#It took everything I had to write this out coherently

[sxcret-garden]

nr 6 for ateez 😝

<<333

6. What song I love my bias the most in.

I'm gonna do all biases because nobody can stop me and I'll start with San because among the three I have the least amount of thoughts for him ksdfjskfjas (sorry... also this is under the cut because..... you'll see kasdjflkdöas)

ok first of all... mist. his voice sounds so soft in the entire song and he's singing this so well??? also in arriba his short line right before the last chorus sounds SOOO good, i really love his voice when he sings with that energy!!! another song that just has to be mentioned here is turbulence, he's so dramatic in the second chorus but i think that's what made me notice his voice especially in this song!! also inception, because of the vocals, but also because of his choreo in the chorus!!!!! (to mention choreo once in the entire post lol)

I'm semi-normal about wooyoung's parts, so I'll do him next aksdjfklsa and i just want to say celebrate. like????? the very first time i heard that song my immediate reaction to his parts was that they need to let him sing like that more often!!!! he sounds SO GOOD there????? and when he gets the right lines you can actually hear that this guy has a lot of power in his voice (idk, i tend to notice this especially in songs where the first time a line appears they give it to jongho and then the second time wooyoung sings it, like the comparison just makes it so clear how much energy woo has in his voice when used right!!) idk i've been dying to say this somewhere and i WILL say it again so!!!!!!! (alsoalso to mention choreo a second time - the lil butt shake in crazy form, like that's so him and so cute and he looks so happy doing it too 🥺)

now for jongho.... the answer is every song ever but i'll try to single some out (brace yourselves because i will not shut up anytime soon) askdfjklas and i'm gonna start with silver light because i'm listening to it right now and like... his adlibs in the end plsssssssss i love them so much!!! and OF COURSE i also have to mention this world because omgggggg he sounds so good in the chorus hhhhh (in general i am absolutely IN LOVE with how they use their voices throughout that album, and his especially - part of why it's my fav album of theirs!!) ok but the song that actually came to mind first for him is also celebrate, because have you heard his adlibs at the end? have you HEARD them????????? this guy is actually insane. i also wanna mention don't stop because he barely gets lines on the lower end and... yeah, ouch aksdljfksjadlk i also feel the need to mention cyberpunk here... but i'm thinking of that one stage they did on music bank especially, because this guy sounds even better live and everytime he does that one high note i ascend to whatever heavens there may or may not be aksdjfklsad and before i shut up i'm gonna remind you all that he was on lee mujin service (i am begging you to watch it if you haven't yet) and i cannot put into words how much i love his cover of don't go today, i'm really not a ballad type of person but holy shit... yeah.. just watch it.... (idk i just get so happy listening to him sing and Do His Thing and go a lil insane with it because he's just THAT good and knowing that he's put so many years of work and practice into building that skill is really admirable to me and also kinda motivates me to work hard on the things i enjoy too so :/ ilovehimokbye)

(also the much needed honorable mention: yeosang in halazia. he's not a bias but used to be so it counts aksdjflksa no but seriously if kq doesn't let him have more lines that are actually in his range i will throw hands.)

send me a number and a group~

[rinsnumber1fan]

Playing a prank on the blue lock men by leaning down when they're manspreading as if you're about to give them head but you're really just picking something off the ground.

Featuring: isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, kaiser michael, sae itoshi.

Itoshi Rin:

After seeing this trend, you puckered up your lips and squinted your eyes, glancing at your boyfriend who sat on the bed of his apartment watching a soccer game on television. You had acquired your target and locked up.

Rin was very focused on the TV screen, his eyes didn't move from there and he tapped the remote every once in a while to pause and write something down in his notebook, whilst munching on some snacks on the table infront of him. He's so focused it's almost cute. Then there was you, you had noticed one of his pens down right next to his foot.

Your plan went into action, you stretched very nonchalantly and got off your place on the couch. He didn't pay you any attention, continued writing, you took it as a sign to keep going.

You went down on your knees, he turned his eyes down and he froze for a moment when he saw you right in between his legs, your hair tickled the cloth on his thigh. His breath hitched but he prepared himself, leaning back slightly. "Y/n.." he breathed out. He even closed his eyes.. but he didn't feel your hands anywhere or.. your mouth so he flickers his eyes and peeks but when he doesn't see you down there anymore he blinks in confusion and slight irritation.

"Sorry about that, you dropped your pen." And you placed it down to his desk. He blinked slowly, "right.." murmured but he'd never admit he thought you were going to do something else.

Isagi Yoichi

He's sitting on his bed while he's doing something random. He said he wanted to cure his boredom and get interested in anything small that doesn't involve soccer. It was an experiment of his to see if he's really obsessed with soccer that he won't play or involve soccer in everything.

You were sat beside him, helping him out with the art he was doing, applying paint on his brushes as he tried to paint on a canvas for the first time and yes it looked like shit. You were.. increasingly bored. You didn't want to watch paint dry, literally. Do you came up with a plan. A master plan.

You accidently drop the paintbrush right next to isagis manspread. You lean down, and isagi flinches but he looks down at you "whats wron-" the words die in his throat when you pull your hair back and glance up at him.

"O-oh okay.. um.." He immidently turns red, leans back and places a hand on top of your head but he almost whimpers when you lean your head south. And you grab the paintbrush. He freezes. In embarrassment.

"Uh- you- what--" He stammered unable to form coherent words. And you just smiled innocently "I dropped this." You hung up the paintbrush.

Sae Itoshi

Sae was really tired, he had countless meetings with different managers to arrange different matches with him. So when he returned home to his cute girlfriend he just sat down on the couch like a dead body. An exasperated sigh leaves his mouth but he doesn't calk you, he's too tired to.

You return to the living room, offer him some water as you glance at his dead body. You knew he was tired and exhausted but.. you really wanted to have some quality time!!! So you tried everything.

From "how was work?" And he replies with a deadpanned expression "don't ask." And you smiled because you had no fucking idea if you were supposed to ask him again after that. "Want some water?" You asked him with a slightly concerned expression and he blinked "no.. thanks." WHAT NOW?!

SO you pulled the ultimate move.

The ultimate attention giver.

You had a piece of food under the bed from the takeout you ordered when sae was out. So you decided to do it. You got on your knees right infront of him and he gave the subtlest of a reaction but he spread his legs a little bit more.

His eyes were half lidded as he undid the first button of his shirt. "You couldve given me a warning or something, love." He murmured in a deep voice but you just looked up after collecting that piece, "Huh? What?" You acted all confused and sae seemed just as confused.

"Drop the act." He would urge you as you got on your feet again. But he pulled you closer by the collar, "really? A prank like that after I'm so exhausted?" He sighs. "Get on your knees" He shakes his head in slight annoyance but a little bit cocky. Your cheeks turned pink but you complied anyway.

We all know what happens after that.

Michael Kaiser.

He had his glasses on as he read some book with full attention.

When the attention should really be on you!!

He didn't even compliment you after you dressed up so prettily to come and visit his apartment. So naturally you had to resort to other means.

While he's distracted by the essence of his book, his hand circles around your head like he's patting your head, just enough to let you know my book is important so I'm gonna only pat your head.

You decided its time to use the onlt way you could to get his attention. You bent down, kneeling before him, pulling your hair back and he raises a brow, "mm? Such a good girl I didn't even have to ask--" and not even in a moment you got up and sat back down with a normal expression except with an eraser in your hand. "Huh?" You tilted your head "what are you on?" You asked again.

Kaiser blinked once twice "I thought you..." He licked his lower lip. "Nevermind.." He didn't wanna bruise his ego by mentioning he expected you to suck. But after this prank he got a lot more touchy with you. In the end, he got that blow job anyways.

Plan? Worked.

A/N: LEAVE A COMMENT PLSPLSPSLS

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, unprotected sex, profanity, heavy degradation, bsf mean dom!sunghoon, petnames (slut, bad girl, baby) — wc: 1k

SUNGHOON knew you wanted it. it was written all over your diary that was hidden under your bed just how badly you needed him. all you needed was some guidance so that he could fuck you right.

he managed to succeed luring you in, which didn’t take much effort.

all it took was to show up at your front door wearing the black shirt and grey sweatpants combo you droll over whenever he wears it.

he excuses his unplanned visit of accidentally leaving his wallet behind.

in reality when was sunghoon last in your place? it was months ago—always choosing to meet up outside or at his, never at yours since your best friend always preferring to take care of you. such kind hearted that left you yearning for more.

however catching sight of him outside of your front door, it was like a switch flipped in your head. your eyes staring roamed over him, he unconsciously flexs his biceps when he rubs the back of his nape with a shy smile.

out of sight from as you move out of the way to let him, the smile switched into a smirks when he realizes he got you right where he wanted you.

that’s how he finds himself finally ramming into your soapy self. his sprawled hand pushing your head further into the pillow, your body arched terrible—not caring of the discomfort he had you in.

all he wanted to hear was your muffled screams for him to slow down to bounce off the walls.

you wiggled under the harsh thrust but sunghoon dug his nails into your banded wrist behind your back making your squeal. “this is what you wanted right?”

“for me to fuck you like some slut” a degrading word that made you clench tightly around him and loud moan rip from you when he angled his thrust to hit every crevice in your gummy walls

“read that little sacred diary” he admits feeling how you clamped down him, “you’re such a dirty girl”

your cheeks burned at the realization that he basically read every thought you possibly ever had for your best friend even though you wore your heart on your sleeve around him all the time.

“hoonie” you mewled his nickname that only you’re allowed to call him, not a thought running through your head that was coherent to comprehend his words

“need him to ruin my pussy. want him to fuck me like his slut. gladly would be his cumdump if he wanted me to be” sunghoon recites your writing and you felt horrified but over all of it, you felt excited

indeed following everything you ever wrote down in hopes of him finally doing to you. it felt like a paradise that melted your mind.

“who would’ve know you were thinking this. wanting me to fucking ruin you and treat you what you actually are” your body reacted when you couldn’t speak, your hole fluttered around his stretching length, “like my fucking slut”

“when did you even think of these things in that pretty nasty head of yours mhm?” sunghoon was rutting his hips up as he kept your body perfectly arched for him, “when we would go on picnics, or that cute cafe you wanted to bring me to, the park”

he gruff in your ear at a daunting realization, “fuck did you think about this when you were meeting my friends?”

“wishing i would take you right then and there in front of them to know you were mine?” sunghoon grabs your nape and squeezes it for some response, “i’m talking to you baby, don’t be a bad girl and ignore me”

he knew it wasn’t on purpose, you were spewing incoherence, droll spilling from the corners of your mouth as you dissociate and focus on the drags of his cock out of your gummy walls and how he pushes it in.

“can’t think now that you have my cock buried in you?” he hums lowly and it makes your heart flutter in your chest

“more- please!” you wailed, “yes! yes!”

not sure what you were fully agreeing to but it didn’t matter because it was all true in the end.

sunghoon smirks as he slammed his hips to meet your back once he straightened his posture, each thrust sending your forward and your headboard creaking each time. you didn’t hold back your noises and it swelled his chest, “isn’t this embarrassing for you, mhm?”

“to break apart so easily for my cock?” you shake your head no and he laughs loudly and throws his head back

“for you- just you hoonie- no one else” sunghoon stopped midway at your broken words, his shaft only halfway in your fluttering hole as he stared at your back

the bend of your shaking body was his clear indication, the wet patch under your face mixed by the tears and droll spilling from you.

your body pressed into the mattress as his hands roam over your body. bite marks and strings of his cum lathered your back and his eyes darkened.

“is that so?” he trails down to see where you both connected, how you engulfed and sucked his cock and took the stretch he was providing

a swell filled his chest and he stroked the mess to spread all over your back.

unsure what this would entail between you and your best friend but he knew that he would rather give up everything than give you up for someone else.

no one could ruin you how he will and it feels him with pride to know you wouldn’t let anyone else near you like this if they’re not him.

you tried to pull away to slam yourself back on him for friction as weak whines left, “move please. need more, want more” you slurred incoherently but he managed to string the words along

he let go of your head and wrists. you gasped when your arms bounced back to your side and gripped the sheets instinctively. you weakly lifted your head to look back to catch sunghoon glaring at you, a shimmering glint flickering in his eyes that made your insides twist in itself.

he grips your inching body that dared to move and slammed you back down on him with an lopsided grin when you wailed.

“don’t worry i’m not done with you so do me a favor baby, just shut up and take it”

——

special tags @bambiihee @tinycatharsis @tyunningism

[buckysleftbicep]

bent and bruised (5) 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!ex-hydra!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, dub-con (flashbacks), unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of ptsd, hydra related trauma and abuse, very heavy angst, emotional breakdowns, bucky's guilt, memory suppression

summary: you were built by HYDRA to please the soldier—then left for dead. years later, bucky sees your face again. but no amount of time can erase the way you once whispered his name through tears. inspired by this request

word count: 6.5k

author's note: hi my loves, we are nearing the end for this series and i am genuinely beyond grateful for the support i have received 💓. you guys are really sweet and it motivates me to write 🥰. thank you so much ❤️ love ya guys and please stay safe out there!

series masterlist

The ache was the first thing you noticed when you woke up.

It bloomed low in your abdomen, hot and sore and undeniable, it throbbed beneath your skin like an old wound newly split open, pulsing with the memory of hands, of breath, of weight.

Your body stirred against the sheets, every shift tugging at the tender places he’d touched, reminding you of the way he had held you there like letting go would’ve shattered him. 

Your thighs ached. Your hips were sore. There were fingerprints on your skin that no one had left—but your body knew. 

Your body remembered.

You dragged in a breath and it caught halfway, shallow in your throat. Not because of pain. But because of everything else.

Because now… you remembered too.

Not all of it. Not clearly. Not in the way you’d hoped. But enough.

Enough to know that the man who’d held you against that door like he needed your breath just to breathe—he wasn’t a stranger. 

He hadn’t been that night, and he hadn’t been all those years ago. Even if HYDRA had scrubbed his name from your lips, wiped him clean from the seams of your memory, your body had clung to him like a lifeline. Still did.

You could feel him in your chest. In the burn behind your ribs, in the hollow ache of wanting something you didn’t understand until now.

It lived in the spaces between your breaths, in the ghost of his mouth on your skin, in the way your fingers curled into the sheets like they were reaching for someone they’d never stopped needing.

His voice lived in the quiet of your room. That low, breathless groan when he’d finally slid into you. The desperate way he’d whispered you don’t remember me. And that look in his eyes when you told you felt him still. 

That look had hollowed you out, filled you up, left you raw in the aftermath.

You hadn’t spoken to him since the storage room, since the door closed behind him and you slid to the floor, legs shaking, heart splintering under the weight of truth. 

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say. 

Words felt too small, too sharp. Like they might snap in your mouth before they could ever reach him.

The whole compound felt wrong now—like someone had shifted the axis of gravity just slightly, pulled the air too tight. The walls felt closer, the hallways longer

You’d started avoiding Bucky.

You took the longer route through the east hallway to avoid passing his room. You skipped the gym entirely, even when your body begged for a distraction.

You couldn’t risk seeing him.

Not when the only thing standing between you and another collapse was distance. Not when the silence between you was already unbearable.

You stopped showing up for team lunch, lingering in your room instead with the door locked and your back pressed to the wall, trying to stitch the fragments of your memories into something coherent. 

It didn’t work. They stayed jagged, bleeding at the edges. You’d remember the curve of his shoulder, the sound of your name in his mouth, the taste of tears between kisses, and then—nothing.

A void stood in its place instead.

And every time you close your eyes, you see him. That look on his face in the storage room, when he’d said yes, it was me with a voice soaked in guilt.

You saw the way his shoulders had sagged, the way his hands had trembled at his sides, almost like the confession had carved him open from the inside.

His eyes had been oceans. Blue like grief. Deep and devastating.

There was nothing blank about them. No coldness. Just sorrow so profound it looked like it had lived there for years. And that was the worst part. Because you didn’t want to ask him for anything else. Didn’t want to tear another piece of truth from his mouth. 

Everything he had given you had gutted him. And you couldn’t do that again.

So you stayed quiet. You thought maybe silence would be enough.

Until it wasn’t.

You’d managed to avoid him for nearly four days. Four days of holding your breath. Four days of pretending your body didn’t still hum with the imprint of his touch. Four days of pretending the space between you wasn’t killing you both.

But the fifth day, Val called a full team briefing.

You tried to arrive late—slipping in just as she began speaking, eyes fixed to the floor. You felt his gaze the second you stepped inside. You didn’t dare look up.

Not until halfway through the meeting, when Val turned to speak about training reassignments. Your name fell from her mouth, and you turned your head instinctively. And there he was.

Bucky. Watching you.

His expression didn’t shift. His posture didn’t flinch. But his eyes— They were fucking desperate. Desperate in the way a drowning man looks at the surface.

His jaw was tense, his brows furrowed, faintly drawn like he was holding himself still with a kind of pain he couldn’t voice. And all at once, your breath caught. Your chest stuttered. Because the ache in his gaze—it wasn’t just guilt. 

It was longing.

The meeting ended and conversations began, but you didn’t stay. You made a beeline for the lift, footsteps sharp and unrelenting. You didn’t care who saw, you didn’t look back, you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

But just as the lift doors began to close—you heard it.

“Wait—”

Frantic. His voice.

But you didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Didn’t breathe again until the doors sealed shut between you.

Later that night, you sat alone in the main hall, knees curled beneath you, a blanket draped across your legs like armor. 

10 Things I Hate About You flickered on the screen ahead, but you weren’t watching. Not really. Just letting the noise fill the space where silence had begun to fill up.

You told yourself it was an attempt at catching up, at somehow feeling normal. At living the life you were supposed to have once they’d pulled you out of cryo and dropped you into this compound. 

But it was anything but normal. 

Until Yelena dropped beside you. 

You startled slightly. She didn’t comment on it, just leaned back, stealing the other half of your blanket like it was hers by right, and well, it was. 

“Hey,” she said simply, tone soft.

You didn’t answer.

A long moment passed. The movie kept playing. Someone laughed on screen.

Then she said, “You’ve been quiet, honey.” You bit your lip. Looked down. “I’m right here,” she added, gently. “It’s okay.”

You didn’t mean to cry. But you did.

Quiet at first, just a hitch in your breath, a tremble in your chest. But when you turned to her—eyes already glassy—it broke loose. “I… I knew him,” you whispered, voice cracking mid-syllable. “James. I knew him when I was captured by HYDRA. They made me for him, to control him. I didn’t remember, but now, I think it’s all coming back.”

The words caught. Your throat closed. Tears spilled down your cheeks like you were made of them.

“I loved him,” you said, voice small. 

Yelena didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just nodded, eyes warm.

“And you still do,” she said softly.

You nodded, curling your arms tighter around your knees. “But what if it’s not real?” Your voice broke again. “What if it’s all just—what they did to us? What they wanted us to feel?”

Yelena didn’t answer right away.

She sat in silence for a long moment, watching the flickering screen with her jaw set, her brows furrowed faintly. Then she turned. 

“They could modify your body,” she said slowly. “They could rewire your mind, twist it, maybe bend it until you don’t even recognise your own reflection.”

She reached out and gently touched your hand.

“But they can’t make you feel what you felt. Not like that, not real love, not whatever's behind after your memories are gone.”

You swallowed hard.

“Whatever happened between you and Barnes,” she continued, “that belonged to you. To both of you. And no one can take that away.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.

You just nodded, breath trembling, eyes red.

You’d spent so long trying to outrun what you couldn’t remember.

And now… it was running toward you faster than you knew how to hold.

You didn’t say anything else. But the words remained with you, sharp and certain as they carved themselves into the walls of your chest:

They couldn’t take what you felt.

Even if they tried. Even if they almost did.

You shifted on the couch, you turned your eyes to the screen.

But the movie had long since faded into background noise.

Inside you, everything was still burning, still breaking, still remembering.

And you— You didn’t feel like yourself.

You felt like a stranger with your own hands. A house that had been broken into and never quite put back together.

You’d been haunting the gym like a ghost in the wee hours of the night, where you were nobody else would see you.

You pushed your body to its edge—ran on the treadmill until your lungs ached and your vision blurred, hit the punching bag until your knuckles throbbed beneath the wraps, again and again until your muscles screamed louder than your thoughts. 

You kept going long after your body begged you to stop, until you could collapse in the shower, water scalding your back, and fall into bed so wrung out you didn’t have the strength to dream.

It was easier that way. Exhaustion didn’t ask questions after all.

That night was no different. You were halfway through tearing the wraps from your wrists, sweat cooling on your spine, shirt clinging to your frame like a second skin, when you felt him.

You didn’t hear the door, didn’t hear his footsteps. But you felt him, the shift in the air, the gravity that came with him, low and steady and unbearably quiet.

He didn’t say a word. Just crossed the room and sank to the mat beside you, not close enough to touch, but close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the weight of his presence.

You didn’t look at him.

You focused on your hands, unspooling the wrap from your left wrist with fingers that trembled more than they should have. Your breath came shallow.

Stuttered.

Not from the workout. From him. From the silence he carried.

And still, he said nothing.

You unwrapped the second hand slower. Deliberate. Anything to give your eyes something to focus on that wasn’t the burn of his gaze. But you felt it, like it was burrowing into your skin. Like it was trying to hold you without moving at all.

There was a pause. A silence so thick it rang in your ears, it pressed in around your shoulders like the weight of all the things neither of you had said. All the nights spent drowning in memory. All the truth that had been ripped from you too suddenly, too violently, to make any room for peace.

And then—you moved to stand.

You shifted forward, bracing your palm on the mat, starting to rise to your feet, when his hand reached out.

Fingers curled gently around your wrist.

Not harsh. Not desperate. Just firm—enough to stop you. Enough to say please, not this time.

You froze.

Your heart cracked against your ribs, a soundless fracture that echoed louder in your chest than anything he could have said.

And then—

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you,” he said.

The words were soft. Quiet. Like they weren’t meant for the air at all, like they were a confession he’d only ever let himself whisper in dreams, like they had been tearing him apart from the inside out for years.

And they shattered something in you.

You spun, your wrist slipping from his grip as you rose fully to your feet, chest heaving. His words echoed in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your ribs, cracking through the carefully built armor you’d spent days reforging.

You laughed.

But it was a broken sound. A gasp of disbelief. A wound torn open.

“You weren’t supposed to?” Your voice shook. The words came out raw, splintered. “Do you think I was?”

Bucky flinched. Just barely. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His eyes—god, those eyes—were already shining.

You took a step toward him. Another.

“I didn’t get a choice,” you said, voice rising. “We both didn’t, James. I didn't ask to feel like this. To remember this way, to fucking ache every time I think about you.”

He said nothing. Just sat there, spine straight, shoulders tense, like the guilt had already crawled its way beneath his skin and made a home.

You were trembling, every nerve ending lit with something you couldn’t name—grief, fury, longing, all knotted together into something sharp.

“I hate this,” you snapped. “I hate that I still feel it. That even after everything—after what they did to us—after what they made me forget—I still…”

Your voice broke. You swallowed the cry, hard and bitter.

“I still want you,” you said. “I still feel it. In my chest, in my fucking bones. And I don’t know what that means, because HYDRA erased you, until you were just this—this thing in the dark.”

There was silence. Heavy and brutal.

Bucky didn’t defend himself. He didn’t try to interrupt. He just looked up at you, eyes wide and full of pain, and said softly—

“I need to tell you what happened, that last night. Before they took you from me.”

You didn’t stop him. You couldn’t.

“I knew something was coming,” he began. “They had been watching us more closely, sending guards more often. I thought we had time, I thought if I followed orders—if I didn’t fight back—they would leave you alone.”

He looked down at his hands. They were shaking. Like even now, the memory was too much.

“They didn’t.”

You sank back to the mat, knees folding beneath you as the world tilted around the edges. You didn’t trust yourself to speak.

“They came in while we were sleeping,” he said. “Dragged you out, fuck, I tried to stop them. I tried. But they put a gun to your head and I couldn’t move.”

Your breath caught. You could see it now, in pieces, in flashes.

“You looked at me,” he said, his voice cracking. “Even though you were scared, even when they were strapping you down. You looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Like you weren’t afraid, like you were trying to be brave—for me.”

He swallowed hard. His knuckles whitened.

“They shocked you once, and you still screamed my name, you still begged them to let me go. You still knew me, So they did it again and again, until—until you stopped screaming for me.”

You felt your stomach twist, your fingers clenched into fists so tight your nails bit through skin.

“They made me watch,” Bucky whispered. “They said this was the price of obedience, that if I wanted you, I had to watch them erase every part of you that remembered me, every part of you that—that ever loved me.”

He looked up. And his eyes were drowning, grief poured from him in waves.

“I begged them,” he said. “god, I begged them to stop. I wanted them to take me instead, I wanted them to kill me. But they didn’t, because they wanted me to see it. They wanted me to know that no matter how much I obeyed, they’d always have you. That they could break you just to break me.”

You couldn’t breathe. Your chest was tight, burning. Your body remembered what your mind had fought to forget.

“And then,” he said, softer now. “Your eyes were blank, hollow. Like there was nothing left of you, of me.”

Your throat tightened. A sob crawled up your spine, clamped behind your teeth.

“I fought, they dragged you away and I knew—you were gone.”

He stared at the floor. Voice shaking.

"I was next.” he said.

“James…”

“And I didn’t fight back. Because if you were dead…”

He paused. Swallowed.

“…then there was nothing left for me to fight for.”

You were silent for a long moment. Long enough that the room itself seemed to bend around the quiet.

Then, softly—so softly Bucky almost didn’t hear it—you whispered, “You told me to not forget you.”

You swallowed hard. “And they made sure I did.”

Bucky didn’t speak. He just nodded. Once. Slow. A flicker of something broken passing across his face.

The memory hit him like a wave. It had been the night before everything ended.

He’d known. There were hushed conversations outside the steel walls. The way the scientists looked at you had changed—like they were on a very tight schedule.

That one night, they shoved you inside his cell, the door slammed shut, and the footsteps echoed away.

And then—stillness.

You stood there, trembling just barely, your eyes already glassy. Bucky had known you well enough by then to see the signs. 

You’d been pulled from your cell and returned again, Your wrists were red where the restraints had bitten into them. There was a shallow scrape along your collarbone.

