#i have never been like this with any character before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 7 hours ago

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↳ Index [Day 31 - Werewolves]

Pairing: Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, werewolf!AU

Warnings: Kook is kinda cold at first, it is implied that OC gets sold into a forced marriage where she will be tortured and assaulted (not to Kook but a villain character hahaha), yeah...her future is not looking good, or is it?, Koo might have a plan :----)

Kinks: the trope of "just the tip" and "we shouldn't be doing this", yeah besties i went there, sex in a shed in the forest, sex by the bonfire, nudity, naked cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, he is bigger and stronger than her, size & muscle & strength kink, he pins her down, fuck i'm literally so small when it comes to him like bro please i have so many thots, hahah sorry i'm really into him haahah, he pins her wrists & puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, huge werwolf dick, knotting, multiple orgasms for both, "just the tip" in spooning position, clit massages, rough penetrative sex in pronebone & doggy style, he has her in a headlock at one point, breeding for the sake of scent marking her, so much fucking cum oh lord, dirty talk, he has fangs, he bites her shoulder, he growls, what if i was weak?? what then??, tears, eye contact, this is emotional & has plot and i wanna write more about them, cuddly & safe aftercare, the plot in this is so good omfg

Wordcount: 11.5k

a/n: i have zero (0) Z E R O knowledge of the workings of the omegaverse. i know that there’s alphas and betas and omegas but that’s it. and that there is heat and knots and slick and scenting(?) but how the dynamics work or what ABO each means? no clue. so if this is inaccurate, bear with me and let's see it as my interpretation of werwolves instead. Okay? Okay. Jjssjjs i also added this idea to the mix ps: i actually don't wanna talk about this, i need to recover first BRO GOODBYE this was kinktober 2024 besties FJJDF what a way to end it tbfh

The storm caught you by surprise. You wouldn’t particularly mind it if it wasn’t for the company you have to keep.

Jeon Jungkook. A stubborn, self-centred peacock of a man who thinks he is something just because he is the son of the alpha.

Now, to perhaps understand the situation a little better, one might need what the literary world calls backstory.

You lived in a small mountain town far away from any big human city. The town was surrounded by high walls and visitors rarely found their way to it. It was wanted by the townspeople because you weren’t particularly human. Most humans would call you demons, but you like to call yourselves werewolves. You lived in a pack and the town was your lair.

You can be human but also turn into a wolf by choice. Some choose to keep some of their wolfish features such as their golden eyes or sharp fangs, while others looked entirely human when they walked on two legs.

Jeon Jungkook was the son of the pack alpha and therefore heir of the title. His mother was an alpha as well, which naturally gave him the alpha gen. He was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the pack and he had control over his body during the full moon. He never hid his fangs and showed his golden eyes whenever he was provoked. He earned his pack tattoos when he was twelve after killing three enemy wolves and when he turned eighteen, he earned the pack piercings after fulfilling the maturity rituals within a day. Something only his father managed to do before him.

Ever since that day, Jungkook became even more obnoxious and unlikable than he already was.

You weren’t so lucky. Born as an omega into a normal family with normal siblings in a normal house, your life has been pretty…normal. You are the same age as Jungkook, which naturally made you go to the same classes from elementary to high school. And throughout your academic career, you never learned to like him.

He was an alpha while you were an omega. You were the only one like this from your family, but they never treated you differently. You were a beloved and cherished family member and therefore lived a normal life until your older brother made a mistake and you had to carry the consequences.

He killed the promised omega wife of the enemy’s alpha’s son. The warring alpha wanted to slaughter the entire town at first, but Jungkook’s father persuaded him to take revenge another way. Take one of the village’s omegas and marry her to his son. “She will be complacent and quiet. Once she is married, she will be your property. You can take out your anger on her.” So Jungkook’s father told him and the enemy alpha agreed happily. One night later, you were dragged from your home with no way to escape your future. You were born this way, it wasn’t your fault and now it would be your death sentence. You cursed your brother that night who begged to be taken in your stead. You told him to choke on it. It was the last thing you said to him and probably will ever say to him. You already started to regret it.

Jungkook was ordered to make sure that you would arrive at the enemy village safe and sound. It has been three days ever since that night and all your hatred for anyone and anything has been directed solely at him.

“The rain’s annoying me. Let’s take shelter”, Jungkook says dryly.

“No.”

Jungkook glares at you.

“Yes”, he hisses, grabbing your arm by your elbow to drag you to a shed nearby. “I’m not gonna walk in the rain. Besides, it’s late. We need to rest.”

“Let go of me”, you protest, stumbling after him. There isn’t much that you can do. He is stronger and bigger and because of his status, he naturally has almost instinctive control over your actions. You could fight against these instincts, but it’s a lot easier not to.

“Would you rather get sick in the rain?”

“Maybe, yes. Maybe I’ll get sick enough to die. At least like this, I won’t be sold into torture”, you spit, ripping yourself free from his grasp. Again, all your hatred and anger is directed towards him, so it is easy to fight your instincts right now.

Jungkook gawks at you in surprise.

“I mean it”, you insist.

He frowns. He steps close and lifts you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Let me down, you fuck!” you yell, flashing your fangs and kicking around you.

Jungkook merely shoulders you better and walks, frowning deeply.

“You brought this onto yourself.”

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You big, smelling piece of shit.”

Jungkook kicks the shed open and drops you. You stumble in surprise, but catch yourself pretty quickly. You and he are mere inches away, sharing air. The constant lighting cutting the sky illuminates your angry faces. You and Jungkook have your golden eyes out and show off your fangs. Your bodies are steaming as your increased body heats dry the water.

“I’m gonna let it slip because we were classmates, but insult me again and I will make you be quiet. Understood?” he gnarls.

You step closer, making him taste your words.

“Go kiss my ass.”

You turn your back to him and stomp further into the shed.

The shed wasn’t much bigger than ten square meters. There were tools on each wall and some tools scattered around the ground. Clearly it was meant as storage for woodworkers. One corner had neat stacks of wood and on a table, some blankets were stacked in case some of the workers needed to stay the night.

“Great. That’s luxury, isn’t it?” you grumble.

The door slams closed behind you, making you flinch. You don’t look however, wanting to appear stronger than you feel. In truth, you are scared and alone and heartbroken. You are frightened. You are sad. You are afraid. You are helpless and hopeless. And you are only a little bit angry. As you walked, you couldn’t stop crying. You were happy for the rain because it masked the constant tears running down your face and you were happy for the loud thunder masking your sobs.

You are being sold like property to a man who will torture you for sports. All you want is to be home and to be held and to have someone pay for your fucking therapy because, goddamn, you are going to need a hell lot of therapy if you should survive this.

Jungkook is the last person you want to be with right now. He lacks empathy and kindness and has a tendency to impulsive anger. You are waiting for him to hurt you after slamming the door, frozen on the spot.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, he swerves past you to get firewood. You can only watch him, frozen like a scared little girl despite having long moved past your second decade on this cruel earth.

Jungkook uses his claws to ignite the fire by scratching them over a stone. He blows into the amber until it forms flames, then he stands up. He hooks his fingers in his shirt and takes it off.

You gasp and look away. You don’t know what he is going to do but it scares you. Is he going to test you out now? Make sure that the alpha is going to get a good delivery?

“Relax. I need to dry my clothes and I can’t do that on my body. I’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook scoffs and starts unbuckling his belt. You watch his tattooed fingers work. He is wearing heavy silver rings on them. Yep, your people can handle silver without pain. It’s only a myth that it hurts you. Just as garlic being lethal for vampires is a myth. Humans like to tell these tales to sleep better at night.

Jungkook begins taking off his pants, meeting your gawking eyes.

“Stop staring and bring the blankets instead.”

“Oh, uhm. Sorry.”

You instinctively obey.

“Make a bed by the fire. Away from the door.”

You obey again.

Afterwards you lift your head, having to gasp and stare. What? Stare? Why can’t you look away?

He is completely naked, currently hanging up his clothes on a chair. You should want to look away but you can’t. His body is sculpted, his muscles well defined. He currently has his back turned to you. It is so big and broad, contrasting against his small waist. Shit, his legs and butt are so big and sculpted in comparison to it. His back is covered scars. Slashes, bite marks, cuts. Some seem to have dug very deep when fresh.

“Just spit it out”, Jungkook hisses, rolling his shoulders which makes his back muscles shift and flex.

“What?”

“I can feel you staring. Just say what you wanna say.”

“Your back. It’s covered in scars.”

Jungkook touches his own back, tracing the scars he can reach.

“I guess it is.”

“Who did this to you?”

“Too many people to count.”

“What happened to them?”

“The fact that I’m still here and they’re not, should be answer enough. Shouldn’t it?”

You gulp.

Jungkook turns.

You gulp even harder. Look away! You know that no matter how hard you beg your eyes, they won’t look away. It is like they are enchanted.

His pecs are big, clearly sculpted and strong. His stomach is defined, carrying scars as well. But what truly catches your eyes is his cock. Sitting under a dark, masculine bush of pubes, it glistens in the shine of the fire. It is big, even soft, a little tanner than the rest of his skin and sitting against a pair of big, plumb balls made for breeding. So this is what the cock of an alpha looks like. The effect it has on you is embarrassing. You feel slick build up in your holes and saliva collect in your mouth.

“Quit your staring. It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.”

You shake out of your trance, looking away in embarrassment. Your face feels on fire. Holy fuck, what is wrong with you?

“You have seen dick before, right? Weren’t you and Tae a thing in high school?” he talks as he gets under the blanket.

“Uh, yeah, uh. We were.”

“And knowing Tae, he fucked you. Didn’t he?”

You turn away in embarrassment, rubbing the side of your neck. Of course he did, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that.

He figures it out instantly however, glancing at your middle when you aren’t looking. Just for a second, nothing more.

“So stop being weird about it”, he says and lies down.

You shrink. Jungkook studies you. You are trembling in your wet, cold clothes. He pities you.

“Get naked and hang your clothes up to dry”, he orders.

You want to move in obedience at first, but then stop. You are too scared to obey instinctively.

“No. Close your eyes.”

Jungkook groans and closes his eyes.

“You’re so stuck up. You should practice being naked in front of other people. I heard that Alpha Urquard likes for his pack to watch wedding nights.”

You bite down tears. Great. Not only will you be assaulted, it will happen in front of god knows how many people. What if you just throw yourself onto one of the sharp tools? It would be a bitch way to go, but it’s better than what will happen to you.

You ogle the pitchfork. Maybe you could do it. Maybe.

“Hey!”

You snap out of it. You whip around, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Hurry up and come here.”

“What?”

“Come here. It’s better than over there.”

You ogle the pitchfork then his darkened face. Did he figure you out?

“I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get out of your wet clothes and come to me.”

“Ple-please close your eyes.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat and obeys. With shaking fingers, you get naked. With trembling knees, you walk to his side. With weak muscles, you get under the blanket next to him. There is only one blanket and you try your fucking hardest not to touch his body in any kind of way. He left you the spot closer by the fire so you were warmer and he could oversee the door.

Jungkook, who senses your presence, opens his eyes. He studies your face, then your body. You have the blanket pulled up to your neck, shivering uncontrollably. Even now, you seem plagued by the cold.

He furrows his brows in distaste and closes the distance. He manages to put his arm around you before your quiet beg freezes him.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

He moves away, studying you in shock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers are trembling as you grasp the blanket.

“Why would I hurt you?”

The honest confusion in his voice forces you to open your eyes.

The fire casts deep shadows into his face as much as it illuminates other parts of it. His wet hair is drying slowly, sticking to his wrinkled forehead. He is furrowing his brows which explains the wrinkles.

“Why would I hurt you?” he repeats his question with more urgency.

“I don’t know.”

“I was ordered to make sure that you arrive unharmed to Urquard. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Please don’t?”

“Don’t make sure that I arrive safely.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise. Such vulnerability isn’t what he expected from the once feisty, rude woman of before. You are tiny in fear, trembling uncontrollably and begging him with greyed, hopeless eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gonna be an alpha’s wife. That’s every omega’s dream”, he snarls, sounding weirdly jealous.

You burst into tears instantly, turning your back to him as you curl into a small ball. You wail loudly, unable to pretend any longer. You don’t want to be married off. You don’t want it.

“No, uh… stop crying. I, I’m ordering you to stop crying”, he panics, hissing his words which only makes you cry harder.

He stares for a while, fumbling with his words. In the end he doesn’t know what to say, turning off his brain to speak from his heart instead.

“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay”, he says softly, rubbing your shoulder.

His touch is tender and soothing. You sob despite it or perhaps because of it. It feels so weird to receive because it is nice.

“Hey, it’s okay”, he tells you, draping his arm over you. Like this, your bodies are touching under the blanket. He feels so warm against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not gonna be okay. I’m being sold like a pig to a man who likes to watch his daughters in law get raped in front of the entire pack and who will use every second of his life to torture me.” You shrink into yourself. “I just wanna die. I’m so scared.”

“Hey no, don’t say that. Don’t be scared, I’m here.”

“I heard that Urquard killed his first wife by ramming a medal hook into her stomach and hanging her like this. All because she couldn’t give him a child with the alpha gen. Please just kill me, please.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___.”

The last time Jungkook said your name, you and he were both eleven and played adventurers in the forest. He celebrated his twelfth birthday two weeks later and another two weeks later, he killed those three wolves and got his tattoos. He stopped playing with you and stopped saying your name. Quite frankly, he stopped playing with any children since that day, saying stuff like “a man wouldn’t play stupid stuff” or “my father says that it’s weak to play” and he became quiet and distant. Maybe he became sadder as well and lonelier.

Your name from his tongue after almost fifteen years forces you to turn in his arms. For just a second, the same innocent and playful boy looks back at you before you blink and come back to reality. His features and eyes are still the same shape and colour but he seemed to have grown into them. His left cheek carries a scar these days and his brows are furrowed more than they are relaxed.

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___. And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself either.”

“So you would rather see me sold to a monster?” You squeeze out tears of anger and frustration. “I hate you so much. You sadistic, heartless piece of shit.”

Jungkook frowns deeper.

“You alphas are all the same. You think just because you are stronger than the rest of us, you can push us around like cattle. We aren’t cattle. We are people, we live normal and good lives. We are nothing special but that’s good. We’re boring and mundane but we love deeply. Unlike you disgusting, selfish alphas who see us as nothing but merchandise.”

“Are you done now?”

“I’ve only started. You are heartless, selfish, self-absorbed, apathetic and a snob. At the spot where your heart once was, a rotten piece of coal is sitting and when you talk, plants die out of spite.”

“Anything else you like to add?”

“You are the worst person to ever exist. You are elitist and stubborn and way too obsessed with status. And you…” Your eyes fill with tears. “...you broke my heart before I even knew what heartbreak was.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken in an unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? Regret? More anger?

“We did everything together until one day, you decided that I wasn’t good enough anymore. For fuck’s sake, we were twelve and you acted like I was embarrassing for doing stuff kids our age were allowed to do.”

“You think that I had a choice?” He finally speaks up and you get a feeling that it was your turn to listen. “I stopped being a kid in my father’s eyes the day I killed those wolves. I didn’t wanna push you away, but father made me.”

“What?”

“I became his heir that day, I sealed my fucking fate. I had to stop playing a-and doing kid’s stuff. He forced me to train day in and out. I had to be the perfect man. I was twelve, for fuck’s sake. I was a fucking kid who wanted to play adventurers in the forest with, with his….with his best friend.”

The silence which follows after his confession is deafening. Fifteen years of hating him. Fifteen years of thinking that he hated you. And all this time, he only acted like this because his father made him. You meet his emotional eyes, feeling emotional yourself.

“I was your best friend?” you whisper.

He nods his head, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“I miss you, ___”, he presses out.

You feel lost for words. You are so shaken in fact that you can’t even find it in you to cry. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of hating him for what he did and wishing for an apology you thought would never come and here it is. His confession. His apology.

“It’s been fifteen years and I still do. I miss you and I’m sorry.” He cups your face, wiping away the remnants of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You stare. And stare. And stare.

“Please say something”, he whispers.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just anything, please.”

“You’re the most selfish piece of shit I have ever seen.”

Jungkook’s face falls in shock. His eyes show how much your words hurt him.

“Why tell me your stupid apology now? Why confess to me now? Knowing that I will be sold into a life of sex slavery and torture?” You hit his chest. “Why tell me now when you literally deliver me to my fucking death? You piece of shit, you’re selfish and cruel and I want you dead.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You and your entire family and the rest of the pack. Die. All of you just die.”

You hit him with more vigour. More and more and more.

“Enough”, he stops you, pinning your wrists into the ground and with it, rendering you helpless, “stop hitting me, please.”

You spit at his face.

Jungkook flinches back. He sits up and wipes it away.

“What the fuck? You spat at me. Why would you do that?”

“Go to hell and shove your sappy confession up your sadistic ass”, you hiss. You feel no ounce of remorse for what you did.

Jungkook wipes your spit into the blanket and moves quickly. He puts your wrists together and pins them above your head. Before you can spit again, he puts his other hand over your mouth, rending your legs useless as well by slinging one of his muscular legs over yours.

There is no fabric between your bodies. You are skin against skin. Raw and naked and hot. You can feel his dick against you and you know that he can feel your tits against his arm. You are rendered useless, vulnerable to whatever he plans to do to you now that spat at him. You are scared, but you are also droopy. It is that same droopiness you felt when you looked at his naked body. Except stronger and more unbearable. You are hotter and there is slick gathering in your holes. You can barely breathe, but maybe this is because of his hand over your mouth.

“Stop fighting me and listen”, Jungkook talks with his lips close to your face. You can’t stop staring at them. You fight him while your mind goes droopy at the sight of his lips moving. “You can either go to your new life or listen. Are you gonna listen?”

You nod your head.

“Good. I’m gonna pull my hand away now and you won’t spit at my face again. Promise?”

You nod hesitantly.

“Good. I trust your word.”

He pulls his hand away, keeping his arm around you. It lies exactly over your tits, rubbing against your nipples. You know for a fact that he is able to feel it. You curl your fingers, trying so hard not to get affected by his closeness. Or to make a sound for that matter.

“I said this stuff to you because I wanna make it right between us. Your brother fucked up, but what Urquard did in retaliation is crazy and what father allowed is insane. If you want me to, I won’t bring you to him.”

“What? But…your father promised.”

“I don’t care. It’s barbaric that omega trading is still a thing. You are right, you are people not cattle.”

“If he finds out that you refuse, he will disown you.”

“I have a plan for that.”

“Urquard will kill you.”

“That’s why I have a plan.”

“What plan?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“Just tell me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”

“The only way I can free you of this pact is if you get marked by another alpha. You’re unclaimed right now, but if you were to be marked by an alpha other than Urquard’s son, then the pact would be invalid.”

“What do you mean with marked?”

He hesitates.

“Tell me.”

“An alpha would have to put his dick into you.”

“So assault? I would have to be assaulted?”

“Not if you wanted it.”

“Huh?”

“Not if it’s with someone you trust. Someone who’s gonna be careful and gentle and who’s gonna make it nice for you.”

“And who should that be? Last time I checked, I’m not really friends with many…”

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s. He seems shy all of a sudden.

“Oh.”

You gasp for air.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s crazy. I thought of other ways. I’ve been plotting ever since we left town. That’s why I volunteered. To give us time, to give me time to think of something. I thought of lots of stuff, but they all ended in hypothetical death or enslavement of our pack. The only peaceful option was this.”

“You volunteered to bring me?”

He nods his head, “anyone else would have been too scared of or too loyal to my dad. I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“And you thought of this?”

“It’s the only way. We kill Urquard and his sons? Their pack comes after us. We run away? Their pack is gonna punish our pack. We kill everyone? Impossible we’d die and destine our pack to agony. It’s only death and pain u-unless you get marked by an alpha.”

“But I would have to be with you afterwards.”

“Only if you want to. We can pretend, make everyone think that it’s real. You wouldn’t have to be with me ever again.”

“Oh my god, this is insane.”

“I know. I’m sorry. The choice is yours. I promise.”

You study his face. You are still trapped under him, sharing heat. Skin against skin. arm against chest and cock against hip. He is semi hard by now, smearing slick on your skin. The fact that he is affected by this - by you - doesn’t make it easier to stay calm. You are glad for his leg over yours because it forces your legs to be closed and therefore hide the masses of slick having accumulated by now. His hair is still damp, hanging into his face messily. His fingers feel so strong and protective around your wrists. You swear that each time he breathes out and you inhale it, you feel high. You are so attracted to him right now.

Truth be told, you always thought that he was handsome beyond comparison. He has a mesmerizing aura and a captivating smile. His physique is your dream physique and his face often caught your attention in a crowd. You were utterly and insanely attracted to him which made your hatred for him grow deeper. He betrayed you, but he is still haunting your thoughts. It was unbearable until right now.

“I’m scared. I never did it with an alpha before”, you confess, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.

And Jungkook takes that vulnerability, cradling it in his safe palm just as he cradles your cheek the same way. His eyes softened, his voice did too.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle. I promise”, he almost whispers the words, tracing your brow and temple between cradling your cheek.

“I don’t know you like that.”

“Neither do I you. It’s gonna be a one time thing.”

“I’m scared. I’ve been scared ever since all of this started.”

“Don’t be. I’m here. I won’t let them touch you.”

“But you’ll touch me?” you ask in a whisper, lifting the inner corners of your brows.

Jungkook has a hard time staying calm when you look at him with such puppy eyes.

“If you let me, I will.”

You exhale shakily, squirming under him.

“I’m scared.”

He lets go of your wrists to cradle your other cheek. You lean into the touch, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. Your arms stay in their submissive position naturally.

“Just the tip. That’s all it takes. Just the tip for a few seconds so you take on my scent and then it’ll be over”, he says.

“Just the tip?”

“Yes, just the tip. Nothing more. I promise.”

You are going to do something which you thought never to do. But if it saves your life, you would do anything. Even something as crazy as allow Jungkook to stick his tip into you.

“Okay. Just the tip.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, moving closer for a kiss like it was instinct before he stops himself. You shudder, craving nothing more than what he denies both of you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he breathes.

“What?”

“Kiss.” He lets the word dance over your lips, running his thumb under your lips as his eyes stare. “We shouldn’t.”

“No, we shouldn’t”, you whimper, chasing him.

Moments of craving and yearning where both of you try so hard to kiss the other. But you shouldn’t. Just the tip, nothing more.

“Roll to your side, please”, Jungkook breaks the electric silence, guiding you with his hand on your shoulder until your back faces his chest.

You can see the fire and the rest of the shed like this, but not Jungkook.

“Why like this?”

“If I look at your face, I’ll stick it in completely. I can’t do this to you.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook closes the distance, connecting his hand with your hip. He guides it up your body, travelling along your waist and arm. His touch leaves goosebumps where it goes. His palm is slightly calloused from fighting but incredibly tender in how it touches you. You feel yourself breathe heavier and heavier the longer he touches you.

He reaches your shoulder, closing the last of the distance by lowering his lips to your back.

“Ah”, you let out quietly, tensing up. Your eyes are widened comically big, staring into the bright flames. He is kissing your naked skin. What the fuck.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed in contrast. His head is foggy, but he tries to fight these feelings. You smell so good that it is very difficult to do so.

His hand is still on your shoulder at first but moves to your waist when he guides his kisses to said shoulder.

“Oh god”, you whisper, sighing afterwards.

Jungkook feels droopy from the sound, digging his fingers into the softness of your side. He shouldn’t be doing this. Just the tip. That’s what he said. And yet here he is, kissing your soft skin as if it was his right to do so. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop. He traces and holds your side and stomach, telling himself that he only does it to relax you. He kisses every inch of your exposed back and shoulder, telling himself that he only does it to calm you down. When in truth he does all of this because he wants to make it nice for you. And maybe he wants to be a source of tenderness after what you had to go through.

Lies. These are still lies. He fucking does this because he wants to. He fucking does it because he wants to know how it is to touch you. Taehyung talked when you and he were high school sweethearts. Oh, Taehyung talked and Jungkook had to listen and secretly seethe with jealousy. It should be him, he thought back then, he would know how to treat you right.

You had no idea of these thoughts. You still haven’t as you lie here next to the warm fire while Jungkook touches you oj so carefully. You don’t know if you’re allowed to close your eyes. Just the tip, you agreed on. Can you close your eyes for that?

But it feels so good. His lips are soft, while his piercings are hard in contrast. His touch is currently dancing up the middle of your torso slowly. You fight the shivers wanting to run through you.

You lose the fight a moment later when he pulls you against his strong chest and kisses your neck.

You whimper, trembling like crazy. You arch into him, craning your neck to give him more of it. Your heart skips beats under his lips. Jungkook grips the blanket to stop his hand from cradling your tits.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this”, he presses out under his breath, mouthing at your neck hungrily. “I shouldn’t….do…this.”

He drags his lips to your jawline and sucks. Your eyes close.

You mewl, rolling your hips back into him. His cock slides between your legs, rubbing between your puffy folds. He trembles in shock, gripping your hip to stop your wiggles.

“Don’t do this. Don’t act like this when it is supposed to mean nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

“Mhhm I know. You can’t, but I can. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You swallow your begs, not wanting to appear weak or desperate. It is so difficult not to beg when you have his cock between your legs. Hugged by your folds and exchanging slick. He feels hot and his veins are pulsing desperately. You have never before felt so stupidly horny than you do right now. Quite frankly, he might be forcing you to go into impromptu heat if he keeps being like this.

“Just the tip, yeah? Just the tip”, he whispers as he puts his arm under your head so you have something comfortable to rest on. You practically melt into him, biting back tears. You are being held and it feels so good. So safe and warm.

He kisses your neck and cheek, whispering his words.

“Are you comfortable? Are you ready?”

“Yeah”, you sigh, pushing your hips back.

Jungkook slides his other hand between your bodies, using it to align his cock with your dripping entrance. Just the tip, he reminds himself, nothing more. Don’t be greedy, keep calm. This doesn’t mean anything.

“Last chance”, he says, wanting to stall time so he can calm down.

“I trust you.”

Jungkook bites back his moan, having to take a deep breath before he can act. You are messing him up without knowing. With a racing pulse, he applies pressure on your puffy cunt and slips inside.

You squeak, shaking against your will. You convulse around him, gasping repeatedly. He went in so easily, despite his size.

Jungkook growls, “fuck, holy fuck”, he gets out and bruises your hip as he grips it for support. It takes everything inside him not to push it all the way in. Jungkook genuinely has a hard time not to moan. You are so wet.

Judging from your tremors and the way you fight for air, it is just as difficult for you.

“Only a few more second”, he forces his voice to sound as normal as possible. He wants to fuck you, but knows that he shouldn’t.

“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head. You want him to fuck you.

Jungkook closes his hand to a fist, growing his claws to dig them into his own palm. The pain keeps him from acting up. He wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise.

Jungkook always hoped that he would marry you one day. There it is. It’s out there. Jungkook had feelings for you for decades. In his dreams, you marry him and he can spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten. He would be your protector against any danger, your best friend to laugh with, your remedy for your heats and the lover you can be yourself with.

Being with you like this is everything he ever wished for. You are so soft and warm around him, your slick is so wet. He knows that it would be so much more deeper inside.

“I think it should be good”, he presses out. He can’t do it anymore. One more second and he would push in all the way. He can’t do this to you. You trust him and he can’t abuse this trust.

“Really?”

You turn your head, looking up at him in droopy devotion. Jungkook whimpers, instantly cradling your cheek. He furrows his brows, throbbing inside you. He fights the urge to kiss you, to rest his forehead against yours, to bury himself deep inside you.

“Please don’t look at me.”

“Jungkook.”

His name hasn’t rolled off your tongue ever since he left you at the playground. It almost brings tears to his eyes, forcing his arm around you tighter.

“I can’t do this”, he drops his forehead against yours “I think I remembered that I need to put in all of it. It’s not gonna work otherwise.”

He is lying, because he can’t accept the truth yet. That he is selfish and totally addicted to you.

“Please do.”

“No. No we shouldn’t be doing this”, he fights it still, shaking his head which makes his nose rub against yours.

“Please”, your words tickle his lips, “save me. Whatever it takes, save me.”

“Urgh”, he growls through gritted teeth.

“Please.”

Jungkook lifts his head. He wants to look into your eyes as he does it. He wants to see the utter bliss in your eyes as he turns your relationship status from ex childhood best friends to two adults reunited.

He rolls his hips, feeding your warmth his length inch by inch. Your brows furrow and lift, your lids flutter, your mouth falls open.

“A-ah”, you squeak out.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m all here”, he whispers. He closes his arm around you, cradling you in a gentle headlock.

You close your fingers around his lower arm, spilling tears from your eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head.

“But?”

“So…filled out. So big.”

“I know. I’m big, but you’re taking me so well.”

You whimper. Jungkook feels so insanely protective over you right now.

“Yes, you are. Taking me so well”, he insists, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

Jungkook continues until he bottoms out. He shudders, choking down a whimper. You feel so good. He never ever felt like this before. It feels like coming home which is insane because he was never with you like this.

“___”, your name comes out of him against his will.

“Jungkook”, you answer him, clenching around him.

“Stay still, please.”

“Okay”, you whimper, looking at his lips.

The pull is magnetic. Jungkook draws closer with parted lips, you meet him with parted lips. Once you kiss, it will be over for you and him. There will be no coming back from this.

“No”, he croaks, putting his hand over your mouth. The headlock tightens like this, giving you such a sense of being protected that your walls clench against your will.

“We shouldn’t kiss. Never”, he rasps weakly, mouthing at his own hand right where your lips lie beneath. You close your eyes, trying to move your lips under his hand. It is starting to feel cruel to be denied his kiss. Especially when memories of your past come back to you.

You remember that it was a group of eight kids and you were doing “dares” to see who is the coolest. Taehyung was dared to prank call his mom and he actually did. He pretended to be a grown up insurance clerk and once he hung up, you really thought that he managed to prank his mom (he didn’t hide his phone number and had a childlike voice). Jimin, another friend, was dared to climb a tree. Which he did and he was sooo cool for it. They were silly, childish dares who did no harm but made you feel so cool. Then it came to you and you were dared to kiss Jungkook. Which you did. In a childlike, innocent way but which made you and him feel so grown up for a moment.

The memory is haunting you right now, making you want to redo it in a grown up, mature way. You open your eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. Judging from the foggy desperation in them, he is haunted by the same memory.

“Please get out of my head”, he gets out.

You whimper his name behind his hand. Jungkook furrows his brows, grinding his teeth.

“No please. Stop it”, he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut.

You want to fight it as well, of course you do. You swore to hate him forever and now you want nothing else than his kiss. You want to fight it, but your hands move against your will. They rest themselves over Jungkook’s hand and try to dig between your face and his palm.

He growls, huffing out air. The only thing keeping your hips from joining the impossible fight is his hand on it. Shit, now he is concentrating on down below. Your puffy walls around him, so soft and warm. Being inside you, Jungkook swears he will never be cold again. Or maybe he will be, maybe he will never find warmth again once this stops, once he has to slip out and pretend that it meant nothing.

What will happen afterwards? He is so needy and he knows that you are too. What will happen? Are you going to lie next to each other, wet and needy and force your bodies to calm down? Or maybe he will need to excuse himself to outside, fuck his own fist as the loud thunder masks his desperate moans while inside the shed you most definitely would touch yourself as well?

Jungkook was so lost in his haunted thoughts that he realises too late that you managed to tug his hand away. Your lips brush his’.

Jungkook moans from the bottom of his heart, going in for more at first. He even rolls his hips into you. Like instinct. Like it is meant to happen.

“No”, he pushes you away, slips out, breaks the moment. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not that far.”

You sob, shrinking into yourself.

“Please”, you whimper your words, staring at him with desperate, sad eyes. You lift your hips, begging him silently.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do it again. I can’t do this to you.”

“Please”, you beg.

“Do you even know what an alpha does when he fucks? I won’t be able to stop until I bred you. I-I’ll knot you and, and you won’t be able to get me out until I’m soft again.”

“I know.”

“This could take hours. You will feel out of control and vulnerable.”

“You said that you will protect me. That I-I’m safe with you.”

“___”, he chokes out and crawls to you. He picks you up in his strong arms, holding you against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy against your back. “Stop me. I beg you. I can’t pretend any longer that this means nothing to me. You have to stop this.”

You reach up and twist his hair, pulling him down to you.

“We shouldn’t-”

You silence him with a kiss.

Jungkook trembles, resting his weight against you as the kiss renders his body useless for a moment. You are kissing him. You stopped this stupid farce for you and him. You sealed your fates. Jungkook knows that it won’t be the same after tonight. He will never fucking give you up.

He breaks the kiss, but stay close.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Please. More.”

“Are you even hearing me?” he hisses.

“Yes. Please, more.”

“Fuck, we really shouldn’t, but maybe I…I have to move it a few times? To really mark you?”

“Yes, sounds good, mark me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”

“I-I’ll do it just for that. To make sure.”

“Yes. Okay”, you sigh and melt into him, lifting your leg.

Jungkook slides his hand under it instantly.

“Let me do it. Relax.”

You let your muscles relax, allowing him to carry your leg’s weight. He does it so easily, tracing your hairline with his fingertips as he looks down at you. He moves his hips so his cock would slip between your folds, working you up to what was coming by grinding back and forth. He really drags out the movements, sending trembles through your legs each time his thick tip rubs your swollen clit.

He exhales shakily, whispering his thoughts.

“You’re so wet. I have never felt slick so warm and, and wet before.”

You look up at him with shy, nervous puppy eyes, making him want to protect you forever.

“Is it bad?”

“No, fuck no”, he puts his arm around your chest, pulling you up to him until he can rest his forehead against yours. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Baby?”

“I…” he drops you, hips stilling in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. Anything he could say feels like too little of an apology.

You however increase the lethalness of your puppy eyes, reaching down to try and move his hips again.

“Please. More.”

“We’re only doing this to save you, right?” He asks, picking up a rhythm again. It is the same as before but way more arousing because he purposefully makes sure that his tip slips into you every now and then. He starts off with just a little poke, increasing the inches more and more. But it stays just the tip, for now, don’t be mistaken. If he slips inside it should happen accidentally. He likes to tell himself if it happens like this, it will mean that it wasn’t his fault.

“Yes, only to save me” you lull your words, getting droopier and droopier. Each time he has his tip inside you, it feels so good. Before he slips out and you feel sad, until of course he drags his cock over your clit instead.

You can’t do this for long anymore and Jungkook seems to share your feelings. The tip he buries in you starts to go way past your entrance and it seems to stay longer inside. His golden eyes never break contact, his fingers rub your arm as he holds you so close.

He slips into you again. So deep.

“Mhhhhm” he lets out in a rumble, furrowing his brows.

You whimper, lifting your brows.

Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. He won’t be able to escape like this.

Deeper.

He bottoms out.

You moan, eyelids fluttering and lips chasing his kiss.

He shakes his head, talking as he falls into the kiss.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You kiss and Jungkook’s cock doesn’t leave you again. It stays buried deep inside you, reshaping your walls as his hips move. Slowly for now, daring not to be too rough with you. Because being rough makes it real. Maybe if he keeps his movements tiny enough, it will still count as being nothing of importance.

Because that’s what this is, right? Something that doesn’t mean anything, something that won’t change who you and he are. This is what those needy, hungry tongue kisses mean, this is what the desperate touches mean, this is what the exchanging of warm slick means. Nothing. Because if those things meant something, it would force Jungkook to admit that he is doing This for himself. Of course he does it to save you, but if it meant something, he would have to admit that he is also doing this for himself.

But it doesn’t mean anything, right? Right?

You break the kiss for air, looking up at him submissively and droopy.

“It feels so good”, you whisper.

“Close your eyes, please.”

You obey and Jungkook has to come to the realisation that it makes no difference. This fucking means something. Holy fuck, he is done for.

“Maybe I have to make you cum?”

“What?” you ask, eyes still closed.

“I think I need to make you cum once. Then you’ll be marked.”

“Please do. I trust you.”

Trust. He thought that he would never earn it again and yet here he is. With your weakened, trembling body in his hold as you trust him to take good care of you.

“Mhhm shit”, he presses out, biting down on his own tongue to calm himself. Be tender with her, he thinks, you swore to be a gentle alpha so fucking get it together.

He moves you into another position, draping your leg over his hip so you wouldn’t have to use your muscles. You are so open and spread like this, allowing his big cock entrance. He slides his hand to your clit and takes it between his thumb and middle finger to massage it.

“A-ha”, you let out, arching your back and lifting your hips.

“Ssssh, relax. I’m here.”

“Please, deeper.”

Jungkook buries his cock deep inside you and stays there, circling his hips. He is so big and long that he stimulates both your g-spot and your cervix. He is so gentle that it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good that your fangs grow against your will and you leak masses of new slick.

“Like this? Am I making it nice for you?”

“So nice”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously.

Jungkook is gazing at you as it happens. He watches every change of expression on your face, fighting the urge to call you beautiful. Because that’s what you are. Beautiful. You would deserve to know but he is scared of the consequences. It would mean the fluttering of his heart is real.

“Is so nice”, you sigh, writhing happily. It breaks him.

“You’re beautiful”, he says, moaning softly when you tighten and arch your back. So you liked it. His cock throbs inside you, leaking into you needily. “Yeah that’s right, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Taking me so well, feeling so good on my cock.”

“Ah, aaaah”, your moans are so loud, your pussy so fucking wet and your clit so swollen.

Jungkook fucks you gently, massaging your spot of pleasure with his long, skilled fingers. He can feel your heartbeat in your back, as much as he can feel you rub against his nipples.

The blanket over your bodies is so hot, making you and him sweat wherever you are touching. He can’t deny it anymore that this is real, that this means something. This means fucking everything to him.

“You’re such a good omega, taking me so well.”

“You’re making me cum”, you croak, grasping his arm for support, “please, can I cum?”

“Yes, baby. You can. Cum for me.”

“Jungkook”, you gasp, ripping your eyes open to stare in shock as his gentle touches bring you over the edge.

Your eyes flicker golden, you moan silently with an open mouth.

“That’s it, cum for your alpha. Let me mark you, that’s it.”

He has a hard time saying these words to you. His thoughts are running wild. This is the face you make when you have an orgasm. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this to be a face he gets to see. And it’s so beautiful that he treads the moment your high stops and he has to pull out. He doesn’t want to pull out. He needs more of you. He needs you like fucking crazy.

“More please”, and then your beg releases him. You are down from your high, yet still so hungry for more. You feel so fulfilled with him that you don’t want this to stop.

“What?” he croaks.

“More please, more.”

“If I do this, I won’t stop until I cum too.”

“I know.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have to cum inside you to mark you?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The pretend continues. The fucking charades that this is only to save you from your fate, that you and he aren’t doing this because it feels so good to both of you.

“Please Jungkook, fuck me properly.”

“Are you sure?” he almost squeaks the words because he has such a hard time controlling his urges.

“Yes. Please.”

“Holy fuck. ___ urgh.”

Your needy beg does the rest. His animalistic instincts take over.

Jungkook growls, grabbing you roughly to flip you onto your stomach and therefore pin you down. He straddles you from behind. His right hand slips to the back of your head, his left hand has a possessive grip on your hip. His legs cage in your legs, keeping them squeezed together as he drills his thick cock into your pussy. You are so tight like this, jerking him off in such a maddening way.

You scream up as you didn’t expect him to take on such a punishing pace instantly, but you aren’t complaining. It feels so good to take him. He fucks you so well. His cock is so filling, making you feel whole.

“I’m not holding back now. For you, just for you. Is this good for you? Do you like this?”, he growls through gritted fangs, shifting his eyes between your face and his cock.

