoulder and the other on your upper arm, as if greeting two friends.

“there you guys are. been looking all over for you.” he puts up a smile relatively naturally to appear convincing.

joshua, with a drink still in hand, looks a little bummed that his best friend had to come over to interrupt the conversation, but his fondness for him quickly returns.

“ready to go?” jeonghan turns his attention to you, and you have a hard time keeping your balance.

“already? i just got here, hannie!” you exclaim, your usual calm and quiet demeanor replaced by an outgoing and giggly one. he thinks it’s cute to see the effect alcohol has on you, though he doesn’t think you’re drunk, just very tipsy.

“i know, i’d prefer to stay too, but i promised your mom i’d get you home at a… somewhat reasonable hour. got the family gathering in the morning, remember?”

honestly, you can hardly even call it a gathering. you simply made the deal you’d be home to see your parents off before they go on their honeymoon, and it’s a perfect excuse to take you home now ― though you certainly could refuse him. if you wanted to.

but jeonghan knows better. you want only one person here, and it’s not joshua.

you let out an exaggerated huff. “fuck, i forgot.” but even in your less-than-sober state of mind, your infatuation for your stepbrother floods your senses, and you desperately want to be around him, ready to leave everyone and everything behind.

so you take a step towards him, nearly losing your balance, yet he catches you with ease. for someone appearing on the frail side, he’s actually a lot stronger than you’d think.

he puts his arm around your waist to ensure you don’t fall, and you happily wave at his best friend, who’s still standing beside you. “bye, shua.”

his friendly smile briefly returns to his face at your sweetness. “bye. drink some water when you get home, okay?”

you nod, walking out of the place with jeonghan’s arm still around you.

the road back home is quiet, and a bit of a blur to you, if you’re honest. he helped put your seatbelt on when you were struggling with the buckle and proceeded to force you to down an entire bottle of water, which you did with a pout.

with barely suppressed laughter, you and jeonghan walk up to the front door of the manor, and he has to constantly shush you to keep it down so your parents don’t wake up.

the house is completely quiet, save for the creaking of the chandelier above the stairs in the main hall. he guides you up until you finally make it to your room, where you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud thud, eliciting a snort from him. “nope. to the bathroom you go.”

“ugh, to do what?”

“to drink some water, brush your teeth, et cetera. c’mon.”

“but ‘m so tired, hannie.”

“i know, baby. i’ll help you.” he coos, and your heart beats just a bit faster at the nickname.

so he helps you up and gets you to the bathroom, holding your jaw to brush your teeth. he’s awfully focused on the task, and you’re just staring at him the entire time, causing him to laugh.

“staring is rude.”

“maybe i am rude.”

he laughs again. “sure.”

you spit the toothpaste out in the sink and finally get some water in your system, and it feels like the sobering up of your senses is already happening.

it doesn’t make you act any less bold, though.

when he wants to say goodnight, you grab his arm. “wait—can you just—help me with one last thing?”

“what?”

“my dress. it’s so fucking tight that i barely got it on myself, my friend helped put it on. please?”

he looks down at the dress and back up at your face, and either you’re playing him to get him to undress you or you’re genuinely clueless.

but jeonghan tells himself he can do this. “turn around.” his voice is a bit lower than before, and you shiver at his tone before doing as he says.

the faint sound of the laces slowly being undone brings goosebumps to your skin, and you know it means he’s looking at the now visible clasp of the lacy black bra you’re wearing underneath the dress.

“were you hoping to impress someone with this tonight?” he somehow still manages to sound sweet despite the snark in his attitude. “joshua?”

it makes you look at him over your shoulder. “he’s cute. just… not really my type.”

he chuckles to himself, your back still facing him. “yeah, i could’ve told you that.”

you beat around the bush just for the sake of doing so. “why? how would you know what my type is?”

as he moves on to the laces covering your lower back, he pulls on them a little harder than before. “it’s unlike you to play the fool. especially with me.”

all you can do is scoff.

once he’s reached the last lace, he glances at your body for a moment before backing away from you. “change into some comfortable clothes and get some sleep, alright?”

with the dress still on, you turn around to face him again. “are you serious?”

“what?”

“you bring me home early as soon as your best friend is about to kiss me, and now you’re just not gonna act on your feelings? all of that for nothing?”

“not for nothing,” he says coolly, tilting his head, “i made sure joshua didn’t get to make his move on you.”

honestly, you’d be pissed off at him if you actually liked shua in that way. what does piss you off, though, is that he won’t make a move on you.

“i could always call him,” you suggest, though you wouldn’t act on it, but he doesn’t need to know that, “maybe he’ll give me what you won’t.”

but as always, jeonghan sounds unfazed. always the smartest guy in the room. “he’s too sweet for you. a good catholic kid. he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”

“like you would.”

“i think we both know the answer to that question.”

“oh, please. you barely even touched me.”

“true. but you must’ve enjoyed it, since you’re here, asking for more.”

“and what’s stopping you from giving me that?”

“we’re family now.”

“says the guy who calls me baby and kisses me on the lips,” you scoff, making it your mission to get him to give in.

so you shrug off the dress that was loosely clinging onto your body to drop it to the floor, and the second he lays eyes on the lacy lingerie, you know he’s practically done for.

“it’s simple. say you don’t want me, and i’ll let it go.”

there’s something charming about his brain short-cutting now that you’re standing in front of him like this, and you’re backing him into the corner so easily. “sweetheart―”

“have you thought about it, since you touched me? having me like this?” you interrupt teasingly, and when he doesn’t say anything, you can’t help but smile in realization. “oh my god, you have.”

he’s clearly doing his best to maintain the untouchable persona, but even you see the truth. “it doesn’t change anything.”

you want him to act out for once, see what’s underneath that exterior. something about him makes you want to be bold — yet completely you.

so you reach behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, and he has to swallow to keep it together.

if anything, he’s a bit baffled. he didn’t expect you to undress right here, right now, in front of him. but you just do it, looking as confident as ever.

with two small steps forward, you put your hands on his chest to push him back on the chair behind him. his breath hitches, and he tries to hold you back, failing to sound convincing in the slightest. “we shouldn’t.”

“you touched me first. you started it.” you shrug, moving to sit in his lap, and he does his best to focus on anything but your bare chest.

“i know that, but… i can’t. regardless of how much i want to.” he breathes out while your hands move from his cheeks to the back of his neck.

“i wore this set for you, y’know. just like that dress. hell, why do you think i even went to that party?”

oh.

oh.

sure, he figured you messed with joshua on purpose to rile him up — but he didn’t think you’d planned the whole night like this.

it’s something he would do, and a certain sense of pride rushes through him.

he makes the mistake of looking down where your nearly naked body grinds against his clothed crotch, and it makes him sick.

because the feeling of it is so much better than it already was in his wet dream.

“if i fuck you now—” he inhales sharply with his hand trembling on your lower back, “it won’t end there. i’ll want you again, and again, and again.”

it’s the only reason he hasn’t given in fully yet, something he realized after touching you the way he did and nearly getting caught.

he likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone, you’re addictive to him, and he knows that once he crosses this line with you, it’s over for him. he’ll want nothing more than to be with you, to fuck you and love you and have you be his.

even more than he already does.

“did you think i wanted this to be a one-time thing?” you ask, putting your hands on his jaw. “fuck me, hannie. please.”

jeonghan takes one look at your eyes and decides to say goodbye to that last thread his honor was hanging onto.

your kiss is gentler than anticipated. perhaps it’s because this is the first time you both fully get to savor it, taste it ― it’s so sickeningly sweet that he almost forgets you’re practically naked on top of him, while he’s still fully clothed.

he shrugs his jacket off with ease, throwing it onto the floor, your lips on his again before he can comprehend it. his hands roam all over your body, his breathing speeding up as his kisses trail down your jaw, to your neck, the sensation of his tongue on the skin by your collarbone making you feel weak.

with your legs around him, he gets up from the chair and puts you down on your bed. “i didn’t get to make you cum last time, so i should probably finish that, right?”

“but i want―”

“i know what you want.” he cuts you off, removing his shirt, smirking to himself when you shamelessly stare at his abs. “i’ll give it to you, but i wanna taste you first.”

he gets on the mattress in just his jeans, the waistband of his underwear peeking out from the top of his pants, and you like the sight of his bare chest.

unlike his usual patient self, jeonghan refuses to waste any more time. the way he acts isn’t rushed, but he’s got a certain hunger clawing at his chest that’s fighting to get out ― and it only really wants one thing.

your hands quickly reach out to grab his dark red hair once he’s got his head between your legs, his fingers firmly clasped on your thighs. he’s greedy, mouth and nose buried in your wetness.

“fuck—jeonghan��”

it’s when he hums in satisfaction that your eyes roll back. you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him run his tongue over your pussy, savoring the taste of you.

the sheer emptiness in your gut while you’re getting wetter by the second is driving you insane. you’re clenching around nothing, aching to be filled up, and he’s so mean for not doing so already.

his lips latch onto your clit, and you inhale sharply, your hold on his hair even harder than before, making him moan. he’s rubbing his clothed cock against the mattress while his hands and mouth are on your body, and he’s close to feeling fucking ecstasy.

when he comes back up for air, he’s breathing heavily, moving upwards to kiss your stomach. you take his wrists to bring his hands up to your breasts, and he’s almost hypnotized by your greed.

“fuck, hannie, ‘m so wet—just take me. please?” you beg, and he just can’t help it; he can’t refuse you.

he sits up on his knees to unbutton his jeans, fingers trembling in anticipation as he watches you glance at him.

shrugging off the last of his clothes, he reaches for the condom he’s got sitting in his wallet, rolling it on swiftly. he almost laughs at the way your eyes follow his every move.

“put your legs up.” he mutters, and you mindlessly follow his command, feeling the warm buds of his fingertips on your calves as he puts your legs over his shoulders.

jeonghan pushes into you slowly and gently, allowing you to adjust. you bite your lower lip with a soft grunt while your heat wraps around him.

your hands immediately reach for him, and he enjoys the feeling of your hands on his skin.

“i can’t believe you orchestrated this whole night. were you thinking about this when you nearly kissed my best friend?”

all you can do is let out a playful laugh. “would it be so terrible if i said i was?”

“a little. but i like terrible,” he shrugs casually, and you force yourself not to get caught up in the silver chain dangling above your face.

it’s then that you realize it’s a cross necklace.

the irony of it makes you chuckle, and jeonghan catches you staring at it, his eyes lighting up dauntingly.

“to think our parents got such a wonderful wedding in that church, and all i wanted was to fuck you right then and there,” his fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps his pace slow but deep, teasing you to no end, “i fucking knew you wanted me too. decided to make me jealous just to get me to fuck you — so dirty.”

“you’re the one fucking your sister—”

“says the girl who begged to be fucked by her brother,” he moves his hips harder, making you moan, “but don’t worry, baby. i don’t judge.”

he’s awfully cocky about the situation, which you do think is hot, but it also riles you up.

completely taken aback when you flip the two of you over, he’s suddenly got you sitting on top of him, and you’re shaking your head. “don’t start things you can’t finish, hannie.”

the lazy smirk he always sports falters when you slowly rock back and forth, his cock twitching inside you.

“fine. then you should finish it,” he mutters breathily, failing to come across as smug as usual, giving you full control to do whatever you want with him.

he hisses through gritted teeth when you clench around him, his hands finding their way to your hips.

“oh, fuck.” he grunts, briefly closing his eyes in pleasure, and you think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “you feel so fucking good, baby.”

as his breathing begins to quicken, he circles your clit with his thumb, causing you to shudder on top of him.

“shit! don’t—don’t do that, not yet—”

“i want you to cum around me. you can do that, right?” he urges you, feeling close to begging you simply because he wants to see your face and feel your body shake on him.

humming a response, you move your hips faster, trying to give him what he wants while simultaneously chasing your own high.

“oh my god, jeonghan—”

“that’s it, baby. doing so well for me.”

his praise is enough for you to hit your climax, your thighs trembling beside him, and the tightening of your muscles hits him to the point it makes him hit his peak as well.

once you’ve come down from it, he flips you over, going right at it again and again, until it’s deep into the night and you’re both spent.

your head lies comfortably on his chest, trailing his warm skin with your finger.

he’s softly stroking through your hair. “i can’t believe you did all of that. poor joshua became collateral damage.”

“you don’t sound like you care that much.”

“he’ll get over it.”

“you’re so mean.”

“hey, you took part in it too, sweetheart.”

“ugh, you’re right. you know, maybe i should go to the church. commit to the catholic confessions and all that.”

jeonghan scoffs. “what would you even say?”

you shrug, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “forgive me father, for i have sinned. i was at this party, and this guy who likes me was about to make a move on me, but i pretty much just left him by himself to go home with my evil stepbrother, who then proceeded to rail me into another dimension—”

“since when am i evil?”

“since the day i met you, if not long before.”

he laughs at the irony of it. “perhaps.”

V. FAMILY TREE

life is surprisingly good when you’re in a secret relationship, jeonghan finds.

whenever your parents are asleep, he quietly moves to your room, slipping under the covers to find you naked and wet and aching for him. he’ll have his hand under your jaw as he buries himself inside you to the hilt with slow, deep strokes.

at breakfast, while your parents are completely oblivious, jeonghan has to fight the urge to smirk, knowing he was inside you a mere hour before.

the sex is ridiculously good ― but he feels as if you’re still closed-off to him. that distance that he felt in those first weeks of being around you has decreased, but it’s still there. he wants nothing more than to be trusted with whatever’s clearly on your mind, but he figures you don’t. not completely.

as jeonghan repeatedly knocks on your door to get you to hurry up for your trip to the cinema, he’s suddenly greeted by your mother walking down the hall, motioning for him to come over to her, away from your door.

“jeonghan,” your mother says softly, “i wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter. she seems… happier, these days. she’s fond of you.”

the heartfelt words make him smile genuinely. “i’m fond of her, too. she’s good company, and i… well, i’ve never had a sister, so…”

“it’s wonderful to see you two get along so well, especially after last year. she was so torn up about it.”

“last year?” he asks, confused.

your mother in turn looks confused as well. “she hasn’t told you?”

“no, i don’t think so.”

she looks behind her for a second to check if the hallway is still empty, proceeding to speak in a more hushed tone. “oh, it was terrible. one of the girls who was a member of her sports team fell to her death while they were all gathered at a party together. the police officers weren’t on the scene quick enough, so all the girls saw the body, and the blood... it took a toll on her, she cuts me off whenever i try to talk to her about it. but since moving here, i suppose she’s gotten the fresh start she needed.”

well, that’s an interesting twist, to say the least.

how traumatic that experience must’ve been for you ― he doesn’t know why you wouldn’t tell him something like that. do you really not trust him at all?

when he takes you out to the city just five minutes later, he pretends not to know a thing about your mother’s words to him. he’s eager to wait and see when you’ll open up.

it takes you several weeks more to do so. you’re in his room, and he’s laying down on his back while you’re on your stomach next to him, pushing yourself up on your elbows, fiddling with your fingers. “do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”

“million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he shrugs while looking up at the ceiling. “it feels good to us. why would it be wrong?”

“everyone would disapprove. our parents would probably disown us, one might argue it’s even, you know… morally wrong.”

he blinks at your words slowly, voice slightly gentler than before.

“perhaps you should start looking at things differently. y’know, i ask myself a certain question sometimes.” jeonghan finally meets your gaze, and it’s almost hypnotic. “who will you be when no one can stop you?”

“and what’s your answer?”

“as for me — someone who doesn’t live by the rules. i live my life however i want. if that means doing something other people consider to be ‘wrong’… so be it.”

“how far would you take that? how wrong?”