Another test, another goddamn experiment, another attempt to strip you down to bone.

But your eyes still found him. Still knew him.

You crossed the space in two short steps and wrapped your arms around his neck like it was the only thing anchoring you to the world.

He held you, not like a prisoner, but like a man. Like a man who knew something was about to be stolen from him and was utterly powerless to stop it.

There weren’t any words. There never had to be.

You kissed him like you were memorising him, like you didn’t trust your own memory to hold on.

Your mouth was soft at first—like you were afraid he’d pull away. But he didn’t. He never did. He kissed you back with a hunger that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the ache in his chest that had never stopped since the day they brought you to him.

Your fingers slid beneath the hem of his flimsy shirt, dragging the fabric up and over his head with trembling hands. You pressed your palms flat to his chest, scars and all, and he saw the way your breath hitched when your thumbs brushed over the rough patches.

He cupped your jaw, tilting your head just slightly to kiss you deeper. Your lips parted willingly. Hungry now. His mouth moved over yours like he was writing a letter he’d never be able to send.

Clothes came off slowly, each layer peeled back like a prayer, he touched you with careful hands, dragging his fingertips down the slope of your spine, the curve of your ribs, the soft skin beneath your navel.

When he laid you down on the table, the frame creaked beneath your weight, but neither of you moved to hide. You curled beneath him like you belonged there, like you’d always belonged there. 

The way you looked at him—god, it made him feel like a person again.

His mouth found your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast. You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair as his lips moved lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. You arched into him, breath trembling, thighs parting to welcome him between them.

He looked up at you then. Searching. Asking.

And you nodded.

He slid into you slowly, inch by inch, his hands braced on either side of your face. Your breath hitched, your back arched, your legs wrapped around his waist like you needed him closer. Like you wanted to fuse yourself to him and never let go.

You were so warm. So soft. So real.

The movement was slow. Measured. Every roll of his hips was deliberate, like he was carving the moment into memory, like if he went too fast, it would slip through his fingers.

You touched his face the whole time. Fingers trembling, lips parted, eyes never leaving his. Every moan, every gasp, every whispered yes felt like absolution.

He could’ve cried. Might’ve, when you whispered his name so tenderly it didn’t sound like a name at all—more like a promise.

Your rhythm faltered near the end. You clenched around him, eyes fluttering closed, mouth falling open as you came. He followed moments later, groaning low against your throat, burying his face in your shoulder as he spilled inside you like it was the last thing he’d ever give.

Afterward, you didn’t speak.

You just laid there, curled into each other, your hand stroking slowly down his spine. Breathing together. Hearts beating out of sync.

Then—

“I love you,” you said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

It knocked the breath from his lungs.

You had never said it before. Not once.

But that night—you said it.

And for the first time since he’d woken up in a cell with your name burned into the back of his skull, Bucky said it back.

“I love you,” he breathed, forehead pressing to yours, voice thick with everything he couldn’t say.

He had thought—naively, stupidly—that there would be more time. That maybe they’d keep you together. That maybe if he was obedient, if he didn’t fight, he’d be rewarded with a little more of you.

But god, he was wrong.

So, so fucking wrong.

And now you were sitting beside him on the mat again, your shoulders trembling, your eyes rimmed with red, your whole body wrapped in the echo of a memory they had tried to burn.

He could still feel your breath against his lips.

“Don’t forget me,” you had said, fingers brushing his cheek.

And he had promised. But, instead HYDRA made sure you forgot everything about him.

You didn’t hear your feet carry you out of the gym.

You didn’t register the mat shifting beneath you, didn’t feel the soft drag of sweat-damp fabric against your skin or the way the air seemed to thin the moment you stepped beyond the doorway. 

You just moved, a ghost dragged forward by the sheer force of memory and breathless ache. Your legs carried you blindly into the corridor, each step louder than the last, like echoes of a life you hadn’t yet figured out how to live.

You couldn’t breathe.

The air in the hall hit your lungs like knives—sharp and thick, you staggered forward, your vision blurring at the edges, your pulse pounding like war drums in your ears. 

The wall caught your shoulder hard, a dull shock of pain blooming down your side, but you barely flinched. You didn’t care, instead, you welcomed the sensation, at least it reminded you that you still had a body, that you still existed.

Your palms flattened against the concrete as your shoulders shook, muscles twitching beneath your skin like you were holding back a scream. 

The sob that climbed your throat was raw and ragged, scratching at your insides like it had claws. You sucked in a breath, then another, both stuttering, like your lungs were trying to remember how to be lungs at all. Your knees buckled slightly beneath you.

But you didn’t fall. You wouldn’t let yourself.

Because you knew if you crumpled now—if you gave in to the gravity inside your chest—you wouldn’t get back up again. You’d stay down, stay broken, stay shattered on the cold floor while the pieces of who you were scattered out of reach, unrecognisable.

Behind you, Bucky hadn’t moved.

He stood alone in the gym, fists clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles had gone white, then bloodless.

He hadn’t called your name. Hadn’t chased after you. Not because he didn’t want to—god, he did—but because he knew.

This pain wasn’t his to touch, this unraveling—it was yours. And he knew the difference between love and possession, between reaching and taking.

But that didn’t stop him from breaking with every step you took away.

It didn’t stop him from standing there with his heart in his throat, begging silently—for forgiveness, for understanding, for the right to hold you again.

You pressed your forehead to the wall, your breath coming faster now, shallower. Your whole body trembled, your spine buzzing with something too big for your bones. And then, without warning, the memories struck.

They didn’t unfold. They didn’t ease in like a tide. They hit. Like a crash. 

You gasped. Because it was all there. Suddenly, violently, all there.

The cell. The cold. The hard metal table under your back and the soft, steady weight of him curled around you like shelter. 

The buzz of the overhead light, flickering in time with your breath. The hum of the air vent rattling faintly above. The smell, iron and salt and sweat and something warmer, something human—him.

You remembered the feel of his chest against your spine, the solid press of muscle and warmth and safety, his breath ghosting across your neck like a vow.

His hand had curled protectively around your middle, fingers splayed over your stomach like he could hold you together from the outside, like he could keep the pain out if he just held tight enough.

You remembered the way he buried his face in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft, gentle kisses that weren’t hurried, weren’t hungry, just full—of want and sorrow and something like fear.

“Don’t forget me, please” he’d murmured, almost begged.

And you remembered the way your breath had caught. The way your body had curled tighter against him. His hands had found your skin like they always did—carefully, tenderly, even when his own trembled. 

His touch mapped every scar like a prayer, his lips trailing behind like shadows that only bloomed in moonlight.

You remembered the way he undressed you, not with urgency but devotion. His fingers shook slightly as he slid your shirt over your head, his palms lingering over every inch of exposed skin as though this might be the last time he ever got to see it.

You remembered the moment he hovered above you, eyes locked on yours, lips parted like he was about to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. 

You remembered how you reached for him first. How your hands found his jaw, his neck, the planes of his back, anchoring him to you like gravity.

Your legs wrapped around his waist. And when he finally, finally pressed inside you—

—everything stopped.

It was just him. You. Breath and memory, stitched together with the soft, fragile thread of a love that had never needed language to be known.

You moved together slowly, like the world had shrunk to a pinpoint. Like nothing existed beyond that cell, those trembling hands, those whispered gasps in the dark.

And then—

You had said it.

“James.”

His name had fallen from your lips like breath, like benediction, you remembered the way he’d stilled, just for a moment. The way his eyes had widened, filling with tears so fast it had stolen the air from the room.

The look on his face—

Like he’d been waiting his whole life just to hear it.

Blue. So blue. Glassy and broken and open wide, like someone had cracked him down the middle and let the light in. You’d never forget that look. Not now. Not ever. Because it had been love. 

Love, plain and bare and unguarded.

And he had broken.

You watched him come undone in your arms, just from those words. His mouth had found yours in a kiss that was desperate, terrified. 

And still—you held him.

You held him until the world faded, until the fear slipped into something else. Until your bodies moved like you were one, like the line between you had disappeared entirely.

And then, as the night faded—

You remembered what you said.

“If there’s another life after this one… I’ll wait for you there.”

And his reply had been a whisper soaked in agony. His lips brushing yours as he breathed it against your skin:

“Don't leave me. Please.”

You collapsed.

Right there in the corridor. Your back slid down the wall, too slow to stop it, too hollow to care. Your arms wrapped around yourself like maybe you could hold your heart together with the pressure alone. 

But it didn’t help, nothing could, because it hurt. Everything hurt. You were drowning in it.

The sob tore free from your throat before you could stop it, guttural and low, the kind of sound you only make when something in you finally, fully breaks.

Because it wasn’t just a memory. It wasn’t a hallucination.

It was truth.

That love had been real.

Everything they did to you—every wipe, every shock, every attempt to strip him from your soul—it hadn’t worked. 

Because he had never been something they implanted. He was something you chose. Even when you didn’t know you were choosing. Even when there was nothing left.

And now, you knew why. Now, you remembered.

You had never stopped loving him.

It was late when you finally made it back to your room.

The compound had quieted to a stillness so complete it felt almost unnatural. The night cycle had long since kicked in, dimming the overhead lights into a low, artificial twilight. 

The halls were hushed, the hum of life receding behind layers of silence, just the distant echo of your own breathing and the steady noises of the air vents overhead, soft and mechanical. 

Your hands trembled as you pushed the door open.

Inside, your room felt like a damn museum exhibit—like no one had lived there in weeks. The sheets were tangled from nights of restless turning, the blankets shoved halfway down the bed in a heap. 

The air smelled faintly of detergent, or sorrow perhaps, the kind that soaked into fabric and never quite left. Your pillows were damp in patches, dried tears marking time like a clock you couldn’t stop.

You didn’t bother with the light. The faint blue glow from the corridor spilled in through the crack behind you, mingling with the moonlight—if it was even the moon at all—filtering through the narrow window.  

And there it was, the file, still sitting there, just where you’d left it, the one you’d taken from the restricted archive.

Your fingers moved, brushing across the surface, tracing the slightly warped corners that had softened from being turned over again and again. The edges were worn now, dog-eared. As if your desperation had seeped into the paper itself. 

You had read it so many times it no longer registered as information, it had become scripture.

A text you recited silently in the dark, searching the blacked-out lines for meaning, reading between the redactions, trying to breathe life into the man hidden beneath the ink.

You had memorised him by nothing at all. No photo but designation.

Subject B. That’s all they had called him.

But now you knew what they had tried to erase. What they had buried. 

You knew now that Subject B was the man who had carried you through hell with his arms around your shaking body. 

The man who had held you together when you couldn’t speak.

He was the man who had memorised the shape of your mouth, not out of hunger—but hope. The man who whispered don’t forget me like a dying man’s final prayer.

He was Bucky. James.

The name still felt electric on your tongue, you set the file down slowly, smoothing the cover with your palm before stepping away like it might burn you. 

You didn’t need to look anymore. The truth wasn’t on the pages—it was in your chest, raw and pulsing. And it hurt in ways no data ever could.

You lay down, the sheets were cold. You curled into them anyway, staring at the ceiling like it might split open and hand you peace. 

But sleep didn’t come. Not even close. 

You turned onto your side, then your back, then your other side.

Your mind thrummed like a wire stretched too tight. Your body was exhausted—screaming for some sort of rest—but your mind was awake. 

Too awake. 

You could feel it behind your eyes. Replaying everything. Every kiss, every cry, every time he had whispered your name like it was something he wasn’t supposed to want.

And then—just as you turned onto your back again, dragging in another shallow breath—a knock.

Soft. So soft it barely registered.

A single thump against your door, tentative and quiet. Like whoever was on the other side wasn’t sure they had the right to be there. Like maybe they were second-guessing even as their knuckles hit wood.

Your breath caught mid-inhale, your fingers curled slightly in the blanket. Your heart was hammering so loud it almost drowned out the silence that followed. For a moment, you thought you imagined it

But then—another knock. Quieter. Like he already knew you were awake.

You rose slowly, the blanket sliding off your body in one heavy motion. You moved, barefoot, breathless—across the cold floor. Every step made your chest tighter, your hand wrapped around the doorknob and paused.

You didn’t open it right away. Not because you were afraid it wasn’t him. But because you were terrified it was.

Because some part of you had already broken open with the hope of seeing his face. Of hearing his voice. And if it wasn’t him—you weren’t sure you’d survive it. But your fingers moved anyway. 

You turned the knob. And opened the door.

And there he was.

He stood in the hallway like a man caught between past and present, the blue wash of the compound lights painting his skin in soft, cold hues.

There were faint creases on his face—like maybe he’d laid down and never managed to sleep. His jaw was tight, his shoulders set like stone.

But his eyes—

They were always the kind that held too much. The kind that didn’t just look at you—they saw you. And there was no restraint left in them , just grief, and longing so thick it could’ve drowned you.

There was exhaustion too. Deep. Carved-in. But beneath it—beneath the guilt, the fear, the years of silence—was something softer. 

He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Because his eyes said everything.

I remember all of it. I never stopped looking for you. I don’t know what this is anymore, but I still want it. I still want you.

You stood there for a long moment. And then—you stepped aside.

You didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask why he came. Didn’t demand an explanation. You didn’t need one. 

Your arm lifted slowly, fingers brushing the edge of the door, and you pushed it open wider. Your chest rose and fell in one long, trembling breath. 

Your heart thundered beneath your ribs, but it didn’t stop you. Your hand hovered at your side—shaking slightly—but you didn’t falter.

Because you wanted him inside. Because you needed him to come in.

Because even if you didn’t have the words for what this was now, even if everything between you had been broken and buried, he was still the only thing that had ever made you feel whole.

He stepped inside.

And for the first time in days—maybe weeks, maybe years—the door shut behind him. And it didn’t feel like a goodbye.

There’s no whispered invitation hovering in the space between you, nothing to fill the silence.

You sit side by side on the floor, backs pressed to the cool wall, bodies close. The room is shrouded in half-darkness—only the faintest spill of compound light leaks in from the corridor through the narrow sliver beneath your door. 

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you.

The quiet between you isn’t uncomfortable—not really. It’s something heavier, like the quiet of a church after a funeral. Fragile. 

His presence fills the space without forcing it, your shoulders barely graze.

You’re aware of every inch between you, of the warmth that radiates off his skin in soft waves, of the heat that settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Your fingers lie a breath away from his, resting on the floor, unmoving—like they’re waiting for a signal neither of you is ready to give.

You don’t reach for him.

Not because you don’t want to—but because you do. Too much.

You keep your eyes on the opposite wall, unfocused, watching the faint shadowplay from the window. The lines don’t mean anything. Not really. But they give you something to look at. Something to pretend to study so you don’t have to turn and see the truth in his eyes.

Because you already know what’s there.

You can feel it radiating off him, the unbearable sorrow tied with the love he doesn’t know how to offer anymore—not without guilt.

And then, slowly—he moves.

Not abruptly. Not purposefully, just slightly. Like some part of him was drawn toward you by gravity, his shoulder brushes yours more firmly this time.

You feel his head shift, a subtle tilt, and then—

He leans in. So slowly. So gently. Like he’s afraid the moment might shatter.

His forehead presses to yours. Soft and steady.

Your eyes close before you even think to command them to. The heat of him seeps into your skin, grounding you. His breath mingles with yours in the narrow space between, and something deep in your chest unknots just slightly.

Neither of you says anything for a long time.

There’s no need.

Because this silence isn’t empty, it’s full. It’s full of pain and hope and a thousand unspoken things. It’s full of memories, of things you didn’t choose, of things stolen, ripped away from both of you.

The breath you let out shakes. Because no matter what they did to you—no matter how many times they wiped you clean, rewrote you, stole your memories and carved their version of you—it wasn’t enough.

They couldn’t take this.

They couldn’t take what was yours.

You didn’t fall in love the way others did, there were no casual glances across a room, no shared coffees. 

You fell in love in the dark, you fell in love in silence, in pain, in stolen moments when you helped each other forget what its like to be afraid. Where you helped each other feel what love is. 

And now—somehow, impossibly—it’s still here.

His forehead stays pressed to yours, when his voice trembles just a little as he breathes your name, you let it thread its way through you. 

You let it tether you. To him. To yourself. To everything they tried to take.

The night stays quiet.

Because for the first time in a long time—

You aren’t quiet in it alone.

a/n: and that's chapter 5! i have no idea how i would end this series just yet...i have half of chapter 6 written and the ending is still kinda vague for me at least, so here's to hoping i finish in time to have it posted up according to schedule!

taglist: @poisntree @moth-maam56 @ravenswritingroom @heymydearheart @secretdiaryofzai @whitelaxe @ficmeiguess @its-in-the-woods @chronicallybubbly @stell404 @overwintering-soldier @emilyswortwellen @vampirehimejoshi @chimmysoftpaws @herejustforbuckybarnes @s0urw00lf @cheeseman @onlyforyuto @hibiscy @quinquinquincy @wickedfun9 @bugs-n-roses @alicetesser @hibiscy @onlyforyuto @chimchoom

[immisscellaneous]