“Yeaa”, you sob, clawing at the ground helplessly. You were aware that Jungkook has been an adult for years, but this is still changing how you see him. Whenever you thought of him, you saw that twelve year old boy calling you immature for playing. That boy is gone as if he never existed. Jungkook is a fucking adult and he is rewriting the image in your mind one heavy stroke at a time.

“You should have never seen me like this. Fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook spits, high on your body. He is embarrassed by his actions, but can’t stop them. “But I can’t stop. Holy fuck, I need you so fucking bad.” He needs to fuck you. You are so small and weak right now, so goddamn vulnerable. Once so unclaimed until he took you.

You are his.

Jungkook growls, pinning you harder into the ground.

You are his.

You reach behind yourself because his hand on your head hurts. He grabs your wrist instantly, using it to pin your arm against your back. You wail up, kicking the ground as best as possible as you writhe in your imprisonment.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. Not you. I’m sorry.”

He apologises, knowing that he won’t be able to stop until you are claimed. The thought makes him crazy. He is claiming you. The girl who was his first kiss, his best friend who always came to him when she needed help, the woman who counts on him to protect her from her fate and the wife he always hoped to have one day. And he is claiming her. He is marking her, making you his for anyone to smell.

Jungkook drills you harder. He pulls out all the way to his tip just to thrust into you sloppily. He does it over and over again, reminding your dripping pussy of his size with each possessive thrust.

And you take it with grateful sobs, existing only for him right now. You would never recover if he stopped right now. You need him to finish what he started even if it ruins you in the process.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at where he buries himself in you.

Your slick is slowly taking on a milky colour from the intense friction. It sticks to his veiny shaft and his dark pubes, smearing all over your ass and his thighs as well.

If this shouldn’t happen, why does it feel so good? If this shouldn’t happen, why does it look so hot? If this shouldn’t happen, why does he not want to stop?

Jungkook scrunches his face in anger. He lets go of your arm so he can grip your hips with both hands. He pulls them up until you are kneeling. Your face is still buried in the ground, your back is arched.

You shake and convulse instantly, sobbing in embarrassment because the open position of your legs forces your slick to run out of you.

“Holy fuck”, he gets out, staring at it with blown out pupils, “holy fuck, ___.”

“I’m sorry, please don’t judge me”, you beg, trying so hard to keep it inside with clenches around his cock.

“Never. Holy fuck, I could never.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Relax, baby. Don’t fight it”, he says, knowing that you and he shouldn’t be doing this.

You obey instinctively. You relax around him, releasing the slick you so desperately wanted to hide from him. It begins squirting out of you messily and audibly, marking him yours.

“Yes”, he growls and begins pulling your hips onto his cock possessively, thrusting into you at the same time. He does it with one hand because the other he slips between your legs to pinch your clit. Gently of course, keeping her between two fingers to massage her in circular motions.

“Let me help you.”

You wail and shake, releasing more and more of your pretty slick. It runs down your thighs, covers his legs, smears all over your ass and his stomach.

“Relax, that’s it. My pretty omega shouldn’t keep it inside. It’s not good for you.”

“Jungkook, I can’t do this”, you sob.

“I know. We can’t do this, we never should have.”

“No”, you wail, “no. I have to cum again.”

“Whenever you want to. Your alpha’s right here, baby.”

“Jungkook!” you scream, breaking apart as if you never orgasmed before. It feels so good.

“Holy fuck baby, ah!” Jungkook’s yelp, hips stuttering in shock, “you feel so good, what the fuck ah! Ah! I can’t control myself. Baby!”

Jungkook growls and lays himself over you. He holds you up with one hand around you, biting down on your shoulder as his body breaks. You sob from the pain of the bite, loving every second of it.

And then it hits you.

His seed.

His thick, hot seed.

It shoots out of him with such strength that you feel punched in the gut. The effect is instant. You lose control over yourself. Quite literally, you lose control. You can still talk, using it to scream his name as you orgasm in a way you have never experienced before.

The first one was intense but familiar. This right now? You didn’t even know that your body could feel this way. It is truly, seriously, religious. It is as if you finally found your purpose in life. And in a sense you did. You found your alpha. He finally claimed you properly. You are his’. You aren’t unclaimed anymore. Nobody ever educated on this, so you have no idea that these religious, soul fulfilling feelings mean that you changed forever, but you don’t mind right now. You are just riding on these feelings, screaming his name and milking him dry.

Jungkook whimpers. He truly, honestly whimpers from the bottom of his heart, collapsing on top of you. He knocks you into the ground like that, burying you under his weight but he couldn’t stop it from happening.

He never experienced this feeling either. He had sex with people, but it never felt like This before. He orgasmed in them but it never felt like this. It feels as if his seed finally has purpose. That’s how it feels. Like his efforts and all the rutting he is doing has fucking purpose.

And then it happens. Something that he was only told could happen to him, finally happens to him. His knot swells. He actually fucking grows a knot and has to writhe on top of you, burying his nose deep in your hair as he sobs your name.

You sob as well, insides suddenly feeling like bursting. His knot is so big and thick that it should feel like an intruder but it doesn’t. It feels like the best drug ever. You didn’t even know that you could stretch this far. The amount of stimulation it gives you as it rubs against your walls is otherworldly, making you chase one orgasm after the other.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Ah! ___!” Jungkook yelps, having to orgasm again as your tight walls stimulate his knot. The amount of sensitivity he feels on it is insane.

His hands slide together with yours, holding them tightly as he pins them into the ground. His tears fall into your hair, your own tears soak the blanket.

“I can’t stop”, you get out, shaking in fear, “I can’t stop cumming!”

“Me neither.”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared”, you sob, riding on the unfamiliar, scary sensations.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’m here”, he talks you through it, shaking beyond saving.

You aren’t even moving much. There are no thrusts, no sloppy wiggles. Just and you and him, actually stuck together because of his knot while he pumps one cumshot after the other into you. There is no movement and yet it feels better than the most passionate rutting session you each had. No movement and yet you are fulfilled beyond comparison. Is this how it feels to find your mate? Is this what it is?

Did “we shouldn’t be doing this” turn into the finding of your other half? Was “we shouldn’t be doing this” fate’s way of protecting you from what will happen once you gave in? Or was there ever a “we shouldn’t be doing this” strong enough that could have prevented you from doing this?

Whatever it might be, it is too late to think about the what ifs now. The reality is that you and he can’t stop climaxing, lost in the most addicting and intense pleasure you and he ever found yourselves in. It is never ending. When he climaxes, you have to too which sets him off again, triggering your need to as well. It is a vicious, never ending, orgasmic cycle.

“This feels so good”, he croaks out, writhing on top of you, “does it feel-”

“Yes! Yes! Oh god please Kook not again. Kook!”

“Kook”, Jungkook repeats the nickname in a whimper, curling his toes as another orgasm hits him as well. He never thought to hear this name from you again. He can’t handle it any other way than filling you with more of him.

There is so much of him inside you by now, having no way to escape because of his knot that your body reacts in the only way it knows how to survive. It opens up for his seed to go deeper. It trickles into the deepest parts of your sex organs, warming you from the inside out. It is like he is alive inside you, feeding you with the strongest drug you ever took. You think that you black out for a moment. You are still aware of what is happening to you, but it is hidden behind a thick layer of blurriness.

“Eh”, you let out, falling into the darkness gladly. It feels so good to do. There is something because you are aware of your orgasm, but there is also nothing. It is as if you are standing next to your body, watching it shake and tremble as he makes a home inside you.

And then there is nothing. Truly nothing. No more orgasmic pleasure, no more watching yourself. Just darkness.

“___? Hey, ___? Holy fuck, what’s wrong with you? ___, open your eyes please”, Jungkook’s distraught voice comes closer and closer, his hand on your face becomes clearer and clearer, “please ___, open your eyes, please. Oh god, what have I done? I should never have done this. I- Oh god ___ please, I’m sorry. Wake up, please.”

He shakes your head gently. It brings you back to reality. Your body regains the ability to feel.

“Jungkook”, you whimper, opening your eyes. You writhe instantly, throbbing around his knot happily.

“___ hey. Holy fuck, thank god. Hey”, he says, dropping his forehead against your temple and kissing the side of your face desperately, “I’m so glad that you’re back. I thought that I killed you.”

“No, just made me black out.”

“Why? Does it hurt? Are you in lots of pain?”

“No, just haven’t felt so good before. Ever. Kook, I”, you suddenly have to whimper your words, “I feel your cum inside my uterus. It’s so warm and alive and….right.”

“It is?” He whimpers as well, feeling weakened in emotion.

You nod your head. Jungkook sobs quietly, using the hold he has on your hand to guide your arm under your body and against your chest. Like this, he rolls your bodies to their sides, instantly cradling you against his chest while his trembling lips kiss any part of you that he can reach.

Your face, your neck, your shoulder, your arm, your back and the bite mark he left, your face again. Over and over he kisses each inch of you, whispering your name every now and then as if he is trying to make sure that he remembers who made him feel like this. As if he is trying to make his brain memorise who it was who made him experience his first knot.

He is still swollen, keeping everything inside you safely. It is still so intense, but suddenly it feels more emotionally intense than physically. Enough time must have passed for the fire to reduce the logs by lot. And all of a sudden you and he don’t feel the uncontrollable need to orgasm anymore. You still want to be close, moving your hips in emotionally needy wiggles in hopes of keeping his knot alive for as long as possible, but it is not to chase another orgasm. You want this to last because it feels so safe.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want this to end”, Jungkook confesses, holding you protectively.

“Me neither. I feel so safe like this.”

“Holy fuck, ___. What did we do?” he presses out, kissing your cheek over and over again.

“I don’t know.”

“I never knotted before. I never felt like this. Holy fuck, ___.”

“What is gonna happen to us now?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t let you go again. Ever. I don’t wanna fucking share you. Never. I’m trying so hard not to tell you that you’re mine ‘cause I promised you that this would never happen again.”

“Please don’t.”

“What?”

You turn your head, leaning deeper into his embrace. Like this, you feel his racing heart against your shoulder and you are entirely protected in his arms. His knotted cock throbs inside you as your eyes meet. The same playful, gentle boy of the past looks back at you, except that his once boyish features are mature and aged up. A gentle, adoring man stares back at you and you can’t seem to find your way out of his galaxy eyes.

“Please don’t promise me that this won’t happen again.” You cradle his cheek. “Don’t hold back on telling me that I’m yours.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re high from my cum, these aren’t your real feelings.”

“Why shouldn’t they be?”

“___, we-”

You put your thumb on his lips.

“We shouldn’t have done this, I know. You kept telling me as we kept doing this.”

Jungkook gives up in a sigh, having to chuckle afterwards. You giggle, cupping his cheek again.

“Just the tip. That’s what we agreed on. Just the tip”, he says.

You clench around his knot, touching your bloated stomach. You instantly guide his hand to it, wanting him to feel what he did to you. He purrs deeply, biting down on his lower lip. You grin goofily.

“Just the tip indeed.”

He laughs softly. You snicker and stub his nose with your own.

“This is the messiest and deepest tip I have ever given”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, this was funny.”

“Mhm, I’m pretty funny”, he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck to tickle you gently.

You squeak and giggle, feeling happy beyond comparison. Jungkook ends his loving attack with kisses to your ear.

You sigh, melting into the affection. You and he lace fingers, using the position to melt closer.

Your droopy eyes stare into the flames while Jungkook relaxes you with soft kisses all over your neck, shoulder and back.

The thunderstorm stopped outside. It is already a little brighter. Fuck, so you were really trapped in this orgasmic state for a few hours. It felt as if so little time passed as if it was happening.

“What is gonna happen now?” you whisper.

“Now? We’re gonna cuddle and I’ll be kissing you until you’re asleep.”

“I mean after that. Do we have to show Urquard that I’m claimed?”

“I guess. I haven’t thought that far into the future yet. But yes, he will probably want proof that you’re marked.”

“I’m scared. Do I have to get naked in front of him? And his pack? Will he put something in me to get a scent?”

“He can try if he wants to die.” Jungkook pulls you closer possessively. “You’re under my protection now. Okay? You won’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with and I’ll hunt down anyone who dares to overstep your boundaries. Even Urquard and his pack.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I promise you.”

You close your eyes, spilling tears.

“Thank you.”

You never thought it possible to have your dreams fulfilled by Jungkook and yet here you are. You are being held and comforted by Jungkook and it feels like home.

“Don’t thank me. You’re mine. My darling ___ to keep safe. You have my body to protect you and my heart to find a home in.”

There is deep rooted honesty in his words, but you are suddenly too sleepy to ask him what he meant by them. There will still be another time. This wasn’t just a one time thing after all.

184 notes · View notes

solxamber · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! Just wanted to say I’m in love with your TWST writing. Was just reading the white rabbit series and I’m hooked. In part 3 we see that White Rabbit! Reader is 100% not ok, mostly because nothing has changed. They still have all their work to do, all their school work, all the “requests” from the NRC boys and staff, and they are STILL being teased. Sure the teasing may have changed a little but it’s still there. Reader is still being brushed aside, not listened to. Characters like Crewel and Leona may say they like the change, and that kinda hurts? They like reader being burnt out and just so worn down? Everyone seems to have comments on what they think, but have they asked what our little rabbit thinks? What reader feels? Do any of them realize just how much our White Rabbit actually does for everyone?

I kinda want to see White Rabbit! Reader snap again and just get teary eyed and say how the other overblots got support and can change, but reader still has a role. Reader can’t stop doing their work. They just can’t care anymore because it’s clear others don’t care about them. If others think it’s so good for them to be like this then what does that mean? Reader doesn’t want to be stressed out. They don’t want to lash out and hurt others, they never did. But they just feel so worn and done with it all.

IDK I just see it being such good hurt/comfort fic material. Rabbits may be prey but they aren’t just weak and defenseless. Our little rabbit thought has just had enough. I’d love to see your take on this.

Hope you’re doing well!

White Rabbit! Reader Aftermath

Original Ask ; Rabbit Overblots ; Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff, Rollo, Neige, Che'nya

hi! I'm sorry it took so long, it went way too long and got out of hand. i hope you like it <3

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle noticed something was wrong. It was in the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of another endless list of tasks. It was in the way your normally brisk pace had slowed, as if each step you took was through quicksand. But he didn't say anything—not at first.

You were always like this, weren’t you? Always running late, always fretting about something. He just assumed it was your usual nervous nature.

Except, it wasn't.

The change was subtle, but there was something different in your eyes now. Something darker. You still did the work, you still completed each task with quiet efficiency, but the politeness had taken on an edge of detachment. You weren’t anxious anymore—you were done.

"Here's the report you wanted," you said one evening, handing him a set of documents. Your voice was flat, no longer laced with the apprehension he’d grown used to. There was no fidgeting, no desperate need for approval in your tone.

Riddle paused, looking up from his desk. "Is everything alright?" The question was curt, almost accusatory, as if he was more irritated by your change in demeanor than concerned.

You gave him a tired smile. "Does it matter?"

His brows furrowed. "Of course it matters! You’ve been acting strange."

You laughed—a bitter, hollow sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Strange? No, Riddle, I’ve been tired. You’ve never noticed that before, have you?”

The air between you stilled, a suffocating weight pressing down as he processed your words. You were always so compliant, so willing to go along with everything. He’d assumed you preferred it that way. After all, hadn’t you always done your work without complaint?

But now, seeing the exhaustion etched into your face, the lifelessness behind your eyes, he realized he’d been wrong. He’d taken your compliance as a given, never once considering the toll it had been taking on you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, but the question felt hollow even as it left his lips.

“Would you have listened?” you shot back, your voice soft but cutting. “When have any of you ever really listened to what I have to say?”

Riddle swallowed hard, the sting of your words settling deep in his chest. He prided himself on fairness, on order, but he hadn’t been fair to you. He hadn’t been listening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something that felt dangerously close to vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I didn’t realize how much I was asking of you."

You shook your head, not in anger, but in resignation. “I’m not asking for much, Riddle. I just need someone to care. Really care.”

For the first time, Riddle felt helpless, unsure of how to fix what had been broken between you. But he stepped forward, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to offer some comfort—an unspoken promise to do better.

“I’ll be better,” he murmured, “for you.”

Trey Clover:

Trey always noticed things. The way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your eyes darted around as if you were constantly expecting something to go wrong. But now, things were different.

It wasn’t the nervous energy that worried him. It was the stillness.

You sat at the table in the Heartslabyul kitchen, staring blankly at the open textbook in front of you. You had come to help him prepare for the next Unbirthday Party, like you always did, but tonight you barely spoke.

Trey placed a cup of tea in front of you, watching as you absently reached for it. “You okay?” he asked gently.

You blinked, as if snapping out of a daze, and gave him a tired smile. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. You hadn’t been for a while now.

Trey sat down across from you, resting his elbows on the table as he studied your face. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been quiet lately. More than usual.”

You shrugged, staring down into your cup. “Just tired, I guess.”

Trey wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t good with words, not in the way Cater or Riddle were. But he didn’t need words to see that something was wrong. The way your hands trembled slightly as you held the cup, the way your shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you?” he asked, voice soft but firm.

You let out a dry laugh. “When am I not overworked?”

Trey frowned. “That’s not fair to you.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed quietly, setting the cup down. “But it’s what’s expected, isn’t it? Someone has to keep things running smoothly.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. His fingers were warm, steady—a stark contrast to the coldness you felt creeping into your bones.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You can ask for help.”

You shook your head, the weight of his kindness almost unbearable. “And burden everyone else? I don’t want to be a problem.”

Trey’s grip on your hand tightened slightly. “You’re not a problem. You’re important. To all of us.”

You looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time that night, and the sincerity in his eyes nearly broke you. He meant it. He really meant it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ve just been so tired, Trey. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He stood then, moving around the table to pull you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet strength that made you feel safe—really safe—for the first time in weeks.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “I’ve got you.”

Cater Diamond:

Cater was all smiles and sunshine. That’s what people saw. But he noticed things—small things, cracks in people’s facades. He was an expert at it because he had so many cracks of his own.

So, when he saw you dragging yourself through the day, your usual nervous energy replaced by something much darker, much heavier, he didn’t ignore it.

“Hey! Let’s take a selfie!” he chirped, pulling out his phone as he bounced over to you.

You blinked, staring at him like you hadn’t heard a word. “I’m not in the mood, Cater.”

Cater paused, lowering his phone. That was definitely not like you. Normally, even if you were frazzled, you’d humor him. You always did.

“You sure?” he asked, tilting his head as he scrutinized your face. “You’re looking kinda down, you know.”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes. “I’m just… tired, Cater. I’m really tired."

Cater dropped the playful act immediately, his smile fading as he tucked his phone away. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No one wants to hear me complain.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said, sitting down next to you, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “I’m here for you, okay? What’s up?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as the weight of everything threatened to crash down on you. “It’s just… everything. No one listens. No one notices. I do all this work, and no one cares. It’s like I’m invisible.”

Cater frowned, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, that’s not true. We care. I care.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “Do you? Do any of you? Or am I just the White Rabbit, always running around, doing everyone’s bidding, never being heard?”

Cater’s heart ached at the pain in your voice. He’d been so wrapped up in his own facade, his own distractions, that he hadn’t realized just how much you were hurting.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his usual playful tone replaced with sincerity. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve asked sooner.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you tried to hold yourself together. “It’s not your fault. I just… I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Cater pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he whispered, “You’re not alone, okay? You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us."

Ace Trappola:

Ace wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person in the world, but even he wasn’t oblivious to the way you had been acting lately. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn. It wasn’t like you at all.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Ace asked as he plopped down next to you in the courtyard, his usual smirk in place. “You’ve been acting super weird lately.”

You didn’t even look up from your book. “I’m fine.”

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Nah, you’re not. You

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Nah, you’re not. You’re like, super off. What’s going on? You never act like this.”

You finally looked up from your book, your expression weary and drained, like someone who had been running for far too long. “I’m just… tired, Ace.”

“Tired?” He scoffed, nudging your shoulder. “We all get tired, but you look like you’re about to keel over.”

You sighed, closing the book and turning to face him. “It’s not that kind of tired. It’s the kind of tired where you’ve been working non-stop, doing everything everyone asks of you, and no one ever bothers to ask if you need help.”

Ace blinked, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning as if he didn’t quite know how to respond. “Wait, is this about all the stuff we’ve been asking you to do? ‘Cause I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Ace,” you interrupted, voice tight with frustration. “No one ever thinks. You all just assume I’ll do it, and I do, because I don’t want to let anyone down. But I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

He shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I… I didn’t realize it was that bad. I just figured you liked doing stuff like that—keeping busy, you know?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Liked it? I do it because I don’t have a choice. You all ask, and I say yes because that’s what’s expected of me. But no one ever asks if I’m okay, or if I need a break.”

Ace’s smirk was gone now, replaced with an uncharacteristic seriousness. He didn’t like feeling guilty—he hated it, in fact—but there was no denying the weight of your words.

“...Damn,” he muttered, looking away. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to… you know, pile all that stuff on you.”

You slumped back against the bench, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “It’s not just you. It’s everyone. But I appreciate the apology.”

Ace was quiet for a moment before he nudged you again, a little gentler this time. “Hey, listen. I’m not exactly good at this whole feelings thing, but… you don’t have to do all this alone, okay? Next time you’re feeling burnt out, just say something. I’m not completely heartless, you know.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Ace said with a grin, his usual cocky tone returning. “And don’t worry, I’ll be the first to jump in and tell everyone to back off. I got your back.”

For the first time in a while, you felt a little lighter. “Thanks, Ace.”

Deuce Spade:

Deuce always noticed when something was off, especially when it came to people he cared about. So when you started acting distant, quieter than usual, it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it.

He found you one afternoon sitting by the fountain, staring blankly at the water. You didn’t even notice when he approached, lost in your own thoughts.

“Hey,” Deuce said softly, sitting down beside you. “You okay?”

You blinked, looking over at him like you hadn’t even realized he was there. “Oh. Deuce. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned, not buying it for a second. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been really quiet lately.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a lot.”

Deuce tilted his head, his concern growing. “A lot of what?”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even bother explaining. But then again, Deuce wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t someone who would brush you off or tease you for feeling overwhelmed.

“It’s just… everything,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “All the tasks, the work, the pressure. It’s like no one ever stops to think about how much I have on my plate. I keep doing everything they ask because I don’t want to let anyone down, but I’m at my limit.”

Deuce’s frown deepened. He had always admired your work ethic, your ability to handle so much without complaint. But now, seeing you like this—so drained, so worn out—it hurt him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” he said quietly, his voice laced with guilt. “Why didn’t you say something?”

You shook your head, your eyes cast down. “Would anyone have listened?”

Deuce was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched as he processed your words. He hated that you had been carrying this burden alone, that you felt like no one cared enough to notice. He wasn’t good with words, but he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve done something sooner.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Deuce. I just… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Deuce said, his tone resolute. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even strong people need help sometimes.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the weight on your shoulders lighten just a little.

Deuce reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll help you, okay? Whatever you need, just say the word.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, Deuce.”

He smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

And in that moment, sitting by the fountain with Deuce by your side, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona was lounging in his usual spot in the botanical garden, eyes half-lidded as he observed you marching around like some overworked servant. It had been days since your overblot, but not much had changed for you. The requests from students, the impossible deadlines from professors, the teasing from those who had the nerve to think your meekness made you an easy target—it was all still there. But now, there was something else in you too: a biting cynicism that wasn’t there before.

And Leona noticed.

“You’re looking different these days, Herbivore,” Leona drawled from his spot, smirking when you paused to look at him. “I like it. That whole ‘cynical, done-with-everyone’s-bullshit’ vibe suits you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head and trying to ignore him. “Yeah, well. I guess you could say I’ve had a change in perspective.”

Leona raised a brow, sitting up slightly. “About time. You were way too nice, always letting people walk all over you. This version of you? It’s more interesting.”

You should’ve been fine with his words. Normally, you would’ve brushed it off, even if the new cynicism was a product of your exhaustion and burnout. But hearing Leona praise you for being this way, like the months of silent suffering were a badge of honor—it was too much.

You dropped your books and spun around, the words spilling out before you could stop yourself. “Interesting?! You think this is interesting? I’ve been running myself into the ground, doing everything everyone asks of me because I’m too tired to say no. I’m burned out, Leona. I’m not ‘more interesting,’ I’m barely holding it together!”

Your voice broke at the end, and before you knew it, you were trembling. All the stress, all the exhaustion, it came pouring out in one unguarded moment.

Leona blinked, taken aback by your outburst. He hadn’t expected you to break down like this. Slowly, he stood up from his spot and approached you, his usual lazy expression replaced by something more serious.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower now, gentler. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You tried to hold back the tears, but it was too late. Your whole body was shaking with the weight of everything you’d been carrying, and the stress of it all finally crashed over you like a wave. You covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed and embarrassed.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Leona sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but seeing you like this—it stirred something in him.

“Alright, alright, come here,” he muttered, pulling you into a loose hug, his arms warm and strong around you. “You don’t gotta keep doing everything, you know? I know I give you a hard time, but even I don’t think you should burn out like this.”

You hesitated, but then let yourself lean into him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you tried to calm down.

“I just… I don’t know how to stop,” you whispered.

Leona sighed again, holding you a little tighter. “Then maybe it’s time to start saying no. And if people give you grief, send ‘em my way. I’ll take care of it.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of Leona offering to help in his own gruff way almost making you feel a little better. Almost.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice still small but a little more steady. “I… I needed that.”

He didn’t respond, just held you a little longer until your breathing finally evened out. And though he didn’t say it, you could tell—despite his teasing, despite his indifference—Leona wasn’t about to let you crumble under the pressure. Not on his watch.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie had always been good at picking up on little details. As someone who thrived on reading people, it wasn’t hard for him to notice that something was up with you. The way you dragged your feet through the halls, the forced smile you’d plaster on whenever someone asked you for a favor—it wasn’t hard to tell you were burning out.

“Oi, you look like you’ve been run over by a stampede,” Ruggie commented, popping up beside you in the cafeteria one afternoon. He snatched a bite of your sandwich before you could react, grinning when you barely even protested. “What’s up with you? You’re usually a little more, I dunno, lively.”

You glanced at him, too tired to even scold him for stealing your food. “I’m just tired, Ruggie. Really tired.”

Ruggie raised a brow, his grin faltering a little. “Tired? Like, you haven’t slept? Or tired like ‘I’m about to drop dead from all the stuff I’ve been doing for other people’ tired?”

You gave him a look, and he immediately understood. “Ahh, the second one, huh? That’s rough, man.”

You sighed, pushing your tray away. “It’s just… it’s a lot. I keep doing everything everyone asks, and no one ever stops to think that maybe I need a break. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

Ruggie frowned, his usual mischievous expression softening. He wasn’t one for heartfelt speeches, but he knew what it was like to be overworked and overlooked. He had spent most of his life like that, after all.

“Hey, look, you don’t gotta do everything, y’know?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “People here? They’ll keep asking as long as you keep saying yes. But if you’re feeling wiped, maybe it’s time to start saying no. You’re not a machine.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Easier said than done.”

Ruggie shrugged, snatching another bite of your food before giving you a playful grin. “Well, if it helps, I’ll start saying no for you. Anyone bothers you, just send ‘em my way. I can be real convincing when I wanna be.”

You smiled, a small, genuine one this time. “Thanks, Ruggie.”

“No problem,” he said, his grin widening. “And hey, don’t stress. I’ve got your back.”

Jack Howl:

Jack had always been observant, especially when it came to his friends. So when you started acting different—quieter, more withdrawn—it didn’t take long for him to notice. He wasn’t the type to pry, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

One afternoon, he found you sitting outside the gym, your head in your hands. He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You okay?”

You looked up, surprised to see him. “Oh, Jack. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned, his golden eyes narrowing. “You don’t look fine.”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a lot.”

Jack sat down beside you, his posture straight and steady. “A lot of what?”

You hesitated, but something about Jack’s calm presence made it easier to open up. “Everything. School, work, everyone asking me for favors. It’s like no one ever thinks I might need a break. I just… I don’t know how to keep up.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. He had always admired your work ethic, but seeing you so worn out—it didn’t sit right with him.

“You don’t have to do it all alone, you know,” Jack said, his voice steady. “You’ve always been there for everyone else. Let me be there for you this time.”

You blinked, surprised by his words. Jack wasn’t usually one for grand gestures, but his sincerity was unmistakable.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you murmured.

“You’re not a burden,” Jack said firmly, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even the strongest need help sometimes.”

The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

“Thanks, Jack,” you said softly, your heart feeling a little lighter.

He nodded, his usual serious expression softening into a small, reassuring smile. “Anytime.”

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was a businessman at heart, sharp-eyed and always aware of people’s shifts in demeanor. He had noticed, of course, that your usually skittish nature had dulled over the past few weeks. At first, he’d dismissed it as another bout of anxiety, something he could handle with a few soft words or requests framed as favors. But now, after your overblot, he couldn’t ignore the change.

The sharp edge of your exhaustion was a palpable thing.

He found you in the library, surrounded by textbooks, scribbling notes with a frenetic energy that felt more like desperation than focus. He watched you for a moment, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he adjusted them.

“Ah, there you are,” he said smoothly, striding over to you. “I’ve been meaning to discuss our little arrangement. It seems you haven’t fulfilled your duties as of late.”

You didn’t even look up. “Not now, Azul.”

Azul blinked. That was… new. Usually, your nervousness kicked in the moment you even thought you’d disappointed him. Now? Nothing. Just tired resignation.

He sat down across from you, leaning forward. “You seem… different, lately.”

You sighed, setting your pen down with a shaky hand. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Azul’s confidence faltered. “You’re… not going to elaborate?”

Finally, you met his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Azul? That I’m fine? That everything is just peachy? Because it’s not. I’m tired. And not in the ‘oh, I need a nap’ way. In the ‘I don’t know how to keep going’ way.”

His brows furrowed. That wasn’t what he expected. Azul wasn’t always the best at handling raw emotion, especially when it wasn’t something he could exploit or fix with a contract. But for some reason, hearing you say that struck a chord in him he didn’t often feel.

“Have you… considered taking a break?” he offered, almost hesitant.

You laughed, a bitter sound that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. “A break? When? Between the assignments, the favors, the expectations? When would I possibly have time for that?”

Azul was silent, watching the weight of your words settle in the air between you. For once, he didn’t have a calculated response. He didn’t know what to say to someone who was clearly at the end of their rope.

After a moment, he placed his hands on the table, fingers lacing together. “Perhaps I’ve asked too much of you. I… didn’t realize the extent.”

You shook your head, eyes distant. “It’s not just you, Azul. It’s everything.”

And for the first time, Azul didn’t know how to respond with anything but quiet understanding.

Jade Leech:

Jade had always been observant. His eyes tracked your movements from the moment you entered the lounge, slower, more deliberate than usual. Your once-anxious energy had dulled into something colder, more cynical. There was no hesitation in your step now, but there was no spark either.

He approached you, ever the gentleman, with a soft smile. “Ah, Prefect, it’s good to see you. I hope you’re not overworking yourself.”

You gave him a look, flat and unimpressed. “Funny.”

Jade raised an eyebrow at your tone. “I was being sincere.”

“Yeah, sure.” You walked past him, barely acknowledging his presence. Jade felt something akin to amusement, though there was an edge of concern to it. He followed after you, steps as smooth as ever.

“I must say, your demeanor has changed since the… incident.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “You mean the overblot? Yeah, I guess that’ll change a person.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “You seem less… timid.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of being scared,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s exhausting.”

Jade tilted his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. “I see. And this exhaustion—how do you plan to handle it?”

You let out a sharp laugh, devoid of humor. “Handle it? I don’t know, Jade. How do you handle it when you’re expected to do everything and still be okay?”

He paused, not expecting such bluntness from you. His smile softened just a fraction. “Perhaps you should give yourself permission to fail once in a while.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. Jade rarely dropped his formal, polite mask, but there was something almost… genuine in his suggestion. For once, he wasn’t teasing or testing you. He was offering something that felt like understanding.

“I’ll try,” you said softly, feeling a lump in your throat. “I’ll try.”

Floyd Leech:

Floyd had always loved messing with you. You were jumpy, reactive, and so easy to fluster. It was fun, in the way that poking at a small, defenseless animal was fun to a predator. But now? Now you didn’t react at all.

He leaned over your shoulder one day in the cafeteria, poking your cheek. “Heyyyy, Rabbity, whatcha doin’? You’re not runnin’ away from me today?”

You barely spared him a glance. “Not today, Floyd.”

Floyd blinked, frowning at your monotone response. Usually, you’d stammer, scurry away, or at least give him something fun to work with. Now? Nothing.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re no fun anymore.” He flopped down beside you, pouting dramatically. “You’re always so serious now.”

You sighed, not even looking up from your food. “Maybe I’m tired of being the punchline, Floyd.”

That made him pause. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Huh?”

“I said,” you turned to face him, eyes weary and tired, “I’m tired, Floyd. I’m tired of always being the one everyone messes with. I’m tired of being everyone’s joke.”

Floyd’s pout deepened, but now there was confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that… It’s just fun, y’know?”

“Well, it’s not fun for me anymore,” you said quietly, turning back to your food.

Floyd didn’t say anything for a long moment, his usual mischievous energy fizzling out. He wasn’t good at dealing with… feelings. But something about the way you looked—so small, so tired—made his chest feel tight in a way he didn’t like.

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re no fun when you’re all sad like this.”

You snorted softly. “Yeah, well. Life isn’t always fun.”

Floyd stayed silent for a while, the frown still on his face. Then, suddenly, he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Don’t get all boring on me, okay? I like it when Shrimpy’s feisty.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, just a little. It was a weak sound, but it was something. Floyd grinned at that, squeezing you tighter.

“See? There’s the Rabbity I like.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had always been sunshine, too bright for his own good. He’d been one of the few who never seemed to notice how much the constant pressure was getting to you. His joy and excitement for life often overshadowed the quieter struggles of those around him, including you.

After your overblot, Kalim’s usual exuberance had dimmed. He’d been visibly shaken, his bright smile faltering when he saw you again. He greeted you with his usual enthusiasm, but there was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice.

“Hey! How are you feeling? Do you want to have a party? To celebrate you feeling better?”

You glanced up at him, eyes hollow. “I’m fine, Kalim.”

He tilted his head, concerned. “Are you sure? You don’t sound fine. Maybe some music and dancing will cheer you up!”

Normally, his carefree energy might’ve been endearing, but today it grated on your nerves. You shook your head, feeling the weight of your exhaustion press down harder. “I’m tired, Kalim.”

His smile wavered. “Oh… well, we can have a quiet party then! Just you, me, and Jamil. We don’t even have to dance if you don’t want to.”

You sighed, finally looking at him, and the moment he saw the weariness in your eyes, his face fell. The ever-bubbly Kalim looked… lost.

“Kalim,” you said, rubbing your temples, “I’m tired. Really tired. And it’s not the kind of tired that a party can fix.”

Kalim’s eyes widened. “Oh… I didn’t realize you were that tired.” He shifted, fidgeting with his bracelets. “I don’t like seeing you like this. You’re always working so hard, and I thought maybe I could make you smile...”

Your heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. Kalim, for all his obliviousness, genuinely cared. His way of expressing it might have been overwhelming, but there was no doubt that his concern was real.

“I appreciate it,” you said softly, giving him a small, tired smile. “But right now, I just need to rest.”

Kalim’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “Okay, no party then. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, alright?”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Kalim.”

He smiled again, softer this time, but still as warm as ever. “Anything for you.”

Jamil Viper:

Jamil was observant—painfully so. Unlike Kalim, he’d seen the signs of your burnout long before you reached the point of overblotting. But Jamil, being Jamil, hadn’t stepped in. Not because he didn’t care, but because he knew what it was like to carry the weight of responsibilities without complaint. In his eyes, everyone had their burdens to bear.

Still, seeing you now, after everything, was unsettling.

You were in Scarabia, helping Kalim with some menial task that Jamil knew could’ve been handled by literally anyone else. Your once jittery energy had dulled to something almost robotic, and Jamil couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

He approached you cautiously, arms crossed. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

You didn’t look up from your work. “Just tired.”

Jamil’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for a while now.”

You sighed, finally pausing and turning to face him. “I overblotted, Jamil. What do you expect?”

He didn’t flinch at your words, but the tension in the air thickened. Jamil had always been blunt, but seeing you like this stirred something in him that he didn’t quite like.

“Overblot or not, you’re still here, doing things that aren’t your responsibility,” he said, voice flat. “Why?”

“Because if I don’t, who will?” you snapped, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. You were sick of it. Sick of doing everything and being noticed for nothing. “Everyone expects me to keep going, so I keep going.”

Jamil’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps. He had been part of that cycle, hadn’t he? Always asking, always expecting, never really considering how much you were carrying on your own.

After a moment, he sighed, his voice softer than usual. “You don’t have to keep going like this, you know.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden gentleness in his tone. “What?”

“You don’t have to be everything to everyone,” Jamil continued, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re trapped in expectations, but… burning yourself out won’t fix anything.”

For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t like Jamil to be so direct about emotions—at least, not with you. He always kept a safe distance, but now, he was offering something more genuine.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Jamil’s gaze softened, just slightly. “You’re not alone in this. You have people who care. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to crack the walls you’d built around yourself. The exhaustion, the stress, it all felt a little lighter in that moment.

“Thanks, Jamil,” you said quietly, giving him a tired smile.

Jamil gave a small nod, his usual stoicism returning. “Just… try not to overwork yourself again. I have enough on my plate with Kalim.”

You chuckled, the sound weak but genuine. “I’ll try.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil had always been a stickler for perfection. His eyes caught every flaw, every imperfection, even the ones that others didn’t notice—or couldn’t care about. So, it was no surprise when he caught you slouching, your hair slightly disheveled, and your usual anxious attention to detail completely absent.

You were exhausted—burnt out to the point where nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Vil clicked his tongue in disapproval as he crossed his arms. “You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you?”

His tone was sharp, but the comment barely made a dent in your shell of apathy. You just blinked up at him, too tired to even flinch at the judgment.

“Yeah,” you muttered, barely audible. “I guess I have.”

Vil’s violet eyes narrowed, and he placed a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “This isn’t like you. The White Rabbit I know was always meticulous, even when the rest of you was a mess.”

The words echoed in the air, but you didn’t respond. You knew he wasn’t wrong. The old you would’ve scrambled to fix your appearance, to make sure you lived up to Vil’s impossible standards. But now, you felt too tired to care. What did it matter?

Vil’s frown deepened as he studied you, and something flickered in his gaze—something like concern. “You’re not even going to argue?” he asked, voice softer than before.

You shrugged, staring at your hands. “What’s the point?”

For a moment, there was silence. Vil wasn’t used to this—this version of you that didn’t rise to meet his expectations or bristle under his critiques. The fire that once kept you moving, always trying to prove yourself, was gone.

And it scared him.

Vil stepped closer, his sharpness fading as he crouched slightly to meet your gaze. “What’s going on with you?”

You finally looked up at him, your eyes hollow and tired. “I’m just… tired, Vil. I don’t care anymore. About any of it.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the perfect image of Vil Schoenheit cracked. He saw the depth of your exhaustion—the weight you’d been carrying for so long. He realized, maybe for the first time, that your relentless need to keep up with him had finally broken you.

Without a word, he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “You don’t have to keep doing this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing as the apathy began to crumble. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head. “But if I don’t, who will?”

Vil’s expression softened in a way that you rarely saw. “I’m not asking for perfection. Not from you.” He paused, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “I just want you to be okay.”

That was it. The dam broke, and tears streamed down your face as you finally let go of the weight you’d been carrying. Vil didn’t say anything more, just stayed by your side, offering a silent presence as you let yourself fall apart.

Rook Hunt:

Rook Hunt was, in every way, overwhelming. His poetic flair, his dramatic declarations of admiration, and his constant observations—usually about things you wished he wouldn’t notice—had been a source of both irritation and amusement in your life. But now, you found yourself unable to muster even the faintest reaction to his eccentricity.