“as wrong as you want it.”

he notices your breathing quicken. his eyes flick down to your collarbone before moving back up again. your hand faintly brushes past his, and he goes out of his way to put your hand on his chest, so utterly desperate to have that intimacy with you at every possible opportunity.

“can i ask you something, hannie?”

“always.”

“would you still like me if i said i was guilty of something?”

jeonghan refrains from making a playful comment when he takes notice of the seriousness in your tone, like you’re about to confess something. “what’re you guilty of?”

“i…” your breath hitches in your throat, and your impulsivity fails you, “no, forget i said anything.”

that’s when he turns his head to look at you. “hey, don’t do that. you can tell me anything.”

“i want you to still like me, jeonghan.”

he feels genuinely touched that you value the bond you two have as much as he does. “sweetheart, you could tell me you’re secretly the head of a drug cartel and i’d still like you. c’mon, tell me.”

you fiddle with his fingers to avoid looking at him, but you do begin to open up. “last year, i was a member of the university hockey club. i was close with a couple of my teammates, but not all of them. in february, there was a party on campus to celebrate the nearing end of the sports season, just like every year.”

jeonghan can almost see your throat tightening up. your struggle is so utterly visible that it makes him grow worried.

but he stays quiet.

“at a certain point that night, it was so hot inside that i went up to the rooftop to get some fresh air, since we were high up in the building with the party. about ten minutes later, one of my teammates also came up to the roof. we hated each other’s guts since the start. it was pretty obvious that she had too much to drink, but she began to just… talk shit to me, saying the team was better off without me and other teammates i was close with, and i got riled up, ‘cause i knew she didn’t like me at all. so our fight eventually became physical ― she tried to claw at my hair and face, and i pushed her away from me in the heat of the moment, i didn’t see that she was standing at the edge until she…”

he finishes the sentence as you refuse to do so yourself.

“until she’d already fallen to her death.”

you nod as a confirmation, and he finally manages to catch your gaze, a pair of glossy eyes staring back at him.

all kinds of questions run through his head. “what happened afterwards?”

“hannie…” you softly protest, heart crumbling with every word that comes out of your mouth, because it makes you feel so fucking vulnerable ― you can’t bear the thought of him leaving you or judging you.

he hums, tilting your chin upwards so you keep facing him. “no, baby. tell me.”

the nickname rolls off his tongue so naturally that you nearly miss it. “everyone who was there that night was questioned. there were no cameras, no witnesses, everyone knew she had a problem with alcohol… so i… i just said the same as everyone else. i lied. when the police ruled it an accident, everyone believed it.”

“it was.”

“except it wasn’t, because i pushed her.” you bury your face in your hands for a moment. “the shock hit me so hard that i went to the bathroom and threw up everything i ate that night. but once it wore off, i just… i didn’t feel guilty. i don’t care that she fell to her death ― it was unfortunate but bound to happen. and that’s what scares me, ‘cause i’m―i’m supposed to feel guilty about this, right? what kind of shitty person am i that i just don’t feel that? what the fuck is wrong with me?”

everything suddenly falls into place. the threatening arguments you had with bitna, the way you nearly had a breakdown at the church, the distance you’ve been so eager to keep since the day you stepped foot in this place.

this is what you were trying to run away from by coming here.

you don’t feel guilty because you pushed a girl plummeting to her death ― you feel guilt because you simply can’t bring yourself to care.

“did you want to push her?”

“jeonghan.” your tone is close to hostile, but his calm demeanor somehow pushes through.

“answer the question.”

“i—”

the stumble of an answer makes him smirk, and his face inches closer to yours, not allowing you to try and give the answer that’s clearly not the truth. “you did. you’re glad she’s dead.”

“stop. just stop.”

“you’re just saying this because you feel obligated to, not because you mean it. tell me how you really feel. i won’t judge you.”

every word coming out of his mouth tears you open little by little, exposing your biggest secret and darkest thoughts. but if he’s already deducted it — why not tell him?

it’s like you hit an internal switch. the stress begins to leave your features like he’s never seen before.

he finds it intriguing.

you finally give in and tell him the truth. “okay, fine. i hated that bitch to the bone, and i’m glad she’s dead. but i guess i still have some level of guilt, because now that i’ve done what i did… what kind of person does that make me?”

jeonghan flinches. he’s heard those words before — in his own head.

he wants to tell you that it makes you a lot more like him than he thought, to the point that it almost scares him. you’ve just trusted him with your darkest secret, yet he’s afraid to trust you with his.

what would you think of him? would you still want him the way he wants you?

“it makes you someone who had no choice. she was drunk, looking to start a fight, and you defended yourself.”

“do you really believe that?”

“i do. good and bad are a matter of perspective, and i believe you did the right thing. you’ll let go of that guilt with time. trust me.”

finally telling someone what you’ve had on your chest for so long is freeing, and he hardly appears as repulsed as you’d imagined him to be.

your voice becomes smaller. “but what if i don’t?”

“then i’ll help you. you’re my sister; i’ll take care of you, always.” he promises you, intertwining his fingers with yours, and you don’t know how to respond at first, solely because you don’t think you’ve ever been loved like this ― unconditionally.

with his free hand, he gently runs his hand through your hair, and it’s like you can finally relax now that you know jeonghan sees you as you are and cares for you just as much as before.

“thank you, hannie.” you mutter, laying your head down on his chest, and he presses a kiss on top of your head.

“anytime, sweetheart.”

his shoulders sink in relief under you. all he wants is the people he cares for to put their faith in him, and you’ve just proved you trust him with everything you have.

with you on his mind and in his arms, he drifts off into a deep slumber.

it’s remarkable how your parents remain completely oblivious of everything that’s been going on right underneath their noses. there’s been a few close calls, but nothing serious.

the last thing you expected after opening up to him was for you to grow even closer than you already were, yet that’s exactly what happened.

jeonghan has been particularly insatiable over the course of the past weeks. being all handsy, urging you to stay in his bed a little longer in the mornings, begging you to let him bury his head between your legs when he’s already done so several times — whatever’s in his system these days, it is strong.

not that you’re complaining.

being so comfortable with each other apparently also means pushing limits; the limits to possibly being caught, that is.

pushing his fingers inside you underneath the table when you’re having lunch with your parents, sneaking off into an empty classroom at university, showering together despite everyone being home ― the list goes on. there’s something thrilling about the idea of indulging in something you know you shouldn’t.

one line you haven’t crossed yet is slipping away from a charity event hosted by jeonghan’s father, though it seems that’ll be changing tonight.

jeonghan wasn’t planning on fucking you while the guests are still here, in his own home ― but you just look so gorgeous in that dress, and his jealousy is slowly but steadily going through the roof with every man coming up to you, clearly eyeing your dangerously low neckline.

as you’re heading to grab a new glass of champagne, you’re greeted by your dear stepbrother, and you’ve come to know him well enough to recognize that smug expression painted on his face.

“no.” you immediately tell him, and he huffs.

“oh, c’mon. you’re so not having fun right now.”

“can’t we just wait until everyone’s left?”

“on the contrary. this is the perfect timing.”

“yeah, for you, i bet. are you all hot and bothered, hannie?”

“i am, and you’re the only one who can fix it.”

the sarcasm might as well drip from your tongue. “wow, i feel so flattered.”

while your full attention is on jeonghan, and his attention is on you, neither of you are aware that joshua, who was invited alongside his parents, has been staring at you two since jeonghan approached you.

truth be told, joshua’s had the idea something was off about your dynamic that first moment he ever saw you interact with him, in the hallway at university.

jeonghan has never looked at anyone like he looks at you — full of intrigue, full of longing for something he can’t quite put his finger on. which he dismissed at first.

in spite of their close friendship, there is a certain barrier between them. there’s certain lines joshua won’t cross that jeonghan most definitely will, and perhaps he’s found his match in you.

but he still assumes that the relationship you have is platonic. surely it has to be.

only with each passing day, he begins to doubt that.

he’s itching to find out how you are with each other when you’re alone, and it’s a terrible thing to listen in on a conversation, but he wants this. desperately, for whatever reason.

he can’t help himself when he notices you going after him. following you from a distance, he quickly recognizes the room you head into is jeonghan’s.

the walls prove relatively thick, and his attempt to listen in from the outside fails, because he can’t hear anything.

so he blames the three glasses of champagne he downed earlier for making him go on with hasty decision-making as he quietly pushes the door handle down, not planning on actually entering the room, only having the door ajar.

jeonghan’s room is as big as a spacious apartment, so it’s no surprise joshua doesn’t see you anywhere at first.

it’s relatively quiet, with the crackling fireplace making the most noise, and he’s about to turn away from the door when he hears your voice in the background.

“you’re so impatient.”

then there’s jeonghan’s voice. “sue me.”

it remains somewhat quiet after that, until joshua hears noise he can’t make anything out of.

his curiosity gets the better of him, so he takes a few steps forward, peeking around the corner — only to find you together on top of the bed with messy hair and hands all over each other.

he’s taken aback with eyes blown wide as he watches the girl he likes half-naked and writhing underneath his best friend.

he hates how pretty you both look with the light of the fire reflecting on your skin.

jeonghan is completely caught up in the feeling of your heat around him when he throws his head back, but then he catches movement near the corner — and suddenly the two of them lock eyes.

of course he sees how borderline horrified joshua looks at the scene in front of him; he just can’t bring himself to care.

if anything, he simply ensures you keep your head turned the other way while burying himself deeper inside you, shooting his friend one of his classic lazy grins. your moans are the last thing joshua hears before he blinks to himself, leaving the room, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process.

and jeonghan can only let out a satisfactory chuckle to himself, continuing to fuck you as if he didn’t just catch his best friend staring at the two of you.

matter of fact, it’s not until several days later that he sees him again, at university.

the hallway is as good as empty when joshua shakes his head at the sight of him. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”

“no? why’s that?”

shua grits his teeth. “how long has this been going on between you and her?”

“not long before our parents got married.”

“that’s several months.” he exclaims with his face even more horrified than before. “why the fuck would you hide something like this from me for so long?”

“why would i tell you at all, shua?”

a pang of hurt shoots through joshua’s chest, and he presses his lips together. “because i liked her.”

“and how was i supposed to know that?”

“you always know these things before i know them myself. don’t tell me you weren’t aware.”

jeonghan catches the hurt in his voice and decides to tone things down. “you’re right. i knew how you felt. i guess i didn’t know how to tell you.”

“look, whatever you’re doing with her needs to stop.”

well, so much for toning things down. he thinks he much prefers being clear and forward instead. “no it doesn’t.”

“jesus christ — you’re fucking your stepsister, jeonghan! how can you be remotely normal about this?”

where joshua’s anger rises, all that surges through jeonghan’s body is pride.

yeah, perhaps the whole thing should make him feel ashamed instead of boosting his ego, but it’s not like he hasn’t already crossed the line of what is and isn’t right. what’s the harm in going even further?

“i’m normal about it ‘cause i like doing it,” he shrugs, hardly attempting to hide his enjoyment, “we’re both adults. we already were when we met several months ago, we weren’t raised together, we’re not related in the slightest. so what does it matter?”

“oh, c’mon. she’s family to you now.”

“true. but i don’t care if i have to break up my father’s marriage for this, shua. she’s mine, one way or another.”

“is it just physical?”

“you’re asking me if i love her?” he nods for a moment, admitting how he feels about you. “i do. a lot. i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.”

that certainly puts a halt to joshua’s snarky comments for the time being. jeonghan is not the type of person to say something like that easily, which also means that no matter what he says, his best friend is not planning on giving you up anytime soon.

but joshua feels hurt ― so he’s going to test that love jeonghan harbors for you, even if it means stooping lower than he ever thought he would.

it’s silent, briefly. he leans closer to his face, narrowing his eyes. “does she know what you did?”

jeonghan’s blood runs cold at the sentence alone. his entire demeanor changes like the flip of a switch ― his lips are pressed together in sheer anger, and he visibly has to hold back from shoving his best friend against the wall. “the fuck did you just say to me?”

“she deserves to know.”

“oh, so now is the moment you suddenly have morals again? what happened to ‘taking it to the grave’, huh?”

“i don’t care what you do, it’s not my secret to tell. but like you said, she’s your family. if you two care about each other so much, then she should know.”

“shua, i value our friendship, which is why i won’t cuss the shit out of you right now, but this is not your business to meddle with. we keep this between us, just like we promised back then. got it?”

“sure.” the sound of joshua’s humorless chuckle rings through his ears. “you know, i used to wonder when you’d finally break. when the burden of what you did might get too much for your conscience. but eventually i realized that’s never gonna happen, because that conscience i thought you had? it doesn’t fucking exist.”

with those words, his best friend leaves him behind. jeonghan has to take a second to comprehend what just happened ― hell, he’s still not sure he heard it right.

neither joshua nor jeonghan are aware that you’ve been listening in on nearly the whole conversation from the other side of the corner, and you’re left asking yourself if you made a mistake trusting jeonghan with your secret.

because he clearly doesn’t trust you with his.

VI. WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE

jeonghan stares at the screen of his laptop with a hollow chest and overflowing thoughts.

truth be told, he doubts he’s ever felt this vulnerable.

ever since his falling out with joshua two weeks ago, life has been particularly shitty. his best friend still isn’t speaking to him, and you’ve suddenly started to distance yourself from him too, for whatever reason.

he’s pretty sure he’s going insane. it’s not like he said something to offend you, and you don’t even appear to be angry with him at all ― you’re still as lovely as ever, except you keep yourself far away from him.

every time he’s tried to talk to you, you managed to worm your way out of it, leaving him no choice but to speak to you when you’re about to go to bed.

“you’ve been avoiding me.”

as you’re taking your earrings out in front of the mirror, he watches you raise your brows in annoyance. “yeah, i have.”

“have i done something to upset you?” he hesitantly asks with a gentle voice and big eyes, and you almost begin to feel bad because of it.

you consider denying it and brushing it off but decide not to. “i overheard your conversation with joshua.”

he digs his nails into the palm of his hand. fuck.

“right.”

“that’s it? no witty remark?” you shrug, and jeonghan doesn’t miss the sharp edge to your words.

when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. it’s rare for him to be speechless, but he simply doesn’t know what to say to you.

it makes you even more annoyed than you already are. “you’re not going to tell me about the little secret you share with him, are you?”

he shoots you an apologetic look. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”

“why not?”

“because—” because he’s even worse than you are, “—i just can’t. and it’s not ‘cause i don’t trust you—”

“are you serious?” you frown at his sad attempt of making up an excuse. “look at what i’ve told you about me. i trusted you with something like that, but you don’t trust me.”

“i do.” he firmly interrupts. “i trust you more than anyone.”

“well, forgive me if i don’t believe that. if you’re not gonna tell me whatever it is you’re hiding, there’s the door.”

he waits for a second, the spasm in his fingertips being the only visible sign that he’s itching to tell you what’s been sitting on his conscience for so long ― yet not a single word comes out of his mouth.

with shoulders slumped in defeat, he hesitantly takes a step backwards, leaving you behind as he exits your room.

while walking down the hallway to get to his own room, he takes a deep breath. all he can tell himself is that this will probably blow over soon, and perhaps you’ll even forget about it, with time.

several weeks later, he realizes that those thoughts couldn’t be less true.

in the days that have passed since the argument, you’ve hardly even looked at him. he can’t stand this sudden distance between you ― he wishes you understood why he hasn’t told you the truth, but he’s afraid you’ll only understand that once he actually tells you. in which lies the problem.

he doesn’t do that kind of honesty. not usually, anyways.

now, for the first time in weeks, the crippling sense of loneliness he’s been feeling is replaced by annoyance.

he’s always hated the parties hosted by his father’s social circle ― but if he wants his inheritance, he’ll have to bear it. so he finds himself attending a gala in his tailored tuxedo, his hands sitting in his pockets, a deep frown set into his forehead.

maybe it was uncharacteristically naive of him to think everything could go back to the way things were before that conversation with joshua. the last thing he expected, though, was that he’d be the one left behind.

from a distance, he’s been keeping his eye on you. and from what he’s seen, you and joshua are friendly with each other again, and jeonghan gets the feeling his best friend only holds him accountable for the fact that you’re fucking.

truthfully, you came up to joshua a few days after overhearing their conversation, and you apologized he had to see you and his best friend together in the way that he did. with shua still holding a bit of a soft spot for you, he accepted your apology, and you’ve been enjoying his company ever since.

but he’s not jeonghan.

while anxiously tapping your finger against the champagne glass, you look around the room, since you’ve hardly even seen him tonight.

it’s as if joshua can read your mind. he leans down to speak in a hushed tone. “trouble in paradise?”

him taking notice of it makes you shrug. “no, everything’s fine.”

