#but when he hears the crunch of leaves he realizes why the scents are so strong. they’re still here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nariism · 8 months

Text

i loved you on a moonlit summer night

pair. diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader

content: tooth-rotting fluff, love at first sight, allusions to reincarnation but no actual instances of reincarnation

synopsis. diluc knows that he doesn't belong in mondstadt anymore. he doesn't belong anywhere— no place to truly call home and nothing in this world but vengeance in his heart. but on a wintery day on dragonspine, he finds his salvation: a box of cecelias, a fire seelie, and the owner of the best flower shop in the city.

wc. 8.4k

a/n: thank you to my beautiful @hyomagiri for beta reading, helping edit and hyping this fic up to the max. i ended up feeling confident enough to post this because of her, three cheers for ellie i love you to the moon and back <3

WINTER

It wasn’t his fault. How was he supposed to know that buried beneath blankets of snow and sheets of ice, there would be Cecelias?

Fire seelies are usually reliable with a bounty of treasure waiting at the end of their path. He isn't sure why it led him here, to some inconspicuous pile of snow which he hastily melted without realizing there was something precious hidden within.

The mistake doesn’t register with Diluc until the sweet scent of flowers and ash and burning wood wafts under his nose. He blinks in confusion at the pile, perfectly burnt to a crisp and resting at the tip of his boots.

Boxed up flowers? What are they doing out in the middle of the mountain?

He remembers then, a story someone once told him— he can't put a name to the voice but it echoes in the hollow chambers of his heart:

"Did you know that you can preserve the freshness of flowers? All you have to do is box them up nice and tight and store them in the snow."

It's an interesting tidbit of information. He can't for the life of him remember where he heard it from, though.

Wind howls in his ears, powdery snow from over the horizon plowing down the mountainside and into his face. It doesn't deter him from examining the scene. The fire seelie floats just above his shoulder, quiet now as it looks at the pile.

He’s entirely distracted by the sight, unsure of what to make of the strange discovery, until he hears the crunch of snow behind him. With the Fatui lingering around the foot of the mountain, he expects to whip around and face an enemy. He even braces himself to be knocked off his feet by a wild boar.

Instead, his sudden movement frightens you and makes you stumble back until you fall flat onto the ground.

There’s a long pause of silence that stuffs the air, neither you nor him tearing your eyes away from each other. You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, so still that it looks like you've succumbed to the frozen climate of the mountain. He breathes a slow sigh of relief when a wavering exhale leaves your lips in the form of a puff of cloudy air.

The heart resting in his chest stirs. An ancient dull ache, thrumming in the depths of his body as he looks at you in surprise.

Again, there's a voice in his ear. This time, he recognizes it as his father:

"Your mother? I fell in love at first sight."

Growing up, he never quite understood that string of words. First sight? How could someone fall in love at first sight?

Diluc Ragnvindr is a million things, but romantic is not one of them. Love at first sight is a silly fairytale that parents tell their children to tuck them into bed. It's something that could never exist in such a cruel world, plagued by monsters and evil.

It's easy for him to close his heart off to the idea of something as ridiculous as love at first sight, despite the way his eyes haven't left yours. And he's painfully aware of the way you're looking at him too, but he does his best to ignore your gawking.

Maybe he's catching a cold. He doesn't feel well all of the sudden.

Your gaze drifts to the pile of ash just behind him and you sigh, putting your head into your hands wet from snow.

"You found my seelie," you murmur, sounding very unimpressed. He blinks at you until you continue, "Those were important, you know. They were for a very special occasion."

Diluc takes in your form, clothes thin and unfit for the snowy conditions of Dragonspine. Even without the chilly altitude of the mountain, this winter in general was particularly bitter. He almost wants to scold you for dressing so thoughtlessly, even though he doesn't know your name.

"My apologies. I will reimburse you whatever the cost, and more."

"It's... not about that," you tell him from your place on the ground, still not looking at him. You seem stressed. His heart squeezes terribly.

"Not about what?"

"Mora."

He falls silent, so quiet that you finally peer up at him wondering whether or not he's even still standing there. And he is, regarding you with a thoughtful expression. His presence is so unnoticeable despite being right in front of you that it makes your skin crawl.

"How can I make it up to you?" He asks, extending his hand for you to take. Your clothes are soaked through already, cold and frozen from the subzero temperature. It doesn't help soothe his worries that he can feel a storm coming. He should get you out of here as soon as possible.

You huff, allowing him to drag you to your feet. It's then that you realize how warm he is, almost hot to the touch. The faint glimmer of a Vision dangles on his hip. Your eyes flicker back to his and he nearly jolts out of his skin.

"Don't worry about it. It's alright," you tell him though you sound disingenuous about it. You're obviously distracted, probably wondering how to explain to your client that their expensive flowers ended up as a pile of ash.

"It was my mistake. Please, let me know if there's anything at all I can do," he replies earnestly.

"Really, it's fine," you sound slightly exasperated by his stubbornness. If it were anyone ordinary, they would have taken your mercy and left you to freeze on the mountain without a second thought.

Diluc Ragnvindr is no ordinary man.

It takes him a moment to realize his hand is still gripping yours rather tightly. He recoils with an awkward cough.

“What are you doing out here in the mountains?” He asks. It dawns on him then what a stupid question it is, since you’ve obviously come to collect your frozen flowers. You tell him anyways:

"I buried some flowers further up the mountain a few days ago," you sigh, "not sure if I can find them anymore, though. That's why I've been following this little one around."

You scratch under the seelie's chin. Well, where you would imagine its chin to be, at least. It seems thrilled by the affection.

"It's going to storm soon. You should head back down the mountain and try again later."

"It's urgent," you insist, ready to brush past him and continue the trek up.

He stops you with your wrist in his hand. "Then please, let me accompany you to the top of the mountain. It isn't safe with the Fatui lingering around. It's the least I could do."

You eye him hesitantly, but then your shoulders relax and you sigh again. "Okay, okay. We should hurry and get out of here, then."

He wordlessly follows you up the trail, watching your movements carefully. While you don't seem suspicious, he can never be too sure when it comes to the Fatui. Save for the rustling of pine trees and the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots, empty silence fills the air.

It drives him crazy. So crazy that he decides to speak.

"What's your name?"

The name that leaves your lips makes him smile. He can only think that it really does suit you.

"My name is–"

"Diluc. Diluc Ragnvindr, right?"

Heat creeps up to his cheeks. Of course you know who he is. He's the most famous person in all of Mondstadt, for Archon's sake.

"I've seen you around the city," you quickly explain, awkwardly fumbling over your words. "And at festivals and such."

Before he can dwell too much on it, your seelie chirps— once, twice, three times as it dives into the snow and slowly melts it away. You suddenly halt in your steps, crouching down to sift through the remainder. An exhale of relief leaves you when you dig out a box, intact and frozen to the touch.

He looks on in curiosity. Your hand brushes the snow off the top of the box and you open it, revealing another couple dozen Cecelias.

"Thank goodness..." and your seelie seems to agree, because it dances around your head with a pleased noise.

You're too busy admiring the flowers to realize the snow has kicked up. He's too busy admiring you to notice, either. It isn't until the seelie dips in front of your face with a panicked garble that you finally tear your eyes away from your box of flowers.

"It started to snow..."

Diluc's gaze drifts from you to the darkening sky. It's much too late to make your way down the mountain. In his time in Snezhnaya he learned one very important rule of surviving the cold: you can't outrun snow.

Your seelie leads you to a small cave in a section of rock, covered in starsilver and crystalflies. There isn't any kindling to make a fire, and he isn't willing to brave this type of storm just for some wood.

Diluc shrugs his coat off his shoulders and wraps it around your shoulders in a single motion. Heat envelops you, warmer than the fire seelie that guided you through the mountains. It’s a warmth that fills you from the pit of your stomach all the way to the tips of your fingers.

The seelie floats between you, trying to do its best to keep the both of you in its light.

It's comfortable and quiet for a while— not a peep from either of you as you listen to the howling of wind and snow outside.

How did Diluc ever end up here?

Bad luck, karma, anything that would explain why he ended up snowed in atop Dragonspine with you— anything at all other than it was in the stars' design that he be with you right here and now. Fate mocks him.

Even worse, there's a voice in his head telling him that this is exactly where he needs to be right now. He's getting a migraine.

Diluc watches you sift through the remaining ashes of the burnt box, trying to see if there's anything you can salvage. Unfortunately, Diluc's Pyro vision was only good for combat and keeping you warm at this moment.

"I'm... really sorry," he says again, looking away sheepishly. He can't bear to look at the disappointment furrowing in your brows.

The sound of a sigh echoes in the cave, and he finally manages to look at you. To his surprise, you're only staring back at him with soft eyes: no contempt, no anger, no disappointment. It makes his heart sink, not only with guilt, but also because there's just something so sweet about you that it makes him want to hold you closer.

"It's okay. At least a majority of them survived. It'll be plenty."

"If you don't mind me asking, what were they for?"

"A bouquet for a wedding. The bride specifically asked for Cecelias, since it was the first bouquet he ever gifted her," there's a fondness on your face that makes him snort. You look at him funny. "What? It's romantic."

"They're just flowers. What's so sentimental about that?"

"They're not just flowers," you frown, scooting a little closer into his side to soak up more of his heat. The fire seelie's light flickers against your face. "Cecelias only grow in extremely windy places. They're illustrious and elegant, even after growing in such harsh conditions. Isn't that just..." you smile at him, slow and warm. "It's beautiful."

Diluc considers your explanation for a moment, tugging his coat around your shoulders tighter. "I suppose so."

"You suppose?" You laugh. "My my, I didn't know Diluc Ragnvindr was so down-to-earth when it comes to romance."

Your laugh is doing terrible things to him. There's something about it that reminds him of the days he spent wandering the Winery as a boy with Kaeya in tow. The nights he would spend catching crystalflies. Times long since passed. He suddenly aches to be back among the grapevines.

"I don't indulge in that sort of thing."

He never could, so long as there was something ugly and bitter and tainted in his heart.

"You've never fallen in love?"

"Not once."

Love like that doesn't exist. Not in a world like this.

He repeats what he believed was true, chants the mantra in his head until he's dizzy as if trying to convince himself that he isn't already lost in you. The warm orange glow of the seelie dances in your eyes, lights up your smile in a way that makes his stomach turn.

I fell in love at first sight. They were words that he couldn't understand until today.

"Is that so?" You muse, slotting your head in the space between his jaw and shoulder. He doesn’t move away. "You're an unusual man, Diluc."

"Maybe I am."

But he knows that the moment he met you, everything was about to change. You don't even dignify him with a glance as you say it:

"Let's fall in love, then."

The demand is simple and he's absolutely positive you're joking. Something in his soul tugs anyway. He swears one thing at that moment: someway, somehow, he'll make it all up to you.

You are, after all, the first person to remind him of home in a long time. Every aspect of you is so comforting and familiar, even if he can't quite place his finger on it yet.

You reach out to pet your seelie, even though you know your hand will phase through it. "You sure did lead me to some strange treasure, hm?"

It trills happily with a little twirl.

Diluc meets you in winter, in the valley between the peaks of Dragonspine. He meets you, and it smells of burnt wood and ash and Cecelias. It's so cold that you can't feel your fingers but you're smiling in the afterglow of a seelie nonetheless, and so is he.

SPRING

He learns that you own the little flower shop at the edge of Mondstadt, just within the front gates of the city.

You're teaching a young girl, Flora, how to nurture them. And he finds it a little endearing, the way you're so gentle not only with Flora but with the flowers you're showing her: daisies and tulips and Windwheel Asters, all of which are in season right now.

Diluc recognizes you when you open back up for spring, surrounded by boxes stuffed with fresh bouquets. You seem to be in a rush getting organized, holding a stack of boxes instead of taking them one by one and clumsily scattering them around so you can go through them.

He stops you by stepping in front of you, two hands on either side of the stack to steady them as you stumble to a halt.

"Diluc?" You peer from around the boxes. He can only see your curious eyes from this angle. He laughs.

"Sorry to interrupt you when you're so busy. Do you need help?"

"Well–" you do a little hop to straighten up the boxes in your arms, "–it would be nice to have an extra set of hands getting everything ready for the Windblume Festival." You contemplate his offer for a brief moment, then ultimately decide against it. "But I would hate to steal you away from your other responsibilities. You're helping with the festival too, right?"

"I owe you one. Think of this as a favour from a friend," he refutes stubbornly.

"I'm sure many would be missing the help of Diluc Ragnvindr," you tease, shifting around so that your body tilts toward him.

It's then that he can finally look at you fully, with a soft orange apron tied around your waist and Windwheel Asters in your hair to match.