JJ and John B have shared everything since they were 8

~~~

this is just a lil something i was thinking about this morning and figured i could write to ring in the new year. it’s kinda short sorry😭

Smut!!! MDNI

they’d figured it out very quickly - how to share things. john b shared with jj because he could, jj shared with john b because he had to. they both knew this and were perfectly fine with it.

the first time jj slept over at the chateau they shared the bed. jj was supposed to sleep on the couch but there was a thunderstorm roaring outside, and the noise terrified him. jj poked his head into john b’s room seeking comfort and before he knew it he was waking up, cuddled so closely to john b in his small twin bed that it was hard for them to decipher where one ended and the other began. it became instinct at that point. every morning that they woke up together (which was almost every morning, as long as jj snuck back into his home before his dad awoke) john b would give jj his clothes to wear, and jj would give john b a hat to borrow. they shared a plate at breakfast when food was low, shared toothpaste, and of course all of john bs toys were jjs as well. and as they grew older they shared bigger things, such as their vehicles, beers, their surf boards, girls.

so it should come as no surprise that they had to share you. john b never understood how jj bagged a girl as pretty as you, but he couldn’t think too much on it right now. couldn’t think at all really. your back was pressed against his chest, arm reached behind you to jerk him off. your legs were spread wide, jj’s strong hands pinning your thighs to the bed as he ate you like a man starved. you didn’t think he could get any deeper, but john b reached out anyways, placing a firm hand on the back of jjs head and pushing, forcing jj to press even further into you. you wanted to pull away, worried that the blonde couldn’t breathe, but by the time you could grasp a coherent thought you were cumming. your juices spilled all over jjs face, meanwhile john bs hand kept him pressed into you, giving the blonde no where to go, not that he would’ve pulled away if he could. your hand kept stroking john bs thick cock even as your orgasm rushed through you, and he soon was cumming too, release spilling over your back. it was lucky your long hair was pulled up into an updo, otherwise it would’ve been ruined by john bs massive load.

you were still awake, fighting the aftershocks of your orgasm, but your eyes were fluttering shut. jj took note of this once he was able to pull back from your center, reaching a hand up to swiftly but gently tap the side of your face. “hey,” he mumbled, “don’t forget about me sweet girl. papa j needs some loving too.” he sealed the deal with a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before he pulled away. you giggled at his words, body going lax as he picked you up, laying you back onto the bed on your stomach beside john b. jj spread your legs, squeezing your thighs as a silent way of saying keep them open. john b laid down beside you, hand gently caressing your cheek and murmuring words of praise as jj stripped out of his shorts. your eyes had closed once more, relaxing under john bs gentle touch and kind words, but abruptly snapped right back open. jj has his thick cock in his hand, smacking the heavy tip against your clit. you moaned out, making the blonde chuckle. “oh baby,” he began, “i haven’t even done anything yet.” but it didn’t matter. because then he was reaching up with his other hand to grab your hip, the hand on his cock pushing it forward, forcing his way into your gummy walls. “fuck mama,” jj panted out, clearly wanting to say more but being unable to after feeling your wetness around him. the blonde began moving immediately, heavy sack smacking against your clit with every thrust. you were soaked, arousal spilling out all over jjs cock. his eyes rolled back into his head, hips slamming harder into yours. john b reached out, grabbing onto jjs hand to pull the boy back into reality. the blonde smiled gratefully, looking at his best friend, before his head turned towards yours. “‘m gonna fucking ruin you.”

[mattslilies]

I Gotcha, Baby - C.S.

"don't worry about a thing, sweetheart, did so good for me." or, the one where chris is excellent at keeping you satisfied, but is even better at making sure that you're properly taken care of afterwards. warnings: mentions of sex, not graphically descriptive but a good bit at the start is talking about the aftermath. no other warnings tbh, just a soft fic of chris taking care of his girl! word count: 1.08k a/n: writing this at work i'm going to hell in a handbasket but idc anything for yall fr! requested by anon! divider credit: @cursed-carmine! (can you tell i'm loving their acc and dividers lately??)

your chest heaved, sobs pouring past your lips as your body trembled on chris' bed. your hands reached out to latch onto him, the only part of you that didn't feel completely boneless, spent from your night's encounter. you shook your head violently when you felt chris begin to pull out from inside you, a whine slipping past your lips.

"no!"

chris stilled, reaching to hold one of your hands as he rubbed soothing circles on your hipbone. it wasn't uncommon for you to do this, refuse to let him break contact from your body after he'd fucked you so deep your brain had nearly broken. you craved his closeness, the feel of his skin against yours, and that overpowered the tinges of pain searing through your body at the intense overstimulation.

chris knew that you weren't in any actual discomfort, minus the bit of overstimulating pressure from being full of him. he knew this without even asking you, because he knew you, but he did anyways.

"are you okay, baby?"

you nodded, your sobs beginning to slow as the grounding touch of chris' warm palm against your cheek began to soothe your racing heart and mind. he felt like safety to you, which was something you so desperately needed when he'd ruined you like this.

you didn't want him to do anything less, but that didn't make the effects of the aftermath any less nerve wracking. you held so much trust in your boyfriend, hence why you would let him do this to you, tear you apart, knowing that he'd be the one to sit by you and gently put you back together again.

as you whimpered in pain, chris took the hint, pulling out of you as slowly as he could manage, not wanting to irritate any part of your sensitive body. his hand caressed the side of your face, fingers firm against your cheek as they dragged back and forth, giving you a motion to focus on. he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"you did so well for me, baby. such a good girl, every time."

you couldn't form coherent words, exhaustion and vulnerability settling in your bones as your chest lurched with another cry, the feeling of chris' kindness hitting you in the heart like a brick. his hands immediately rushed to your face, cradling it in them as he pulled you into his chest.

"shh, baby, it's okay. i know, i know. you're alright."

you gave way, tears flowing from your eyes once again as chris clutched you against his body, a hand making its way to your back and rubbing to ground you. he wouldn't dare to move you while you were like this, despite knowing you needed to be cleaned up. he knew you needed to be held and reassured more.

as you relaxed in his arms, the sated sensation that always came after sex with chris began to flood you, relaxation replacing the overwhelm. you still felt vulnerable, but safe. you knew chris would make sure that everything was okay, but you still moved to try and assist him.

"your clothes, where did they-"

chris cut you off with a gentle kiss, quietly shushing you, not wanting you to spiral into worry.

"don't worry about a thing, sweetheart, did so good for me."

"but-"

he shook his head, a hand running through your hair.

"no buts. i'll take care of everything, okay?"

you relented, allowing him to do so as you sat in his arms. he played with your hair for a few moments before slipping an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back, and lifted you bridal-style off of the bed. he carried you into the bathroom, softly placing you into the deep tub as he began to run the water, making sure it didn't touch you before it was a warm temperature.

"i'll be right back, love. i'm going to go get my clothes, and a fresh set for you."

you nodded, watching him walk out. he left the door open so you could see where he was going, you kept your eyes on him as you watched him open drawers quickly, grabbing the softest clothes he could find.

you really were one lucky woman.

he walked back in, a variety of items in his hands.

"i grabbed some random stuff for me, but this was the softest shirt i felt in your drawer. if you want to wear a pair of my boxers, i grabbed an extra for you, but if not, i have one of your favorite pairs of underwear as well. i didn't think you'd want to sleep in pants, but if you change your mind, i can go get some for you."

you could've cried again right then and there. instead, you swallowed the sob, smiling at him and pointing towards the pair of his boxers, signaling you wanted them. he nodded, setting them to the side for you as he grabbed your body wash out of the shower, placing it on the edge of the tub.

sliding in behind you, he let you rest your body against him as he gently washed over you with a washcloth, his touch as soft as he could muster when running over your inner thighs and abused cunt. you whimpered at the sensation, and he apologized with a kiss to the head.

"i know, sweetheart. i'm sorry."

you shook your head at his apology.

"not your fault."

he laughed, ruffling your hair.

"it kinda is."

you shrugged, partially agreeing.

he put the body wash back on the side, reaching for the plug on the drain.

"i thought about washing your hair, honey, but i didn't think you'd want to stay up long enough to let me dry it."

"no. that's okay."

he hummed as he got out of the bath, a slow tune as he quickly dressed himself before getting you out of the tub as well. swiftly toweling you off, he helped you into your clothes, your legs still shaky as you stood.

"cmon, baby, let's get you in bed."

your eyes were still glassy as you allowed him to carry you back into your room, a sign that you were still deep into subspace. he tucked you in, pulling you back against him and keeping your body held close as you curled your arms and legs around his frame.

"just rest, honey. i'll be here to take care of you in the morning. i gotcha, baby."

taglist <3

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[jays-bookmarks]

Good Enough for You (Mac x gn!reader)

I can't believe I'm writing fanfic about my computer.............

anyway this is based on my actual computer in real life which does indeed overheat for no reason so hello valdivian I'm waiting for my dateviators so I can smooch my macbook

Summary: Mac had always been good enough for you, so what made them say such a thing? Words: 731 Warnings: light angst but it's hurt/comfort. slight canon divergence in that Mac is a macbook (yes I am a wretched apple user) and that apple + youtube are mentioned by name

"And more importantly, I'm finally going to be good enough for you."

You stopped swiveling in your chair and turned to stare at them. Mac looked back with an expectant smile. When you only furrowed your brow in response, their expression fell. They seemed to be scrambling for something else to say, but before they could, you spoke first.

"Mac… you've always been good enough for me."

Mac seemed to freeze for a moment, eyes widening as a blush began to spread on their face. The whirring of the computer fans suddenly kicking up was the only sound that broke the resulting silence. You stayed quiet, giving them time to process your words.

When Mac finally spoke, their voice had lost their usual note of enthusiasm.

"But… you were looking to buy another computer…" they said.

This time it was your turn to freeze. You had indeed been thinking of buying a new computer a few years back. It was after you had finally taken your current computer to the repair shop to see what exactly was causing the CPU to heat up so dramatically just from normal internet browsing. The techs couldn't find any physical damage, and their stress tests didn't reveal any unexpectedly high temperatures. Their reports had left you wondering if perhaps you simply needed a new machine. After all, you had purchased this computer before you even started college…

But now you knew the reason behind Mac's overheating CPU. And also, it seemed, the reason behind their insistence on this system update.

"Oh, Mac… that was—I didn't mean—" you took a breath, trying to organize your thoughts into something more coherent. "I just couldn't figure out why you were running so hot when I wasn't doing anything more than watching youtube videos. I thought maybe you were just… getting old. And, well, you know how impossible it is to repair apple devices when they started soldering everything to the motherboard…"

Mac didn't respond, only kept their gaze fixed to the ground. You bit your lip. What else could you say to them? That you hadn't considered their feelings because, up until now, you hadn't known that they had any? But still, you had agonized over that decision, and ultimately couldn't bring yourself to make the purchase. It felt like abandoning a dear friend, one who had been with you throughout college and the first years of your true adult life.

Finally, you stood and crossed the small distance between the two of you. Mac's pensive gaze turned into one of shock when you knelt down beside them and took their hand in yours. You smiled gently when you heard their fans start up again.

"Mac, I'm sorry I made you feel inadequate," you said. "You've always been good enough for me. More than enough. I couldn't just replace you… it felt wrong."

Mac took a shaky breath. Your guilt from earlier sank its claws deeper into your chest as you noticed tears gathering in Mac's eyes. When they next spoke, it was in a quiet, trembling voice that broke your heart.

"I thought…" they squeezed your hand, as if trying to reassure themself that you wouldn't leave. "…when you stopped updating my operating system, I thought… you were already done with me, and you just didn't have the money for a new computer yet…"

"No—" You sat up to look them in the eyes properly. "I stopped updating because I knew apple deliberately slowed down older devices with each new OS. I wanted to keep you as long as I could."

If you hadn't already been staring at Mac so intently, you would've missed the slight hitch in their breath when you spoke your last words. Tentatively, you reached up to touch their cheek. They flinched, then raised their own hand to cover your own. On the table beside you, the fans on the computer hummed ever louder.

"You… really mean it?" Mac said.

"Of course." You smiled. "Where else am I gonna find another computer like you? Now that I know you're not actually on your deathbed with that overheating CPU, we've still got a long road ahead… together."

"…Together," Mac repeated. They let out a breathy laugh before turning aside to wipe their eyes. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that…"

"I'll say it as many times as you like."

[nylqnder]

CHRISTMAS MORNING JACK HUGHES

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x jack hughes

summary: a cozy christmas morning unfolds for yours and jacks family.

warnings: established relationship + family, you and jack having two kids, brief mention (blink and you miss it) of sex, kissing

wc: 2.59k

notes: final fic of my twelve days of christmas series!! so normally i don't like writing dad fics but this was too cute to not write and i got a little carried away with the world building lol

The first whispers of daylight nudged at the frost-tinged windows, and the faint glow of a winter sunrise spilled into the corners of your bedroom. Sleep was elusive for you and Jack last night. The excitement of Christmas kept your two little ones wide awake, and it took a while to finally coax them into bed. Once they were peacefully asleep, you and Jack spent the next hour arranging presents under the tree, carefully crafting the illusion that Santa had visited your living room in the quiet hours of the night.

The dim light of dawn filtered in, teasing the edges of consciousness. Everything was peacefully silent… until it wasn’t. A cacophony of squeals and laughter accompanies the patter of small feet that gets louder and louder. Before you can even form a coherent thought, the sound of your bedroom door bursting open and hitting the wall pierces the quiet, followed by two bodies hurtling onto the bed with unbridled glee.

“Santa came! Santa came!” Ellie’s voice, sharp and jubilant, rings out like a bell, while Grayson’s higher-pitched laughter trails behind her declaration. Their small hands tug at the covers, and with them, any last shred of warmth and sleep you hoped to cling to.

Jack stirred beside you, his groggy groan muffled by a pillow he had instinctively tried to use as a shield. You glanced at the side table, the digital clock reading 7:28. You squint against the dim light and see Elliott bouncing on her knees, her strawberry-blonde curls wild from sleep, her eyes wide with the wonder of a five-year-old on Christmas morning. Beside her, Grayson is less coordinated but no less enthusiastic, flopping down on Jack’s chest before scrambling up again to pull at his arm.

“Up, Daddy!” Grayson exclaims, his chubby toddler hands gripping Jack’s wrist as if sheer determination will pull his father from the depths of exhaustion.

Jack tossed the pillow shielding his face to the side, turning towards you. His hair tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly boyish despite the years. Jack’s voice, thick with sleep but carrying a soft smile, rumbled through the early-morning chaos. “You hear that? Santa came,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple.

“Mommy, you have to come see!” Ellie insisted, her excitement bubbling over as she crawled up the bed, clambering over your body. She leaned perilously close to your face, her freckled nose inches from yours. “There’s a HUGE one under the tree! It’s got a gold bow and red wrapping and I think it’s for me!”

Grayson, not to be outdone, shifted his efforts from Jack to you. He pulled the duvet off of your torso, the air outside the bed’s cocoon biting against your skin where the covers had been yanked away. “Come, Mommy, hurry!” His blue eyes, so much like Jack’s, sparkled with the kind of joy that only a three-year-old could summon.

You sighed, a mixture of amusement and resignation, and began to prop yourself up on your elbows. Jack, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye, placed a hand lightly on your shoulder, his warm fingertips a contrast to cold air outside the bed. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice still heavy with sleep but carrying an undercurrent of tenderness. “You stay, I’ll get the coffee going. You can take your time.”

The thought was tempting, but Ellie’s insistent tugging had grown more urgent. “Mommy, pleeease! You have to see it! Santa ate all the cookies, and—” she paused for dramatic effect, her eyes widening. “—there are glittery reindeer footprints on the rug!”

“Okay, okay,” Jack said, his tone halfway between indulgence and resignation. “How about a deal? You two go check under the tree — make sure Santa didn’t leave anything behind — and I’ll start making breakfast.” He glanced at you, his blue eyes soft with a silent promise of a few stolen moments of peace. “Mommy will be right behind you. Deal?”

Elliott pouted for half a second before nodding solemnly, the gravity of the proposal weighing on her like a proper contract. “Deal! Come on, Gray!” She scrambled off the bed with impressive speed, dragging her brother by the hand as they bolted for the door, their laughter echoing down the hall.

The sudden quiet was almost deafening. Jack sighed, rubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw as he glanced at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That bought us, what — five minutes?” he joked, leaving the warmth of the bed with a reluctant groan. The sheets slipped away to reveal the lean, sleep-warm lines of his torso.

Your gaze lingered on him as he stretched, his movements slow and fluid, the soft light tracing the sharp lines of his shoulders and the taut planes of his back. There was something about the unguarded ease of mornings like these — the way his hair stuck up slightly at odd angles, the curve of his mouth as he let out a contented sigh, and the way his skin held the remnants of sleep’s warmth.

Jack reached for the pair of sweats draped over the chair by the window, the muscles in his arms shifting as he stepped into them. You felt a familiar tug in your chest, that quiet, magnetic pull of affection mixed with admiration. It wasn’t just his physicality, though that certainly caught your attention—it was the unassuming way he carried himself, the effortlessness with which he balanced the roles of husband and father, and somehow still managed to look like a scene from a romantic film first thing in the morning.

As he tossed on a hoodie, Jack caught you watching, a corner of his mouth quirking into a knowing smile as he brushed a hand through his hair.

“See something you like?” he teased, his voice low and playful.

You rolled your eyes, though the curve of your lips betrayed you. “Just wondering how you manage to look that good on no sleep,” you said, your tone light but honest.

He chuckled, crossing the room to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat. “Must be a Christmas miracle.” he joked.

Jack crossed the room, shutting the door softly behind him. You sank back into the pillows for a moment, listening to the distant sound of childish giggles and screeches as your kids no doubt were scanning the bags and boxes to figure out which gifts were for them. The corner of your lips lifted as you pictured the scene awaiting you—a tree lit with soft, golden lights, stockings bursting with trinkets, and two wide-eyed children tearing into the carefully wrapped gifts with all the patience of a wild storm.

Pulling yourself from the cozy embrace of the duvet, you slipped your legs over the side of the bed, toes brushing against the cool hardwood. You reached for the flannel Christmas pajamas Jack had tugged off you last night in a quiet moment of intimacy when the house finally stilled, the soft fabric a buffer against the morning chill. You padded to the bathroom, running a brush through your hair until it framed your face in somewhat manageable waves. A quick splash of water on your face, teeth brushed, and you were as ready as you could be for the whirlwind downstairs.

The air smelled faintly of coffee as you descended the stairs, the creak of the wooden steps masked by the symphony of excited whispers and the occasional shriek of joy. Peering into the living room, you caught sight of Elliott and Grayson darting around the tree like two joyful fireflies, their small hands flipping over tags on the presents.

“Gray! This one says ‘To Grayson, Love Santa!’” Ellie shouted, holding up a package wrapped in bright red paper adorned with tiny reindeer.

Grayson’s eyes widened as he reached for it, though Jack, stepping in with his mug of coffee, quickly intercepted. “Not yet, buddy. Stockings first. Rules are rules.”

He glanced up as you entered, his face softening into that effortless smile you loved so much. “Just in time, your mugs on the counter.”

You swiped the mug from the island, indulging in the bitterness. “Mommy, hurry!” Ellie called from the living room, already tugging at the corner of her stocking. Grayson was next to her, arms deep in his own stocking, pulling out a small car with a delighted squeal.

You joined them, sitting cross-legged on the floor as you helped the kids unpack their stockings. Small toys, chocolates, and even a few practical gifts — like socks — were met with equal excitement.

After stockings, you and Jack quickly whipped up pancakes, eggs, and bacon while the kids played with the toys they’d received in their stockings. At the table, the kids barely sat still, vibrating with excitement as they ate just enough to be excused. The table was cleared quickly, plates rinsed and stacked, and then it was time for the main event.

You and Jack settled onto the couch, mugs in hand, as Elliott and Grayson dove headfirst into the pile of presents under the tree. Wrapping paper flew in all directions, accompanied by shrieks of joy as each wish list item was uncovered. A Barbie dreamhouse for Ellie. A set of dinosaur figurines for Grayson. A remote-controlled car. A glittery art kit. You and Jack exchanged amused glances, your hearts full as you watched their unfiltered joy.

Jack leaned close, his arm brushing against yours as he whispered, “This is my favorite part.”

“Mine too,” you replied softly, watching the kids with a warmth that spread through your chest.

After what felt like hours of watching the kids revel in their treasures, Jack stood and walked over to the tree. He crouched down, sifting through the remaining gifts before pulling out a small box wrapped in silver paper. Turning to you with a boyish grin, he said, “This one’s for you. From me.”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your coffee aside as you accepted the box. “Is this something I can open in front of the kids?” you teased, giving him a playful smirk.

Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, you can open it in front of the kids. I promise.”

The kids crowded around you, their faces alight with curiosity. You peeled back the paper, revealing a plain black jewelry box. Your heart skipped as you flipped it open — only to reveal not a necklace or earrings, but a single car key. Your eyes widened, disbelief etched across your face as you glanced from the key to Jack. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Jack said, his grin widening as he motioned towards the front door. “Go look in the driveway.”

The kids were on their feet before you, racing to the door with cries of “What is it? What is it?” trailing behind them. You followed, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You slipped on your uggs, opened the door and stepped on the porch, the cold morning air rushing against your cheeks, though you didn’t really notice.

Because there, in your driveway, was a brand-new Cadillac Escalade parked in the driveway, its polished black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. A massive red bow sat proudly on the hood, the ribbon fluttering slightly in the breeze.

You froze, your brain struggling to process what your eyes were telling you. Jack was at your side now, his hands resting casually in his pockets, his expression one of quiet pride. “Jack,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “did you seriously buy me a new car?”

He grinned, his gaze steady. “You were due for an upgrade. And you deserve the best, always.”

You turned to him, your heart so full it threatened to burst. “I — Jack, this is too much. It’s gorgeous.”

He shrugged, his tone light. “It’s got room for the kids, especially since they’re growing and Ellie just started hockey… And, y’know…” He paused, his eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. “Extra space. In case we want to expand the roster.”

The implication hung in the crisp air for a moment before you burst into laughter, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re welcome,” he replied, leaning in to kiss your temple.

Jack intercepted both Ellie and Grayson before they ran out in their socks, helping them into their winter boots. The kids’ squeals of excitement broke the moment as they darted down the steps of the porch toward the car, their tiny boots crunching against the frost-dusted driveway.

Ellie, impatient as ever, tugged at the door handle but stopped short when she realized it was locked. “Mommy, you have the key!” she hollered, hopping up and down in place.

You hurried down the steps, the car key still clutched in your hand. With a click of the key fob, the Escalade’s lights flashed and the doors unlocked. Ellie let out a triumphant cheer, yanking the door open with all the strength her five-year-old frame could muster. “It’s HUGE!” she exclaimed, climbing inside and sprawling across the back seat.

Grayson toddled after her, his shorter legs struggling to hoist him into the car. Jack reached down and gave him a boost, settling him beside Ellie.

Jack turned to you with a raised brow. “What do you think? Roomy enough?” His tone was casual, but you could see the hope in his expression, the eagerness to hear your thoughts.

You took a slow step forward, running your hand over the smooth, glossy paint. “Jack… it’s incredible. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say you love it,” he replied, leaning casually against the car with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. His smile was easy, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes that told you how much thought he’d put into this moment.

“I love it,” you said, your voice soft with sincerity. “But I love you more.”

His smile deepened, and he pulled you into a quick hug, his arms warm and steady around you. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Ellie’s voice interrupted the moment as she leaned into the front of the car. “Daddy! It has a screen! And buttons!” She pointed to the touch screen in the center console, her small fingers hovering over it like it was a treasure chest of untold riches. “Can I push one?”

“Not yet, El,” Jack said with a laugh. “Let’s figure out what they do first, okay?”

Grayson clambered into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “I drive!” he announced, his voice filled with authority.

“Oh no you don’t, buddy,” you said, opening the driver's seat door and scooping him up before he could start pressing buttons. He giggled as you twirled him in the air, placing him in the back beside Ellie.

Jack leaned against the car, watching the kids explore with the fascination only children could bring to something new. “I can already see this thing covered in crumbs and sticky fingerprints by the end of the week,” he joked, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You laughed, leaning into him. “Probably.”

Jack wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the kids giggle and chatter excitedly. The car was beautiful, but it was this moment — the shared joy, the love that radiated from your little family — that made it priceless.

You turned to Jack, resting a hand against his chest. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Just giving you what you deserve,” he replied, his voice soft with affection.

“Careful,” you teased, “you’re setting the bar pretty high for next Christmas.”

Jack grinned, leaning in to press a soft but loving kiss to your lips. “Good thing I like a challenge.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ get you home ] m. rempe

pairing : Matt Rempe x fem!reader

summary : Matt makes sure his best friend gets home safe after going out with him and a few of the Rangers after a win, but his plans change when she tells him how she feels about him

warning(s) : alcohol use and drunkenness, a heavy makeout, some suggestive comments

author’s note : got drunk so i started to write a fic and finished it while sober lol :))

༺═──────────────═༻

One of the things she loves about going out with Matt is the fact that he deters every guy from approaching her. Everyone views him as this scary guy because he’s a six-foot-seven hockey player but in reality, he’s probably the sweetest guy she’s ever met.

It works to her advantage though since she only ever wants to talk to him when she goes out with him.

Tonight in particular, she wants to stay glued to his side. He scored a goal in his playoff debut and all she wants to do is celebrate. She doesn’t want her attention to be pulled away from Matt.

The Rangers found a booth in a dark corner of the club they came to after game one against Washington and started buying drinks and shots for Matt after his goal that started this season’s playoff run.

She took so many shots with Matt when they first got to the club and kind of regrets it. She wanted to at least be coherent and remember her words when she tells Matt that she’s in love with him.

Tonight might not be the night to tell him though. She doesn't want him to think she's telling him because she's drunk or because he scored a goal.

Plus, she wants to be able to remember telling him and she isn't sure that's possible right now because of the amount of drinks and shots she's had. Tonight shouldn't be the night she tells her best friend that she's in love with him.

Once Trouba decides to leave, a bunch of the Rangers decide to follow him out the door. Once the captain leaves, that usually means whatever is going on is officially over. A lot of the older guys leave, but most of the younger guys like Matt and Braden stay for a little bit longer.

There are about three more rounds of shots before everyone else calls it a night. She stumbles out of the club holding onto Matt's arm so she doesn't fall on the sidewalk in her heels. She leans against his chest while he orders them an Uber to her apartment.

"Mm," she hums. "Comfy wall."

Matt laughs and wraps an arm around her shoulders to keep her stable. "You're so drunk," he comments. "How much have you had to drink?"

"A little less than you," she replies. "I think. How are you not stumbling after everything you've had today?"

He tucks his phone into the pocket of the pants he's wearing. "I'm a foot taller than you and over a hundred pounds heavier than you," he laughs. "Not to mention I have a faster metabolism and can handle my liquor. It's not my fault you're so short."