“sure.” he chuckles knowingly. “i get it. why do you think he’s still my best friend after all these years?”

“what do you mean?”

“i know you overheard our conversation a couple weeks ago. i saw you slip away, and now that i know you’re not on speaking terms with him, well… you put two and two together.”

“i’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me either?”

“i can’t. unfortunately.”

the cryptic response has you rolling your eyes at him. “i don’t understand why you guys are being so secretive about it.”

“because if he told you, you’d see him for who he really is.”

“and who would that be?”

“someone who…” he swallows for a moment. “someone who will make you question your own sanity. he’s willing to do the worst things you could possibly think of and then act like it’s completely normal. he’s the worst person i know.”

the brutal honesty catches you off guard. “so why do you keep going back to him?”

“i’ve asked myself the same question. there’s something about him that… i don’t know―just pulls you in, i guess.”

the short-lived silence makes you look at your glass of alcohol with a certain distaste.

“why are you telling me this, joshua? are you saying i should distance myself from him?”

“that’s the thing. there is no distancing yourself from him.”

“you make him sound like a monster.”

joshua doesn’t meet your eyes. “perhaps he is.”

the bitter statement leaves you baffled for a second — until you decide you’re sick of it. “for fuck’s sake, joshua, you can’t say something like that and not elaborate. i live in the same house as him.”

he’s clearly surprised by your sudden and strong grip on his arm, but all it takes is catching a single glance from jeonghan across the room for him to backtrack.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says to you before leaving you behind, hoping to find some peace and quiet in the empty hallway.

all he finds there is the opposite.

“you seem awfully close with my sister. thought you’d try again now that she’s not talking to me?”

joshua stops dead in his tracks. he turns around, seeing his best friend casually leaning against the wall, the soft light of the lamp above his head reflecting on his face. the red circles under his eyes almost match his hair.

“i’m not trying anything. i know she doesn’t like me like that.”

“i’m aware. but perhaps she’d naturally gravitate more towards liking you if you told her… our secret.” jeonghan manipulatively emphasizes, which his best friend fails to register.

joshua clenches his fist. “that’s something you would do. not me.”

“right. you’re a much better person than me.”

“i didn’t say that.”

“no, but you implied it.”

“just―just tell her the truth. i can’t stand that she knows we’re hiding something.”

“we’re not guilty of anything, shua. i told you that.”

“then why won’t you tell her?”

“because she wasn’t there. she wouldn’t understand.”

but his own worry clouds his judgement and shifts the conversation into a different direction. “i saw bitna tonight. it’s like she fucking knows what we did to her brother―”

jeonghan’s anger comes swift and harsh, causing joshua to flinch. “we agreed to remain silent on this, shua, so you need to keep your end of the deal.”

but jeonghan suddenly notices his best friend is now focused on something behind him, and as his body language changes into something smaller, jeonghan turns his head.

only to see you standing behind him with confused eyes.

fucking hell, he thinks to himself. what is it with everyone and eavesdropping these days?

“joshua, go outside, take a breather. i’ll be back.” he says, taking charge of the situation, barely making eye contact with you when he takes a few steps toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him to an empty room he finds after opening one of the doors, shutting the door behind you. the jealousy is painfully obvious in his face.

“you can’t avoid me forever. and what the fuck are you doing ― being besties with joshua all of a sudden? seriously?”

“oh, so i need your approval on who i befriend now?”

“you know damn well that’s not what i’m saying. it makes zero sense for you to be mad at me but all buddy-buddy with him.”

“because you’re the one i trust! i never put my faith in him the way i put it in you!”

“do you really think i don’t feel the same way? if you actually believe i don’t trust you, you’re not as smart as i thought you to be.”

“fuck you, jeonghan. if you think i’ll ever open up to you again in the way that i did, you’re wrong.”

when you’re about to leave him behind, he stops you, tugging at your arm, and you sigh.

“please don’t leave. please.” he begs, his voice turning small. “i wanna tell you — i’m just scared to lose you when i do. and that’s the one thing i cannot handle.”

you scoff. “oh, c’mon, after what i did, how much worse can it possibly get?”

when he keeps quiet, looking you in the eye with a stern face, yours drops.

“jeonghan, what did you do?”

after opening the door to check if anyone’s there, then closing it again, he rubs his forehead. “me and joshua went on vacation to a winter retreat over our november break with a group of twenty, it was an initiative from a classmate. it ended up being a couple days of a lot of drinking, and then one night, someone pulled out the harddrugs. shua and i didn’t want any, and the guys who brought it clearly thought it was stupid. one of them was bitna’s brother.”

you just listen intently, gesturing for him to continue.

“eventually, he went outside to grab more beer from the storage by himself, which was about a five-minute walk from the house. i slipped out of the room without anyone noticing and went after him. there was a snow storm outside, so the weather was shit. once i got to the storage, i told him to stop harassing shua about taking any drugs, but he reacted badly to it. we got into a fight, i don’t even remember who threw the first punch, but… i pushed him, and when he fell backwards, it’s like i could hear the crack in his skull. he was bleeding from the back of his head, unable to get up. i grabbed my phone to call for help, but all i did was stare at my screen. the guy was bleeding out in front of me and i let him die instead of letting anyone know. and it would’ve been fine — had joshua not come outside.”

“did he watch everything?”

“no, i don’t think he did. i told him exactly what had happened, and he… he came up with the idea of framing it as an unfortunate accident. so that’s what we did. the other guys were so coked out that night that they only found the body the next day, buried under a layer of snow. the cops found the drugs in his system, and he clearly hit his head, so they ruled it an accident like we’d hoped.”

“and you swore to take it to the grave.” you fill in the blanks, and he nods at you. “why didn’t you tell me this when i asked you? what were you so afraid of?”

you see something in him you’ve never seen before — tears. nervousness. panic.

his eyes turn red and his throat tightens up. “when you told me your secret, i was… happy. because the person i care for the most is the only one who’s experienced what i have. but what you had to do was nothing more than an accident, and what i did was on purpose. i could’ve saved that guy, yet i chose not to. i don’t care if that makes me a bad person — i just don’t want you to see me that way. as selfish as that may be.”

he’s on the verge of sobbing, trembling fingers sitting on your waist.

little does he know that you don’t view him as a bad person at all. “you had to make a choice, and you made the right one. who knows what they would’ve done to you if you’d told the truth.”

all he can do is nod, his throat too closed-off to talk.

“you’re my brother. you’ll always have me, jeonghan.” you tell him, remembering the words he said to you after you confessed what was weighing so heavily on your conscience.

and jeonghan cannot help gazing at you ― he realizes that you understand him more than anyone else ever will. he’s free to completely be himself with you as you are with him, and he’s finally processing that.

he cups your face, staring at your lips before pressing his own on them.

the kiss is slow but hungry — full of greed and care and wanting. his hands move from your face to your back, pressing your body closer to his, aching for your bodies to mold together and become one.

his whole body trembles when you break the kiss, and you cup his face as he did yours.

he can’t believe he gave you his bare heart on a silver platter and you chose to stay. you see him for all he is, and in spite of his many flaws, you want him just as much as before.

yoon jeonghan, for the first time in his life, finally knows what it’s like to be loved in the way he so desperately yearned for.

and he wants to show you that he loves you just as much. he leans in to kiss you again, but just when his lips are about to touch yours, the door whips open, and you’re greeted by a phone shoved in front of you.

the vulnerability on your faces is gone the second you recognize the person holding the phone as bitna — who seems horrified.

“what the fuck are you doing?” jeonghan sneers when he realizes she made a picture of your near-kiss.

she stumbles in her step, and it seems like she’s had one too many glasses of champagne. “at first i thought i was imagining things at the party, but i was right. i was trying to finally tell you how much i liked you, even after all these years, and you ditched me for your fucking stepsister!”

that makes you raise your brow. jeonghan just confessed to killing her brother, yet this is what she chooses to talk about — she probably wasn’t eavesdropping, then.

“and how is that any of your business? we’ve barely even spoken to each other since high school.” he responds, his voice to her colder than he’s ever been to you.

“maybe it’s not my business. but the rest of your friends here deserve to know what you’ve been up to, if you ask me.” she says, attempting to make her tone sound just as mean as his, but the tremble in her voice gives her away.

when she grabs her phone and begins to type like she’s on a timer, you both realize what she’s about to do — she’s gonna upload the picture.

if that photo of you and jeonghan gets out, it’ll have serious consequences.

you attempt to snatch the phone out of her hand, but she’s quicker, her sharp nails leaving a scratch on your wrist.

jeonghan sees you hiss from the pain, and he pushes her up against the wall, his hand wrapped around her throat.

“don’t even fucking try it.”

bitna panics and shoves her knee right into his crotch, causing him to grunt from the impact, forced to let go of her neck as he collapses on the floor.

she grabs her phone and runs out of the hallway, and you don’t waste a second, running after her.

with the gala taking place at a mansion by the countryside, you’re far away from civilization, mostly just surrounded by the forest and some badly lit roads.

you go after her even when she runs outside through the backdoor, right between the tall trees. it’s when she trips over her heels that you’re finally able to catch up with her, and you flip her around to choke her unconscious, but she uses her nails to scratch across your face this time.

“fuck!” you yell, and she uses the moment to escape once more.

with a few drops of blood on your face, you get up to go after her again, fueled by the adrenaline and blazing hatred in your system.

she keeps running, looking back to you from over her shoulder, and it’s right at that moment that she runs onto the road, forgetting to check whether there’s any traffic in her haste — and she gets pushed over by an incoming car.

shock hits you briefly, and you contemplate hiding between the trees to leave the scene of the crime until you recognize the car as well as its driver.

jeonghan gets out, and you run over to him, finding him standing by bitna’s body, which is now several meters away from the car due to the crash.

“fucking hell — what just happened? i wasn’t even trying to hit her, she just ran in front of the car out of fucking nowhere—did she do that to your face?”

with your breathing slowing bit by bit, you nod, and you both look down at the body, only to realize she’s still breathing, but her injuries are so bad that she can’t get up, and she’s coughing up blood. hell, it looks like she can hardly even move at all.

the sound of her pained grunts hardly affect you when you take her phone out of her pocket to delete the picture before putting it back again.

“sweetheart.” jeonghan says to you, and you look at each other for a moment. “she knows too much.”

you sigh, turning around to check if there’s any cars coming, but the road is remote and empty, and it’s late at night.

“who’s gonna do it?”

he wordlessly sinks down to one knee, staring down at bitna even when his hand squeezes her throat and the life leaves her eyes. he only closes his eyes when some splatters of the blood she was coughing up hits his cheek, which he wipes away with his other hand.

when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.

joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”

his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.

“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.

tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”

jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”

but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”

“no. i swear to you—”

but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”

it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”

joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”

“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”

“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience before it’s enough?”

jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”

joshua glances at you, seeing your distraught face, and the portion of trust he lost in his best friend, he chooses to find in you.

and so he believes it. he tells himself it was an accident, and does what he’s told.

the moment joshua walks back to get into his car, jeonghan peers at you, the flickering red light reflecting on your tear-streaked face. the emotions you were displaying mere seconds ago are entirely gone, replaced by something numb and indifferent in the blink of an eye.

it’s like looking into a mirror.

as joshua’s in the driver’s seat, jeonghan tells him what to do one last time before the younger of the two drives off, leaving only you and your brother behind.

what happens next is like a blur. jeonghan tells you something about a nearby lake, which is where he takes the body to get rid of it. once he returns, he’s empty-handed, save for the fresh blood on his conscience.

you’re in the driver’s seat, watching him get in beside you, his clothes stained with red spots.

he sits still for a moment, but as soon as you turn your head, he holds your chin and kisses you.

it’s far less gentle than before, more lust than anything, but it’s something you both need right now.

with your forehead leaning against his, you breathe into each other’s mouths. “we gotta go home, hannie. before our parents get back.” you whisper.

all he can do is hum in agreement, kissing you one more time before you start the car.

once you’re home, you park the car out of sight, as it needs to be cleaned and repaired.

you eventually manage to get into jeonghan’s room unseen. he yanks his stained shirt over his head, throwing it into the fireplace to get rid of every piece of evidence he can think of. you immediately go on to wash your hands by the sink.

it’s interesting for you to watch how he behaves at a moment like this — it’s hard to tell whether his thoughts are racing or completely frozen. he moves to the bathroom to scrub the blood off his hands and nails, going at it for several minutes until there’s not a speck of red left.

then he comes walking back, heading straight for the whiskey bottle on top of the coffee table to down two glasses in one go.

“you put up a show for joshua.” he states.

“what do you mean?”

“the crying. it stopped the second you knew he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore.”

kudos to him for being so perceptive. you didn’t think he noticed.

“so?”

he takes a few steps over to you. “i saw it. that moment your expression completely changed… i used to think we were different, in a way. but we’re really not.”

it only makes you shrug your shoulders. “and now? am i no longer a good person to you, little brother?”

jeonghan mimics the teasing in your tone. “i think being a good person is overrated.”

his tone and gaze and grip on your hips is harsher than usual, and as soon as he’s got you pressed against the wall, you realize he’s rock-hard.

“you looked so fucking good doing that. the way you talked to joshua, saying the exact things you needed to say to get him to believe you, the blood on your face—” he mutters, completely lost in his desires now that you’ve made them a reality, “you were perfect. my sweet sister.”

your nails harshly dig into his skin, hot arousal dripping between your legs. you pull your dress of and discard it onto the floor, taking a few steps back to his desk, pulling him with you with your finger at the waistband of his boxers.

“need you in me. please, i’m so fucking wet—”

after laying you back on his desk, he rubs his cock against your entrance, finding you soaking for him, and he has to force himself to keep his composure and not completely fall apart already.

a shameless moan escapes him when he pushes himself inside you, and his pace quickly increases, his mouth moving to your sensitive nipples. you wrap your legs around his waist at the sensation, and his warm saliva coats your breasts while he keeps fucking into you.

you don’t think the coil in your stomach has ever built up this fast. all you want is for him to keep fucking you throughout the night, and by the looks of it, he’s far from done with you.

he leaves hickeys all over your upper body, feeling more possessive of you than ever before, and you suck his cock so tightly into your cunt that he wants to stay like this forever.

“let me cum inside you, baby, please. wanna see it drip out of you — oh my god, please, let me have it—”

the sound of his begging turns you even wetter. “yes, yes, cum in me, hannie.”

it’s a mere matter of seconds before you feel him shudder, emptying himself inside you, and he looks down to see drops of his white cum seeping out of your dripping pussy. he watches you rub at your clit before you dip your finger inside, pushing his cum back into you, and his breath visibly hitches in his throat.

his cock has never been hard faster, and he rubs himself at the sight of your pussy, moaning when you begin to finger yourself in front of him, the wet noise ringing through his ears.