He had been watching you, of course. Rook always noticed everything, and this time was no different. He approached you with a grin, as though he had a secret only the two of you would understand.

“Mon lapin! You seem to have taken on a new air of mystery, how delightful!” His voice was filled with excitement, expecting a reaction—your usual nervous laughter or maybe a shy protest.

But instead, you just stared blankly at him. “Yeah. Sure, Rook.”

For a brief second, his smile faltered, his eyes scanning your face carefully. You weren’t biting back, weren’t stammering nervously or trying to evade his intense gaze. You were just… blank.

“Something is amiss, non?” His voice softened, a rare gentleness creeping in as he knelt beside you, lowering himself to your eye level. “You’re not yourself today, mon ami.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I don’t know if I even know who that is anymore.”

Rook tilted his head, his usual theatrics fading. “Ah, you are weary… far too weary for someone so full of life.” His words were soft, his voice no longer teasing but understanding.

“I’m just… tired, Rook. Of everything.” You rubbed your face, trying to shake off the numbness, but it clung to you like a second skin.

Rook, for once, didn’t offer a poetic response or some elaborate metaphor. Instead, he reached out and gently took your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a quiet gesture of comfort. “You don’t need to explain,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “But you don’t have to carry it alone, either.”

Something in his words broke through the wall you’d built around yourself, and you looked at him, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to do, Rook. I’m so tired.”

Rook’s expression softened even further, and he smiled, a tender, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “Then rest. You are not a failure for needing time, mon lapin. Even the moon takes its time to rise.”

The tears finally spilled over, and Rook pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both comforting and protective. “You are not alone,” he whispered. “Not while I am here.”

Epel Felmier:

Epel had always admired your resilience. To him, you were someone who, despite being shy and quiet, had a certain strength that he respected. But lately, he noticed that something was different. You weren’t reacting the way you used to. You weren’t as anxious or jumpy, but… you weren’t really you either.

One afternoon, Epel found you sitting in the courtyard, staring blankly at the sky. He approached with a grin, his usual proud, determined expression in place. “You’re not lettin’ anyone push ya around anymore, huh? I’m proud of ya for that."

You glanced at him, managing a weak smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

Epel sat down next to you, his smile fading as he looked at you more closely. “But... somethin’ ain’t right, is it?”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the bench. “I’m just… tired, Epel. I don’t know how to keep going.”

Epel frowned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Tired? What do ya mean? You’re always so… strong.”

You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. “I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Epel’s frown deepened, and he scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable but trying his best to understand. “I get it, kinda. You’ve been workin’ hard, probably too hard.” He paused, glancing at you with concern. “You don’t have to be tough all the time, ya know. It’s okay to ask for help.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I don’t even know how to do that.”

Epel shifted closer, his usual rough-and-tumble demeanor softening. “Well, ya don’t have to do it alone. We’re friends, right? So, if ya need me, I’m here. Even if it’s just to sit with ya.”

For the first time in a while, you felt a flicker of warmth. Epel wasn’t the most eloquent, but his words carried a sincerity that hit you in all

Idia Shroud:

You hadn’t meant to snap at Idia. Honestly, you didn’t. But everything had been building for so long, like a pressure cooker about to blow, and when he made the comment—one that should have been harmless—it all came crashing down.

“Uh… you’re kinda different lately,” Idia had muttered, his eyes glued to his tablet as usual. His tone wasn’t accusatory, more like an observation, but the words felt like a match thrown onto the pile of kindling that had been building inside you.

Different? Was that what he thought? As if you had just woken up one day and decided to be different. As if all the stress, all the constant work and the endless expectations hadn’t eaten away at you until there was nothing left.

Your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, you snapped.

“Of course, I’m different! Do you think I want to be like this? That I’m enjoying any of this?” The words tumbled out, sharp and cutting, and you could see Idia flinch slightly, his usual wide-eyed, panicked expression flickering across his face.

He shrunk further into his hoodie, his hair dimming a little at your outburst. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“You just what?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the weight of frustration and exhaustion. “You think it’s fun being constantly overwhelmed? Do you think I like the fact that I don’t even recognize myself anymore?”

Idia blinked, his hair now a dull, nervous blue as he fumbled with the edges of his sleeves. “N-No, I—sorry. I didn’t realize—”

The sight of him looking so rattled, so unsure, finally made you pause. Your anger began to fade, replaced by a wave of guilt. He wasn’t trying to upset you—he was just being his usual, awkward self. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair as you sank onto a nearby chair.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, staring at the ground. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just… tired.”

Idia glanced up at you, his hair flickering back to a soft blue. “No, I get it. I mean… I don’t get it get it, but… I can see you’ve been stressed. I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

You looked up at him, the frustration and exhaustion still simmering under the surface but no longer directed at him. “I just… I feel like I’m falling apart, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Idia shifted uncomfortably, clearly out of his depth when it came to emotional stuff. But he nodded, his fingers tapping nervously on his tablet. “That… sounds like a total nightmare, honestly. If you wanna talk or, like, not talk… I can just sit here. No pressure.”

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for the gesture even though you knew talking wouldn’t fix everything. Still, the offer meant something, especially coming from someone like Idia, who was as socially awkward as they came. “Thanks, Idia.”

He nodded quickly, his hair flickering brighter. “Yeah, no prob.”

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho was a bright little ball of sunshine, a constant source of cheerfulness that sometimes felt like too much when you were in the state you were now. But he was also hard to ignore, especially when he zoomed over to greet you, his cheerful voice ringing out the second he spotted you.

"Hi! How are you doing today? Is there anything I can help you with?” Ortho’s voice was filled with such eager energy that it almost made you wince.

Normally, his enthusiasm would have been endearing, but today, it was just too much. You forced a tired smile. “I’m fine, Ortho. Just… tired.”

His sensors seemed to pick up on your low energy, and he tilted his head, his mechanical eyes glowing softly. “You don’t seem fine. Maybe you need some rest! Or maybe I could get you something to eat, or—”

“Ortho,” you interrupted, rubbing your temple as a wave of exhaustion hit you. “I just… I just want to be left alone for a little while, okay?”

There was a pause as Ortho processed your request. His cheerful smile faltered for a moment, and his eyes dimmed slightly, but then he nodded, his voice softening. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

You almost regretted snapping at him, but to his credit, Ortho didn’t push. Instead, he hovered nearby, his presence quiet but still there, like a little brother who didn’t want to leave your side even when you asked for space. He wasn’t overbearing—just a silent, watchful figure in the background, making sure you were okay.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him. He was still there, his eyes watching you with concern, but he hadn’t said a word since you asked to be alone.

A small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You can stay, you know. Just… maybe tone it down a little.”

Ortho’s eyes brightened, and he floated a little closer, his voice quiet and soft now. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Despite your exhaustion, you found comfort in Ortho’s presence. He wasn’t pushy or demanding—just there, offering quiet support. And for now, that was enough.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus had a way of appearing at the most unexpected times. One moment you were alone, wallowing in your overwhelming responsibilities, and the next, he was there, his presence like a calm, steady force that momentarily took the weight off your shoulders.

"You have a heavy burden," he said softly, his glowing eyes watching you with concern.

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "I don't have a choice, Malleus. I have to do it all. There's no one else."

He was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful, before he spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "You always have a choice."

His words struck you, and you looked up at him, tired and skeptical. "What choice do I have, really? If I don’t do it, who will?"

Malleus stepped closer, his large hand reaching out to gently take yours. The warmth of his touch was comforting, grounding. "I will help you," he said, his voice steady, full of promise. "You do not have to carry this burden alone. I would be honored if you would share it with me."

The sincerity in his words broke something inside of you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that, how much you needed someone to acknowledge your struggle and offer their support. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away, but it was no use.

Malleus gently pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe for the first time in what felt like forever. "I am here," he whispered. "Always."

You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears fall as you clung to him. For the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel so alone.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia always seemed to know when something was wrong, even when you tried to hide it. He found you sitting alone, your shoulders slumped, your mind racing with thoughts of everything you still had to do. The old fae’s eyes softened as he approached, crouching down to your level.

“Ah, my little rabbit, it’s important not to lose yourself in all of this,” he said gently, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. “You’ve been running yourself ragged.”

You sighed, feeling too tired to argue. “What choice do I have? It never stops.”

Lilia gave you a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling despite the concern behind them. “Even so, it’s vital to take care of yourself. If you get lost, who will be there to find you?”

You stared at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hadn’t realized how much you had lost yourself until now, how much you had forgotten who you were amidst the endless demands and expectations.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how to find myself again.”

Lilia reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You won’t have to do it alone. I’ll be there, whenever you need me. You’ve got someone who will always come looking for you, no matter how far you wander.”

The tears spilled over then, and Lilia gently pulled you into a hug, his arms surprisingly strong for his small frame. “Cry if you need to, little rabbit. It’s alright to be tired.”

You sobbed quietly into his shoulder, grateful for the comfort, for the promise that you weren’t completely lost.

Silver:

Silver was different from the others. He didn’t always have the right words, but his presence was comforting in its own way. You found him waiting for you one evening, his eyes calm and steady as always, and yet… there was a softness there that told you he understood more than he let on.

"You should rest," Silver said simply, his tone gentle but firm. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard."

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you couldn’t afford to rest, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

Silver watched you for a moment, and then, in his quiet way, he stepped closer. "I can stand guard for you," he offered softly. "While you rest. No one will bother you."

Something about the offer made your heart ache, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Silver, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but resolute. “It’s okay to let someone else take over, even if it’s just for a little while.”

His words, so simple and sincere, broke the dam, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Silver, ever so calm, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug that was both protective and comforting.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to lean on someone, feeling the exhaustion finally take over as you cried quietly into his chest.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek was the last person you’d expect to understand. When he first saw you, looking worn out and drained, his immediate reaction was his usual loud, indignant self.

"Human! How could you let yourself become so... unkempt?!" Sebek had barked, his voice echoing in the corridor. "You have responsibilities! Standards to uphold!"

You barely reacted, your energy too drained to even muster a response. You just stood there, staring at him with tired, glassy eyes. Normally, you might have snapped back at him, might have told him off for being so overbearing. But today… you didn’t even have that in you.

Sebek stopped, his expression shifting as he took in your hollow look. For the first time, he seemed to realize that something was deeply wrong. His usual bluster faded, and his voice softened, though it still held that familiar Sebek intensity. “Are… are you alright?”

It was such a simple question, and yet it broke something inside of you. You shook your head, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “No. I’m not.”

Sebek’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked completely at a loss. But then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “You… you should not bear this burden alone.”

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I don’t have a choice.”

Sebek hesitated, then awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so loud. “You do. And you must let someone help you.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Sebek, the loud and proud half-fae, was comforting you. And despite how awkward he was about it, you found it strangely reassuring.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Sebek’s grip tightened slightly, and he nodded, his eyes full of determination. “I will not let you falter.”

You smiled weakly through your tears, and before you knew it, Sebek had pulled you into a clumsy, but genuine hug. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. You held onto him, letting the tears flow, feeling a little less alone in the world.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to carry everything by yourself.

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo’s sharp eyes caught you as you wandered through the dimly lit halls, your steps slow and heavy. His brow furrowed slightly, the ever-present judgmental edge in his voice as he approached.

“You’re not really alive anymore, are you?”

It was such a blunt statement, cutting straight through the haze of your exhaustion. For a moment, you stood there, frozen, unsure if you had even heard him correctly. Then, something inside you cracked. All at once, the weight of everything you had been carrying overwhelmed you, and you felt your knees buckle.

“I’m trying,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m trying so hard, but… it’s never enough. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

You expected him to scoff, to make some cold remark about duty and responsibility. But instead, Rollo’s usually sharp expression softened. He hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure of how to proceed, but then—so awkwardly it almost startled you—he reached out and gently took your hand in his.

“I… didn’t mean to cause more distress,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You have been shouldering too much.”

The simple contact, the warmth of his hand in yours, sent a flood of emotion through you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand, your lip trembling. “I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Rollo’s grip tightened, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you fall any further. “Then perhaps it’s time to stop trying to carry it all alone.”

Neige LeBlanche:

You hadn’t expected to run into Neige when you did—his usual bright demeanor an overwhelming contrast to the exhaustion you felt pressing down on your every move. When he saw you, his eyes widened with immediate concern.

“Oh no… have you been running yourself ragged?” Neige asked, his voice soft and full of sympathy.

You tried to smile, tried to brush it off like you always did. “It’s fine, really. I’m just… tired.”

But the moment you said it, you felt the tears rising again. The weight of everything you’d been trying to handle was too much, and now, in front of someone as kind and gentle as Neige, it was impossible to keep the façade up any longer.

Neige, sensing the shift in your mood, stepped closer, his expression full of worry. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He gently took your arm, guiding you to sit on a nearby bench. “Come on, let’s rest for a bit.”

As soon as you sat down, the dam broke, and you buried your face in your hands, sobbing quietly. Neige didn’t say anything for a moment, but his presence was soothing, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug.

“You’ve done so much already,” he whispered, his voice gentle. “You deserve to rest.”

The tears came faster, but this time, they felt like a release. Neige held you, stroking your hair softly as you cried into his shoulder. He didn’t try to fix everything or offer any grand solutions. He just stayed there, offering quiet comfort, and in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

Che’nya

Che’nya’s grin was as wide as ever when he appeared beside you, hanging upside down from a tree branch like it was the most natural thing in the world. But there was something in his eyes as he looked at you, something that said he knew something was different.

“Well, well, well,” he teased, his voice lilting with amusement. “Looks like you’ve finally become like the rest of them—cynical and all that.”

His words were meant to be lighthearted, a joke, but they hit too close to home. You felt your breath hitch, the ache in your chest tightening. The teasing that once might have been playful now only highlighted the exhaustion, the bitterness you had tried to hide for so long.

“I… I didn’t want to become like this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to be so… tired.”

Che’nya blinked, his grin fading slightly as he flipped down from the branch to stand beside you. “Hey now… I didn’t mean to make you upset, little rabbit.”

But it was too late. The tears were already spilling down your cheeks, your body shaking with the weight of everything you had been holding in. You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed by how easily you had broken down.

Without a word, Che’nya crouched beside you, his playful demeanor slipping away as he gently touched your arm. “It’s alright, you know? You don’t have to hide it.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m just… I’m so tired of trying to keep up with everything.”

Che’nya gave a soft chuckle, but there was no teasing in it now. “That’s because you’re not supposed to do it all by yourself.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both comforting and protective. “You’re not alone, little rabbit. Not with me around.”

Grim:

Grim had been his usual self at first, bounding around and bragging about his latest escapades. But then he noticed how quiet you had been lately, how you didn’t respond to his antics with your usual snark. He had brushed it off at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him.

Finally, Grim came up to you, his tail flicking nervously as he tried to gauge your mood. “Hey… henchhuman. You’ve been actin’ real weird lately.”

You glanced at him, too tired to even muster a proper response. “I’m just tired, Grim.”

“Tired?” Grim huffed, crossing his little arms. “You’re always tired! But this is different, ain’t it?”

You didn’t say anything, and that’s when Grim’s expression shifted. He stepped closer, his eyes wide and full of concern. “Henchhuman… did I do somethin’? Did I make things worse?”

The sound of his worried voice, of Grim actually not being selfish for once, broke you. You had been holding it in for so long, trying to be strong, but now, with Grim looking at you with those big, worried eyes, you couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears came, fast and unstoppable, and you buried your face in your hands.

Grim panicked for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then he scrambled onto your lap, pressing his little head against your chest. “Hey, hey! Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to make ya upset!”

You sobbed harder, your hands shaking as you tried to get a hold of yourself. “I’m sorry, Grim. I’ve just… I’ve been so overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to bother you…”

“Bother me?” Grim scoffed, but there was no bite to his words. “You’re my henchhuman! If somethin’s wrong, you tell me, got it?”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face as you hugged Grim tightly. He grumbled a little, but then he nuzzled against you, his small form warm and comforting in your arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he muttered. “But you’re gonna be okay. ‘Cause you’ve got me.”

Despite everything, you smiled through your tears. Grim wasn’t perfect, but in his own way, he was trying to help. And for now, that was enough.

Crowley:

"Ah, my ever-reliable little rabbit!" Crowley called from across the hallway, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. He approached with his usual flourish, clearly in one of his grandiose moods. "I couldn't help but notice that your posture is rather… less upright than usual. No doubt due to your recent lack of respect and enthusiasm! You simply must—"

You barely looked up. Everything was gray. Crowley’s usual barrage of demands and flowery speeches washed over you like distant noise, and for the first time, you didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t care.”

The words came out before you could stop them, low and exhausted. You didn’t even bother to meet his eyes.

Crowley paused, blinking in confusion. “Pardon? Did you just—?” His voice faltered as he saw the deep bags under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped, and how utterly defeated you looked. The bravado drained from his expression as he realized just how far he had pushed you.

“Oh… oh dear,” he stammered, clearly flustered. “I… I hadn’t realized you were feeling this way.” His hands flapped awkwardly, and he shifted on his feet, the image of a man utterly lost in uncharted waters. “Perhaps I’ve… overworked you. Just a smidge! But worry not! Crowley is here to—erm—assist! Yes, assist!”

You stared blankly at him. “I don’t need assistance. I need you to stop.”

Crowley’s face fell, and after a moment of visible panic, he hesitantly reached out, patting your shoulder in what he clearly thought was a comforting gesture. “There, there… You’re very… valuable to us all. Truly. Perhaps… a bit of a break? I will—uh—take care of things while you rest. Just… please don’t break down.”

Though his attempt at comfort was clumsy and awkward, the thought behind it made your eyes well up with tears. Despite everything, he was trying.

“Okay,” you whispered, and Crowley gave an exaggerated nod, as if this small victory had restored his usual bravado.

“Very well! I’ll expect to see you back when you’re ready, my precious little rabbit. Take your time!”

Divus Crewel:

Professor Crewel’s sharp gaze pinned you the moment you entered his classroom. He noted the new tension in your shoulders, the lack of bounce in your step, and the weary drag in your eyes.

“Well, well, looks like you’ve finally grown some grit,” Crewel said, his lips curling into a smirk. “It’s about time you toughened up. I was beginning to think I had a little herbivore in my class, but I see now you’ve developed a thicker hide.”

Those words—meant to be encouragement, or perhaps a compliment—broke the last bit of strength you had left. The tears you had been holding back spilled over, and your breath hitched as you tried, and failed, to keep your emotions in check.

Crewel’s eyes widened in alarm, his smirk vanishing in an instant. “Whoa, whoa, now—what’s this?” His tone softened, and he quickly put down the lesson plan he’d been holding. He crossed the room, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t trying to push you that far.”

You shook your head, choking back sobs. “I just… I can’t anymore. I can’t keep up with everything.”

For a moment, Crewel stood there, clearly at a loss. But then his paternal instincts kicked in, and he sighed, pulling you into a firm but comforting hug. “You’ve been doing too much, haven’t you, pup? Trying to shoulder all of it on your own.”

You nodded, tears soaking into his coat, but he didn’t seem to mind. He gently stroked your back in soothing motions. “You’ve proven yourself time and again,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to break yourself to do it. Let me handle some of the load.”

His words, so uncharacteristically gentle, made you cry harder. And Crewel, despite his tough exterior, let you. “It’s okay, pup. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Mozus Trein:

Professor Trein glanced over his spectacles at you as you entered his classroom, late, looking disheveled and utterly drained. He gave a soft ‘tsk,’ his usual sternness evident. “I hope this recent behavior won’t affect your studies,” he remarked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

You didn’t even have the energy to reply, simply nodding and sitting down heavily at your desk. Trein continued to watch you for a moment, then his brow furrowed as he took in the full extent of your exhaustion—the dark circles under your eyes, the slumped posture, the way you barely moved.

He put down the parchment he’d been grading and approached you, his voice quieter, more concerned. “You’re not yourself.”

You felt tears prick your eyes, but you stubbornly kept them at bay. “I’m… trying.”

Trein sighed, and for the first time, his stern exterior softened. “You’ve always been diligent. But there comes a time when even the most diligent students need rest.”

Before you could respond, you felt a soft weight land in your lap. Lucius, Trein’s ever-grumpy cat, had jumped up onto your desk, curling up as if offering you silent comfort.

Trein gave a rare, faint smile. “Even Lucius seems to think you’ve had enough. Take some time for yourself, and… don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

It was the first time you felt truly seen in a while. And though Trein wasn’t the warmest, his quiet concern—and Lucius’s uncharacteristic kindness—were enough to make you finally exhale the breath you’d been holding.

Sam:

Sam’s wide grin greeted you as you wandered into his shop, his usual cheerful energy practically bouncing off the walls. “Well hey there, little rabbit! What brings you to my corner of the world today?”

You mustered a half-hearted smile, trying to match his energy, but it fell flat. “Just… looking.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, sharp as ever. “Just lookin’, huh? C’mon now, I know you better than that! Somethin’s got you down, I can see it from a mile away.”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it, but before you could think of a reply, Sam leaned in closer, his tone still playful but a bit more serious. “You look like you’ve been runnin’ on empty, little rabbit. What’s goin’ on?”

For some reason, the concern in his voice broke through the walls you’d been trying to keep up. The tears welled up without warning, and you bit your lip, shaking your head as if you could will them away.

Sam’s grin faltered, and his usual jokes fell silent. He quickly stepped around the counter, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey, hey… none of that now. You’re too important to be runnin’ yourself into the ground like this.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I just… I don’t know how to keep going, Sam.”

Without a word, Sam pulled you into a hug, his big arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’ve been strong for a long time, little rabbit. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with leanin’ on someone else every once in a while.”

Ashton Vargas:

“Hey! What’s up, champ?” Vargas greeted you with his usual booming enthusiasm as you dragged yourself into the gym. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, and he was clearly expecting you to give some sort of equally enthusiastic reply.

Instead, you just shrugged, your energy completely sapped. “Nothing much.”

Vargas frowned, his usually boisterous demeanor faltering slightly as he noticed how worn out you looked. “Hey, you alright? You’re lookin’ a little worse for wear.”

You tried to laugh it off, but it came out weak. “Just tired.”

“Tired?” Vargas echoed, his concern growing. “You’re a fighter! You don’t get tired, right?” He tried to give you an encouraging slap on the back, but when you didn’t respond, his smile dropped completely. “Okay, something’s really wrong.”

You sighed, the exhaustion creeping into every part of you. “I can’t keep up anymore, I’m just… done.”

For a moment, Vargas looked completely out of his depth. He wasn’t exactly the go-to guy for emotional support. But he wasn’t going to let you suffer alone either. He awkwardly reached out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Look, uh… I’m not the best with words, but… you don’t have to be strong all the time, okay? Everyone needs a break. Even you.”

His sincerity, even through the awkwardness, made your heart clench. And before you knew it, you were leaning into his surprisingly gentle hold as tears finally escaped.

“Alright, alright,” Vargas muttered, patting your back like a dad who didn’t really know what he was doing but was trying his best. “We’ll get you through this, alright? Just… breathe.”

Masterlist

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ironladders · 3 days ago

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"I circled half the globe searching for him, but he was gone."

Starscream ;_;

RIGHT?? IT'S SO SAD .

and i have sooo many thoughts about this whole situation with skyfire/starscream that's been presented to me, if you dont mind anon im gonna use your ask to ramble a little

(disclaimer im sure nothing i have to say here is particularly new & has been said by those who've been deep into TF longer than myself but i need to get this out my system anyways. and also im still watching through g1 so if im horribly mistaken about anything #oops)

unless i missed something, i don't think it's specified in "fire in the sky" how long starscream looked for skyfire?? but just thinking about that line.... he obviously didn't immediately go back to cybertron, he didn't just give up on skyfire. starscream cared about skyfire enough to look for him, only leaving after (i assume) he realized he didn't have the resources to conduct a proper search for his companion. and i mean can you imagine being starscream in that situation???? your partner just disappears into a storm, and no matter how far and long you look you're unable to find them????????

i get starscream, man. i'd also become awful if that happened to me.

and here's the thing: i stumbled upon this post which posits that the decepticons happening to stumble across skyfire in the ice was no incident, but starscream's own doing, and i LOVE this theory/headcanon so much. when i first watched the episode yesterday i was thinking that it was funny they just happen to be mining right where skyfire was frozen so it's nice to see my suspicions affirmed LMAO

i honestly love that episode so much because as i learn more about starscream and transformers as a whole i think little tidbits like that offer a deeper look into who he is (or was, idk) beyond just megatron's second-in-command. he was a scientist, an explorer, a friend. "was" isn't even the proper word here, because he still is all of those things, he just...... applies them differently, i suppose. which is the real tragedy in who he is as a character.

beyond starscream and his search for skyfire, you wanna know what i've REALLY been thinking about a lot with these two? when skyfire becomes a decepticon (for like a day lol but still), starscream immediately declares that when he overthrows megatron, skyfire will become his second-in-command. not any of the other seekers, not either of the waves, not literally anyone else who's been a decepticon for more than an hour, but skyfire. his long-lost science partner. on starscream's end, virtually nothing about his relationship with skyfire has changed. he still trusts him as much as he did millions of years ago, to the point he'd be willing to have him at his side as leader of the decepticons.

but on skyfire's end... the starscream in front of him is different from the one he knew. war and being a decepticon changed starscream for the worst, something that unveils itself very quickly to skyfire. one of the first things he asks starscream after becoming a decepticon is if starscream is genuinely happy about being a decepticon warrior over the scientist he used to be. skyfire can't believe that the person standing in front of him could be the starscream he once knew before being frozen. still, it's starscream, so skyfire ends up going along with things up until he can't ignore his morals and deny that he's on the wrong side anymore.

that is where the second tragedy happens for starscream: betrayl, by the man he'd waited to get back for so long. he finally got skyfire back, only to lose him all over again.

if skyfire had never crashed that day -- if they'd never gone closer to explore the earth in the first place -- would starscream had gone down such a dark path? would he have taken countless lives, and become the ruthless decepticon he is now? does it eat at skyfire, knowing that in his absence starscream lost who he once was? or perhaps he'd still be the same starscream, but skyfire would be at his side serving the decepticon cause. maybe they both would've been so drastically changed by the years of cybertron's war together.

skyfire is a living, formerly frozen relic of the past before everything went wrong. starscream has aged far beyond that, to the point of no return. as much as they surely both want it, and regardless of what happens to them, their bond can never go back to what it once was.

god i just. i need more!!! i need to watch more transformers and read more of the comics and see more of these two!! i watched tfp + some of the live action movies as a kid but this is my first time learning about skyfire and this thing he's got going on with starscream and it's fascinating to me i can't believe i didn't know about this before!!!!! but it's also so fucked up oh my god!!!!!

ok yeah ive gotten the brainworms out my system. idk how to end this here's screenshots i took that i found funny

#i hope skybound explores this wild thing going on btwn them in a later issue as well #considering the flashback we got + how both skyfire/jetfire and star are alive but just in uhhhhh questionable conditions... hmm #like both of them have had their autonomy stripped in some way & cant transform now #maybe it's a coincidence. but maybe It's Not #i just think it could lead to an interesting conversation #theres also the ongoing thing skybound has abt how the war rly changed the TFs & considering issue 13 i want to see sky/jetfire directly #confront that with starscream. i want to see more of the emotions he feels about star's drastic change from ulchtar #right after skyfire left everything went to shit. genvo was murdered and ulchtar died to make way for starscream #i rly do wonder if he wonders what would've happened if he stayed a few more days just like ulchtar suggested. if things would be different #man.......................#ask #starscream #skyfire #skystar

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marvel-snape-writes · 2 days ago

Note

I humbly submit a request for: heavy breeding kink Severus.

Cursed into Temptation is so well written, and the way you captured him as desperate and repressed with a need for dramatic release would just fit so well.

I hope this inspires you, but if you aren't comfortable writing it then that's all good too. ^-^

I hope you are having a nice day/evening :)

Claiming What’s Yours

Severus Snape x original female character

7.1k words+

18+ smutty Snape of the breed-kink kind 🤭

Thank you to whoever requested this! I hope I’ve done it some justice and I’m especially nervous since this is the first breed-kink fic I have ever written in my life 🫣🤣🫶

For the longest time, Severus Snape didn't believe he should allow himself to feel the amount of pleasure he had experienced over the last few weeks. Falling for the new professor only a few months back was something he never expected, but the way they had gotten to know each other over most recent weeks was something he expected even less. He would be the first person to admit how nervous he felt at the beginning, how hesitant he was to give himself over to the way she made him feel, but in this short amount of time he also couldn't deny she had brought the side out in him that he had repressed for all these years. He had gone from feeling nothing for anyone to absolute infatuated obsession for her, and she was more than happy to oblige; emotionally, physically, sexually.

Desire was not a feeling Severus was particularly familiar with prior to meeting her, though he would be lying if he said it wasn't 99% of what he felt now. The constant urge and need to be near her, touch her, claim her as his own literally any chance he could get. She helped him discover more about himself than he knew before he met her. There was a time when he couldn't even entertain the idea of being alone with a woman in that regard, but now he was having a hard time thinking of anything but. He wanted her, needed her, so much so that he now found himself constantly consumed by the idea of forever being inside her. She audibly loved the way he throbbed each time his entire length slid all the way inside her with absolute ease, and he loved the feeling of her squeezing around him when she just couldn't take the pounding of his hips anymore.

It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed the intimacy at the beginning, but the last few weeks had been unlike anything he could have imagined. It all started when they had got so lost in one another one night that they hadn't even thought about using any protection. They had attended a Hogwarts ball and been kept apart for the majority of the night, occupied by different people wanting their separate attention, but they couldn't help devouring each other with their eyes each time their gaze met across the room. The door to his chamber was barely even shut after them stumbling through it before they were desperately tearing clothes off one another’s backs. Grunts and heavy breathing radiated off the walls, hands flying all over each other, and they didn't even make it to the bedroom. The kitchen table, the counter top, and the wall were just a handful of surfaces they found themselves pressed against or bent over, held to each one by the pinning of desperate hips. Fingers frantically skimmed over skin whilst teeth clattered together from the urgency of their kisses; the desire in their bellies aflame like never before. In all the excitement and whirlwind of their craved release, it had completely slipped their minds to use any form of contraception. Before they even had time to think, Severus was plummeting his hips directly into hers completely, without any barrier of protection, without even a safety-netting spell put in place, without a care in the world for the consequence. The fire that ripped through him as he reached his climax was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was clear that she reciprocated the feeling, but it was only after the panting between them both had calmed down that they had realised why; there hadn't been a single barrier between them, not a single thing put in place to prevent a pregnancy.

It was the constant chase of that pure release that started it first; the knowing that they could only feel like that if they were to risk conceiving again. Then it was that; the risk. They both knew and had admitted previously that they did not wish to have a child, but the danger of this drove their passions even more wild. However, it wasn't long after that, that Severus’ appetite for lust changed; the knowing that she was allowing, even begging at times, for him to release his sticky climax inside her in full knowing of the consequences both good and bad — good being that they could feel every pulse and clench of pleasure they caused one another, and even the once bad being that they may end up with child was now growing less and less of a burden — was driving him insane. To know she trusted him enough to have her this way made him feral. To have at one another like two animals in heat made him feel god-like, and to be this close to her with no barriers between them was becoming even more of a want, even more than a need, it was becoming an obsession. Every time he saw her, his mind was immediately riddled with how they could sneak away to their closest option; a classroom, a potions closet, anywhere to just have their way with one another, and as the days went by, they acted upon these urges like they were ticking off some sort of sex location check list — each place more obscene than the last. Their eyes would meet across a corridor, a hall, or a classroom, and they would both know exactly what the other was thinking; when and where could they do it again?

Today was no different; his need for her was so strong that last night’s rough tumble in the sheets were almost a distant memory. They had crossed paths in the corridor earlier, Severus reached out his arm and purposefully brushed their fingers together, earning a faint smirk as she looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes fell upon a closed potions cupboard door and allowed his mind to drift to what they once got up to in there before and how he would do anything to have that right now. Even brief moments shared like these, especially when not knowing he would be seeing her again, sometimes left him wondering whether he should just lock himself away in his chamber, a potions closet, or even a staff toilet cubicle and get himself off so he could go about his day without the constant craving for release on his mind. However, nine times out of ten he would be won over by the knowing that to save it all for her would satisfy his desires much more; he went with the theory that he more he pumped into her, the more likely she would be to have his child, and to create something now as a result of their burning passion and want for one another would fulfil him more than he could ever begin to explain.

Severus spotted his chance for a brief few moments in between classes and immediately took the opportunity of approaching one of the older students, “Go and tell Professor Lillywhite that Professor Snape wishes to see her.”

The student obliged, as many would, afraid of the snide remarks they would get if they did otherwise, unless they were one of his beloved Slytherin students, of course. Severus walked back into his Potions Classroom and closed the door behind him, exhaling quietly as he began to put away the items that had been left out from the lesson before and muttering to himself about how lazy some of the students were at tidying up after themselves.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” A spine-tinglingly familiar voice broke the silence as his door opened.

“Will you ever stop addressing me like so?” Severus turned around with a brow arched.

“I thought you said that whilst we were at work, we should address each other as—” She felt herself blushing as Severus came closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Ah, but there is a momentary pause between classes at present,” He dipped his head to whisper into her ear and kissed it lightly, “Is there not?”

“Fifteen minutes?” She half giggled, placing her hands now over his large ones that were settled upon her stomach.

“Do you doubt me, Miss Eleanor?” He spoke against her neck this time and tauntingly dragged his lips down the side of it, and she could feel the unshaven scruff that was beginning to grow upon his face; they both were far too fond of fooling around in the bathroom in most recent days that he was scarcely remembering to even shave.

“N…Not at all, Severus…” She spoke in a slightly uneasy tone as a result of his lips now latched upon her neck.

“Do not doubt yourself to put me in a state where I am always ready to have my way with you, regardless of the place or timing,” He gently suckled on the crook of her neck for a few moments, one of Eleanor’s hands reaching up to tangle in his hair with a soft gasp before he spoke again, “And, most importantly, do not doubt my ability of planting my child, ourchild inside you even within those mere fifteen minutes.” His hands absentmindedly rubbed back and forth over her stomach.

“Mmm… fifteen minutes, you say?” She smirked, tilting her head up to catch his eye as she played with his hair, “I would say that its more now like… twelve.”

The fire within Severus’ eyes lit immediately from her words, already feeling the arousing challenge in the pit of his stomach. Eleanor watched as the desire flickered in his eyes, instinctively turning herself around and wrapping her arms around his neck as he leaned down to urgently press their lips together. Severus’ hands moved immediately to her dress and began to rise it above her hips as he backed her into the utility cupboard of his classroom, their kisses becoming rougher with each step they took. Eleanor’s hands slipped from his neck to his chest and then the front of his pants, smirking as her fingertips found the bump in the material. Severus instinctively pushed his hips forward and whimpered against her lips, reaching down for one of her thighs and raising it so she could hook her leg around his waist.

“Mmm… already?” She grinned when her hand cupped his clothed erection, gently squeezing him.

“Will you ever lose the tone of surprise?” He responded, pinning her against the wall by his hips and trapping her hand between them in the process and letting out a soft groan from the added pressure of her hand against his crotch.

Eleanor smirked against his lips and made quick work of unfastening his pants, pulling the crotch open and continuing to kiss him as their breathing became more and more heavy. Every move was made with pure desperation and urgency; him hitching her dress up, her popping open every button on his trousers, him lifting her leg a little further up, her fumbling with his underwear whilst he attempted to reach for hers.

“No underwear?” He asked as his fingertips slid past the hem of her dress, “Good girl.”

“I know how you like it…” Her arms snaked around his neck, “—Sir.”

Severus inhaled shakily from the tone of her voice and he reached between them, guiding himself with one hand and claiming her lips desperately as he thrust himself inside her. Eleanor squealed but knew she must be quieter than if they were in his chamber. Her leg squeezed around him and one arm raised above her head and against the shelf above as Severus wasted no time in pounding's hips upward, grunting heavily with each movement but continuing to kiss her feverishly.

“I should stand at the door as each person enters the castle and cast the muffliato charm upon them so we can have our way with one another at full volume.” He smirked against her lips, moaning in between breaths.

Eleanor could barely respond with words, so just let out a flirtatious giggle instead. She grasped onto one of the shelves overhead to try and keep herself upright whilst taking the urgency of Severus’ hips. The kiss broke briefly as she tilted her head back against the wall, but it didn't take long for Severus’ lips to find her collarbone, then her neck, kissing all the way up to her jaw before hungrily kissing her lips again with a merciless thrust that lifted her even further up the wall.

“You kiss me as if you didn't just have me for your breakfast,” Eleanor whispered against his lips with a grin, her arms now back around his neck again.

“You know that was just a taste…” He whispered back, gently tugging at her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Of…?” Eleanor taunted him, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“What’s to come,” Severus inhaled sharply, readjusting himself so he could move his hips with more ease whilst breathing against her lips and emphasising each word with a powerful thrust, “And, fuck, do I need- to- cum!”

Eleanor moaned softly and squeezed her leg around him, lightly pulling at his hair as his hips relentlessly pounded upwards. Severus’ hand trembled against her thigh as he continued to hold it lifted at his hip, his lips now moving to her neck and harshly sucking at the skin to try and muffle the sounds attempting to escape his mouth. Their bodies shook against one another with desperate want for him to explode inside her and one of Eleanor’s hands even slipped to his bottom to urge him not to stop. Her other hand reached back up to grasp onto one of the shelves above them, knocking a few glasses into each other as her fingertips turned white from how hard her grip was.

“Professor Snape?” A voice called after a few knocks at the classroom door, “Professor Snape, Sir?!” The voice grew louder.

“H—Huh?” Severus forced his eyes open, his hips still moving.

“I have those papers you asked for!” The voice said through the door, “The ones you requested to be placed on your desk before your next class!?”

“Severus!?” Eleanor’s eyes widened, hanging onto him with her arms around his neck again.

“Oh, for fu—” Severus grunted; he had hoped for the person to have given up, however, panic struck both of them when he heard his classroom door open, “Shit- fuck- ugh!” He grumbled in frustration, unsure of if his heart or his cock was throbbing harder.

He placed her foot back on the floor and exhaled deeply, trying to tuck himself away and disguise his pulsing problem the best he could as he fastened his trousers back up. His breathing remained heavy as he watched Eleanor try and push her skirt back down so it covered her properly.

“Stay. Here.” He spoke quietly but firmly, looking her up and down before turning to walk out of his potions closet.

“Ah, Professor Sna—” The young, training Professor tried to speak before Severus cut him off completely;

“My classroom, I speak first,” He snapped, trying to cover up his flustered expression, “I, for one, cannot believe that you think you have the right to burst into my classroom without awaiting my invitation.” He pointed his index finger at him.

“But, Professor, you told me- asked me, even, to come to your classroom with the papers-!” The young Professor tried to explain himself, but Snape had passed the point of any explanation.

“Perhaps I did ask for you to return those papers to me before the start of my lesson, but what I do not recall is inviting you into my classroom without my permission!” Severus’ voice raised.

“But, Professor, I knock—”

“’But Professor’ nothing!” Severus was practically shouting at this point, his cock aching as it was forced to soften in his trousers, “You barge into my room, you disrupt me, and now you throw excuses at me?”

“I—I am sorry,” The young Professor spoke in a shy tone.

“Get out.” Severus turned away from him, exhaling deeply.

“Professor?” The young man blinked hard.

“Out!” Severus spun around on his heels, pointing at the door.

Without another word, the young Professor turned and walked out of his classroom, shutting the door behind him. Severus exhaled deeply and gritted his teeth in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb and brushing his palm over the front of his pants as he glanced down to ensure the obvious bump was gone.