One day, you would go on and explain to him that it was sort of like advertising, and that showing off how nice the blooms look as an accessory brought in a lot of business. Right now all it does is render him breathless.

"They can afford to miss me.” He can't help the smile that creeps its way onto his face at the sight of you— he feels silly about it too, like some lovesick little boy.

You hand off the boxes into Diluc's arms. "Can they? I heard you were supplying all of the wine for the festival. That's a tall order," you giggle, bending down to grab another two boxes of flowers.

"It's... manageable," he answers, making a mental note to himself to buy Adelinde dinner some time as a thank you. "What about you? What are all these boxes for?"

"We're holding a flower gifting service in the plaza, on the night of the big party." He looks at you curiously as you continue, "You can send someone you care for a flower or two, or you can send them anonymously if you just wanted to make someone's day!"

"Sounds..."

You smile knowingly. "Romantic?"

Diluc places the boxes down on the ground and pries the lids off, revealing more and more ready-to-bloom flowers. "Yeah. Romantic," he sighs.

"These will all be in full bloom in time for the festival.” You lean down behind him where he's crouched down, until your chin is nearly resting on his shoulder. He's sure his breath hitches so loud that you can hear it.

The following weeks entail complete mayhem. With the end of spring rapidly approaching, excitement buzzes throughout the city. Notably, he overhears many talking about your business and the new flower gifting service.

The Windblume Festival is a special time for Diluc. His father used to take him and Kaeya as children, back when the world was a little happier. On the night of the festival, he stands at the booth contemplating. Unlike a majority of the citizens of Mondstadt, he has not a clue who to give a flower to. Flora frowns.

"Um, mister, are you ever going to write a name down?"

The quill halts just above the piece of paper. "I don't have to sign my name, do I?"

"You can send it as a secret."

Diluc looks up from where he's bent over, observing you from a few feet away. You're conversing with some ladies who are interested in your bouquets. It was a good business idea to do something like this.

He only meant to support your idea as a friend. Now he's conflicted on whether or not he should dare to write your name.

You look absolutely radiant tonight with magical crystal chunks strewn about your hair and a crown of flowers circling your head. He isn't sure he's ever seen someone so beautiful.

He finally decides. When you turn back around to give him your attention, he's gone.

He's sure that will be the end of it, and that after tonight your brief and strange relationship with him will come to an end. But then you come bounding up to him just as he's about to head out.

"Look! A flower!" You exclaim, shoving it into his face. He's pleased that you like the one he picked out for you.

"Yes, I see that. It's nice."

"Nice? Nice?! It's adorable! I've never gotten one before."

He looks at you funny. "Never?"

"Nope," you laugh sheepishly. "I don't really get out much. Too busy running the shop."

He takes the flower from your hands and tucks it just behind your ear, adding it amongst the crown of Asters surrounding you like a halo.

"It suits you.”

"Does it?" You ask him quietly.

His heart beats furiously. How could he ever steel himself when you have such a big smile on your face, adorned with flowers and gemstones?

"Will you dance with me?" The question leaves him before he can stop it. You look at him in wonder, with his fingers brushing the hair from your face. Whatever evil overtakes him in that moment, he'll have to thank later, because without hesitation you're dragging him into the middle of the plaza with glee.

You come to learn that he isn't exactly what you'd call an elegant dancer. He only knows movements that he learned at banquets held by his family— basic steps born from obligation.

"I thought you'd be better at this," you tease, allowing him to pull you along by the waist.

"I don't dance," he huffs. "I haven't in a long time."

"We should dance together more, then."

Diluc sighs, but there's a tiny smile spreading across his face. "I guess we should."

"This flower... do you know what it represents?" You gesture to the bloom tucked behind your ear. He shakes his head and you continue, "It means everlasting love."

He laughs at the irony.

"I see. How... fetching."

"I wonder who it was," you smile to yourself. He thinks you look breathtaking.

Diluc's lips curl at your joy. He twirls you under his arm once, twice, then pulls you back into his body as he considers your words.

"Yes, I wonder who," he mutters with an amused expression that you just barely miss. And he knows exactly who, but he's not sure if he could handle seeing you melt into a lovestruck puddle at his admission.

Diluc dances with you in spring, under the warm glow of lanterns and the taste of grape juice staining his tongue. He dances with you, and it smells of the Windwheel Asters that crown your head and mint jelly on your breath.

He tugs you a little closer, just because.

SUMMER

If you were to ask Diluc how he felt about these big "charity" events, he would scoff in your face and lecture you about how they were nothing more than money traps set up by the Knights of Favonius.

He would say it purely out of spite, of course, mostly because he knows Jean is too kindhearted to allow for such shady business. Openly, at least.

His distaste for the Knights and all they stand for are not hidden deep in his heart. He sneers when there's a casualty— mocks their inefficiency at any given opportunity.

You never knew him to be such a bitter man when it came to the Knights. Diluc was good at keeping up his polite and indifferent charade to their practices.

It wasn't until the beginning of summer when you realized his loathing. It was their own incompetence that led a horde of slimes directly into the city, nearly smashing your little shop to bits.

You've never seen him so furious.

Outwardly, he was simply curt with them. He had only a few choice words lined up when they apologized with their heads hung low, watching them with his arms crossed over his chest.

Inwardly, you could see the anger swimming in his eyes.

That was three weeks ago. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to think that just three weeks ago, they were leading danger straight into your shop and now here they are, asking you to donate to their cause.

"You're sulking," you tell him from across the table. He immediately sits up straight, jaw relaxing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know," you smile at him, moving one of your pawns forward, "I think the Knights are happy you're here. Relieved, at the very least, that you don't seem mad at them anymore."

He only frowns whilst knocking your pawn over with a bishop. "I wasn't mad at them."

"You were. Even I could tell."

"They almost got you hurt."

"Almost," you remind him with a small huff. "They were just slimes! No harm no foul."

You make a fatal move, but he doesn't even gloat because he's too busy cursing out the Knights in his head.

"I just find it in poor taste that they would ask for your hard-earned Mora after endangering you like that." He shrugs you off nonchalantly, as if you can't see the fire blazing in his eyes at the mere thought of it.

You blink at the chessboard as he checkmates you, slumping back in your seat with a tiny pout. "Once again, you've bested me."

"It seems I have," he says, lips finally twitching up into a small smile.

"Don't you ever get tired of beating me at this game? I sure do."

"That's a shame. Same time tomorrow?"

He watches with a laugh as you grumble in irritation. You can't help but notice how quiet it is, even over the chatter of the people in the plaza. There's something off about him today.

It's clear that he doesn't want to be here, volunteering his time to the Knights for a cause he has no faith in. It was a favour for Jean, he told you, to which you mused that he owed a lot of friends favours.

To be a noble in Mondstadt, and especially the wealthiest, Diluc is obligated to attend all sorts of gatherings he detests. You can see it written all over his face.

"Hey," you call out to him softly, leaning over the table. Your voice is a hush as you tell him: "Let's get out of here."

He glances around. "I'm expected to be here, you know?” He laughs once more, though he seems to be considering your offer. He decides to indulge you. "Where would you like to go?"

You think for a moment, brows furrowed. He watches the minute twitch of your lips, the creases of your smile; everything about you is so alive and beautiful.

Then, you point. You point high, with a breathless giggle.

"There," you say, gesturing toward the giant statue of Barbatos, "let's go up there."

He almost flat out rejects you, wanting to scold you about how dangerous it would be and that, for someone without a vision, you sure do have the gall to even suggest it.

But then he sees the excitement twinkling in your eyes, which are already scrunched up from how big your smile is. How could he refuse?

Diluc ends up trailing behind you, inconspicuously hugging his coat close to his body. You don't realize why until you're standing at the feet of the statue.

You gasp at the bottle of wine tucked into his coat. "Did you steal that?"

"The Winery provided all of this. I would hardly consider it stealing," he chuckles.

You nudge him with your elbow, a grin on your face as you accept the bottle into your hands. "I didn't know you were so sly, Diluc."

"I used to do this all the time when I was a kid."

"Steal wine bottles?" You look at him with wide eyes and an impressed smile.

"The maids forbade me from drinking at the Winery's banquets. Try telling a thirteen year old boy not to do something, see what happens," he huffs in amusement.

"You don't even like wine," you remind him. Diluc only hums in response, grabbing it and stuffing it back into his coat as he takes his first leap up the stone.

"Consider it a gift.” He twists around so he can look down at you where you stand, watching him with a mixture of fascination and horror.

His hand extends to yours. For as many times in this life as he is willing to offer it, you would take it.

He helps haul you up to the very top, barely breaking a sweat as he watches you climb beside him. After all, he withstood countless adversaries in his time in Snezhnaya: climbed mountains as tall as the sky with nothing but his claymore.

When you ask how he's so calm about this, he only tells you that he used to climb to the roof of the manor when he was a boy.

He had a lot of secrets kept caged up in his body, you realized many months ago. Diluc was never too vocal about his time before he returned to Mondstadt.

You do remember, however, that at the banquet they threw for him to celebrate his return home, he seemed cold and indifferent to the warm welcome. In fact, it was like his mind was entirely elsewhere. You can picture the day well— it was the largest order of flowers you'd ever received after all.

You're glad he's settled back into Mondstadt, at least. You just never thought you'd have a chance to actually meet him.

He watches as you nervously teeter over to the edge of the statue, peering down with a nervous gulp. You relax when his hands steady you, gently guiding you to sit down in a more safe position.

"I've never been so high up off the ground!" You cry out toward the city, feet dangling over the edge of the Archon's hands.

"It's nice, isn't it? Much different than the kind of heights you feel on Dragonspine."

You take in a long breath of fresh air, as if savouring the wind at this height. "It's pretty.” You finally conclude. There's a dreamy sigh on your lips that makes him laugh.

He uncorks the bottle he lugged up with him, passing it over to you. Instead of taking it, your head tilts back and he takes the opportunity to pour the wine past your lips himself.

Silence festers between you two as he pours the sweet alcohol into your mouth, all rational thought being carried away by the wind.

He isn't sure how long you stay that way: shoulders touching, hair blowing, and feet dangling in the air. For someone who wanted to climb the statue to see the city, you sure are being shameless in your staring directly at him.

You're looking at him in a way that makes him melt— eyes so laser focused and crinkling with your smile. You look at him like he's the only person in the world. Right now, he might really be that important. His heart swells in his chest.

"What is it?" Speak your mind. Let me hear all your crazy thoughts.

"You came all the way up here with me. You came up here. With me."

You emphasize your point by extending your arms out to your sides, feeling the breeze wash over you.

He knows what’s coming next. You love clichés. And he doesn't stop you, for some reason, when you open your mouth again just as he predicted.

"I think I'm falling for you."

"I would hope not. We're pretty high up in the air."

You swat his arm with a huff, face turning a little more serious. "I mean it!"

Diluc grows quiet, looking out toward the city. His home. The place he grew up, and the place he'll spend the rest of his days. The distant sound of people chattering, water flowing from the fountain, music playing: all sounds he's grown so familiar with and yet—

"I love you."

—he never thought it could be so beautiful until he climbed up here with you.

"You love a lot of things," he muses.

"Like what?"

He looks at you softly. "Like Cecelias. Mondstadt hashbrowns for breakfast. And you say you hate the cold but I know you love it up in Dragonspine— think it looks so pretty with all the snow."

You nod, mulling over his statement before asking: "What else?"

"I know you love that orange apron; Flora's mother sewed it for you herself, didn't she? And you love Anemo slimes, think they're the cutest thing in the world even though I've seen them explode in your face multiple times before."

You're listening to him intently, watching his lips as he lists off all the things he knows about you. And he's been going for so long that you have to wonder if you've really only known him for eight months.

"You love Starfell Lake and making wishes while you blow away Dandelion seeds. You love fire seelies and tea imported from Liyue and going to charity events like this even though you don't owe the Knights any of your time."

Another silence settles between you.

"So I'm a romantic. Even then, you still won't accept that I love you?" You ask him quietly.

He hesitates only for a moment, but you still catch it. "I won't."

"What is it with you and your cynicism about romance?"

"It's not like I don't believe love exists—" He’s looking at you right now, after all: living, breathing proof that Diluc could love something. "—I just... it's not for me."

"Not for you?" You repeat back to him in disbelief. "Love is beautiful, you know. You don't even want to give it a chance?"

You're looking at him earnestly, both hands pressed against the stone of the statue beneath you as you twist to stare him down.

"It's complicated," he murmurs, tearing his eyes away from yours. In his peripherals, he can still see you facing him. He doesn't dare look at you again for the sake of his own resolve.

Love was always a messy emotion for Diluc. To love was to trust completely, to be vulnerable and open. But he's been betrayed one too many times for his heart not to ache at the idea of falling in love so willingly.