“let me fuck you again. wanna fuck you again so bad, baby, look at how wet you are, jesus christ—”

“want it harder this time, hannie.” you nod, pulling him closer to you again, and he’s utterly hypnotized, as if you’re some holy being speaking to someone beneath you.

and as always, he’ll gladly oblige you, so he sheathes himself inside, giving you exactly what you want.

you both lose complete track of time in his room, lost in your own world, waking up the next day to the news that the girl whose body you dumped into the lake is considered missing by the authorities.

it’s two days later when they discover her body, and as you’d hoped, the police appear to believe her death was an unfortunate accident rather than cold-blooded murder.

bitna’s funeral is grim.

it’s more crowded than you anticipated, but the majority of people attending are either family, current classmates or former classmates, you and jeonghan falling into the latter categories. you blend in well with the other attendees.

with your black coats and leather gloves on, you stare at the casket being lowered into the ground.

once the people leaving are out of earshot, the two of you glance at the tombstone. “what a shame. she was young.”

jeonghan nods slowly. “and she made a mistake by trying to meddle with business that wasn’t hers.”

“do you have any regrets? about the things that happened?”

“no. do you?”

“i should, probably. but i don’t.” you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “i have a feeling joshua is gonna lose his shit, though. he’s fragile.”

“you’d be surprised, actually.” he leans toward you, making sure that no one can hear him. “when bitna’s brother died, it was his idea to frame it as suicide.”

“seriously? i thought it was yours.”

“to be fair, i’d come up with the idea already, but i wanted him to be the one to say it. all he needed was me mentioning what the consequences would be — were we to confess what happened. the image of spending a solid part of your life in prison does wonders for some.”

deadpanning a stare, you snort. “you manipulated him into coming up with the suicide so he couldn’t blame you later on.”

a smirk tugs at his lips, yet he tilts his head. “don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“fine, you got me there.”

you both chuckle quietly, after which it’s briefly quiet. shifting your gaze down to the ground, you huff to yourself.

“well, i guess this is who we are when no one can stop us.” you sigh. “somehow always at the scene of the crime.”

“this is who we are when we take care of each other.” he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, rubbing at your clothed skin as he holds you. “you’re my sister. i’ll do anything for you — i want you to know that.”

“i do.” you nod, laying your head down on his shoulder. “i also know you don’t want me to protect you, but… i will. always.”

with a kiss pressed to your temple, he gives you his response to the sentiment.

sure, you and jeonghan may not share the same blood, but you are bound by the secrets you’ve shared and the blood you’ve spilled, and all you can feel for the future is… excitement.

thank u for reading. please let me know if u enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[candy69gurl]

hiii 🤗🤗 im new to your blog, i know you write dark fiction i was wondering if youd be open to some fluff? Like soft sex with sukuna?

Infernal Passion

Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, loss of innocence, size kink (Sukuna in true form with 2 dicks, 4 arms and abdomen mouth), mentions of violence (Sukuna eats humans but gentle only with you), use of nicknames, belly buldge, pussy eating, fingering (Sukuna has nails), nipple playing, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink, mentions of lactation

wc - 2.4K

ART NOT MINE !

"—Oh, Uraume, bring the new offering to me." Sukuna grumbles, his voice low and menacing. "Tie her up securely and make sure she knows her place. I won't tolerate any resistance from her." He smirks cruelly, savouring the thought of what's to come.

Uraume enters the room, dragging you by the arm, your eyes wide with fear.

Uraume ties you to a wooden post, leaving you bound and vulnerable. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your breathing has turned shallow, each gasp echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the many who faced the same fate as you.

"Ah, such a delicate little thing." Sukuna's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail of your body. "I can already taste the fear in your blood. It's going to be a delightful meal." He reaches out, gently running a finger down your cheek, his touch cold and calculating. "Such a sweet dessert after a huge feast."

"P-please d-dont eat me.. I-I don't want to die.. I beg of you", you plead, your body already limb under his gaze.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, studying your pleading expression. "Very well, I shall spare you this time." He leans in closer, his breath warming against your skin. "But you have to give me something in return.

"What do you have to offer me?" Sukuna asks, his gaze intense. "You must give me something truly valuable to earn my mercy today." He steps back, crossing his arms, and waits for your response.

You are trembling against his piercing gaze, words stuck in your throat.

"Yes, yes, I can tell you're frightened," Sukuna says mockingly, "but I assure you, I am quite patient. What do you think would please me enough to forget your insignificant life?" He watches you closely, examining your trembling form and the fear etched upon your face. "Perhaps your body could provide some sort of entertainment... Tell me, have you ever served a man before? Or perhaps multiple men?"

Tears stream down your face as you desperately search for words. "N-no." You whisper, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, "I am... pure, untouched." Your voice wavers, and you bite your lip nervously, hoping that your submission will be enough.

Sukuna's eyes gleam with interest as he studies your reaction. "Pure, are you? That could be intriguing." He takes a step closer, towering over you, his massive form looming over your tiny frame. "But I require more than just words, little one. Show me how much you value your life, and maybe I'll decide if it's worth keeping." He gestures Uraume towards his chamber, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Inside, you will find what I need. Fail me, and I will eat your heart and make you suffer until your last breath."

Uraume approaches you, their expression softening slightly as they untie the bonds restraining you. "Fear not, dear one. Lord Sukuna requires your purity intact." They whisper gently, helping you stand and guiding you towards the chamber, "We shall prepare you for his pleasure."

Within the chamber, a warm bath steams gently, and a pristine robe is laid out on a nearby stool. Uraume helps you undress and step into the water, washing away the dirt and fear clinging to your body. Their gentle hands work over your tense muscles, and their movements are confident and practiced.

As you relax in the warm water, Uraume carefully dries you off and helps you into the robe, adjusting the fabric to fall just right over your slender form. "You are ready now, dear one." Uraume's voice is calm and soothing, and their eyes never leave you. "Remember, you must please Lord Sukuna if you wish to live." They lead you back to the main room, where Sukuna awaits, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Well, well," Sukuna drawls, his gaze raking over your body. "Look at you, all cleaned up and ready for my pleasure." He runs a hand through his hair, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sukuna motions for you to approach the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as you move cautiously towards him. With a single swift motion, he removes your robe, revealing your innocence and vulnerability to him. "Ah, so tempting."

"You are merely a morsel in comparison to my size and strength, yet your innocence and fragility only add to your allure." Sukuna growls, his massive hands tracing gently down your slender frame. "And here I thought your kind were all tough and unyielding, but you are anything but. You're soft, delicate, and, oh, so delectable." As he speaks, he pulls you closer, your bodies pressing intimately together.

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, his erection pressing against your belly. "Your innocence is intoxicating, little one." He bends down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You taste fear and surrender, which only fuels his desire further. His fingers trail down to where your legs meet, hesitating for a moment before pushing on your legs.

Your eyes fail to meet his, a tender blush filling your cheeks.

"Such shyness is adorable." But you'll learn quickly that there is no escape from my desires." His red eyes devouring your innocence.

With that, he sinks to his knees, his tongue flicking out to taste your essence.

The great Ryomen Sukuna on his knees for a mere human like you, you think.

Your thighs shake, his tongue is huge, one slide is enough to cover your whole womanhood. He savours your shock and fear, letting them mingle with the sweet flavour of your arousal. "So good; you taste better than raw blood." He murmurs, licking and sucking at your tender flesh, driving you wild with both pleasure and terror.

You squirm and whimper against his tongue. "Ah, so sensitive." Sukuna growls, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of your arousal. "You're going to make me lose control, little one."

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise at your sensitivity, his tongue lapping up the flood of wetness that cascaded onto his face. This is unlike any human he has encountered before. He cannot remember experiencing such sensitivity from others. It makes him thirsty for more, for your submission and pleasure.

Your mewls and whimpers turn him on further. "Such sweet sounds. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna's voice is thick with lust, and his tongue never ceases its relentless assault on your sensitive core. He thrusts two thick fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls as you squirm beneath him, his nails brushing your walls drawing out moans from you, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

"A-ah, too much, Lord."

Sukuna groans low in his throat, fighting the urge to claim you right then and there. "If you can't handle that, how will you take my full length inside you?" He asks rhetorically, his fingers working in and out of you, stretching your wet heat in preparation.

Slowly, he eases himself free from his robes, his two massive members standing proud and eager. He positions himself at your entrance, taking a moment to let you feel the weight of his manhood pressing against your delicate folds. "Ready to accept what you owe me, little one?" A cruel smirk curves his lips, knowing you have no choice but to submit.

"Are you going to put both of them inside me?" You are terrified at the thought of his two lengths invading you.

"Don't worry, I won't," Sukuna responds, even though he wanted to push both his dicks inside you, the thought of your tender body feeling pain from it made him rebuff his thoughts. He gently guides his upper dick to your entrance.

Your thoughts are a mix of terror and confusion. You never imagined yourself in such a position—being taken by a powerful demon who holds your life in his hands. Yet, as he slowly pushes into you, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. You cannot help but wonder if this is how your end comes, consumed by this beast. But strangely, your body responds to him, arching into his touch, craving more even

You couldn't believe it. A creature of such immense power and cruelty is gentle with you. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the fear and violence that defined your encounter thus far. As he moves within you, you feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, yes, but also a strange sense of safety. It's an odd sensation to be at the mercy of a monster yet feel protected.

As he continues his slow, gentle thrusts, you can't help but wonder,

Was he capable of more than just cruelty and violence? Or was this just another part of his twisted game, designed to confuse and disorient you before claiming you completely?

"Feeling good, little bird?", he coos.

"Y-yes lord."

"Just for you, little bird. I'll be as gentle as silk." Sukuna whispers, his pace slowing down even further. His two hands hold your legs, and the third one strokes his ignored dick, a strange tongue formed from his hand slides against it. His fourth hand slides down to stroke your clit. The sudden burst of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

"It feels so good, Lord Sukuna."

"Good. Enjoy it while you can." His thumb circles your clit, tongue formed from his hand occasionally lapping at it making your body flinch, taunting you with orgasm and drawing it out until your core is begging for release.

"Please, I am going to release, my lord", you eyes pleading him to let you release.

"I know.." Sukuna's breath hitches,"I've never been so careful with anyone, especially a mere mortal." His voice dripped with arrogance.

His two shafts pulsated, straining for release.

He hisses at your tightness as you squeeze his dick, creaming it white. Your moans echo through the room.

"Ah, so sweet, hmph,"  he purrs.

Without missing a beat, Sukuna switches the shaft currently inside you with the one he was stroking. He leans down and takes the newly freed member into his abdominal mouth. The sight of his shaft being devoured by his cursed abdomen sends shivers down your spine.

Sukuna seems to notice the direction of your gaze."They both want to be in you, sweetheart. Perhaps not today... I shall claim you with one of my dicks only."

"Love you..," your tone barely audible.

"Love me?" Sukuna's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. This affection was unexpected, especially from someone he was about to devour a while ago. Yet, there is something intriguing about it. "Love? What do you know of love, little bird?"

He continues to move inside you, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last.

"I just know you are never going to hurt me. That's enough for me to love you."

Sukuna laughs cruelly, his hips moving faster now. His laughter echoes in the room, filled with both scorn and amusement. "Oh, how naïve you are. Perhaps I will love you back on one condition."

Your stomach bulges with each thrust, revealing a glimpse of his massive member. It moves in and out of you, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and pain.

With every thrust, your cheeks redden, and your eyes lock onto his.

"Will you be able to bear my child?"

You bite your already swollen lips, thinking your future with the curse king.

"Answer me!" Sukuna roars, slamming into you harder; his need for confirmation is overwhelming.

You swallow hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Yes! Yes, Lord Sukuna! I'll bear your child!"

"Good. You deserve my love then." Sukuna kisses your neck, then his tongue slides down your sternum to your breasts, his shaft disappearing entirely before re-emerging from between your legs.

"You'll bear my child, and you'll remember me every time you look at them. You'll remember your lord." Each word carries the weight of ownership, sealing your fate.

His eyes gleam with anticipation, imagining the sight of your breasts swelling with milk. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

"Imagine it, your nipples engorged, milk from them flowing freely. Yes, that would be lovely." His grip tightens on her hip, his thrusts becoming deeper and more possessive. His mouth sucks on your nipples while one of his hands pinches your nipples, thinking about how they would look, swollen and ready to feed his future kids. With each squeeze and suckle, you whimper, your body writhing beneath him. This is a future you never expected, but somehow, it excites you more than terrifies you.

His thrusts grow longer and slower, each one filled with possession and dominance. His mouth moves from one breast to the next, licking and sucking while his hand plays with the other.

"So close, are we?" His voice was low and seductive, promising pleasure and pain.

"Please, Lord, fill me. Fill me with your seed," you speak out the words you never imagined, you will say.

"So desperate, already? You beg well, sweetheart." Sukuna chuckles, his hips pumping faster. His breathing's ragged, and his gaze fixed on your face. "Are you sure you want this?"

Your lips swollen and red from biting as you let go of your moans while you orgasm again.

He does not wait for an answer, instead driving deep into you and filling you completely. His hot seed spills into your womb, marking you forever. His other dick squirts, landing on your chest and tummy. His eyes darken, and his entire body becomes tense.

"Now, you carry a piece of me. Forever bound to me."

Once spent, he collapses onto her, his breath ragged. His mouth found the curve of her neck, licking gently. "We have a deal, little bird. You bear my children, and I'll protect you. Our bond is sealed now."

"Look at you," Sukuna murmurs, pushing himself off your body. Standing up, he steps back to survey his art.

The mess is undeniable—your chest and belly covered in his seed, your thighs wet with evidence of their coupling.

His finger circles around your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

"How messy and used you look right now. Covered head to toe in my filth. I've claimed you and marked my territory for you. No one will dare touch you again. I'll leave you here to rest, my queen. When morning comes, Uraume will take care of you."

"I love you, my queen,"  he says, kissing your temple, letting you drift into the kingdom of dreams, where you are taking care of lord sukuna's kids.

[stellasdrafts]

Wanted/Woman (Arthur Morgan)

Summary: two stranger outlaws find themselves captured by bounty hunters (Arthur Morgan x outlaw!Reader)

Word Count: 3.8k

Content: female reader, capture and bindings, violence and death, light gore, mentions of infertility, forced proximity, manipulative reader, enemies? (not quite but they dislike each other) to tension, crude language, male slander

Notes: surpriseeee new hyperfixation (dw will still be writing for leon too!! just added a new fictional man to the roster yum). i imagine mid-honor Arthur for this :) (also idk shit about guns so bear with me thanks). this is kind of an amateurish attempt of mine at criticizing misogyny bc i’m pissed off about today’s political climate. cliché on purpose.

The last thing you remember before going dark is the stinging pain of being pistol-whipped in the face by some bounty hunter’s grimy revolver.

As your consciousness comes to, you see flickering firelight from behind your eyelids. Even before you open them, you mentally curse at yourself for even letting yourself get in this situation in the first place. You had always prided yourself on your talent of finding secluded areas to camp out in. As well hidden as they could be when your picture was plastered on fences and announcement boards across three states with a bold, capitalized WANTED above it, anyway. You suppose you had gotten comfortable – sloppy. You slipped up and somehow those bastards found the shitty abandoned house you were using as a hideout, ambushing you while you were stubbornly focused on patching up a hole in one of your boots.

It takes you a moment to gather your surroundings in the haze of post-unconsciousness. The tent you’re being held in is hot, despite it being dark outside. The air is thick – stuffy and incredibly unpleasant. The smell of animal carcass lingers on the canvas as if it had recently been used to hold some hunt. You hear the muffled sound of men discussing by the campfire roaring outside – something rather serious, you assume by the tone of their voices. It doesn’t sound like too many of them, only two by the clean back-and-forth flow of their conversation. Somehow, the most obvious detail of your capture is the one you register last – the burn of rope at your wrists and feet, and the warmth of another body at your back. You’re bound to someone.