“You can come out now.” He cleared his throat, standing with his hands on his hips as he glanced around the room.

“That was a bit ruthless, Severus…” Eleanor spoke almost shyly as she walked out of the potions cupboard, still adjusting her dress.

“You know I don't like being interrupted.” Severus spoke flatly, turning to face her.

“I know,” She glanced at the door before leaning up to peck his lips, “It was hot.”

“Don’t…” He whispered against her lips, feeling her kiss go straight to his cock.

“Not enough time now?” She teased, looking up at him as she pulled back.

“As much as I think you are more than capable of making me cum within seconds, I think—” He began until Eleanor placed her index finger over his lips.

“Usual place after hours?” She spoke in a seductively suggestive tone, raising her eyebrows.

“Fuck, yes, please.” Severus spoke against her finger, nodding quickly, “If I can last that long.”

“Oh, you better,” She gave him more of a stern look, though a smirk crept upon her face as she walked to the door and she turned around to flash it to him, “I will know, Severus.”

Severus took a shaky breath and walked back behind his desk, gripping onto it tightly as he leaned against it, wanting nothing more than to have Eleanor upon it; legs parted and him between them, pounding away to his hearts content as she begged him to fill her up with his warm, sticky release.

‘No,’ He told himself, shaking his head as he knew the students would be arriving any second, ‘No time for thoughts like that. Just a few more hours and there will finally be no interruption. You can do this.’

The following hours felt like days and Severus was having to try his hardest to not make any mistakes throughout the lessons that filled them. How close he was to exploding inside her just moments before they were interrupted was painful, and it only made him long to be that close to her even more than usual. He wasted no time in heading in the agreed direction once the usual time was upon him, praying for the emptiness of the usual place.

He could feel his skin prickling with heat from the want of her, the need to fill her, as he walked briskly down the torch-lit corridors and then hurried up the steps in the way one would if they were being chased by a boggart. The Astronomy Tower after hours was one of their favoured locations, providing complete undercover silence until the area was filled with echoes of their own pleasure as Eleanor pleaded with him not to stop and Severus panted with desperation of reaching his climax inside her. The view of the stars from the top of the tower were a beauty to behold in their own right, but the stars they saw when their eyes squeezed shut and came apart as a result of their pounding hips were even more impressive. The sheer height of the tower made them feel like they ruled over the whole grounds when stood in their own heat after their desires had been met, like no one else mattered and no one could touch them; like no one in this world or any other had ever shared the closeness that they have when intimate with one another like this; no barriers, no preventions, just the two of them and the possibility of what could be created because of it.

He made his way to the top of The Astronomy Tower, and then he saw her. The whole beauty of the night sky encapsulated within her silhouette. As he approached closer, his eyes feasted upon the dress she was wearing — certainly not the same as earlier in the day. It emphasised everything he loved about her body.

“You must stop forcing me to make such horrible decisions, my pet…” He whispered huskily into her ear from behind.

“I’m sorry?” Eleanor grinned, enjoying the feeling of his arms now snaking around her from behind as her hands remained held onto the railings in front of her.

“Wearing things like this…” He pressed a singular kiss behind her ear, making her shiver, “I can’t decide if I want to fuck you with it on or just completely tear it off.”

“Mmm…” She bit her lip, tilting her head to the side to allow his pathway of kisses down her neck, “My apologies, sir.”

“Keep addressing me like that and this could all be over in a flash.” Severus half joked against the crook of her neck, kissing the skin delicately.

Eleanor giggled and turned her head, pressing her lips to his immediately. Severus’ arms tightened around her as he kissed her back and their eyes fell shut, each of them sighing softly against one another’s lips. Eleanor reached one arm behind her and into his hair, deepening the kiss as she tangled it between her fingers.

“I’ve been craving this…” Severus spoke against her lips, pinning her to the railings with his hips, “Goddamn the power you hold over me, Eleanor,” He inhaled sharply, “To fill you with my baby.”

“Our baby.” Eleanor squeezed her free hand over his against her stomach.

“I must have you,” He breathed heavily in between kisses, stressing his need by brushing his hardened, clothed cock against her bottom, “Now.”

Eleanor’s hand trembled over his slightly, kissing him hungrily, “Take what is yours, Severus.”

“Are you ready for me?” His voice was low, one of his hands now making its way up her inner thigh.

“I—I’m never not ready for you, sir…” She breathed against his lips, feeling her thighs tingle slightly as his hand reached the very top.

The kiss broke with a soft gasp from Eleanor once Severus’ hand made it between her legs. Quickly finding that she was still wearing no underwear, his fingers wasted no time in starting to explore. Eleanor’s mouth fell open with a breathy moan and she hung her head forward, one hand against the railing and another in his hair, each grip growing tighter every time he taunted a finger inside her.

“Mm… so good for me.” Severus growled lowly, using his free hand to reach between them and unfasten his trousers desperately, “Bend over the railing for me, sweetheart.”

Eleanor did exactly as she was told without even a moment of hesitation, both hands now holding onto the railings in aroused anticipation. Severus removed his hand from between her legs and used it to hoist her dress up a little more so he could line himself up with her properly. Within seconds he had thrust himself inside her just like the many times before with such ease. Both of their mouths fell open to let out a breathy moan simultaneously, the closeness of how they had almost lost themselves in Severus’ potion’s closet still in the forefront of their minds.

“Mm, don't hold back, baby…” Eleanor exhaled, pushing back against him.

Severus sucked on each of his coated fingers but remained silent as he leaned over her a little more, pressing his lips to her ear and murmuring into it, “I wasn't planning on it.”

Before Eleanor had a chance to even think about a response, moans were leaving her lips instead from the heavy thuds of Severus’ hips slamming up into hers, his breath still hot against the back of her neck from his grunts. He moved his hands to place them over hers on the railings and squeezed them gently, his teeth now grazing against the skin on the side of her neck. Eleanor whimpered softly as her eyes rolled back in pleasure, feeling her body trembling beneath him already.

“I must apologise,” He panted against her neck, kissing her with each harsh thrust.

“A—Apologise?” Eleanor’s voice shook, feeling the familiar warmth from before in the pit of her stomach as he angled his movements just right.

“This may all be over faster than—” He inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, “N-Normal…” His cock gave an almighty throb, “And for that, I am sorry.”

It was true, the teasing beforehand, the situation they found themselves in, in the potions closet, the way they had to stop just before they got to the most crucial part, all this pent up release was making Severus’ trained self-control a distant memory.

“That…” Eleanor turned around, kissing him hard on the lips, “Is absolutely fine.” She grinned, moaning into the kiss as his relentless hips continued.

“You must feel it with me,” He spoke shakily against her lips, removing one of his hands from hers and instead placing it back between her legs, massaging his fingers against her exactly how he knew she liked it, “Cum for me, my sweet,” He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut as his body began to tense up in pleasure, “Cum with me.”

“Mmhh-mm, Severus!” She gasped against his lips as he moved his fingers with more pressure and bucked his hips against her, his hair growing sweaty as he also tried to maintain the kiss.

“Fuck, I need to cum,” He panted desperately against her lips.

“Put your baby inside me Severus,” She moaned, kissing him again, “Please.”

“A-Agh, El—” Were the only words he managed to strangle out of his tight throat, now burying his face in the crook of her neck as his release began to shoot inside her in desperate, sticky strings of bliss.

“Y—Yes, Sev!” Eleanor whimpered in delight, the mixture of his hips, fingers, and warmth filling her also brought her to her simultaneous climax.

Severus continued to drive his hips forward like some desperate animal and made sure his fingers continued to move in rhythm for Eleanor’s pleasure, too. Both of them drew heavy breaths in between moans and Eleanor’s hands trembled against the railing, biting her lip when she felt Severus’ lips tickle up the side of her neck.

After a few long moments, Severus took a brief step back and fastened his pants back up, meeting Eleanor’s eyes with a slightly red face once he looked back up.

“That was nothing to be sorry for.” She giggled, pushing her dress back down over her hips.

“Blame how you look in that dress.” Severus’ lips curled up into a half smile, half smirk.

“How so?” She tilted her head playfully.

“I didn't even want to get it off you before you made me..” He cleared his throat to try and insinuate what he meant.

“What I would like to know, Severus,” She stepped forward and leaned up onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Is how you can try to fuck me in your potions closet, actually fuck me over the railings on the Astronomy Tower, but can't bring yourself to say, what, ‘hard’? ‘Cum’?” She giggled, pecking his lips, “Before I made you… what?”

“Enough,” Severus spoke against her lips, trying not to rise to her playful taunting, “Come to bed.”

Eleanor didn't take any convincing at all, but continued to tease him on the journey to his chamber. The backs of their hands brushed against one another and their fingers briefly intertwined absentmindedly, their beating hearts still not at complete rest from their previous activity. The door closed behind them and Severus turned to kiss her lips as he locked it, sighing softly.

“Hi…” Eleanor kissed him back, placing her hands against his chest, “Have you thought about that word yet?”

“You should know better than to tease me.” Severus squinted his eyes playfully, stepping further into the room.

“Or…” She walked two fingers up his chest, “What?”

Severus raised one of his hands and took hold of her wrist, pulling her hand away from him and playfully rolling his eyes, “You don't want to know.”

“What if I do?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes playfully, shaking her arm away from his gentle grip and watching as he walked into the kitchen to make himself a drink.

“Mother of my child, must you taunt me so?” He mumbled and shook his head with his back turned to her, “Would you like a drink?” He looked over his shoulder.

“What did you just say?” Eleanor’s lips parted slightly.

“I asked if you would like a drink.” Severus shrugged, warming his hands around his own cup as he turned around to face her.

“No, you know that's not what I meant,” Eleanor tilted her head.

Severus arched a brow, trying to play dumb.

“Before that.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Mother of my child?” Severus said nonchalantly, sipping at his cup, “Do you not like me addressing you like so?”

“Oh, no, I do,” Eleanor felt a little flutter in her chest, “But I'm yet to see a baby.”

“No…?” Severus looked at her inquisitively.

Eleanor pressed her lips together and brushed her hands back and forth over the flatness of her stomach.

“I hope you aren't suggesting I am not capable…” Severus’ tone lowered, a scowl threatening on his face.

“All I am saying is that nothing has happened… yet.” She shrugged.

“I do not think it would be wise to continue this conversation.” Severus placed the cup down on the kitchen counter and walked closer to her.

“Why, are you suggesting that you are capable, Professor?” Eleanor bit her lip, her eyes tracing up his body until they met his.

“That and more, Miss Eleanor,” He dipped his head so their lips were only millimetres apart and she could feel his warm breath against them as he repeated, “That and more.”

“Prove it.” She spoke equally close to his lips, “Why do you think I wear this tight dress you like so much? Imagine it all stretched out because of what you did to me…”

Severus parted his lips to speak but all that came out was a soft whimper, growing increasingly turned on by her words. He didn't care if he was about to be the first one who caved, he leaned in and urgently pressed his lips to hers, nudging his whole body against her from the force of it.

“This dress, hm?” She kissed him back forcefully.

“It’s not the dress,” Severus panted against her lips, “Its the person wearing it.”

Eleanor let out a breathy giggle when she felt his arousal prodding against her stomach, snaking her arms around his neck, “Mm, already?”

“This baby isn't going to make itself.” Severus snarled against her lips and tugged at her dress, their lips smacking back together even harder this time.

“Take me to bed.” She whispered lowly against his lips, gently pushing him in the direction of his bedroom.

“With,” He swiftly lifted her up into his arms bridal style, “Pleasure.”

Thankfully he didn't trip on his way since neither of them let up on the kisses, her eyes closed completely and his only briefly open. The smell alone from his bedroom always brought back hundreds of memories for her; their first time, their last time, all the times in between, whether it was soft and gentle for hours on end or desperate and rough, this was the place above all others that they preferred.

His large four post bed was covered in silky black sheets and two pillows for each of them — she loved how he always personalised her comfort. Even to the way he delicately laid her down upon the sheets as if she were made of glass. Eleanor’s arms remained around his neck and she pulled him down with her, her hands now tangling in his hair. Severus placed both his hands at either sides of his head and lowered himself over her, their tongues now touching with each urgent kiss.

“Off,” He grunted, now pulling at her dress again, “I’ve had you in this dress, now I must have you out of this dress.”

“Be my guest.” Eleanor grinned and pushed him off her gently so she could stand again and guided his hands to the zip on her dress.

She could feel his hands trembling in anticipation as he found the zip but gasped when she felt how urgently he pulled it down, peeling it off her skin. Eleanor made quick work of the buttons of his own clothing and each of them discarded their clothing on the floor until they were stood completely in the nude. She could already feel the warmth of his arousal radiating against her, curious fingers exploring each other’s bare bodies as they made their way under his bed sheets despite caressing each other god-knows how many times before.

“On your back, darling,” He whispered against her lips, kissing them lightly now as they laid on their sides to face each other, “I want to look at you while I am breeding you.”

“Yes, Professor.” Eleanor obeyed, rolling onto her back and gazing up at him.

“What are you… to me?” He asked, looking down at her as he leaned over her.

“Your lover?” She asked after a kiss.

He then kissed her again and then spoke, “And?”

“Your mistress?”

“And?”

“The mother of your child?”

His kiss was harder this time, his body now completely on top of hers, “And?”

“Yours?” She rested her hands against his lower back, “All yours.”

“Yes,” He inhaled sharply as he pushed himself inside her, kissing her again, “Good girl.”

Eleanor lifted her legs to hook around him and allow him to slot himself between her with even more ease, moaning against his lips at the feeling of him filling her up again. Severus’ eyes immediately closed and he wasted no time in starting to move his hips, though kissing her with more meaning than desperation this time. Eleanor helped guide his hips as her hands remained at the bottom of his back, tilting her head to the side to allow his lips to latch onto her neck.

Barely even minutes in, and she could already feel his cock pulsing each time he thrust in and out of her, making her whimper out his name as her eyes rolled back in pleasure. His lips latched onto her neck and he sucked on her skin as if a vampire to his prey. Eleanor dug her nails into his skin and arched her back as his thrusts picked up a merciless pace, breathing heavily against her neck as she moaned out his name several times. The chanting of his name only made him strive to be even more rough with her, the headboard now sounding around the room as it slammed against the wall.

“Fuck, Severus…” She gasped in pleasure, spreading one of her legs out completely to help ease the ever-growing pounding of his hips, “D-Don’t you dare stop…”

“To stop would not be to breed you, my pet…” Severus spoke huskily into the crook of her neck and flicked his tongue against her sensitive skin before raising his head to look down at her beneath him.

Eleanor lost her breath as she gazed up at his animal-like form through her heavy eyes. She loved for him to claim her like this; make her his in his bed. Sure, sneaking around in potions closets and empty classrooms had a certain thrill to it, but nothing compared to how he had his way with her behind definite closed doors. His caresses would be so possessive, yet so gentle. Their kisses would grow more passionate than ever, barely even coming up for breath until they were blue in the face. He would always want to be above her — to assert his dominance and intimate protection whilst looking in her eyes.

“H—Harder…” Her words were barely audible, the air in her lungs being pumped out by his hips.

“Sweetheart, I plan on making you forget your own fucking name,” He leaned down to press a harsh kiss to her lips, almost as if in punishment for even questioning his performance, “When you can no longer walk,” He paused from speaking briefly as his hips bucked up against hers, “And only then,” She swore she felt his cock break through into her stomach, “Will I be satisfied that I have fucked you hard enough.”

“Fu…” Her attempt of words trailed off into silence as she felt Severus’ hands move down to her thighs and part them as far as they would go.

“Would that be okay, princess?” He spoke lowly, gazing down at her with her thighs spread wide in his grip.

“I— I beg you not to stop, Severus!” She whimpered, “Please!”

“What do you want me to do instead?” He narrowed his eyes, his expression screaming how aware he was of the power he held over her — power she willingly allowed him to have.

“Claim me, make me yours,” She rambled, throbbing with want from his now still hips, “Fill me,” She inhaled sharply and quickly, watching as the fire in his eyes grew even more, “Use me as a place to release it all, Severus…” Her hands trembled, leaning up on her elbows, “The one way you know you can me me truly yours.”

“And how might that be, hm?” He tilted his head, unsure how much longer he could hold himself back now.

Eleanor reached up and brought him down into a rough kiss, growling against his lips, “Breed. Me.”

Severus felt as if he could lose himself from that command alone, and, quite frankly, struggled not to. Instead, he kissed her back, but only once, before raising himself up a little further again with her thighs still in his grip and starting to plunge his hips up into hers as hard as he possibly could without breaking through the wall to next door. Eleanor threw her head back in pleasure, her mouth wide open in order to allow countless moans flow out. Severus hung his head forward, his now sweaty hair falling over his face and swishing back and forth in time with his thrusts. He grunted each time his length shoved all the way inside her, his hands growing clammy against her thighs as they remained in his grip. The pleasure surging through him made him feel god-like, knowing how Eleanor gave herself over to him like this with no barriers between them, the utmost wordless way of giving herself to him by begging him to put a child inside her and ultimately binding them together forevermore.

“Oh, fuck, Eleanor,” He pressed his lips together firmly, feeling his hands beginning to slip, “You are going to be the fucking death of me.”

“Not before you become the father of my child.” Eleanor replied breathily with her head still hung back in pleasure.

“You want that?” Severus panted, never tiring from hearing him tell her.

“What gave it away?” Eleanor spoke as she raised her head again, catching his eye line.

Severus felt the heat in his stomach begin to rise and he suddenly dipped his head again, their teeth clattering as their lips crashed back together. His hands fell back to her sides again and her legs naturally wrapped themselves back around his body, keeping him as close as possible but still allowing the full thrust of his hips.

“Severus, I have one question…” Eleanor spoke against his lips, pulling his bottom lip out slightly.

“W—What, now!?” Severus narrowed his eyebrows, unable to stop the slamming of his hips as if they were now moving of their own accord.

“Why is it that you insist on black bedding when you know you’re going to cum so much that it's going to spill out of me and onto them?” She spoke seductively, smirking against his lips as one hand slid into his hair and the other slid down the back with her nails.

“Mmmh… Jesus fucking Christ…” Severus whimpered, feeling the pleasure starting to overcome him as a result of her words, “I’ll just have to make sure I fuck you deep enough so that it all remains inside you.”

With that, he pushed himself even harder than he thought he could go, and within seconds he knew he was about to explode. He continued to drive his hips forward in rhythm with Eleanor’s moans, his own growing more and more high pitched and breathless as his orgasm continued to climb up his body like wildfire.

“Sev—!”

“E—Eleanor!”

The feeling of Severus’ climax shooting inside her with each deep thrust was more than enough to tip Eleanor over the edge. Their kisses were completely clumsy, their tongues touching sloppily as their hips continued to move agains each other to desperately ride out their joint pleasure. Severus felt like fireworks were exploding throughout his body as strings of release continued to pour inside her, Eleanor now squeezing her legs around him even tighter to keep him as close to her as possible.

“Severus, baby, mm!” Eleanor whimpered, her hand shaking in his clammy hair as she did her best to keep their faces in line with one another.

“O—Oh, fuck, that feels so good…” Severus panted hard against her lips, still feeling the need to keep his hips moving despite practically emptying what felt like his entire bodyweight inside her, “So good…”

“That’s it,” She grinned, kissing him again as both of her arms wrapped themselves around him.

Severus’ hips very gradually came to a stop and he let out a shaky breath against her lips, smiling softly as the kiss broke. Their eyes met and the once lit animal-like desire in his were now replaced with genuine admiration and love.

“That was unlike anything I have ever experienced,” Severus exhaled slowly, the both of them still struggling to catch their breath, “You are everything.”

“You do such a good job of claiming what’s yours, Severus.” Eleanor spoke as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Mine,” He spoke against her lips, “Mine,” He spoke against her neck, “Mine,” He spoke against her collarbone, “Mine, mine” He spoke against each of her breasts, lowering himself, “Mine,” He kissed each of her thighs as his head disappeared under the sheets, and Eleanor lifted them up slightly so she could watch him this time as his lips brushed against her stomach, gazing up into her eyes, “Mine.”

---

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bonwonnie · 2 days ago

Text

Three Weeks.

ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

WC 1.3k

Pairing ⨾ best friend heeseung x reader

Contents ⨾ ft. Heeseung's cologne, fluff, clumsy kissing, banter, angst if you squint, stoic to cute Heeseung, best friends to lovers, back hug, Heeseung teaches yn how to use a controller, they're in love

Synopsis

Your best friend has let his stoic expression slowly slip. You cant quite place your finger on why, but you first noticed his softened gaze three weeks ago— after a house party. Although, you feel like there’s something about that day he’s not telling you.

Notes My first official fic! I've been writing for a while now but I've only recently got on en-tumblr. Critique is welcomed and I'd love to take some requests! Don't be shy to send me an ask! :)

Reblogs and likes are really appreciated 🥹

𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝒆♡

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

⋆𐙚 You never knew what was on your best friend's mind. As painful as it was to sit there— without so much as an eyebrow raise slipping from his stone cold expression— Heeseung didn't want you to know what was on his mind either.

At least, that's how you would've explained him three weeks ago.

You're not sure what's changed, but ever since you invited yourself to that house party a few weeks prior, you noticed his once stoic expression— had dwindled into something much softer. His small glances to you when you sat beside each other, always offering his house up as a hangout, finding any excuse to touch your hands—none of it went unnoticed.

“So, what? I just sit here and shoot a bunch?" You scoff, your fingers wrestling with the buttons on Heeseungs' controller

Heeseung watched as the small character you begged him to customize ran around the screen, looking just as confused as you.

“No,” he grinned, shifting his weight to sit closer to you on his bed. “Here, I'll show you.”

Before you could even hand him the controller back, his arms slid around yours— completely caging you against his frame. His hands fell overtop of your own, his grip firm as he guided your hands to the right buttons.

“This is the shoot button." You didn't even pay attention to which button he pressed your finger into. All you could focus on was his breath against your ear. “And this is run.” Your shoulders stiffened, and your back straightened against his chest; mindlessly nodding along. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and smell his cologne; which you had the scent of ingraned into your mind. It was the expensive cologne he only wore to parties. Lucky for you, the strong scent made it easy to find him in a crowd.

It wasn't until his big, bambi eyes met yours, that you even realized you had been staring at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just—” You couldn't stop a small, teasing grin from pulling at your lips. “Are you wearing cologne?”

Sure, a party would explain why Heeseung smells like ocean water and timberwood. But a day in with his best friend, that he invited to his own house to play video games with? You both knew that didn't make sense at all.

His brows raised in surprise, cheeks flushing as if he had been caught like some criminal. The Heeseung you knew three weeks ago would've let go of you by now. That Heeseung also wouldn’t have made his excitement to take your hands in his so obvious. You could see right through his big eyes and parted lips. But unlike before, it felt like he wanted you to see through him.

“You said you liked it.” His arms loosened around yours, and that dimple you so loved had disappeared. “Do you… do you not?”

“When did I say that?” You felt his eyes scanning you, studying every minute movement of your facial muscles. “I mean, I do like it, I just don't rembe—.”

“At the party.” His face dropped, and the warmth of his chest that was previously pressed against your back— disappeared. The fan in his room blew hard, and you heard the low hum echoing through your mind as you tried to wrap your head around the change in atmosphere.

“oh.”

Your mind reeled in an attempt to bring up the memories of that night. But you barely remembered it the morning after; you surely don't remember it three weeks later. You studied his face just as he studied yours. And just like that, his expression became completely unreadable again.

Did you say something wrong at the party? Surely not, he would’ve told you a lot sooner if that was the case. If anything, you said something right— considering these past three weeks you felt closer to him than you have your whole friendship. Then why is he acting so strange?

“So, I guess you don’t remember trying to kiss me then.”

The low hum of the fan made up for your stunned silence. Heeseung didn’t even look at you; and you’re thankful he didn't see your beat-red face and slack jaw.

"Maybe I was, uh, getting the wrong idea.” He scratched the back of his neck; the close distance between you was now uncomfortable. He shifted his weight back to his original seating, and you felt your heart drop.

Everything that happened between the two of you, it all played through your mind. Not from the party. But from the three weeks between then, and now. All of the glances, all of the touches, the grins, the head tilts, the eye contact, the excuses to come over— it all made sense.

And you realize that all of it; is because of you.

Because you did, in fact, know how to play this game, as much as you liked to pretend you didn't. And Heeseung knew you did, too. But he didn't mind using your feigned ignorance as an excuse to be close to you.

“So, did we?” Your voice caught in your throat, closing the distance between the two of you on the bed. And you saw his shoulders relax at the gesture. Your knees touched, and you felt the familiar warmth of his body close to yours again. It was a feeling he must’ve missed too, because he leaned in closer to you as you spoke. "Kiss, I mean."

And in that beautiful smile of his, you saw a beam of hope being restored to his body.

“key word, 'trying' to.” He grinned, holding back a snort. Though, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out one of your own.

“Well, why didn’t you want to kiss me back?” You nudged him with your knees. Heeseung looked off, pretending to think.

“I guess, I was waiting for the right time.”

“And when would that be, Romeo.” That, made him let out a snort.

Although, when he turned his attention back to you, you felt a whole shift in his demenor. His half-lidded eyes stayed focused on your lips. And with that single glance, you already knew the answer.

His hand cupped your face, pulling you in to meet him halfway.

“Right now.” And just as easily as he held your hands in his minutes ago— he pressed his lips into yours.

You completely melted in the kiss, your hands trailing up his arms to feel his warmth against you. He wrapped them around you like earlier, pulling you flesh against him greedily. It felt as if he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life, and you couldn't deny that you felt the same.

His nose pressed against your cheek, and your heads tilted to feel as much of each other as possible. You felt him smile when you bumped teeth— and you pulled away to let out a giggle of your own. But the two of you never let your grip falter. Firm hands stayed around your waist; and you toyed with the end of his sleeve.

This time, the hum of the fan was welcomed as you two took each other in.

"Well, I’d say that was worth the three-week wait.” His big, beaming smile revealed his dimple. And he committed the sight of you in his arms to memory.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, the controller you had set on his bed started buzzing uncontrollably. Both of your heads whipped to the screen to see your small character swarmed by evil spiders.

“Noo! It took me so long to make her!” You yelped, snatching the controller in an attempt to save your character from her tragic death. But in your panic, you smashed the buttons, and she shot randomly in all directions. So, all you could do was watch as the character you spent two hours creating fell to the ground, completely swarmed.

“Maybe you should’ve paid attention when I was showing you the controls.” Heeseung only laughed at your overly dramatic reaction, elbowing your side playfully.

You look Heeseung up and down, a smug grin pulling at your lips. You scooted closer to him and held the controller up at the ready.

“Well, maybe you’ll have to show me again.”

*°:⋆xo, bon

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝐸𝑁𝐻𝑌𝑃𝐸𝑁

#heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic #lee heeseung #enhypen fic #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #best friends to lovers #heeseung fluff #fluff #enhypen fluff #heeseung x you #enhypen heeseung #evan lee #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x you

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 2 days ago

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On Galadriel’s Whitewashing by the Fandom

Allow me to rant. Because at this point I really have to ask this: what show have you all been watching? Many say that Sauron deceives the audience, but it was actually Galadriel who deceived you all, really.

In Season 1 and Season 2, we saw Galadriel using others left and right, for her own ends (including Halbrand, Míriel, Adar, etc.). Her character introduction in Season 1, was her beating the sh*t out of some kids over a paper boat. Then, we saw her treating her companions’ lives as if they meant nothing to her. This alone should tell you something, but no, you wanted to see the “feminist hero” that never was. She was acting like... Sauron, when he ditched the humans on the raft.

Nah, you think?

Throughout Season 1, she was arrogant, high on herself and downright offensive to pretty much every character she came across. She was constantly acting as if she was better than everyone else, and others were beneath her, because of her delusions of grandeur. She disobeys Gil-galad over and over again because she doesn’t truly recognize his authority. He’s younger than her, and in her mind she’s the one who should be High Queen of the Noldor, because she’s the only surviving child of High King Finarfin. She lied and manipulated others to her own ends... like Sauron.

When your ways of manipulation are more radical than Sauron’s.

Allow me to say this once more: “Rings of Power” has Tolkien experts to assist with the writings of the scripts. Christian doctrine and preaching is a huge deal on Tolkien’s work, and even if the show producers don’t see it or don’t recognize it, it’s still there because it’s inevitable, you can't work Tolkien without it.

What does this mean? Galadriel is not a hero. Pride and greed are not good traits in Tolkien lore. She’s not one of the “good guys”. Not yet, and she’ll only get worse before she gets better. She’s not a villain, either; she’s an anti-hero like Adar. Why do you all think Satan’s little helper Sauron got so interested in her, in the first place?

When Sauron of all characters gives you the side-eye and tells you to chill and tone down your antagonistic behavior.

And was she deceived by Sauron or did she deceive herself? Because Elrond, as usual, is right, and that’s why he calls her out on her bullsh*t in Season 2: Galadriel wanted the lost king who could ride her to victory, to destroy Sauron and cover herself in glory, being worshipped by everyone on Middle-earth as its savior. She wanted to use Halbrand as a pawn in her big plan, and it’s mind blowing she actually fell in love with him. Does this ring any bells? It’s because it’s Sauron’s plan, too. They are alike. Everyone agrees, but doesn’t realize just how much.

You think they showed us these glorious shots of them for “good” reasons? This is the first of Mairon’s deceptions on Season 1, another step closer to evil and his old ways. This is them high on power and on themselves.

Gil-galad foresaw that Galadriel would bring back Sauron if her pursuit for him would to continue. That’s why he sent her back to Valinor, in the first place. Guess what? He was right. It was Galadriel’s actions that condemned Middle-earth to Sauron’s tyranny. In the legendarium, the Elves are also the ones to blame. And what consequences did she faced for this? Enduring Elrond in charge for two episodes until she went rogue? Or perhaps the Valar have already banished her, and the show failed to mention this.

Preach it, brother!

Elrond was also the only character who could see through Sauron’s “rings of power” masterplan (must be that Melian’s Maia blood kicking in), until he was deceived himself, as well, and now he also thinks the rings are a good thing. Because these rings allowed the Elves to “cheat death” and stay where they don’t belong. “Rings of Power” made this point very clear in Season 1: the Southlanders don’t want the Elves on their lands, they are invaders.

In truth, all of these characters are not only Sauron’s accomplices, but are feeding off his power, but they are acting as if they are the “good guys” here, and they need to save Middle-earth from the new Dark Lord. No wonder the Valar told them to f*ck off, and only sent a few helpers who didn’t even dealt with Sauron directly, even though they (being Maiar themselves) had the power to do that.

Long story, short: for the love of Eru, stop whitewashing Galadriel’s character, or believing her to be some sort of “Virgin Mary” nonsense type of character. Or if you actually think her behavior is somehow heroic I don’t even know what to tell you, honestly. Because it’s not suppose to be. And if you were upset with her “toning down” in Season 2, oh boy, I might have bad news for you.

We should appreciate Galadriel’s character for what it is; an anti-hero seeking redemption. She f*cks up a lot, is flawed, and makes huge mistakes, and that’s what will make her character arc feel earned and compelling. In that way, she’s the opposite of Sauron; as he falls into evil, she raises up to good; the Lady of Light and the Dark Lord. This is actually refreshing in the midst of so many boring-ass one-dimensional female characters we see nowadays, an ideal of perfection no one can relate to.

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #galadriel x halbrand #rop galadriel #galadriel rop

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changbunnies · 2 days ago

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Revelation (18+)

♡ Pairing: Vampire Priest!Jeongin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by midnight mass (tv), horror themes, vampire / human relationship, smut, possibly dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: The suspiciously young and extremely handsome priest of your small-town church has a very big secret– and it's not until he's sinking his fangs into your neck that you discover what exactly that secret is.

♡ General Warnings: usage of typical vampire abilities (increased senses, strength, etc), descriptions of blood, religious themes (specifically catholicism focused), references to religious guilt + shame, reader does not trust jeongin at all (for good reason lol), very blatant manipulation, cult vibes? jeongin basically has the whole town under his thumb so. do with that what you will lol

♡ Smut Warnings: dubcon, vampire venom that acts as an aphrodisiac, sexual acts inside a church (specifically in a confessional booth), some gendered language (dirty + good girl), dom/sub dynamics, dom!jeongin, biting + blood drinking, thigh riding, fingering (f rec), a lil bit of praise kink, corruption kink?

♡ Notes: this is possibly niche but well. the vampire priest concept lives rent free in my head thanks to midnight mass, and innie said he wanted to be a priest + he'd definitely be a sexy vampire so here we are lmao. and sorry i'm suddenly posting out of age order for my late kinktober fics but i ended up finishing this before the other members i still have left :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There's something that isn't right about your local church's head priest. Firstly, his age doesn't make sense; who on God's green earth becomes a priest in their 20s?

At least, you assume that's around how old Father Yang, who notably prefers to be called Jeongin, is– you've never been told, and you've never asked, but he certainly doesn't look any older than that.

Secondly, why are his sermons always at night? In all the towns you've ever lived in, in all the churches you've ever frequented, this is the first time you've ever experienced your standard, weekly Sunday service routinely happening at 9 p.m.

And thirdly, why is it that everyone who meets with him for confession comes back looking delirious and.. euphoric, almost? You don't get it– sure, confessing your sins is freeing; asking for and receiving God's forgiveness is among the best feelings that can be experienced if you're a devout believer, but still.

Something about all of it just doesn't sit right with you– and to make matters worse, you seem to be the only person in town suspicious of him. You're new to town, have only been here a handful of months, so you get it– you're the outsider, you don't know him like they do, et cetera, et cetera.

But how can not a single other person in town be bothered by how strange it all is? There has to be an explanation– you don't know what it is, and you don't know why you're the only one who seems to care, but there must be a reason.

It's Sunday again, and you spend the entire sermon watching Jeongin like a hawk, trying to catch any sign as to what it is about him that has all these people so enraptured. And while it's not necessarily wrong for him to be, another thing that strikes you is that he's easily the most casually dressed yet stylish priest you've ever met.

He wears the standard clergy vest and rabat, as he should, but over it is a leather jacket, and he wears denim blue jeans instead of dress pants. His shoes are sleek and polished, he has pretty, ornate rings decorating his fingers, has expertly styled slicked hair and silver earrings dangling from his pierced ears.

Again, it's not necessarily wrong, but it's definitely something you wouldn't think a priest's Sunday best would entail. And maybe that's only because the priests in your life have only ever been old, and didn't put much thought into style, but maybe that's what people like about him?

Maybe it makes him seem more down to earth and approachable; maybe it's easier to confess your sins when, outstanding devotion to God aside, he seems like as ordinary a person as any other. Of course, that's logically always the case, but some priests have an intimidating "holier-than-thou" attitude about them, and it certainly helps Jeongin's case that he seemingly makes an effort to not give off that vibe.

And admittedly, he's charming– there's something so uniquely handsome about the way he smiles while preaching God's word, how his eyes twinkle while he recites a scripture and relates it back to a point he made several minutes prior; you can't deny that it's enthralling.

But when he looks over the attendees lined in the pews, it always feels like he's looking straight through you, seeing to the depths of your soul and laying it bare. It gives you chills, honestly; makes you feel exposed in a way that's indescribable; like with a glance alone, he knows all your secrets, your every sin, down to their most minute details.

It's near midnight when his sermon ends; you stay seated in the backmost pew to the left, brows furrowed as everyone shakes his hand or hugs him, thanking him for another "terrific service." It's so bizarre– and it's not until the last of the congregation exits the small, wooden church that you begin to rise from your seat.

Though you're sure the church carries electricity and that the lights can be flicked on, the priest never does so– he always uses candles, casting a warm yellow glow on the dingy, white wood of the walls. It casts more shadows, gives the place an almost unsettling air– and when he turns to you, just as he's closing the Bible in his hand and setting it down, it sends a shiver through you.

"You're still here," Jeongin smiles at you from where he stands before the altar, centralized at the head of the church. It's a kind enough one, but you don't trust it; you can't shake the feeling that something lies beneath it– something abberant and dark that you can't place, but are certain is there.

"Do you wish to confess?" he asks, motions to the confessional booth with his hand as he tilts his head. "No," you answer, perhaps too quickly– and his smile grows ever so slightly, as if he's amused. At least, that's how you perceive his expression; and it makes you narrow your eyes at him, the distrust that radiates off you certainly palpable.

Your opinion of him is no secret, really; and he can tell you're scrutinizing him, trying to catch him in whatever act you think he's playing– it won't work, but it does humor him that you're trying. He doesn't know what sort of wild conclusions you've come to about him, but if you see anything, it'll be because he himself wanted you to see it– until then, you won't learn a single thing about who he truly is.

"Is there a reason you're still here then?" Jeongin questions next, and you swallow, hesitant to answer. Admittedly, you only stuck around in case someone did decide to go confess to him– you intended to eavesdrop, to try to listen in and find out what's really going on behind closed curtains.

It would've been massively immoral, but you would've confessed and asked for forgiveness later– privately, that is. You have no intention of seeking the Father's help in such matters, given how little trust you have towards him.

But still, despite the fact that you were willing to sneak around and listen to private conversations, you aren't entirely willing to lie in the house of God– so after some internal grappling with yourself on what you should and shouldn't do in this position, on what is right and wrong, you end up admitting the truth.

"I don't trust you," you tell Jeongin plainly, and you can swear you see him trying to suppress a smirk.

"I'm aware," he says, so matter of fact that it almost sends you reeling. And it's not that you were so disillusioned into thinking you weren't being obvious; you know very well that you weren't being the most covert in your suspicion of him– it's how unbothered and amused by it he seems to be that really gets you.

Shouldn't he be offended? Question your reasoning? Try immediately to dispel your doubts and clear up any misconceptions you may have? Instead, he seems more than ready to just accept it for what it is– even seems entertained by it.

"Does it not bother you that I don't trust you?" you ask, and he almost laughs as he shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for it to," he answers simply; and before you can ask why, or what he means, he's already answering– you suspect he could already tell you were going to press him on the matter.

"God teaches us to love one another. So even if you do not love me, or trust me, I love you, just as God instructs me to," Jeongin smiles as he speaks, and again, your brows furrow. It's a perfect answer, really– but it feels.. inorganic, almost rehearsed.

And the glimmer in his eye throws you off; it doesn't feel like the pure, honest delight you'd see on a priest putting God's word into practice. It feels mischievous, deceitful– like he doesn't believe an ounce of what he's saying, but he wants you to believe that he does.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, and you swallow, stiffening where you stand as he continues, "And if you really want to know what goes on during confession, want to see for yourself what it is I do to help the people who look to me, I can show you."

If you're being entirely honest, the offer is tempting; and strangely, it also makes you feel.. bad, almost– makes you second guess yourself. Because if he's freely offering like this, surely it can't be whatever you've been making it out to be in your head.

There's no way he'd out himself, and whatever it is he does, just to gain the trust of one person out of hundreds who doesn't believe his pure intentions. And maybe the other townsfolk really do trust him for good reason; maybe you've just been examining the situation and looking at Jeongin and the church in the wrong light.

Maybe you've been blowing everything out of proportion with obscene assumptions, and maybe he really is just a good priest. Maybe he makes you feel so seen, heard, and whole, that all your worldly problems melt away, feel trivial and light in comparison to God's plan for you.

Because after all, you are the outlier here. You're the only one in the whole town that doesn't trust him; and surely that means you're the one in the wrong. Jeongin does things differently than you're used to, but that doesn't mean he's inherently bad. And maybe you should confess– ask God to forgive you for not being receptive to the word of one of His servants.