It terrifies him— to have someone holding his heart in their hands with the chance that they could crush it into dust with the snap of their fingers.

Diluc was alone for many years in the northern region of Snezhnaya. He's good at being lonely. It's a part of the air he breathes, something engraved deep into his bones, terrible and grim and consuming his flesh until he's nothing.

He hadn't even realized he had grown accustomed to it. Not until he met you. Not until you stole his heart at first sight. Not until you made him understand all those times his father would speak of his mother once she was gone. It was always easier to be alone until he met you, and suddenly you came along and flipped the whole world onto its head.

Now Diluc can't be alone— he was losing the ability to sit in solitary silence without his thoughts screaming in his ears. He was constantly thinking about you. And it was always distracting things, like wondering when he would see your smile next, or when you would ever dance with him again.

Your head falls against his shoulder, hair tickling under his chin as you rest there. As if it were a remnant of eons past, his lips find the crown of your head reflexively. And you don't pull away by any means, allowing him to be affectionate the only way he can and accepting him as he comes.

The words don't need to be said anymore. He already knows. It's a story rewritten a million times over, buried somewhere deep in his soul.

He decides that maybe, just once in this life, it would be okay to take the risk. If it was you, he would be alright.

His arm comes around your waist protectively, pulling you closer into his body as if you'd disappear with the wind if he let go. He holds you there quietly, listening to your soft murmurs.

Diluc Ragnvindr deserves to be loved, is what you're telling him.

And despite the scars littering his body and the chains wrapped around his heart, he allows himself to believe it.

Diluc loves you in the summer, in the hands of the Anemo Archon. He loves you, and it smells of Dandelion Wine and the lingering scent of sweet flowers in your hair and all the things that make him dream of you.

For the first time since he returned to Mondstadt, he doesn't feel alone.

AUTUMN

It's the anniversary.

Diluc remembers the day too well— the smell of blood and flesh and how cold a corpse is. Sometimes it's all he can think about.

He cried when his father passed, as all boys would. Then, a fire replaced the hollow sadness in his heart, something fierce and dangerous and unhinged.

Fierce and dangerous and unhinged. Descriptors that he would consider second nature to him behind closed doors of the Tavern and hidden in the grapevines of the Winery. No one would ever know the real Diluc Ragnvindr, hellbent on vengeance since he was only a boy crying at his father's grave.

It wasn't until you came along that he felt something new blooming within him— something like beautiful flowers and a heartbeat slow and steady as waves on the shore, a yearning so powerful that it displaced the ugly bitterness in his heart.

Nowadays, Diluc felt like a confusing mixture of both light and darkness— treading the thin line that separated him from living in the moment with you, and seeking revenge for the past.

He doesn't realize the conflict within him has been bubbling into a raging fire, tearing him in half from the inside out, until today.

He talked to you about his father once, over a plate of sugar-frosted slime and Liyue imported jasmine tea. It was a day like any other, with you seated across from him having an afternoon snack.

My father liked sugar-frosted slime, he told you. It was the first time he'd ever let it be known that Crepus was on his mind, ever so present. A ghost haunting him. You didn't think much of it. Diluc seemed perfectly content living through his memories.

It was coincidence that brought you here on the exact day the world lost Crepus. Or, perhaps, the nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to get out of bed and come here.

Your son is a wonderful man, is what you first whispered to the grave. And then you couldn't stop the words from pouring out of you, rambling on and on about how he raised a good boy, and how Diluc had taken your heart the moment you laid eyes on him.

He finds you sitting there in the rain with a sad excuse for an umbrella popped up above your head. His father's grave is adorned with flowers of all kinds— a respect that no one had ever paid him before.

You don't realize how much you move him with such a simple act. He had long since lost faith both in the Knights and the citizens that once looked up to his father so much; after all, it was only he and Kaeya who ever came around to visit.

It's not until he crumbles to his knees beside you that you even notice his tears, your smile fading as he looks at you in confusion.

You're not sure you've ever seen Diluc cry before.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, head tilting into your palm when you reach forward to wipe his tears with your thumb.

"Saying hello," you respond as if it's the obvious answer.

"You... huh?"

"It would be rude to fall in love with you without at least introducing myself first."

"You didn't have to do—" Diluc gestures to the grave, "—all this."

You smile. "I wanted to.” And the truth is as simple as that.

You were too good for this world. Something beautiful in a place where only ugliness lives. He almost hates how much hope you give him.

The world was always black and white for Diluc. Recently, he's been finding it hard to distinguish the two.

There was right and there was wrong and there you were teetering between them, balancing hope and despair. It scared him to think of all the ways he could lose you, how he could one day end up bringing flowers to a grave with your name on it just as you did for his father.

What's the point of love if all it ends with is hurt?

He's sniffling, trying to chew on his bottom lip to distract himself from the ache in his chest. You notice his sudden quietness, turning to look at him.

"Hey.” Your voice is soft, as if he would shatter if you even spoke to him wrong right now. He might. "It's just me. It's okay."

"I don't cry. I hate crying," he admits through his tears.

He can't remember when he had cried last. Was it the day he came home? Or was it longer, like during those lonely nights spent hiding away in the mountains? The only vivid memory he has with tears staining his cheeks was the day his father died.

"You don't have to be ashamed of crying," you tell him, using your thumbs to wipe his lashes. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm Diluc Ragnvindr. I'm not supposed to cry."

"You're Diluc Ragnvindr," you repeat back slowly, pulling his head toward you and cradling it against your shoulder. "You're human. What's wrong with that?"

Diluc doesn't feel human. He hasn't felt human in a long time. He's been something more like a ghost wandering around the places he used to love. Memories tainted by hatred and grief, it was as if he would never find beauty in this world again.

"I'm not," he breathes. "I'm not anything."

You pry him off of you. He blinks at you through his tears.

"Do you really believe that?"

He goes quiet, only staring at you as he soaks in your earnest eyes.

"I don't know what I am. I don't know what to do in this world anymore."

He's a mess of emotions— he almost wishes he were back in Snezhnaya where everything made sense. Where his entire existence was built up of seeking retribution. To a time when he knew where he belonged.

Diluc Ragnvindr only ever knew revenge. Only ever knew how to inflict pain. Only ever knew how to break kneecaps and hide in shadows and keep his lonely body warm with his Pyro vision.

He doesn't know love. He doesn't know how to do it without fighting the fire burning in his stomach when he grieves—

"You're just Diluc. Do you ever need to be anything more than that?"

—or maybe he hasn't given it the chance it deserves. The chance he deserves.

He realizes then, what love must be. What kept him up at night, the feeling raging in his chest:

There was no corner of Teyvat he could ever call home without you anymore. He belonged here, with you.

And accompanied with this realization is something that he hasn't felt in many years. Peace. A stillness in his body and the calm in his mind which was usually racing with contemplation— something he never thought he would feel again.

And it's because of you. Only you. It would only ever be because of your love.

"Would you accept me as I am?"

You smile. "I always have."

"You don't know who I am. The things I've done."

"Are they that bad?"

"Awful."

You hum in thought, thumb mindlessly brushing his cheek back and forth. "We have all the time in the world for you to explain," you add with another soft smile, "I believe you have your reasons. I believe in you."

He laughs, exhales shaky. "You're insane."

"Am I? But I think you're falling for me anyways."

So what if he is? He can't find a single reason wrong with it anymore.

The rain has started to let up, the world around him lighting up with warm sun. And you look so radiant like this, surrounded by the fog brought in by the storm and shining in sweet sunlight.

"Do you think we have your father’s approval?"

He doesn't have to answer that. Not when you're already leaning in closer to him.

The diminishing pitter-patter of rain against your shabby umbrella fills his ears. You're so close that he swears he can hear your heart thundering in your chest.

Diluc has always been brave; he was a terrible troublemaker of a child that grew into a body too big for a boy— some part of him that he kept locked away for the sake of living his life as his father would have wanted. If he wanted to lead an empire of a business, he would need to grow up eventually.

He's always been brave, but he was still too much of a coward to stop using his father as a way out. Because he knows Crepus would have wanted Diluc to find happiness, not vengeance.

It's about time he stopped being afraid.

"I think he wants me to tell you something."

"And what's that?" You smile.

"That in this life—" he breathes, "—in this and the next and the one after until the stars of Teyvat run out, I will love you."

You snicker. He can feel it rumbling in his own chest. "How romantic," you tease with his breath in your lungs.

He shuts you up with his mouth.

Diluc kisses you in autumn, with the golden leaves of change. Diluc kisses you warm and sweet and long. He can't remember what was filling his senses at that moment. Your bodies were too close for him to care.

WINTER

Winter was always a bothersome season.

Even in his days away from Mondstadt, in all the time he spent roaming the north, he never quite grew accustomed to the freezing temperatures and harsh weather.

When Diluc left for Snezhnaya, he left his childhood behind, too. He abandoned who he was on the doorstep of his manor, put all his funds into the hands of Adelinde with no intent of returning, and left in the middle of the night without a word.

Half of him expected to die. The other half expected to not return by choice.

For the first few months he spent adjusting to the northern climate, he tucked himself away in a hidden cavern away from the Capital where the Tsaritsa resided. He was in no condition to battle, let alone challenge a god.

He spent many days stealthily hunting down lower ranking Fatui— people that no one would miss. At eighteen years old he had enough blood on his hands to guarantee Celestia's smiting. Blood that, as he learned, does not wash off.

He had to teach himself how to travel through thick snow. Through blizzards and hail and subzero temperatures nothing alike to those felt on Dragonspine.

And when he finally returned home, battle worn and hardened and cold, he couldn't stand the snow. Every crunch under his boots reminded him of the times he had to lug around his greatsword through treacherous enemy lines. Even the sound put him on edge for incoming attacks.

It wasn't like he was ever particularly fond of the cold but for a long time, as a boy, he would simply tolerate it. He had his Pyro vision, after all, and it never truly caused him any harm.

When Kaeya received his Cryo vision, things took a turn.

The cold represented nothing but death for Diluc. It was pain and grief and sorrow— loss in magnitudes indescribable to anyone else. It was bloodshed, the terrible stench of flesh, metal on metal. It was homesickness.

There was nothing poetic or beautiful about it. It only reminded him of all the things he had lost.

He would roll his eyes when Venti sang about the first snowfall of the season. His Pyro vision would glow until the ice melted around him. It's impractical, he told you when you first met and he was guiding you back down the mountain. It doesn't do any good except make you slip and fall.

Diluc remembers quite vividly how you snorted at that. And, like always, you went on to say things that would make his head spin. Find beauty in life even where you think it doesn't exist.

He didn't heed your advice all too much, instead grumbling about how his claymore was getting heavy and that he wanted to get back to the Winery as soon as possible.

But then he found that it was hard to ignore your words. Especially when you were showing him exactly how to do it— popping frozen grapes into his mouth that were somehow a little sweeter; mixing him hot cocoa the way your mother taught you; throwing snowballs at him from behind trees and thinking you've won until he nails you straight in the face in retaliation.

Winter always brought a smile to your face. And how could he not smile when you are?

The best part of it all was that the cold made you cling to him a little closer. A little tighter. So close that he swears he can hear your heart beating in his own ears, savouring his warmth unlike anyone he'd ever met before.

"My personal fire seelie," you joked once. He pinched your cheek until you slapped his hand away and buried your face back into his chest.

Diluc is pretty certain that he hasn't been this happy in a long time. Not since before his father passed, at least. Even with the nervous sigh that leaves him, you're urging him forward.

"I can't believe you never learned how to skate!"

"It's... not something noble families would have approved of."

"But you have this whole lake in your backyard!" You gawk. He only stifles a laugh, stumbling clumsily into your arms. You catch him as if you'd done it a thousand times before.

"Show me how it's done."

"It's like dancing," you say with an encouraging grin, pulling him along with you slowly. You're half right. Some aspects of it do remind him of a warm spring night, with music playing and your laughter in his ears. On the other hand, he can't seem to keep his skates straight.

"The ice won't fall through, right?" He murmurs anxiously, nodding at the Pyro vision hung on his belt.

"If it does, I'll save you!"

"I don't think you'd be able to carry me up from the water," he deadpans.

"I'd save you," you insist.

"Really?"

"Yes, really! For as many times as you need me to save you, I will."

And you did save him. Though, that statement is better left unspoken for the sake of the heat rising to his cheeks. Instead, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you," he whispers into your skin.

Find beauty in life. Another set of words he never thought he would understand. But he's staring at beauty right in its face and it smells like Cecelias. Dances like a shooting star. Loves unconditionally.

Diluc always loathed winter, until you redefined it into a thing he missed dearly—

Home.

crossposted to ao3!