Your heart rate picks up at the sudden realization and you tug, beads of blood drawing at your skin. You’d typically consider yourself a rational person, but with the fog of having just woken up, your brain jumps to the worst conclusions. There’s no way of knowing if the person behind you has been shot dead already, they’re completely still… That is until he speaks.

“Would you stop that? Rubbin’ your wrists raw won’t help either of us.”

Take a breath. You’re better than this. The bounty hunters outside are men, and now you know the person behind you is one as well. Maybe some good old feminine charm could be your ticket out of here. It wouldn’t be the first time your conniving passive woman act got you out of scrapes. They might kill the man first, anyway.

You look around, making sure to make him feel you squirm. Your breath quickens and you summon a more proper accent. You won’t go down. Not like this. “W-What the hell is happening?”

The man’s body shakes lightly behind you – the sonofabitch is chuckling. “Oh, quit playin’ dumb. I saw you when they brought you in. You got posters from here to Colter.”

You make sure to yank at your ropes the way a panicked woman would. He hisses at the pain and you’re glad you don’t have to hide your prideful grin. “No, I don’t know what’s going on! There must be some mistake!”

The hunters haven’t even checked in on the two of you yet, but by the timbre of their conversation outside when you awoke, they’ll get the gist of this one too, and you’ll be damned if this stuck-up man leads to your demise.

“There ain’t no mistake, woman.” Looks like there won’t be any fooling this guy. He must be in the business, you assume. “Tryin’ to play the damsel in distress won’t help you any, so quit your whinin’ and stop pulling at the damn ropes.

“I’m not!” You sniffle. “M’not who they think I am!”

You may as well feel his eyes roll. “Right. What’s your name then?” You give him your usual decoy as he attempts to sit up straighter. “And what’s got an innocent thing like you in this kind of trouble?”

“I don’t know!” you cry. “I was mending some clothes when they burst in my house and knocked me out!” you recite with ease. It wasn’t a total lie, after all.

The man listened to your sob story, wanting to get a read on you, you presume. “Is that right? You were… just sewin’ when they magically came out of the woodworks and took ya?”

The goddamn attitude on this man… “Yes!” You start crying again. “Oh god, this can’t be real!”

You hear your companion let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, cut the dramatics, darlin’,” he grumbles. Twigs snap outside and both your heads whip in the direction of the two hunters’ shadows near the flaps. He lowers his voice. “I know you’re puttin’ on that act and it’s getting’ real old. It’d only work on someone dumb as rocks so-” he’s interrupted as the two bounty hunters waltz in, surely having heard you wailing seconds prior.

You flinch hard and make yourself fall to the side. You’re a pathetic, blubbering mess – the complete opposite of what they’ve surely heard of the outlaw they were chasing. You will make them doubt themselves. Manipulation is your specialty, and men are so simple minded~

“Please! Please-”

The captors look a bit startled by your distress. One of them, the bulky one, kneels down at your side. Men just can’t help themselves, can they? They just have to save the pretty tormented girl. He tries to soothe you by placing a grubby hand on your knee. “Calm down, sweet thing.”

You try to hide your recoil. It’s not like you can scoot backward anyway, since you’re tied to the pessimistic wanted man. “P-Please, will you just tell me what’s going on?” You blink with tear-soaked lashes, being a convincing little housewife.

The hunters share a look, as if silently trying to contemplate the legitimacy of your cries. The bulky one returns his attention to you, seemingly placated. “We ain’t gonna hurtcha unless you give us a reason to, sweetheart. We’re just here to bring you down to the sheriff’s office.”

You hear the other wanted man scoff behind you. Surely, they weren’t actually falling for this?

The taller one hanging back grins cockily. “Gonna get us that nice little bounty on your head,” he adds.

It’s your turn to bite back a scoff. Little? There’s nothing little about a hard-worked two-thousand dollars on your head alone. You’d even been dubbed Bullseye.

For your own sake, your eyes go wide as saucers, as if you’re truly repulsed by the idea of having committed any crimes. “Bounty?! That’s impossible. I’ve never sinned in my life. Please, there must be a mistake-”

The tall one chuckles and you feel flames of anger licking at your insides. “Oh, there ain’t no mistake. You must’ve done some reeeeal bad things. Bounties like that ain’t given out for no reason.”

The bulky man nods to corroborate his friend’s words, but judging by its slowness, he seems a bit more apprehensive. “…You seem too soft to have a bounty of a couple grand on your head.”

Your new wanted companion whistles from behind you, impressed.

“Goddammit, Wilson!” curses the tall one.

There’s the crack you need. You keep pushing, sensing the foundation crumbling between the two. You shake your head feverishly. “I don’t know who you think I am! I’ve told you my name. I’m a housewife. M-My husband’s name is Elijah. Really, I barely ever go out. I don’t know what’s going on here.”

The two idiots glance at each other again, brows raised. Wilson tilts his head. “Roberts, maybe we fucked up. I mean, look at’er! The law has been after the girl for years. The… The posters are old. They’ve been up so long that they’re kinda faded… Maybe her and Bullseye really do just look alike.”

The tall one – Roberts – doesn’t answer right away. You’d venture to guess he’s more trigger-happy than his partner. “I didn’t see no husband inside the house.”

“He’s off on business in the next county at the moment.”

Again, they seem to communicate without speaking aloud. Wilson stands with a groan and nods in my direction with urgent eyes, evidently commanding Roberts. The latter steps forward with a sigh, his arms crossed. “Fine. I’ll bite. If that’s the truth, miss, how long you been married?”

You smile weakly, pretending to recall a memory. “Since my Elijah and I were nineteen.”

“All this time and no children?”

You drop your shoulders and strategically let your smile fade. You’ve been waiting a while to use this one. “No, sir, I been having… issues,” you admit shamefully. And you’re so proud of yourself that you hope even the non-believer tied to you is starting to wonder if he accused you of being a liar a little too quickly.

Both the hunters are taken aback at that. A woman shouldn’t be talking about private matters to strangers. The dumb bulky one breaks the silence first. “I-I’m sorry about that, ma’am…” he mumbles awkwardly.

You nod solemnly and wipe a skillful tear from your cheek with your shoulder. “I begged him not to go- begged him! A-And now I’m tied up-” You gasp and try to put some distance between yourself and the man you’re tied to, but it only yanks at both your binds. “Does that mean I’m tied to a killer?! Oh God!” you cry and squirm violently.

Wilson raises his hands the same way one would calm a horse. “Ma’am, calm down-” In an attempt to calm you down, he grabs a knife from his belt and cuts your wrists’ bindings while Roberts rushes to make sure the other outlaw doesn’t try to pull some stunt. Unlike yourself, he leaves him fully bound and secures him to one of the tent’s support posts.

Now that you aren’t back-to-back with him, you catch a glimpse of his face for the first time. Oh shit. You recognize him immediately – it’s impossible not to, not in your line of work. That’s Arthur Morgan, one of Van Der Linde’s men. One of his most feared men, actually. No doubt he has a pretty bounty on his head as well.

You don’t have time to dwell in your thoughts because that half-witted hunter speaks again. “I won’t untie your ankles, though. Can’t have you runnin’ off on us until we’re sure you ain’t it,” he says with a chuckle.

You want to punch that condescending little smirk right off his face… But you can do even better.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of running.”

“Well, that’s good ‘cau-”

He trips over his words when you snag the knife from his naively relaxed grip and jam it into his neck with all your might. As he topples over, you swiftly grab the revolver from his holster and shoot Roberts a couple of times in the chest before he can even react.

“Goddamn fools,” you mutter as you undo the rope around your ankles, seemingly unfazed by a tied-up Arthur Morgan some feet away from you.

Even writhing on the ground, Wilson disturbs your newfound peace, gargling on his own blood. You roll your eyes and put a bullet between his own. Standing, you stretch your limbs, rubbing where the rough rope had dug into your skin. You retract the bloody knife from the bounty hunter’s neck, giving it a twirl. It was a pretty knife, engraved with some intricate swirls. You earned it.

You finally look up at Arthur. “You were right, I s’pose.”

“Seems that way,” he replies, carefully watching every movement of yours. You’d seen that look in men before. He was trying to gauge if he was going to be the next recipient of your wrath.

You grin and lean back against some crates, enjoying seeing such an infamous man be so unsure. “Now, what to do with you?” you ask rhetorically.

You watch as his eyes go from the dead man at his feet to your calm figure. Evidently, you had managed to impress him. Pride swells in your chest. He nods toward his bound ankles. “Well, are you going to get these off? That would be greatly appreciated,” he inquires dryly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You hum, giving the knife a couple more twirls. “I bet, Van Der Linde.”

The outlaw raises a brow, otherwise utterly composed. “So you know who I am… Or at least who I run with.”

“Mhm.” You trace the edge of the bloody blade with your index. “You’re no small feat, Arthur Morgan.” You push off the crates and nod at the corpses on the dirt. “They would’ve lucked out.”

“I’d say the same for you,” he replies, his gaze unrelenting.

The two morons had spoken your alias, but it’s the fact that Morgan recognized it that sticks with you. A sick sense of satisfaction bubbles within you at the knowledge that your name has been spread to one of the country’s most notorious gangs.

“Well ain’t you sweet,” you quip sarcastically.

Arthur looks down at Roberts, mere inches away from him. “Your aim on him could’ve been a bit better, though. Too far right.”

You? Aiming anything other than perfect? You scoff, your eyes narrowing as you search through a sack on the crates for your confiscated guns. “I don’t have to let you free.”

“And I don’t have to be pleasant,” he retorts gruffly, and for a second, you’re reminded of who you’re talking to. The adrenaline from your victorious escape begins to simmer down and you realize that perhaps you shouldn’t be speaking to an accomplished killer this way.

…But you’re one yourself.

You look over your shoulder with a smile. “You’re tied up, hun.”

The man scowls. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Amusing, this one. But perhaps you aren’t exactly in the position to have Dutch Van Der Linde and his boys on your tail for taking out their best man. You sling the bag full of your belongings over your shoulder and crouch before him, pushing Roberts out of the way with one foot. “I can’t see why we can’t be amicable, can you?”

One of his brows quirks up. “Depends on your definition of amicable, miss,” he dryly speaks your family name.

“Charming manners.” You tilt your head. “I reckon we ain’t that different, you and I. Two of the most notorious criminals. Everyone knows our names. We were, well-” you gesture to his bound current state. “-both tied up. On the same team, if you will. We live the same lifestyle. I don’t see the point in goin’ off and tattlin’ on each other.”

Arthur lets out a quiet huff. “So you’re suggestin’… What, an alliance?”

“I’m suggestin’ silence. You go off without worryin’ about me sending the law after you, and I do the same.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?” He’s skeptical, and you can’t quite blame him after he’s just witnessed how you swindled those men.

“It’s a two-way street, Mr. Morgan. I’m the same as you, it’d be hypocritical to turn you in. Plus, I don’t quite care to alert the law of my presence by going in to report you.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Fine. But I’m not forgettin’ this.”

But his mention of an alliance lingers in your head. You hold up a finger. “On second thought, I’ve got a better idea. More fool-proof terms, if you’re hesitant to trust me.”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not enjoying being at your mercy. “And what would those be?”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “It’d be idiotic for members of the same gang to snitch on each other, wouldn’t it?”

A look of realization washes over his face. “It would,” his voice drops lower, not liking where this is headed.

“Then, I’ll be joining the Van Der Lindes. I’m tired of sleepin’’ with a pistol in my hand.”

His expression shifts, seemingly amused by your conviction. “Oh, are you?” he retorts with a chuckle. “What makes you think they’d even let you in?”

You grin. “You knew exactly who I was when you heard those twits call me Bullseye, that’s what.” You stand up straight. “And you’re going to give me a shining recommendation.”

“Am I, now?”

“Mhm… Or I could throw you on my horse out there and we could have ourselves a nice little ride to some sheriff’s office. I figure Saint-Denis would have the most intense security. You don’t think they’d recognize me if I just rode by and dropped you on the doorstep, do you?” You jeer as you rummage through the tent, looking for anything of value to take.

Despite your threats, a small smirk creeps onto Arthur’s face. He takes a moment to study you, weighing his options.

“Confident, ain’t ya?”

“With reason.”

A beat. You just stare at each other.

“Can you untie me already? We’ve got a lot of ground to cover to get back to camp.”

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word count: 4360

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Rader is a little mean to the boys in this chap, but she's just defending herself! everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 -)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hii beautiful people!! I'm finally back with the second chap of this story! It took me longer than the first one, sorry for the delay! hope you enjoy it a lot! You would help me a lot by liking, reblogging and commenting! Without further ado, thank you very much and enjoy!

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... that sound definitely wasn't the rain....

Your senses were sharpened to the maximum again, your hand gripping your weapon tightly and securing it close to your body. Your heart and breathing seemed to be in a race to see which one was faster, but you could be sure that your heart was the winner, as you could literally feel it pounding in your ears. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, nerves and anxiety on edge, you tried to swallow to moisten it, but your attempts were futile. You could feel tears stinging your eyes from the desperation you felt.

"Holy shit..." your voice was barely a whisper as you tried to process what was happening. You tried to calm yourself and sharpen your hearing so you knew how many men you were up against. Your room suddenly seemed suffocating and tiny, you felt the bubbling of a panic attack in your chest, you felt like you were going to die, your mind kept telling you that your minutes were numbered. You started to shake as one shudder after another went through your body like lightning, it was desperate and terrifying. You quietly climbed down from your bed and approached the door of your room on tiptoe. You wanted to listen better, because despite your fear, dying was not an option, not after surviving for so long. Breathing shakily, you leaned your ear against the door of your room, trying to catch a sound. Fuck, you had no idea what to do, fear made your legs shake slightly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the intruders were breathing heavily and panting, a sign that they had been running. Their clothes were soaked from the heavy storm outside, so the floor was filled with small puddles of water and some mud "Fuck, that was close..." one of them said, trying to catch his breath, putting a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart as he leaned against the front door, holding it shut.

How stupid you were. In the midst of crying for your mother, you'd forgotten the most important thing: securing the fucking front door of your house.

"It was all Jake and Ni-ki's fault, we almost got caught by the police!" another voice shouted, pointing at the named ones who looked at him with a mixture of indignation and disbelief, while the first boy who had spoken looked at him with wide eyes, signaling him to shut up.

"Excuse me? no no, no way, it's not our fault, no one forced you to come with us Jay..." another of the voices said with a distinctive accent, his words tinged with contempt "And try not to scream, the police might still be around.." Jay frowned and approached this one with indignant steps "Don't be an idiot Jake, we can't let you go off alone in the middle of the night, you know crime has risen too much in the last few years, there's a reason the government declared a curfew after midnight, fuck..." his voice sounded frustrated as he looked at him seriously. "'You're a grown man, you should have a little more conscience, you both could have been killed..." he said this time with more seriousness and concern, scolding him firmly in a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air.

Definitely none of them wanted to die, let alone go to jail, Jay was right, they couldn't just leave in the middle of the night and put themselves in danger and worry the rest of the group. It was a miracle they had found this house, a few more minutes and the police would have caught them.

"Well, sorry, it was my idea Jay Hyung..." another deeper voice said as he scratched his neck a little embarrassed and looked at the elder "Anyway, we're all fine," he said this time with a little cheeky but guilty smile trying to break the tense moment.