She looks up at him. "Hey, five-foot-six is not short," she retorts. "You're just freaking tall ." Matt laughs. "Out here having fucking trees for legs like God damn, Matt."

A car pulls up in front of them and Matt helps her get in the car. "Me and my tree legs are trying to get you home safely," he tells her. "You better be nice to me or I'm gonna leave you to get to your apartment by yourself."

"You'd never do that to me," she giggles. "You like me too much."

Matt slides into the car next to her and she immediately moves as close as she can to him. She rests her head on his shoulder before she shuts her eyes. Being drunk and being in a car is not the best combination. She'll gladly use Matt's shoulder as a pillow until they get to her apartment building. They're a good fifteen minutes away so she has time.

The Uber driver realizes who got into the backseat of his car so he and Matt talk about the game. The driver mentions Matt's goal and says what an amazing goal it was. She doesn't say anything but she agrees a thousand percent.

His goal was a beauty. It's something that he'll never forget for sure. She'll never forget celebrating it when it happened. Hearing his name announced during the next play will be something she'll remember hearing forever.

She listens to the conversation and smiles while they talk about the game. She doesn't chime in because she's afraid to open her eyes. The last thing she wants to do is throw up in an Uber.

About fifteen minutes later, the Uber pulls up to her apartment. The driver wishes Matt luck during the rest of the playoffs as he helps her out of the car. She thanks him as Matt shuts the door. Matt wraps an arm around her and helps her into the building.

As she walks through the lobby, she stumbles and loses her balance. With a groan, she slides out of Matt's grip and lands on the floor to pull off he heeled boots that she's wearing. "Stupid shoes," she says to herself. Matt laughs and holds a hand out to help her up when she is ready to stand back up.

"Why did you even wear heels to the game?" he asks as he pulls her up from the ground. "I mean, it's a hockey game."

"I wanted to look nice and dress up the jersey," she replies. Matt lent her his Stadium Series jersey. She might have to wear it for every game now since he scored a goal while she was wearing it. "Sorry I wanted to look nice. Good thing too since we went out afterwards."

It's easier for her to walk now that her feet are flat on the ground. She carries the shoes onto the elevator, where she leans against the wall for support.

"Are you still super drunk?" Matt asks. "I'm asking because I need to know if you'll be okay if I leave."

"We'll see," she mumbles as she drops her head to her left to look at him. "Can you stay anyway? Just in case?"

He nods and smiles as the elevator dings and the doors open.

She stumbles down the hallway to her apartment, dropping one of the shoes in the process. Matt picks it up and she uses her key to unlock the door. Somehow, she gets the door open, but she stumbles inside. Matt quickly wraps an arm around her waist before she can go crashing down to the floor.

The door closes behind them and she looks up at him. "Thanks," she says.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna stay," he comments. "You just fell into your apartment." She giggles and stands back up. Matt wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Do you want to shower or anything before you go to bed? Want a snack? You're going to drink at least one glass of water before going to bed."

She looks up at him and says, "I should probably shower since I got a drink spilled on my pants." That was Cuylle's fault and she wasn't very happy that she smelled like beer for the rest of the time they were at the club.

"I'll get him to apologize for that tomorrow when he's sober," Matt tells her. "For now though, bath or shower? Think you can shower?"

"I think I can shower," she replies. "A cold one might sober me up a bit. Some of the clothes that you've left here are all in a drawer if you want to pull something together, or I can give you this jersey since it's technically yours."

Matt smiles and shakes his head. "That jersey is yours now," he says. "I'll find something. Go shower the beer smell away."

She sticks her tongue out at him and stumbles her way to her room. She pulls out a large t-shirt and a pair of slightly too small Lululemon shorts to sleep in before walking into the bathroom for her shower.

The water is ice cold in hopes that it sobers her up enough for the conversation that's going to happen after her shower. She wants to make sure she remembers the entire conversation and whatever she says to Matt. She wants to remember his reaction and what he tells her when she tells him about her feelings.

It's going to go really well or really bad. She has no idea how it's going to go. He may just tell her that it's bad timing since the playoffs just started, or he'll fully embrace it. Maybe he'll tell her that he feels the same.

The unknown is what scares her.

After a short and sweet shower where she only washes her hair and body, she hops out and dries off. She shivers from how cold it was and dresses quickly.

When she walks out of the bathroom with her wet hair French braided down her back, she finds Matt laying on his back on her bed on his phone. He's typing away, probably replying to people that he didn't get to yet about his goal or the win. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of his Rangers hockey shirts that he found in the drawer.

Matt notices her standing in the doorway between the bedroom and her bathroom. "There's a glass of water on your table," he tells her. "I left some Advil for you too for the morning."

Just rip off the bandaid. It's time to get this over with.

"I have something I want to say first in case it chases you off," she tells him. "I don't know what your reaction is going to be when I say this but ... I love you."

"I love you too."

"No, Matt," she sighs. "I'm in love with you. I have been for months, maybe close to a year at this point. I know my timing isn't the best but I couldn't not tell you anymore. I'm not saying this because you scored a goal or because you won a playoff game or because I'm still slightly drunk but I am genuinely in love with you."

He stares at her while she talks, but as soon as she's done saying what she has to say, Matt gets up out of bed and walks up to her. "I knew what you meant," he comments. "I've been waiting for you to say something to me before I did this."

"Do wha-"

Before she can finish her question, Matt gently cups her jaw and leans down to press a light kiss to her lips. It's so light that she feels like he's just testing the waters.

It barely feels like a kiss when he pulls back.

She takes a step closer to him and looks up at him. "Can you please kiss me like you mean it?" she questions.

"Gladly."

He crashes their lips together in a more definitive kiss that makes her heart beat out of her chest. She presses herself against him and fists his t-shirt in her hand to hold him close to her. Matt's thumbs trace her cheekbones and she sighs. He takes full advantage and licks past her parted lips.

She presses her hands against his torso and pushes him toward the bed. She has to tilt her head up to kiss him and it's starting to hurt her neck. So she pushes him down until he falls back and is sitting on the mattress. She crawls onto his lap so they're at a more even level.

This isn't the reaction that she was expecting. Maybe Matt saying that he loves her too or some cuddles. She thought that kisses would wait until morning when they're both completely sober.

That being said, this is what she thought their first kiss would look like. Rough, needy. She kisses him like she craves him, and he kisses her back like he's been holding back. She's seen Matt kiss former girlfriends before and studied the way his lips move, but experiencing it is something completely different.

Her heart is in her stomach and her body shakes with anticipation. She truly cannot believe that this is happening right now.

She slides her hands down his chest and stomach then slithers her fingers up under his shirt. Matt hums and pulls back from the needy kiss. “Clothes are staying on until we’re both sober,” he tells her. She nods but is very distracted by how red and swollen his lips are.

All because of her.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t touch,” she replies. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Matt sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks her up and down in his lap. She reaches up with one of her hands and touches one of the scars on his cheek. He turns his head and presses a kiss to her wrist.

He trails kisses up her forearm and she smiles as he pulls her flush against his chest. She wraps her arms around his neck and Matt flips them so he’s pinning her down against the mattress.

She smiles and looks up at him. “You do know that I love you too, right?” Matt asks. “I mean, I knew what you meant when you told me that you love me. The timing couldn’t have been any better because I thought I was going to genuinely lose my mind if I held back from you any longer.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Matt replies. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for literally ever. I probably realized it in February when you were in the crowd for my NHL debut. Seeing you in that jersey tonight, oh my God. I thought I was going to actually lose it at the club.”

She smiles and grabs the bottom of his shirt. She fists the fabric and holds him close. “You could’ve made a move whenever you wanted and I probably would’ve been okay with it,” she admits. “I hated seeing you with random girls or old girlfriends. They never wanted you like I do.”

“I know,” he says. “I think I see that now. I’ve had a few girlfriends, but none of them have stuck around like you have.”

“By your side always,” she promises.

Matt leans down and kisses her again. The kiss almost feels like her sealing the promise.

Because she’ll never leave his side. Ever.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[xiaominghao]

Write's block

Genre: very domestic fluff.

Pairing: Seungcheol x writer-reader.

Warnings: none.

Yuin's note: Am I using my writer's block for my benefits? Hell yeah. Am I ashamed of it? Hell no.

You sighed, both of your elbows were resting on the table as you grabbed your head with both hands, murmuring something out of frustration. You turned off the computer to jump from the desk, leaving the bedroom toward the living room, and you let yourself fall heavily onto the sofa.

Seungcheol heard everything from the kitchen and came to see what was going on, only to find you sprawled, changing channels on the TV with apparent disinterest, as you flipped through them quickly.

He approached and leaned over the sofa, resting his crossed arms on its back, just to stay there for a few seconds without saying a word, which, given the moment, was actually a bit annoying.

"How much longer are you planning to do that?" you said with no enthusiasm.

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "I can stay here all day if necessary… Or until you turn to look at me."

You turned your face toward him, and there he was, his calm smile somehow a bit irritating; you weren’t in the mood to smile—you just wanted to be alone. Still, he didn’t flinch.

"Do you want me to sit, and talk for a while?" his voice was so soothing that it was impossible to get mad at him. You felt how, with just those simple words, your body relaxed a little.

Silently, you sat up to make a space for him, and Seungcheol took a seat next to you, turning off the TV so there wouldn’t be any noise to distract any of you.

"I have writer’s block and can’t write anything," you said before letting a deep sigh, a hint of guilt in your voice causing Seungcheol to get a bit more serious.

"Oh, I see," he rested his hand on your knee, stroking it gently, "you hadn’t told me. How long has it been like this?"

"A week, maybe?" You scratched your head in frustration, as if that would somehow help you think better. "I don’t know. I just know that if I don’t have something ready for this weekend, my boss is going to kick me out of the publishing house."

Seungcheol stayed thoughtful for a few seconds when an idea came to his mind, so he patted your knee to get your attention.

"Write something about me," he said with a big smile that lit up his face. You raised an eyebrow as if asking where on earth he had come up with that. "Well, about us. Maybe it won’t help with work, but it might help with the block."

“But… What should I write about?”

“Well…” his eyes wandered, trying to find a coherent answer, “probably a date? Like… Try no narrate it as if you were a narrator. A third person.” He chuckled as if he said the most embarrassing thing in the world, “I don’t know, does that make sense?”

You blinked repeatedly, analyzing what he had just said. At first glance, it didn’t seem like a bad idea, and after thinking it over for a moment, it even seemed like the solution to your problems.

"…I hadn’t thought of that before," you said, contemplating the idea. "Cheol, you’re a genius. I’ll start writing something right now."

"Wait, don’t you plan to rest?" Seungcheol grabbed your wrist to stop you from getting up. "You’ve been working all afternoon."

You could see on his face how he was trying to convince you in a rather shameless way, with his contemplative eyes and his grip—firm but not harsh. You frowned, feeling a bit indignant.

"Don’t look at me like that," you pointed at him with your finger, but Seungcheol just shrugged on his seat. "Cheol…"

"It’s not fair! It’s my day off, and I haven’t spent a minute with you," he complained, grabbing your wrist with both hands and laughing. "Stay with me and rest for a while."

"But I have work to do!"

"They won’t fire you for taking a half-hour break."

"You know it won’t be just half an hour. Cheol, let me go!"

[loganhowlettshousewife]

okay so feral logan i love him your honor I was just thinking, maybe logan when he's like chapter five-ish(? (like when he's already at peace with both his human and animal side). And idk he gets desperate, and so damn desperate that he's just like feral growling and grabbing and tugging at reader's clothes.

But but with him being actually so desperate so needy that is the reader who ends up taking control in bed and handing him everything he needs in a silver platter. Plain down just feeding him love in a silver spoon typa shit

taking control

animal - bonus headcanons

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

this doesn’t exactly follow your request but i love the idea of reader taking control in bed so... (also i haven’t written in almost a month so this may be bad)

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (m!receiving), unprotected piv, blood, logan’s canon pain kink

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan always takes control in bed. he starts off slow and loving, worshipping every inch of your body until the smell of your arousal is too much to bear and the animal in him takes control. he loses himself to his baser instincts to mate, to breed, to claim.

he’s needy and desperate, taking anything he can get, wanting anything you’re willing to give him. he’s in control, and yet sometimes, while you’re in the throes of passion, you’ll gasp out praise or whimper his name and feel him pause, faltering for a moment, his cock twitching inside you, caught off guard by his desperation to please.

you wonder what would happen if you took control, if you told logan that he had to obey your every command. all he ever wants is to make you feel good, you imagine he’d be so good at following orders.

it’s a thought that’s been running through your mind for days, one that haunts your every thought and yet never comes to pass, escaping you every time logan kisses you with the intention of going further, your brain melting into a puddle, suddenly unable to form coherent thoughts.

you’re dressed in a pretty red slip dress you’d bought specifically for logan reaction, waiting for the sound of the shower turning off, anticipating his arrival into your shared bedroom, warm and naked, hair damp and curling slightly, perfect and beautiful and yours.

you meet his eyes as he walks into the room, his eyes darkening in an obvious display of lust as they trail over your figure. you smile, pleased, as he rushes towards you, dropping his towel in his haste, trapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply.

you melt into the kiss, into the beautiful familiarity of his arms and his scent, into the warmth of his hands on your body. he lets his hands roam and explore your body as if it's both the first and last time he’ll ever have the opportunity, palming at your breasts, flicking his thumb over your nipples, leaving a trail of fiery heat with every brush of his skin against yours.

it’s nearly impossible to pull away, but you manage just enough to mutter the words into the shared air between you, your lips so close to his that they brush as you speak.

“i want to try something,” you say, hesitant, nerves and arousal and excitement mixing into a heady cocktail of sensations, “let me take control tonight.”

logan hesitates, and so you rise onto your knees on the mattress, running your hands over his shoulders and down his broad back, staring into his eyes as you plead gently, “i want to take care of you. you always make me feel so good and i want to return the favour. please?”

you know exactly what you’re doing to him, lowering your voice, giving him your best bedroom eyes, pleading. he hates to say no to you. he won’t say no to you.

logan’s agreement isn’t verbal, rather it comes in the form of his easy compliance as you switch positions. within moments you’re straddling him, grinding down against his hard cock as you mouth wet kisses on his neck and trailing down his chest, biting and sucking at the skin to leave marks. they won’t last and you both know it - you can already see his skin returning to its usual golden colour - and you wish not for the first time that he could keep them, to think of you every time he looks in the mirror, reminded of your adoration.

you reach his happy trail and shift your attention to his thighs, kissing around his cock but never touching it. it’s flushed red, tip leaking, begging for your attention. logan groans, fighting against the urge to grab you, clawing the sheets instead.

“fuck,” he groans, “please- need you.”

finally, you take him into your mouth, savouring the heady weight of him on your tongue. you take your time worshiping his cock, taking him as far as you can and using your hand to jerk off the remaining length of him. you bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue around the tip and catching on his slit.

he’s breathless, low sounds escaping his throat every time you take him deeper, swallowing around his cock. it’s unlike the rough growls he lets out when he’s fucking you, his voice a deep rumble uttering your name like a prayer, animalistic and wild and with an edge that would terrify you if you didn’t know him so well. he’s needy, almost submissive.

“fuck, darlin’, i’m close,” logan warns, and you pull off when you feel him start to twitch on your tongue.

“not yet,” you reply, a rough edge to your voice from the strain of taking him. he’s big enough to make blowjobs a challenge, but one that you enjoy, leaving your throat thoroughly wrecked afterwards. 

you climb onto his lap once more, kissing him, letting him push all of his restless energy into something, his hands finding purchase on your waist as his tongue explores your mouth, tugging you down so that you grind against him.

“help me take this off,” you tell him, tugging at the fabric. he wastes no time, his claws releasing with a sharp sknt, and in mere moments the pretty lingerie you’d bought is destroyed, pushed off your body and thrown aside by logan’s desperate hands. it doesn’t matter - you’d bought it knowing that logan would likely ruin it.

the sharp metal of his claws brushes against your stomach, the cold making you gasp. he starts to pull away but you grab a hold of his wrist, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss the divots between his knuckles where metal meets skin.

you grab logan’s cock, lining it up with your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. it’s always a challenge to take logan, even with your pussy dripping, slick with arousal. he stretches you out perfectly and for a moment you forget that you’re supposed to be in control, letting him control the pace as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, gentle as you adjust to the size of him.

you give him a warning look, pushing his hips down to stop their movement. logan could easily overpower you and continue, but he obeys, albeit grudgingly, letting you set the pace as you ride him.

the sight of him underneath you is heavenly, and you understand now why he can’t seem to control himself when your positions are reversed. 

it doesn’t take long for the both of you to lose yourselves to pleasure, your pace losing its rhythm, logan shallowly thrusting up into you, unable to hold himself back from chasing after the feeling. he can’t seem to form words, communicating his pleasure through animalistic growling and grunting, noises similar to the ones he’d made when you’d first met him and he lacked the capacity to speak.

you know what he needs, and though the position is slightly awkward, you lean forward to lick and suck at his neck, prepping the skin before biting down hard enough to draw blood. the warm, tangy taste of iron fills your mouth as logan cries out, pumping his cum deep inside you as you keep up the pace, your own orgasm so close you can taste it.

lazily, logan brings one hand to rub circles on your clit, providing the exact pressure you need to have you clenching around him as you come.

you collapse onto his chest in the aftermath, enjoying the feel of his sweat-slick skin against yours. you press your fingers over the bite mark you’d made on his neck, pouting at the way it’s already begun to fade, his skin stitching itself back together.

“it takes much more energy when you’re the one doing all the work,” you say, breathless, waiting for your heart rate to slow and stabilise.

he hums, “but you looked good on top of me.”

you laugh, pressing your face into his chest, stifling the sounds with his skin. he runs his hands over your back, lingering on the curve of your ass. it’s intimate without being inherently sexual, appreciative without necessarily pushing for more.

“does that mean you liked it?” you ask after a few more moments of basking in the comfort of his embrace.

“i think i’d like anything as long as it’s with you,” he says, a vulnerable declaration for only the two of you to know, one that squirrels its way into your heart and hides behind your ribs along with every other lovely confession logan has made to you.

“i think i need more practice, so i can figure out how to work around your strength and hold you down,” it’s a throwaway comment, you’re spent and comfortable and used to being able to speak your mind around logan.

his grip on your ass tightens, squeezing the flesh, and his cock stirs where it's trapped between your bodies. his lack of refractory period still occasionally catches you off guard, as it does now, and you gasp at his obvious interest pressing into your stomach.

“think you have the energy for that practice now?”

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[ontherunnt]

You didn't follow orders. Price needs to do something about it.

pairing: John Price x afab!reader

wc: 1191

warnings: smut, a bit of dom!Price, spanking, teasing, unprotected piv sex (just barely lol).

an: this was meant to be a short one, but I might write a second part for it because I feel rather unfulfilled 🧍🏼‍♂️

Price had built wall after wall when it came to you. He’d buried every feeling, pretending he didn’t care—pretending his gaze didn’t linger whenever you walked into the room, that his heart didn’t leap to his throat at the slightest brush of contact. He tried—he really did—to feign a nonchalance that simply wasn’t real. Not with you.

He’d been warned—by countless people—not to get involved with anyone he worked with. Mixing love and duty, they said, would never swing in his favour. Rank came at a cost, and sooner or later, he’d find himself entangled in a power dynamic that would strain everything.

And, to his dismay, they’d been right.

Whenever you were in the picture, it was near impossible for the captain to think straight. He dreaded missions where your name appeared on the briefing file. Hated having to play the role of your commanding officer and nothing more. Hated the look on your face whenever he had to put his foot down—when duty demanded he reprimand you, not protect you.

It had been taxing on the relationship—until John found a way to correct you without letting it bleed into the relationship. 

“John,” you moaned against the pillow, voice muffled and strained. “Please—fuck. Please, John.”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears. The sound of your whimpers blended almost seamlessly with every slap he let fall on your ass. The sound of his palm against the tender flesh made his cock twitch in his pants, still fully clothed as he hovered behind your naked frame on the bed—face down against the pillow, hands tied behind your back with your own shirt, ass perked up. 

He took a long look, licking his lips like a thirsty man. The sight was enough to make him come undone, which is why he’d deliberately focused on you. 

His hand fell roughly on your ass, the skin reddened and swollen from the aggressive, nonstop slapping you’d endured for the past twenty minutes. You whimpered at the contact, burying yourself deeper into the pillow. 

“How many times,” he groaned, violent hands now turning kind as he caressed one swollen cheek in gentle motions, “have I told you I’m your captain?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes closed and mind clouded in what could only be described as a trance. Sweat beaded along your brow and neck, lip quivering from the sheer, painful bliss of being completely under John’s control.

Every nerve in your body seemed to pulse in rhythm with his voice—low, deliberate, impossible to ignore. You were hyper-aware of everything: the heat of his hands, the weight of his gaze, the way your body responded without permission. That acute awareness was both a blessing and a curse.

When he pressed his hot mouth against your swollen cunt, you could’ve sworn you saw stars. The noise that escaped your throat didn’t feel human, but he didn’t care. He lapped at the slit, arms trapping your thighs with nearly painful force. The bed beneath you creaked as the repositioned himself, dragging his tongue from bottom to top. It circled around your clit in a rhythm that made your eyes roll so far back, you could’ve seen your brain. 

He was relentless. Ruthless in the way he lavished attention on you. The warmth of his mouth sent an electric shock all the way up your spine, rendering you useless and incapable of straining together coherent sentences. His tongue found your entrance, pushing inside exquisitely slow. One of his hands found your reddened cheek, rubbing slow circles on it before harshly slapping it, drawing a whimper from you.

He sucked on your cunt once, causing you to reach for him with your bound hands, useless and infuriating. Before you could ask what he was doing, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. 

“Out there, I’m your captain,” he repeated, voice gruff and undeniably angry. “I’m not your partner, and I sure as hell am not your friend.”

On that last word, he delivered a painful slap to your ass. The sound you made was something between a whimper and a sob, testament of how close to the edge you were. John had been brutal for the last thirty minutes, insistent on getting his point across. 

“John,” you pleaded, tears welling your eyes. You couldn’t see anything behind you, but you could feel everything.

You flinched when he caressed your ass, recoiling away from his touch when his lips trailed lazy kisses from one cheek to the other, lingering on your soaked lips while he dragged his tongue across the slit one last time. 

The unmistakeable sound of fabric rustling signalled to your aching cunt that the torture was over. His calloused hands were now soft, even tender as they rubbed the angry skin. You felt his legs pressing against the back of your thighs, and the familiar weight of his cock lined up against your entrance. 

He dragged the tip across your swollen lips, letting out a groan as he did. You leaned further back, desperate to feel him, only to hiss in pain when he lay a palm on your cheek—not as punishment, but as a warning. 

“You listen to me,” he said with a low growl. He gripped your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. You moaned with anticipation, biting your lip as to not tell him to just fuck you already. 

When you felt the tip push in only an inch, you couldn’t help it anymore.

“Christ—okay,” you cried out. “Please, please, please—.”

He yanked a fistful of your hair, bending over your arched back in an attempt to close the distance between you. The sudden pull rubbed his thighs against your ass, eliciting a painful moan from your throat. The movement pushed his tip even further in, which you couldn’t have been more grateful for.

His lips were close enough to your ear to raise every hair on your body. His voice was low, grave, dangerously velvety despite the situation. “Ask nicely, love.”

Maybe if you hadn’t been so desperate, you would’ve. But your skin was painfully raw and bruised, you were sweating from places you didn’t know sweat, and you were so empty it was nearly tortuous. Instead of asking, you thrusted back in a swift move, and whimpered against the pillow when his entire girth filled you, stretching you so, so deliciously painful. 

He was caught so off guard he momentarily lost all strength, letting his weight fall on your back. With your hair still tightly in his grip, you had to crane your neck in an unnatural angle. Despite the pain on your bottom, you couldn’t stop yourself from smirking victoriously at the sight of this man, this captain, fall like a puppet without strings when buried deep inside you. 

That victory was short lived, because once he regained his strength he yanked on your hair forcefully, breath ragged and laboured. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

He rammed into you at full force, and you wondered how the hell you were meant to survive the following hours. 

[theothernads]

⊹ ࣪. ❛❛ 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟕 ❞ ❀

۶ৎ── [─ 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2]

─────────────────────────────────

─────────────────────────────────

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

ֶ⟡ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!Enha!xf!reader ❀

۶ৎ─── 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: biting, violence against ALL characters, chainsaw, GORE, BLOOD (more than last time), death, Enha are REALLY mean, handcuffs, vampires (duh), needles, and a LOT of violence, some noncon neck kisses and touches (nothing more than that). I DO NOT CONDONE these behaviours; this is all for entertainment purposes and in NO way does this reflect on the real Enhypen members! You don't like? scroll onto my Jungwon smau or summer headcannons!!

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

──⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 20k ꒰ ꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘:

─── ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒]: okay, so i have returned with part 2. And, I am so sorry that this took so long but I was trying to make the plot coherent with Y/n and the other characters, and also trying to make the writing a little more smoother. I mean, I am 90% happy with the outcome but I kept proof-reading it and idk, I just know that a lot of people have been waiting. I need to stop beating around the bush lmao!! Please tell me if you liked it or not. I love seeing your replies and asks. It is so fun!!

「」 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 1 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

─────────────────────────────────

FACILITY 007.

The one thing that caged the seven vampires now caged you within. The grey walls stayed so still you thought they were staring right back at you; the silence hummed over your heartbeat, persistent and repetitive, reminding you of your situation; and the leather cuffs stuck to your wrists with an unmoving strength.

You hugged yourself, knees drawn to your chest and back against the wall as you breathed into your trousers.

Counting was the only thing you could do without having all your panic spike up again. It sounded like insanity in this room and you didn't speak a word in two, whole days. Maybe it was your defiance. Or it was the only thread you had in control over your actions, thoughts, and words.

Those vampires stripped away your mother, your skin, and now the Facility. You don't know the fate of your friends or the other scientists. You only know yours. 

And that was aiding them in the path of making a corrupt venom for them to use and throw like water. As if it didn't possess the ability to reorganise the wires in the brain so that their rationality flew right out the mental window. Right and wrong would become a little more similar, no longer linear.

In fact, you felt like all your sanity defenestrated right out of your mental scape right this moment. Instead of crying, you picked yourself up shakily, hunger clutching at your stomach, gnawing at your sides, and you stumbled into the bathroom.