🏷️ @rintosei hi babe its up <3

#— whispers in the wind ✧#seriously thank you to ellie #everyone go give her a big hug she deserves the world #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

565 notes · View notes

babyghouly · 1 year

Text

I’ll Be Alright Without You

Pair: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader; Eddie Munson x BestFriend!Reader

Genre: Angst, Heartache

Words: ~2k

Summary: You and Eddie have been best friends for a while now and you’ve recently realized something. You’re in love with him. The only issue? He’s in love with someone else and she is amazing. In an attempt to get over him, you decide to flee Indiana altogether. Of course you couldn’t leave so abruptly without letting your best friend know, so you confess everything to him.

Warnings: Cursing, Sadness, Heartache

Namesake: I’ll Be Alright Without You - Journey

Series: Part II; Part III; Part IV

Notes from Ghoul: OOO THERE’LL BE SOMEONE EEELSE, I KEEP TELLING MYYYYYSELF... wowee, look who is back and taking a complete 180 from her previous writings? THIS GAL! It’s been a while for good reason: I had zero motivation to write. But recently I’ve been feeling A LOT of feelings so I decided to take a crack at writing again and thus this fic was made. I honestly don’t know if I will get back into the swing of things, but I do have another unfinished fic that I’ve been meaning to finish sooooo.... we will see what happens there. I hope you enjoy it and please don't be afraid to reblog and let me know what you think 💖

Ghoul’s Masterlist

Tags: @staygoldwriting @akwzilla @creme-bruhlee @hellfire-wren @maitre-de-marionnettes

The morning air was still throughout the trailer park as Eddie's eyes slowly opened. He groaned when he looked at his alarm clock reading quarter to six, forty five minutes before he needs to be awake. Through the open window Eddie could hear a faint sound of tires crunching on the gravel outside.

A car? He thought, wondering if he was just hearing things.

It sounded like it was outside his house which was weird for this time of morning. Most people here were still working the night shift or fast asleep. The car didn't stay long because soon enough he heard a door open and shut one last time before driving off on the gravel road. Curious, Eddie turned his alarm clock off and got out of bed early.

The cool breeze from the window hit his bare skin sending a shiver throughout his body, but he didn't stop to put on a shirt or pants. He made his way onto the porch from the backdoor closest to his bedroom. Whoever was there is long gone and it didn't look like they left anything behind. Eddie shrugged, and made his way back to his room.

"G'Morning, Ed"

"Good Morning, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over the bed to give his fiancé, Janie, a kiss, "Sorry I woke you up so early, I didn't mean too"

"It's okay, I'll make it back to sleep just fine," Janie smirked, wrapping her arms around Eddie's pillow to cuddle it, "What was that about?"

"Oh nothing," Eddie said, grabbing some clothes from his dresser, "I thought I heard something outside, but there wasn't anything out there"

Janie nodded letting out a yawn while her eyes drifted back to sleep, "Have a good day at work, my love"

Eddie smiled, blowing a kiss her way before making his way to the bathroom. Once showered, he got together his breakfast, a cup of coffee with a piece of toast, and made his way to the porch to eat. Stepping onto the planks he felt something beneath him, something smooth. He looked down to find a stark white envelope with his name plastered on the front in cursive. Both intrigued and confused, he picked up the letter.

Y/N?

He recognized the handwriting and wondered why you left a letter instead of calling or just talking to him. Eddie made his way towards the couch outside and sat down. He sipped at his coffee before setting it down on the table beside him. Once settled on the couch, he wasted no time opening the note. As he did, a familiar scent tickled his nostrils ever so slightly, bringing a smile to his face as it reminded him of you; his best friend.

His fingers delicately pulled out the folded letter written on a single piece of lined paper. It looked like it was ripped out of your journal as it featured doodles in the top corner of each side. He could see smudges in the ink from where your hand brushed it before it dried as he flattened it out before he began to read:

My Eddie,

You mean the world to me, I know you know that. Never in my life did I think that the intimidating metalhead in my ninth grade science class would become my best and closest friend, but here we are eight years later. Those eight years were pretty rough for both of us, but overall they were the best years of my life. I couldn't imagine a better person to have by my side through it all.

How sweet Eddie smirked gleefully while brushing toast crumbs off him and reminiscing about the past.

Eight years of friendship sure was a rollercoaster, one of the biggest conflicts being Eddie's graduation. Since ninth grade, Eddie's been your only close friend at Hawkins High. Sure there were other friends you had, like Nancy, Robin, and Steve, but none of them were there for you like Eddie was. Being in the same grade, of course both of you planned to graduate as the class of '84 together. You had also convinced Eddie to go to prom with you after he told you a thousands times that he wouldn't be caught dead at prom.

Things seemed to be going well until the last couple weeks leading up to graduation. Eddie didn't pass a couple of his classes and ended up flunking, leaving you to graduate without him. To top it all off, Principal Higgins didn't allow him to go to the prom at all given his track record and recent flunking. Eddie knew he fucked up big time. He knew how excited you were to go to prom with him and he ruined that for you. That incident alone had Eddie fearful that this was the end of your friendship. That you'd choose to get out of town as fast as you could come graduation. But you didn't. You stayed in this deadbeat town and for who other than Eddie himself.

When it came to Eddie, there was a feeling different than any other friendship you've had before. Of course you were disappointed with him after hearing the news, but you've seen him through pretty much every other downfall in his life. At the end of the day you loved Eddie more than anything and something in you told you to stay and take care of him and so you did. It took him two more grueling attempts at twelfth grade before he graduated, but he finally did it. With the help of you, of course. Two years later and he is still thanking you for it when he can.

Eddie snapped back into reality and took a gulp of his coffee, continuing to read the letter.

There's just something that I've been meaning to tell you though. It's been on my mind a while, I never really knew how to bring it up, but I guess I have to now so here it goes:

I'm in love with you Ed.

Eddie's eyes widened and he choked on the coffee he was drinking. He reread the sentence a couple times, in denial of what it said. Once he collected himself he carried on reading.

I think it's been there a while cause I've pretty much always had a crush on you. I just didn't realize until recently that that's what it was. Things got real for me when you introduced me to Janie. I felt this overwhelming jealousy and hurt because I wanted it to be me. I hated myself for it, but I was able to hide it away pretty well. So well I convinced myself I was over you. When I heard you two were engaged, that jealousy and hurt hit me like a tidal wave all over again. From then on, every time you mentioned her, the lingering feelings would flare up. I don't like feeling that way about someone my best friend adores. I'm tired of it, Ed. I'm tired of wishing it were me with you instead of her. I'm tired of being sad over someone that makes you so happy.

Eddie was shocked to say the least. He'd always been oblivious to people's feelings, even his own sometimes. He's lucky he met someone like Janie, a real firecracker who wasted no time romancing Eddie and telling him exactly how she felt about him. She's really helped shape the man he grew to be. Since they've been together, you've noticed he's become more empathetic, though he still lacks it sometimes. Overall, you're not surprised he fell so head over heels for her, she’s amazing.

There was still more in the letter so Eddie continued.

I bring all this up because I've done a lot of thinking lately. I know I can't change how you feel, but I can't change how I feel either. Normally I would just let myself suffer in silence, but I can't anymore. I am tired of holding back my feelings for you, it's doing me no good. In all this thinking, I realized that I spent so much time taking care of you and making sure you were okay that I forgot about myself. What I wanted to do with my life, where I wanted to be, what I wanted to achieve… which is why I've decided to start college. Fall semester is starting soon. I'm all packed up and moving out of state. By the time you're reading this, I'm already long gone so there's no use in coming after me. I will miss you so much though.

I'll miss you more

But lastly, I want to wish you all the best for your future with Janie. I'm sorry I'm not ready to be a part of that just yet. I feel like such a terrible friend.

Love Always,

Your Best Friend, Y/N

Bullshit, Eddie thought, a tear hitting the page below and ruining some of the lettering on it, You're not terrible

There was one more thing written after the letter's close.

P.S. Don't think for one second I'd ever forget about you while I'm away, Edward Munson. I could never forget my best friend and my first true love.

Eddie doesn't usually cry, but this was his one exception. The sun was just beginning to rise as he stared down at the paper that changed his world just like that. He felt his heart sink, realizing all that you've suffered alone. He didn't want to lose his best friend like this, but he knew you were making the right decision for yourself.

-------------------------------------------------

In the car, you were nervously twiddling your thumbs in the passenger seat of your friend Steve's car. When you told your friends you were thinking of going to college, Nancy wasted no time to help you find a suitable college for you. You settled on one far away from Hawkins, not purposefully but it sure is convenient. Not so convenient for Steve and Robin, who agreed to help you move before you even picked a campus.

"I don't mean to pry," Steve turned down the radio to his car, "but now that it's just us... what sparked the sudden change? Didn't you graduated high school like four years ago?"

You sighed, staring blankly out the window watching as all the cars passed each other on the highway, "Someone…. someone I couldn't have"

"Heartbreak," Steve nodded, "that can do it to you." This earned a chuckle from Robin in the backseat.

"Yeah," You turned your body towards Steve and Robin to relieve the discomfort that was building from sitting in a car for too long, "I fell in love with a guy that thought he didn't deserve shit, but…"

Tears started to well in your eyes. Robin noticed and attempted to console you, "Y-You don't have to continue if you don't want to"

"Thanks Robin," the corner of your mouth lifted upward, "but it's better if I get it out now before I'm all alone in my dorm. I'm trying to let go, not hang on."

Robin smiled and gave you a supportive nod to continue.

"He thought he deserved shit, but I was so set on giving him the life I knew he deserved," You took in a deep breath and let go slowly before continuing, "But what about me? I wanted to go to college, but I didn't because of Eddie"

Both Robin and Steve's eyes widened in shock at your confession. They didn't realize your feelings were for Eddie, your best friend.

"He really thought he couldn't do it," You continued, "but I convinced him to do it not once, but twice. And now look at him"

"He finally graduated!" Robin answered enthusiastically.

"Yes," You chewed at your bottom lip, holding back a smile, "And when he did, I saw his life change for the better. He stopped dealing drugs, he got a job, he expanded Hellfire club outside of Hawkins High, I even hear he is wanting to move out of Hawkins too. He is truly happier than ever. It makes my heart so warm... a-and my heart is like a brick of ice"

You paused to collect yourself, holding back the tears you thought you were finished with.

"I just feel so stupid for letting my feelings get so out of control," You admitted, shaking your head lowly, "I was just too enticed by what could have been, I don't know why though. He has someone else."

"We can't control what we think or how we feel," Steve began, looking over to you, "That includes you too, unfortunately."

You sighed harshly, "That's true"

"But I think you're doing the right thing," Steve continued passionately, "Getting out of the shithole that is Hawkins, doing something for yourself for a change. Don't you feel empowered?"

Robin made a confused face before looking over at Steve, "Since when did you get all motivational, Stevie-boy?"

"I've been through heartbreak y'know!"

"Yeah, no doi," Robin playfully slapped his shoulder, "It's just weird seeing you like that"

"I'm trying to help!"

"And you have, thanks Steve." You smiled, "you too Robin"

"Now turn the radio on, please," Robin pleaded dramatically, "No more sappy shit"

Steve listened to her and turned the volume dial up just in time.

♫ I do these things,

it's all because of you

I'll keep holding on, but I'll try,

try not to think of you

Love don't leave me lonely ♫

You all recognized the song and thought it was fitting given your current situation. Of course you guys had to turn it up louder and sing along.

♫ I'll be alright with you,

There'll be someone else, I keep telling myself

I'll be alright without you,

Love's an empty face, I can't replace ♫

In that moment you felt a weight lift off your shoulder; for the first time throughout this whole ordeal you finally felt optimistic for the future. Even with that though, part of you still ached. This time, however, you knew things would only get better, not worse.

- END -

371 notes · View notes

mggpleasedontlookhere · 2 years

Text

the night longs for you

summary: after the loss of her best friend, y/n recounts her time with eddie, realizing she’s spent it all rambling about a boy who she thought was too occupied with nancy... but was he really?

pairing: steve harrington x reader, platonic! eddie munson x reader

word count: 2,050 reading time aprox: 8 mins

warnings: major character death mention, themes of unrequited love, angst, fluff

a/n: trying something new w/ my first fic for steve

masterlist

The empty spot of grass next to me longs for the warmth of his skin, an eerie whistle fills the silence as Indiana’s nightly wind cuts through the weeds. Even the hills of Hawkins can sense the oddity of this night… and what it had lost.

Why is it when they’re only out of sight, they’re always on your mind? What poet’s words can resolve the ache I feel at the bottom of my stomach, now that you’re not here - gone, like you never existed.