A sigh was heard, followed by another clear voice. "It's okay Ni-ki, make sure you don't do it again please..." he asked firmly but at the same time calmly as he looked at the one named and also at Jake who nodded silently, feeling a little guilty, he had quite a bit of leadership in his voice. Ni-ki nodded, "Okay, Jungwon Hyung..." Ni-ki's deep voice hung in the cold air of the house as Jungwon sighed again.

The house was silent for a few seconds as the boys looked around and surveyed the place, ignoring the fact that they were freezing to death from the water that had fallen on them in the middle of winter. And it had occurred to Ni-ki that it would be fun to leave (escape) from where they lived at three in the morning, Jake saw him trying to leave and joined him on the pretext that he "couldn't let him go alone because it was too dangerous", which brought them all here.

Ni-ki was the youngest of the group, which of course made him the most rebellious, and someone like that always needed an accomplice, which was Jake most of the time, which led to both of them getting into trouble quite often.

"It's a nice house...strange that it's abandoned..." another voice, different from the others, a little softer, broke the silence, praising the architecture of the place, your place. And it was true, it was a huge house, with a modern vintage style. Another of the boys nodded in agreement as he shook his head a little, trying to get the water out of his hair, "Yeah, Sunoo's right...it's pretty nice for being abandoned..." The words hung heavy in the air as the boys looked at each other, seemingly searching for answers, there seemed to be an immediate understanding between them as the named one nodded and the seven began to explore the living room, their steps cautious in the new suspicion that someone already lived in the house. Even though it seemed empty, they had to make sure they were out of danger.

On the second floor, you had managed to identify seven voices from your room, where you were still trying to calm down. So they were being chased by the police for breaking the curfew, tsk...men. Your breathing was still fast, but as you listened to their conversations, you managed to calm down a bit, knowing that because of their actions, it wouldn't be very difficult to deal with them.......

or so you thought

You could hear them walking around your living room and decided that you needed to listen more closely, their voices were a little muffled by the distance. You were about to open your bedroom door slightly, but what sounded like something falling to the floor startled you slightly as your free hand instinctively grabbed the doorknob, as if holding on to it would somehow protect you from them.

"Shit..." cursed the voice of one of the guys whose name you hadn't heard yet, furrowing his brow slightly "Pfff...what an idiot, Heeseung Hyung..." Ni-ki said, letting out a laugh as he sneered at the older one, watching as he crashed into a nearby shelf, causing a ceramic jug to fall and shatter into several pieces on the floor.

Heeseung turned his head to look at Ni-ki with narrowed eyes, "Aish...hey, what a brat...i can't see..." mild annoyance ran through his dramatic voice as he defended himself and pointed at Ni-ki who was still laughing. The other five boys chuckled a little at the amusing situation between the oldest and the youngest of the group. They got along so well, you could hear a certain camaraderie in their voices, as if they had known each other forever "I mean, ....Ni-ki isn't wrong..." the other boy, whose name you didn't know yet, remarked with a slight sideways smile that showed his fangs a little longer than usual, a cute, not-so-usual attraction.

Heeseung looked at him without any amusement on his face, judging him with his eyes. They had this habit of teasing him, not that he really minded, but he was tired, hungry and soaking wet, not in a good mood "Really, Sunghoon, you too?" he shook his head in disapproval as Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders without saying anything else and let out a small chuckle. He was really stressed out too and fuck, the current situation had affected him a lot, he hadn't had pussy in over four fucking years and he fucked so often that he was really going crazy.

Not that he was a pervert (or maybe yes), but he excused himself by saying that "fucking relieved his stress and made him perform better in his daily life"

But he had never experienced falling in love, only one-night stands, just like the other guys. The hope that he could have pussy faded deeper and deeper in the back of his mind, and he resigned himself to settling for his own hand. But he refused to accept that idea, he still had some hope. He didn't just want to fuck, he wanted a woman he could love and who would love him, he wanted to be a good love and he also had a dream of being a father, something that obviously seemed unattainable for Heeseung, in fact it seemed unattainable for the seven men.

They really wanted to fall in love...

In fact, they were all stressed about the lack of pussy.... Even Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were still virgins and had never been able to bury their sad cocks in real pussy, were sexually frustrated. But for Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon and Sunoo, the feeling of being trapped inside a pussy was like nothing else in the world and now they could only remember and even imagine because fuck, four years without sex, it was like being a virgin all over again.

But come on, their hearts needed to be stimulated as much as their cocks.

Jungwon cautiously approached the now non-existent jar on the ground, bowing slightly and examining it, "If someone was here, they would have heard us by now..." he mused with a calm expression. He straightened as he turned to look at the other boys, they were like his family, he had known them for many years and loved them like his brothers.

The only thing that illuminated the living room at the moment was the light from the occasional thunder light that came through the window like a horror movie. It was a huge place, enough for everyone to be comfortable "I think we can either spend the night here or keep the place, after all, the one we had was getting too small for the seven of us..." he looked at them, waiting for a sign of denial, but they all seemed to agree.

It wasn't a bad idea, after all. They were in the middle of the forest, far away from the city, where there was more crime by the way, and the place seemed quite cozy. Besides, if Jungwon said so, it was because it had to be. He always made sure that everyone felt comfortable, even though they often fought like siblings, which was sometimes funny, Jungwon always prioritized everyone's well-being.

"Well, we should look for the bathroom, clothes and blankets, I'm freezing...we could take a bath..." Sunoo spoke for the second time, articulating each of his words with his hands. The boys nodded. A hot shower sounded great after running through the forest in the rain, so much that their legs felt tired.

"Good idea, we should split up, go through the rest of the house and look for the things we need..." fuck no, if they went through the rest of the house they would definitely find you and that couldn't happen, they couldn't find you, so you had no choice but to find them before it was too late.

Sunghoon's voice was full of determination as he explained his idea to the others, who immediately agreed. But before they could take action, you beat them to it for your own good.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you..." Your voice finally echoed through the living room with newfound certainty, causing a sudden hush to fall over the place. Your gun was pressed against the large back of one of the seven boys, who was now undeniably tense, you could tell by the way the muscles in his back were contracting under his clothes. He was tall, blond, and seemed to have well-defined biceps.....

"No, idiot, this is not the time to think about biceps, concentrate" You mentally scolded yourself.

Instinctively, he raised both hands to let you know that he was not going to attack you. His hands were shaking slightly and he was completely stiff as he felt the cold metal of your gun against his back, which, in addition to your distinctly feminine voice, sent shivers down his spine.

From your vantage point, you could see the faces of the other six boys, pale and still as if they had seen a ghost. And no wonder, they must be more confused and shocked than ever. The torrential rain that pounded against the windows and roof was the only thing that filled the deadly silence. It was the first time you had seen people in years, your heart was beating fast in your chest and you couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement...

or perhaps a mixture of both.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of them tried to move forward, his hair was a deep red, but quickly there was an instant click in your head as you pulled the safety off your gun, making him flinch in place, your survival instinct was at its peak "Take another fucking step and I'll blow your friend's head off..." your voice was cold as was the expression on your face, your breathing rapid, matching that of the guys in front of you who seemed more nervous than you.

Your eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and even though you were scared shitless inside, you didn't want to let it show, you didn't want them to notice your weakness. This time you leaned your gun against the back of the blond boy's neck, indicating that you meant business.

Fuck, they couldn't let something go unnoticed, something they thought didn't exist anymore and that they would never see again in their lives, suddenly the reality they lived in took a 180 degree turn when you appeared, you were a woman, fuck, you clearly were, and you stood in front of them and threatened to blow Sunghoon's head off with one shot. It all seemed like a lie, the last four years of their lives began to have an unbearable weight on their backs when they saw you. They began to think they were hallucinating and had to blink several times to process the information. Even so, their throats felt dry and their eyes couldn't take their eyes off you. Sunghoon began to feel impatient, yes, he was scared, but he also wanted to see you, so he gathered all his courage to speak

"M-Miss...we don't want to hurt you..." you idiot, he mentally cursed himself for stuttering slightly and scrunched up his face in an expression that clearly said 'I screwed up', he who never hesitated in front of any woman had just done it with you, which left his ego a little bruised, but he didn't care.

You clenched your jaw as you heard him speak, pressing the gun harder against his head, making him tense up even more, if that was possible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...really, we don't mean any har-..."

Pathetic, he begged pathetically, but a mixture of fear and emotion controlled him at that moment, he couldn't control it.

"Shut up...you talk too much for someone who is being targeted..." your voice was cutting and harsh, making it clear that there was no room for discussion in your words, making Sunghoon shut up immediately as he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

You had to find a way to control the situation, no matter what. You grabbed the boy's soaked shirt from behind and pushed him down, "Get on your knees..." you ordered firmly and he obeyed immediately, kneeling on the ground, you don't have many options when you have a gun pointed at you, making it so that everyone could see you better now. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you couldn't trust them, not yet, "You too, idiots, what are you waiting for?"

Yes, maybe you were too harsh, but you had to guarantee your survival first and foremost.

With the seven men now kneeling on the floor in front of you, you sighed and thought about what to do next. You weren't going to kill them, you weren't that kind of person, even if it gave them a free hand to hurt you, you just weren't that kind of person. But letting them go wasn't an option either, what were you going to do, stay with them? you didn't know them, the most you knew was their names and from the way they looked, they were all around your age.

"Are you really a woman?" the voice of one of them broke through your cloud of thoughts. Oh God, you didn't think they were that stupid, he really just asked you that?

You raised your eyes to look at the boy who had spoken, your brow was clearly furrowed, he had some blue strands in his black hair "Jay, shut up for God's sake," Heeseung spoke softly, clearly scolding him, really, he couldn't believe his friend had asked that. But he didn't blame him, he was just as or even more stunned than Jay by your presence, which made him move slightly in his place, not wanting to alert you, he really couldn't believe his eyes either, actually none of them could.

While you thought intently without saying a word, your gun still rested on Sunghoon's head. You bit your lower lip, trying to think of a quick solution, but damn, this was clearly going to take a long time. A sigh left your lips, you were sleepy, your body was aching and your head was going a mile a second, which made your mental situation difficult as well as putting your thoughts in order. In addition, you couldn't see much because there was no light and everyone's eyes were on you, which inevitably made you a little nervous.

Meanwhile, the boys' minds were no better off than yours, still trying to process that you actually exist and are not a figment of their imagination.

Hell, they even wanted, no, they had to be in Sunghoon's place. Just knowing that you were a woman got them going, but what about your assertive dominance? The way you had brought Sunghoon, who was probably one of the strongest in the group, to his knees with a simple command from your lips was fucking attractive.

The tension in the air was thick, not only because they were threatened at gunpoint, but also because there was an undeniable sexual attraction and tension between you and them. It was impossible to control, something instantaneous that left them with their breath caught in their throats and their cocks already half hardened in their pants, including Sunghoon himself. They didn't want to look like dogs in heat or perverts, they didn't want to scare you and make you think badly of them, but it was something that was simply out of their hands.

The cold they had felt from being soaked earlier vanished at a ridiculous speed and was replaced by warmth. Their faces were slightly flushed and now that they knew you were real, they couldn't help but imagine a lot of situations in their twisted minds, but damn, besides being hard, you were beautiful, a temptation at a glance that made them clench their thighs as their erections went wild.

Sunghoon, who was closest to you, was the most affected, he could even smell your scent, so soft and delicate, the scent of a woman. He stopped himself from inhaling your precious scent with all his might, forgetting that the tip of a gun was pressed against his head.

Jungwon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in your presence, which was quite strong, "Miss, please..don't hurt us... we can just go and..." a dry laugh came out of your throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, cutting off his words, "Sure, I'll let you go so you can shout that you found a woman all over Seoul..." Your words were clearly sarcastic, rejecting his suggestion outright, making Jungwon quickly shake his head in an attempt to contradict you, but your gaze was enough to make him stop trying.

"Then you'll have to let us stay here..." the rational sense of Heeseung had left his head when he dared to say those words with a tone of boldness and obviousness as he looked at you with slightly half-closed eyelids, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It infuriated you, how could he be so arrogant when you could literally kill him at any moment? You looked at him as you let go of Sunghoon and approached him with quickened steps. You grabbed his jaw with one of your hands and roughly lifted his face to look into his eyes while resting your gun on his forehead. Your eyes betrayed your anger, but he seemed too relaxed for his own good, "You better shut the fuck up, because if you don't..." the asshole didn't let you finish as he blatantly interrupted you, "If I don't, what?..." he dared you, not only with his voice, but also with his eyes.

How fucking dare he?

"You're not going to kill us..." he said, his fucking grin getting bigger and bigger, "if you wanted to, we'd all be dead by now from the moment you walked into this room, precious..."

Oh fuck, he couldn't be that fucking arrogant, but he was right, you wouldn't kill them and you hated that he could read you so easily without even knowing you.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to break his ridiculously attractive face, because that was one little detail you hadn't been able to overlook, they were all fucking attractive, but you couldn't afford to think about that when your top priority had to be keeping yourself safe.

You clenched his jaw with your hand, your fingers digging lightly into his skin, causing a small sigh to leave his lips, "You're right, i may not want to kill you...but I'll blow your fucking balls off if you keep spitting shit..." this time he didn't dare interrupt you, instead he seemed to be lost in limbo. His gaze was fixed on your lips as you spoke each word with furious determination....

Fuck, you had fire in you

The formula was simple: danger equals adrenaline, adrenaline equals thrill, and thrill equals arousal. There was no other way to explain why they enjoyed danger so much.

The others were waiting for the scene to unfold in front of them.

So you weren't going to kill them. A relief settled in their chests when they realized that you weren't a bad person, you were just defensive, which was completely normal when seven intruders enter your house in the middle of the night. Jungwon had quickly understood and realized that Heeseung had been the first to notice, that's why he dared to talk to you like that. Now the group was less tense, they trusted their oldest member, they knew that Heeseung wouldn't risk doing something he wasn't completely sure about.

"All right, no need for anyone to get hurt, miss..." Jungwon interrupted what seemed to be a dueling stare between Heeseung and you, his words a little more confident now that Heeseung had taken it upon himself to break through the layer of harsher tension, but still he was being cautious.

Your eyes didn't leave Heeseung's and you didn't take the gun away from his head either, but his words echoed in your head and honestly, you didn't have much of a choice. Curiosity bubbled in your chest, you wondered what to do, you had been alone too long, you remembered nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so scared. Maybe letting them stay was your best option, you knew you were the last woman on earth, you were sure that if you asked them to do something, they would do it without hesitation and maybe they could protect you. Bring you out of your state of loneliness, which seemed to grow with time.

The boys' knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long, but the tense situation in the living room was too tense for any of them to try to make a move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, including you.

A sigh escaped your lips when you realized that you would have no choice but to let them stay here, but if that was going to happen, it would be under your own rules. You didn't want to be alone anymore, which didn't mean that you were going to blindly trust them overnight, because trust was a luxury you could pay dearly for if you decided to put all your cards on the table.

You let go of Heeseung's face and slowly lowered your gun, your gaze, still quite hard, shifting from him to the other guys as you took your time to study their expressions.

"Alright..I'll let you all stay..." you finally declared and your words were an immediate comfort to the seven men in front of you, but before any of them could say anything you continued "But..." you fell silent for a few seconds, letting the anticipation fill the air "if any of you do anything stupid, i swear...

i will kill you..."

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @suhwife @elairah @merwdusa @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonly @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsaika @immelissaaa

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 1]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.1K

(Chapter warning(s): Character death, grieving/ funeral, injury, recollection of previous argument, Hongjoong is in a weird place with his feelings.)

"Thank you for coming." Hongjoong had a stoic look on his face as he deeply bowed to the people that came to pay respects. The people bowed back, reaching out to shake his hand with a comforting smile on their faces.

"She was a good woman. Kind." They patted him on the shoulder. All he could do was stiffly nod in reply.