The room was practically camouflaged with the same grey paint, a toilet seat, a shower head that hung high on the wall, and a sink that had a sensor when hands were near. The chain around your ankle made a metallic click, the door not fully closing because of it. That never crossed your mind. The privacy that never existed in the prison cell and the way it put a gate to creativity. It was just so… dead.

Closing the door as much as you could, you splashed some water on your face, rubbing it into your eyes as if it would help you think better from the last two days.

There was no mirror so God knew if you looked like the perfect display of sleep deprivation and despair sunken into your cheeks. Or maybe mourning.

For the past two nights, you gave into sleep, not because of the desire to dream, but because exhaustion screwed into the sides of your temples and forced your head to fall. Even that wasn't enjoyable because your mother's bloodied figure appeared like a ghost that you couldn't hide from. And it was the same moment—over and over again. You turn, the chainsaw would slice through her side, blood broke through the skin and fabric, and then her lips parted as if to say something. She fell. You wake up and then, you stay up for the rest of the night, torturing yourself with your own thoughts. 

You were honestly your own enemy.

Swallowing the bile, one of your bound hands managed to slip into the pocket of your pants to feel the small cylinder within. A small cylinder that not only held the last vial of antivenom, but also the last shred of hope. This little thing came into memory when you slept awkwardly on your side to find it poking into your thigh. But God, did you care? 

Absolutely not. Because instead of a small vial, you saw remnants of faith, escape.

Tentative, you held it in your palm, the deep blue liquid sloshing around, knowing you held the fate of your own fight in your hands. It's all up to you. Except, this wasn't clearly enough for all the vampires; it would only blind the cell function of one of them, and how much would they need to be killed?

You sighed, leaning back against the sink, thoughts morphing into one, giant hurricane of possible notions to set up the rough planning of your escape. The vampires were physically stronger on all levels, outmatched you by a thousand. You were practically made of hay compared to them. If strength wasn't the weapon to choose, you simply had your mind to use against them. 

Looking down at the vial now, you don't know how much of this could suppress their abilities, their lust for blood and violence, but you had to try. The only thing you can do is to replicate it, but you could only do so with your mother's notes, which were probably locked away in the safety of her lab cabinets. The same lab where the light drifted from her eyes.

Biting your lip hard, you blinked the tears away furiously, shoving the vial back into your pocket. Enough of that. No tears. You couldn't show that type of weakness when your vow of silence was still alive. 

Once you breathed, counted to ten, you opened the door of the bathroom only to jump when you saw Jungwon and Sunghoon, hands in their pockets, gazing at you like they had been standing and waiting there for centuries. 

The dread was hard to miss as it sunk into your heart, swallowing it whole, forcing the beats of your heart to shake. Had they seen the vial? Surely not. They haven't killed you yet. 

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow.

“Jumpy.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out the sandwich squished and wrapped in clingfilm, soggy. You swallowed hard and limped to the stupid, cold bench and sat. 

Jungwon blinked and Sunghoon chucked the snack on the surface next to you like you were a fish to take bait.

“You need the energy, so eat,” Jungwon said, tone heavy and final with a demand that you hated to hear. You glanced. The sandwich looked sad and depressed. Deflated, even. You took it with bound hands and began to unwrap it.

“Still silent,” Sunghoon mumbled to Jungwon. He hummed.

“Won't do if we need to ask her about any progress,” Jungwon purred with danger rippling in his tone. You stiffened, hands halting midway but Jungwon stepped forward, clutching the sandwich from you in a blink. He began to unwrap it, but it felt like he was peeling away the layers that hid a danger underneath. You stared shakily, fists clenched as he held the snack like an ultimatum. 

“Speak.”

You didn't. He was treating you like a rat, all chained up in the stupid leather and metal, staring like you were on display for disobedience. You didn't want to act like one, to be zapped and then conditioned.

Jungwon tilted his head, a spark of annoyance breaking through his patience, but he placed the sandwich back down, and stepped back. “Suit yourself. We'll come get you later as well to make the venom.”

‘As well’? When they both turned, your head snapped up.

“What… where are Taehyun and Soobin…? What did you do with my mother?” You asked hoarsely, voice chapped like it had been dragged through a desert. They both halted, and only Jungwon turned with a ghost of a smirk, not exactly looking at you.

“Your friends… are fine.” He shrugged a little. You dared to let relief breathe over your chest like a breeze. But then, he said, “your mother was quite a snack, though. Sunoo said it was similar to yours, but lacked some iron. She should have taken her iron tablets.”

At his unnerving comment, anger tore through your body like an earthquake stunned your organs, and you lunged at Jungwon only for the ankle chain to bite into your skin and warn you to still. But at that point, you didn't care. You just wanted to eradicate the smug smirk off his stupid face. How dare they?

 He didn't look bothered because he slowly turned with all the time in the world, and smiled coldly. Your fists uselessly aimed at him but missed by a few taunting inches. Jungwon watched the display of futility and Sunghoon turned and crossed his arms, watching the anger twist your face and your lungs until your breaths turned heavy.

“It's only true, Intern Song,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow of mirth. 

“You sick fuck—”

“Careful with your words,” he said, cutting your vulgar words short, the danger returning like a stone and making you stop. Oh right. Any more disrespect and he would let the others drain you of your life.

You forced your breaths to slow and let your shoulders slump as if defeat snaked into your joints and collapsed whatever fight you had. Sunghoon smiled to himself and Jungwon hummed, satisfied.

“There. Good girl. Now, sit and eat your sandwich. Remember the deal you made,” he said with a grin, mockery lighting his eyes on purpose. Even when you didn't move, they both did and closed the sliding door, sealing you in. 

The lock may have kept you trapped in but that didn't stop the growing determination that flickered hungrily in your chest.

You vowed to yourself you would stop them one way or another.

۶ৎ───────────────

The sirens outside blared loudly on the premises. It sounded like it was down below. Maybe three—no, four police cars had pulled up, probably to break a way in.

You weren't hopeful. Not when Riki and Heeseung came to collect you later, undoing the chain at your ankle, and holding you by your arms, leading you out.

It didn't bother them, which deeply bothered you.

When another round of sirens came and then silenced, Riki scoffed as he and Heeseung dragged you along the ground floor, the dim hallways flickering with a dying light.

“You would think they give up,” Riki mumbled, annoyed. Heeseung's frown remained like a heavy thread sewn into his lips.

“That's the thing about humans. They're all… a little stupid,” he replied, almost giving you the side-eye, which you took an internal offense at. They turned you to the familiar corridor of the second floor, the one leading to the East Wing through a glass tunnel displaying the night sky that bled into the horizon.

Riki snorted. “Yeah, well, I don't doubt that for a second.”

So police officers had already tried gaining authority over the place, but somehow, these vampires tackled every single one, as if they had predicted the move of a chess piece from a long way away. Something curled in your chest, tightening around your nerves in thick worry.

“They should send the real strong ones. You know, trained and stuff,” Riki murmured.

“Police officers are trained. Besides, they'll be good subjects for the venom.” Heeseung didn't say anything more, steering your silent self forward.

Of course. They needed more patients, more test trials to torture with experiments and danger. As if playing with lives would be easy and attached with no consequences. Then again, you don't expect these vampires to even have a blueprint of morality sketched into them, let alone care about the horrific outcome.

When approaching the set of double doors, it burst open before Heeseung could touch it, and a man fell through, heaving and with bloodshot eyes.

You flinched as he crawled towards you like craving something resembling humanity. He wore a uniform, or a weak excuse of it. The bulletproof vest hung off one side, hair frantic and coursing in different directions, and he had small cuts pricking his cheek.

“H-help me—”

His words were cut when Sunoo and Jay came through, crimson eyes bleeding into something darker, more nefarious, and with their weapons silently accompanying them in the firm grip of their sinful hands.

The man yelled but Sunoo clawed him in the cheek, skin breaking in three, sleek lines until blood ran down his face, eyes glassy, and his limbs trembling. You felt sick.

Jay rolled his eyes. “Bad choice.”

“Horrible, even,” Sunoo muttered, as if disgusted. 

“We're not supposed to kill them, remember?” Riki said to the two boys before them, but Jay clicked his tongue, eyes still on the quivering man.

“We weren't before he tried to shoot at Jungwon.”

And at that moment, the mechanical roar shuddered from behind the double doors, shaking the ground like a promise of death. 

The sound instantly made you cringe, a lump anchoring in your throat and to your stomach, dragging the metal of sickness in your gut. Lo behold, Jungwon came through with manic eyes on the man, his chainsaw blundering your ears until you couldn't hear anything but him and his violence. 

The man yelled, crawling back and desperately heading to you, knowing your eyes were the only human ones right now. A shaky breath left you as Jungwon narrowed his gaze, blonde hair messy, and lifted the roaring weapon to a peak in the air.

Then, he brought it down on the man's back, blood staining his uniform and pooling at the white floor as he let out a gurgling scream that weakened your knees into air.

The blood splattered against Jungwon's shirt and face but he wore it like a badge, and didn't stop until the man became a limp body lost to the chainsaw.

The smell was the worst. The metal stung your nose and shoved you into a memory of the exact moment your mother died; icy eyes and the unspoken urge for safety through her bloodied torso. The man's blood became hers, but both were lost to the weapon. To Jungwon.

You didn't even realise you were breathing hard until Jungwon peered up at the way your eyes blinked away tears, focusing on the man. He gave a chilling smile. Sunoo and Jay stepped aside, giving way to Jungwon as he stood before you. Your eyes stayed glued to his torso. You were so afraid that if you even glanced back, all your composure would be cut loose all because of his crimson gaze.

“Is she going to the labs?” Jungwon asked smoothly to Heeseung and Riki, ignoring the tremble in your eyes. They both nodded and Jungwon hummed, satisfied, and leaned down to your lowered gaze. It was as if he was taunting you, ready to push you to your limit but held back.

“Remember the deal…” he forced your gaze to his when he lowered himself. “Any funny business and I would take the greatest pleasure in turning you.”

With no reply, Jungwon stepped back to let Heeseung and Riki lead you past the dead man, and further away, all while your legs crumbled and swayed.

۶ৎ───────────────────

The labs smelled like blood and death. The familiar hallway had scraps of metal littered on the floor, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn't get to peer into the patient room as you were steered into the familiar labs. The doors were off its hinges.

Heeseung held you by the upper arm, directing you into the chilled lab, the mechanical hums of the lights remaining the same, as if it didn't witness violence and death in the most gruesome way.

When entering the main room, a few faces turned to you, about nine faces to be exact, and the ones you recognised instantly were Taehyun and Soobin. Alive, wide-eyed and with questions bubbling in them. And relief. Once Riki unbound the cuffs, you hurried to Taehyun and Soobin with an urge to hug the shit out of them. But with the two predators behind you, the thought quickly fell away.

“Your neck,” Taehyun said incredulously, staring at the two deep puncture holes in your skin, branding you as a meal. The others looked, some murmured but you just covered it with your palm.

“Don't… don't worry about it,” you whispered, suddenly too self-aware. Why? You don't exactly know, but the mark spoke words you didn't say, dug into your skin and displayed the power the vampires held over you at that moment; it also held the deep shame that it was your fault for not fighting them off or thinking of another way to avoid that hurdle. Unfortunately, you got yourself tangled in it anyway, and you wanted nothing more than to skin off that status branding your skin.

Taehyun simply nodded and let you through before Heeseung cleared his throat. “You make the venom. Nothing else.” He looked at you.

“I know,” you uttered with a sharper edge than you wanted. He looked like he would say something just as biting but held back, only holding you with his own hard stare of disapproval. Then, he went to the adjacent room, talking with Riki.

As soon as they did, the other scientists gathered near you with worry, but they didn't say anything quite yet. For now, those questions could wait in line. You needed to get your plan out. Before you said anything, a man with glasses approached, monolids and wisdom etched into his face.

“I'm Dr. Kim Namjoon. I worked with your mother but we haven't formally met,” he said softly, as if treading lightly around the topic of your dead parent. It stung, but you met his gaze with a nod.

“Song Y/n.” You glanced at the others and got to know Seokjin, Minju, Chaewon, Moka, and Yeonjun. You had probably spotted them before in the cafeteria but never spoke, but introductions weren't the most necessary factor right now. Nor were memories of before. And then, you gathered them at the far corner of the lab, careful not to hover near where your mother had died. Then, you looked at them urgently.

“I have a plan.” You started with a whisper, afraid that any one of those vampires would tune in. They all shifted but remained tentative.

That's when you pulled out the small vial of antivenom, the dark blue liquid like a light in the darkness. Taehyun recognised it, snapping his gaze to you.

“You had one left?” He mumbled in alarm. Nodding to him, you replaced it back in your pocket.

“We can replicate it. I know you haven't tested it on the vampires, but… if it is able to stop healthy cells function, then…”

“Then, the vampires could die with it,” Chaewon replied in tandem. Silence swiftly rolled in and you nodded.

“But we have to be careful.” Your eyes flickered to the shadows moving around in the adjacent room, possibly attempting to dismantle any defiance you had left within.

Moka glanced, eyes folded with fear and memories from the last three days. “How are we going to make the antivenom when we have to do the opposite? They want us to make a venom.” 

Chaewon made a disgruntled sound of agreement, as much as it pained her. “Good point. What happens when they try to test the venom and it doesn't turn them?”

“We can always make a fake,” you replied easily, eyes wandering for any internal answers. Again, discomfort loomed over everyone.

“A fake?” Soobin echoed carefully. Namjoon stepped up with Seokjin, both of them exchanging glances.

“We can make a diluted form. Weak but not enough to corrupt them,” Namjoon suggested quietly, but this gave you a new jolt of hope. Like it had soared through your spine, making you straighten.

“You can?” 

He nodded with a fraction of joy. 

“Then, we need two different teams. One will make a weak version of the venom. The other will—”

“—make an antivenom for those vampires,” Taehyun finished your sentence with the same hope swelling in his tone. If this worked, life would look a lot more than the walls of Facility 007.

“I know my mother's reports are here somewhere, locked. But, we can do it,” you murmured, glancing at the multiple cabinets locked behind you. 

“Even if the venom doesn't turn them, it doesn't stop the vampires from doing it themselves,” Soobin clutched himself tighter.

“Which means we have a deadline,” Minju said with a terrified realisation striking her face. Even doubt of your own slithered so subtly past your throat and clutched at your ribs like coiled rubber bands. You took a breath.

“Then we have no time to lose. We make the antivenom. And we escape Facility Seven.”

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

Nine PM hit and where the skies blackened into ultimate darkness, you were being escorted back by Jungwon to the lonely prison room upstairs. But it didn't matter. Those four walls weren't enough to stop the seed of encouragement from growing and breaking out in wild vines and thorns. You were going to get out with everyone and beat these vampires.

For once, your heartbeat was steady with a slight jump, as if you couldn't restrain your own anticipation. Jungwon flickered his gaze to you, jaw tightening.

“You… sound different,” he murmured, somewhat accusing. Realising you weren't even trying to control your internal happiness, you huffed out a breath of annoyance.

“I'm not.” You kept following him as he approached the prison door, sliding it open swiftly. Jungwon's accusation didn't move from his creased brows.

“I'm not stupid so don't treat me as such,” he snapped lowly, shoving you forward until you steadied yourself on the bench with a shaky breath. Turning back, he was already lurking over you like a stormy cloud, eyes red and ready to shred you to pieces with one wrong move.

“I'm being tied up and imprisoned. I don't feel much anymore,” you replied with a deliberate tone of anger. He just stared before picking up the ankle chain and gripping your calf without invitation. Even though there was no point resisting, you yanked your leg back only for him to dig his nails into your trousers, manhandling your foot. You winced, and he snagged the cuff around your ankle, tighter than before that it felt like he screwed it into your skin.

Then, the leather cuffs—he wasn't gentle with that either, tightening them until it morphed into your wrist. Jungwon stood, unimpressed.

“Why am I the only one here? Why can't I be with the others?” You asked, not bothering to stand up. He didn't reply for a few seconds, the harsh twinkle in his eyes never ceasing before tilting his head, his patience thinning.

“Because you keep pushing your limits and isolation should be the answer to such actions,” he muttered with scorn before turning on his heel and walking away.

When he did, your lungs loosened from the metal screws of anxiety, and your thoughts rushed like a marathon. You had no idea if he knew what you were up to, if that small detail of your chirpy heartbeat had already given you away to the enemy itself. It wouldn't be helpful if it did. Everyone here needed that freedom, including you, and you wanted to deliver that. Meaning no more of your hope overreacting and practically putting a sign of I'm–deceiving–you–and–your–brothers over your chest.

You curled your knees to your chest and hoped in silence.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The next day, you had kept the vial wrapped away in a secret, and kept your words to a low when discussing the antivenom. The senior researchers started to make the diluted version of the venom, almost a small fraction of what the real one was like.

During your time there, you flipped through your mother's file, the one dotting and drawing her comments on the vicious antivenom, the last one telling how it killed normal cells too. It wasn't just an observation to you, but more of a promise that you held onto. A prophecy you wanted to make true.

Despite all that, the sirens in the distance happened once more, near the East side. Recalling back to Heeseung and Riki's conversation, they obviously were expecting the police officers to attack from below, preparing for it with open arms. And the police forces didn't even know. If only you could tell them that it was their plan dressed in a disguise of a seemingly abandoned building. To communicate with them that going through the ground floor would be signing a predictable death wish.

Communicate. Ground floor. Your phone. 

Your back straightened so hard that Sunghoon tilted his head from behind you, near the counter. The gaze struck you, forcing you to feign a headache and go back to scribbling nonsense in the lines. Again, if they even found a speck of your plan, it would be over and you know Jungwon would turn and torture you.

It sent a minor shudder through your heartbeat. Sunghoon stared, then glanced away.

When it was time to return to your prison cell, the distant sounds of guns ricocheted downstairs, yells and screams blending together to make a horrific melody. The tension clustered at your shoulders as Sunghoon moved you along with him. He didn't seem phased, built of nonchalance and control with a tight jaw and eyes looking forward.

The fourth floor was silent as Sunghoon slid the cuff onto your ankle and wrists, the command in them tiring you. Even then, you spoke. “You're not going to kill… all of them, are you?”

His back was turned to you, but you knew he wanted to answer. And he did, steering his gaze over his shoulder with a wall of something hidden and suspicious, like he was cherry-picking some things to reveal and some things to fabricate his sentence with. Then, he said, “no.”

Relieved or anxious, you had no idea.

“We can't. Not all of them anyway. Once you create the venom, we have to actually inject them with it, turn them, and then they can spread it to others, too. Well, assuming you are in the process of making it,” he said, lowering his gaze slightly to pin you into place, like he had silent dominion over you. “And you are, aren't you?”

With a grit jaw and a lie interlaced with it, you nodded once. He narrowed his gaze before straightening up and walking away, locking the room to a bolt. 

Maybe they are onto you. Meaning things might have gotten trickier.

The plan was still the same, though. Get the antivenom made, plunge it into those deadly brothers, and stop the vampirism for the bitten ones. Then, escape.

Easy.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The next day was the same. Heeseung was in the room, hovering by the counter a few metres away and a sniper built into his gaze. His arms were crossed, his vigilance dressed in a dangerous crimson as he tracked your back, the gauze at your neck where the puncture wounds were from Sunoo's bite.

You were with Taehyun, Namjoon, and Moka, glancing at the steps to make the diluted venom and the antivenom. To fool Heeseung, Namjoon cleared his throat.

“It's coming along. We just need to separate the venom from the plasma. So fractionate them,” he said, letting his index finger draw a useless path of conclusion on the page. You and the others nodded.

“I can do that,” Moka said softly, playing along, knowing there was nothing useful written on the paper.

Namjoon walked away with her whilst you rubbed your temples, your neck pulsing like it demanded attention for healing. Taehyun tilted his head, empathetic.

“Is it hurting?” He murmured softly, fingers hovering over your shoulder until they softly landed there, wishing he could transfer all your pain to him. With a weak, but non-committed smile, you nodded and grabbed a pen.

“I'm okay,” you uttered, glancing over your shoulder to see Heeseung glaring at nothing in particular on the floor.

Perfect. He's distracted. You hunched over the desk, writing something hastily. Taehyun glanced.

‘I think I know a way to escape if we can't get out by the ground floor’ you wrote. 

Also grabbing a pen, Taehyun began to return the secret reply. ‘How? Why can't we use the ground floor?? Won't the vampires be dead by the time?’

‘Some are bitten. Probably used as their own personal guards. And have guns. We can't inject them with antivenom. Only the main 7’ you replied with a sigh of contemplation. Taehyung nodded once, slow.

‘How?’

‘I need my phone and we need to speed up the process of the antivenom. I'm going to figure out something’.

After that, you tucked away your anxiety, clutched at all the straws of your courage, and went up to Heeseung. You readied your words and confidence not to crumble before his crimson ones. Instantly, he stiffened and narrowed his gaze. 

“I need to go to my mother's office.” You glanced straight at the crimson river of thoughts that were his scrutinising eyes. 

“Why?”

“A file. She was the senior staff here so she has most of the information on anything regarding the venom,” you said smoothly, almost proud of yourself for becoming a liar. He didn't move, and then, he grabbed the leather cuffs abandoned at the side.

“You're wearing these.”

Without complaining, you let him cuff you to one, the other hand held in his, and you cautiously walked through the hallways coiled with unspoken tension. Some officers, or previous patients walked past you, but their eyes were a darker shade of black, as if there was a physical black hole sucking up all their senses and leaving behind a hollow shell of themselves. They staggered past, and you focused on the path in front.

Your mother's office wasn't a long way away, and her door was unlocked. The reason why you came here was because you left your bag and phone in here before working that fateful day. And before the vampires and their lethality invaded the place like an earthquake.

Entering her office set off emotions you desperately tried to bury. The mourning, grief, and guilt swarming you like death was personally here to nag you. Her chair had her cardigan cloaked over it, files neatly stacked on the corner of her desk, and shelves adorned with even more colourful binders archiving her wisdom.

It smelt like paper and old coffee, and sandwiches. You released a shaky breath but moved forward. You needed to get out to fully mourn her despite your quivering emotions.

Heeseung didn't let go as you maneuvered behind her desk, his eyes clutching to every movement. You had to be discreet. And you saw the moment as you pretended to stumble forward into the stacks of files. In a glorifying second, it all tumbled to the floor behind the desk and her chair. 

Heeseung scoffed at your apparent clumsiness, and allowed you to move the chair and kneel down. Under the desk was your bag, shadowed and untouched. Your phone peeked out the pocket like a puzzle to be collected. One thing you prayed for was that you hoped it wasn't dead. Getting a cord would be a suicide mission.

While pretending to gather and scan the files you sneakily swiped the phone but held it beneath a random file labelled with nonsensical numbers. Confident that Heeseung wouldn't ask what it meant, you stood with a mask of indifference over the glee.

“I got it.” You showed him the file. And thank the universe for making Heeseung despise verbal communication. You let him lead you out, but the tension fell away slightly, making you breathe somewhat lighter.

It was going to plan.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

You underestimated them. Greatly.

Heeseung took you back to your room, sliding the door into place and allowing you to rush to the bathroom in a cuff and struggle. You held the phone from your pocket and smiled down at it like it bloomed flowers out of air.

This should allow you to call the police and progress the plan. You were so glad, though. Remaining in Facility 007 was starting to induce an annoying itch in the deep crevices of your brain.

But as soon as you began to put in your password, the sliding door slammed open outside making your body jolt in alarm. The previous tension coiled back. They usually left you alone for the night so why and who came back?

Having to forget about the phone, you hid it behind the sink before the bathroom door opened with a snap, and you turned on your heel. Jungwon stood there, grabbing your upper arm with a hostile demand that shut you up, and shoved you out there to Jake, who caught you. You landed with a small ‘oof’.

When you were about to speak, Jungwon loomed over you with messy, blonde locks, and a frown to stain for days. 

“If you are hiding something, you tell me now,” he snapped darkly. Your heart dropped to your belly, and they both noticed. Jake stepped forward and you took one back, speechless, trying to stitch something together.

“Well?”

“I'm not! How can I!?” You remarked loudly, in desperate defence, but Jungwon found the hitch in your heartbeat, too easy to miss. He scoffed.

“You're on thin ice. You already know that, so why would you even dare hiding something?”

“I'm not! I swear!” You grew urgent, eyes wide and narrowed with panic as you backed away. They stalked your steps, Jungwon being much more relentless. Jake just scanned. “You know I can't defeat you.”

“I don't care what you can and can't do, I'm asking for you to spill it before I allow Jake a bite,” Jungwon remarked with a crushing gravity in his tone. It was final and threatening, enough for you to stumble back so quickly that your ankle pulled taut and you lost balance when your foot was caught.

You groaned slightly as you fell with a harsh thud and their figures stood over you with restraint and malice all at once. 

They couldn't have known. You didn't even speak to Taehyun about the phone, and you know he scrunched up the paper and disposed of it. You didn't even show him the success of getting your phone, just a nod. Apprehensive, your breath made another hitch as if it hit a tall hurdle and failed.

“I'm not hiding a thing,” you uttered again. Disbelief struck Jungwon in the face and he glanced away in frustration, a hand raking through his hair. Jake narrowed his gaze, sparing his younger brother a glance. And you didn't like the look, the message transferring like a radio wave you couldn't sense.

Once more, Jungwon knelt to you, still towering over you like a haunted building. “Last time.” He dug his red gaze into yours. “Tell me what you're hiding and Jake hyung won't bite you.”

There was no way you were about to tell on yourself, about the phone—your only way out of this dangerous tunnel. You had to use it but you didn't even get to that bit either. Your eyes remained stunned, silent, and bolted with hidden refusal.

Jungwon stood, nodding as if disappointed, but really, it was a resignation of playing nice. You tensed.

Then, Jake was on you.

A scream tore from your throat as Jake's hand shot to your throat, pinning your head to the ground with a harsh thump. No. You weren't allowing them anymore of you or your blood. With an ignited spark of strength; your leg bolted to his stomach, but it only worked for a second before he straddled your hips. You shrieked.

Jungwon crossed his arms, indifferent, as if it was all a routine. Jake grunted when your cuffed hands flailed in desperation, hitting at his face, neck, chest, hands—anywhere you could get him. And your nails dug furiously into skin, creating the clear mark of struggle.

Jake yelled, annoyed, tightening his grip on your neck until your breath stuttered and your panic returned with creased eyes.

“Help me out,” Jake said to Jungwon through your struggles and scratching nails. He obliged like it was a wish, and stood by your head. You shook your head, slapping Jake's arm more aggressively in a pattern of urgent refusal.

“No—”

Jungwon didn't let you croak out anymore more as he clutched your wrists and pressed them down into the grey floor above your head. You shrieked.

Tears lined at your eyes, struggling, but Jungwon was made of cement because your hands stayed there, wriggling with futility. “Get off—!”

Jake removed the hand on your neck to hold your jaw, tilting your head back forcefully and exposing the bandage starting at the side and over the cotton gauze where Sunoo had bitten you. Jake, mesmerised, let his fingers float over your pulse, feeling the rapid fire of panicked beats. You shook your head. Jake tightened his grip. And you shrieked again but they ignored it like it was simply a fly buzzing around. 

You were miniscule to them, the weakest in the food chain. He could crush your throat like glass and he wouldn't care.

Jungwon glanced at your eyes screwed shut in a plea, tears glittering and, gosh, he wanted to taste them. And another scream left you but he wasn't phased. It was your fault after all.

With no mercy, Jake ripped off the bandage tape, revealing the bruised and reddened puncture wounds poisoning your skin. You shivered, the area more sensitive than ever when an ache sparked in throbbing tingles, almost pleading for respite. When Sunoo bit you last time, it was as if he poked your skin with thick needles and pried apart each layer, each receptor, and tore it apart to invade your vessels with hot, white agony.

“D-don't… please, Jake…” you were crying now, voice trembling along with your limbs plastered down like a butterfly in a frame. It must have amused Jake because he smiled ever so slightly, the hostility making home in his eyes.

“Shh. It'll sting if you keep moving like that,” he said softly, as if he wasn't about to drain you like a blood bank. 

“N-no! I swear I'm not hiding anything! Jungwon—”