I lay on my back, feeling the very much apparent coldness beside me. Threading my fingers through the spot he used to lay on with me those August nights, I realized how much time I’ve wasted by my selfishness. I close my eyes thinking of all the times I’ve spent with Eddie rambling about a boy who’s too caught up in his head and hair to pay mind to me.

My heart lurches forward in my chest as I calculate the hours, minutes, and days I could’ve had if all I did was let go of Harrington.

How could I know that it was you I was letting go of instead?

My fists curled into a patch of grass, ripping it out of the earth just as viciously as the earth had ripped him from my hands. I tucked my head into my knees, letting my tears fall viciously into my lap. The lack of his laugh in the air left my lungs constricted and my head spinning. I could almost hear the ghost of his voice ring in my ears.

Am I crazy? How could you just leave me like that? This was supposed to be our year.

I gritted my teeth, struggling to keep my sobs at bay.

I know you wouldn’t want to see me here crying over you, Eddie. I know you’d probably tell me to grab grief by the balls and conquer it. Even now, I still see you giving me brotherly advice about Steve - to not run away, knowing I’d never have the courage to follow through.

You believed in me. I’m so sorry that I never had the chance to show you that you’re the reason that I believed in myself too.

The moon casted a solemn blue light across the hill.

The night longs for you too, Eddie.

I stare at the sight of Hawkins, a place I called home before I met Eddie. The dreamscape suburbia is tinted in a dark shadow, save a few house lights that were still on. Suddenly, a warm luminous glow etches out on the dirt in front of me, my silhouette outlined on the ground. The soft crunch of tires and the thud of a car door closing can be heard in proximity.

I’m too exhausted to perk up at whoever decided to make an appearance, only hoping that they would either go away or take me away from here. With an apprehensive descent, the spot reserved for Eddie was no longer empty; a faint scent of mahogany wood and hairspray now tickled the air.

“Dustin said I would find you here.”

I embraced myself tighter in my arms, falling prey to my thoughts rather than Steve’s presence, an abrupt change I numbly accepted. Any other day, my heart would race at the notion of being Harrington’s subject of attention. Right now, all he represents is the cowardice that I ignorantly displayed to Eddie, despite his lectures of confidence.

All that lost time, and even now, I have nothing to show for it. So why try at all? Why risk another kind of loss when I can barely handle losing you? I’m sorry, Eddie. I don’t think I can ever make you proud now, but I also don’t think I can take two kinds of loss.

“...y/n?” he whispered, leaning his head down to try to get a clear view of my face.

A dull look lay dead in my eyes, my lips inflamed from the dry air, and my cheeks glistening with an irritated bloom upon the skin. I contemplate opening my mouth to respond but all I can muster up is a barely audible croak that exposes the soreness in my esophagus.

“I know I’m not… the person you need right now,” he paused, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “But I can be whatever you want. Someone to talk to, listen, scream, cry, yell–”

“What do you want, Harrington?” Indignation hung onto my words with no real reason to why, an impertinent tone attached to each syllable. I dug my hands into the ground once more, running my palms over the earth.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you here?” I deadpanned.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. I scoffed at his reply, annoyance temporarily replacing the stabbing ache in my stomach.

You would’ve known what to say.

“All I know is that I promised him that I would be here for you…”

Even when you’re gone you’re still looking out for me, huh?

The corner of my lip quirked upwards at the mention of my best friend, however, it was short-lived as the ever familiar sensation of guilt washed over me.

“And you’re taking the advice of a dead person, Harrington?”

Steve stiffened at my brash comment, peaking out of the corner of his eye to gauge my reaction, but my composure stayed resolute.

You would’ve loved that joke.

He hung his head momentarily, mimicking the way I started to pluck strands of grass and dandelions. A claustrophobic silence lingered around us while minutes passed by like moving clouds.

With an unwavering huff, he leaned into his wrists behind him with his neck craned up into the sky. “Can I tell you something?” I shrugged my shoulders, following in suit of him and admiring the vast galaxies and planets that littered my view. “One of the last memories I had with Eddie was him advising me on my love life,” he professed, nostalgia wrapped around his words.

I hummed in subtle amusement at the uncanny similarities of my interactions with Eddie. Who knew I was best friends with the town cupid. Although, I can’t shake off the familiar green monster that was crawling up my neck. Despite the unwelcome feeling, the constricting burst of jealousy provided a reprieve from grief.

A smile etched itself on Steve’s lips, clearly satisfied to have seized an answer from me. He took this as a greenlight to continue, relaxing onto his elbows. “He was always telling me to go after what I want - or rather who I wanted,” he huffed, staring at me intently while the moon captured my attention. “I always thought it was Nancy… even if she’s with Johnathan, I–”

“Do you notice any difference in the stars today?”

Steve whipped his head up, following my line of sight. To my betterment, he seemed to drop whatever he was going to talk about, saving me from the green hue reappearing in my expression. He squinted his eyes, “I… I don’t see anything really different.” He turned to face me, perplexed. “Should there be?”

“It’s just…” I inhaled a hesitant breath, closing my eyes, “...who would’ve known the stars would look better than before, now that Eddie’s in them.”

A tear trailed down my cheek while mixed emotions of nostalgia, grief, and happiness came flooding back. My heart ached for Eddie being gone, but I knew, deep down, the stardust that made up our connection would forever float where it belonged: in eternity. A burning star was added into the night sky; one that beamed across space and could not be compared to other extraterrestrial objects. A star that was my Eddie.

“Sometimes I… I wish that I was next to him.” My voice wavered at my admission. “I wish I was next to him up there.” I clutched the necklace that Dustin lent to me, tracing the slope of the guitar pick.

I go, you go… right, Eddie? Just like it’s always been.

A sob broke through my chest, pouring out until I couldn’t hide anymore. I wrapped both hands around the chain, pressing it as close to my heart as possible. I didn’t care about Steve watching me break down. I didn’t care about eerie silence or how my body was slowly sinking into the ground.

All I cared about was being with you again, Eddie. Someday, where I don’t run away.

Steve’s arm was thrown over me, directing me into his embrace. I ignored the subtle shivers that ran up my back, too engrossed into letting the weight roll off of my shoulders. I wept into his neck, not caring about the mess that it made. My arms instinctively wrapped around his chest, holding onto him as if he’d drift into the stars too.

“Why wasn’t it me, Steve?” I struggled to get the words out, muffled by fabric. Steve gingerly palmed through my hair, pressing his chin onto my scalp. We stayed like this for eternity, exchanging passing breaths until our hearts beat to the same rhythm. I nuzzled further into him, delicate sniffles slipping past me.

“I don’t think Eddie would want that, Y/N.”

“What would you know about what Eddie would want?” I interrupted him, tilting my head up till our faces were only a couple inches away. His gaze briefly flickered to my lips, but I barely noticed considering I preoccupied with doing the same.

“Well, he always told me to go after what I wanted, Y/N.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “And if I’m honest, I don’t think I ever truly did that… even if I thought I did.”

“Guess the feeling’s mutual…” I muttered, shaking my head at the reminder of my own failures.

“I would hope so.” Steve whispered under his breath but recovered swiftly enough to not raise suspicion. “It’s just… I think Eddie was always preaching about pushing boundaries and taking initiative. But, I think it was also because he cared about his friends… he cared about making these bold statements, but only if he had his friends beside him. If he had you.”

I sucked in a breath at his explanation. “Do you think so? Do you think Eddie would be proud of where we are now?” My eyes were glowing with melancholy, seeking validation from the boy who maybe seemed to share the same stardust as Eddie.

“I think he’d be proud of you,” he corrected, seeing through my apprehensive illusions and reading the question I truly wanted to ask. “For that, you’d need to be here. Now I know Hawkins doesn’t have much to offer, but in my opinion, you’re wanted here.”

I took my lip in between my teeth, still unsure about the words that easily fell off of Steve’s tongue. I guess the trepidation was evident on my face as Steve tilted my chin up to meet his alluring eyes. My heart beat slowed for a moment, feeling infinitely small with the way he was looking at me.

There was something unspoken in his irises - something I’ve never noticed behind the autumn brown and gold specks that flickered in and out. “I want you here,” he confessed, running his thumb along my cheek.

“But… Nancy.”

He shook his head, never breaking eye contact with me. “Nancy… I thought she was what I wanted - what Eddie was talking about when he’d given me that pep talk.” My hands loosened up around his chest, instead guiding them to the sides of his neck. “She may have shown me what the real world is and how shitty of a boyfriend I was, but you, Y/N… you hung the stars, the moon, and the sun for me. Always around me… always there.”

My breathing slowed and tremored, careful to prevent mishearing anything. Was this the adrenaline that Eddie was talking about? I understand now; the exhilarating feeling of falling after the jump.

“After Eddie was gone, I started thinking about what I really wanted after all the shit went down with Vecna. I realized that some part of me was always going to be Nancy’s because of all the things she taught me about myself. But everything else - my heart, was always reserved for you.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington oneshots #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #stranger things #st #st4

285 notes · View notes

remyfire · 2 months

Note

BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project 💜💜💜

No Excuses Writing Meme (I got excited. I'm so sorry)

It's a rare, slow night. He's sprawled on his cot, legs hanging over the edge, a beam from the sunset cutting across his pillow just barely out of range of his eye. The pervasive scent of tobacco grows yet more potent with the flick of a pocket lighter on the other side of the tent, and as it tickles his nose, it carries his attention away from the clipboard on his chest and up, up, up into the canvas ceiling.

Not for the first time, he asks himself why he's doing this.

More than anything, he loves stomping on an equilibrium with his freakishly large boots. He's known ever since he was a kid pouring chocolate pudding in his brother's diaper that if there's a set of rules, manners, societal expectations, or demands—unspoken or not—put on his shoulders, he's going to cheerfully fling them into the stratosphere with a big, big smile. Sometimes it's for fun. Sometimes it's to get a rise out of somebody. But most often, it's about enjoying the chaos that begins seeping into the air as people realize that what they believed was indelible is, in fact, easily smeared. That lovely look in their eyes, cagey or relieved. Their growing understanding that the door was never locked in the first place—that they only believed it was because that's what they were told. It's fucking intoxicating.

He has had only one sacred, untouchable rule in place for the past six fucking years. One. And he's about to throw it out the window.

"Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning?"

"Your daddy and his fat dick," he tosses back to his bunkie absently.

"Fuck off. Love the new carpeting, by the way." As his bunkie walks around, his boots crush the dozens of crumpled balls of paper scattered all over. "You want me to get started on razing the goddamn forest for you?"

"Almost done. Hey, if you're waiting on me, you might as well go. Just save me a spot, huh?"

Predictably, there are no complaints, not when there's a fresh batch of impressionable corpsmen with money to burn. The moment the door shuts, he heaves a sigh and sits up and shrewdly considers the clipboard. In this world, there are things that deserve to be toppled, and there are the rare things that deserve to stay at rest. He tries to imagine telling himself ten years ago that he'd ever have a rule to leave somebody alone, can practically feel the spit splattering on his face from Younger Him's guffaw.

Right there, right under his pericardium, there is an old, familiar ache beginning to creep in.

All right, that's it. He signs his name with a flourish, then impatiently blows it dry. I'm not fucking anything up. He folds it unevenly and shoves it into an envelope. This is not a big deal. He doesn't even have to reference anything to fill out the destination—might as well be tattooed on his brain after he heard the news a couple of weeks back. I don't even know why I'm wasting this much energy. Jesus Christ. It's a letter.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. He goes out of his way to step on as many of the abandoned notes as possible just to buy himself a little more time. But eventually he's sauntering across the compound all the way to the office with not a soul looking to distract him further.

The clerk's got his muddy boots up on the table as he leans back in his chair, thumbing through the latest smutty novel that was traded into camp.

He tosses the letter in front of him. "Outgoing."

"The bag's two steps that way," the clerk mutters, eying the envelope like it might explode.

"You don't get paid to sit there and jerk off, sweetheart," he drawls cheerfully as he leans against the wall and cocks his head. His grin slowly widens as the clerk uses the spine of the book to nudge the letter across the desk and into the mail bag, and the huff of relief he hears when it lands without issue is almost better than a good fuck. "You coming to the poker game?"

"I learned my lesson last time after those sandwiches."

Ah, that was a good night. He'd thought the whole table might start breathing fire in between the coughing and the tears. "All right, your loss." He pushes himself back to his full height and shoves his hands in his pockets as he slinks toward the exit.

"Hey, Bardonaro, are you the asshole who cut out these goddamn pages and glued them back in the wrong order?"

With a brightly whistled tune, Leo ducks through the door without so much as a backward glance.