"Please help yourself to the food and refreshments." He forced a small smile and gestured to the buffet spread where the other people were all seated.

"Should we ask him to take a break?" Yunho leaned over to ask Seonghwa as the older collated the beoseom money together.

"You can try but he's not going to like it. Just let him do what he needs to do." Seonghwa replied.

"Hyung loved his mother. They didn't have the best relationship but I know he always missed seeing her and talking to her." Yunho sighed with a small frown. Seonghwa hummed in agreement.

"But this is for him to figure out. We'll just help him where he wants us." Seonghwa said.

Hongjoong recognised all the people that came. All friends of his late father and now, mother, or his own allies. They were men that worked for him or with him. Although they didn't know his mother at all, he knew that Wooyoung had gathered all their men to come and support him as the leader.

"Oh, coming." Hongjoong noticed some people going to pay their respects and went to his post as the son, keeping his head lowered as they bowed to his mother's casket.

"You have our condolences, Hongjoong sshi. If you need anything, let us know." The leader of a small gang shook his hand.

"Thanks." He nodded. Hongjoong knew their motive, it was to create favours and forge loyalties with Ateez.

"Umm, excuse me." Hongjoong looked up at the sudden entrance of a light, tinkling voice. He eyes fell on the girl that entered, she looked so different, sticking out like a sore thumb.

Who are you?

"Here you go." You took out an envelope of money and handed it to Yunho and Seonghwa, who received it with a bow.

"You can head that way." Seonghwa gestured to where Hongjoong was standing. From the looks of it, Seonghwa seemed just as entranced and/or curious about you as Hongjoong was. You nodded and headed to him.

"You must be Hongjoong sshi." You looked at him with familiarity, still cradling the small bouquet of flowers in your arms. All Hongjoong could do was nod.

How did you know him? He, for sure, didn't know you. There wasn't an inkling of recollection seeing your face or hearing your voice.

"If it's okay with you, can I place this bouquet by the casket? It's our favourite flower." You asked politely.

"Go ahead. Thank you." He nodded. 'Our' favourite? His eyes followed you as you placed the bouquet of white tulips by the casket. The bouquet was simple but elegant.

"I'll miss our afternoon chats. Take care of yourself and rest easy." You prayed softly as you bowed to his mother's casket.

"Thank you for coming." Hongjoong said to you when the both of you stood up from your kneeled positions.

"S-Sorry..." Your bottom lip quivered and tears streamed down your face as you struggled to wipe them all away. There was so much grief and upset on your face, you probably felt more grief than Hongjoong did. Hongjoong held his handkerchief out to you but you hesitated, you didn't know him to take it.

"It's okay." He whispered, trying to convince you. With a shaky hand, you took the white cloth and dried your tears. All this time, Hongjoong was trying to study you.

"Thanks." You smiled awkwardly.

"How do you know me? Did you know my mother?" He asked, even if the answer was obviously yes.

"She comes by my shop almost every afternoon to chat with me. She'll even bring tea and snacks with her. I recognise you from the photos she shared with me." You giggled.

"I see... Well-"

"Hongjoong hyung, there are more mourners. Do you want me to take over?" Someone came over.

"No, it's fine, San ah." Hongjoong assured his brother and bowed his head to you before going back to where the casket was. You tucked the handkerchief into your pocket.

"There are snacks and refreshments." You were directed to the area where the other mourners were chatting, eating and drinking. There were barely any other women around, all men dressed in suits. It almost felt like a business convention, not a funeral.

"Who is that?" Wooyoung asked San when he came back to where they were seated.

"No idea." San shook his head. The 7 Ateez members watched you with curiosity. You sat in the corner by yourself, you didn't take any food or drinks.

"Do any of you know her or recognise her?" Mingi blinked.

"I think she genuinely knew my mother." The boys looked up to see Hongjoong standing behind them.

"Really?" Even Seonghwa was shocked too. They all knew that everyone who came didn't know Hongjoong's mother. How did someone like you befriend Hongjoong's mother?

"She's definitely not from underground." Yeosang said. You were still wiping stray tears that escaped your eyes.

"She's... really grieving the lost of my mother... Even more than me." Hongjoong observed.

"Her name is (y/n)." Yunho said, reading from the mourners book of those that came. The others didn't even notice that Hongjoong left them, going over to where you were seated alone. When Hongjoong pulled out the chair next to yours, you blinked, breaking out of your reminiscing moment.

"Apologies." He said.

"Don't apologise, you must be busy having to do this on your own, on top of the fact that you're mourning and grieving too." You shook your head with a soft smile.

"I have a good support system." He nodded over to where the other Ateez members were.

"You must haven known my mother well to know her favourite flower." Hongjoong brought the conversation back.

"She always came to buy them from me, along with other flowers. That's when I learnt that we both have the same favourite flower. I'm a florist actually." You informed.

"Oh... And here, I didn't even know my mother had a favourite flower." He chuckled.

"Hongjoong sshi." You shocked him and frankly, yourself too, when you placed a hand over his own in comfort.

"I'll miss her too but it'll be okay. From the way your mother spoke fondly of you, I could tell that you both had a great relationship. At least you'll still have your good memories of her with you." You smiled softly. Suddenly, Hongjoong retracted his hand.

"Excuse me." He stood up, buttoning his blazer. He watched as your face fell.

"Hongjoong sshi. I-I'm sorry." You stuttered, realising what you just said to him and how your words crossed a boundary. Hongjoong clenched his jaw and walked back to where Ateez was.

"Woah, hyung. You okay?" Jongho asked, noticing the sudden change in Hongjoong's mood and expression.

"I'm fine." Hongjoong replied through gritted teeth.

Despite what happened, you still stayed until the final standoff. Hongjoong was unexpectedly hypervigilant of where you were, standing on your own at the back of the crowd.

"Hang on." Before the Ateez boys could load his mother's casket into the back of the hearse, he stopped them.

"Captain?" They were confused. Leaning down, Hongjoong grabbed a stalk of flower from your bouquet and placed it on top.

"Carry on." He cleared his throat, side eyeing you. You were watching the entire time as you cried softly to yourself. All the mourners that hadn't left bowed to the hearse as it closed. Hongjoong, still holding his mother's picture, walked to the front seats where he would follow along to the burial site.

"We'll follow behind, hyung." Wooyoung said to him. Hongjoong nodded and entered with Mingi closing the door behind him. The 7 entered their respective vans that were prepared.

As the hearse began to pull out of the drive way, Hongjoong spotted you walking along the streets, arms hugging yourself.

"Who are you?" He whispered as you walked further away.

When the news of his mother's passing first came until this moment, Hongjoong hadn't shed a tear. Was he cruel or unfilial for not doing so? Or were tears just a sign of weakness?

"Good memories?" Hongjoong turned to his mother's picture, remembering what you said to him.

You sighed as you made your way into your apartment. After you removed your shoes, you fell back onto the couch.

"I can't believe you're gone." You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes again as you thought about Mrs Kim and her not being around any longer. Maybe because you grew up without a mother, she was the closest thing to a mother that you had.

"Can I help you?" The doorman asked when he saw how confused you were upon entering the building.

"Oh, good morning. Sorry to bother you but I'm looking for Mrs Kim? I hope I have the right address." You scratched your head, bowing to the older male.

"Do you mean the Mrs Kim that stays in the penthouse? I'm sorry but she passed away yesterday." He informed.

"W-Wait, what?" You couldn't believe it. The flower bouquet slipping from your hands.

"Are you okay, agashi? Yes, unfortunately, Mrs Kim passed." He picked up the bouquet, placing a hand on your shoulder. It was so shocking you couldn't even cry.

"Are you family?" He asked. It took you a while to answer as the news was still sinking in.

"N-No... I'm not but I knew her..." You tried your best to form a coherant answer in your head but it was too difficult.

"I'm sorry, agashi." He said sadly. You bowed your head and turned around, leaving the building. When you reached home, you searched funeral homes online and there it was, her name and her picture. It only solidified that what the doorman said was true, the closest person to a mother that you've had was gone.

"I can't believe I said that. (y/n), what did you do?" You facepalmed when you remembered what you said to Hongjoong. Who were you to tell him that?

"He's her real son, you're not." You scolded yourself, holding Hongjoong handkerchief in your lap.

Mrs Kim always spoke about Hongjoong with such a sad smile, indicating that their relationship wasn't amicable.

There was love, of course. But you could hear the regret and guilt in her voice. All you knew was that if you were to run into him again, you'll definitely apologise for overstepping.

Hongjoong seemed cold but you were grateful that he placed one of your flowers on top of her casket before the hearse left. Whether it was done for you or for her, Hongjoong's gesture warmed your heart.

-

"Where's he?" Seonghwa asked as he climbed up the stairs to the second floor. The younger ones nodded over to Hongjoong's back. The captain leaned against the banister of the terrace, a glass of whiskey held by his fingertips.

"He's still there. Been there since we've come back." Yeosang informed.

"(y/n) (y/l/n). She's a florist in Hongjoong hyung's territory, studying botany part time. Practically as normal as it gets." Jongho walked over, closing a folder. Seonghwa took it and read it.

"As long as she isn't a threat." San shrugged.

"Far from. If there was a motive for her to get close to Mrs Kim, it's not in the file." Jongho said, pouring himself a drink.

"But damn, she seemed to be closer to Mrs Kim than Hongjoong hyung was." Mingi stated and Seonghwa slapped the back of his head for being so direct.

"What? It's the truth..." Mingi rubbed his head. Yunho sighed, patting his best friend's back.

"Hyung will be fine, right? He has to be. He's our captain and our leader. Let's just give him some time then he'll bounce back like always." Wooyoung said with a small frown. Seonghwa nodded in agreement. Although Hongjoong suppresses his feelings and emotions, he always puts Ateez first.

"Yes, Hongjoong will be okay. He just needs space now. And don't bring up the girl anymore, okay?" Seonghwa said. The younger 6 nodded their heads obediently.

"Hyung, what happened between Hongjoong hyung and his mother?" San asked.

"No idea. Even if I did, it's not my story to tell." Seonghwa shrugged.

He is Hongjoong's best friend and second in command, but he didn't know what was Hongjoong's relationship with his mother. It was almost a love-hate relationship, for Hongjoong at least.

"Go back to work. Give Hongjoong a few days off, I'll be taking over his duties in the mean time." Seonghwa informed.

"Sure, hyung." All of them split up to go back to work. Seonghwa cast one more worried glance at his best friend's back before leaving.

Hongjoong sighed as he took another sip of whiskey. Even as he shovelled the dirt over his mother's casket, he didn't shed a tear. The heartache was there but he couldn't will himself to cry. He watched as the flower he placed on top got sullied by the dirt.

"She's really gone." He breathed out.

"You're really gone." He repeated as if he was speaking directly to his mother, clenching the glass in his hand.

You, the girl that appeared out of nowhere, seemed to have a much better relationship with his mother than he did. You cried while Hongjoong was emotionless.

"Damn it." Hongjoong must have channeled all his frustration to his hand because before he knew it, the crystal shattered into pieces.

"Hyung!" Yeosang rushed out, having seen the whole thing.

"I'm fine, Yeosang." Hongjoong hissed, cradling his now injured hand. Yeosang gently took it into his own hands, looking at how bad is was. Blood began to drip on the tiles.

"No, it's not fine. There's crystal shards in your hand now. Come." Yeosang frowned and brought Hongjoong in.

"Get someone to clean the terrace." Yeosang said to a passing butler, who nodded with a deep bow. He brought the captain to his office where his medical supplies were. Thankfully, Hongjoong didn't protest and sat down, patiently waiting for Yeosang to get what he needed to treat his hand.

"Don't move." Yeosang said as he took forceps and tried to remove the crystal pieces from the cuts. Luckily it wasn't too deep that he would need stitches.

"Are you not going to ask me anything?" Hongjoong asked as Yeosang took a magnifier to look for any smaller pieces.

"No. What's there to ask?" Yeosang asked back. At that, Hongjoong sighed and just leaned back in the seat.

"This is going to sting. Bear with me." Yeosang took the antiseptic and spray it over Hongjoong's hand, causing the leader to let out an onslaught of curse words and winces.

"I saw the butler cleaning glass on the terrace. What happened?" San came in.

"Just a small accident." Hongjoong sighed again, watching Yeosang use gauze to wrap up his hand.

"We're done. If it starts to bleed through the bandages, you have to get them changed. If not then I'll check on them in a few days." Yeosang said as he used clips and medical tape to secure the bandage. Hongjoong nodded and stood up.

"Thanks, Sangie." He left Yeosang's room. San stared at where their captain disappeared to.

"Everyone deals with grief differently, whether they want to admit it or not." San said and Yeosang let out a hum in agreement, clearing the bloodied gauze and area.

"He'll be okay. Hyung is strong." Yeosang assured.

When Hongjoong went upstairs to go back to his room, he walked past the second floor lounge and saw a file there.

'(y/n) (y/l/n)'

So, the boys went to search up on you and who you were. Reaching down, Hongjoong took the file and tucked it under his arm, retreating to his room.

"Florist... Studies botany... That's it?" He read the file as he walked. If there was anything else, even secrets, he knew Jongho and Yunho would have found it by now. No piece of information escapes those two. They can source information about a person's entire life on their computers, it's why they're the best.

"Oh?" Hongjoong paused, eyebrows raising when he saw the location of your shop. It was in the territory that he took care of, which was also the area where his mother's house was.

Despite that, Hongjoong has never once visited his mother nor has he spoken to her in years.

"How could you do this? How could you do this to me?! To us?!" Hongjoong yelled, seething with so much anger.

"I know... I'm a horrible mother, I'm sorry Hongjoong ah." His mother shook her head, tears in her eyes as she faced her angry son. She didn't even bother to give an excuse.

"Why?! Why would you do this?" He faced her, his own tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I couldn't just standby and watch. I couldn't." The woman wrapped her arms around herself pitifully. This time, Hongjoong didn't hug her.

"After everything, you'll still side with him. After knowing what he did to all of us, including you, you still..." Hongjoong shook his head, unable to finish his sentence. He was just filled with so much rage he couldn't even breathe properly.

"Get out. I never want to see you again." He turned away, hearing her soft footsteps leave his office and disappear.

"Seonghwa." Hongjoong called out, knowing that his second in command was standing nearby and most probably overheard the entire exchange that happened.

"Yeah?" Seonghwa walked in.

"I want her out of here now. Buy her a house or whatever, somewhere I don't have to see her." Hongjoong ordered.

"Sure, Hongjoong." Seonghwa bowed his head and exited the office. Hongjoong let out a yell, angrily swiping everything off his desk. Papers flews and things broke but he didn't care.

Seonghwa ended up buying his mother a penthouse apartment in the territory that Hongjoong managed. Although Hongjoong didn't like that idea, Seonghwa gave an excuse that at least Hongjoong could keep an eye on her.

He didn't know that Seonghwa did that so if he ever wanted to see his mother again or let her make amends for what she did, he'll know where she is.

But it was too late anyway. Hongjoong's mother was gone, there were no more amends to make, no more apologies.

"Great relationship? Good memories?" Hongjoong bitterly scoffed once again when he remembered your words, throwing your file aside and going to take a much needed shower.

He needed to get out of his head.

~

Series masterlist

[avelera]

Thinking about Hob Gadling in 1589, or rather in the decades leading up to 1589 when we see him as Sir Robert Gadlen

Thinking about how he went north, twice, to come back as his own son, presumably to build the myth of the Gadlen family. Before that, as a soldier, a brigand, and a tradesman in printing, he probably didn't have enough money to need to "leave it" to a son, because he'd had no real assets. No houses, no businesses, nothing besides his weapons and armor, the proverbial clothes on his back, and what spoils of war could be carried with him.