“Shut up,” he replied, gripping your wrists tighter, making you sob in exasperation. You couldn't even plead your case.

Graceful, Jake lowered his lips, breathing out an exhale like the scent of your blood had given light into his eyes once more. It yanked at his desire, beckoning him closer until he let his lips feather the spot. Your legs fought behind Jake, knees trying to punch his back. It didn't work, and your panic became an anchor dragging you to the deep sea of anxiety. 

His breath was warm, and he was everywhere: tilting your jaw back, lips on your neck, his other hand twirling your messy hair like he wanted to bite that too. You sobbed again, chest weighed down like the roof of your ribs would cave in, eyes blurry.

Nothing stopped him. Whilst you struggled with your wrists again, Jake licked up both puncture wounds, and you let out a sound between a groan and a harrowing sob. Every tickle of air triggered the marked area and you couldn't take the tingles storming your neck.

“Stop—!”

“Jungwon, she tastes good without me even biting,” Jake hummed, relishing in the copper of the dried blood, the scent like daisies to him on a warm, sunny day. Jungwon heard your shriek of disapproval, but he heard Jake, and he grit his jaw, restraining himself from biting the other side of your neck as well. He could, but he didn't know how much of your mind could withhold pain before the foundation collapsed.

He needed you to be compliant, not weak and drunk on anguish. Jake held your jaw tighter, neck fully exposed before the fangs prodded at your skin. You let out a raw scream, the type that skinned your throat until it burned, refusing to go through it again. No care passed through. Jake bit in with a hasty crunch and it was as if he had torn through a net with scissors.

Not even a second went by when your head pounded, neck invaded with agony that felt like lightning striking your whole body. You writhed as if you could escape it but no matter how much you struggled, the pain hailed down your shoulder and cruelly hammered up your skull.

Jake hummed loudly, eyes shut as he fed on your blood like water, no mercy for how he broke through the healing barrier of your neck. Your sobs were constant now, chest heaving with each motion of his lips. But for him, he inhaled it like it was a gift from evil itself, void of poison and oh so sweet.

It felt like you couldn't breathe. Like your throat physically swelled and closed up because of the intrusion of his fangs. Your knuckles turned white, body tensing into knots until you couldn't understand anything but the tides of constant pain drowning you, clogging your eyes, lungs, and mind.

Jake gulped the blood like a prayer, groaning darkly as he felt your breaths quiver, and your body die down into agonised shivers under your skin. At that point, your eyes drifted to close, barely understanding if you were floating or if you had finally lost it.

Jungwon released your wrists. Jake sat up, licking his lips to savour every atom of your blood and grinned. Haphazard, he returned the weak excuse of a bandage to your neck, and observed your slow and careful heartbeat. As if your body was preparing to go into a dream, conserving whatever was left of you.

“Fuck, you need to taste for yourself.” Jake lifted himself off you, and you didn't even get to process it. You just laid there like a corpse on the edge of death, eyes blinking slowly with tears.

“I would, but I think you took my half,” Jungwon said with a shrug, glancing down at you with mockery. Then, he kneeled down, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, hand lingering before he whispered the threat.

“Remember the deal or let yourself become a monster.”

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The next sixteen hours was one, silent blur. You were in a dream where you were back home, back with your father, and moving somewhere with a scarce population and homes. It was just a countryside where a sole hut stood bathing in the sunlight. In that dream, you took in the world outside, the forest, crops, and you thought it was over. But then, your dream self touched your neck and pain exploded there until you collapsed to your knees, chest heaving breathlessly as agony climbed up your skull like a thick tide.

Pain swelled in your throat, and someone was shaking you. Your father, perhaps, but when it was deeper, more demanding, your eyes snapped open to the blurry ceiling.

A slight gasp choked past your lips, sweat glistening on the crown of your head and neck. And above you, Riki. He was holding a bottle of water and some leftover fruits. How could you eat when you had recovered the past week in one, mortifying dream? Not only that—but you had been bitten again.

He had crossed a boundary and didn't mind violating your skin like it was another reward or prize he wanted to sink his fangs into. And he did so without an inch of remorse. All you could remember was how close it felt to dying and he was proud of it because he was the one that let you tip near the edge of life.

“Can you hear me or are you just in a goldfish brain right now?” Riki's voice came through, derisive. Ignoring the jab, you gathered every piece of yourself to roll onto your side and lean on your elbow. There was no respite as the bite mark now radiated pure agony in pulsing waves, up to your temple, and swarming you with it.

Riki was still crouching but placed them down, allowing you to move at the pace of a tortoise. Eating didn't bring relief. It took more effort to do so, having to move your jaw, swallow the contents, and your neck protested at the wound. Food had lost all meaning, and you truly felt sick.

After that, you had been taken to the labs like you weren't losing your legs, and it was worse since Jay and Jungwon were both watching over like hawks. Jay had his arms crossed, scarlet gaze cutting into the scientists; Jungwon tucked his hands into his pockets, observing closely as you limped in, holding onto the counter like you had no sense of gravity.

Taehyun gasped, rushing over with Minju who saw the dried blood in the cotton collar of your shirt. You could barely stand and fell into both of them. Jungwon's jaw tightened.

“Oh my gosh…” Minju whispered sadly, embracing you into her. 

Before they could rescue you, his voice rang out like a whip. “Stop.”

Minju held you tighter as you leaned on her. She was so warm, and you honestly didn't want to let go. Everything felt like a mix between cold and scorching. Quite clearly, your body was fraying away into insanity.

Taehyung grew annoyed. “What?”

“It's been three days. Where is the venom?” Jungwon replied, stepping close and almost curling his fists tighter when your blood curled around his nose and hooked him in. 

“It's not ready—”

“Why? This should be your priority,” Jungwon challenged, something caught in his eyes, like he knew something but he couldn't quite figure out exactly what he discovered. You glanced at Namjoon who stood very stiffly by the other counter. According to him, he made the weakest version of the venom, a placebo. So, technically, he did make it, but it wouldn't be unlocking its full potential. Not enough to turn anyone. 

Even with that reassurance planted in your head, panic tingled up your skin like a very slow poison.You held Minju tighter.

“It's not easy to make and purify something in mass within three days,” Taehyun remarked with narrowed eyes that tried to match Jungwon's. Jay scoffed, glancing over at Namjoon, who blinked at the counter and sighed as he began to retrieve something from one of the cabinets. 

You watched as he returned with one vial, something murky and grey sitting within it. You almost cringed.

“If you must have one, then here,” Namjoon said, handing it over to Jungwon. It was the size of his palm, menacing and deciding the fate of the next person.

“Let's test it.”

Jungwon was already walking away but before he did, he tore you out of Minju's grip, making you stumble and panic even more. Your head spun and you had no choice but to clutch onto his arm and let your legs find their own strength. Minju reached out for you but Jay kept her in place. She shrunk away.

Taehyun and Namjoon followed behind, entering the patient room with unspoken questions and queries. The ward was messed up, the curtains thrown and ripped, beds haphazard and no longer at the wall. Inside, a few unconscious police officers were passed out there, some blood or bruises blooming in their skin.

It was horrifying at most. The one place that was supposed to help patients avoid vampirism had turned into a sanctuary for them. An experimenting cage prickling hatred within.

“Give it to one of them,” Jungwon said to you despite the exhaustion sinking into your bones like metal. Taehyun grit his teeth.

“Let me do it,” he snapped at both vampires before snagging the venom out his grip, and approaching one of the bodies. Something protested within you. Probably guilt. It started subtle, like hunger gnawing at your stomach, until it rose to your chest like a wave that urged you to do something. When you tried to tug away from Jungwon, Jay just held your shoulder in a silent, bruising grip, the side with emanating neck pain.

Namjoon and you watched as Taehyun readied the needles, collected it into the syringe only for him to pierce the man's skin and surge the liquid through.

Once Taehyun stood and threw the syringe away, nothing happened. Heck. It was so still that you were sure you heard your own heartbeat asking questions before the landslide of horror crashed into you again.

The man twitched, barely groaned and simply turned his head to the other side as if something tickled him. It felt wrong to feel even a drop of relief that nothing happened, and then when Jungwon turned to you, it vanished.

Frustration and more disbelief coursed through his every feature, and he tightened the hand latched on your upper arm, making you wince.

“What the fuck is this?” He snapped to all three of you. Taehyun and Namjoon both glanced at the man, trying to weave excuses because they knew this would happen. Even you did. But you didn't think Jungwon's impatience would expect something to actually happen.

Silence hummed in the air, uncomfortable and winding. Jay scoffed and nudged you in warning. “Explanation?”

Honestly, how could you say that you purposely made a watered version of the venom so that you could trick them? You would be saying ‘just kill me now and get it over with!’

Too anxious to look at Jungwon, he grit his teeth, sparing a malicious glance to the two scientists before his hand snapped to the back of your neck. Pain and the burning ache thrummed through your neck at the hold, a sound of protest leaving you as he forced your gaze to his. You tried to push his chest, but the weight of his hand on your nape was crushing, and you whimpered.

Taehyun lunged at Jungwon, but was stopped by Jay giving him a shove back at his resistance.

“You're hurting her!”

“She'll survive,” Jungwon muttered, scanning over the apprehension flooding your fluttering eyes, the way your heart skipped several beats until he could practically hear it. He pulled you in closer until there was simply an inch left between you and him. It gave you the chance to once again meet the darkness living in his crimson gaze.

“Intern Song, why isn't that venom working?” He asked darkly, briefly glancing at the fallen officer on the side. What could you say? That you were tricking him? He wouldn't even turn you. He would just kill you.

When you didn't answer, he gripped your nape harder and you had to refrain from screaming at him to let go. Your neck furiously burned.

“I-I don't know. Fuck, let me go—” you tried to push his chest again. He didn't let you.

“What do you mean? Aren't you making the venom?”

“I am! The senior doctors are finalising it. It's not easy to make it from a sample,” you uttered, meeting his killer, crimson gaze with all the innocence and false truths you could, grabbing at all the loose threads. Jungwon grit his teeth, and something soured in them, like death was looming.

Suddenly, he let you go, stepping back slowly and you exhaled deeply, clutching your neck that curled with a throbbing pain. Taehyun held onto your arm gently, the opposite of these vampires.

Silence stilled the air but Jungwon simply walked over to the soldier that had been injected, and stared, like he was calculating something. Then, within an instant, his hand clutched the officer's throat, fingers driving into his throat as his knuckles stained white. Then, a crack.

The man's head clicked back like the very bone meant to hold him there had vanished into thin air, stolen from him.

You didn't know how to breathe, the alarm silently invading your brain but you remained incredibly still. He had killed him. And for what? You knew why. To prove a point that he held the control, he held the blade for it and he would use it. All these people were collateral damage and he didn't care.

Stumbling into Taehyun, your heartbeat raced like it was working hard to just ignore the body, to erase and bleach the memory until it wasn't there. Except, you couldn't forget. And Jungwon knew it. It was impossible to scrub away the death stitched into your mind.

Jay didn't even flinch as Jungwon straightened like that death gave him a red carpet of power.

“For every failed venom, I'll just kill them. Then, the blood will be on your hands,” Jungwon declared as he walked to you and the other two boys. Although your own weight was heavy enough, you felt Taehyun and Namjoon's. Tension bolted in your shoulders until the guilt and hopelessness cut into you like a dagger, even though he was responsible for handling the hilt.

You didn't look at him. You looked at the man with a monstrous bruise on his abandoned neck. Another life left as scraps for death.

“Understand?” Jungwon asked tersely. Somewhere in between the conflict of your hope and guilt, you nodded once, wishing it was all a surreal dream.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The rest of the night was silent but heavy. As if that confrontation had hit everyone, the intensity of the vampires constricting everyone into wordless compliance. You hated it. For the rest of the evening, your lips stayed shut.

Even when Minju replaced the bandage and gauze on your tender neck, thoughts weighed in your eyes with all possibilities of how this could fail. Or if it had failed already and this was your life to accept when you confronted it.

When you were back in your room, Jay left you, and that's when you took the chance to sneak back to the bathroom, practically stumbling into the pristine room. When you crouched by the sink, you got your phone from behind it, unlocking it with shaky breaths and determination on a tightrope.

Entering the three numbers into the messages app, you managed to connect to the police. The automated message was annoying at first, but once figuring it out, you saw the dancing dots.

[“What seems to be the emergency?”]

This will work. It will. They haven't found the phone and you planned to keep it like that. You began typing, the anticipation bubbling up your chest and stinging at your throat. You felt sick from this whole thing. Despite it all, you texted the number that you snuck a phone in and there were scientists being held here, forced to accept their demands in creating venom.

[“They are planning to ambush any other officers coming and turn them. The ground is off limits”] You texted, hands trembling slightly, sleep pulling on your eyelids.

[“Is there a place where the scientists can go to be rescued?”] The message said.

When you really thought about it, the only place you could think of was the rooftop. Often abandoned during the cold times, it was the perfect place for everyone to wait and gather for an escape. Also, you know the vampires didn't know about it either. From what you know, the bitten ones had all their attention on the ground floor, and that's all you needed to type.

Once explaining your situation, you had sat there for twenty minutes, setting out the details of the plan, the exact steps of the route heading to rescue, allowing even the smallest drop of hope to soothe your heart.

The plan was to first wait for the officers to attack first, leading them away from the scientists and allowing you to inject the vampires with the antivenom when they least expected it. When the officers do fully barge into the building, the officers could have an advantage over their weakened bodies, possibly caging them once more. After that, you and the other scientists would get out first whilst the officers dealt with them, the roof being the place where a helicopter would whirr in like the light at the end of the tunnel. The bitten ones would be at the bottom ground, and if they didn't know how to control their lust for blood and see through it, then it would be dangerous for everyone else.

You and the scientists would get out and return with an antidote for the poisoned people and happily ever after.

Hopefully.

[“When are you certain the antivenom will be made?”]

Biting your lip and remembering the process, you took a deep breath, dispersing the cement pressing at your ribs and typed.

[“3 days TOP”]

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

“Is it just me or is it suspiciously quiet tonight?” Sunoo asked, wiping the blood from his mouth that he had fed on from one of the officers that had died yesterday.

The ground floor was practically a blood haven with all the death lying around the corridors, bodies lifeless but useful as a food source.

Heeseung fiddled with his black mask, his eyes crimson and brooding, as if there was a cloud of thoughts appearing and then disappearing like an illusion. “Maybe they gave up.”

“No. I can't hear any sirens. Not even from a distant,” Jay said, narrowing his gaze out the window, watching the night sky as if it had eyes in the stars. Even then, an intense flow of thoughts rushed through his ears. While the silence simmered, Sunghoon shrugged, legs alleviated on a random desk cluttered with papers and files.

“Do you want to hear sirens?”

Jay scoffed and snapped his eyes to Sunghoon. “You know what I mean. It's strange.”

“Jay hyung has a point. Usually, the stupid sirens circle the area before leaving, but tonight… nothing,” Riki said, eyebrows raised, hands making a flat gesture across the air.

“Do you think they have a new strategy?” Jake chimed, arms crossed with a stony contemplation hardening in his eyes. Everyone stayed silent before Jungwon stood from a chair, catching all of their eyes like mice following the leader.

“They have no information on who is alive in the building. They can't have a new strategy if innocent civilians are known to be trapped,” Jungwon began saying, drawing out his thoughts in words. “Unless they know something, which is impossible because not a single person has escaped.”

Sunoo perked up, sudden realisation flashing through him. “So, what you're saying is—”

“The officers don't have a strategy, but someone does.” Jungwon finished off and everyone tensed, as if waiting for him to drop the bomb on them.

Sunghoon hummed. “That intern. Y/n.”

“Gosh, she's fucking persistent,” Heeseung muttered, the sound of your name almost grating on his nerves like a sharp knife.

“It's like she is waiting for something,” Jake suggested from his gut feeling. Jungwon nodded.

“I don't know what strategy she has, but if we're going to build our own army and spread our legacy, our venom, then we need to be ready. We can't let her outsmart us. She needs to know her place,” Jungwon declared, looking each of them in the eye as the same idea turned and twisted in their gazes, darkening into something violent. Something akin to a promise.

Riki smirked. “What is on your mind, hyung?”

Jungwon leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.

“Listen closely.”

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

“Why are they targeting you?”

Taehyun was currently standing before you, unwrapping a bandage and some tape to replace the old ones at your bite wound. The lab was filled with the same machinery, the hum of the AC, and some secret conversations.

Jungwon was in the other room, but you knew he could walk into the one you were sitting in and scrutinise. He didn't say much when he escorted you down, and honestly, the anxiety never left your body. Like it knew he wasn't done. That he was simmering deep down, and your body could see through the silence.

“I don't know.” You sighed softly, pulling your hair to the side so he could peel off the old, bloodied one. It stung when he did, your skin tightening with pain and you tensed. Rubbing your shoulder, he shushed you, sympathetic.

“It's going to sting. Sorry.”

“It's fine. But, Tae…”

Taehyun halted slightly, but you gestured for him to come closer. As he did, he masked it with the fact he had to encircle the bandage around your neck.

“I have… a plan. We need that… ‘AVenom’ in two days.” Your gaze met his confused ones.

“Specific,” he replied softly, rolling the path of the bandage once more.

And there, you told him the plan. All of it but with a few code names here and there. When he finished putting the bandage and plaster over your neck, he let out a shaky breath, as if overwhelmed with your ambitious plan, and stepped back.

“Y/n, you sound insane…” he began, making you frown. “... but I trust you. If you say it will work… then fine.”

Then, a small smile graced your lips and made his heart flip. He stepped away, cleaning up the first aid medical kit when Jungwon stood at the doorway, examining your relaxed features and hearing the steady heartbeat. Again. He was suspicious.

That was why when he chained you up in that damn, lonely prison room, he stayed. He tightened the cuffs at your wrist, hand lingering like he wanted to dig up your heartbeat and swallow it for himself. Then, he stood, crossed arms, gaze burning you as if he could melt away whatever lies you had sculpted. 

Unnerving as it was, you stiffly sat there and wondered what he wanted, but also when would he leave? Suppressing the panic from jumping with your heartbeat, you met his gaze, and he tilted his head.

“How is the venom coming along?” He asked too calmly, setting you on edge. Pulling at all the previous fake threads, you spoke.

“The seniors said it's going okay.”

 “I want to test whatever samples you have on the humans. I saw something blue,” he said, demanding it, even. And that made you snap your eyes up at him because those samples you were creating were the antivenom. Not whatever he wanted from you. And those were strictly for the vampires, a death wish in a vial. Jungwon scanned the apprehension brewing in your eyes and uncrossed his arms.

“It's… nearly ready, but not yet.”

“I'm getting impatient, Intern Song. When will it be ready—”

“Gosh, I don't know!”

Jungwon leaned down towards you with a sharp, crimson dart. “Why? Are you not creating it?”

“I am! The team are. Just give it a few days,” you snapped at him.

“I need it now, Y/n. When will it be ready? How many days—?!”

“Two days… just… something like that,” you uttered. The regret flagged up like a flash in an instant, realising how quickly your restraint had cracked at the edges even if it was a little. At that, a silence radiated from him, like all that sharpness had mellowed into something knowing. Your agitation felt suffocating, the type to make you squirm. Jungwon took a menacing step closer, secret realisation flickering into another big flame.

“Okay. Two days…”

“Please leave,” you whispered, eyes fluttering up to him and his stare. It didn't comfort you when the hunger coiled in his gaze, as if it had been there for a while and it had shown itself from the shadows. So subtle but heavy, but enough to press your voice into your own throat.

Your breath hitched in utter anxiety. “Jungwon?”

“You know, I want to believe you. I really do.”

“What are you—”

Jungwon tipped your chin up with a harsh hand, shutting you up. “There is just so much I can hold back. But if you are telling the truth, I won't hurt you too much.”

In an instant, you shoved his hand away from you, horror filling your lungs like cement. He narrowed his gaze.

“Don't. You're not biting me again. You're not fucking biting me—”

“I'm a simple creature, Y/n. I need blood. And patience. And you're giving me none.” Jungwon's hand slipped to your neck, feathering over your jaw in caution. But even then, you repelled yourself from the danger that was his hand. He didn't appreciate it and gripped your jaw again like the first time he had, making your nerves jump.

“You will give me the blood. Remember how I said you exhaust me? I need to be compensated.”

“I can't…” you shook your head, but he was already towering over you, caging you in his shadow and authority. Your body froze and he tilted your head up until you saw nothing but him.

“You talk too much,” he uttered. When you were about to protest again, he said, “Would you rather me bite Taehyun?”

Jungwon almost scowled at the immediate worry crashing all those thoughts in your eyes, and his fangs ached in bitterness. How he wanted to shut up those thoughts from infecting your heartbeat and words. For you to be his.

The silence said a lot.

“Exactly.”

With that, he simply tore the bandage unto threads, letting it fall from your neck and revealing the punctures in your tender skin. You shuddered, facing him in refusal. “Please…”

Ignoring your pretty pleas, his thumb brushed over the bumpy skin, drinking in your anguished whimpers, and dipped his nose there. The smell made him hum. Your heart raced, exploding into that familiar terror that made him crave more. 

You.

“Just to remind you,” he whispered before placing his lips firmly on the same bite marks aching up your skull, and aligned his fangs in anticipation. Gasping sharply, your hand drove forward into his chest, but he simply pushed it down, trapping you between his legs by lifting his knee to the bench beside your thigh.

A sickening shudder whipped down your chest when he pressed a horrifyingly lingering kiss to your already-agonised neck, ignoring your squirming head. You wanted this to end, to escape whatever Hell you were trapped in.

Without a second thought, he cupped your nape and pierced his fangs into your tender skin with an unavoidable and striking hunger. You barely processed it. The pain was first. A bolt of thundering pain pounded down your neck and skull, like a small explosion had broken out again and burned all your nerves. Your shriek became broken, akin to your crumbling strength. You tried to clutch at his shirt but he simply squeezed your hand in warning as he swallowed greedily.

Your body fell limp, the agony blinding your senses as your head lolled back. He lowered you until your body draped along the bench, lips still feeding on your blood, tugging at your skin like needles. Jungwon drank like your blood was made of glass, of something sweet and grown on the finest vineyards to exist. He didn't want to stop.

A plethora of groans and cries left your chapped lips, hands sharply scratching his neck but it didn't even affect him. It was like tickling his skin with feathers. It was only easier for him to pin down your cuffed hands to the cold, metallic bench.

It all burned, the sensation of it aching up the side of your head, down your shoulder, all the way down to your side and getting rid of all your thoughts. Each breath, each inhale and sob ached, as if your ribs would collapse and press into your lungs like bricks.

For him, he didn't care. He drank in your cries, the copper decorating your blood like a present he unwrapped and was consuming. When you whimpered, he pressed the pad of his thumb on the centre of your throat and your heartbeat stuttered ten times, breath caught in your throat as you let out another strangled cry. He smiled darkly and tugged on your blood once more before departing with a derisive lick to your bruised neck.

Your eyes were closed to shut out the pain, but he was still looming over you with pride after he had sent a wealth of shivers to seize your body.

“You did well,” Jungwon murmured, his nose dipping into your cheek to savour you. He glanced down to your exhausted face, eyes closed, lips parted to suck in as much air as you could, and head lolled to the side. Sleep called you, pulling you in with the promise to get rid of the pain, even if for a little bit.

“Sleep.”

As if you had heard him, you fell limp on the bench, falling into the darkness.

Jungwon simply put the bandage back on, fingers feathering over your collarbone, and left with one last, dark glance back.

Then, he was gone. 

Whatever you had planned, he wasn't going to allow it to happen. It would stay a dream that you stupidly curated in your head.

He would make sure of it.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

Two days passed. Yesterday, you could barely hold your head up and ended up sleeping with your head and arm draped across the counter. Today, Jungwon's mark ached like it was locked away behind a thick door, but the bite flickered and spoke agony into your nerves like a whisper. It was another voice orbiting your head, making you want to give into the anxiety.

The thought hit you now. Fighting against Jungwon and the vampires was like you fighting people with armour without having any protection yourself.

All that apprehension finally gave light to the doubtful thoughts resurfacing like thick ice in the water. You were fighting against vampires. Supernatural beings that had witnessed more things than one, and killed too. No physical armour could be of use.

Their strength easily outweighed you and the team, there was no point denying that. So, fighting them with bare hands wasn't a path to go down. But outsmarting them was not a bad idea at all if you just conjured the correct type without their suspicions.

A plan but dangerous nonetheless.

Tonight, Namjoon and the others made fourteen antivenoms, the dark blue in vials, ready to be silent killers. You hope. 

If this failed, then all your confidence would crumble into rubble. The thought sent an uneasy shudder to your heart, or it was because of your pulsing neck. It complained every hour.

Currently, the clock struck six PM, the day morphing away into the dark, evening sky, the labs silent with a few murmurs here and there. In the other room, Sunoo and Jungwon were silent. Eerily silent. But you blamed it on your nerves trying to find an excuse to be anxious about everything.

“Okay…” Soobin gathered everyone into a little circle. He held up the rack with the fourteen vials. “Each of us takes two. Once the officers cause the distraction downstairs, at least half of them will go down. Sunoo and Jungwon will stay with us, but they will be our first targets before moving onto the next ones.”

Everyone nodded. You, Taehyun, Soobin, Chaewon, Minju, Seokjin, and Namjoon took two. The extra vial stayed in your pocket. For now, you and Taehyun would go.

“If you can't hold your head up, let me do it,” Taehyun protested as he walked with you through the lab, obviously glancing at your bruised neck.

“No… I'm fine.” You smiled a little, stopping when you heard the sirens loud and clear downstairs. It blanketed the building and acted as the signal to put the plan into motion. Glancing back to Taehyun, you gave a nod, to which he returned it with newfound strength and faith in the plan, in you.

The group nodded you and him off, and there you went into the next room. 

Jungwon and Sunoo weren't there, so you led the way to the halls, abandoned and quiet. The lights blinked above, death scenting the floors. Peeking out, there was another empty hallway. 

“Do you think they went downstairs to deal with the distraction?” You whispered, stepping into said hallway with a perplexed Taehyun. You brought out the syringe, loading the liquid into the capped injection.

“Possibly. But I don't want to split up,” he replied with desperate eyes and worry. Worry for you and your bruised neck. As much as you appreciated the concern, the adrenaline pretty much tucked your anxiety away into a small pocket in your brain.

“We have to. It'll be quicker,” you said, already walking towards the main corridor. With no choice, he followed you to the hallway with different, winding hallways and the stairs. Once at the railings, you nodded to him.

“Good luck.” You blinked at him. Taehyun pursed his lips, as if preparing himself, and nodded.

“You too.”

He went left, you went right, going down the stairs slowly. The lights were off down here, the dim emergency lights barely lighting the ceiling. It freaked you out but gosh, you couldn't afford the nerves right now. Not when this is what you have had three bites for. For your mother, too. Her work, her life—they were worth fighting for, even if her voice ceased to exist.

Taking a deep breath, you faced the darkened hallway head on, the sirens wailing nearby like an endless knell, as if they knew tonight was final, an end.

You walked. Your shoes barely made a sound, sticking to the wall as a guide to help yourself, anxiety leaking like rain through a roof you thought would protect you. The walls ran with violent shadows, swallowing the walls as you walked on. Upon the next door, you peeked into the glass.

Red and blue lights blared through the windows, the next hallway empty. Good enough. They must be gathered somewhere near the entrance. You have to at least find one of the vampires. 

Hauling the door open, you slowly walked among the alarming lights, each one coiling your chest into tight anticipation. It stretched beyond your stomach, curling around your gut. At the next one, you peeked around the broken hinges to see a figure, back to you, dark hair and similar clothing to Heeseung. He wasn't looking at you, but his masked face was directed towards the next winding hallway, almost monitoring.

Anger twisted in your chest at the sight of him—no, the mere thought of the vampires binded you with a rushing, wild rage set to destroy them. They barged into your life, surrounding you with so much death, that it almost felt normal. You suppose it's normal for them to hold hands with death and let it take away their leftovers.