#this is not a surprise reveal to anybody if we can be honest but i still had fun with it all the same #takes place a few days before midnight trepidations #some things are evergreen #my writing #ask meme answers

8 notes · View notes

mouseywrites · 5 months

Note

could you write RiD Starscream? a ficlet or hc- maybe he's ranting about his issues in the forest and a human happened to be nearby and they're just like: 'damn you need therapy, want to like.. keep talking but with an active listener instead?' platonic, please.

A Listening Ear - Starscream and Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 505

It was a cool and captivating day outside. The breeze was brisk and crisp, and the sky was calm and blue. Sunlight peeked through the gray clouds, warming your skin and kissing your hair. Leaves of brown and gold crunched beneath your shoes as you traversed the woodland, eager to uncover new sights, sounds, and smells during your hike.

Birds twittered while frogs croaked in a nearby stream. The citrusy scent of pine needles was fresh on your nose. Trees surrounded you from every side, swaying and whispering along to the wind.

All in all, it was a fun time. The hiking trail was easy to follow, but not many people explored the area due to the threat of bears and other dangerous wildlife. It was understandable. You, however, didn’t care much about the warnings. No, you were much more interested in finding new places to picnic.

However, everything came to a standstill when you heard the sound of someone’s voice.

Abruptly, you halted beside a tree and tilted your head, trying to discern the words. The voice was steady and firm, but growling and rumbling. It almost sounded as though someone was ranting about something.

“Those blasted mini-cons…”

Slowly, you peered through a gap in the bushes and nearly felt your heart plunge into your stomach.

He was a robot. A giant robot. At least, that was what he seemed like to you. His frame was broad and tall, and his plating was coated in multiple colors, including silver, red, and blue. On his back, there was a set of wings. In his sharp claws, he held what appeared to be a glimmering, purple sword. His face was armored and white with streaks of black beneath his red eyes. The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that he wasn’t from Earth.

“The Dark Star Saber rejects me, so I’m unable to access its full power…”

Curiously, you watched him pace in the forest clearing. He was so large that you could feel every vibration of his footsteps.

“And Megatron! Oh, may I finally have my revenge, Primus willing…”

In a way, you felt pity for him.

As you crept forward to hear more, lingering just inches away from him, a leaf crackled below you. The robot was alerted to your presence immediately. He spun around and pointed the sword directly at your face.

You didn’t run or scream. In fact, you hardly even flinched. Apparently, he considered your behavior to be rather odd. He blinked, staring at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

“You’re not afraid of me, human.” He glared. “Tell me why.”

Genuinely amused by the situation, you smiled. Calmly, you sat on the ground and continued to gaze at him.

“I’m more curious than I am afraid, to be honest.” You lifted your hand, offering him an ear. “It sounds like you need someone to listen to you.”

The robot lifted his metallic eyebrow. For a moment, there was silence.

And then, he lowered his sword.

#transformers robots in disguise 2015 #starscream #reader insert #starscream and reader #my reader insert fics #mouseyindulgence

8 notes · View notes

casspurrjoybell-17 · 2 years

Text

HEART'S BLOOD - CHAPTER 19

*Warning: Adult Content*

By the time they near the lake, whatever Ian Foley had drugged Julian Hart with has started to wear off.

Maybe the effect didn’t last long or maybe he hadn’t breathed enough of it in but either way, he’s sober and aware when he turns his car down the narrow road that leads to the lake.

It’s takes every once of will to keep his body relaxed and his breathing even.

He doesn’t want Ian to suspect that he’s anything but pliable and agreeable.

Yet.

“Park there, in those trees,” Ian directs Julian, pointing to a shadowed area behind a large dumpster.

His car will only be visible from the direction of the lake.

Julian swallows the panic pressing on his chest and does as Ian says.

When the engine dies, the silence is deafening.

“How do you feel?” Ian asks Julian, touching the side of his arm.

Julian jumps involuntary and Ian withdraws his hand.

“Good,” Julian says trying to keep his voice light.

“I feel good.”

“I know it’s worn off, Jules,” Ian says and Julian shivers, Ian sits back and remain still for a moment.

“Look, I panicked. I’m sorry. I just had to get us out of there. I’m gong to wait by that table,” he adds, pointing to a picnic table by the water.

“I’ll wait for you. Come join me when you are ready.”

Ian gets up and walks away down towards the shore.

Julian sees the black silhouette of his broad body against the moon-silvered lake and then he sits down and blends into the shadows.

Julian: ‘I should start my car and drive away. I should leave him here and go find Dane.’

Seconds tick by, then minutes.

Finally Julian curses his stupidity and gets out of the car.

Julian: ‘If Ian murders me and leaves my body in the dumpster, it will be partly my fault.’

The night air is already cold and Julian wraps his arms around himself as he walks towards the table.

The scent of lake water and pinesap fills his lunges and night insects sing loudly from the tall grass under the trees.

Julian’s footsteps crunch over the gravel as he leaves the paved boat ramp and then squelch in the soft mud as he nears the bench.

Ian turns to look at him.

He can’t see him very clearly in the dark but he gets the impression that his face is pale and somber.

“Jules I fucked up. I know it. Every time I get near you, I fuck things up.”

“We both know that, by now, Ian,” Julian sneers.

“Although, drugging me is a new low, even for you.”

“I know,” Ian leans forward, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

“God.”

“So? What the hell happened back there. Why couldn’t you just send me a text and tell me to meet you some where else?”

“I...” Ian’s breath catches and Julian realizes the option hadn’t occurred to him. “Fuck.”

“God, Ian. Even you are not that stupid.”

“I am when I...” Ian draws a breath.

“Look, I’m not suppose to tell you this. They will kill me if they knew I had. They’ll kill you too, just for knowing. But I’ve got to... I’ve...”

“Ian. Just spit it out,” Julian yells a little louder than he meant to and they both jump as his voice echos across the lake.

Ian stares at him and then starts to talk very fast.

“I’m a shifter, my whole family is, since my great-great grandfather's time. And there are others too in our clan. My dad is chief, but he’s getting old and there is a lot of unrest about who’s going to take his place. I’m too dumb for it, everyone knows that so it’s wide open. But my dad I don’t think he’s all there. I think he’s getting desperate. Afraid that some one is going to take his power. I think he’s...” Ian stops and Julian hears his throat click as he swallows. “I think he is the killer. He was in the bar at the bar and I was afraid he’s see me with you. There are these old legends...”

“Wait,” Julian cuts him off.

“You’re you a shifter? Is that like a skin-walker?”

Ian gasps at Julian.

“You know about that?”

“A little,” Julian says a little surprised at how even and reasonable his voice sounded.

“Dane and I were attacked by one last night.”

“Dane Hunter,” Ian growls and then spits.

“Him. You have to be careful around him. he’s not what he seems either. He’s a...”

“A werewolf,” Julian suggests.

“You...”

Before Ian can say anymore a deep howl sounds close at hand and Julian turns to see two luminous yellow eyes shining in the dark, beneath the trees.

An enormous black wolf with gold tipped fur black trots towards them, hackles up and tail raised aggressively.

“Dane?” Julian says, stepping towards him.

“Jules, stay back,” Ian commands and grabs Julian roughly and shoves him around behind his back.

Julian starts to protest, when Ian’s form morphs and ripples, seeming to grow before his eyes.

When he lifts his head and spreads his arms wide he’s covered with reddish brown fur and his hands are tipped with black claws.

He’s a bear.

Dane circles, snarling eyes alight with ferocious rage.

Ian drops to the ground on all fours and bellows a roar that Julian feels in his chest.

Julian realizes this is going to become ugly.

Two testosterone loaded Alpha Males have literally become animals and are about to rip each other to pieces.

That is not a show he is willing to watch.

“Stop this,” Julian yells at them but his voice sounds thin compared to the feral violence in Dane’s barking snarls and Ian’s enraged roars.

“Dane. Ian. Enough,” he tries again, with the same lack of effect.

Julian watches with mounting dread as Dane darts close, jaws snapping and Ian swings a enormous paw, missing his head by inches.

It’s probably not his brightest idea but he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Fine. Kill each other,” he shouts.

“I’m going for a swim. I’m not that good at swimming, though, so if either of you want to come and save me before I drown, feel free.”

Julian turns and strides towards the water.

The lake drops off quickly and within a few steps, he plunges over his head.

The water is cold and dark and his clothes drag at him but he pushes off the bottom, breaks the surface and start to swim.

Behind him the sounds of animal combat continue momentarily and then cease.

Either someone is dead or someone came to there senses.

He continues along in a feeble breaststroke but his clothes are heavy and his body is stiff with cold.

He’s relieved when a splashing sound nears and finally Dane’s on his shirt and hurls him back to shore.

Embarrassingly he hadn’t got too far.

Ian stands by the waters edge, rubbing the back of his head and looking ashamed of himself.

A long gash on his arm shows Dane got in at least one good strike.

And Julian doesn’t feel very sorry about it, at all.

“Are you done being assholes?” Julian gasps, shivering once he is standing on dry land.

“Are you done being an idiot?” Dane snaps.

“What were you thinking, meeting him?” he jerks a thumb at Ian.

“Alone, without telling me. And what possessed you to come with him, here.”

“I didn’t want to. He drugged me,” Julian protests and then throws his arms around Dane’s waist when he sees something wolfish in his face.

“Stop please. It’s settled. No more batman verses superman. Okay?”

Dane growls ‘an not entirely human sound’ but stills.

He feels so warm, even through Julian’s wet clothes.

“Okay. Fine,” Dane says more gently.

“You tell me, Julian. What should we do?”

Julian steps back to look at Dane then over at Ian and then frowns.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Julian sighs.

“But, we should listen to what he has to say.”

2 notes · View notes

pinkanonwrites · 2 years

Note

If your taking request, I was wondering if I could get one with either Leona or Ruggie dealing with a badly injured S/O after an Overblot battle goes wrong. Can be in the moment or taking place while they are recovering in the hospital.

Sure thing! It's been a while since I did some good hurt/comfort, so I hope you enjoy! I used Azul's overblot since the Savanaclaw boys are so involved in that one.

"Prefect? Hey, PREFECT!"

Right when Leona thought it would be safe to let his guard down, of course that's when disaster struck. In a final bid of rage and malcontent as the power of the Overblot began to leave him, Azul lashed out with a single, whipping tentacle. Before Leona could even process it he saw it thrash into your body, sending you flying back into a marble pillar with a sharp crunch. That crunch echoed through Leona's head like a gunshot as he watched your body slide limply to the floor, where you remained motionless even as staff began flocking towards where Azul now lay, equally unconscious.

Did... Did they even notice you?

Leona hadn't realized his body was moving until he found himself on his knees in the sand by your unmoving form. He could smell blood in the air, and there was a thin smear of it on the pillar where your head had thumped against it. His hands hovered for a moment, just over your body but unable to let himself commit to actually touching you. This was his fault. You were just a human, a human with no magic. He was the one who caused Azul to Overblot in the first place, and he couldn't even keep one measly human from getting hurt. No wonder he wasn't strong enough to lead.

Finally, finally, it seemed like someone else had noticed your plight, as he could hear the panicked squawks of the two Heartslabyul first-years that always followed you around just barely over the dull thunk of his own heartbeat.

"We need to get them to the nurse's office!"

"A-Are they bleeding? Oh shit, oh shit!"

"Leona? Leona!"

Ruggie's voice and his clawed hand on Leona's shoulder snapped him out of his reverie, wheeling around with a snarl on his lips. Not that it mattered, as Ruggie was far too used to his emotional outbursts by now.

"If you're so worried, why don't you help 'em out for a change and carry them to the nurse? I'll deal with the clean-up, no worries."

"Ah..." Leona quietly pulled himself to his feet, tucking you into an uncharacteristically gentle princess-carry. "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah. Just buy my next lunch and we'll call it even."

He began working his way towards the magic mirror, weaving through the crowd of panicking students as his attention was torn between making his steps as gentle as possible and monitoring the rise and fall of your breath with a steely concentration. You began to stir ever so slightly in his grip, and his hands fisted tighter in the material of your uniform as he pulled you just that slightest bit closer into his chest.

"I gotcha, I gotcha." He murmured, hoping you weren't quite conscious enough to feel him shaking. "You're gonna be alright, Prefect. You're stronger than this, anyway."

The first thing you noticed, before even opening your eyes, was the smell. The sharp, antiseptic sting of the nurse's office was offset by the scent of a freshly tumble-dried blanket, warm and cozy and smelling vaguely of some not immediately identifiable floral aroma. And under your hands, the uncomfortably thin feel of a cheap nurse blanket was nowhere to be found. Instead there was a quilt, the soft dips and whorls of crocheted yarn dancing beneath your fingertips.