Jeongin smiles when you concede and start to slowly step your way to the confessional. You pull back the curtain, step inside and prepare to sit in the small, wooden booth seat, but you quickly realize he's followed you inside. You gasp as you turn around, back pressing against the intricately carved hardwood window of the booth as he closes you in.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be on the other side?" you ask, much too meek for your liking. It's a cramped fit given that the booth is only meant to fit a single person on either side at a time; it makes you unconsciously hold your breath as you're effectively caged inside the booth with him– nowhere to go, and nothing you can do but stare at him, bewildered.

"No," he answers as quick and simple as before, his smile once again growing ever so slightly. And maybe you could push him, try to dart past him if you manage to successfully make him topple back, but you feel frozen– because even in the dark, barely lit confessional you're in, you're certain that you see his dull canines become long, pearly white fangs.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a second," he assures you as he brings his hands to your arms, gripping them just below your shoulder as he leans towards you. You shudder, his breath fanning your ear as he inches towards your neck, "but after that– it's bliss."

You feel the sharp points of his teeth poke at your skin, and it makes you gasp as your head tilts to the side, making room for him to sink his fangs into your flesh. Instinctively, your hands search for something to grab; you end up reaching for his shoulders, twisting your hands in his leather jacket to ground yourself as his sharp teeth pierce into your neck.

Your legs wobble, and he forces one of his own between your thighs, uses it to keep you upright as he drinks from you. And there is pain, but it really is only for a second, just like he said it’d be– within seconds it melts away, and oh, you instantly understand.

It’s much, much more than bliss– it’s ecstasy, it’s rhapsody, it’s the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Spreading from your neck to every last nerve ending in your body, every atom of your body becomes alight with euphoria as his bite sends tingles throughout you, raising goosebumps along your skin.

You cry out, an embarrassingly loud sound that you barely recognize as your own voice as one of your hands finds its way to his head. Your fingers thread into his hair, hold him to your neck as if you don't want him to ever separate from you– and to be fair, maybe you don't.

It feels so good, so exhilarating, intoxicating, that you almost don't want the sensation to ever end. Jeongin meanwhile lets out delighted hums, eventually slowly retracting his fangs to latch his lips around the sensitive, bruising skin, his tongue lapping away at the blood that pours from the two little marks left behind.

The beating of your heart quickens, breaths quickly growing labored as the inexplicable want continues to seep into your veins. Your thighs tremble as tension builds deep in your gut, and they try to press together to seek relief, but Jeongin's leg stays firmly nestled between yours, preventing it.

And were you not so utterly blissed out, maybe the incessant, desperate throbbing of your pussy would make you feel ashamed– but all you can think about is the deep seated desire overtaking every receptor, every tiny cell, every molecule within you, as if the very chemistry that makes up your being has been altered for Jeongin alone.

Unable to resist, you rut against his thigh, entirely shameless and feverish– because it's all you have access to, all you can do to relieve the growing ache between your legs. It’s sinful, your growing lust is– and the last place you should ever be doing this is inside of a church; but you’re too far gone to care, too gripped by the need for stimulation.

Jeongin lets go of your arms, reaches between your bodies to hike up your church gown, giving you easier access to his lean, muscular thigh. He’s gracious, tugs your soaked panties to the side so your clit can catch on the denim of his jeans– and the delicious friction makes you moan for him, loud and sweet.

He pulls away from your neck to watch your desperate humping, eyes gleaming with mischievous satisfaction as he watches you pleasure yourself on his thigh. His eyes are perfectly adapted to seeing in the low light, and so he can easily see every little detail of you– from the mess your pussy leaves behind on his jeans, to the sweat beginning to drip down your temple, to the trembling of your bottom lip before you tuck it between your teeth.

And when he smiles at you now, it’s like the fox that got the rabbit; even in the extremely dim candle light you can see the way your blood coats his lips, messily dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His dark eyes are gleaming– because he has you ensnared, and you both know there’s no going back.

You untangle your fingers from his hair, and you watch as he reaches for your falling hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He holds your gaze as he kisses over the pulsing vein, and it makes your breath hitch, the blood on his mouth smearing over the surface of your skin, staining it crimson.

“Should I bite you here too?” he asks, placing another kiss over your vein before he shoots you a grin full of fang, “you’re so delicious– I want to taste you even more.” You gasp and squirm as Jeongin presses the tips of his bared fangs against your skin– not quite biting just yet, but it’s enough to spread another wave of tingles over your body.

“Yes, bite me, please!” you cry, voice almost frantic in its urgency– and you can see the corners of Jeongin’s lips twisting into a devious smile before he’s obliging, burying his fangs deep into your wrist within an instant. You wince, your fingers clenching as he squeezes your wrist in his hand, keeping it tightly pressed to his mouth.

And just as before, within seconds the sharp sting dulls and ebbs into incomparable pleasure, goosebumps spreading over every inch of your heated skin. Faintly, you can see your blood dribble past his lips, slowly flowing down the length of your forearm before it drips to the floor of the booth.

You can just barely see his tongue licking over his bite, doing his best to collect all the blood that spills from you, and it's mesmerizing– especially when he brings his fingers to your arm to swipe up what his tongue misses. Your stomach flutters as you watch him separate from your wrist and bring his bloodied fingers to his mouth; they're so long, so pretty and enticing– you want them.

Jeongin can see it in your eyes– how brazenly you stare at his fingers, how your eyes follow every move he makes with them. You're still panting, sweating, chest heaving from the exertion, but the rutting of your hips has faltered; and he grins as he gazes at you. You're once again left with the feeling that he sees through you– that all it takes is a glance for him to know everything you're thinking.

"You want them? Want me to stuff your cunt full with my fingers? Make you cum all over them?" he asks, entirely rhetorical; he already knows the answer. And he likes the way you writhe over the question, how you gasp over the sinful words he so freely spills in such a sacred place, your ears positively burning.

Even if your face didn't obviously show your desires, you don't think you'd be able to deny them; you've never wanted anything as badly as you want this, want him. It should make your gut twist with shame, because deep down you know this is wrong, know that you shouldn't want him to touch you as badly as you do– but the craving for Jeongin to bring you pleasure is almost primal, so deep and innate that your rational mind can't even hope to fight against it.

Slowly, almost playfully, he trails his fingertips over your thigh, and the anticipation is enough to make you unconsciously hold your breath. "You're so fucking messy," Jeongin says as he brushes his fingers over your soaking, sensitive clit, "so wet– you're a dirty girl, huh?"

You want to whine, want to shake your head and vehemently deny that you're dirty, attest to being a good, honest, and God fearing– but you're so overcome with your desire for him to touch you, that you don't. Instead you agree, concede that you are dirty, and messy, and that you want him more explicitly than you feel your own words could ever attest.

How easily you agree to being dirty seems to please him– and with a light chuckle, he slips his hand further down while carefully removing his leg from between your thighs. You wobble a bit when the support of his leg is gone, but he's quick to wrap an arm around you to hold you, effortlessly keeping you upright with the strength innate to who, or rather what, he is.

The cool, silver band that he wears on his pinky makes you jolt when it touches your feverishly hot thigh, and he chuckles again as he spreads your folds with his fingers. You're dripping for him, so slick with arousal that it hardly takes any effort at all for Jeongin's fingers to become coated with your juices.

You rock your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging him to give you what it is you crave most. "Oh look at you, so impatient, so desperate," he laughs as he presses the pads of his fingers to your hole, delighting in the way you look at him with glassy eyes and pinched brows.

It's obscene how badly you want him; you've never felt this needy, never been rendered so desperate for stimulation– and you're in a confessional of all places. This is the very last place on earth you should feel this way, or be doing something like this, and yet the shame you should feel is far from your mind– because all you can think about is your need for his beautiful fingers to fill you up and dull the throbbing ache between your legs.

Jeongin coos when you start to beg for his fingers, a rambling string of "please," and "want it, want you," and "need it so bad." You can tell how much satisfaction it gives him, and if your mind weren't so hazy from desire you'd certainly feel embarrassment build and twist from deep in your gut– but any such feelings are silenced by your body's need for his touch, by your craving for the sensations that only he can grant you.

It takes your breath away when he easily sinks two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out slowly until he curls and bends them to find the spot that makes you see stars. "That's it, there you go," he grins when he finds it. He watches your eyes roll back, your hands clutching at his jacket as he continues to press the tips of his fingers into your most sensitive spot.

He returns to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and nipping it with sharp teeth before he kisses and licks over the bruises he leaves behind. He applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb while relentlessly targeting your spot, an easy task for him thanks to the length of his fingers, and his hold on you tightens when the shaking in your legs grows more intense.

You're so, so close, and Jeongin can tell too– not just from how your pussy pulses and squeezes around his fingers, but because he can hear the loud, erratic thumping of your heart, as well as the rush of blood pulsing in your veins. "C'mon, let go– cum, you can do it, cum for me," he urges, speaking softly against the shell of your ear while swirling his thumb over your clit.

"There you go, good girl, just like that," he praises as you string out a loud succession of whimpers, your thighs closing tight around his hand as your high finally takes you. Your world feels like it’s spinning, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you ride out your high, your release gushing messily around his fingers.

His hand stays in place until your thighs untense, and he’s careful as he slips his fingers out of you, though you can’t help but shiver and whine from the sensitivity regardless. You're unsteady on your feet following your orgasm, but Jeongin makes sure you don't fall over; he keeps his grip on your firm, carefully helps you turn away from where you were pressed against the carved window to sit in the booth's only seat.

He wipes the sweat from your forehead after you sit, leans down to fix and smooth over the skirt of your church gown as you try your best to collect your breath and calm your racing heart. He's reverted back to his kindly priest persona it seems– you can tell by the warm smile he offers when you look at him, his sharp fangs fully retracted.

Still, bits of your blood remain smeared over his lips– clear evidence that he isn't the saintly man he portrays himself to be. You watch breathlessly as Jeongin licks the last of it from his lips before he pulls back the curtain of the confessional booth.

He offers you his hand after it seems like you've recovered enough to stand again; your own hand trembles as you accept it, and with his assistance, you rise carefully from your seat.

You're a bit dizzy when you stand, equal parts consequence of blood loss and the euphoria still lingering and tingling in your veins, but you're otherwise steady; and he smiles as he squeezes your hand in his, the other coming to rest on the small of your back as you take your first step out of the booth.

"Come back to confession again sometime," Jeongin says with his characteristically deceitful, charming smile, knowing full well that you will. Humans always find the sensation of his venom irresistible, always become addicted to it once they've felt it– and you'll be no different. "I'll be waiting for you."

#skz x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz smut #yang jeongin smut #skz fanfic #yang jeongin fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #gonna be real i hated my first drafts of this fic and ended up rewriting it several times so sorry if its a miss fsdgsdf #idk why but i'm never satisfied with how i write jeongin. alas i'm uploading this regardless :')#and in one of my drafts i wrote him as a mean dom but i didn't like that ver of him very much fsdgdsfg #even in my darker fics i am not a mean dom girlie ig. they have to still be a least a /lil/ soft !!

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yanderefarm · 1 day ago

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yandere crime lord introduction

cw;; torture, violence, yandere things, nsft

he's finally here. please feast your eyes on him. pretty boy. im amazed at how the three of them really do look like brothers. i was having a really hard time with his hair when i finally to give him curly hair like his brother and its such a good choice. ajax has some curl to his hair too so they all look related.

achilles is the eldest brother of ares and ajax. he's 35 years old.

he has a nicotine addiction and he goes through a pack a week. quitting is more stressful than it's worth so he hasn't tried.

he stays in touch with his brothers. ares more so because ares calls him to hide bodies frequently.

he isn't head of the family yet, he works right under his father and he has a lot of the same power and responsibilities.

he hates violence and as a young boy he was even more soft spoken and didn't want to hurt anyone. now he has no choice and that adds to his stress.

his whole life he's been compared to ares because he's so much softer than his more aggressive brother. this caused him to really develop a complex where he's always thinking about how much better ares would be at everything he tries and then he starts to stress that people will realize that he's just faking being tough and masculine.

he's known since he was young that he likes men but he doesn't want to risk anymore more evidence against him.

he doesn't have time for relationships or a personal life. his routine is basically work, stress, eat, sleep.

this only changes when he's with you. suddenly he doesn't have to stop and remember to eat. he doesn't have to hurt anyone or be threatening. there's no fear of being exposed with you.

his routine with you is torture, eat, get taken care of, sleep.

at first it was horrible, of course it would be. he spent every day just praying he survived. but one day you weren't torturing him, instead you just let him sit in the same room as you.

for the first time he didn't have to be scared or worry about survival and he was certain all his stress would come back to him. but he realized there was no point in stressing; you would kill him sooner rather than later so he could just comfortably be himself.

he started to get closer to you then forming some kind of strange domesticity. he even found himself enjoying the pain, the horrible pain you would inflict would empty his mind of everything but you.

and then you would patch and clean his wounds so gently. you would always tell him when it was about to sting like you hadn't been putting out cigarettes on his chest an hour ago.

he fell in love with you in the 2 and a half months he spent as your captive. it was nice to love someone so deeply before he died.

and then you told him he could leave. he was confused, upset, confused why he was upset. he wondered if maybe you had found out that your victim had developed a sick affection for you and you were so disgusted with him.

he never understood his younger brother's feelings and possessiveness towards everything. he didn't understand how his brother could claim to love something so deeply that he feels compelled to break it. but when you told him he could go he suddenly understood everything.

it was like something in his mind finally clicked into place and he knew he couldn't let you throw him away. he knew he didn't have any power over you but if he could find something you wanted he could force you to let him stay.

he eventually becomes a pay pig for you. he knows that you're willing to do extreme things for money but he usually just pays to go on dates or for kisses.

he calls you a lot whenever work becomes overwhelming. if you don't answer the phone he'll light up a cigarette instead.

everyone thinks he has a girlfriend and he's some dominant guy who's suddenly whipped for a pretty little girl. they don't know he's the wife.

he loves mascot characters. he really loves cute or ugly cute things. he has a cute phone charm he got from ares and it's the only cute thing he allows himself to own. he can use it being his brother's gift as a good excuse to keep it.

ares knows his real personality while ajax still thinks he's a cool stoic older brother

he is very stoic and he can come off pretty intimidating. he'll accidentally glare at people sometimes because he's just lost in thought and worrying about something.

he only smiles when he's with you. whether you're out on a date or he's getting sewn up he'll have a soft little smile on his face.

if you ever tried to abandon him he would use every resource at his disposal to find you. even if he has to be the one to lock you up he won't let you leave.

he's surprisingly clingy in public. he doesn't do much pda but he'll hold your hand the whole time. if anyone looks at you he'll squeeze your hand and pull you a little closer to himself.

surprisingly it actually takes him a little bit to come around to the idea of bringing sex into things. even longer to convince him that he'd probably enjoy sex more if there was a pain aspect.

now he gets turned on as soon as you press that piece of duct tape over his mouth. he's a complete degenerate.

he loves being degraded. nothing is more exciting than when he calls you at work stressed out and you mock his whole crime lord attitude.

never worry about being too mean to him. he will beg you to make him cry.

he got the family sex = love belief. however because of his work with prostitutes he finds love to be cheap. he didn't think he would ever fall in love until his obsession with you formed.

he also inherited the family forced fem kink. he particularly likes to wear frilly lingerie under his suits while at work. he always sends you a picture of his underwear in the morning.

he over hears someone talking about how much they love calling their wife, wife. so he asks you to call him wife once and it immediately gets him hard. he's a blushing mess about it. .

quiet in bed. when hes not screaming in pain. he just gasps and whimpers at your touch.

he has a desperate need to praise you. like a praise kink but on the giving side. he wants to kiss every inch of your skin and tell you how grateful he is for you.

he doesn't say i love you a lot but when he does it's during sex. especially after edging him.

any kinks you want to try on him he is down to do at least once.

#yandere oc #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #yandere ideas #yandere x reader #yandere crime lord

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maeedrg · 21 hours ago

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Satoru, Oh Satoru

Y/n’s goodbye letter

ᯓ★

Synopsis : In which you write and send a letter to your ex fiance, Gojo Satoru, before his deathly battle with Sukuna. Broken promise, he wishes to see you again, the love of his life, one last time before it’s too late. [The letter is the Mary’s goodbye letter to Arthur Morgan from RDR2]

Words count : 2k

Warnings : heavy angst, slight comfort, major character death, spoilers of the end of the manga, reader is called « wife » once.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I love Red Dead Redemption 2, and the letter of Mary is haunting me. It’s been weeks since I wanted to write about it, so here we go, with Gojo instead of Arthur Morgan ! English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes.

“My dear Satoru,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it.

Satoru, oh, Satoru. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I am with you, the world makes sense but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I am so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for leaving you. There's a vulnerable man within you, Satoru, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant, wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free. So please, win, and come out alive.

Goodbye.

y/n”

Are those water drops ?

Satoru blinks once, twice, before realizing that tears roll down his rosy cheeks and wet down the paper. He slowly opens his mouth in a shuddering breath, knuckles tightening against the letter he was holding in his hands. He is crying, Gojo Satoru is crying. Heavens know that this man almost never cried since the day he was born. But the way his heart was hurting so much, each breath being a stabbing inhale, as if a dag was slicing open his lungs and cutting into pieces his poor sweet damaged heart, confirm it. Yes, he cries. He cries this forgotten moment, he cries you, he cries your love, lost in the nostalgia he feels.

The Strongest, no, Satoru, never thought he would lose the love of his life twice. The first time was when you left him years ago, three more exactly, and God it was his own damn fault. He knows it more than anyone else, more than you.

The second was today, when he opened this letter you sent him and read it 5, 6, 12, 23 times. Hell, at first he thought he was hallucinating when he received it this morning. Why ? Why today ? The day he was supposed to have no single regrets, because he knew it would be the last time he would be on earth. He prayed that you forgot about him, hated him, cursed him in your soul forever, so he could die without your and any regrets.

23rd of December. Tomorrow, it will be the 24th. Please, please, please. He doesn’t want to die now. Will he really win ? That was just a sentence said to reassure himself, to convince his students and his own heart that everything will be alright. But the “what if” came along, and he ended up writing letters to his students in case he would indeed lose tomorrow. Including you. His long lost love. His ex fiance.

But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t expect you to send him one before he could even finish writing yours.

That hurts, so damn much. Was he even breathing anymore ? He didn’t know. But he had to breathe, everyone wanted him to breathe and to stand up. They needed him. Everyone needed him. But all he wanted, in the end, was for you to need him. Even if he told you the contrary years ago. That was all a lie, to you and himself. Satoru made you leave him, but that was for your sake.

Marrying The Strongest meant having a deadly bounty on your head, the end of your peaceful love, and maybe the end of your own life. He never really regretted what he did, he preferred for you to be safe and sound, away from him. Even if he missed your pretty eyes, your oh so sweet lips, the warmth of your soul and the comfort of your arms.

But now, some hours before his last day on earth, he regretted it more than anything. In the end, he would have wanted to spend his last years in your company if it meant having this kind of death. God, he could have called you his wife. He wasn’t dumb, Satoru was far too smart for his own good. Tomorrow will be his last. There was no need to be delusional about it, but it hurts. It hurts so much. More than he wanted it to be. The Strongest never gets hurt, after all. Because he doesn’t allow it to happen.

He kisses the ring, the engagement ring, he gave you years ago before you returned it to him in this letter. He slowly closes his watery eyes, biting the inside of his mouth, lost in thoughts. He wanted to feel your lips against his one last time. He wanted to be in your arms one last time. He wanted to hear your name coming out of your mouth one last time. He just wanted to see you, before his battle against Sukuna. Was he egoistical to want that, after everything that happened in between the two of you, after the letter you sent ?

“I just… don’t care anymore,” he muttered, standing back up and softly sliding your letter against his still beating heart.

Seeing you was his last wish. May it be granted.

Some minutes after, barely 20, he was in front of your door. It was an unholy hour to grant you a visit, the clock ticking 11.58 PM. In two minutes it would be his official last hours on earth, Christmas Day. If Santa Claus was real, then you were the biggest gift he could ask for.

The moment you open your door, sleepy eyes, greasy pajamas, and then face distorting in utter disbelief when staring at your ex fiance standing right in front of you, time stops. Satoru couldn’t believe his own eyes. His Six eyes were useless, his soul was already screaming to him that the person in front of him was the love of his life.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, unable to know if you were dreaming, or not. He died a little when he finally heard his name slipping out of your lips after so many years.

You can’t even utter another word, that his large frame is on you. His strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you in the depth of his chest and undying love for you. He inhales, you smell the same as he remembers. Oh, sweet Lord, how he missed this. He felt his heart beating again, his lungs working finally normally, he was breathing. Yes, he was breathing. Thanks to you. He never felt more alive in this moment. What a duality. A cruel duality.

“I did read your letter. Let me say my goodbyes to you too, y/n. One last time, I beg you,” he murmurs in the crook of your neck. Gojo Satoru never begs. Yet, here he was, ready to go on his knees like he did when he proposed to you, to implore one last blessing moment in your presence.

Your feelings were conflicted, you were in the arms of the man that broke your heart, and from whom you just made your goodbyes. Maybe that was mean of you, to send this letter the day before his battle against Sukuna. When you saw it on the news, you understood that it would be maybe your last time being able to reach to him. You told him what you needed to say. For you, that was final. But one thing that you didn’t take accountability for, was his soul wrenching love for you. And, in this small moment of peace before war, you decided to indulge in his vulnerability, no, yours. Wait, both of you were more vulnerable than you could ever be again.

“Satoru.”

“I missed you,” he whispers as he slowly lift his head, blue glossy eyes meeting yours intimately. Tears, rolling down. You couldn't fathom it.

“I’m so, so, oh so sorry. Do you forgive me for breaking your heart ?” His voice is like a whimper, and you feel a part of your soul breaking at his pleading. Your lips quiver.

“Yes, Satoru. And do you forgive me too for breaking yours ?”

“I never resented you,” he closes his eyes saying that, leaning his forehead against yours. That was unspoken, but you understood the depth of his words. After all, you knew him better than anyone else. He made you leave him, on purpose, and you were aware why he did that. You indeed left, he watched you doing it, unable to stop this tragedy from happening, because you both knew that marrying each other would have been probably the biggest dream and nightmare of your life. You both broke each other's hearts that day.

“I never did too,” you answer, closing your eyes.

“I love you, you know that, right ? Always did."

“I love you, Satoru. I know that you do. And…” you both open back your eyes at the same time, “I realize that loving you was my greatest curse, but your eyes grant me mercy. In them I see the salvation of my soul, but I know that your heart has already cursed me,” you finish in a breath coming from the depth of your being.

Two tears roll down at your answer. One from your eye, one from his. He sniffs, unable to suppress his emotions, and then slowly take out of his pocket two objects. First, a letter, bigger than the one you wrote him. It was unfinished, he didn’t have the time to. He softly puts it in the crook of your hand.

“Read it if I’m gone, if I’m not, then give it back to me in person," he asks you, his pearly white lashes getting wet from the tears in his eyes. You both knew deep in your hearts that you would never be able to give it back to him. Yet, you force a smile on your face.

“I promise.”

The second object, was your engagement ring. Satoru knew it was oh so egoistical of him to give it back, when you send it attached to the letter this morning. He refused to keep it. He still had his on his finger, he wanted you to keep it too.

You said in your letter that you refused to keep it anymore because you cared for it far too much and it reminded you too much of him. Satoru wanted you to remember him. He was sure that when he will die, people would forget about him, and move on. He came to accept that fact. People only cared about the farthest and the greatest grand Gojo Satoru, The Strongest. Once death would take this title from him, he would have nothing left, aside from you.

“Only you can carry my love. Never forget that. You said that you hope by returning it to me you can finally be free. For my christmas gift, let me take your freedom,” he pleads, no, begs. His hand was shaking as he gently slid back the ring on your finger, it was his ultimate wish.

A sob escapes your lips. You cursed him for doing that to you. But how could you be mad, when granting the death wish of your long lost fiance ? You look back at the shiny ring, and remember how you blessed Heavens the day he proposed to you. It hurts to know that you never had the chance to call him your husband. Your love was doomed from the beginning. The world was cruel, so cruel.

“I’ll feel alive as long as I’m in your heart, may you never forget me,” he finishes, tangling his fingers in yours.

His left hand cradles your cheek, and you slowly lean towards him. His lips melt against yours, in this final goodbye, last kiss, last shared moment, heart to heart beating in sync. Your souls intertwined, and Satoru wished he could just die right now in your arms, in the sweetness of your lips and warmth of your love.

“In another life, Satoru. In another life we’ll marry and love each other how we wanted to, just not in this one,” you whisper like a secret to the world against his lips. He smiles through the tears.

“I’ll gladly die with a smile, now.” At least he could die the same day as Geto Suguru, one year after him, joining him in death. At least he could die knowing you loved him no matter what. At least he could die knowing that in his next life he could be by your side, again.

You never forgot him. You kept the ring on your finger, until your last breath and till death do you part. It did.

THE END

#gojo x reader #jjk #rdr2 #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo satoru #x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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helluva-headache · 2 days ago

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I try usually to not get into discourse about the shows because it's exhausting but I'm just throwing this out there because it's bouncing around in my brain.

It's kinda wild to me how many Stolas haters there are that genuinely don't believe Stolas is going to have any sort of reckoning when it comes to his class/racial bias.

I've even seen people go as far as say the writers of the show are "just going to let it slide" and Stolas "won't face any consequences".

Like... the writers are the ones who wrote in Stolas' class/racial bias to begin with.

During Harvest Moon Festival, they purposefully show a shot of the crowd looking angry as Stolas addresses them as "tiny wrath ring imps".

The writers wrote Striker's dialogue in Harvest Moon Festival and Western Energy, clearly showing his distaste for royals and the disparity between classes. They wouldn't do this, especially in the scenes where Striker is talking directly about/to Stolas, if this wasn't going to be an important issue that will be addressed down the line.

It's even brought up in Full Moon and Apology Tour. In Full Moon, Blitzø's anger towards Stolas' attitude regarding imps is the climax of their argument at the end of the episode. He may not have expressed it in a way that Stolas would be entirely receptive to in that moment, but it's a huge first step as this is the first time Blitzø is directly expressing his frustration to Stolas' face.

And then in Apology Tour we have Stolas saying to Blitzø "I don't look down on you!" and "When have I ever?-" and then goes on to compare Blitzø's attitude to Striker's. This conversation is derailed when Stolas finds out about the first assassination attempt, but their conversation here is another big step in the right direction. This conversation shows Blitzø, and us in the audience, that Stolas doesn't actively believe he's better than imps, but passively without realizing it treats imps as if they are lesser.

This is important because it distinguishes Stolas' behavior from that of someone with malicious intent, perhaps like how Andrealphus did when referring to Striker as a "mangy stray". This distinction shows us that Stolas is capable of change. He's never had a reason to examine his class/racial bias, until he met Blitzø.

All this to say there are too many breadcrumbs intentionally left by the writers for this topic to not be addressed at some point. I understand some people who are especially fans of Blitzø may be upset because of a literal "anti-Blitzø party" in Apology Tour, and might feel like the show is unfairly digging at Blitzø without addressing Stolas' wrongs. However, I feel like it's reasonable for Blitzø's issues to be addressed first as he is the main character. And based on the season 2 trailer, I don't doubt that in one of the next few episodes the show will be digging into Stolas as well.

The show isn't over yet. If a major character flaw that has been referred to in multiple episodes throughout the entire series hasn't been formally addressed yet, trust the writers to address it before the show is completed.

#helluva boss #helluva boss fandom #helluva boss discourse #blitzø #blitzo #stolas #stolitz #stolitz discourse #I wrote this pre-Ghostfuckers for anyone finding this after the episode airs #in case that makes a difference at all #might delete this post eventually #just needed to get this out of my head

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kckt88 · 2 days ago

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Scorched Hearts XI

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

Valaena and Aemond reunite with their family, and tensions rise at dinner.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Dragons, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, Cock Warming.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 6480

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Rhaenyra paced the now-empty council chamber, her footsteps echoing softly as she fiddled with her rings.

Nearly six years had passed since Silverwing and Vhagar had been presumed lost in the waters of Shipbreaker Bay, carrying Aemond and her beloved daughter, Valaena, to their deaths.

The pain of losing Valaena had been an agony like no other—her sweet, spirited girl, taken so young, her life snuffed out before it had truly begun.

In the years since, Rhaenyra had found herself drawn to solitude, often seeking the quiet of her balcony to gaze at the stars. She would tell herself that one of them was Valaena, watching over her, a gentle light in the dark.

At other times, she’d mount Syrax and fly to Shipbreaker Bay, where she’d stand on the shore and stare at the waves, willing them to give her back her child.

For a moment, she would almost believe that if she stood there long enough, she would see her daughter walking toward her, stepping out of the mist and foam.

Now, with news of Silverwing and Vhagar sighted over Blackwater Bay, a swirl of hope and dread filled her heart.

What if it wasn’t Valaena? What if someone else had claimed her daughter’s beloved Silverwing?

She didn’t want to open her heart to hope, only to have it torn apart again. She would not survive it.

A soft knock at the door shattered her thoughts. She swallowed, her hands trembling as she composed herself.

“Come in,” she managed, her voice wavering.

The door opened slowly, and as Rhaenyra looked up, her heart stopped. Valaena stood there, framed in the doorway, alive and real.

Rhaenyra couldn’t breathe, frozen as she took in the sight of her daughter—the daughter she’d mourned, who now stood before her as if she’d never left.

Valaena seemed taller now, her features a blend of the girl Rhaenyra had lost and the woman she had become.

Wordlessly, Rhaenyra stepped forward, her hand reaching out, her fingers quivering as they brushed against Valaena’s shoulder.

The touch was solid and warm, and Rhaenyra’s breath hitched as she felt the reality of her child beneath her fingers.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You’re real.”

Valaena took her mother’s hand gently, grounding her. “Yes, Mama. I’m real, and I’m home.”

In a heartbeat, Rhaenyra pulled her daughter into a fierce embrace, sobs wracking her as she held Valaena as tightly as she could.

“My girl,” she gasped, over and over. “My little girl.” She buried her face in Valaena’s hair, inhaling her scent, as if she could somehow imprint it in her heart forever.

Finally, Rhaenyra pulled back just enough to cup Valaena’s face in her hands, her thumbs brushing gently across her cheeks.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Valaena’s own eyes shimmered as she looked at her mother. “I know. I’m so sorry for all the pain I caused you.”

Rhaenyra shook her head, her hands still cradling Valaena’s face as if afraid she might disappear if she let go.

“No, my sweet girl. I’m sorry—for making you feel that you couldn’t come to me.”

A shadow passed over Valaena’s face. “Do you hate me?”

Rhaenyra’s heart twisted as she shook her head emphatically. “No, I could never hate you. Perhaps, someday, we’ll speak of all that has happened. But for now-” she took a shaky breath, pressing a tender kiss to Valaena’s brow, “-I’m just so grateful to have you home.”

The two held each other, finding solace in the closeness that they had both longed for over years apart, a fragile, precious reunion sealed with the unbreakable bond that they’d shared since Valaena’s first breath.

Valaena looked at her mother with a soft smile and said, “Would you like to meet your grandchildren?”

Rhaenyra’s face lit up, and she replied, “Please.”

Valaena called out to Aemond, and the door opened as he entered with Rhaegar and Elaena at his side, and little Daenys nestled in his arms.

Valaena gently introduced each child, beginning with, “This is Rhaegar.” He stepped forward, bowing politely.

“Your Grace,” he said, his voice steady, though his violet eyes revealed a spark of curiosity.

Then Valaena moved her hand toward her daughter, “And this is Elaena.” The little girl, with her thumb firmly in her mouth, pressed herself shyly against Aemond’s leg, peeking out from behind his cloak.

“And this,” Valaena continued, her voice softer, “is Daenys.” She reached over to stroke Daenys’ cheek, who gazed back with wide, inquisitive eyes.

Rhaenyra’s expression softened as she took in each child, and then she looked up at Aemond, her gaze steady. “Aemond.”

Aemond met her eyes and replied with a curt, “Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra nodded. “You and I need to have a conversation, but that can wait. For now, may I hold my granddaughter?”

Aemond glanced at Valaena, who nodded her consent. He stepped forward, carefully passing Daenys to Rhaenyra.

As she cradled the baby, Rhaenyra’s face softened even more, her own hands steady as she pressed a gentle kiss to Daenys’ forehead.

She looked into the child’s curious, trusting eyes for a moment before handing her back to Aemond.

Rhaenyra then knelt to Elaena’s level, giving the little girl a warm smile. “Hello, little one. I’m your grandmother.”

Elaena took her thumb out of her mouth, studying Rhaenyra’s face before saying, “You smile like Mama.”

Rhaenyra chuckled softly. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

Elaena gave a tiny nod, but she still kept close to Aemond, her small hand gripping the edge of his cloak. Rhaenyra rose and turned to Rhaegar, studying him closely. “My, you favour your father in looks,” she said, a gentle smile on her face.

Rhaegar’s expression shifted with a flash of pride, and he said, “Thank you,” his voice small but sincere.

Then Rhaenyra’s gaze drifted to Valaena’s rounded stomach, her eyes widening with realization. “I see I am to have another grandchild.”

Valaena smiled, her hand resting protectively over her belly. “Yes-a surprise, but a welcome one.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened as she replied, “Those are the best kind.” Her gaze drifted over Aemond’s shoulder, noticing two unfamiliar faces standing just behind him.

“Ahh yes-” Valaena said, following her mother’s gaze. “This is Lirri and Arro”

Rhaenyra inclined her head in polite greeting, acknowledging the two who had evidently served her daughter and good son well.

Just then, Daenys began to fuss, her small face creasing. Aemond lifted her onto his shoulder, swaying slightly from side to side, murmuring softly to calm her.

Rhaenyra watched, almost mesmerized, as Aemond soothed his youngest with the practiced ease of a father.

“Mama,” Elaena tugged at Valaena’s dress, her voice soft with exhaustion. “I tired.”

Valaena brushed her hand gently over her daughter’s hair. “You’ll sleep soon, my sweet.”

Rhaenyra took in the scene with a quiet smile, then turned to call for Ser Erryk. He entered swiftly, awaiting her command.

“Ser Erryk, will you escort Valaena, Aemond, and their children to the empty royal chambers in Maegor’s Holdfast? There is ample room for the family and space enough for a nursery. There are also suitable lodgings for Lirri and Arro, as I imagine you would like them to remain in your service.”

Valaena nodded gratefully. “Yes, we would.”

Rhaenyra smiled warmly. “I’ll let you all get settled. And, Aemond-” she said, glancing at him, “I’m sure you’ll want to see your mother and siblings as well.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Aemond replied with a respectful nod.

Rhaenyra inclined her head. “Then let us meet for dinner later.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Valaena agreed.

As Valaena turned to leave, Rhaenyra felt a surge of emotion she couldn’t quite contain. “Wait,” she called out.

Valaena paused, turning back, and Rhaenyra crossed the room quickly, pulling her into a tight embrace. She whispered softly, “I just wanted to be sure.”

Valaena hugged her mother back, her voice steady and filled with warmth. “I’m here, Mama. I’m here.”

With that, Valaena and Aemond gathered their children and followed Ser Erryk, leaving Rhaenyra alone in the council chamber, her heart brimming with both the joy of reunion and the quiet ache of years lost.

In the quiet of the chamber, Valaena sat back against the cushioned armchair, watching the dim flickering light from the candles cast soft shadows across the walls.

Elaena was already fast asleep on the bed, her small form nestled securely in Lirri's arms. Nearby, Daenys was in Arro's gentle hold, swaddled and calm as he slowly rocked her, humming a low lullaby.

Rhaegar, standing beside Valaena’s chair, looked around the sparsely furnished room, his young brow knitting together.

"It's very dark in here, Mama," he murmured.

Valaena gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to brush a hand through his silver hair. "I know, my love. But once we have our things here, I’m sure it will brighten the place up."

She glanced over at Aemond, who sat in a wooden chair by the door, tapping his fingers restlessly against the armrest.

His gaze kept straying to the doorway, his lips pressed into a thin line of anticipation.

Sensing his urge to go, Valaena spoke softly, “It’s alright, Aemond. If you want to go see your mother, go.”

Aemond turned to her, his expression conflicted. “I don’t wish to leave you alone.”

Valaena chuckled lightly. “I’m not alone. Arro and Lirri are here.” She looked at him with quiet understanding, encouraging him to go.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond finally stood, adjusting the front of his leather jerkin. Just then, Rhaegar tugged on his father’s hand, looking up with a curious expression.

“Where are you going, daddy?”

“To see your grandmother,” Aemond answered gently.

Rhaegar tilted his head in confusion. “But-we just saw her.”

Aemond chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “You have more than one grandmother.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened with intrigue. “I do?”

Aemond nodded, a faint smile on his face. “And uncles and an aunt as well.”

Rhaegar’s face lit up, and he looked at his mother, clearly eager. “Can I come with you?”

Valaena met Aemond’s gaze, a look of encouragement in her eyes.

Aemond turned back to Rhaegar with a soft smile. “If you want to, yes.”

“I do!” Rhaegar’s face shone with excitement, and he nodded emphatically.

Valaena leaned down and cupped Rhaegar’s face, her expression tender. “Be a good boy, alright?”

“I will, Mama,” Rhaegar promised earnestly.

Aemond stepped forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Valaena’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” he murmured. “I love you.”

She smiled, her hand resting over his as he pulled away. “I love you too.”

With a final glance, Valaena watched them leave, Aemond’s protective arm around Rhaegar’s shoulders as they disappeared down the dim corridor.

The door closed softly, leaving the room cloaked in quiet once more.

Aemond and Rhaegar made their way through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, the shadows and hallways stretching out before them.

Rhaegar, small, wide-eyed and unsure, clung tightly to his father’s hand as they walked.

Every now and then, he tugged on Aemond's hand, and at last, he paused, kneeling down to meet his son’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, Rhaegar?” Aemond asked gently.

Rhaegar looked around, glancing nervously at the servants and guards who had stopped to stare as they passed.

"People are staring at us, Daddy."

Aemond gave him a reassuring smile, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, tresy. They’re looking at me, not you” (Son).

Rhaegar’s brows furrowed as he whispered, “Are you okay, Daddy?”

Aemond’s smile softened. “I will be” He stood and, with a deep breath, took Rhaegar’s hand in his once more.

Together, they walked onward until they arrived before the heavy door of Alicent’s chambers. Aemond raised his hand to knock but hesitated, his fingers curling.

He felt Rhaegar squeeze his other hand and, glancing down at his young son, he smiled—a reminder of his courage.

Steeling himself, Aemond knocked, and a moment later, his mother’s voice called from within, “Come in.”

Opening the door, Aemond’s breath caught. Alicent was sitting by the window beside Helaena, both of them sewing.

At the sight of him, Alicent froze, her needle slipping from her fingers.

“A-Aemond-” she whispered, slowly rising from her seat, disbelief and joy fighting for dominance on her face.

She approached him cautiously, her hand reaching out, as if he might disappear if she moved too quickly.

Gently, she cupped his face, her thumb tracing the scar on his cheek. “I thought you were dead,” she murmured, voice trembling.

Aemond took her hand, squeezing it gently. “No, Mother. I’m alive.”

A relieved smile broke across her face. “Oh, my son-” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and Aemond hugged her back, though a bit stiffly.

When she pulled away, her gaze fell on Rhaegar, her eyes widening.

“And who is this little one?” she asked softly.

Aemond’s hand moved to rest on Rhaegar’s shoulder, and with a small, proud smile, he said, “This is my son, Rhaegar.”

Alicent’s eyes filled with fresh tears as she clasped a hand to her mouth. “You have a son,” she whispered in awe.

Aemond nodded. “Yes, I also have two daughters and another child on the way.”

“Oh, Aemond-” Alicent’s smile was luminous. “Is it Valaena? Is she here too?”