Gripping the syringe even more, you stepped into the same hallway, eyes focused like he had a target drawn on his back. Everything else faded away as Heeseung became the focal point, all your accumulated frustration ready to hit him like an arrow.

He didn't turn when you approached with a small distance between you and him. You didn't care.

Taking off the cap, you stabbed his nape with the antivenom, injecting it swiftly as he groaned, falling forward and making his mask fall to the floor. He groaned again, but it didn't sound like Heeseung. In fact, this dude had shorter hair, black veins protruding his skin like it didn't belong there.

Cold horror crept up your chest, each one digging into your lungs. When you turned the dude around with a shove, it wasn't Heeseung. 

It was a random man, probably a bitten officer, and he looked horrified, confused. 

Bewildered, you stepped back. None of the officers were supposed to be injected and you did just that. He groaned, eyes shutting as he crumbled to his knees, clutching his neck. 

“N-no, oh no, you're not one o-of them—”

“No, he isn't, is he?” Heeseung said behind you, and when you whipped your head around, there he was, looming over you with murderous intent swarming his scarlet eyes.

Before you could react, he slammed you back against the wall, fingers wrapped around your throat, right on your bite mark. You let out a choked scream, hands clawing at him and his wrist. It wasn't enough to leave you without air, but enough to express the power over you. That he knew your life was a petal he could crush in his palm.

Heeseung leaned in, a ghost of a smirk on his face, mocking you. “You think you were smart, didn't you?”

You struggled, nails digging into his very hand that was around your throat, but you met his gaze head on. A brief flicker down to your frantic fingers, and he scoffed, tightening his grip, the anger now polluting his gaze.

“Maybe if you follow orders, it will be easier for Jungwon to turn you.” He let his fangs glint, and your heartbeat stuttered when he leaned into your cheek. 

You had to think. But all you could think was run. Just run. Escape.

As he leaned in, your knee shot up into his groin and he doubled over, grunting in pain. You took the chance to shove him off and ran down the darkened hallway. A snarl escaped him as he swiftly followed, your figure reaching the other set of double doors, bursting through them like there was safety on the other side. Your stamina dried a little. This wasn't a part of the plan. And that scared you.

 The next hallway had some weary officers, hunched and hollow at the end of it, and when they saw Heeseung chase after you, it was like an invisible command.

They staggered towards you.

Panic swept at your feet like a tide, and you had to force your legs to function as you took a sharp left into a random room, pushing the door. It was a random office, desks abandoned with papers and notes. Your heartbeat slammed as Heeseung and those two officers stormed in, and you grabbed the spinning chair, and launched it towards him. 

It hit him square in the stomach, nearly tumbling over. A small success, and you set off again down the mazes of desks and cubicles, running off to the other exit. You practically felt Heeseung's frustration and rage radiate into you like it was a physical thing. As if you were about to be hit with a tsunami.

No time. You opened up the door, breathless, and you rushed into the next room, some type of meeting room, but quickly maneuvered your way to the other side, hauling the door open.

The hallway on your left had more people, some of them in chaos and you had no idea if it was a safe choice to go down that way. If you went right, you could go back and find Taehyun and get to the rooftop. Except, where were the others and were they more successful in getting the vampires or not?

Gosh, you hoped so. If this didn't work, you didn't know what fate held for you.

Discreetly, you took the right, getting away from Heeseung and whatever mayhem was down there. You ignored the ache in your neck, ignored your shaky feet, and slammed it down the corridor and through the darkness. You were breathless when you reached the stairs only to see a figure standing there in the light.

At first, his features weren't discernable. He was taller, short hair, and when he turned, that wretched bat with barbed wire was there in his hold. 

Riki. 

Your breath stuttered, and you took a step back, feeling your composure crumble. 

He didn't let you.

Riki lunged down the stairs, striking the bat near your torso. It hit the wall instead but you felt the air of it hitting you, enough to shake your heart. He smirked.

“Nice try,” he muttered before he raised the bat again to its peak and brought it down. With a choked yellow, you threw yourself to the side, bumping into the stairwell, and heard the sickening thud against the wall. He rolled his neck, darkness bleeding into his gaze and into that damn smirk.

That wasn't good. You ran. Not up the stairs, but down the other hallway that cowered in the shadows. Riki let out a scoff and followed, legs taking longer strides to get to you.

You ran, pushing yourself harder as you reached another set of double doors, thoughts colliding, burning.

His heavy footsteps sounded like the gait of a puma, hunting you down. You tried not to become disheartened, but you felt the plan sinking into the deepest depths, somewhere away from you.

As you reached it, the door opened before you could and you couldn't stop yourself as you slammed into Sunghoon, his tall self lurking with coldness, scarlet eyes locking onto yours.

Panic strung into a tight, hasty knot, making it so hard to breathe and process. Then, a crack to your ribs stumbled you off your feet, forcing you to the wall as pain exploded into a slow, jagged burn. You cried out, breaths hitching as Riki retracted the barbed bat, a malignant smile gracing his lips. Sunghoon gracefully joined and both of them hovered over you like a storm contained in dark, gloomy clouds.

They didn't wear their masks.

This was their plan. To trick you and the others into chasing your own tails and humiliating you. You shakily breathed, eyes shifting between the two.

You were fucked. So inevitably fucked.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

“Look who decided to join in.” Jungwon grinned mockingly as he held the dormant chainsaw, observing how Sunghoon shoved you into the lab tables until you trembled and bit your lip to contain your groan.

Sunghoon and Riki had easily crushed your plan. When you tried to fight them off, Riki simply raised his bat like a quiet threat, and there was no choice but to follow. And now, your heart dropped as everyone was gathered with faces displaying the epitome of fear.

They failed. 

Taehyun had a large bruise on his jaw, so did Seokjin. The same anxiety pressed into your ribs, and you wanted to sink to the floor and scream.

Jungwon slammed the chainsaw down in front of you, smiling when he saw you flinch. No, he wasn't happy. He was pleased about the useless plan, that it collapsed on its legs before it could even run.

Stepping back, he simply followed with an unmoving smirk that sent your stomach prickling with thorns. “I-I can explain—”

“Good. Then… maybe, I can consider whether to go easy on you or not,” he cut you off, stepping towards you once more as you backed into the other set of counters with panic fluttering in your heartbeat. All seven of them were here, blending with the shadows. No… they were the shadows.

And Jungwon was the largest one with scarlet death making home in his eyes. 

“I-I…”

What even was there to explain? At face value, no fabric of excuse could be stitched, no matter how colourful you made it or how many sequins you adorned it with, there was nothing to lie about. Jungwon just wanted you to state your failure out loud in a power play where he was coming out on top. To shove that humiliation right back at you. It was your fault. All of it. You had the bizarre plan, gave it rusty wheels and it all crashed.

Trembling, you felt Jungwon step closer, his shoes coming into view, trapping you in his oppressive bubble. He leaned in wickedly. “Speechless, right?”

When you didn't reply, he turned to Sunoo who was scanning his hacksaw for any meagre dust over the metal thorns, but when they met eyes, he got the message. You watched in bewilderment as he moved to the scientists, almost slower than necessary, like he was taunting them with false kindness. In a panic, you went to step forward but Jungwon's arm shot out, a steel bar against your torso.

“No. You've done enough, Intern,” he said too calmly, setting your composure on fire. You clawed at his arm, fighting to lower it.

“Don't—”

In a snap, Jungwon gripped your nape with a sharp and silent remark, turning your head so that you had nowhere to look but the warning written within. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering with apprehension.

“I said, no. Do you understand what that means, Y/n?” He tilted his head, almost challenging you. This time, you didn't speak.

Sunoo took that chance and approached Soobin despite him being taller. Terror prickled Soobin as he took a trembling step back, almost confused at the same time. It didn't distract the vampire as he dragged the hacksaw along the counter tops. The group parted and repelled until Soobin stood there, sole.

This can't be happening. This was your fault. All of it. You were the stupid one that forged the plan, not Soobin. Not any of them. The guilt came quick, like bile before you could stop it, and you struggled again, refusing to let this pass. You can't be the one watching again. The grip on your nape became crushing until the wound on your neck thundered with the familiar prickles and warning. Jungwon didn't care, and kept you staring.

With a chilling smile, Sunoo glimpsed Jungwon for some type of verbal message and then gazed at Soobin with bloodlust, like he was already deciphering what his blood would taste like. 

“W-wait—” Soobin tried to say but Sunoo moved like the wind. One second, he was standing a few feet away, and in the next, flesh was torn and Soobin clutched his bleeding neck, a choked scream falling from his parted lips. Everyone staggered back in shock, and you froze, eyes wide and frozen as he crumbled to his knees, gurgling in pain. With a morbid thud, he laid on his face, blood pooling the floor as the life floated from his body.

It pulled you away, and suddenly, you were staring at your mother, falling into death just like that. No one said a word.

And then, you let out a shaky breath, snapping your gaze to Jungwon in rage. You pushed at his chest, hopeless. “He didn't do anything! It was me!”

“I know it was you,” Jungwon scoffed, letting go of your nape to catch your frantic hands to his chest. “You're not off the hook either. But, hurting you isn't enough.”

The other six snickered behind him. Sunoo wiped the hacksaw with his sleeve with precision, pleased with himself. “Please let me have one more.”

Jay scoffed, wrapping the chain of his bludgeon around his knuckles like a prize. “Sunoo, you're growing spoiled.”

“Not true,” Sunoo remarked, glaring at the elder one that simply sauntered over, randomly letting his eyes glaze over Chaewon. She stood frozen, practically rooted to the ground from terror and disbelief. You couldn't let this happen.

Yanking aggressively on Jungwon's grip, you desperately faced him again. “Tell him to stop!”

A look of mock contemplation flashed over his eyes and then twisted into a black hole of pure evil and shadows. He liked sucking all that hopeful light out of you. Just to taunt you, he leaned down to meet your restless eyes.

“Why should I? I mean, you're not one for listening either. So why should I do the same?”

“This was all me! It was all me!” You yelled at him, slamming your trapped fists against him as Jay approached Chaewon, cocking the spiky weapon side-to-side, testing how much death he could inflict in one go. 

It was no use. When Chaewon tried to run, Jay struck the bludgeon right into the base of her skull, the crack so dull but clear that it felt like a crevice had been ruptured right within your sternum. It felt like metal and stone. Like steel had split you in half. Your breath fell short.

A scream tore from her throat, body hitting the floor. The others stood in an icy sea of fear, unable to move their limbs, afraid that they were next. You struggled even more and Jungwon tightened his grasp until it felt like your wrists would snap. A quiet groan left your lips.

“No more of that,” Jungwon said darkly, leaning over you, eyeing your neck as his next goal. A shudder broke through your spine. “As promised…”

Like a preying snake, his hand curled beside your neck, moving your messed hair to the side, revealing the clumsy bandage. “I will turn you. You will become a monster. Just a consequence of your… disobedience.”

“W-wait—” you tried to breathe but his hand then slid and curled around your locks, forcing a breathless cry to escape you. He looked sick of it now. All that playful malice was now hollow. 

“Shut it.” Jungwon tilted his head, eyes straying to your neck, almost sensing the flutters within your neck. Your pulse basically became ragged, unstable, and he was addicted.

Taehyun clenched his fists, breaths heavy with rage and an urge to kill them all. To kill those vampires with his bare hands. It simmered, reaching his hands, and he twitched, unable to hold back. With pure anger, Taehyun lunged at Jungwon, fist swung back only for a metal and barbed bat to smack into his stomach.

Pain sprung in his skin as he doubled over onto his knees, groaning in exasperation. Even then, he met your gaze, searching for any type of hidden plan, but you had raw, unfiltered panic sparking in them. It couldn't end like this.

Jungwon snorted, still holding your locks like they were his but his eyes fixated on the boy on his knees. 

Riki scoffed too, caressing his bat with power. “Bad choice.”

“Horrible, even,” Jungwon added, letting go of you only to swipe his leg into the boy's face with such precision, that he fell onto his side, agony pulsing up his cheek. He was sure there was blood on his tongue. You gasped, cupping your mouth in horror.

It needed to end. You needed to do something. Gosh, any type of exit, you needed it. Somehow, you needed to carve something out of a dead end with bare nails. Except all these dead ends had death traps in place. 

It was impossible. You lost.

In all that determination you once harboured, tears arose over your defenses, and you wanted to crumble.

Turning back to your rigid figure against the counter, Jungwon hauled you in by your upper arm, lips elegantly hovering over the bandage. Cringing away, he simply chuckled and it was wrapped in hostility that he wanted you to hear. With his other hand, he peeled off the bandage, almost sighing in satisfaction at the dried blood lingering at your skin.

“You tried…” he whispered, speaking taunts into your ears as you quivered. “But it wasn't enough.”

For a moment, you believed it because you genuinely felt all that hope wither. Right there, you wished to let your mind fade into a numb fade.

Because it was over.

As if he heard your own despondency, he leaned in to seal the promise. Taehyun tried to lift himself but Riki placed a spiteful foot over his sore ribs, making him fall limp again.

Some horrific part of you didn't fight. It gave in under the weight of his violence and your own failure. You were suffocating under the rubble. Jungwon relished it.

Just as his fangs glinted, a sudden explosion rang outside the labs, smoke fogging the air, footsteps and loud voices yelling in routine and commands. The impact of it shook the vampires, some stumbling. Jungwon lurched away from you, snapping his gaze along with the others to the hallway.

Confused yourself, you squinted to see soldiers swarm in through the smoke, yelling orders, guns raised at the vampires, who all spared a knowing glance to each other.

Jungwon clicked his tongue, but it was absent of amusement. The other vampires shifted and that stillness collapsed within a second. Bullets went flying, the vampires began their dance of defence and you threw yourself next to a heaving Taehyun clutching his aching ribs on the floor.

“You plan this?” He sputtered breathlessly.

“No.” You shook your head, helping him crawl to where the other scientists ducked behind the counters. Blood quickly stained the air, screams tore through the lab.

It took everything in you not to turn and look at Chaewon and Soobin bathed in their own blood. Instead, you faced the others. “W-we need to get to the roof.”

Namjoon gulped hard, taking charge as he pointed to the exit on the far side of the room. The emergency exit glowed a hopeful and guiding green, making everyone stumble over their knees in a frenzy.

You went last. It may be because you created the plan, the one that just failed. To make up for the loss, you needed to make sure that everyone made it out of this icy ocean without drowning anymore. That blunt determination sharpened into a blade, ready to carve out another escape.

Just as you followed, an armoured soldier collided onto the floor beside you, gun clattering away as you flinched. Jay stormed over, clutching the man in the throat and you didn't look. The crack was enough to know what fate he had met. Frantic, you hoisted yourself up by the wall only for a sharp grasp to dig into your calf like a trap meant for you.

You cried out as Jay tugged you back and sent you stumbling to your knees. Those crimson eyes glowed with a new, wildfire of anger, and your heartbeat slammed so hard, that your ribs barely held it in.

The gun laid there among the chaos, and you saw the chance woven in it. With a hasty swipe, and with zero knowledge of how to use one, you flipped onto your back, held the large gun and tried to mimic what you had seen before, and let the bullet fly.

The ricochet was outstanding: it felt like the gun forced you deeper into the cold floor, but it didn't matter now. You shot Jay in the torso, and a muted crimson flowed over his shirt.

Jay growled, limbs trembling in shock and anger, mixing together dangerously. His hands curled over the spot, almost weighed by pain and uncertainty.

There was no time to dwell. You lifted yourself with the gun and ran to the exit where Namjoon was holding the door open with urgency.

“Let's go!” He yelled as he slammed the door shut behind you. Together, you ran down the hallway to the stairwell where the others had already travelled up a few flights, footsteps chaotic and hurried.

You took the first few steps, and then, the familiar metallic roar crushed the sounds of gunshots, as if it was declaring its new quest to satisfy its hunger. You didn't need to look back to know that Jungwon was mad and now, only death awaited you.

The door below smashed open, and four pairs of footsteps marched up the stairs.

“Get her the fuck back to me!” Jungwon barked at them over the screech of his weapon before he took the stairs two at a time. From below, he saw you rushing up with that other man, and he snapped.

He moved like a shadow, so smooth and effortlessly, that you didn't even know when he was inches behind with Sunoo, Heeseung, and Sunghoon, rage spiralling in him like a blitz of bombs.

You pushed yourself, climbing for dear life when Jungwon smashed the moving blade where your foot was supposed to be, but you saved yourself by a few centimetres, torso tumbling onto the stairs with a grunt from the sheer terror weighing your chest like iron.

Shit. Too close. Way too close.

“Once you're mine, I'll torture you with the same monstrosity you fear” Jungwon declared as you stumbled up. He swung the chainsaw back, readying another blow.

In that moment, everything flashed before your eyes, your chest felt shot with an invisible blade of fear as Jungwon began to swing it down again. You should've moved. But adrenaline wasn't on your side in the slightest.

Before he could make contact, Namjoon yelled, and hurled his body atop Jungwon until it was a blend of bodies falling down the sharp edges of the stairs. Jungwon briefly dropped his chainsaw. The other vampires stared in brief alarm, but the violence bled in once more as they stiffened.

“Dr. Kim!” You yelled but he shook his head through his pained groans, trying to lift his torso. He met your gaze for whatever short moment, letting you know with that silent but soft gaze that he believed in you. But he wasn't going to be there with you. Your breaths were shaky, another deep crevice rupturing your hope, but you had to do this.

For him. For everyone.

You ran up the stairs again, gun lodged between your hip and arm, lungs contracting sharply as if it would give way to your panic. A pained yell ached from the floor you left Namjoon on, and you had to bury it all down.

Then, the inevitable sound of mechanical whirring and fluttering metal wings caught back all that optimism in a net. The sound nearly popped your eardrums, suffusing into your brain like a signal you were desperate to reach. Ignoring the anxiety, you climbed the stairs, towards the rooftop.

Along with the helicopter, Jungwon's weapon roared closer again, and you internally groaned. He was crazily persistent. Damn him and his vampire tendencies. His stamina was damn well strong as a stone wall.

“Y/n!” He bellowed again from below, slithering up the steps with Sunghoon, steps thumping violently. It only fueled your steps as you ignored the fatigue sinking into your legs, and climbed the stairs.

Suddenly, Sunghoon took three at a time and yanked the back of your shirt, making you cry out again. With a sharp twist, you struck the gun to his face with force, watching him grunt loudly and lose his step on the stairs. Sunghoon fell with the gun, limbs fighting the pain as he tried to lift himself once hitting the last one, limbs slightly trembling.

It didn't matter anymore because Jungwon was his follow up, and that was enough to charge your sprint up the stairs. 

The rooftop was so close, so damn close—

A hand clamped down on your ankle and you cried out again to see Jungwon being responsible with his chainsaw in the other. Both you and him were panting slightly, gaze meeting in an icy battle of wills.

“You're not getting away,” he uttered so darkly, the shadows now tainting his tongue. Swallowing hard, you tried to tug back your leg but his hand was a chain. Anxiety plunged into your stomach.

“Even if I don't… the others will.” You met his gaze again, voice breathy with exhaustion, sweat arising on the crown of your head. The chainsaw came to a stop for a moment, hand still hovering by the switch.

“Such confidence…” he purred, deepening his gaze to yours. But to you, it wasn't just confidence. After thinking about this in your mini marathon up the stairs, you were glad that the others were up there, safe in the skies rather than in the bloodshed down here. It wasn't just confidence, but also courage. Something that didn't break despite all the hits and literal bites. So, this asshole wasn't going to stop you now.

“I'm glad you admit it.” You launched your right foot at his throat, relishing in the agonised grunt as he fell and tumbled down the stairs again, chainsaw fumbling down in a rocky manner. Wasting no time, you lifted yourself before Jungwon could get up.

But then what? It would only be a matter of time before he got onto the roof and made sure he saw the end of his plan. In your pocket, you felt the jostle of the antivenom safely enclosed in the syringe as you ran. All your thoughts worked overtime, entangling into a huge web of thoughts.

Jungwon was too strong to overpower, let alone injecting him in the neck. As you reached the doorway to the rooftop, the whirr of the helicopter washed over you in frequent waves. Safety was there.

Shaky, you took out the syringe of blue, staring in contemplation, in conflict. He always managed to predict your moves. This time, you're going to outsmart him.

No matter what.

Footsteps approached again. Jungwon was done. His patience had run dry. There was nothing there to ease the igniting rage sparking inside him and setting his nerves alight.

He had to admire your endless attempts at beating him but alas, he was faster, smarter, and undeniably built for the hunt. You just happened to be the most challenging. 

The chainsaw was a hassle. He left it and flew up the remaining steps to see you at the doorway, breathless and thinking. When you heard his footsteps, you staggered outside, wind carding through your hair, the helicopter's light shining down randomly. And whilst the first one went away, the second remained with Taehyun helping Moka up.

You had to distract Jungwon long enough for Taehyun to go on the clumsy ladder too.

So, with a quivering breath, you turned only for him to backhand you so hard that your knees lost balance to the ground. Groaning, you touched your cheek, and met the evil shadowing over you. Jungwon, in all the mess, stood there with blonde locks swaying wildly in the wind, eyes a crimson river of stolen blood, and a frown lingering in anger.

Even then, you told yourself this was going to plan. Maybe, you're not so scared anymore.

“You know…” he began above the mechanical flutters, lowering his knees to either side of you. “You have agitated me. A lot.”

Trying to crawl away, he stopped you with a harsh hand handling your jaw, pinning you back onto the roof ground. It was tight, and you had to fight all your anxiety bubbling in your blood. Your shaky hands enclosed his wrist but it didn't stop him.

“But, I have to admire your spirit,” he uttered, leaning over you like a menacing storm brewing in the sky. He smirked a little, tightening the grip on your throat until your pulse rampaged in alarm, eyes shutting in a way to cope.

“I have never met a human like you. So… persistent, so eager to win over me,” he said with a breathless chuckle, as if he couldn't believe he could be bested by someone so human. Your body twitched in alarm and the lack of air.

“But guess what?” Jungwon released your neck, making you gasp for air, chest heaving only for his lips to personally graze your ear. “You can't win. You can't avoid me. And now, I will take the greatest pleasure of turning you. As I promised.”

Strangely enough, your struggles faded and mellowed, and Jungwon smirked against your neck. He won. 

Wasting no time, he sunk his fangs in, drinking in the exhausted whimper and the blood for a few seconds, remembering why he was so addicted. It fueled him. Not just the blood—but the power he had proven once again, using it against you and caging you in it. 

Once satisfied with the feed, he let the venom slip into your skin, falling away into your blood like a curse to seize your body before pulling away. Except, it was strange.

Instead of tears, like he had expected, you stared knowingly, as if you had locked something away from him. It was unusual. He was never locked away from anything but there you were, limp, but with a gaze of stone.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jungwon met your unyielding gaze. “What is with your stare?”

A breathless chuckle left your lips, almost pained in the deeper layers, but it confused him. 

“Are you… sure y-you still won…?” You croaked but he heard it. That bewildered him even more.

“What?”

With a trembling hand, you had secretly retrieved something from your pocket and held it before him. A syringe. An empty syringe. For the first time, iciness glazed over him and you loved the chill in all that smugness. 

“Do you know… what was in here…?” You uttered through the layers of agony storming in your body. It hurt so much. It did. Your blood felt like fire, every breath was breaking, convulsing in panic when it left your lungs.

“What the fuck did you do—?”

“It was an antivenom.” You faced his rocky gaze, the crimson on them remaining but you saw the scepticism. And maybe a drop of apprehension. Something so foreign on his features but you loved every bit of it. “And I put it in my blood.”

Jungwon screwed his eyes shut for a moment then snapped them open, staring down at your skin losing colour the more the seconds went by, hands fueled with unhinged tremors. You weren't bluffing. In disbelief, he leaned closer.

“You stupid human, you just killed yourself,” he murmured, blinking profusely as if his thoughts were struggling to process that fact. A hard pill to swallow.

At his comment, you forced your eyes open and lifted your lips into a derisive smile, mirroring what he had done to you. “I know. But guess what?”

You lifted your head to pin his incredulous gaze. “You just killed yourself, too.”

Then, Jungwon felt it. A trail of fire igniting in his veins, his throat until he had the urge to claw out his own neck just for a moment of respite, and his limbs were being threaded with fatigue and pain blended into one. As if the antivenom had created a new fabric of him, and this one was terribly weaker.

Doubling over slightly, you took the chance to stare at the helicopter and the lights travelling on the roof, almost imagining yourself on one of them. But if your fate ended here, then so be it. You did what you wanted. You just weren't going to be a part of the new picture.

And that was fine.

As your eyelids fell heavy, a brown blob of hair appeared above you in a hasty second, pushing off Jungwon and instantly hauling you into his arms. 

“—Y/n? Can you hear me?!” Taehyun yelled all while he steadied you on your noodle feet, one of your arms thrown around his nape. He moved forward, panting and you ripped away the exhaustion to spot the limp ladder that hung off the helicopter.

“Climb. Please, climb. You can rest after!” He held your waist and helped you to grip the first bar. 

He was trying to save you. Even after you messed up so many times. You wanted to thank him, but your throat felt like it was drying with just a breath. For now, you took a trembling step up, and Taehyun did so after until he stood with you on the bar below, arms caging you to whatever futile safety he could.

As soon as he shouted up, the helicopter ascended, the mechanical flutters changing tune as you swayed, watching the vehicle approach the edge of the rooftop. 

You never thought you would miss trees, the smell of grass and the polluted night air, but breathing it in with whatever cells were surviving, you didn't want another memory. Shakily breathing, you thought you had reached the air of safety until the ladder aggressively lurched and jostled below.

Letting out a disgruntled sound, you and Taehyun glanced below to see a manic Jungwon, veins black and visible on his neck and jaw, blonde hair a mess and his eyes were arrows that found yours in a perfect target.

“Fuck.” You murmured to no one but yourself. Taehyun had the same exact thought and tensed with you. It didn't stop Jungwon as he fought through every painful grit in his joints and climbed as the helicopter floated above the expanse of forest down below. 

Danger and pure hunger bled into his eyes as he climbed up one more and snagged Taehyun by the foot, tugging. He screamed, catching the attention of the soldiers safely inside the flying vehicle. 

“You can't escape me,” Jungwon snarled, making your eyes meet his and a shiver crossed your spine as you gripped Taehyun. Every kick to Jungwon's hand added to the fire, and he climbed up one more step, gripping yours instead.

It was enough for your knees to buckle and falter and your heart dropped as the forest below became a height striking fear at your heart. You grunted, trying to tug your ankle back but Jungwon's anger washed over him and he pulled until you lost all grip on the ladder. You shrieked and Taehyun's exasperated protest filled the whirring air, and within a tense second, he snatched your wrist with everything he had, even if he bruised you. 

You were dangling.

You couldn't think. Everything was too loud, your neck ached, and your body shook under the effects of the antivenom. Despite all that, you managed to look at Taehyun, vision blurring but with desperation, your other hand weakly holding his.

“Don't… don't let go,” he said, and you groaned quietly when Jungwon tugged your leg again, practically making you sway from Taehyun's hand. One wrong slip and you would fall to your death.

And you didn't want that. Maybe you want to live. To return to your father who was probably drowning with worry and sorrow. Your mother was gone. But you—you couldn't let yourself become lost like her.

The helicopter whirred, radios buzzed but you ignored them and focused on the vampire clawing at your leg. Gathering all the little specks of your strength, you kicked at his hand, scraping your shoes at his knuckles until he grunted.

Another snarl left him at your audacity and he tilted his head back, breathing heavily, obviously fighting the antivenom in his own way. Even then, he met your gaze as you launched your foot again and again at his hand, the wind making it hard to concentrate. When you met his crimson ones, he purposely held it.

“You may have won for now. But, I promise you that I will return. It takes more to kill a vampire,” he said with a promise weaving in his gaze, a present that you never wanted. Despite your disgust, he managed to smirk before a bullet shot through the air and sliced into Jungwon's chest.

The impact sent him jolting, your ankle freed as he let go and the next thing you knew, Jungwon was diving towards the trees and he disappeared into the darkness. 

He was gone. You hoped death had made his body a home to settle its roots into.

Taehyun held you strong, muscles straining as the officers began to haul the ladder in until the wind stopped striking you, and until you tumbled into the helicopter's interior.

All your thoughts intertwined and tangled into knots, something you were unable to decipher. The antivenom was quick to render you a simple trembling body.