You cracked an eye open, and were immediately met by the harsh glare of fluorescent lights shining down upon you, and true to what you had suspected you were carefully draped in an enormous crocheted blanket. Thick stripes of gold, brown, and black yarn covered you from head to toe. Whoever had tucked you in did so diligently, making sure you were completely swaddled in its warmth.

At the side of your bed was a small table, covered in cards and a large bouquet of flowers. a seashell-shaped cardboard box lay on its side close to you, and upon opening you found a collection of various fancy chocolates and a business card for the Mostro Lounge. And beside that table, head tipped back and openly snoring in a small and uncomfortable looking chair, was Ruggie. You chuckled, reaching out to nudge his hand one, two, three times, until he startled mid-snore and jolted suddenly to attention.

"I'M AWAKE! Geez, Leona, I'm gettin' u-?" His golden eyes landed upon you, and after a moment his face split into a big, fanged grin. "Prefect! You're finally up!"

"Yeah. My head is still killing me, but I think I'm doing alright."

"'Bout time! You had those first-years from Heartslabyul really freakin' out, y'know. No to mention Grim. He made you this, but I had to promise not to tell ya that."

Ruggie handed you a piece of paper, folded over into a crudely made card with a wiggly colored pencil drawing on the front of what you could only guess was you and Grim.

"Aww, that's so cute! I'm never gonna let him live this down. Where is this blanket from, by the way? It's so warm!"

You fiddled the edge of the quilt between your fingers as you waited for Ruggie's response, but when he sat for a moment in silence you shot him a questioning look. He was looking out the window behind your bed, a slight tint to his cheeks as he did.

"My, uh, my gran made it. She had me bring it to school cause she'd always bundle me up in it when I was sick. Said it was magic, and It'd always make me feel better. So, y'know, I figured if it worked on me, it's gotta work on you too."

You could feel heat rising fast to your own cheeks as you tucked your chin, focusing again on running your hand back and forth across the blanket.

"That's... Wow. Thank you, Ruggie. That means a lot."

"Gahhhh, don't make it weird or nothin'! Just repaying a favor, for you gettin' Leona out of his own head 'nd all. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"Well, since I was so nice and waited around to make sure ya didn't die or nothin', how 'bout you lemme try a few of those chocolates? That's the good stuff, y'know. The lounge only buys the best."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you passed Ruggie the box.

"Yeah, sure. For my knight in shining armor."

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #twst imagines #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #leona x reader #ruggie x reader #my writing #long post

646 notes · View notes

ryleigh-jae · 4 years

Text

How They React To You Smelling Them In Your Amortentia

Harry Potter Characters x Reader

Here’s a quick writing I threw together for y’all! I know I didn’t add that many characters, but I plan on adding more as time goes on. I have to work today and it has me on a time crunch with how much I can write for this one. Either way,,,,,I hope you like it and I hope all of you are having a fantastic day. Make sure to leave any requests if you have them! <3

-(y/h) stands for “your house” and (y/l/n) stands for “your last name” :)

Draco~

“So tell me, (Y/N)! What do you smell?” Hermione looked at her friend, voice filled with excitement.

The (y/h) girl took in a deep breath, her lips curling into a sweet smile, “Expensive cologne, leather shoes, peppermint...and green apples.”

Realization hit (Y/N), knowing that it was the platinum haired boy she was smelling in her amortentia. Letting out a soft breath, her eyes glanced up from the cauldron that sat bubbling in front of her. Hoping he hadn’t heard her, she looked towards none other than Draco Malfoy, who was in fact staring at her. To her surprise, his lips were slightly tugged up in a slight smile as their eyes met. That was odd because nobody had ever seen Draco smile that way before.

Just after sending Draco a small smile back, (Y/N) turned to Hermione, listening to what she was smelling. When Hermione disappeared to grab a notebook to record the results, a small origami dove landed on the desk in front of (Y/N). Her fingers slowly opened it up, eyes scanning over the writing.

Meet me in the clocktower tonight after dinner. ~Draco

Snape~

Being Professor Snape’s assistant was easily the best part of coming back to Hogwarts. He had been her favorite Professor all seven years at the school and being able to come back to work with him meant the word to her. Opening the potions book, (Y/N)’s eyes scanned over the formula for the assigned potion of the day. Snape was in his potions room, rummaging around for something which meant that (Y/N) was in charge of making the example potion for the students to see when they entered.

After adding the final piece to the bubbling cauldron, she closed the potions book and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Not noticing that Severus had rejoined her, she inhaled deeply, taking in each of the aromas that filled her nose.

“Whiskey, old parchment, herbs, and pine wood..” She listed off softly to herself, the man’s presence still unknown.

The raven haired man’s lips twitched up in the slightest, his eyes locked on her. Not to mention that the room seemed to fill with the scent of her perfume.

“(Y/N), how much perfume did you put on this morning? Seems rather strong.” His voice spoke up, half startling the girl.

She turned around, their eyes meeting as they shared a knowing look with one another, (Y/N)’s heart swelling with joy at his remark.

Harry~

“And...Done!” (Y/N) smiled, glancing between Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

The three gave a teasing, playful applause to their friend as she stirred the mixture in the cauldron. The assignment was to create the amortentia potion and record your results. (Y/N) watched quietly as each friend took a turn smelling the potion, Harry deciding that he wanted to go last. Of course Ron could smell all the things that made up Hermione and vice versa. When her turn came around, (Y/N) inhaled slowly, listing each scent as it came to her.

“Broomsticks..Honeysuckle..and fresh laundered robes.” She looked up at her friends, Ron and Hermione smirking at one another before staring between Harry and (Y/N).

Their reaction told the whole story, causing the girl to shyly look over at the Potter boy, seeing the cute little grin he was sporting. To make her feel more secure, Harry took in a big whiff of the potion, listing off all the scents that made up the sweet girl. This caused Harry to reach under the table, slipping his hand into (Y/N)’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Harry and (Y/N) snogging in a tree!” Ron teased the two, causing the friend group to burst into a fit of laughter.

Cedric~

Sitting next to Cedric, (Y/N) sniffed the air, glancing over to her long time crush. She raised a brow and laughed slightly, rolling her eyes in a playful manner. Cedric glanced over and gave her a confused smile, confused as to what she was on about.

“How much cologne did you put on today, Diggory? Bathing in that stuff isn’t gonna get ya the ladies.” She teased, playfully nudging the Hufflepuff’s shoulder.

Cedric raised a brow as he sniffed his shirt, shrugging slightly, “I don’t think I even put any on today, if I’m being completely honest with you, (Y/N). Now you on the other hand. Did you use a whole bottle of perfume this morning?”

Just as she was about to speak up again, Hermione who was passing by, paused to give the two of them a look. A small giggle passed the brunette girl’s lips as she looked between the two of them, shaking her head in disbelief. Placing her potions book down, she pointed to the potion they had all made.

“Amortentia…” (Y/N) and Cedric spoke simultaneously, cheeks flushing red as they dared not to look at one another.

Cedric was the first to speak again after a few moments, throwing his arm around her shoulders, “Good to know that the feelings are mutual, (Y/L/N).”

Tom~

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat, staring Tom down from the other side of the room. Oh how she despised him for being so perfect. Today was the day they were making amortentia in potions class and she was curious as to what she would smell. Just as her good friend Neville finished off the potion, he offered her the first smell, which she gladly took.

“What’s it smell like, (Y/L/N)? Me?” Tom cockily teased the girl, knowing deep down that he had smelled her perfume in his.

The (y/h) girl refused to look at him, her blush would tell him everything that he needed to know. Instead, she excused herself from class, heading down the hall towards the bathroom. Footsteps gained on her faster than she could note them, hoping that it wasn’t anyone following after her.

“(Y/N) wait up!” Tom’s voice called out, his hand gently holding onto her arm when he finally caught up to her, “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

Even though she knew it was a bad idea, the girl nodded, “Morning dew, the Dark Forest, and cinnamon candy.”

A grin spread across Tom’s face as he stared the girl down, hands coming to rest on her shoulders, “Do me a favor and read this after class,” the boy slipped a note into her hand before heading back to the class, glancing back to shoot her a grin once.

Ron~

“C’mon (Y/N). Why won’t you just tell me what it smells like?” Ron begged, following the girl down the hall.

He had been begging for days now and her silence on it only drove her crazy. She knew Hermione liked Ron and she couldn’t do that to her friend. But she also knew how persistent her redheaded friend was and how he wouldn't stop until he got it out of her. (Y/N) stopped just before entering the Great Hall for dinner, turning to look at Ron.

“Fresh cut grass, bonfires, and oak wood.” (Y/N) blurted out, her face going red when she saw his face light up with a bright grin.

Ron pulled his friend into a hug, squeezing her to his chest. She hesitated for a moment before melting into his arms, knowing he was genuine with his reaction. Her eyes fluttered closed for a quick moment, hearing Ron let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for telling me. Your perfume has been burning in my nose since the other day.” He laughed softly, burying his face in her shoulder.

(Y/N) let out a breathy giggle, her hands gripping onto Ron, enjoying the tight hug, “Your persistence really pays off, now doesn’t it.”

5K notes · View notes

wolferine · 2 years

Text

Sun

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Twilight Saga: Eclipse AU. Natasha is having second thoughts about being with Bruce…

Warnings: Violence

Word count: 2408

Request from anon: Consider this request since I noticed you based them off scenes from movies. A Natasha x Avenger!Werewolf Reader. Fic is based off of Twilight Eclipse, and Reader is fighting for Nat to be with her, while Nat is trying to figure out if she even loves Bruce (she doesn’t by the way and even Bruce is having doubts). So the reader and Nat have a moment like in the mountain scene where Jacob and Bella kiss.

And in that scene where Jacob got hurt, it happens to reader too, and Nat realizes that she really DOES love reader and can’t live without them. So she declares her love to Reader and they get together in the end! Happy ending for the lovely couple!!

AN: I loved this request, but we can’t forget about the iconic tent scene as well, so I threw that in there too! Enjoy!

You snort unhappily in the howling wind, snow crunching under your massive paws. The Avengers had relegated you to guard dog duty—literally, due to your shapeshifting powers of being able to turn into a gigantic wolf—outside Natasha and Bruce’s tent for the night for extra protection. While this was extremely offending, at least it gave you the opportunity to be close to Natasha, even though she was with Bruce. After all this time, you still felt you could get her to change her mind.

With your wolf hearing, you hear Natasha and Bruce arguing inside the flimsy tent.

“It’s so c-c-c-cold!” Natasha chatters.

“I thought you were Russian!”

“This R-R-Russian still gets cold.” Natasha sneezes. “Why did we not bring a h-h-heater?”

“We can send Y/N to get one,” Bruce suggests.

You bark in response. You’re not a Saint Bernard.

“Y/N, why are y-y-you still out there?” Natasha yells. “Go find a cave or s-s-something—”

While you’re not bothered by the cold at all, you also can’t leave your post.

Natasha and Bruce continue bickering, and an idea forms in your head. You morph back into your human form, slipping on the thin shirt and shorts you always carry around. The temperature is well below freezing, but you’re fine. As part of your powers, your body ran at a temperature that regular humans would be dead from.

After shaking snowflakes out of your hair, you unzip the tent flap and crawl in. Natasha is huddled in her sleeping bag, piled under four blankets. Bruce lies next to her in his own sleeping bag, but clearly his physiology allows him to withstand the cold better than her (although not as well as you).

“I’m here!” you announce, zipping the tent flap back and throwing your arms open.

“You’re supposed to be outside!” Bruce says.

“You asked for a heater, so I brought one.”

“Where?”

“It’s me, Jolly Green. Move over.” You crawl towards Natasha. At first, she tries pushing you away, annoyed by your brashness, but when her hand touches your bare hand, she all but yanks you on top of her. Your skin radiates heat and Natasha suddenly feels like she’s lying on the beach, basking in the warmth of the sun. She throws the blankets away to wrap her arms around you, pulling you into the sleeping bag with her and locking her legs around your waist.

“Oh, uh, easy there—” you say, noticing Bruce’s murderous gaze.

“Shut up,” she says, burrowing her head against your chest. “How are you so warm?”

“Wolf blood,” you say, then grin over Bruce. “You’re welcome to join the party too, big guy—”

“I’m not cold,” he mutters.

“If you insist.” You rest your chin on Natasha’s head and breathe in her flowery scent. Her icy fingers slip under your shirt and press into your back. You flinch away, more from the cold than the fact that she’s touching you so closely. “You know,” you whisper into her ear, “I can warm you up faster if you take your clothes off—”

“Stop it,” Bruce growls, and for once you take him seriously. If he accidentally Hulked out in the tent, you would all be in serious trouble.