But to make money you have to spend it, you have to have it, you have to invest it. 1389, the year of Hob gaining immortality, corresponds to the birth year of Cosimo de' Medici, the man who would establish the great banking dynasty of Florence, Italy. I note this because this transformation in Europe corresponds with Hob's progress through immortality and rather roughly corresponds to when, as I see it, he would have moved from an individual soldier of fortune to make his living to needing some sort of continuity of identity if he was going to move beyond that.

In this instance, pretending to be his own son (or relative) would be a necessity to inherit his own wealth so he could carry it forward for the next 10-30 years, before he'd have to reinvent himself again. The money to buy a knighthood would be the work of generations.

I'm thinking about Hob building himself up from being a printer's apprentice (because printing was so new a trade that it was probably one of the few where he could get in as a man perpetually in his 30s, most apprenticeships would require you to begin as a child) to gaining his knighthood. By his own admission of faking his death twice by 1589, he'd be Robert Gadlen the Third, possibly the Fourth (not that this was a naming convention back then for commoners, but more to illustrate where 1589 Hob stood in the line of his own fictional family inheritance).

The first half of the 1500s in England under Henry VIII still saw a predominance of nobility holding the lion's share of power, but it did see something of a shift where you had noteworthy men rise to great heights from common origin, like Thomas Wolsey and Thomas Cromwell (yes, I'm rewatching Wolf Hall, why do you ask?).

But now to the point that got me thinking about this: imagine Hob in the 1500s. At the beginning of the century he is the first of his name, building his fortune. Robert Gadlen, who made his money in the printing business then invested it, through a great stroke of luck in to the powers-that-would-be that century: the Tudor shipyards. Hob building himself from very nearly nothing, peasant stock, nothing more than a soldier and a brigand before that. It's still grubby to build oneself up from trade, better to have been born to wealth of course, this isn't American Yankeedom and we're before the Puritans, where showing one's hard work was a virtue rather than an ugly necessity of the common people. But Hob still did it, with his own hands.

Imagining Robert Gadlen II, and Robert Gadlen III, the "scion" of a family on the rise, sniffing around the edges of the Tudor court, eventually finding his way in, having enough gold to buy himself a knighthood.

Imagining Robert Gadlen, meeting one of those common men in the service of Henry VIII, noting with chagrin their own common birth, the sons of blacksmiths and butchers, unlike Sir Robert, whose father was a man of means who left a growing fortune to his son.

And I can't help but imagine Hob smiling, a little slyly because he did it, he slipped passed the censors, no one knows of the fact he was born to peasant stock almost 200 years ago, and no one ever will. As far as anyone knows, he was born wealthy, a gentleman in the rising social consciousness that all it takes to be a gentleman is to have the money to act as one.

But I can't help but wonder if that smile would be just a little uncomfortable, too. Because no one will ever know. No one will ever know that Sir Robert Gadlen didn't inherit his money, that he's not some child of nepotism and generational wealth who has never worked and never starved. He is the founder of his own family, he built it himself and with each generation that goes by he has to leave more and more of that story behind him. Except with Dream.

[ladythornofrivia]

UNKNOWN CALL -

Billy Loomis x Transfer Student!Reader

summary: billy stalking the transfer student who moved in Woodsboro at the wrong time.

Warning: stalking, vouyerism, smut, blood kink, violence, blood, p in v sex, oral fixation, spying, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, masturbation, cheating, dark content

a/n: IM BACK! i went AWOL for so long. I missed you guys! I know it’s been a while. I’ve been obsessed watching Scream and Billy Loomis is my new fictional crush. I hope you all enjoy!

Casey’s death spread in throughout the town, even in Woodsboro High School. Girls and boys alike went straight to their homes, while the reporters and cameramen scattered around the grounds.

People were getting scared. Reporters interviewed and intervened as the police men began to search and investigate, hoping to get more evidence. Due to the murder, all stores were shut down in a strict curfew.

When you got transferred into Woodsboro High, you introduced yourself into the class. Everyone gave the same boring expression, except for one guy, Billy Loomis, with a glum expression in his eyes gained a little sparked when he first saw you, the transfer student, who’s bright and ambitious.

His bored posture straightened, and his pout turned into a subtle smirk.

Little did you know you came here at the wrong time.

Casey’s death was still cold. By the end of the class, the group went and discussed by the fountain—all five. While Randy was making theories about the death, Tatum theorized regarding to the killer being a female. Stu carelessly throwing words here and there as Billy was mindlessly focusing elsewhere, almost bored.

“Stu was with me last night,” Tatum defended, and someone else was with us, too that night—oh there she is. Y/N!” Tatum stood up and waved.

You were walking around the ground, in a call with someone. When you look up, you waved back at Tatum in excitement, rushing towards the group.

“Y/N, really?” Stu looked at Tatum in disbelief.

“She’s been a great help when it comes to homework and knows what goes well with the hangout.”

As you approached, Billy held a soft gasp, taking a long examination of you clad in sleek outfit in turtleneck in pastel violet and frilly skirt with white kitten heels.

The first time Billy saw you beforehand, he thought you looked perfect in cherry red and black with ribbon on your neck. From head to toe, you were immaculate. From head to toe, you we’re innocent, in a way you’re oblivious to your surroundings.

You’re a transfer student, who came in at the wrong time—a day before Casey’s death.

“Speaking of hanging out, Stu was with us last night. Do you recall that?” Tatum asked you.

“He’s there with us last night,” I said to Randy, then facing them, which Tatum slapped Stu and Randy simultaneously as a victory. “I was watching a movie while you guys were too busy making out.”

“We’re too busy making out because it’s a Disney movie,” Stu protested, whining.

“A Disney movie!” you said incredulously. “Nothing wrong with the cartoon classics! And I want something light but you kept on insisting with horror thriller! And Tatum want an action movie.”

As you find yourself giggling, Billy’s eyes lingered onto your figure, hoping Sidney wouldn’t notice.

Hearing the sound of your laughter, it was…authentic. Other girls would approach him in a ditzy laughter, no fun, but, with yours it’s real, not a poser.

“Aren’t Disney movies, like for children? We’re adults now,” Stu was pumped up.

“Um, we’re still in our teens. Nothing wrong with that,” you said. “Besides, I’d rather watch something that’s light.”

The moment your eyes met Billy’s, it created a spark once more in his heart, his mind reeling on a more…bloodier aspect of you.

His eyes darkened, and thought you looked better in red.

Billy gave a small smile at you, hoping you’d notice and smile in return.

As you did, it was a glimpse.

Billy knew you’re way innocent.

“Anyway, I gotta go now. Do some homework and watch tv. I’ll see you all later,” you said, approaching Tatum for a hug, and waved goodbye as you leave.

Billy deeply glanced the way you sashayed with your hips with confidence, something his poor, another innocent girl, Sidney lacks.

The way he flinched after Sidney gave him a goodbye kiss and left after Randy and Stu were making poor puns of a corpse while eating their food.

“Liver alone,” Stu said, cackling like a howled monkey.

Billy looked at the sight to where you’ve gone, your figure disappeared in the sight under daylight, and felt a heavy sigh heaving from his chest, and released a softer version from his lips.

He’d never want you to leave.

In fact, he’ll make your mind change.

+++

In the next few days, people were still talking of the murder, and Randy worked at the store, stacking new VHS tapes of the rom-com genre, when Randy rambled on and on about how everyone could be suspect, it caught everyone’s attention as well as Stu mocked Randy. And when Randy expressed his likes for Sidney, Stu told him he doesn’t stand a chance, despite Billy was busy talking to other girls, eyeing on him while he’s eating a gummy candy he bought from the candy store.

When Randy went ballistic, Billy and Stu cornered him, commenting about how Randy used the word “millennium” wisely before Billy heading back to his usual routine, watching anyone who might suspected him.

And in his hopes, hoping they were none.

Entering, you returned a Disney film and went into another section to grab another flick to watch—rather use as a background noise for homework and cleaning.

At the aisle, you looked for a film, Interview With A Vampire. You read the book seven times and your curiosity peaked when there’s a film version, starring Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. You’re so occupied in your world, you didn’t realize Billy was standing behind you.

“Oh—hey watch where you—” realizing it was Billy, who flicked his brow up at you, you said, “sorry about that.”

Billy slicked his greasy hair back. “No worries. I was in the way…” His eyes darkened, monitoring your figure and saw a peek of your cleavage when you grab the last copy of the Interview with a Vampire. Billy examined your attire, it was all black—leather and short, with your cropped shirt studded with spikes, and a leather mini skirt with fishnets. You were wearing a choker with studded spikes and roses, with a ruby stone placed intact at the center.

You tucked a strand behind your ear. “What movie are you looking for?”

Billy couldn’t function for a moment. “I was busy looking for…”

Your brow quirked. “For?”

“A film, like that,” he said, pointing at the copy you’re holding.

“Oh this?” you lifted the flick. “Yeah, I want to switch it up for tonight. I thought about what Stu said. I must be so lame, watching Disney films,” you giggled, shying away.

“Are you into vampires?”

“Yes. And werewolves and witches,” your smile gleamed. “Gothic movies are my thing.”

“We could try watching a slasher film. In fact, I was about to get one,” Billy insisted.

“Sure, I have to watch this movie first,” you said, despite not liking slasher or supernatural movies.

Billy nodded hesitantly. “I see. Have fun with your film.” He chewed on a chewy candy.

You stared at the gummy candy he was holding as soon as he plucked the last piece.

Billy noticed.

“You want it?” he asked.

He liked the tasted of the gummy flavored candy due to the sweetness of corn syrup.

“No, it’s okay,” you said, your hand waving it off.

Billy placed it on your hand while clasping your wrist with the other. “You can have it. I got full and tired from trying to search a movie. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah…See ya.”

You stood there, looking dazed as he walked away, not realizing Stu and Randy were watching both of you.

+++

After settling your homework, you gone out into the kitchen and made some light snacks—two packs of Lay’s potato chips, gummy candy you recently got, and a grabbed a drink—Sprite, and a leftover chocolate cake to speed up the process in homework and extra credit.

At home, it was slightly humid, but you turned on the AC, cranked it down to level 70, as you changed your girlish clothes to a tight-fitted clothing. A white cropped shirt with mini black sports shorts with two white stripes on the sides. You locked all the doors, and turned on the lights—inside and out.

Setting the VHS tape of Interview with a Vampire, the phone rang.

After placing the remote down from turning the volume on, you answered the phone call.

“Hello,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hello, (Y/N),” an unknown voice answered.

Your heart stopped. And turned around. Your parents weren’t there yet.

“May I ask who’s calling?” you said with confidence.

“Someone who’s interested in talking to you.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sorry I’m actually busy doing something right now. I have no time for idle chat.”

“Watching a movie, I assume?”

Your heart stopped again. “Yes...I was..”

“So what movie are you watching?”

“I’m watching a movie, one with Brad Pitt in it.”

“Ahh, so you’re into hot older men,” the unknown caller intrigued.

“Well, actually I was more into vampire-looking men,” you remarked. “I liked watching movies that particularly interesting to me.”

“Sounds…interesting.”

You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, my movie’s about to start.”

“Are you with your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be watching…Interview with a Vampire?”

Your heart dropped again. You were about to scream.

You stepped into the living room, covering the TV. “Um, seriously, dude, this isn’t funny. I haven’t had a cup of coffee since this morning. I’m in a caffeine addiction. I need myself to keep up all night and I’m super-duper hungry. Don’t fucking test me when I’m not on caffeine mode.”

“My, my,” the unknown caller mocked, clicking his tongue. “Aren’t you the feisty one?”

“What do you expect? Me screaming? Or calling the police? I know you don’t want that shit. Nobody wants to get a permanent record.”

“Ah, smart girl. I was starting to think you’re like any other girls,” he bemused.

“What do you want? Do you want money? Jewels? Drugs? You want my dad’s expensive watch that costs $1000? Fine, I can offer you those. Although not drugs because drugs are bad and I don’t think it’s healthy to use drugs.”

The unknown caller howled in laughter. “I want none of that. I want to play a game with you.”

You paused, weirded out.

“Is this some kind of a—”

“Question one. What’s the name of the infamous killer in the film Halloween?”

“What? I never even watch horror movies!”

The unknown caller. “Uh-oh! Somebody’s in trouble~” he said in a sing-song voice.

“I’ll give you money,” you insisted, urgent.

“I told you, you stupid slut. I don’t want your money. Answer my question.”

“Um…” you tried to think, hand pounded at the back of my head. “Michael…Michael something…Michael Myers! I know he killed his sister, Judith Myers.”

“Good, very good,” he said. “For someone who doesn’t watch horror films, you knew about him.”

“I’ll give you everything you want, you can live in a rich life—you can travel to Aruba or Jamaica, just please let me go—”

“‘Next question,” he interrupted. “What’s the name of the main character in the Nightmare of Elm Street?”

Panicked, I said, “I thought anyone would’ve love money.”

“Answer the damn question,” he snarled.

“Um…it’s the one with Johnny Depp in it, right?”

You haven’t watched the original horror film. But maybe you did just a bit.

“Ahh, older men again,” he bemused. “As expected from you.”

“Come on, dude, let’s talk this out. I can give you my snacks and soda.”

He howled again. “You’re a funny girl, offering a stranger with food, hoping for my belly to be sated. But you’re not going to get away with it tonight, I’m afraid.”

Shit.

“Um, is it…Nancy Thompson?” you guessed.

“Correct. See? I knew you had it in you.”

“Can we just—”

“Final question. If you get this answer correct, I’ll be gone. If you get this answer wrong, you’ll suffer the same fate as poor Casey.”

Your heart thundered.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He chuckled. “I’m serious. I never let my victims go off so easily. Say a word to the police, I’ll fucking rip your guts out—”

Pain seared into your head. “I’ll give you my virginity.”

The phone call went silent.

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll give you my body. And if you’re satisfied with my offer, then that’s great. Who knows, I might be naked, right now. And I don’t have a boyfriend. Besides, I don’t think anyone is interested in me.” your voice saddened at the thought of you being bored.

The unknown caller didn’t answer.

“But then again, you might be dissuaded with me and—”

“Take your clothes off.”

Huh?

“Take off your damn clothes,” he demanded.

“You can see me?”

He chuckled. “Take it off now, or this offer of yours might expire in a second.”

You shook your head. “Okay.”

Stepping in the middle of living room, you took off your shirt, lifting it, you heard an intake of breath when he saw your underboobs, and when tossed over, he couldn’t believe what his eyes see.

Perfection.

“Good. Good girl,” he praised, he undo his pants, revealing his enlarged cock, jerking.

When you took off of your shorts and thongs, his hand went in fast motion, moaning through the phone.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” Billy encouraged.

Over by the sofa, you spread your legs, unveiling the vibrated toy—after you retrieved it nearby and inserted into your hymen as you circled your clit with the other hand. Head threw back, you moaned aloud, and Billy’s climax was getting near. He didn’t expect a good girl like you to be…bad.

“Keep going,” he said, hand already tired, but his dick was in the closure.

With a final insert, you came in your vibrated dildo.

So did he.

“Ah, that was beautiful,” he commented, his breath ragged. “I never had girls do this kind of performance.”

“Whoever you are, I hope you enjoyed it.”

You hope he wouldn’t spread your explicit show.

“I’ll let you off the hook. For now.”

And then he hang up, leaving you in a total mess.

What will you say when your parents about to go home in the next four hours?

+++

Taking off of his mask, hiding in your downstairs closet, Billy wished he could’ve stayed forever. With a girl like you, he wouldn’t mind keeping you around. But with his plan—his revenge to Sidney, he wanted to kill her so he could be with you, the transfer student.

He’s willing to make you as his for eternity.

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