Panicked, Taehyun cradled you to his chest, removing the hair from your colourless face. “We've done it… you did it.”

Hearing those words over the silent agony drowning you still sent relief, a quick balm to a crumbling wound. 

The plan actually worked. You couldn't even think past that. And so, with that in mind, you finally gave into the familiar darkness.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

Everything was so still. Soft, even. The rhythmic beeps rung through your ears, head suspended on something plush and you felt light. All that stress? It felt like it had been lifted off you, the anchor had been broken. You were free of it.

The darkness was nice for a while. No vampires, no death, just a void your body floated within and nothing could hurt you here. Except, after a while, you realised that there was more than that.

The last thing you remembered was Taehyun. How he saved you from dying—

You weren't dead. and that was surprising.

Peeling open your eyes, the darkness splintered away to a warm light and tinges of antiseptic pinching your nose. Your breaths felt mechanical, loud and supported.

The room you were in was plain, machines set up with glowing lines aligning with your heartbeat, each exhale fogging up the plastic latched over your mouth and nose, and tubes connecting to a blood supply. Taehyun sat with a hung head, mouth sunk into his knuckles.

You twitched at the familiar sight of the hospital. Not Facility 007. But it was actually somewhere with civilization. The relief bloomed in your chest like a fresh batch of flowers. You were safe. 

At your fluttering eyes, Taehyun pounced onto his feet and to your side, hands hovering like he didn't know what to do with you. It was quite adorable if you thought about it. 

“Gosh, Y/n, you're awake. I'm so glad. I thought you…” he didn't finish that despondent sentence and instead focused on your drooping eyes stitched with fatigue. He didn't care. He just wanted to see the light in your eyes again.

Along with that, he saw the questions simmering in your silence. So, he sat down once he rolled the chair over, wondering where to pick up from. He steepled his fingers. “So… you passed out.”

That was obvious. You quirked an eyebrow and Taehyun sighed before fiddling with the blanket draped over you.

“I thought you didn't have a pulse. But you didn't. The helicopter landed straight at the hospital. And you know, we had to drain both the venom and antivenom out,” he started to say, somewhat stuck in the throes of the memory. It sounded like a nightmare and you felt like a nightmare.

“I mean, some of the venom was probably killed because you had the antivenom neutralising it. But the doctors suggested that whilst they took out the bad blood, they would transfuse blood in,” he added on with a hopeful smile. 

Of course. You were nearly turned but the antivenom put a stop to the effects before it could fully invade your body, but the only problem would be saving your healthy cells. And what better way to do it than pumping the antivenom out before it eradicated everything. Despite all that realisation, the doubt lingered.

What if all the venom wasn't neutralised? What if the antivenom had killed enough cells? You suppose you would have been dead rather than locked to a bed and a breathing mask.

Taehyun sensed the enquiries and pursed his lips in contemplation.

“I know what you're thinking. Considering you're not gone, I think you will be okay. But, the venom? I hope that most of it will be drained. If anything remains, you would know,” he said again, not helping the doubt lessen. Your brows creased slightly.

“Its not the most encouraging thing. So yes, even after this, you may feel… weak from recovery. But also, if you do feel weird, we can just give you a new antivenom,” he said, trying to dull down that buzzing thought.

“They're creating a new one. More effective and safe,” he said softly, easing you into the idea, the possibility that you would have to be injected with the very thing that put you into a hospital bed. But it was also the very thing that had slain Jungwon.

You don't know about the others.

Shifting in his seat, he met your gaze with wide, hopeful eyes. “And, don't worry about the bitten ones. They're also being treated.”

At that, you blinked slowly, trying to relish the information and keep it close to you like a small flicker in the cold. Soobin, Chaewon, and your mother had died. And so many more officers and workers. The least you could do or hear was the fact that others had also been rescued from the vampires, and themselves.

He smiled at the sparkle in your eye. “Your dad is on the way.” Then, his smile faltered in a fleeting moment but you caught it, staring hard until he noticed. Sheepish, he rubbed his nape.

“The vampires. Some were found. Jay, Riki, Jake, and Sunoo were found.” He dropped his gaze solemnly. You didn't like that one bit, and your stomach coiled.

“The other three are missing.”

The other three being Jungwon, Sunghoon and Heeseung. Fuck. Oh gosh. The universe wanted you to suffer. Your body twitched slightly, as if it had a verbal allergic reaction to their names being in the same implication of ‘missing’. Because it meant that Jungwon and his older brothers would probably fight for their way back to power, control. They want that throne and they would take it and, since you fought them, gone against them, they would use you for the ground.

The heart rate monitor picked up and Taehyun gently rubbed your wrist, careful of the tape slapped on it. It was all he could do.

“Hey, hey, don't panic. The antivenom we made? It's going to be mass produced. So, you don't need to worry about the city being in danger. Public places will have them. And, they won't find you,” he said with a lulling tone, soothing you like you knew nothing more than anxiety born in your skin. “You don't need to worry.”

He said that now but what would happen if you had walked upon Jungwon again? Would he stare? Would he just attack?

Since you outsmarted him, he took that as a full offence, a true sign of your unwillingness to be under his words, of your stubbornness. Now, you feel that if they don't catch him soon, he will drag you by the feet and back into the hole of Hell he crawled from in the first place.

The monitor fluttered again, making Taehyun tut. “Y/n. Stop panicking.”

He rubbed your forearm until you took a heavy inhale and melted into the pillows again, wanting your mind constricted from the future worries. He smiled, and that's when the door opened and your father appeared, lines of worry sketched into his skin. Upon seeing you, his shoulders sagged and he rushed over, hand brushing away the hair messy on your head. 

Careful, as if you were glass that had cracks on every corner. You glanced, blinking slowly as you were actually taking him in, your only parent as of now. 

“Gosh, Y/n…” he whispered, broken and solemn. As much as you saw his relief, he was also mourning your mother. He didn't even get to hold her one last time, to even speak to her. You were the only fragment of her he had left.

Simply thinking of her broke down everything you held back. The emotions, the tears released like a damn rotting until it had no choice. Your breaths became shallow, eyes shutting to refrain from the waterworks but it was too late, and the beeps increased.

Your dad stroked back your hair, trapping his own tears away and wiped yours instead. As if it was the only thing he could do for you. Understandably so. You had been gone for a week. You hadn't seen him for a week. It only made it feel more real that you had returned to safety, to humanity. That maybe the venom had been drained away and never to be seen again.

All you could do was lay there and take the silence as a friend rather than a space that would simmer with anticipation. With an unknown promise of violence.

You were okay.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

TWO MONTHS.

Two months passed since you were in the hospital, given time for recovery, for your body to be normal and void of any symptoms, for you finally feel like your skin was yours to wear and wasn't tainted with blood.

Of course, the bite marks scarred deeply, two red marks deep in your skin, engraving it with a terrible memory. Hiding it was your only solution. Turtle necks and contour helped.

All the scientists that died in the Facility had a personal and intimate funeral gathering. They were all buried with one another, a reserved space that held a deeper meaning, a memory of people who served science and people. 

Of course, your mother's body was laid in a coffin, but you didn't look at her face once. If the vampires sucked the blood out of her, it would be the last thing you would want to remember. She probably had looked like a shard of herself—cracked and broken into something unrecognisable.

For now, your father moved you from that part of the city and to somewhere more dense, safe, full of people so you could feel whole again. The apartment was small but big enough for you and your father. Three bedrooms, one would be an office, a modest kitchen and a table built into the wall, and a lounge where the wide windows displayed the city's starlight in the night.

He didn't want you to return to a home still lingering with your mother's presence so he physically distanced it. There was no argument there. Not when he was clearly affected by grief and remorse. Protection, too.

Over you.

As for Taehyun, he still lived nearby and his name appeared on your phone more times than you thought it would. And your heart skipped more times than scheduled but you never confronted it. You let it react in secret.

Since the antivenom had been made and distributed, all the credit came to you and the scientists that escaped. It was a little weird to see how indebted the government was to you, but if it meant having some alone time with paid money, then you saw no problem.

Besides, if you went back to a lab, you might throw up. Even thinking of the sterile environment shoved you back into a memory where the lights flickered and the blood rose from the ground like vines, and clung to your nose. As if it was a reminder that the vampires had changed your life and they were still out there.

Therapy was helpful. The blood and mental care therapy.

You had weekly sessions but honestly, you had nothing to say when the nightmares kind of faded and tucked itself into the folds of your mind and ached like a constant wound you tried to treat.

Like today. You were quiet again, staring at the windows for half of it. Your therapist, also known as Yunjin, sat there with burning eyes.

“You're quiet. Are you sure you don't want to add anything else? Anything at all?” She asked softly when you didn't look away. As if you had been searching for something. Waiting.

Then, you shook your head. “No. Is the session over?”

She gave a tight smile and nodded. “Of course. You can go. I'll see you next week, Y/n.”

The city was a gentle thrum of conversation, snow raining down and pecking your skin with a cold pinch. The evening sky was lit by fairy lights on random buildings and faded when you got into the apartment complex. 

Shaking off your nerves, the elevator opened and soon, you were inside your new home where the kitchen thrived with activity and something akin to… tomato?

The door shutting behind you alerted your father as he shuffled out and smiled in relief.

“You're here. Finally. How was the session?” He asked as you took your coat off and hung it on the hook.

“Good. Normal.” You hummed, shrugging at him as you flipped your winter boots off. Then, you kissed his cheek. “Cooking?”

“Of course. No more fast food,” he said with a teasing smile that warmed your heart all the same. Returning the gratitude, you padded past him to your bedroom.

“I'll wash up.”

“Okay,” he called back. Entering your bedroom, you shut the door again and climbed onto your bed, to the window. You should wash up. Really.

But your heart tugged towards the window, as if it knew something you didn't. You couldn't even find the reason, the ends of the ribbon to unwrap whatever your body was finding. 

Scanning over the rooftops, you sighed and dragged your hands down your face. Why couldn't you relax?

You suppose you should say that to Yunjin and let her dissect it with you, but something was sunk deep in your uncertainty. It wasn't exactly a feeling. Just words.

Jungwon's promise. His vow before he fell to the forest two months ago.

“You can't escape me.”

“You may have won for now. But, I promise you that I will return. It takes more to kill a vampire.”

He was so sure for someone that had consumed the antivenom. It annoyed you to no end.

But each time you had a feeling of doubt, your therapist told you to feel the environment, the warmth, and to ground yourself to where you actually were. You had to force your mind to move out the memory, no matter how frozen it felt, and tackle it back into your bedroom, to the present.

You closed your eyes, clenched your shirt and breathed. Then, you opened them, as if your heart could actually breathe and then, you glanced out the window to remind yourself you're in a new home, new starlight.

The lights were tiny, blinking, and the rooftops were dark and absent with people.

Except one.

There was a figure in the distance, the silhouette still and you couldn't tell if he was facing forward or backwards. From the build and short hair, it looked like a man. And he stood there without layers.

Squinting to get a better look past the lace curtains, the dude turned and then it pinned you. You froze.

Okay, well there were completely normal explanations for this. Maybe he was looking at the building, maybe he needed fresh air. It is normal.

You didn't look away because something in you pinched at your heart, like it was responding to the stare. The dude didn't look away either, as if he knew your figure was hidden by the flimsy netting.

Then, you saw the crimson tinge and it was gone within a second before you flinched away, breaking out of it. Just like that, your mind planted itself back in the same memory of the labs, of Jungwon. Breathless, you got off the bed, plopping onto the floor with a heaving chest, panic seizing your ribs like it personally was thwacking you with bricks. 

Blood. The chainsaw motor.

It blared in your mind. It called to you, as if to remind you that you were still bound to those deaths and series of events. ‘Called’ was gentle. No. The memory of everything forced a stiff weight in your nape, almost like you had to constrict yourself into a small, breathless state.

You hugged yourself, closing into a box until your thoughts simmered down, until your lungs loosened and the knots unfastened to let your lungs breathe.

With a sharp intake of breath, you opened your eyes and the sounds of sizzling returned, the aroma of tomato paste replacing the scent of blood.

The walls of your dull bedroom came into view, and you shakily stood. This time, when you looked at the window, you pulled the curtains shut and didn't move, as if holding them shut without moving would make your quivering gaze strong enough to lock the night skyline away.

Because this was your home. This was safety. Two months ago was a fever dream.

And you weren't there anymore. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing your trousers, chanting your words internally.

You escaped Facility 007.

It didn't exist anymore so neither does your anxiety.

And for some reason, you didn't believe that you left Facility 007 behind. 

Maybe, it followed you.

۶ৎ─── ۶ৎ───۶ৎ─── ۶ৎ───۶ৎ─── ۶ৎ───۶ৎ───

— ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒] : I felt like dying. I am not that satisfied, but I literally felt like if i kept it in my drafts, I might defenestrate myself and my phone lmao! But, hopefully, you guys liked it. idk if you guys want a part 3, or if i want that. But give me ALL your feedback. and i also appreciate the asks and enthusiasm. you guys are so cute <3 but i will probably be working on a diff fic for now. I love this fic but my writing felt stagnant sometimes. Anyway, thank you for reading. Also, I also did not make it a romance just because I dont think she would fall for someone that killed a bunch of people.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ REBLOGS, LIKES+ COMMENTS are appreciated<3

────۶ৎ───

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ [Taglist] : @jun2ki @itsmeshanvi @loverbyfate @sourkiki @codyl-angdon @luvksnn @aoivanilla @immelissaaa @chovero @kettyperdi @ch4c0nnenh4 @tojiworshipper @strxwbloody @fancypeacepersona @yuyxann @riribelle @cakeforwonu @heeshlove @pjselee @yollohblbl

ִֶָ࣪☾. [Permanent taglist] : @kristynaaah

[saudianna]

your op81 fic is so delicious 🥹 could you write something for lewis + full nelson + squirting please?

held like heaven

THANK YOUUU MWAH and omg yes i love full nelson 😡🤬😡

squirting | p in v | full nelson | praise | implied overstimulation | ummm dom lewis | hair pulling | 18+

you weren’t sure how long you’d been at it.

the room smelled like sex — skin-slick and musky, with the echo of your breathy moans still hanging in the air. the sheets were halfway off the bed, your legs spread wide, hair tangled from being pulled. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe properly — not with how deep he was inside you, not with how he kept looking at you like that.

like he owned every inch of you.

lewis hovered over you, lips parted, chest heaving, muscles straining as he slowed his thrusts just enough to draw a desperate, frustrated whine from your throat.

he smirked.

“sensitive already?” he murmured, rolling his hips in a smooth, devastating grind. “thought you said you could handle me tonight.”

“i-i can—” your voice broke as he pulled out nearly all the way, before slamming back in so deep you saw white. “shit—!”

“that’s what i thought.” his hand snaked under your knees, spreading you wider. “don’t tap out now, baby. i’m not done playing.”

you had no idea what he meant—until he suddenly sat back, adjusted his grip under your thighs, and pulled your legs up.

up and out, bent tight toward your chest, until your arms were completely pinned beneath your knees, wrists trapped against your own body. a perfect full nelson — inescapable, exposing everything.

your back lifted slightly off the mattress, entirely at his mercy.

“lewis—” you breathed, your voice cracking from surprise, and maybe a little bit of panic. you’d never been held like this.

he leaned forward, face just inches from yours, sweaty curls brushing your cheek.

“shhh,” he cooed, locking eyes with you through the mirror across from the bed. “look how fucking pretty you are like this. all stretched out for me. legs wide, cunt dripping—” his cock twitched deep inside you, drawing a gasp. “god, you were made to be fucked like this.”

you whimpered, unable to even fight the blush spreading over your cheeks. he had you completely open, completely his, every thrust now sharper, deeper, rougher — hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back.

“eyes on the mirror,” he ordered.

you forced your gaze to focus, jaw slack. the sight made you whimper.

your body was folded tight, flushed and trembling, his thick arms keeping you suspended. the mirror reflected the obscene stretch of your pussy, the way your tits bounced with every thrust, how his cock disappeared into you over and over, slick and raw and punishing.

“see that?” lewis hissed, burying himself inside you so deep your back arched involuntarily. “that’s mine. that’s what you give me. no one else gets to see you like this.”

you could feel it building. pressure. fire. your thighs quivered, your cunt spasming uncontrollably around him.

“lewis— i’m gonna—” you choked out, voice straining, legs twitching in his grip.

“do it,” he growled. “fucking squirt on me. i want it all.”

that’s all it took.

your entire body snapped.

pleasure flooded your nerves like lightning — your cunt clenching, your thighs shaking, and then… wetness. a gush of release that you couldn’t hold back, spraying out around him with a high, gasping cry as you squirted, hard, soaking both of you.

“fuck yes,” lewis groaned, looking down at the mess you made. “that’s it. that’s my fucking girl.”

but he didn’t stop.

not even when your legs went numb.

he kept you in that tight hold, fucking into you with brutal precision, grunting low in your ear as your pussy convulsed again from overstimulation.

“c’mon,” he whispered, dragging his cock out slowly, then plunging back in. “one more. just one more, baby. you can give me that, right?”

you were babbling now, barely coherent, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes from how intense it all felt. but your body answered for you.

the second orgasm crashed over you with no warning — violent, overwhelming, messier than the last. you screamed, wetness pulsing out of you as your thighs spasmed and he finally let go, collapsing over you with a low, strained moan as he came deep inside you.

you lay there — wrecked, shaking, twitching in the aftermath.

lewis pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “you okay?”

you gave a weak nod, barely able to respond. he smiled, loosening his grip and pulling you close.

“didn’t know you could do that, huh?”

“i— i didn’t either,” you whispered, dazed.

he kissed your forehead, wiping the sweat from your hairline.

“that’s alright, love. i’ve got a few more things to teach you.”

[midnighthazee]

One More..

a.n: I have a favorite hobby of disrespecting my beta reader 🤭🤭 so here's another Chan drabble... Please send requests if you want other readers!! I want to write for the others!!!

Summary: you love to torture your boyfriend Chan and push him to his limits

Word Count: 2131

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18+, ROUGH sex, anal, oral, unprotected sex (let's be smart y'all), bdsm, cock ring usage, creampies, multiple orgasms, m/f, m/m, dom!afab reader, sub!Chan, switch!Changbin, pet names, slight degradation, aftercare.... (I think I got everything...)

You had been at this for over an hour. Watching your poor boyfriend cum over and over. He had a ring around his cock and was rock hard despite having cum five times - once down your throat, once across your bare chest, and once in your pussy. The last two were dry orgasms but you knew he was holding out. He always had more cum for you, and three times was not enough to milk him dry.

Whether or not he was enjoying himself was questionable. He stopped talking a good bit ago. Now he just moans, whines, or mumbles incoherently. He was a mess all thanks to you. Tears fell down his cheeks, his lips glistening with your essence. 

You had already come three times thanks to that expert tongue and big, beautiful nose of his. Even with his hands tied behind him, he could still please you just how you liked. It was impressive actually….

You climbed off of your boyfriend, pecking his lips before helping him off the bed.

“More…” He pleaded - coherently this time - as his body trembled. 

He was now standing in front of you in the spare room of your shared apartment. Untying him, you moved his arms to cuff them above his head. You locked his wrists in the cuffs connected to the chain dangling from the ceiling.

“More?” you ask, tilting your head at him.

“Yes please..” His glassy eyes were locked onto you. The stare was intense despite the obvious exhaustion. Sweat beaded his forehead and neck, dripping down his temples. And his face was flush as he panted. 

“You don't need a break?” you test him. 

Will he break? No, of course not. He’s too good for that.

“No…just…more please!” He begged breathlessly.

“Okay…” you shrug. “Binnie, you heard him. Your turn.”

Changbin, who had been watching the whole time as you played with your boyfriend, moved to stand. He had been stroking himself and already came once. But the sight of his hyung cumming over and over had him still so hard. 

He stood behind Chan, lined up with Chan's entrance, and pushed himself inside. Chan was already stretched out from the dildo you had used to make him cum the second time. He secretly loved when you stretched him out, massaging his prostate just right. And you loved watching him crumble and break under your control.

Changbin pushed past the slight resistance and pounded him from behind. He was gripping his hips tight as he kept tempo despite Chan’s legs threatening to buckle underneath him. The stimulation felt good - so good - it was nearly too much. He could feel his orgasm building as he took every thick inch of his member’s cock.

His own thick cock was still so hard, veiny and red-tipped.  You watched in awe, circling the two. Chan was such a good boy and so eager to please you. When you told him about this fantasy of him being stretched by Changbin, he pushed aside his worries and agreed. You were elated and insisted that he talk to Changbin that night.

Two days later, and they finally had enough free time to play.

Groaning, he pulled against his restraints and moaned. Changbin grunted, the sound of skin smacking filling the room as you watched. Chan whined.

“What’s the matter, Channie?” You coo, stroking his cheek.

He leans into your touch. “Need t’cum.”

“Binnie fucking you so good?”

“Mmm” he nodded weakly.

You smack him across the face. “Words.”

He winces. “Yes, ma’am”

“Good.” you step back.

“Let me breed you. Please…” Chan whined, raising his head to look at you.

“No.”

“Please…” the desperation in the way his voice cracked tugged at your heartstrings but you didn’t cave. He knew better. No means no.

“Binnie, pull out.” you demand.

Changbin stutters, but reluctantly obeys. With a groan, he pulls out of Chan’s tight heat. He was close… Why does he have to suffer too?

“No...” Chan whines, trying to clench and hold Changbin in place.

But it was no use. Changbin slipped out and stood out of reach.

“Please….y/n…” Chan drops his head, tears pooling in his eyes.

“You’re not listening, Channie…” You gesture Changbin over to you. “Now you get to watch Binnie breed me.”

Changbin’s cock twitches at the idea, eager to fill you up. You crawl on the bed and lay on your side, facing Chan. Changbin pushes your legs up towards your chest, kneeling at your bottom and lining up with your entrance. He buries himself inside you with a grunt and begins pounding into you.

Chan whines, hanging his head. The sound of skin smacking fills the room and you relish in the feel of Changbin stretching you out.

“Eyes up, Channie. You have to watch.” you say.

He looks up with hooded eyes, trying to focus on you and watching as Changbin takes what should be his. 

“Fuck…I’m close.” Changbin grunts.

“That’s it baby. Fill me up.”

“Yeah? Want me to breed you?”

“Please, Binnie.” 

A few thrusts later and Changbin is holding you flush with him as his cock twitches inside you, releasing globs of cum into your womb. He leans down, buried balls deep as he gropes your breasts. His hand slides down and begins to rub circles on your clit.

“Mmmm…fuck Binnie.” you throw your head back as he continues.

Changbin slowly moves in and out of you, overstimulating himself as the coil inside you tightens and threatens to snap. 

“Cum for me darling.” Changbin says. 

With that, you snap, coming hard around his cock and milking him dry. You could feel how full of cum you were as you caught your breath. Finally looking back over to Chan, you smirk as you see him biting his lip. He had tears in his eyes as his cock twitched beneath him. 

There was cum dripping from his reddened tip, a little splatter on the floor beneath him. Changbin slipped out with a groan and fell back on the bed. You slip off the bed, doing your best to keep the cum from slipping out.

“Channie…” you say, walking over to him

“I’m sorry…sorry..so sorry…” he blurts out in a mumble.

“Did I say you could cum?” you cross your arms.

Chan whines.

You move swiftly, grabbing him by the balls harshly. “Answer me.”

“No.” he says with a wince. Sniffling, he shakes his head.

“No, what?”

“No ma’am.” he takes a shaky breath.

You pull on the ring around his cock and he hisses.

“Since you want to cum so bad…you’re gonna cum over and over until I tell you to stop.”

“I’m sorry….” he says.

“Nope. Too late. Binnie, bring me the vibrator. And some lube.”

Changbin moves swiftly, his cock fully hard once more. Chan sighs, worried about the rest of the night. It was already close to midnight. At least he thought so. Frankly, he was losing track of time with all the orgasms fogging his brain.

You step behind him, smacking his ass harshly. Five times in the same spot and you were seeing a red mark in the shape of your hand. His body started to shake as he grunted. His arms were hurting and he was tired of standing but he didn’t complain - he was already in enough trouble.

You kneel down behind him, prodding his hole with your finger. He lets out a moan as you push two in. 

“Fuck….” he groans.

You curl your fingers to massage his prostate and he is seeing stars. He squirms against the restraints, too sensitive from all the orgasms. You motion for Changbin to use the vibrator so he turns it on and places it on Chan's cock.

“Mmmmm….y/n,” he moans.

“Cum for me, slut.” You demand.

“I can’t…” he whines.

“You wanted to cum so badly…so come on. Give me another one.” you say, inserting three fingers.

Chan whines, pulling at the restraints. 

“Let’s go, we don’t have all night.” you say as if annoyed.

Taking the lube, you apply a little on your hand and push your whole fist inside.

Chan’s eyes pop open as he squirms. “Ahh…fuck.”

“Cum.” you demand, thrusting your hand in his tight hole.

With a grunt, Chan’s body shakes as an orgasm washes over him. Another dry orgasm. A little cum beads at his tip but that’s all. You keep massaging his prostate, making him fight the restraints in efforts of getting away from your touch. Smirking, you slip your hand out.

“Is that all you got, hyung?” Changbin shakes his head.

“Oh Channie…I know you can do better than that.” you say, licking the bead from his tip. He shivers at your tongue and you take his entire length in your mouth.

“Ahh…” he squirms harder.

When you stop and stand up, his head drops, his body going slack. You loved him like this - all fucked out and barely there. He was probably one orgasm away from blacking out.

“So sensitive.” you smile, lifting his head to look into his eyes.

He groans, mumbling incoherently as his eyes try to focus on you. It was pathetic really.

“One more.” you say.

His brows furrowed as he whined, his eyes closing. 

“Be a good boy for me, yeah?”

His lip pouts but he nods.

“Channie…” you warn.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

Changbin moves behind him and slips inside once more. A pained whine escapes Chan. He was reaching his limit.

You watch as Changbin loses himself in the feel of Chan wrapped around him. He pounds into him, practically holding Chan up. Tears fall down Chan’s cheeks, the sensations too much.

“Please…” he whines.

This is it. He’s breaking. He made it farther than last time.

“No.” you say. “Changbin isn’t even done. And I said….One. More.” 

You grip his chin and make him look at you. The sad, pitiful look on his face tugged at your heartstrings. But he never used the safeword. You doubt he ever would…. So you stay strong.

Changbin lifts him by the hips, pounding into him as his feet no longer touch the floor. Chan’s back was more arched and Changbin was hitting deeper in this position. It also put more strain on Chan’s wrists, making him moan louder.

You knelt down, taking Chan’s cock into your mouth. Craving his taste, you suck and bob your head.

“Ahhh..noo..s’too too…m-much.” Chan cries out.

You ignore him, pushing him to orgasm once more. 

“Ahhh…fuck..” Chan’s body trembles as the orgasm is being pulled from him.

“Fuck…I’m gonna cum.” Changbin grunts.

You reach between Chan’s legs and massage Changbin’s balls, pushing him over the edge with a groan.

“Fuck..” he hisses, cock twitching inside of Chan as he fills him up.

Chan’s eyes roll back as his own orgasm washes over him. His whole body was shaking violently. He moaned loudly, his cum hitting the back of your throat. You suck, milking him dry as his cock finally begins to soften. 

His chest heaves as his eyes close. You stand and kiss his lips, a ghost of a smile appears before he’s truly gone.

“Fuck.” Changbin says, wiping his forehead. 

You reach up and undo the handcuffs, only for him to nearly fall on you. Changbin helps you carry him to the bed, laying him on his back. He spreads Chan’s legs, looking at the poor boy’s abused hole. 

“Look at that.” Changbin smiles triumphantly as a glob of cum drips out. He takes his finger and pushes it back in, Chan squirming weakly.

You lay next to Chan, brushing his hair from his sweaty forehead. You pepper his face with kisses, loving how good he was for you - how much he trusted you.

“I’m gonna shower. Want to join me?” Changbin asks.

“You go ahead. I’m gonna wait for him to wake.” you say.

Changbin goes into the bathroom, insisting on cleaning you up before his shower. After he does, you lay on Chan’s chest for a bit until he finally comes to. 

“How you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore.” he chuckles.

“Too much?”

“Nope. Too good.” he smiles, kissing your forehead.

“We should shower.”

“In the morning. I can’t move.”

“Fine. At least let me clean you up.” You say, hurrying off into the bathroom.

You return with a warm washcloth and begin wiping him down. He jerks slightly, still sensitive from the shenanigans. You giggle when some of Changbin’s cum drips out. You push it back in, making him moan.

“Y/n…” he cautions.

“Well don’t let it drip out.” you say.

You toss the washcloth into the hamper and snuggle back up with your boyfriend. It didn’t take long for you both to fall asleep. You both would definitely be sleeping in the next morning.

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