Aemond’s eye widened, surprised. “How did you know about—”

Before he could finish, the door burst open, making Rhaegar jump and clutch at Aemond’s leg.

Aegon stumbled into the room, breathless and grinning. “Is it true? They’re saying all over the Keep that Aemond’s alive! Is he really—” He stopped abruptly, eyes falling on his brother.

Aemond bent down to lift Rhaegar protectively into his arms, fixed his older brother with a scowl. “You moron, you scared my son half to death!”

Aegon winced, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I—wait. You have a son?” He looked incredulous.

Aemond sighed, rubbing Rhaegar’s back soothingly. “Yes, you idiot. And you frightened him.”

Aegon’s expression softened as he looked at the boy in Aemond’s arms. “What’s his name?”

“Rhaegar,” Aemond answered.

A broad smile broke across Aegon’s face. “A fine name, brother. Well done.” He clapped Aemond on the back, and Aemond muttered a grudging thanks.

At that moment, Helaena approached, her soft smile calming Rhaegar. Holding out her arms, she silently asked permission to hold him.

To Aemond’s surprise, Rhaegar leaned over willingly, nestling into her as she kissed his cheek and murmured,

“There, there, sweet boy.” Rhaegar, now settled, seemed soothed in her gentle hold.

Aegon then flung his arms around Aemond, his grin a mix of affection and mischief. “You twat, I’ve missed you!”

But Aemond pulled back, wrinkling his nose and teasingly sniffing the air around Aegon. “Gods, you reek of wine. Did you bathe in it?”

“If only,” Aegon quipped, laughing, though Aemond made a face in response.

Just then, Daeron appeared quietly by the doorway. He stepped in cautiously, his eyes shining as he took in the sight of his elder brother.

Aemond nodded politely to him, offering a faint smile. Daeron stepped forward, returning the smile as he clasped Aemond’s shoulder.

“I was barely more than a boy when they sent me to Oldtown and when I returned, you were gone,” he said softly.

Aemond’s gaze warmed, nodding in quiet understanding. “Then mayhaps we can come to know each other as brothers once more.”

Daeron nodded, his voice steady. “I would like that.”

As Alicent watched her children reunited, she couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped from her eyes, pressing a handkerchief to her cheek.

For six long years, she had mourned her favourite son, believing him lost to the sea. And now here he was—returned to her, with his own family.

At last, Aemond was home, surrounded by his mother and siblings, the ghosts of the past slowly beginning to lift.

Rhaegar’s small voice broke through the gentle chatter. “I want to go back to Mama,” he whispered, his hand clutching Helaena’s shoulder.

Helaena smiled warmly and, with a soft kiss to his cheek, handed him back to Aemond.

Aemond held Rhaegar close, nodding to his sister with quiet gratitude. “Thank you for everything, Hellie-” he said.

She smiled; her gaze full of understanding. “I’m just glad that you’re all home.”

Aemond took a breath, shifting his weight as he prepared to leave. “The Queen has invited me and Valaena for dinner later,” he said, “-So I’ll see you all then.”

“Where are you off to now?” Aegon asked, folding his arms with an arched brow.

“Rhaegar wants his mother,” Aemond replied, adjusting his grip on his son. “And I should be heading back anyway—Elaena and Daenys will likely be waking from their naps.”

Aegon blinked, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face. “Who are Elaena and Daenys?”

“My daughters,” Aemond said, giving him a wry look.

Aegon let out a laugh, clapping Aemond on the shoulder. “Well, you’ve certainly been busy, whilst you were dead. So how many children are we talking about here?”

Aemond rolled his eye, scoffing. “Like you can talk. How many silver-haired bastards of yours are running around Flea Bottom?”

Aegon shrugged, grinning. “Not that many, I don’t think-” he trailed off with a smirk, “and you didn’t answer my question.”

With a sigh, Aemond replied, “I have three children, and another on the way.”

Aegon whistled, laughing. “Gods be good, brother!” He clutched his ribs as Aemond, exasperated, jabbed him lightly in the side.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Aemond said, his patience thinning but his smile lingering.

With a final nod to his siblings, he made his way out of the room, Rhaegar cradled securely in his arms.

Rhaegar nestled against him, Aemond strode back through the corridors of the Red Keep, feeling, for the first time in years, like he truly belonged there once more.

As Aemond visited his family, Valaena was busy overseeing the unpacking of their trunks and carefully attending to the wooden crates that housed the dragon hatchlings.

The room was alive with activity—Daenys gurgled contentedly, drooling over her favourite carved wooden toy, while Elaena giggled in delight as Lirri gently tickled her tiny feet.

Meanwhile, Arro was stood on the balcony, admiring the breathtaking view over Blackwater Bay.

Valaena knelt beside the crates, unlatching them and gently coaxing the hatchlings out.

Hūra let out a piercing shriek as she unfurled her wings, stretching before leaping onto the bed to snuggle up next to Elaena, who giggled and stroked her scaly head.

Valerion, the smallest, wasted no time latching onto Valaena’s dress, scrambling his way up to her shoulder as he chirped happily in her ear.

Sapphyre, the largest and most spirited of the trio, lifted his head, sniffed the air, and began to trill urgently as he looked around.

Lirri looked concerned, watching the restless hatchling. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

“It’s a new place,” Valaena explained, brushing a soothing hand over Sapphyre’s scaled neck. “He doesn’t know where Rhaegar is. He’s worried.”

“Oh no-” muttered Lirri

“Dokimarvose, Sapphyre. Lykirī” but Sapphyre only roared and flapped his wings, rearing up on his hind legs in agitation (Focus, be calm).

“My lady-” muttered Lirri nervously.

With a firmer tone, Valaena held out her hand and commanded, “Dohaerās, Sapphyre” (Serve).

Instantly, Sapphyre’s defiance waned; and he settled down, tilting his head with a questioning gaze.

“Mama-” exclaimed Elaena.

Valaena gently stroked him, murmuring, “Hegnīr valītsos” Sapphyre then moved away and curled up in front of the fire, his golden eyes fixed on the door, waiting (Good boy).

Lirri exhaled in relief. “That was close, my lady.”

Valaena gave a slight nod, her fingers idly trailing along Sapphyre’s scales. “It’s an unfamiliar place to him. Hopefully, Aemond and Rhaegar will be back soon and then he’ll calm down-”

Carefully, Valaena lifted Valerion from her shoulder and placed him on the bed next to Daenys, who immediately reached out to hold his tail in her little hand.

Arro, watching all of this with fascination, finally spoke up. “Should we ask that Sapphyre be taken to join Vhagar and Silverwing? He might feel more comfortable with them.”

“The dragon keepers may not allow that,” Valaena replied, a hint of displeasure in her voice. “They’d likely insist he be taken to the Dragonpit.”

Arro looked puzzled. “What’s the Dragonpit?”

“It’s a building in the city where dragons are kept,” Valaena explained, her tone darkening. “But I don’t like it, the dragons are chained in the dark. I won’t subject Sapphyre to that.”

Arro shook his head, his expression disturbed. “That sounds terrible.”

“I believe it stunts their growth, being chained up and confined like that,” Valaena said, glancing over at the hatchling curled up by the fire.

“Is that why Vhagar is so large?”

“Yes, I believe so-she’s spent many years flying free. Maybe that why they insist on chaining the dragons, to prevent them from growing larger” muttered Valaena rubbing her stomach gently.

“Was there a dragon larger than her?” asked Arro curiously.

“There was. Balerion the black dread, he was the largest dragon who ever lived” replied Valaena.

“Where is he now?”

“He died, during the reign of my great great grandsire King Jaehaerys” said Valaena.

“Oh” said Arro sadly.

“His skull still rests in a chamber below the red keep, I can show you sometime if you like?” suggested Valaena.

“I would like that very much my lady thank you”

“I know how much you like dragons, perhaps I can suggest some books from the library that I think you would enjoy” said Valaena smiling.

“You are very kind-”

Just then, the door opened, and Aemond stepped in, Rhaegar at his side. Sapphyre, upon seeing Rhaegar, let out a low, happy coo as the boy ran to him, stroking the dragon’s head with a joyful smile.

Aemond took in the room, glancing at Valaena. “Is everything alright here?”

She nodded, but her gaze softened as she watched Rhaegar and Sapphyre together. “We’ll talk about it later.”

As the last of their belongings were unpacked and set in place, Valaena and Aemond finally found a quiet moment.

The children were tucked into their respective rooms—Elaena and Daenys sharing a cozy chamber just across the private corridor, and Rhaegar resting in his own little room beside them.

Lirri and Arro were settled in nearby chambers, close enough to keep watch over the little ones if needed.

In their own quarters, Valaena stood in front of the wardrobe, looking frustrated as she held one dress after another up against her naked body, sighing as none of them felt quite right.

Behind her, Aemond was already dressed in his usual black breeches and leather jerkin, an amused smile dancing on his lips as he watched her fuss over her choices.

After a few moments, Aemond got up, moving behind her and sliding his hands over her waist and then gently over her growing stomach.

He leaned down to nuzzle her neck, his lips grazing her skin. “Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” he murmured against her ear (My beautiful wife).

She let out a soft laugh as he turned her around, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers, asking, “What’s troubling you?”

She sighed, glancing at the pile of dresses. “I can’t find an appropriate dress. Nothing fits properly anymore. My breasts have gotten larger, and none of these dresses cover them properly. I don’t want to feel overexposed.” She crossed her arms in exasperation, glancing at him with a half-smile.

Aemond’s lips quirked up as he gently placed his hands on her chest, cupping the weight of her breasts, his thumbs rubbing against her nipples “You won’t get any argument from me,” he teased.

Valaena huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I’m serious, Aemond. We’re about to have dinner with our parents for the first time in six years, and none of these will do. Either they’re too revealing, or I feel like I’ll overheat.”

He took a step back and reached into the wardrobe, pulling out a deep, elegant floor-length gown with short sleeves. “What about this one?”

She eyed it thoughtfully. “It’ll have to do, I suppose though it still doesn’t solve the issue with the top.”

“Use the sashes on the back as a wrap,” he suggested. “They should offer some cover-”

Her eyes brightened. “That’s a good idea.” She took the dress and made her way toward the privacy screen, only for Aemond to reach for her arm, halting her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a possessive look in his eye.

“To get dressed?” she replied with a playful arch of her brow.

“I wish to watch,” he insisted, his voice low and warm. “I don’t want you hiding any part of yourself from me.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled and let the privacy screen be. She slipped on a thin shift, glancing at him shyly before reaching for her small clothes.

Aemond’s hand touched her wrist. “No,” he said, voice rough with desire. “Leave them off.”

Valaena smirked as she set them aside and stepped into the gown. Aemond moved behind her to fasten the small buttons and ties, his fingers grazing her back as he worked.

She then moved to the vanity, slipping her rings on and fastening her well-worn leather gauntlet bearing the Targaryen sigil.

It was a bit tattered, a testament to how often she wore it—a symbol of her pride in their family and the fact it was a gift from Daemon.

When she reached for her brush, Aemond gently caught her hand. “May I?”

She nodded, handing him the brush, and he began to gently pass it through her long dark hair, careful and slow.

She disliked anyone else handling her hair, yet here she was, relaxed under his gentle touch. It felt intimate, grounding, as if it connected them even more deeply.

When he finished, he set the brush on the vanity and helped her stand.

Aemond gazed at her, his hand lingering at her waist. “I am truly blessed to have you as my wife.”

Valaena smiled, sliding her hands up into his long silver hair and kissing him deeply.

“-And I am blessed to have you as my husband”

Aemond leaned into her, a look of quiet intensity in his eye.

“When this dinner is over,” he whispered, “I’m taking you to bed and fucking you til morning-”

Valaena laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Then let’s hope it doesn’t run too long.”

Aemond and Valaena stood side by side outside the grand dining room, hands clasped tightly. Aemond gave her a reassuring look, squeezing her hand. “Are you ready?”

Valaena took a steadying breath, nodding. “It’s now or never.”

He nodded to the guards, and the heavy doors swung open with a formal announcement. “Princess Valaena and Prince Aemond.”

Inside, the gathered family rose—Rhaenyra, Daemon, Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron—each watching their entrance with expressions ranging from joy to curiosity.

Then, Daemon’s voice rang out, filled with an almost raw emotion. “Tala” (Daughter).

Valaena’s face softened, and she smiled at her stepfather as he approached, his usually stern expression softened.

Valaena murmured, “Kepa-” (Father).

In the next moment, they embraced, tightly, as though afraid to let go. When they finally parted, Daemon quickly brushed away the tears that had traced lines down his cheeks, casting an almost embarrassed look aside.

Daemon’s expression hardened as he looked at Aemond, his features sharpening as he scoffed.

Turning away, he strode off without another word. Valaena bristled, her voice sharp as she called after him, “-Daemon.”

She moved to follow him, but Aemond gently took her hand, shaking his head. She turned back to him, and his gaze reassured her, a silent reminder of the purpose of tonight.

Together, they walked toward Alicent, who greeted them warmly. Alicent clasped Valaena’s hand, her smile bright yet laced with emotion as they exchanged a few kind words.

Helaena soon joined them, and Valaena hugged her tightly, whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

Helaena returned the embrace, her own voice tender. “I knew you would both find your way back home.”

Aegon then came over, grinning widely as he threw an arm around Valaena. “Good sister,” he said with a smirk, raising a goblet. “Come, have some wine.”

Valaena held up a hand. “No, thank you.” Aegon’s gaze shifted downward, his smirk turning into a playful, mocking grin.

“Ah, yes, I see that my brother has you stuffed with his child,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Daeron let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s enough, brother.”

Valaena turned to Daeron, her face lighting up with genuine warmth. “You were but a boy the last time I saw you. And now here you are, a man grown.”

Daeron blushed, looking down before meeting her gaze. “Thank you. I hope we can get to know one another now-” He hesitated, then added with a small smile, “-that you’re not dead.”

Valaena laughed, touched by his sincerity.

Aegon, however, leaned in, eyes glinting mischievously. “And if you want, we could get to know each other a little better too-”

Aemond’s eye darkened, and with a low, irritated growl, he looped his arm around Valaena’s waist, firmly pulling her away from his brother’s reach.

At the table, Valaena took her seat, and Aegon, eyeing the spot next to her, moved to sit there himself, only to be elbowed aside as Aemond took the seat instead.

As they all settled down for the meal, Rhaenyra’s soft voice broke the brief silence. “To our family-whole once more” she toasted, her eyes lingering on Aemond and Valaena with unspoken relief and gratitude.

As they ate, Daemon’s voice, already thick with wine, rang across the table. “So, nephew, where have you been hiding yourself these last years?”

Aemond took a measured breath, feeling Valaena’s reassuring hand on his thigh before replying. “We travelled Essos for a time, then settled in Qarth.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow, a hint of mockery in his smile. “And tell me, just how did you manage to support your little jaunt around Essos? Must’ve cost quite a bit to find shelter and provide food, for yourselves and the dragons”

“We all know that dragons are more than capable of hunting” said Valaena.

“Indeed-but that still doesn’t answer my question,” said Daemon.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he replied smoothly, “I took some coin from the treasury.”

Daemon scoffed. “You mean you stole it.”

“That is enough” muttered Rhaenyra as she placed a calming hand on Daemon’s arm, but he yanked it away.

“-Actually, I want to know whose idea it was to let everyone believe that you were dead.”

Aemond held his gaze steadily. “It was mine.”

Daemon chuckled bitterly. “Of course, I knew it.” He reached for his goblet; eyes narrowed. “And why you went along with it is beyond me,” he muttered, looking pointedly at Valaena.

Valaena’s voice quavered as she replied, “It was the only way we could be together. We knew our relationship would never be accepted—”

Daemon’s eyes flashed. “You’re damn right it wouldn’t have been accepted.”

Valaena gasped, “Daemon—” But he slammed his fist on the table, rattling goblets and silencing the room.

“Do you have any idea the pain that you caused your mother?” he thundered, his voice low with barely controlled rage. “She had just lost Visenya, and then you go and let her believe she lost you, too.” His words struck like blows, and tears filled Valaena’s eyes. “-For five years, I watched my wife’s heart shatter, thinking that you were dead, while the whole time you were across the Narrow Sea, spreading your legs like a whore for that one-eyed cunt-”

Valaena’s lip trembled as she fought to hold back a sob. “Stop it!” she cried, but Daemon only pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

“If I had known about your so called relationship, I would have kept you two apart by force if necessary. I’d have thrown you in the dungeons and forced drink moon tea down your throat to stop you birthing his spawn!”

Aemond, enraged, rose from his chair. “You dare speak to my wife like that?” he growled.

Daemon, unsteady on his feet, sneered. “I will speak to my daughter however I please, especially after the pain she caused by allowing you to drag her into your scheme. Typical Hightower behaviour-where there’s a scheme there’s always one of you green cunts behind it”

The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes fixed on Daemon as Valaena rose from the table.

Her face went from shock to fury as she seized a jug of wine and threw its contents all over Daemon, completely soaking him.

“You want wine? There, have it. I hope you fucking drown in it. Don’t you dare speak about me or my husband like that again! It’s that very attitude that drove us away in the first place.”

Without another word, Valaena turned and stormed out of the room, Aemond quickly following.

Her anger simmered as she marched through the winding halls of the Red Keep, muttering to herself.

When they reached their chambers, she paced, her words spilling out as she ripped the leather gauntlet from her arm, tossing it to the floor. “How dare he! What was he thinking—Fucking disgraceful behaviour”

Aemond locked the door, his face unreadable as he approached her and cupped her face in his hands.

“Gīda ñuha zaldrīzes,” he murmured, his voice gentle. (Calm, my dragon)

“But he—” Her voice faltering as Aemond silenced her with a kiss, deep and grounding.

When Aemond pulled back, Valaena whispered angrily, “He deserves to have his throat cut.”

Aemond kissed her again, hands steady on her shoulders. “Nārhēdegon zirȳla, sagon kesīr lēda nyke sir,” he said, voice a quiet command. (Forget him. Be here with me now).

Valaena took a shuddering breath, nodding as she felt the ties of her dress loosening under his touch.

“Please Aemond” whispered Valaena as her dress slipped from her body, the material pooling at her feet.

“Nārhēdegon se vys, zȳha sepār īlva” muttered Aemond as he encouraged Valaena to lay on their bed (Forget the world, it’s just us).

“Gūrogon hen aōha grēze valzȳrys” replied Valaena as she reclined against the pillows (Take off your clothes husband).

Aemond stood before Valaena, his intense gaze never leaving hers as he reached for the buckle of his belt.

Slowly, with deliberate intent, he unfastened it, drawing the leather free from his waist and letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud.

Next, he shrugged off his leather jerkin, exposing the defined lines of his shoulders.

He placed it aside, and his hands moved to his cotton shirt, fingers working each button open one by one, his gaze still locked on hers as he slid it off, revealing the taut muscles beneath.

Aemond held her gaze with a slight, knowing smile as his hands dropped to the waistband of his breeches.

He took his time loosening them, then let them slide down, his small clothes following soon after, leaving him bared to her in the soft glow of the room.

Finally, he lifted his hand to the strap over his head, slipping it free and pulling off his eyepatch, revealing the sapphire where his left eye had once been.

He stepped toward her, his form both fierce and vulnerable, offering himself completely.

Then gently laid down next to her. His mouth claimed hers and his teeth pulled at her plump bottom lip.

Moving his hand down her body, he slid two long fingers into her cunny and speared them in and out of her at a slow gentle pace. His palm bumped against her pearl with each movement of his hand.

“Oh, Aemond” moaned Valaena desperately.

Aemond withdrew his hand from her wet centre and manoeuvred himself down the bed, leaving a trail of wet kisses on her skin, as he reached his desired destination he hooked his hands around her thighs, and his mouth descended on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into her core with his tongue. Valaena clutched at his head with one hand, whilst her other hand fisted the sheet.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast, and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunny.

Valaena ground down on Aemond, his tongue speared deeper inside her, as she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Yet Aemond withdrew and Valaena whimpered with frustration at the denial of her peak.

“So wet for me” muttered Aemond, his voice husky.

"P-Please Aemond. I-I need you” moaned Valaena.

Aemond smiled as he turned her over to her side and began suckling on her exposed neck.

"I want to feel you come all over my cock" growled Aemond.

Aemond lifted her leg and slowly slid his cock into her cunny.

Valaena grabbed hold of the sheet, and closed her eyes, letting out a gratifying moan.

Reaching back, she entwined her fingers into his long silver hair and whimpered, "More, Give me more".

Once Aemond was fully sheathed, he carefully grasped hold of her waist and started to slowly thrust into her.

"My sweet wife. How I love the feeling of your wet cunny squeezing my cock” exclaimed Aemond, his hot breath caressing her neck.

Valaena was so wet that he almost lost his grip and slipped out, but he managed to remain ensconced within her as he continued to thrust into her sweet tight cunt.

The sweat off her back rubbed against his chest and her moans and muffled groans were sweet music to his ears.

Aemond snaked a hand between her legs and rubbed her pearl repeatedly until the rise of heat engulfed her and toppled her right off the edge.

"Aemond, don't stop, my love" gasped Valaena, her cunny clenching his cock.

“Fuck, Valaena. Yes, that’s it” moaned Aemond thrusting one final time as he exploded deep inside her, rope after rope of his seed painting her inner walls.

Aemond buried his face in her dark hair and breathed in her familiar scent.

As he went to pull his softened cock from her, Valaena stopped him.

“Let’s just stay like this a little longer. Please”

Aemond nodded and pressed closer to his wife’s warm body.

A feeling of pure love shot through him, as he nuzzled the back of her neck with his nose.

TBC

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut

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flightlessangelwings · 1 day ago

Text

FawKtober2024 Part 8- Javier Peña

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Kinks- consensual non-consent (cnc), rough sex, aftercare

Word count- 1.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), rough sex, handcuffs, gags, consent is explicitly given and safewords are established, pet names (baby, sweetheart), no physical description of reader other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- Please be aware of the warnings on this one as it's rougher and not going to be for everyone! But I do love me some cnc and it's been a while since I wrote one so this was fun to write! Enjoy!

It was late, and Javier should have been back hours ago. You sat on the couch, the tv just background noise as you wrapped yourself up in a blanket waiting for him to get back. Stifling a yawn, you fidgeted in your spot as your nerves rose with every passing minute. Part of you was a little scared, but that was a part of the thrill of it all. And most of you was excited anyway. From the moment he called in the afternoon and said the secret code word, nothing else was on your mind.

You were so wrapped up in your own mind that you didn’t hear the door open and shut or the footsteps that got closer and closer to you. It wasn’t until a large hand covered your mouth that you knew you were no longer alone.

The hand stifled a scream as you struggled in its strong grip. You flailed your arms around as you thrashed in an attempt to break free, but the hands that held you were too strong. Plus, you were caught off guard, so any type of advantage you could have had was gone.

It wasn’t until you heard your name in a familiar voice that you froze.

“It’s me, baby,” Javier whispered in your ear. One hand kept you still on the couch while the other stayed over your mouth. He paused for a moment, giving you the chance to tap three times to end this if you wanted to. But, when you didn’t, he went back into character.

“Who would leave such a pretty thing home alone so late?” Javier’s tone dropped as he pushed you onto the couch on your stomach.

You yelped as you suddenly found yourself thrown down. But, before you could react, you felt a weight on top of you, pinning you down. You tried to wiggle your way out from underneath Javier, not wanting to make this too easy for him, but he was able to keep you in place.

“Fuck you,” you spat as you thrashed under his grip.

“I plan to,” Javier smirked from behind you as he pulled his handcuffs.

He was fast and nimble with his hands, and Javier had your arms tied behind your back before you could resist much. You whipped your shoulders around in an attempt to break free, but Javier let his entire body weight sit on your hips as he pushed you back down flat.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured as he ran his hands under your shirt and his calloused fingers grazed the skin of your back.

“Don’t touch me,” you jerked your body as much as you could, trying to fight the growing arousal between your legs.

“Oh,” Javier mocked you, “Don’t be like that, baby,” he let out a low growl as he suddenly yanked at your pants, tugging them off as you screamed and held your body down to keep him from undressing you.

“Stop it! No!” you yelled as you dug your hips into the couch.

“Shut your mouth,” Javier snapped, “Do you want the neighbors to hear?” It gave him an idea. Javier reached into his pocket and dug out a bandana and quickly tied it around your mouth. “It’s a shame to waste those pretty screams,” he rumbled, “But I don’t want to be interrupted.”

You whimpered as you rattled muffled insults through your gag. It only made Javier chuckle lowly. He took advantage of your distracted mind and tugged your pants and under off in one swoop, leaving you exposed. Your muffled cries only fueled him on more, and he felt his jeans tighten as he cock hardened.

“Shit, baby,” he whispered in awe as he soaked in the sight of you like this. You were cuffed, helpless, and at his mercy… and you had never looked more beautiful. Part of him wanted to stop this little game and kiss and make love to you tenderly and sweetly. But he knew how much you wanted this, and although he was reluctant at first, Javier now saw the appeal.

Another whimper from you broke Javier out of his trance, and he was reminded of the strain between his legs. He groaned as he quickly unzipped his jeans to free his aching cock as you squirmed under him.

“Gotta have you, sweetheart,” he growled through gritted teeth.

You tried to protest, tried to mumble a “no,” but all you could do was moan. Javier grabbed your scalp and buried your face in the couch cushion with one hand while his other reached between your legs and spread you open, exposing you to him. He growled in anticipation as you whined underneath him, turning him on even more.

In the blink of an eye, Javier suddenly thrust into you without warning. Your scream was muffled by the cushion and your gag, but his groan echoed in the room as he felt your warm tightness around him.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” Javier rumbled.

Tears filled your eyes at the sudden intrusion, and you felt an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that only Javier could bring you. You screamed into the couch as he thrust into you in slow but harsh movements. You tried to claw at him from where he bound your hands, but it was no use; all you could do was barely scratch at his skin as he had his way with you.

“Fuck,” Javier groaned as he sped up his pace, fucking you harder than he ever had before.

Your cries of pain quickly turned to pleasure as you could no longer pretend you didn’t want what Javi gave you. Muffled moans filled the gag as your eyes rolled back with every harsh thrust of his hips. He almost actually hurt you, and you loved it. You craved more. You wanted more, harder, faster.

“Javi…” you managed to mumble through the bandanna.

“That’s it, baby,” Javi encouraged you as he slapped your ass once, making you yelp. “That’s it,” he grunted as he thrust himself as deep inside you as he possibly could.

Tears fell from your eyes as you moaned into your gag as his thick cock filled you harshly over and over again. Your world felt like it was crumbling around you, like an earthquake and a hurricane at the same time. You felt like your body was on fire and about to be ripped apart simultaneously. It was pain and it was pleasure and it was everything and more. And it was perfect.

And that was when Javi growled in your ear, “Gonna cum, baby,” his low rumble went right to your core and you squeezed your inner muscles around his cock, “You gonna let me cum in you like a good fucking girl?”

You choked on your own spit as he yanked on the back of your neck, “Uh-huh,” you mumbled through the gag.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “You gotta cum too, baby. You gotta cum on my cock even if you don’t want to.”

A mix of a whine and the most obscene moan escaped your lips as your mind spun. He adjusted his angle so that his cock struck your sweet spot with precision, and it made you cry out through your gag. Your tears soaked the bandanna as your moans got louder as your climax started to build, as much as you tried to fight it.

“I feel you fighting it, baby,” Javier growled, “It only makes me wanna make you cum more,” he sped up his thrusts, pounding into you with wanton lust that completely took over his mind.

Javier’s hips slapped against yours as heat rose in the room. It didn’t take much longer for him to get what he wanted as he felt your body tense underneath him. You screamed into the bandanna as you trembled under his body and your climax washed over your body, filling you with pleasure. Javier grunted as he finally let himself go and his hips stuttered as he came just behind you, spilling himself into you as a string of curses spilled from his lips.

Exhausted, Javier fell forward and collapsed down onto you with a groan. Together the two of you laid on the couch in a sweaty mess as you both caught your breaths. Javi kissed your skin where he could reach as he carefully tugged at the bandanna. You gasped as your mouth was freed finally and you took a deep breath through your lips.

“You ok, baby?” Javi asked in a softer tone.

“Perfect,” you replied in a hoarse voice and a smile on your face. Turning your head to meet his gaze, you added, “Thanks for indulging me, Javi.”

Javi smiled down at your before he kissed you tenderly on the lips, “I’ll admit I enjoyed it too,” he smirked against you, “Thanks for talking me into this.”

That made you laugh as you kissed him again, chasing his lips every time he tried to pull away.

“Now let me take care of you, baby,” Javi murmured, “I got you.”

“I know you do,” you whispered as you felt him push himself up, whimpering as he pulled out of you, “I trust you, Javi.”

Javi didn’t say anything as he uncuffed you and rolled you onto your side, gathering you in his arms. He wrapped himself around you and held you close as he kissed your temple. You nuzzled into his chest as you let out a sigh, placing feather light kisses on his chest as you closed your eyes contently.

“You know I’d never hurt you for real, right?” Javi broke the silence as he caressed you, “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I know, Javi,” you said, “That’s why I trust you and no one else to do this with me. We’re alright.”

“We’re alright,” he repeated as he rested his head against yours, “We’re alright, baby.

88 notes · View notes

lisired · 19 hours ago

Text

(at the end of the day) everybody dies

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: angst, smut, major character death, graphic descriptions of violence

summary: denial after denial, your step-brother continues to nag you about an upcoming high school reunion, until you finally agree to tag along. it’s awkward seeing your ex-boyfriend, haechan, again for the first time in years, but you have no time to dwell on the past with the threat of undead students banging on the school gates.

word count: 20k

a/n: part 3/3 of my wanted: dead or alive series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to leave this school, to never step foot here again, but you had made a promise you were none too keen on breaking.

Though to be fair, you had been pressured and borderline manipulated into coming. Mark, your stepbrother, was the only reason you had bothered to show up at all. You had no idea why he couldn’t drag himself to your stupid high school reunion on his own.

But alas, what your annoying little stepbrother wanted, he almost always received. Though not without a fair tradeoff. You would be sure to do something that would momentarily destroy his life at some point.

At the moment, the idea of storming out and abandoning him without a ride was particularly appetizing.

“Mark, I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you said as you approached the fiery, demonic gates of hell.

Mark rolled his eyes for the nth time today alone. You had been insufferable about this entire trip ever since he (forcibly) asked you to come. “We’re already here. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not too late to turn around,” you reminded, scratching at the blue denim of your pants. “We can always change our minds, you know. Go shopping instead.”

“Not a chance,” Mark replied, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you straight ahead. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, but Mark gave you little to no say in the matter. He pushed you forward until you exasperatedly swatted his hands away, insisting that you knew how to walk on your own, and braced yourself for the inevitable havoc.

You both knew the real reason you didn’t want to come back here and it had nothing to do with the school itself. Well, maybe. There were a lot of memories you’d buried on school grounds, good and bad. Some memories better than others. Some unspeakable. The point was that your rationale behind leaving was something much darker.

Walking through the double entrance of your former school, you were surprised by how uniquely different and yet familiar the place looked on both the inside and outside. The campus looked recently renovated, but it wasn’t completely unrecognizable. There were the usual old brick walls, but fresh blue paint and brand new white pillars.

You wondered if they finally upgraded the bathrooms. Though you had wanted better ones since freshman year, even when you graduated, they were still pathetically disgusting. The entire student body had been hoping for something cleaner. More like begging.

Mark studied the entrance hall in awe for a moment before flitting his gaze back to you, patting you on the shoulder. “We’re early. Wander around a little bit. See how much the school has changed over the past decade. That’ll give you enough time to get your mind together before the others get here.”

You silently shrugged in answer, deliberately sulky. Mark had definitely planned this out. No doubt he had been expecting your stubbornness.

With that, Mark turned and started down the hallway, most likely going to check out the school for himself. You didn’t understand why he was here any more than you understood yourself. He wasn’t even a part of your senior class.

You stood in place for a moment as you glanced about awkwardly, uncertain of here to go first. There were so many options, and far too many of them brought back forbidden memories. The kind that you were to never, under any circumstances, speak of.

After a long minute of wavering, you ultimately decided to pace in the direction of the lockers, concluding it was the safest option. Despite how many years had gone by, the journey still felt so natural. The route was engraved inside your memory, with the once in a lifetime experience of not having to shove past other students in a crowded hallway.

The lockers looked a little different. They were still the very exact shade of blue they had been a decade ago, but with some touch ups. You stood in front of yours, something bittersweet making your heart throb. Many memories existed here. Stupid, petty arguments and stolen kisses.

With how engrossed in your thoughts you were, the last thing you were expecting was for someone to come up behind you.

“Boo!”

You jumped, screaming as loud as your lungs would let you. Startled, you jolted to look to the other side, coming face to face with Johnny Suh. “God, you asshole,” you swore, a hand put over your speeding heart. “I can already tell you’re still annoying.”

Johnny laughed. “Is that your way of greeting someone you haven’t seen in years?”

You scoffed, very familiar with Johnny’s shenanigans, and retorted, “Only if scaring the living the hell out of them is yours.”

Despite the annoyance in your tone, you pulled Johnny in for a well-overdue hug. And Johnny, ever the gentleman, made sure to ensure maximum distance between your bodies. Maybe it was a little bit too chivalrous. Sure, a whole decade had gone by, and Johnny had always been respectful, but he had never been one to mind a splash of contact between friends.

Male or female, for the record. You pulled away first, crossing your arms in suspicion. “What’s her name?”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed. Was that a serious question? “You just gave me the most courteous hug ever and I know you’re the last person to be scared of tits. You definitely have a girlfriend.”

“Fiancée, actually,” Johnny replied with a smile, holding up his hand to show off the band on his finger. “I’m engaged. I bought us matching rings.”

You gawked, surprised. Johnny was one of the few people in the bunch who you had never imagined to have a successful long-term relationship, so this kind of life update was totally unexpected. “Engaged to who?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“Victoria,” Johnny replied casually.

That threw you for another loop. Victoria, as in Victoria Kim? The same Victoria you literally bet five dollars wouldn’t take Johnny back if he was the last guy on earth? There was no way in hell. “Didn’t you guys break up?”

Johnny smirked, having been anticipating that reaction from you. Everyone he knew had been in a state of shock when he mentioned he’d rekindled his relationship with his high school sweetheart. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Understatement of the decade. Literally. There were only a few people you were currently up to date with in your former friend group, although that was merely because of forced proximity. Mark, Taeyong, and Jaehyun were all in some kind of dance squad together with a couple of other buddies they had.

Johnny, on the other hand, had become something like a ghost after graduation. You knew virtually nothing about his life after high school and you hadn’t really made an effort to maintain the friendship via social media, which was partly because of the fact that your account had gotten hacked by some stalker, but that was an entirely different conversation.

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts away. “Congratulations,” you replied, still reeling with shock.

“Thank you,” Johnny said, leaning against the lockers. “What about you? Dating anyone?”

Your eyes widened, although you probably should have been expecting it. Fuck’s sake, this was a high school reunion. There were going to be a million questions thrown at you about your personal life and you had to be prepared to answer all of them. “Me? No. I’ve had a few brief stints, but nothing lasting.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, tempted to probe you about the brief stints in question, but held himself back. He didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. “Ah, I get it. The dating pool is pretty fucked up right now anyway. You’re not missing out.”

“Says the engaged man,” you quipped. “You don’t have to say things just to make me feel better.”

Johnny threw his hands up. “You caught me.”

You grinned, appreciating the fact that Johnny was still admirably sincere. He kept things real, but he was cautious with his words and did his best not to hurt anyone’s feelings. You could see the maturity in his face and although it gave you whiplash, it was a pleasant addition to his character.

There was still a lot to get used to. You were genuinely happy for his engagement, however, you would be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in all the wrong wounds. So many years ago, everybody said it would be you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. And now ironically, Johnny would be getting married to the same woman everyone swore he wouldn’t last three seconds with.

Which, according to Victoria herself, was very inapplicable in bed. And to be fair, they had dated without breakups for nearly two years in high school.

You forced the thought out of your head again, knowing that you were cruising down dangerous waters. Glancing up at Johnny, you asked, “Did you get taller?”

Johnny glanced down at you, noting the remarkable high difference he had never failed to tease you over in high school, and replied, “I’ve always been taller than you.”

“No shit,” you replied, because that wasn’t even what you had asked. “But did you grow?”

Johnny teased, “Nah. I think you just got shorter.”

You rolled your eyes and directed your attention back to the blue lockers, too annoyed to look at his face. Your lockers were right next to each other, meaning you got the pleasant luxury of hearing him and Victoria make out before every other class period like the two love-struck teenagers they had been.

Not that you had been much better.

“Haechan’s been single too,” Johnny told you offhandedly.

You furrowed your brows. “I didn’t ask about Haechan.”

“No, but you were thinking about him.”

He had you there. Haechan had been all you could think about since the moment Mark asked if he could drag you along with him to this goddamn reunion, and he was single-handedly the only reason why you would have rather been at home. The thought that you would inevitably have to face him at some point today made you immensely antsy.

No one needed to know that though. You didn’t want to seem like you weren’t over a relationship you had been in literally a lifetime ago. “And what would you like me to do with that information?”

Johnny shrugged, but there was a certain hint of mischief to the smile on his lips, and you weren’t even remotely curious about what it meant. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just saying. He’s single, you’re single. I thought you would be curious.”

“Not even a little bit,” you lied through your teeth.

Johnny could see straight through your tale, but he didn’t call you out on it. He didn’t need to. You were already filling in the blanks on your own, just as he had intended. “If you say so.”

You considered giving him a snarky response, but you refrained, deciding that you’d rather keep up your facade of nonchalance. In no way would you give the impression that you were invested in Haechan’s love life. Instead, you deflected the attention, asking, “How’s Vicky?”

“She’s doing great,” Johnny replied, smiling at the mere mention of his betrothed. You could tell he was smitten. “She works in the foreign language department of a beauty brand and she makes good money doing it too.”

You were pleased to hear that. “No surprise there. She’s always been the better bilingual.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny agreed. “She speaks flawless Korean and rarely mixes it with English. I’m kinda jealous. But at least living in Korea improved my accent.”

You gawked and raised your voice up a shrill pitch, asking, “When the hell did you do that?”

“Like I said, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Johnny teased, seemingly having fun dropping all this new information on you out of the blue. “Anyway, I’ll catch you in a bit. I’m gonna go see if Jaehyun’s made it here yet.”

“Okay. Good luck finding him if he has. That guy can hide anywhere,” you joked.

“Not from me, he can’t,” Johnny said with a chuckle, turning and heading down the hall.

You heaved a breath when he was gone. The first conversation had gone by smoother than anticipated, which took a few weights off your shoulders, but not many. You were still dreading bumping into your ex.

With a hand wound through your hair, you willed yourself not to make a beeline for the gates. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to speak to anybody already. You thought Mark had said you’d have some time before the others got here. Then again, Johnny was nothing if not punctual. You couldn’t think of a single time he had arrived late to homeroom, even if all he did was goof off.

At the thought of Mark, you decided to find wherever the hell he had ran off to. The school wasn’t that damn interesting. There were only a number of places actually worth visiting the last time you’d stepped foot on campus.

You predictably found him in the courtyard, where you remembered Mark had spent the bulk of his free time, usually chatting with his fellow underclassmen or writing underneath one of the trees by the fountain. At the moment, however, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain obviously flirting with a very pretty girl.

Mark had his arm draped over Xiu’s shoulder and a hand over her thigh, which was crossed on top of her other leg. They were laughing about something that must’ve been super funny, because the way her body rattled as she laughed was almost violent. The whole sight was disappointing.

Normally, you would never deliberately get in the way of your brother’s endeavors to score a beautiful lady, but today had given you a lot of momentum. You pranced over like a disapproving parent, arms folded.

“I guess I know the real reason you wanted to come here, Mark,” you said as they noticed you approaching.

Mark’s face flushed slightly, like he had been caught. Xiu, on the other hand, laughed and stood to give you a hug. “Oh my god. I haven’t seen you in, like, forever,” she said.

You unfolded your arms to hug her back, grinning from ear to ear as you went in, but making sure to send a disdainful glare Mark’s way over her shoulder. “I know,” you replied, pulling back with a beaming smile. “How’s life abroad?”

Xiu went on to gush about her life in Guangzhou, where she had moved after graduation to live with her maternal grandmother. With how she spoke of the city’s food and culture, you almost wanted to take a vacation yourself. She asked you about your life away from the city too, seeming genuinely intrigued.

Though she was entirely none the wiser to the look Mark was giving you as he sat behind her on the fountain. He looked like he wanted to mangle you. You barely suppressed a laugh, but somehow managed to keep it in until you begrudgingly decided to leave after a few more minutes.

“I think I’m gonna go now. Wouldn’t wanna get in the way of whatever you two obviously have going on,” you said after a moment, donning a perfect smile.

Mark looked relieved, resisting a grateful sigh. Xiu thought nothing of your departure. If anything, she seemed a little disappointed, but she knew she’d see you again once the gathering kicked off. She said your name and bid you goodbye. “See you in a few,” she told you, waving.

Reciprocating her kindness, you waved back, turning around and heading back inside the school.

You hadn’t shown it while Xiu was still paying attention, but you were definitely more than a little mad at Mark right now. The sheer audacity of him to bring you here knowing you were scared shitless of running into your ex, solely so that he had an excuse to speak to some girl he liked. Was he fucking serious?

It was the ultimate betrayal. No wonder he’d been so adamant on showing up to a high school reunion despite for one, it having nothing to do with him, but for two, him already being up to date with half the people attending.

Maybe you were being overdramatic. The moment Mark first saw Xiu it had practically been love upon first sight. He’d had a crush on her since his freshman year and pined over her like some hopeless idiot until she graduated. It was something of a miracle she was actually paying attention to him now. You should have been happy.

Pacing down another hallway, you bristled with annoyance. Then, a familiar face caught your eye, standing in front of a bulletin board between two classrooms. “Tae,” you called out.

Taeyong turned his head, smiling when he recognized you. “Hey, bossy. How’s it going?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname, exhaling a breath as you came closer. “At this rate, I’m gonna need a detailed timeline describing the events of everyone’s lives over the past ten years,” you quipped.

Taeyong burst into laughter. “I get it. Did you know Johnny is getting married?”

“He just told me a few moments ago,” you replied, still feeling the after effects of shock. “And to Victoria of all people. Like, I never thought she would take him back. He must have seriously grown up.”

Taeyong nodded along. “Oh, yeah. Johnny’s grown up big time. I swear, it gives me whiplash sometimes.”

You didn’t know exactly why Johnny and Victoria had broken up. She only voluntarily gave her side of the story to a select few people and went on about her life as if he’d never existed in it whatsoever. But it wasn’t difficult to assume that it was Johnny’s teenaged boy tendencies that had culminated in a devastating breakup.

Their entire relationship was a mystery at this point and you were kind of tempted to get to the bottom of it all. “I’m still waiting to figure out how they even made up with each other. From what I remember, their breakup was pretty final.”

Taeyong hummed. “My thing is they were in different places. I think Johnny just needed some time to learn about life and Victoria needed to focus on herself. They couldn’t grow together.”

That was a perspective you had never considered before. You had always just assumed that with Johnny’s track record, Victoria finally realized she was way out of his league. “That’s true. I hear she’s doing really well. I’m glad they’re both in a spot where they can be happy on their own as well as with each other.”

There was a curious gleam in Taeyong’s gaze, but if he was thinking about something in particular, he didn’t say a word. “How are you doing? The last time I saw you, you were super grouchy. I’ll never forget the way you took over our practice.”

“I did not take over your practice,” you insisted, although he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I just couldn’t help but notice you guys were a little out of sync. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks so much,” Taeyong replied with a hint of sarcasm. “You didn’t answer the question though.”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing?”

Taeyong was someone you didn’t feel like you had to hide with. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body and he was the least judgmental person you knew. “I’m okay,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging. “I didn’t really want to come here, to be honest. But Mark always gets whatever he wants eventually.”

“I figured,” Taeyong said, chuckling in amusement. Mark was rather spoiled. “I was surprised when Mark told us you were coming.”

“Have you seen him?”

Taeyong had a strong feeling that you weren’t talking about your stepbrother. “Haechan? No. He probably overslept or something. Might have even forgot the reunion was today at all.”

You laughed, but you strongly doubted it. Haechan wasn’t a very forgetful guy. His sharp memory had been his whole excuse to whisk you off on random dates. He always remembered your anniversaries, the day you first met, the day you first said you loved each other.

No, Haechan would never forget something like this. If he didn’t show up, it was because he didn’t want to. And you had a feeling you knew why.

You veiled the nostalgic emotions racing through you behind a smile. “That’s awfully optimistic. Anyways, I couldn’t help but notice that we’re standing right beside Doctor Nam’s class.”

Taeyong nodded, grinning from ear to ear. Ironically, there wasn’t much about that class to smile about, but it resuscitated some happy memories. “This is my first stop. I had to come here right away. It’s been so long.”

You shook your head, wistful. “God, she was the best. She literally kept us alive in third period with the snacks she passed out.”

“Yeah, because she knows AP English Lit is boring,” Taeyong said with a chortle. “My nephew says she still hands them around.”

That surprised you a little bit. You usually saw teachers get grouchier as they got older. You had to commend her for not losing her mind after more than a decade of teaching obnoxious teenagers. “That’s good to know. Wish we had snacks in calculus.”

Taeyong feigned a look of disappointment. “You would get one headache and immediately say, ‘I need a nap.’”

You nodded in confirmation, grinning at that. “That does sound like me. Everybody was so surprised I said I was majoring in computer science as if I don’t do the same shit at my job. The second I get home, I drop like a rock.”

Taeyong gave you a pat on the shoulder. He knew about your job and from what you’d told him, it sounded both complicated and stressful. He would much rather keep to dancing. “Women in STEM,” he retorted.

You scoffed and shook your head. For sure, your work left much to be desired, but you had worked your ass off for it and it paid the bills. “Hey, I’m gonna go see if I can find Jaehyun,” you said, a sudden thought appearing in your mind. “Johnny went looking for him a while ago and I hope he doesn’t remember that I owe him five bucks now.”

Taeyong looked confused for all of seven seconds before he keeled over in laughter. “Oh my god. You made a bet that Victoria was never taking Johnny back, right?”

“Yes, and Jaehyun, being the dickrider that he is, just had to oppose me and stand up for his bestie,” you droned.

“If he hasn’t asked you about it now, he probably forgot,” Taeyong replied, smiling wryly.

That was wishful thinking and you both knew it, but it was true that Jaehyun hadn’t said a word to you about it, and you highly doubted he’d been oblivious to Johnny’s engagement like you were. “I hope so. See you in a bit.”

Taeyong waved you goodbye, shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing to read from the bulletin board.

Only when you set off on your journey did it occur to you that you had no idea whatsoever where to find Jaehyun, and the school was big as hell. You rooted in the middle of the hallway, thinking. You were still on the first floor, as was everyone else you’d met so far, which made it reasonable to assume that Jaehyun hadn’t made it too far either.

If I was Jeong Jaehyun, where would I hide, you thought to yourself, humming. Assuming he had shown up on his own will, unlike you, you expected him to be somewhere mingling with the bunch.

So imagine your surprise when you saw him standing at the trophy wall.

Jaehyun turned, having heard your footsteps, and smiled when he recognized you. “You came,” he said, pleasantly surprised.

You nodded, coming up beside him. Though you were sure to leave a little bit of distance between your bodies. “You sound shocked.”

“Can you blame me?” Jaehyun asked. You were expecting him to then go on about the very obvious reason everyone had for not expecting to see you, but he didn’t say anything.

Now it was your turn to be surprised. But you didn’t let it show, hiding it behind amusement. “Well, I guess not.”

Jaehyun chuckled and tilted his head. He was watching the wall in front of you both with a certain fondness in his eyes. And something vaguely nostalgic.

You followed his gaze. The trophy wall had everything you would expect a display case to have. There were numerous things dating back to the year the school was established, including a framed photo of the basketball team from the year you’d graduated. Johnny, who had been team captain at the time, was crouched down in the front with a ball in his hands. And Jaehyun was right beside him, as to be expected.

“You know, I never imagined you going from basketball to dance,” you mentioned, peering up at him. “Maybe I should have. The level of footwork required is crazy.”

Jaehyun snickered, his head bobbing as he giggled. “I guess you could say I graduated.”

Your lips twitched as you desperately tried not to laugh, but to no avail. “I knew you were gonna say something stupid. You get that look in your eye and start laughing.”

“You laughed too.”

“Yeah, but not because of what you said.”

“I still made you laugh. A win is a win.”

You exhaled dramatically, relenting. Then, you giggled again. Likely a thing to happen when you were in a high school with a handsome boy. “Yes, that’s true, I guess. You did make me laugh.”

Jaehyun beamed triumphantly. “You have a cute smile. You should laugh more. You’re always so serious.”

Your brows stitched, but you brushed it off. It was a harmless compliment. “Um, thanks,” you replied bashfully.

The floor squeaked. Though you could have sworn the sound came from behind you, there was no one there when you glanced over your shoulder. You ignored it, chalking it up to someone walking down the hallway.

“I heard the dance crew is going really well,” you continued, changing the topic. “Mark won’t shut up about practicing.”

“Weren’t you bossing us around the last time I saw you?” Jaehyun asked, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes and dramatically groaned, “For the love of God, I was not bossing you guys around. And even if I was, you kinda needed it.”

Jaehyun’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “What would we do without your constructive criticism?”

“Die, probably,” you retorted. “Hey, did you know that Johnny is getting married? My bad. That’s a stupid question. Of course you know.”

Jaehyun was amused. “Yeah, I’ve known for a while. He wants me to be his best man.”

You shook your head in mock disappointment, asking, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Did you not get an invite?”

That question surprised you. You figured he would have known. You told him no and explained, “Johnny and I haven’t been keeping in touch. I honestly think today was my first time seeing him in, like, eight years? The last time I saw him was at Xiu’s send-off party.”

“Maybe you can be my plus one. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having you,” Jaehyun suggested.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, but now you were fairly certain that you weren’t crazy. Was Jeong Jaehyun flirting with you?

That made you curious. All those times you had seen Jaehyun when visiting Mark at your parents’ house, and never once did it cross your mind to stop and ask if he was single. “You don’t already have a plus one?”

The implications of your question were obvious. Jaehyun shook his head and timidly confessed, “No. Dating has been pretty shaky for me, to be honest. And Mark told me you’re not seeing anybody. I didn’t ask, I swear.”

“Mark needs to get the hell out of my business,” you replied lightheartedly, clearly only half meaning it. “But he’s not wrong. Dating has been shaky for me too.”

“Maybe we can be shaky together,” Jaehyun said in his usual, slow and melodic voice. “And because I like you, I won’t hold you to that bet we made in school.”

You gaped, stunned. You obviously hadn’t been expecting that. So he did remember.

Jaehyun gave you a knowing smile and slithered away, most likely to find some hole in the ground to crawl inside. He wanted to leave before he potentially embarrassed himself in front of you.

Now you were interested. That was a turn you hadn’t seen coming, but it certainly had your attention. You and Jeong Jaehyun. You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of that sooner. Jaehyun was the perfect storm of ideal attributes in a man. He was handsome, talented, just the right amount of weird, and very respectful. More or less everything you had ever wanted.

You could’ve gone on, but there was one more place you wanted to visit before it was time to reunite with the others. The single most well-funded location on the entire campus.

There was a weird sense of pride when you stepped onto the campus football field, which was ironic, because you had never been one to care too much about school sports. Much less the ones your friends weren’t participating in. The quality of the field may have been prioritized over the dark, unimaginable bathrooms, but at least it looked pretty.

Plus the team was full of admirably gifted players, at least when you were in school. So not only did the field make the school look good, but its champion teams did too.

You meandered over towards the back of the bleachers. There were more memories this field had to offer than just football games you’d been dragged to. You could see images of yourself hiding behind the bleachers, a particular boy in your arms.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, clad in black leather.

“We used to have a time here.”

You gasped and whipped around. Your stomach physically dropped when you locked eyes with the last person you wanted to see.

Haechan waved at you with a sly smile, not seeming even remotely remorseful for startling you. “Sorry. Was that too forward?”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but resisted. “Since when have you ever cared about being too forward?”

“You make a very valid argument,” Haechan said, snickering.

Looking at his face, you felt a familiar knot return to your stomach and it only tightened when you met his eyes. You didn’t know why people called them butterflies. They’d always felt more like a flock of wild, vicious birds.

Not to mention he’d brought up what you used to do behind the bleachers. The mere thought damn near made you paralyze on the spot. Suddenly, you were remembering what it was like to sneak behind them for another tryst of stolen kisses and tender touches. Haechan had made you your most rebellious. There was never a dull moment with him. Everything he did was to feel alive and naturally you soaked in all that energy.

Johnny and Victoria, with all their differences, were the couple that no one had expected. Victoria was brilliant and thorough. She was the good girl. Johnny was impulsive and smart when he tried. He was always looking for mischief and fun. There was a certain uproar they’d received upon announcing their relationship that you and Haechan shockingly never had.

You and Haechan had your fair share of differences too, but in a way that complemented the other. Haechan, for all his recklessness, was intelligent and perceptive. He loved having meaningful conversations that required thought, and he loved having them at quick paces.

That never bothered you like it did with other people. You loved discovering and learning about other people’s opinions on all sorts of topics, even if you didn’t necessarily agree. You loved expanding your horizons and seeing the world. And Haechan never ran out of things, ideas, or places to show you.

It was frustrating that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of what you’d had with him, and you were struggling not to show it. But you didn’t want to make things awkward, so you said, “You look good.”

Haechan flapped his leather jacket and replied, “Thanks. You look great yourself.”

You forced yourself to maintain your gaze. The sight of him used to make you smile. Now, it made your stomach ache. “How have you been doing?” you made yourself ask.

Haechan shrugged. “I’ve been pretty good. I just bought a new bike.”

You hummed. Haechan always did love motorbikes. In high school, he dreamed of one with a beautiful, black stain and a flair of red with insane, unrivaled speed. The fact that he said a new bike must’ve been he’d had one and then some. “Ah,” you replied, not surprised. “You still love those death machines.”

“I do,” Haechan said, even though you hadn’t phrased it like a question. “Probably even more now that I’ve owned a few. What about you? How have you been?”

Donning your most confident smile, you ignored the flutter in your gut and chirped, “Oh, I’m wonderful, you know. In all the ways that matter. I bought my first house last year and since I actually have a backyard now, I’ve been really into gardening and meditating.”

Haechan was impressed. “Wow. That is wonderful. I don’t think I’m ready to give up the whole apartment thing yet.”

You chuckled. That was very on brand of him. You used to joke that Haechan was allergic to being in the same place for too long and a complete adrenaline junkie. At some point, you were the only thing that managed to keep his attention for longer than a week.

“What’s funny?” he asked with a hint of confusion.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. There was still a faint smile on your face. “It just sounds like you.”

Haechan retorted, “Well, I hope so. I am me, after all. And I take great pride in living up to my name.”

“I bet you do.”

You had more to say, but no courage to say it. It was most likely going to be awkward or embarrassing. Maybe it was a good thing you faintly heard someone barreling through the doors to join you both outside.

Saved by the bell, Johnny came running towards you both at a speed you hadn’t seen in literal years. “You two need to go inside. There’s zombies everywhere,” he panted out.

You rolled your eyes. Everybody had said Johnny had grown up, and now he was talking about zombies. “Very funny, Johnny.”

Haechan snickered. You both clearly assumed he was joking, which was totally fair. For one, zombies were outrageous. But for two, Johnny had always loved to play silly tricks on his friends back in the day and you surmised that this was no different.

“I’m serious,” Johnny said in a voice more stern than you had ever heard from him before. It was extremely unlike him. “I know it sounds crazy, but they’re surrounding the school!”

You and Haechan glanced at each other, sharing the same doubtful expression. But the look on Johnny’s face was weirdly authentic.

In the middle of your telepathic exchange, you heard weird breathing coming from behind you and turned to see someone slowly but steadily climbing over the gate. They were stained almost head to toe in blood and there was a gnarly bruise on their face. And in that moment, you knew it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the air fleeing your lungs.

Johnny’s face darkened. “Let’s go. Right now.”

You didn’t even notice that you’d gone completely rigid. Haechan grabbed your hand and started pulling you along from the spot where you’d rooted in unwavering fear, dragging you back towards the school.

The thudding in your chest was violent. It gave the throbbing pulse you got around Haechan a run for its money. You didn’t even know how to react to this kind of situation, other than running for dear life. And even that practically had to be done on your behalf. There was no prior experience to compare it to for reference.

After what felt like an eternity of sprinting, the three of you locked yourselves inside the closest room with a door you could find, which happened to be the computer lab. The sole sound in the room was your collective panting, but the only thing you could hear was your pulse thudding in your ears.

Johnny grabbed one of two tables pressed against the wall and began to drag it across the floor, obviously about to block the door. Which was a very rational, very logical response, but it made you flare up with concern.

“Johnny, wait,” you said, eyes widening. “Mark. I don’t know if Mark is okay. The last time I saw him, he was with Xiu in the courtyard.”

Johnny paused, bracing his hands on the table, and glanced down as he tried to think. “It’s dangerous to go back out,” he warned.

You knew that, but it didn’t change anything. No matter how infuriating Mark could be, you couldn’t rest until you knew he was safe. “I don’t care. He’s my little brother. I have to make sure he’s alright.”

“Then, I’m going with you,” Haechan said in a tone that left no room for argument. His fingers were still intertwined with yours.

Johnny shook the hair out of his face. There was no doubt that he was against the idea, but he knew how important Mark was to you. “Fine. But you both need to be extremely careful. Okay?”

Haechan looked determined, brave. You didn’t know how he was keeping himself together while you were on the very verge of panic. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Your eyes darted back to Johnny. You didn’t want to leave him here on his own, but you knew he was capable of taking care of himself. “Do you want us to find Victoria?”

Johnny shook his head. “No. I told her to hide in one of the classrooms while I looked for you guys. She’s safe.”

You blew out a breath of relief. That was one less person you had to worry about. Now you just had to see if the others had found some kind of shelter, especially your stepbrother. “Good. You should be careful too. We’ll text you if we find out something,” you said, reluctant.

“I’ll be okay. Go,” Johnny told you firmly.

Haechan didn’t need to be told twice. He gave Johnny a wordless nod and led you out of the lab, shutting the door behind you both as quietly as possible. There was no telling if the zombies had made their way inside yet, but you would much rather be safe than sorry.

Nothing about the hallways soothed your unease. They were alarmingly quiet and the only source of noise was the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. The one thing providing you comfort was ironically Haechan’s hand gripping tightly onto yours, a gentle reminder of the fact that you weren’t alone.

“I wonder if he’s still in the courtyard,” you whispered. “He can’t be, right? They would have seen something by now.”

Haechan wanted to tell you something reassuring, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He said your name calmly. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

You frowned. You couldn’t stand the uncertainty around Mark’s safety. He may not have been your blood, but he was still family and the only sibling you had. If you lost him to something as insane as undead creatures, it would shatter you irreparably.

“Hey, we’re gonna find him,” Haechan told you softly, recognizing the look of dread on your face. “Don’t worry.”

“I really hope so,” you whispered.

In total, there was one positive to this bizarre situation and that was that you didn’t have time or space to worry about the rift between you and your old lover. The threat of potentially losing each other permanently forced you to stick together in ways unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

Literally. You were so close to Haechan, hand in hand with your side mere centimeters away from his hip, you couldn’t tell if it was the cause for your speeding heartbeat or the fear with its hand clasped tightly around your throat. Maybe it was both.

Either way, you were in panic mode and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You were the queen of overthinking, and at the moment, it was all you could do not to compulsively think about Mark. If he was okay, if he and Xiu had managed to isolate themselves, and whether or not he was even aware of the dangers lurking just around the corner.

You had so many questions. Many of them had to do with the mystery behind how there were even actual, legitimate zombies in the first place, but you knew no one around you would have answers. It was all completely insane, but you had seen the one climbing over the gate with your own eyes. It looked real and terrifying.

There was a sudden sound. You knew you hadn’t made it up in your head, because Haechan tugged at your arm to keep you in place, hiding you behind him.

“What is it?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulders.

Haechan put a finger to his lip, effectively quieting you. Had it been any other day, you would have playfully gotten on him for shushing you, but absolutely nothing about today was typical.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention. You couldn’t see anything, but at the very least, you knew they were too fast to be zombies. It sounded like someone was scurrying down the halls as if they were being chased, which wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.

Not a second later, Mark turned down the hallway with his fingers wound protectively around Xiu’s hand. His eyes lifted in surprise. “Dude,” he said, obviously shaken up. “You guys will never believe what we just saw.”

You took a wild guess and asked, “Zombies?”

Mark gawked. “How did you know?”

“We saw them too,” Haechan answered for you. “Johnny says they’re surrounding the school. We need to get somewhere safe.”

“Where should we go?” Xiu asked, eyes dampening with unshed tears. She had always been sensitive to every emotion imaginable.

Haechan shrugged. “Anywhere is better than the middle of the hallway right now.”

Mark scratched his head. “Well, the closest place I can think of is the gym. We can at least head there to make a plan.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to stabilize yourself. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s do it.”

No one argued. The four of you were quick to beetle down the halls in the direction of the school’s gym as if you were being hunted like prey. But the fact that there were more than two of you provided some easy reassurance.

You were remembering how long the hallways were and exactly why they gave you eight minutes to travel from class to class, though even that didn’t feel like enough at times. Granted, you used to spend half that time kissing and making out, but that was only natural. You were grateful there weren’t thousands of students to shove past at the moment.

There were a few times where you’d almost tripped over your own legs with how quickly you were sprinting, and when you finally rounded the corner to the gym, the four of you hurried inside, checking for even the smallest indication of undead interference. It didn’t seem like they had made their way inside yet. Still, you knew it was only a matter of time before they did, so you texted Johnny and the others your whereabouts.

The hope was that everyone would be able to meet up safely at one place, in one piece. Your best bet at survival would be to stick together, rather than individually trying to take all of those monsters on your own. You tried to call the police with that same logic, but no calls would connect.

More importantly, you hadn’t heard from Taeyong or Jaehyun since you’d briefly spoken to them in the hallway, and that thought made you more than a little anxious. Their chances of survival were decent as long as they hadn’t gone to the courtyard or something, but at the same time, being indoors meant you had to assume they didn’t know about the danger on the horizon.

“Guys, I can’t wrap my head around this,” you said out loud, sitting next to Haechan on the bleachers. He scooted over, finally giving you some room to breathe. “Zombies?”

“Man, it looked real,” Mark said, shaking his head in disbelief.

That was the problem. It looked real, but there was no logical explanation behind why it was even possible. “No, that’s what I thought too, but it still doesn’t make sense. Are we sure we’re not being pranked?”

Haechan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a prank. I saw that thing. It wasn’t human. It was like an animal.”

Silence draped over the gym like a gloomy, giant thundercloud. “I’m scared,” Xiu confessed after a beat.

Mark threw his arms over Xiu and held her tightly in his embrace. “We’ll be okay, Xiu. The others will get here soon and we’ll all make a plan to get the hell out of here.”

Right on time, Johnny came in with Victoria in tow. You hadn’t seen her until now and she looked absolutely horrified. Their hands were gripping onto each other so tightly you would think they had seen a ghost.

And even ghosts somehow seemed better than dead men walking.

The first thing Johnny did after sitting Victoria down was take a headcount, and he looked very displeased with the number he’d calculated. “Where’s Jaehyun and Taeyong?”

“We don’t know,” Mark replied, shuddering with cold dread. “We texted everyone, but I don’t think they’ve responded.”

You double, even triple-checked your phone, hoping to see some kind of confirmation that they were doing okay, but there was nothing new. “It’s radio silence. There’s no telling if they even know what’s going on.”

Johnny mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t hear with the sheer amount of distance between you, but you didn’t need to in order to tell that he was thinking precisely the same thing you were. There were what you could only think of as real life monsters surrounding the school, two of your friends were unaccounted for, and you had no feasible way out.

“Sitting here doesn’t feel right,” Mark said, brows stitched. He was obviously deep in thought. “I think we should go look for them.”

Johnny was quick to shoot him down. “No, it’s too dangerous. There’s no way of telling if we’ll make it back.”

“And what about them?” Mark asked, ever altruistic.

Johnny countered, “What good will it do if we all die trying to be heroes?”

That was a fair point and Mark knew it. You didn’t all have to potentially die. He was silent and sulky for a minute, tearing his eyes away. “I still don’t like it,” he grumbled.

Haechan spoke up. “Think about it, Mark. We don’t know where they are. We have no means of self-defense. What are you gonna do if something pops up behind you? Scream for dear life?”

“He’s right, Mark. We can’t go,” Xiu said, trying to persuade him from committing to something he would never be able to undo.

Mark tensed with frustration. “Then, what do you guys suggest? Staying here forever?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either,” Haechan replied, glancing at the two entrances. “If those things break in, they have two options to enter through and we’d be trapped.”

Johnny didn’t waver. “Well, we just won’t let them break in.”

Haechan scoffed. “With what tools?”

Mark stood up like lightning, as if to say that he rested his case. “Exactly. We’re gonna need to go back out one way or another.”

Exasperated with the back and forth, you chimed in, “Maybe that’s true, but we definitely are safest here. There’s room for all of us and a water fountain, plus this is the only spot with an easily accessible bathroom.”

Mark nodded along and added, “Yeah, and we obviously can’t stay here forever, but we’re gonna be here a while if we can’t get in contact with the cops. We gotta make this place extra secure so that it’ll hold us longer.”

No one could deny the truth of that either, because the reality of the situation was that no place was inherently safe. You had to condition it. Disgruntled, Johnny reluctantly agreed, “That’s true. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here, so we need supplies.”

You heard the doors being drawn open followed by rapid footsteps and the dialogue in the room came to a grinding halt as you each waited with bated breath to see who was coming from around the corner.

A collective breath of relief wafted through the gym when Taeyong and Jaehyun walked through the left entrance.

“Thank god,” Johnny said, immediately coming to a stand and draping his arms around his best friends.

When he was free again, Taeyong released a breath and looked amongst the gym much like Johnny had, content with the number of less than happy faces he saw. “We got your text, but it was a little too late when I saw it. We had to hide out for a bit in one of the classrooms but a lot of them are locked, so it was a mess.”

You frowned. So, the monsters had made their way inside. You were royally fucked.

“Hey, what matters is that you’re here,” Johnny replied, giving Taeyong a pat on the back. “We decided that we’re gonna go back out. The gym is good, but there’s room for improvement.”

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “We’re going somewhere else?”

Johnny explained that you guys had gone back and forth about the next best course of action, and ultimately came to the conclusion that you had to strengthen your hideout. “We’re gonna be here a while. We need to make this place a little more sustainable.”

You got to your feet, mentally preparing yourself to potentially encounter one of those nightmarish creatures. “Yes. We need food for when we get hungry, first aid for if we get injured, and some kind of weapon to defend ourselves for obvious reasons,” you told them reasonably.

Haechan was still sitting at the bleachers, deciding not to give chase, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear him. “I think we break into pairs,” he urged, seeming fully prepared to support his recommendation if necessary. “Safety in numbers.”

But no one argued. It was obviously smarter than traveling individually, and would allow you to hit more places quicker than if you moved as one whole group. “Jaehyun and I can go to the infirmary and see if there’s a first aid kid lying around,” Taeyong volunteered.

Jaehyun nodded in acceptance. “We can do that, but where would we get food?”

“There’s snacks in Dr. Nam’s classroom. It’s unlocked,” Taeyong replied. His knowledge was coming in handy. “It’s not much, but it’s better than a headache. I’m sure she��s got granola bars.”

“We can take care of that,” Mark replied, rubbing circles on Xiu’s back. “Sounds easy enough. I just don’t know what kind of weapons we can get our hands on. I mean, there’s hand sanitizer?”

You gaped, suddenly thinking of something. “Oh my god. Principal Myeong. Do you think his shotgun is still in his office?”

Johnny shrugged. “There’s no harm in finding out.”

“I’ll go with you,” Haechan said, finally rising from the bleachers.

You swallowed, but you didn’t turn him down. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Johnny or Victoria to come with you instead when they obviously wanted to be together. “Okay.”

Johnny stretched his arms over his head, and as if to confirm your suspicions, he said, “Then, I guess Vicky and I will stay and check if there’s any blind spots.”

You nodded. It was settled. You were going to be traveling with Haechan to hopefully locate a shotgun, and you prayed you didn’t make things awkward in the process. Entire lives were dependent upon this treasure hunt.

Haechan gingerly grabbed your arm and led you out of the gym with slow, cautious steps, neither of which you argued against. He was falling back into that familiar pattern of the way things used to be. “Let’s go before we meet any unwelcome visitors,” was all he said.

Maybe you were falling back too. It was easier now you were terrified half to death and in abundant need of emotional support, because it was perfectly reasonable that you were clinging onto his body for dear life. And if anybody asked, your excuse would be that you just needed a companion.

The front office was very far away, on the total opposite end of the school, which meant that there was ample time to hash out the obvious elephant in the room, the unspoken fracture in your relationship. Something you had no plans to do, but Haechan wasn’t on the same page. He had only let you go by force, not by will.

Haechan lasted a whole five minutes and half before he couldn’t help himself from saying, “I feel like we have something to talk about.”

You peered up at him, briefly giving the hallway a break from your scoping to meet his eyes which were already locked on you. Your heart flipped. “Something like the fact that we all might die?”

Haechan almost rolled his eyes. He could tell you were actually worried, but he could also tell that this monster outbreak was convenient for you. It lent you the perfect opportunity to deflect your feelings, which you had always been exceptional at doing. With everyone except him, of course. “Is that your final guess?”

You didn’t need to guess. You already knew, you just didn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t think right now is a good time.”

“Now or never, beautiful,” he flirted, persistent.

You would think he would behave as if he had more situational awareness, all things considered. But Haechan would always be unapologetically himself, even if the world was ending. That was what you had loved about him to a fault. “What is there to talk about? It’s been years.”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, like that was his very point. “I miss you.”

Your eyes widened a little more than they should have. Haechan had always been adamant and shameless. “I miss you too,” you confessed with some reluctance.

Haechan raised a brow, delighted. He hadn’t been expecting you to say that and it only encouraged him to see what else he could push you into admitting. And he was very much unafraid of riling you up solely to pull it off. “How can you miss me when you left me?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

Like he expected, you immediately bristled. You had spoken to him in depth about the rationale behind your departure, the damaged relationship with your parents and how you wanted to take control of your own life. He knew exactly why you’d skipped town. “Are you serious?”

Haechan kept going, “I loved you so much, and you just left me and everything we could have had together. Everything we should have had.”

You had never been one to raise your voice, so it was ironic that in the one situation where you suddenly became overwhelmed by the urge, it would have been the stupidest mistake you could’ve made at the moment. “You know why I left,” you replied, willing yourself to remain calm. “You told me you understood.”

Haechan shrugged. “I do understand. That doesn’t change how I feel.”

That only made you angrier and you asked, “What did you want me to do? Stay here for you at my own expense? Knowing I was miserable here?”

“We could have figured something out,” Haechan replied, although even he didn’t believe that. Not anymore, at least. When he was younger, he used to be bitter and think about ways to keep you together. Now it sounded like a fairytale.

You shook your head. “I never wanted to leave you, you know that. You were never the problem. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you and wonder how you’re doing. So don’t act like I ran away on our wedding day or something.”

Haechan softened, almost dropping the act. Hearing that made thunder shoot through his heart. You still thought about him and pictured his face, the same way he still pictured yours? “You still think about me?”

You wondered if you’d been too honest. Seeing the remorseful look in his eyes, you were starting to piece together that he was deliberately provoking you to get the reaction he was looking for, and you chastised yourself for falling into his trap. “You’re fucking with me.”

With nothing to say in his defense, Haechan merely grinned. “It took you this long to notice? I’m unimpressed. And severely disappointed.”

You suppressed a sound of annoyance, even though you were relieved. He was still making you think about things you’d rather not think about and feel things you’d rather not feel. Those old emotions were coming back up. Buried, but uncovered. They were never dead, they just didn’t have anything to trigger them until now.

The thing about your breakup with Haechan was that it was a completely mutual, amicable decision. There was never any animosity. Maybe it would be easier to let him go if you’d hated him, but Haechan had done nothing but be both an amazing boyfriend and your best friend. Things just didn’t work out.

At the end of the day, you chose to put yourself first. And it was the best thing you could have ever done for yourself and for your happiness, but you were never not thinking about who else it affected. “You could have just asked me how I feel,” you murmured.

“Would you have told me?” Haechan asked, a knowing look on his face.

You were silent for a long while, which made the answer a dead giveaway. “That’s not fair.”

“When have you ever known me to play fair? I gotta make sure I always win somehow,” Haechan said, deliberately bumping into you ever so gently to make you sway.

You stumbled a little, but Haechan was quick to help you steady yourself. He hadn’t forgotten about the monsters roaming the school, supposedly inside now even though you’d both yet to see or hear any. You sighed and said, “Yeah, nothing about you is fair.”

It wasn’t fair. That he was so goddamn handsome, even more than he had been a whole decade ago, with those same kissable lips that had gotten you in trouble more times than you could count. That every second you weren’t here was another second he probably had his tongue down another girl’s throat. And that life had forced you into a cold compromise.

Haechan didn’t know if you could tell whether he’d been serious or not, but for some reason, he felt the need to clarify. “Hey, for the record, I wasn’t lying when I said I miss you. I really do. You were my first love.” And my last too.

“And you were mine,” you replied, a vague but all too familiar feeling slowly festering in your stomach as you locked eyes with him. The dangerous recklessness you got whenever he was in arm’s reach.

What Haechan didn’t know was that he was the one who had given you the courage to leave. You had been the girl with a major stick up her ass before you met him. He was quick and witty and impulsive. He had shown you that you could be more than what your parents envisioned for you and you didn’t have to be afraid of breaking the mold.

Haechan was strategically stopping you both at every corner, making sure to check the next hall before you ventured that direction. He used this opportunity to pull you flush against him, his hand brushing against your forearm so faintly it almost tickled. “I do still think about what could have been,” he admitted quietly. “But I know that’s not what you needed.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow for the both of you, but there was no denying that it was true. You couldn’t go straight to getting married and having kids with him, even if you loved him. You would have been trapped in a marriage that defined you, with no way of knowing who you really were or what you were really capable of. “Johnny told me you’re single,” you told him, faint.

Haechan nodded, watching the way your hands clasped onto his leather. There was a whole whirlwind of memories blurring through his mind. “Yeah. I’m not built for a romantic life. I’m hard and fast.”

You could have laughed, but you were being mindful of your noise levels. Haechan reminded you of the metropolis - always on the grind, always in motion. He would have loved the city you’d moved to. “If I remember correctly, you’re bold, loyal and passionate. All good things. What’s stopping you from being like Johnny?”

“I never found another you,” Haechan whispered.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your breath was out the window entirely. So many years had gone by, but he was still irrevocably stuck on you. “You want another one of me?”

“Don’t be crazy,” Haechan said, shaking his hand. “I want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I decided a long time ago that if I can’t have you, then I’ll die by myself.”

He sounded so sure, so resolved. Like he had completely eliminated all other options. No matter how hard he tried, he would never find someone who measured up to the standard you had set for him. You swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching for his hand, and replied, “You’re not dying alone.”

Haechan lifted a brow. Your left hand was already intertwined with his right hand, so to be holding both of his hands might have seemed like overkill, but it made his heart race with a breed of thrill that he’d been convinced was long gone.

After passing by a few more hallways and miraculously staying clear of any zombies, you finally reached the front office. Haechan opened the double doors and held them for you while you walked inside.

The office was completely empty. No one was there, although that didn’t necessarily come as a shock. Your first thought was to try using the phone to get in contact with the outside world, but that didn’t work either. You exhaled deeply, frustrated.

Haechan put a comforting hand on your back and led you to the principal’s office. “Let’s see what he’s got in here.”

You glanced around. The two of you had been here, together, more than once. You were lovebirds and the teachers hated to see it. They also had hated to see you fucking in the locker room, which you had gotten mandatory lunch detention for a week because of. Then, it got extended to two weeks, because you wouldn’t stop passing notes behind the teacher’s back.

The memory made your breath hitch. It was all you could do not to sweat on the spot like a total idiot. You never knew who you were when you were with Haechan, but you liked her.

“You gotta be quiet, baby,” Haechan told you, whispering in your ear. His hands were secure on your waist, supporting you as you sat on his thighs.

The boys’ locker room was void of life, save for the two of you stacked on one of the brand new benches. With how hard you were riding him, Haechan felt like you were stealing his soul and giving him life all at the same time. You were his God and he had every intention of worshiping you like the beautiful deity you were.

You clammed your hands on his shoulders to anchor yourself, knowing you would sink into an endless reservoir of him otherwise. “I’m trying,” you whined.

“Try harder,” Haechan said, despite knowing damn well that you were doing your absolute best not to make any noise. It was hard; the way he filled you turned you into a lawless animal.

In retaliation, you yanked his hair, drawing a loud whine out of him. He hadn’t expected that, but he wasn’t complaining. He was your beautiful boy with a very advanced pain kink. You slowly rode to the tip of his dick, tugging his head back by his dark strands, and locked eyes with him for a long while.

Haechan breathlessly met your gaze. The eye contact was intense. It was like you were staring into each other’s souls, searching for fire and being burned by its passion. Then, you tightened your grip on his messy black hair and pulled him for an even messier kiss.

It was out of control. There was no rhythm, no rhyme. If anybody was watching, they would have assumed you were two hopeless virgins that didn’t know what to do with each other. Your lips met in a wild clash of teeth and tongues, drinking in one another like you were starving.

Haechan was a wreck. The things you did to him were unspeakable. Your body was his favorite addiction and fucking you in a locker room that neither of you had any business inside of (he never played sports) was arguably an incredible source of adrenaline. Kissing you always made his heart throb with a mind of its own.

As if the pleasure wasn’t already soaring high, you slammed back down on his cock in the middle of the kiss, and Haechan moaned into your mouth. He broke away, arms tightening around your waist. “Fuck.”

You giggled, having expected that reaction. You knew what he liked, and you knew what he loved. “What was that about being quiet?”

Haechan tipped his head back. You were making him insane with lust, with need. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I think I’m riding you crazy,” you purred, continuing to roll your hips. You wanted to see him unravel, to see him break, even if you already knew what that sight looked like. You were picturing it in your head. His flushed face, his parted lips, and his whiny moans.

“Fuck,” Haechan repeated, unable to conjure up any other words in his mind that would adequately convey the feelings you gave him.

You chuckled, because you knew exactly what he was going through and it made you very satisfied with yourself. You could feel it too. The ecstasy hammering through you in waves of warmth, submerging you beneath its surface. It was a potent drug of its own lethality, but that never stopped you from getting too close to the edge.

The point of no return. You had crossed it the second Haechan tempted you into becoming this wanton version of yourself. A girl who had tasted pleasure and was now on a perpetual journey to feel that good again. You never wanted to stop. You couldn’t stop.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, steadying yourself with his shoulders again. You knew you had been impatient, knew this could have waited until after school, but he made you crave him to an extent that you had never craved anything before.

Haechan swallowed, fighting for breath. The way your voice sounded when you were nearing the brink of climax would be the death of him. He moved his hand underneath your skirt, steering them to your ass where he knew you liked being touched. Your mouth opened, a few soft pants escaping.

You were nothing short of ravenous as you rode him with enough vigor to bend heaven and earth to your will. This was the taking, the conquering. Haechan belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him. The animal inside you was slowly but surely losing the battle against the woman.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m coming,” Haechan whispered, his face tensing as he wrestled with his impending orgasm. You could tell he was trying to fight it, not wanting to come just yet, but it was too late. His fate was sealed.

You didn’t slow down like some people would think to do. You went faster. Haechan cursed underneath his breath, mumbling something about how you must have been trying to kill him, and surrendered to your body. If this was how he died, with you on top of him making his dick feel things he never knew were possible, then so be it.

The entire locker room was filled with your shared sounds. His moans and yours and the wet squelch of your bodies meeting. It was almost suffocating. With how hot and stuffy the air seemed, you would have thought one of the showers were running.

Haechan couldn’t take it anymore and he shuddered with climax, overcome by how ruthlessly you were riding him. His nails dug into your hips with more force than he intended, but you didn’t mind the pain. If anything, the sting only encouraged you. You soaked in the way he cried out your name and felt your own body approaching the brink.

“Good boy,” you whispered in his ear, not stopping. You weren’t done with him yet.

Haechan felt his mouth run dry. You were completely in control right now, completely in charge of his body, mind and soul. You fucking owned him and he wasn’t ashamed to shout it from the rooftops. No one would ever come close to satisfying him the way you did.

Your hips moved faster as you endeavor to finish yourself, using his cock to get yourself off. Which, to Haechan, was the hottest thing ever. He didn’t mind being at your disposal one bit, especially if it meant he got to watch in awe as you drove yourself to the end.

And his cock could stay hard for almost just as long as you needed it to. There was something about you that he never got tired of. The body never lied, and his was obsessed with your entire existence.

You finally reached your climax, your mouth hanging wide open while you came with soft gasps. Your hands were tightly braced onto Haechan’s shoulders as the heat wrecked through you from head to toe. It was a powerful orgasm and you enjoyed every second of it. Haechan did too. You throbbed around his dick and made that pretty fucking face he couldn’t get enough of.

Haechan was still trying to collect his breath when you stilled against him. He laced his arms around your back, pulling you close. “My god. That was crazy.”

You nodded in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder in place of your hands and moving them to his chest. “And you said I couldn’t be a dom.”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, calling me ‘good boy’ doesn’t make you a dom, beautiful.”

“You seemed to really like it though,” you quipped, never skipping out on the opportunity to tease him.

“You could piss in my coffee and I would like it.”

You grimaced, climbing off of him. “Way to ruin the mood, babe.”

Haechan laughed. He grabbed you, pulling you flush against him, and smashed his lips against yours.

You smiled into the kiss.

That was one of many times you’d had sex together in that room, and fortunately the only one you’d gotten caught doing it. You remembered how heavenly it felt to be tangled in his arms, to be closer than close and as threaded together as you were physically allowed.

Haechan had meant everything to you. That man shook your world. He showed you how to reject expectations and to unabashedly live in your truth. He taught you how to be bold, how to be brave, and how to stand up for yourself. And he had loved you the way you deserved to be loved, without conditions. He loved you just because you were you.

It had got you thinking. If there was more to life than your grapple with control and festering resentment for your emotionally unavailable mother and emotionally unstable father, if someone could love you without you having to stretch yourself thin to meet some golden standard, then there had to be another route you could take other than the one you’d resigned yourself to so long ago.

So you made the decision to leave. And sometimes you looked back, but you never regretted it. You did what was in your best interest and you were a happier person now that you lived somewhere where your parents couldn’t steal your whole life away.

“Earth to my beautiful queen,” Haechan said, waving his hand in front of your face.

You blinked in surprise and stepped back. When the hell did he get in front of you? “Sorry. I spaced out.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Haechan replied, chuckling. “What were you thinking about?”

Your face burned. Like hell you were going to tell him that you had been reminiscing about the time you rode him halfway to hell in the fucking locker room. “Nothing. I just went somewhere else for a minute.”

Haechan smirked, but if he had any inkling about where your mind had wandered, he didn’t say a word about it. “Well, I need you here. I think Principal Myeong’s gun is in that safe, but it has a code.”

You glanced over to the safe he’d pointed to. It was definitely big enough to harbor a shotgun, which you doubted was even legal for him to have on campus, but you weren’t necessarily eager to get into that at the moment. “If I was Principal Myeong, what would be my safe code?”

Haechan shrugged, thinking about it. “His mom’s birthday?”

Your eyes narrowed. “How in the hell would we figure that out?”

Again, Haechan shrugged his shoulders. He was just spitting things out. “How the hell should I know? Look in his calendar.”

“He has to hate his mother if he doesn’t remember her birthday,” you grumbled, shaking your head. You were also convinced that with his age, she was probably dead. But to your surprise, his mother’s birthday was marked in his calendar.

When Haechan entered the number, however, the safe didn’t unlock.

He groaned. “Damn. Maybe he’s a Daddy’s boy.”

You snickered and stepped away from the calendar on the wall to join him beside the safe. “Come on. If you were Principal Myeong, what would your safe code be?”

Haechan tried to think. He was pondering hard, judging from the look on his face. “I have no idea. Probably the address of Mrs. Kim’s husband.”

You giggled. There had been rumors, back in the day, that your former biology teacher was sleeping with the principal. After that, there were even more rumors that she and her husband had separated. “Try her birthday. I remember it, because she wouldn’t shut up about a birthday trip to the Bahamas. November twelfth.”

Haechan didn’t look too convinced, but he entered the numbers anyway, looking bored as all hell.

The look on his face when it actually clicked open was priceless.

“Oh my god,” he gasped. “You’re a genius.”

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t been expecting it to actually work. “Um, I feel like I know too much information now.”

Haechan laughed and did the honor of retrieving the shotgun from the safe, which, for some reason, he knew how to check for ammunition. “She’s loaded,” he said casually.

You raised a brow. “Why do you know how to do that?”

“I saw someone do it on a show,” Haechan replied offhandedly. “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, brother,” you groaned. This weapon was not in good hands.

Haechan chuckled at your obvious doubt. “Don’t worry. No one will get hurt who doesn’t need to.”

You didn’t know if you should have believed him, but you hoped that you could. There was no way in hell you were going to take it off his hands. The idea of carrying any kind of weapon capable of discharging a lethal projectile was thoroughly unappealing to someone like you.

With few other options, you exhaled through your nose and replied, “Fine, but if someone does get hurt because of this, I reject all accountability.”

“Fine by me,” Haechan chirped, sounding so confident in himself. “Let’s go, beautiful. We had a smooth trip here, so I’m hoping for one back.”

Only five minutes later, you saw Jaehyun and Taeyong running down the hallway like they were being chased by a killer with a chainsaw.

“What the hell?” you whispered under your breath.

Taeyong saw you both first and he started gesturing down the hall with his free hand, the other clasping tightly onto a first aid kit. “Move. Move. Move!”

You didn’t remember zombies being particularly quick if the movies checked out, so for them to be in such a hurry, you had to assume there were many of them in close proximity. That was enough to make you snatch Haechan’s hand and start sprinting down the hallway like you had everything to lose.

“How many?” Haechan asked as the two of you started running more or less beside the others.

“Way too goddamn many to count,” Jaehyun said through labored pants. He looked damn near out of breath, but if needed, he would run until his legs gave out.

That was some of the worst news you could have received at the moment. The gym was on the totally opposite side of the school and running there from where you were would exhaust you thoroughly. To say nothing of the fact that there was no telling where else they were located on this floor. There could have been more ahead.

“Haechan,” you called out. “Can you shoot any of them?”

Haechan glanced back for a split second. He could see a crowd of zombies distantly making their way around the corner, but they were far enough that you could lose them if you kept moving. “I could, but I don’t think that’s necessary if we can make it back to the gym first. We don’t need to waste bullets.”

He made a decent point. With how many monsters were currently in the building right now and how many you didn’t even know were around in total, it would be in your best interest to keep yourselves safe and capable of fighting back. “That’s fair.”

You stayed close to Haechan as you ran. That belligerent hammering had returned to your chest, only this time you could hear it thumping against your ears too. It was like playing a scary game with a threatening, demonic soundtrack reverberating in the back, only this was real life.

When you least expected it, another pack of zombies emerged from the hallway on your left and you had to do an abrupt zigzag to stay out of arm’s reach. You managed to steer away at the last second, but Jaehyun wasn’t so fortunate. Three zombies got a hold of him and one bit him on his shoulder.

You gawked in unadulterated horror as Jaehyun let out a blood-curdling scream, sinking onto his knees. “Jae,” you cried, letting go of Haechan’s hand and rushing to pull him back.

Jaehyun grappled your leg and scraped his nails over your exposed calf, making you holler out in pain, and you jolted back as he bore his teeth like he was preparing to sink them into you.

Taeyong pulled you away while Haechan started opening fire on anyone that dared go near you, thankfully sparing Jaehyun. The wounded monsters slowed, but they didn’t stop chasing. It gave you just enough advantage to outrun them all. The second you were a safe distance apart, the boys started dragging you away.

It was even harder to run with the bloody scratch on your leg, but you gave it all you had to offer, mustering the strength to push forward. You could barely think. You just knew you had to keep going and you couldn’t stop until you were somewhere safe.

The closest possible place on the first floor was the library and the three of you barreled inside like you had a flight to catch that was about to leave with you, bursting through the doors without a second thought. You knelt on the floor and watched as the boys started to barricade the door off with anything they could find.

As soon as they were pleased with the numbers of book-heavy carts shoved in front of the door, Taeyong rushed to your side with the first aid kid, opening it immediately. “Are you okay? How bad does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, obviously still shaken up. Your mind was still struggling to process and accept what had happened. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“You could have gotten bit,” Haechan said, filling in the blanks. He sounded angry. “Why would you do that?”

Your eyes flickered in surprise. “Jaehyun’s our friend. I wanted to help him, just like you guys helped me. How was I supposed to know he was going to try and bite me?”

Haechan tempered, realizing he was being too harsh. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

You cursed as Taeyong started to clean the wound. It was shocking for a scratch caused by human nails, but nothing that you would have to worry about long term. None of which stopped it from stinging like a bitch.

Taeyong draped your leg over his knee so that he could access it better, all the while Haechan hovered over you both with a worried look. “Is it deep?” the latter asked.

“Like she said, it could have been a hell of a lot worse,” Taeyong replied, attentively tending to your injury. His face softened every time he heard you hiss. “She’ll be okay. It’s not that bad.”

Haechan sighed in relief. He hated the thought of anything going bad with you. One wrong move or late reaction and you would have been as good as dead.

After a few minutes, Taeyong put a bandaid on your scrape and said that you were as good as new, closing the kit back. You all waited a few minutes to gauge whether or not the coast was clear, quickly and meticulously making your way back to the gym before there could be any encores.

The three of you released a collective breath of relief when you stepped inside, immediately catching the attention of Johnny and Victoria.

Ever attentive, the former was quick to notice the bandaid on your leg, which most definitely hadn’t been there before, and asked, “Damn, already? What happened to her?”

You shook your head, not wanting to think about it. “I’m fine,” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say. All that you had left to recover from was the fresh wound of what you’d just lost.

Johnny was confused by your curt answer. He immediately sensed that something wasn’t right and glanced between the three of you. “What did you say it like that for? And where’s Jaehyun?”

No one said anything. You looked at the ground. Taeyong swallowed the lump in his throat. How did you tell someone that their best friend since childhood was bitten and taken by undead monsters?

The only one with enough courage to tell him the truth, Haechan spoke up, “He’s gone, Johnny.”

Johnny’s face went grim. His lips parted, but Victoria beat him to a word, exclaiming, “What do you mean he’s gone?”

Haechan ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a deep breath, and explained, “He got bit. They blindsided us. There was nothing we could do.”

“You left him?” Johnny asked incredulously.

“There was nothing we could do,” Haechan replied again, firmer.

Johnny tensed in a blend of anger and frustration and heartache. Victoria took him into her arms and that was the last thing you saw before you tore your eyes away and went to sit on the bleachers again. You couldn’t bear to watch him suffer through the same grief wrecking through your body like an infectious virus.

If not worse. You knew what Jaehyun meant to Johnny. You all did. They were brothers, blood be damned. You knew that if you lost your brother you would never be the same, and that thought had you actively fearing for Mark’s life. Every second he wasn’t here was another second he could be dead or infected.

It was all you could do not to pace around the gym like a mad woman with way too much caffeine in her system. You were worried sick, giving it your all not to assume the worst, but it was much easier said than done. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst had yet to come.

Haechan was standing in the corner with a blank look on his face, most likely trying to process the trauma of watching his friend get dragged away by monsters. You wondered if you should talk to him. It would be a good way to take both your minds off the dark side of today.

Who else would you talk to anyway? Johnny looked half a second away from falling apart. Victoria was selflessly trying to console him in the midst of her own despair. Taeyong looked like he was struggling with guilt and didn’t want to be bothered.

The only one you figured could alleviate the persistent thoughts racing through your head at a thousand miles per hour was Haechan. He had been good at it in the past, making everything seem okay in the face of adversity even though that with every second spent apart, you had thought your world was crumbling.

You had to stay on top of what you could control, because those were the only things you had right now. The tension was tight as hell and you were overwhelmingly aware of the odds here. You guys had phones, but no signal. No way to contact people and alert them that you were in danger. And attempting to evacuate the school would be too risky.

You had no idea what was out there waiting for you, nor did you have any desire to find out. The sneak peek in the hallway with Jaehyun was more than enough.

Finally, you mustered the courage to approach him, hoping you wouldn’t regret it immediately after, and announced, “I have a question.”

Haechan lifted a brow, expectant. “Hit me.”

“Do you still stay hard after you come?”

Haechan’s eyes went wide with shock at your question for all of two seconds before he burst into laughter. “Jesus, woman,” he replied, taken aback. “What kind of question is that?”

You shrugged. The sound of his laugh was still melodious, like a heaven choir. “I was just wondering.”

“I see,” Haechan said with amusement, bobbing his head. “And to answer your question, I only stayed hard for you because you really turned me on.”

You blinked. Well, that was certainly an answer. “Oh. Wow.”

Haechan didn’t seem to think it was all that surprising. “Yeah. Wow, right?”

You laughed, glancing away. It was ironic that you had been the one to ask him such a bold question and now you were getting shy.

Haechan observed your body language. He could see that you had gotten flustered, but that wasn’t what stood out to him. You looked startled, tense. And you had every right to be. “I’d ask you if you were okay, but I can tell that you’re not,” he said softly.

You smiled thinly. It was all you could muster at the moment, all things considered. “I used to think that running away from home and leaving behind everything I knew, everyone I loved, would be the scariest thing I ever did. But this? This is some spooky shit.”

“I thought losing you forever would be the scariest thing for me,” Haechan whispered. “And I still do.”

Everything about that confession broke your heart. You had never wanted to make him feel like that. Haechan could never lose you, not when it was the picture of his face and the memory of his love that used to get you through every day. You sighed. “Why did we stop being together?”

Haechan almost chuckled. He didn’t know if you were seriously asking, but he decided to humor you. “We wanted different things out of life. You wanted to go find yourself in the big city and I never got bored of home.”

You snorted. “How ironic.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. After all, this city wasn’t particularly small, but it wasn’t as big as your new one either. You just wanted a change of pace. And Haechan, for all his hatred of routine, had struggled to accept that. “I think I still love you. Because when I saw your face for the first time today, it gave me hope. And now that we’re standing here, not knowing what’s next, all I feel is dread.”

You could feel that dread too. It wrapped its calloused hand around your throat and asphyxiated you. “Do you remember the night before I left?”

Haechan nodded, face tensing with something wistful. “I don’t think I can ever forget it. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

You remembered it too. It was the last night you ever saw Haechan face to face. You were twenty years old, moving out of the house you had spent every single last one those years trapped inside of, and about to kiss goodbye the single best relationship you’d ever had. And the first one that had really meant something special.

Haechan’s room was dark, but you could see enough thanks to the moonlight penetrating through his window with the curtains drawn open. You had been staying in his house for the past week and making love every day while his parents weren’t home.

Even then, he was on top of you, rocking into you with languid thrusts. It wasn’t really his style, but it was also the nth round of many and you were both tired. Though he couldn’t get enough of your body and he didn’t want to be apart from you knowing that not a moment of your relationship wouldn’t matter the second you boarded your flight in the morning.

So this one had to count for something.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered. You thought you would be saying that a lot lately, but the reality was that you had held your tongue for the past week, desperate to ignore the finality in every action you took.

Haechan had been hoping you wouldn’t. It wasn’t that he wasn’t going to miss you - he was going to be sick to his stomach without you, but he didn’t need a reminder that you were leaving him, even if it stared him in the face every day. You may not have realized it, but every time you made eye contact, you looked at him like you were about to leave your heart in his lap.

“I’m gonna miss you more. You have no idea,” Haechan said, forgoing his grip on your hips to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand, closing your eyes and releasing a shaky breath. “You won’t hate me for this, will you?”

Haechan recoiled in surprise. “Why would I ever hate you?”

You shook your head. You knew it was irrational. That being said, that didn’t stop you from being afraid of what was to come in the very near future. “I just… I thought you would feel betrayed. We made a lot of promises together and now we’re breaking them because I can’t be here anymore.”

Haechan sucked in a breath. He figured it would be best to think over what he was going to say before he let it spill from his mouth. “I don’t hate you. I will never hate you. I understand why you’re leaving and I’m happy for you, because I know that you’ll be happier there.”

“What if I leave and it’s not what I’m hoping for it to be?” you asked.

Haechan countered promptly, “What if you leave and it’s everything you want it to be and more?”

“Everything I want and more would be for us to go to a whimsical place far away from here where we can be together until the day we die, but that’s not realistic.”

“Dreams are never realistic. That’s what makes them dreams. It’s up to you to make them real,” Haechan replied, meeting your eyes and never daring to look away no matter how much it pained him.

You sighed. He could be so wise when he wanted to be.

Haechan took a minute to collect himself and continued, “I want you to chase your dreams, baby. Even if it hurts me in the process. Because what would hurt me more is knowing that you’re unsatisfied and putting up with something just because you think it’s what I want.”

In that moment, you finally realized how lucky you had gotten with him. You always knew you were lucky, but right now you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. And at the same time, you felt like fate wasn’t on your side. “I’m so scared, Haechan.”

“I’m scared for you,” he admitted, poignant. “My mind keeps screaming with thoughts of things that could go wrong with you out there in some big city all by yourself.”

“But?”

Haechan gave you a look. “What do you mean? But nothing. I’m scared and I wish things were different so that you could stay here.”

That made you laugh for some reason. Maybe because you weren’t expecting it.

The sound of your laughter eased some of the tension in his heart. He asked, “You know what scares me more though?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and droned, “I know, I know. The thought of me not being happy and sacrificing my dreams just so that we can be together.”

Haechan shook his head. “No,” he blurted out. Then, he thought about it. “Well, yes, that too, but I was going to say the thought of you not being mine. I’m terrified of you moving on and forgetting about me.”

You frowned, bringing your hand to his cheek with the tenderness he’d always loved about you. “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me. You give me strength. I’m not gonna lie, if it weren’t for you, I probably would have slit my wrists a long time ago.”

Haechan winced. “Damn, baby.”

You smiled thinly, watching his eyes close and his face rub against your palm as you gently soothed him. He would forever be a slave to your touch. “I know. But you being there for me has changed my life for the better. And even if we never see each other again, I’ll still remember your face. Your voice. The way you laugh and the way you make me think. I’ll always carry a piece of you inside my heart.”

“And you’ll be walking with all of mine,” Haechan told you fondly, losing himself in you.

In more ways than one. You couldn’t remember how long you two had stayed there, pleasuring each other until you were too sore to take any more and too weak to keep your eyes from closing. You just knew that you had been cocooned in his embrace, arms and legs coiled snugly around him, wishing you didn’t have to let him go.

You still could see the heartbroken pain on his face he tried (and failed) to hide as he watched you leave that following morning.

“It was so hard to walk away after that,” you confessed, slumping against the wall. “I knew that if I looked back, I would run right back into your arms.”

Haechan dropped beside you and lowered his head onto your shoulder. “Then I’m glad you never looked back. There was always this sadness to you, even when you tried to hide it from us. I don’t feel that from you now.”

You were happier. You were in a place where you felt like you could be yourself, surrounded by friends you trusted and found reliable. No one passed any judgment. But none of that would matter if you didn’t make it back home. “I hope it’s not all for nothing.”

“It’s not all for nothing,” Haechan replied sternly. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, believing him. You would all be fine. Everything would be okay.

The lights flickered on in the hallway, drawing everyone’s attention to the door, and you could see through its window. They were motion activated, which meant someone was coming. You swallowed, wondering whether to expect Mark, some monsters, or a secret third option.

You thanked God himself when you saw Mark barge through the door with Xiu, holding a basket of snacks.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” you told Haechan, standing up on your legs. “You want anything?”

Haechan shook his head. “Nah, I’m not hungry.”

You were tempted to press, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you left it alone and walked away. He was hardly blinking but he didn’t seem tired like you were after so much sprinting. You knew he tended to get lost in his thoughts to the extent of neglecting himself and you were beginning to get a little worried.

Mark saw you approaching him and dropped everything (he literally dropped the snacks) to throw his arms around you securely. You squeaked in surprise but welcomed it nonetheless. “Oh my god. I can’t breathe. Mark, when did you get so strong?”

“I’m so sorry I dragged you here,” he apologized, penitent. “If I had known that this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have forced you to show up against your will.”

You didn’t spare a second in responding, “Mark, don’t you dare apologize. Absolutely none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Mark still felt guilty. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was to blame for some of this. “I know, but I’m the only reason you came. And if I didn’t make you come here, you would’ve been safe. You would’ve never gotten hurt.”

You sighed. “It’s just a scratch, Mark.”

“Right now it’s just a scratch. I hope to God that’s the most any of us get,” Mark huffed. He was annoyed, but not with you. With himself.

You hoped so too. No matter what amount of unfinished stood between anyone, no one deserved to die. You didn’t want a day intended for celebration and unity to end with mourning and grief. And even then, that ship had sailed.

Mark nudged your side with his elbow. “How’s Haechan doing? I see you guys haven’t left each other alone. And you were so scared of running into him.”

You mustered a smile. You had been so convinced that reuniting with your old lover would be the worst thing to happen today. “Yeah, it’s funny. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. He’s still the same boy I fell in love with, but eight years older and eight years wiser.”

“Is he holding up okay?”

“I think he’s holding up better than anyone in the room, to be honest,” you answered with a nod, glancing back at Haechan. He was still sitting by the wall, stoic as ever. “He’s really brave and super strong. Always has been.”

Mark followed your gaze. The tenacity was something he could appreciate and definitely something needed when half of you were on the verge of losing your shit. Even Johnny was grappling with defeat. “He’s the kind of person you need. The kind of person you deserve.”

There was a dull throbbing in your heart. It was an ache that you’d suppressed for many years and it’d finally had its fill of being locked away. It needed attention. “He said he still loves me, you know.”

“And what did you say?” Mark asked expectantly.

You shrugged. Obviously, you knew, but the whole thing still seemed surreal to you - not just the monsters. You had been half expecting hatred, resentment and dismissal. Not affection and compassion. “I didn’t say it back, if that’s what you’re asking. Not directly, at least. But I think he understood. He and I have always had a way of communicating.”

Mark bobbed his head in agreement and replied, “Yeah, that’s true. I still can’t see you with anybody else. You two belong together and I hope that when we make it out of here, you guys can work things out.”

You grinned softly. No matter what, you and Haechan had always been the couple that everybody wanted together. It made you happy to know people still felt that way, because you did too. But you chose to deflect, asking, “What about you and Xiu?”

“I wanna make things work with her too. I’ve had a crush on her for the longest,” Mark confessed, turning his head to look at her. She was a few feet behind him consoling Johnny and Victoria.

You nodded, pleased that Mark had found his match. He had been as unhappy in love as you were. It was in the genes, even if he wasn’t your blood brother. “Oh, I know. I think everybody knows. You were never exactly subtle. But I have to give credit where credit is due, and it’s crazy that she’s all over you now. What did you do?”

To your surprise, Mark started giggling mischievously.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant. “Nevermind. Spare me the details.”

Mark threw his hands up. “Hey, that’s just life, you know? Things work out when they’re supposed to.”

You had been about to reflect on the remarkably wise words spoken to you, but everyone quickly noticed the faint thump resounding in the hallway as the lights flickered on, indicating that someone was approaching. The dialogue faded. It was so quiet that all you could hear was your quickening pulse.

All of the boys were on high alert. Taeyong, who was already on edge, rooted in place like a rock. Johnny glanced up from where he’d been sitting with his face in his hands, tapping his foot. Haechan made his way over to investigate. And Mark stood in front of you protectively.

It was like a dam breaking. There was a split second of peace before a pack of zombies barged in through both entrances, and your whole body went into panic mode. You couldn’t breathe and your immediate instinct was to take flight, but there was nowhere else to go. You were trapped.

Startled beyond belief and terrified for her life, Xiu ran over to where you and Mark were standing in shock as everything rapidly unfolded, grasping his arms and joining you behind him. At the moment, it felt like the safest place to be.

Haechan was quick to draw his weapon and start opening fire on the gory monsters in front of you, but there was no way he could defeat them all. There were too many. The sound of gunshots made you recoil harder and you shrunk in on yourself, willing yourself not to sob.

In the blink of an eye, they were cornering Victoria like a knot of hungry sharks. Johnny cried out her name and didn’t think twice about advancing on the hungry creatures, knocking two of them dead onto the ground with his fist.

When Johnny spun around to grab her and lead her away from the others, Victoria bit into his face.

You closed your eyes when you heard his screams, knowing that there was nothing you could do for either of them now. The infection spread within them too quickly. It had been like that with Jaehyun too; one second he was the sweet boy you’d always known, and the very next, he was trying to drag you into the void with him.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Taeyong getting drowned into a sea of monsters. He resisted, thrashing against them and kicking his legs, but to no avail. You lost sight of his face as he was swallowed beneath them to be feasted on like a rotting dead animal.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. What you were hearing. The wound of grief from earlier was still too fresh and you weren’t afforded the opportunity to process the second and third losses before Taeyong was stolen from you too. He shouted out in pain, but the sound was muffled as he was overpowered. You would never forget those agonized cries for as long as you lived.

Haechan accidentally shot one of them in the head and it dropped to the ground, its body twitching for a few seconds before it stilled completely. You gawked, eyes widening. That was how you killed the dead.

He seemed equally stunned, but there was no time to waste in lying around waiting to die. “We need to go,” he said in a tone that would brook no argument.

As sick as it sounded, you knew he was right. You needed to leave while it was still an option. You were outnumbered. The monsters were still focused on Taeyong and they wouldn’t be distracted by him for much longer. It was now or never.

“There’s an emergency exit door in the storage room,” said Mark, gesturing for you all to follow him with a rapid blur of his hands.

The remaining three of you paced behind him as quickly as you could without drawing attention to yourselves. As much as you hated having to leave them there for dead, you had to prioritize survival. You tried to tell yourself that they would have wanted you to leave. Whatever you needed to do to convince yourself that you were making the right choice.

Fortunately, the storage room was unlocked, and all four of you charged inside, maneuvering between several racks of spare basketballs and sports equipment and sundries. You had no idea where the exit door led to specifically, but you had no other option than to fuck around and find out.

You ended up halfway out of the school. There was a fence within a fence, bringing you outside, but still within the outermost perimeter. It was a dangerous place to be, considering most of the monsters were roaming outdoors and you had no way of escaping the relatively tall gates of your school.

The innermost fence, on the other hand, while definitely all, was still climbable. Your school was a prison no one had been talented enough to sneak out of, but that didn’t mean no one had ever tried. And you and Haechan had gotten pretty good at hopping over the inner fence to take a detour to the garden shack for some alone time.

Mark looked at the fence in disapproval. There was a gate, but it was obviously locked. No one other than the coaches and custodians likely knew the code. “What fucking security freaks, dude.”

Haechan looked toward you. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

You nodded reluctantly. It had been a minute since you’d needed to hop a fence, but you couldn’t stay here. You had to go back inside the school.

Xiu caught on and she didn’t like it one bit. “No way you guys are seriously thinking about climbing the fence.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Haechan asked impatiently.

Mark narrowed his eyes at Haechan. “Don’t talk to her like that. She’s scared of heights.”

“And I’m scared of getting my brains chewed out by zombies and turning into one like the rest of our friends. You two can stay here, but I’m hopping the fence.”

“Hey, chill out,” you said, putting your hands up and glancing between the both of them before things got ugly. “There’s no point in any of this if you’re both just gonna kill each other. We need to hop the fence. Now.”

Mark sighed, turning towards Xiu. “I can carry you over, if you want.”

Xiu shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I can do it.”

Haechan was satisfied. “Good.” He pivoted so that he was facing you, handing you the shotgun. “Hold this for me.”

You grabbed the gun cautiously. You were every bit afraid of accidentally setting it off and wounding yourself or someone else in the process.

Haechan stepped back, taking a deep breath, and ran up and hauled himself over the fence like it was nothing. You acted quickly, but carefully, handing him the gun over the slightly shorter gate.

Then, it was your turn. Your heart was pumping. Your whole body was on edge. You walked backwards, putting some distance between you and the fence, and sprinted over without a second thought. You grasped the top for leverage and pulled yourself over, landing on your feet.

And then there were two.

Mark exhaled a shaky breath and glanced at Xiu again, holding her hands. “You can go now.”

She shook her head. “No, you go.”

Mark looked like he was about to ask if she was sure, but Haechan beat him to a word. “Fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for this. There’s zombies coming. Look behind you.”

There were a handful of zombies slowly but surely making their way over and there was only so much time before they caught up to you. Frantically, Xiu began to fret, eyes widening as she clasped Mark’s forearms. “Go. I don’t wanna slow you guys down.”

Mark glanced between her and the fence, stuck at a crossroads. Ultimately, he grabbed Xiu’s face and kissed her breathless like it was his last chance to let her know how he really felt, and threw himself over the fence.

“Okay, baby. It’s your turn,” Mark said, gesturing for her to come over.

Xiu hesitated, eyes wide with fear. It was a six foot tall jump that required every bit of vigor to haul yourself over. You watched with dread, an invisible clock ticking above your head as your body shuddered with alarm. You couldn’t stand still.

Especially not when the zombies were getting closer and closer with every second gone to waste. In a life or death situation, every single breath counted. She was running out of time and you desperately didn’t want to lose another valuable friend that had made an impact on your life for the better. You just couldn’t. You refused.

“Babe,” Mark called again, on the verge of panic. “Please. You have to jump right now. Just come to me.”

You and Haechan urgently waved her over. You exclaimed, “Xiu, just do it! Don’t think about it. It’s only gonna take a few seconds and then it’ll be over.”

Xiu stepped back, preparing herself for the leap. She took a few restrained steps forward, testing the waters, and backed away again. “Mark, I can’t do it. I’m scared,” she whimpered.

“Yes, you can,” Mark reassured her gingerly. “You can do it, Xiu. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Xiu begrudgingly nodded, wanting to trust him more than anything. She exhaled a shaky breath and walked back, glancing over her shoulder to gauge how much distance remained between her and the monsters, and resigned herself to the fact that there was no other way out. Finally, she closed her eyes and sprung forward, getting caught at the top and bracing herself on the fence.

When she glanced back, she lost her grip and fell for all of a couple seconds, cracking her skull on a rock.

The sound was the most devastating thing you’d ever heard.

“Xiu!” Mark cried out in anguish, rushing towards the fence without a second thought.

Haechan had to get a hold of him before he leaped back over, barely able to restrain Mark with how wildly he fought it. Haechan briefly forwent the gun and grappled Mark, spinning him around so that they were face to face. “Hey, man. Look. Look at me,” he said, bracing his shoulders. “She’s gone.”

“No,” Mark shouted in denial, attempting to wrestle free of Haechan’s iron grip.

You helped Haechan hold Mark in place, knowing it would be both foolish and risky for him to go back over when there were monsters nearly clawing at the gate. You could see the agony on your brother’s face and it broke you in half. “Mark, I’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Mark echoed, but this time it was a hollow whisper. He slackened and the second you and Haechan released him, he dropped to the ground. There was no faking the heartbreak in his eyes. In his voice.

Haechan exhaled deeply, cradling his face in his hands. “Fuck, man.”

Even though you were dealing with your own overwhelming whirlwind of emotions - anger, grief, and fear - you knew someone needed to be the voice of reason between the three of you so that you could survive. “Mark, it’s time to go,” you told him gently.

Mark looked up at you, empty. Like he didn’t care whether he lived or died. His voice was quiet. “I promised. I promised her she was gonna be okay.”

You shook your head, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of consolation. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

Mark was in too deep. He couldn’t see it any other way. To him, this was preventable and the outcome had largely depended on him. He lowered his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have let her go last. I could’ve helped her. I knew she was scared.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this, Mark. It’s no one’s fault,” you replied gently, wishing there was something you could say to convince him. But you didn’t have time for that right now. “But we really need to get going so that no one else gets hurt.”

Mark nodded, begrudgingly coming to a stand. He was only partly in the journey now; halfway to surrender. “The gym’s blown. What’s the next best place?”

You thought about it. “The auditorium?”

“There’s too many doors,” Haechan chimed, having learned his lesson from the gym fiasco.

You shrugged. “Yeah, but we can hide behind the stage if we need to.”

Haechan sighed. “I guess.”

You frowned. There was a stormy, dark cloud of defeat hanging over the group now and it disappointed you, even if it was justified. You said nothing, dragging your feet with them as you tried to neglect the agony tearing you apart. Brutal was an understatement.

The hallways were damn near packed with monsters, as if they were making sure there was no stone left unturned. No place they hadn’t searched. That thought alone was scary as all hell. With every new corner, the three of you were forced to check each angle before you proceeded down the hall.

It was hard to keep your head in the game when you couldn’t help but vividly remember the lives that had been stolen plain in your face without consequence. One after another, back to back. You were channeling the despair into strength and spunk, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

Hopelessness was nothing new to someone like you, but this was a different breed of misery; you could feel the ache in every breath you took and all the while, you had to ignore how limited they felt, because you didn’t want to lose faith altogether. You had to keep telling yourself that this wasn’t the end even if you could hardly believe it.

You felt sick as you thought of Johnny and Victoria. They should have been happy together, and now you had to pray that their souls were united and at peace. You thought of Taeyong, who had been nothing but nurturing and tender to everyone who loved, but you couldn’t do anything to save him. Xiu who was sweet and deserved a chance with Mark as much as he deserved one with her.

And Jaehyun whose smile you were picturing in your mind and shattering apart at the thought of never seeing again. You wished you could have done more for them. You could still hear their screams and the agonized sound was something you would always remember.

Mark put his hand up, making you and Haechan halt in your tracks behind him in the middle of a broad wall. You figured he’d heard something. He crept closer to investigate, slowly peeking his head around the corner to get an idea what was going on.

In the next second, Mark was blindsided and yanked the other way. He cried out as he disappeared behind the corner.

“Mark,” you called out, eyes widening. You managed to grapple him in the nick of time and forcibly pull him back into you, sighing in relief when you realized he was unharmed. You had been one second away from losing him indefinitely.

Haechan turned the corner with his gun and began shooting anything that moved without mercy. You hated the sound of gunshots and every single one startled you more than the last, but you understood that they were a necessary evil which were aiding in your survival.

The monsters started dropping like flies and you stilled like you’d been struck by lightning when you recognized the one that had grabbed Mark. It was Jaehyun. A little more bloody, a little more pale, but you knew Jaehyun when you saw him. He hardly looked the same without life.

You saw the bullet piercing his forehead and knew that this was the last you’d ever seen of him unless it was in your dreams.

Mark went slack beside you. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he was thinking the exact same thing you were.

Haechan, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed. He was too busy firing away at the flock of monsters in front of you. With how shocked you were, you failed to realize there was another one stealthily creeping behind you until Mark jolted, hollering out in pain.

Your protective instincts kicked in. You weren’t thinking about your own health or safety. You just knew you wanted to protect your little brother with your life and you fought and struggled with the monster, prying him away.

But it was too late. Mark had been bitten. The infection was stronger than your desire to save him, no matter how badly you wanted it. You barely dodged Mark when he lunged at you and tried to get a hold of your arm, your eyes widening in horror at your worst fear coming to life.

“No. God, please,” you whimpered, the defeat finally starting to catch up to you. You couldn’t win this battle. Not when your undoing had been guaranteed from the start.

Haechan gaped, but he didn’t let you falter. You had to stay in motion. Which meant being confined to an eternity of running, and you were beginning to realize it would just be easier to give up. Wordlessly, he handed you the gun, the message obvious. You know what you have to do.

You shook your head. The gun burned your hands. Though you knew that head shots were the only sure-fire way of neutralizing anyone who had been infected, you also figured it would kill them permanently. And you couldn’t do that.

“I’m not killing him,” you told Haechan, backing away. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

Haechan exhaled through his nose. “We have to do something quickly or we’ll be cornered.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. It felt like the world was spinning. You were nauseous and sick to your stomach, the most cruel shudder wrecking through your body as you fought the urge to sob.

Finally, knowing you had no other option, you aimed the gun. Mark slumped to the ground, clutching the wound in his leg. Like hell you were going to kill him. “I hope we can fix you,” you whispered poignantly, handing Haechan back the weapon and facing the other way.

You refused to look at Mark anymore. You had failed to protect your own brother. He was your responsibility, your family. The person you were supposed to be there for through thick and thin. And you let him down in the worst way possible.

Haechan gave chase, calling out your name. “Wait!”

Not turning around, you kept walking. You were at your breaking point. “How could you ask me to do that?”

Haechan replied, “He’s dead! There’s nothing we can do for him now whether you shoot him in the head or not. He would have wanted you to protect yourself.”

You whipped around and exclaimed, “You don’t know that! There has to be something we can do.”

Haechan was quick to ask, “Like what, baby? You really think they’ve got some anti-zombie virus remedy cooked up and ready to hand out? That’s just not realistic.”

“What if it was me?”

Haechan rooted in place, his feet fixed to the ground as his eyes flickered with surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you snapped. “What if I had gotten bitten? Would you have shot me?”

Haechan swallowed. “You can’t ask me something like that.”

That only served to make you angrier. It was the same damn situation, as far as you were concerned. Losing someone you cared deeply about and being forced into making a tough choice. “Why not?”

“Because it’s different,” Haechan huffed.

“How?”

Raising his voice ever so slightly, Haechan replied, “I don’t know. It just is!”

You didn’t realize that your volume had attracted more attention until it was too late. You could feel the dread flooded into your bloodstream before you even knew why. When you glanced up, you saw monsters approaching you both at every turn, at every angle.

At that moment, you accepted defeat. You knew you had no chance at victory. Even if you fought until the very end, rebelled against everything inside you that wanted to surrender in hope of survival, you knew it would be pointless. You would run out of bullets at some point exactly like how you’d run out of will. And you were already running on empty.

If you somehow survived this, you would wish that you hadn’t. How could you live after seeing what you had seen, constantly reminded of what you’d lost?

Haechan was on the same page. You couldn’t escape this, no matter how hard you tried. He laced his fingers through yours and confessed again, “I love you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears were dripping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. “I love you too,” you whispered.

Haechan nodded, releasing your hand to throw his arms around your waist from behind.

His teeth sank into your neck.

#lee haechan smut #haechan smut #nct #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut

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