With you wrapped around her, Natasha can finally relax and close her eyes. She doesn’t seem to feel guilty holding onto you in a way that should only be reserved for Bruce. Her breathing steadies against your collarbone and her grip around you loosens. As much as you’ve dreamed about this moment your entire life, it doesn’t feel right. And not just because you’re in Bruce’s presence.

“Jealous?” you whisper to him, not wanting to wake Natasha.

“You have no idea,” he says, and it takes you a second to realize he’s not just talking about your current predicament.

“Why is she still with you if she’s in love with me?” you ask.

While Natasha had publicly declared her relationship with Bruce, she missed no opportunity to hang out with you and lead you on. It was annoying, and later on confusing, especially when she continued to insist that Bruce was her soulmate. You knew she was lying, but she had never offered you the opportunity to court her either.

“That sounds like a question for her,” Bruce says.

“Well, what do you think?”

Bruce sighs. “I think she’s just trying to be nice about the whole thing.”

“We’re all adults here,” you say. “And she has to choose one of us eventually.” Natasha shifts in your arms and squeezes you tighter. “Who do you think she’s going to choose?” you ask, although you think you already know the answer.

“Just let me have whatever moments I have left with her, okay?” he says, resting his head back onto his pillow and disappearing from your view. Bruce is a smart man, and it’s not just because he has seven PhDs.

Even though Natasha has been most comfortable running to his side over and over, it’s you she’s really wanted all this time. She just didn’t know how to tell you or approach you. You had your own flaws, but Bruce was a safe choice. Boring, even. She knew what to expect with him, but you were a curveball she didn’t know if she could catch.

But you made her smile and laugh in ways that Bruce never could. You understood her and took care of her. You weren’t overbearing and knew she could handle herself, but were always ready to step in and help without judgement.

Natasha may have thought she could trick Bruce into believing he was in love with her, but she couldn’t trick you. You knew she wanted you, but even with this knowledge, you didn’t try to push her into changing her mind. And at the end of the day, that was all she needed to know that you were the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“Good night, Bruce,” you say. No hostility, no jealousy. You were done fighting for the woman you had literally secured in your arms.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You close your eyes and let Natasha’s steady breathing lull you to sleep.

***********************************************************************

You can’t remember getting a better sleep in your life. Bruce’s alarm goes off at the crack of dawn, and you moodily untangle yourself from Natasha, trying not to wake her but failing.

“Y/N?” she mumbles, trying to snuggle closer to your warmth as it takes you considerable effort to pull away.

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper. It was important you meet with the rest of the team at the bottom of the mountain for last-minute preparations.

“Let me say good-bye.” Her eyes open fully.

“Okay.” You have no idea what that means, but she follows you outside the tent, her body immediately convulsing in the cold.

“Nat, you shouldn’t be out here—” you say, but you don’t finish your sentence because Natasha throws herself at you. Her lips crash against yours and she locks her hands behind your head, holding onto you so tightly you can’t break away even if you wanted to. She tastes even better than you imagined, like mint and honey, and you grab onto her hips, pulling her flush against you.

Her passion lights a fire in your veins and you’re ready to strip and let her take you right there on the mountaintop. But she breaks away first, panting, and she’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you start, “But what was that for?”

“I…I just had to,” she says.

“What about Bruce?” You look back at the tent.

“I’ll figure things out with him,” Natasha says. “I heard everything you two talked about last night.”

Your cheeks flame red in embarrassment. “We thought you were asleep.”

Her hands slip down to your waist and squeeze gently. “I’m a trained assassin, Y/N. Learning how to control my heartbeat was one of the first things they taught us in the Red Room.”

“Wait, really?”

“Promise me you’ll be careful down there,” she says. “I know how you can be sometimes.” But it’s not a personal attack. You were basically invincible in your wolf form, which caused you to make some very questionable decisions on occasion. You always had good intentions, but Natasha could be very protective, and if she was going to call you hers, she wanted to make sure you were okay.

“I’ll do my best.” You run your hands down her arms and step back. You pull off your shirt and shorts, folding them into neat triangles and tying them around your ankles. Natasha eyes you hungrily and you wish the circumstances were different.

Your arms and legs tremor as the shift begins and you turn around, leaping into the air and morphing into your wolf form. Your hands curl into paws the size of trash can lids and fur the same color of your hair sprouts from every patch of skin. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you race down the mountain, literally chasing the high of Natasha finally admitting her love for you.

You will survive the battle so you can have her back in her arms, this time finally able to call her yours.

***********************************************************************

The battle against the Chitauri is won, but at an unthinkable cost. When Tony Stark decided to celebrate prematurely and wandered onto what he thought was an abandoned road, a 16-wheeler truck piloted by a stray alien barged through at over 60 miles an hour. Without thinking (of course), you threw yourself at Tony, knocking him out of the way, but were unable to clear yourself in time and the truck caught you in the side.

Almost every bone on the right side of your body shattered upon impact. You collapse onto the street, writhing in agony before you find your breath and howl so loudly that Natasha hears you from the mountaintop. The sound pierces her heart like a sword and she falls to her knees.

It was that moment that Natasha realized who she truly loved. The thought of something terrible happening to you caused her physical pain. She couldn’t imagine living in a world where you weren’t there by her side.

So, she promised herself that she would leave Bruce and go after you the first chance she had. If she wasn’t already too late.

Your team race to get you on the Quinjet and back to the Tower to be treated. But your enhanced healing is too quick, so your bones heal in all the wrong directions before you even arrive.

Steve and Thor are called into the medical bay to help hold you down while the surgeons rebreak your bones. You burn off the morphine too quickly for it to have any use, forcing them to up the dosage until their supply runs out. But they can’t wait for the next delivery (although Tony is literally sent to the nearest hospital for more), so they start the process anyway.

Your screams echo through the Tower and Bruce takes Natasha outside so she doesn’t have to listen. Her heart breaks when she thinks about how much pain you’re in and how scared you must be. It tears her apart to know how she can’t be at your side to comfort you in such a vulnerable moment.

She tries to distract herself by finally dealing with Bruce. It doesn’t even feel awkward when she tells Bruce that she can’t continue with their relationship. He knew the break was coming, but glad she was the one to initiate it. With that, Natasha goes to wait for the surgeons to finish on you so she can be the first to see you.

You’re moved to a private room, your entire body wrapped in braces and casts. When Tony finally returns with the morphine, the doctor pumps you with so much of it you’re basically paralyzed.

A nurse informs you that Natasha is waiting outside your door, and you ignore his request to get some rest and have him bring Natasha in anyway. When she sees you, you’re lying on your left side, a blanket draped up to your shoulders to hide the damage.

“Y/N?” Natasha whispers, as if speaking any louder will break you.

“Nat?” Your own voice is hoarse and rough.

She comes up to your side and lowers herself so you can see her face. “It’s probably a stupid question to ask, but how are you feeling?”

“Nothing,” you say. “When Tony finally got back with the morphine, they put so much in me I’m pretty sure my heart’s not beating anymore,” you joke, although the heart rate monitor assures both of you that it’s still working.

“That was a very brave thing you did,” Natasha says.

“And stupid.”

She laughs, but you can only smile, because laughing would probably break your twice-healed ribcage into pieces.

“Is Bruce not mad that you’re here?” you ask, trying to remember the little love triangle you were all involved in.

“No. We...We’re not together anymore.”

“Finally,” you sigh.

“I think he knew it was coming,” Natasha says.

“Even I knew it was coming,” you tease.

“Hmm. I guess I was only fooling myself then.” Natasha folds her hands together. “So, you probably already know that I’m in love with someone else—”

“Who’s the lucky person?” you tease.

“You.” She bites her lip as she looks at you. While there were a million things she wants to do with you—to you—obviously, you can’t do anything until you recover.

Your heartbeat soars, and the heart rate monitor makes sure to broadcast it to the whole room. Natasha chuckles. “Can you come lie with me?” you whisper.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I literally can’t feel anything right now,” you say.

Carefully, Natasha climbs over the railing of your bed and settles gently next to you, curling around your prone form. She keeps her arms pinned to her sides, afraid that her touch will break you. Her very presence calms you and when your eyelids start to droop, you know there’s no hope in keeping them open.

“Once I get out of here,” you slur, “I will make sure you never regret choosing me.”

“I know I won’t.” The bed shifts as she leans forward to kiss you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxxc-blog @supersourlemon13 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @d14n4ol @whitelotus00 @happylittle-dillpickle-12 @ssa-shaylam @mjaudrey @jazromanoff @ryunniez @007giu @wandaslittlewhore @ymzki-haruki @ki33es @fayhar @m-zne237 @kyalinsworld @bentleywolf29 @furys-eyepatch @kermy48 @awkward-and-indecisive @whofan88 @alexxislex @marrymemcgrath @marvels-bitch-boy @bonkie-barnes @makegoodchoices @thewidowsghost @darkangelxoxo @t00manyfand0ms @k47-r47ny @alexxislex @anastasiabeaverhousen87

AN: Thank you again for the wonderful request.

Click here to be added to my taglist!

Thanks for reading, and until next time...

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow fanfiction #black widow x reader

218 notes · View notes

radioduo · 3 years

Text

roses and riots: chapter 1

i could count the stars (wait until the dawn

notes: apoc au ^-^ this has been in the works for a while, so hope u guys enjoy! thanks to @b1rdza for the title and the letting me plan things w them :}

tws: blood, injury, violence, talks of death and zombies

Ranboo stared at his phone, slightly cracked and looking worse for wear, reminiscing over the photo on his lock screen. A picture from two months ago of him, Tubbo, and Tommy beaming at the camera. Ranboo returned the smile. Probably a picture Wilbur took on their moving day.

Two months ago, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo began living together. Two months ago was the last time everything was normal.

Ranboo leaned against the wall of the now crumbling apartment and laid his head back against the foggy windows with a sigh. He could hear Tubbo in the other room quietly singing a cheerful tune and fiddling with some new gadget on his own. Tommy still wasn’t home from the scouting trip he had left for hours ago, and as the minutes ticked by, more and more anxiety gnawed at Ranboo's stomach.

Speak of the devil, Ranboo thought to himself as the communicator next to him began to buzz. It was Tommy, unsurprisingly. Ranboo gingerly set the phone down and picked up the other device. “Hello?”

“RANBOO, GET - krzzkr - HERE, THERE’S - skrzzkz - FUCKING HORDE HEADING OUR - krzzssz - HELP-”

Ranboo flinched and held the speaker away from his ear as he sprang to his feet. “Oh god, alright. Hold on, Tommy, I’m getting Tubbo and we’re going. Where are you?” He pulled on his boots and grabbed the musty red rucksack that hung next to the door.

“WEST- kzzszrt - NEAR THE DINER-”

“Just stay calm, Tommy, find a hiding place, you know the drill,” he knocked on Tubbo’s door urgently, but there was no response. "Are you k- whatever," Ranboo threw open the door, muttering to himself. Tubbo yelped in surprise as the door swung open, flinging his arm out and knocking his project onto the carpet. “We’ve gotta go,”

Tubbo took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, bossman?”

Ranboo began to explain, but Tommy seemed eager to take matters into his own hands.

“TUBBO, THEY’RE FUCKIN’ AFTER - skrzztz - YOUR HELP RIGHT NOW, GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE - kryzztz - TO GOD I WON’T FORGIVE YOU IF I DIE,” he yelled through the radio. Tommy was breathing heavily, and Ranboo and Tubbo could hear quick, heavy footsteps pounding against the pavement.

“Oh fuck, okay, we’re coming, Tommy!” Tubbo grabbed his yellow bag from the foot of his mattress, abandoning his gadget and nearly knocking over his trash can full of failed prototypes. “Where is he?” he asked Ranboo, straining as he tugged his shoes over his heels.

“West Elm, near the diner,” Ranboo said as he pulled his mask over his face, leading Tubbo into the kitchen and grabbing his crowbar from the counter. “We’re on our way, just stay hidden and stay put.” Ranboo ended the transmission before Tommy could keep shouting at him and pulled open the door. “Let’s go, Tubbo,”

Tubbo hoisted his bat over his shoulder and tugged his goggles over his eyes. Wordlessly, the duo slunk out from the crumbling apartment building and down the street.

Nothing new, Ranboo noticed as the two speed-walked around the dilapidated city. Broken glass lined the pavement in front of shopping outlets, rotting wooden planks covered doors and windows, and the smell of flesh and blood filled the air around them, pungent and nauseating. The acrid scent slithered through the mask over Ranboo's nose and snaked into his nostrils, and he fought back the urge to heave as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

Rapidly rounding a corner, Ranboo tore his eyes away from the city scenery, stifling a gasp of surprise as he and Tubbo found themselves face to face with a gathering of the undead.

With bulging eyes and mouths lined with yellowed, broken teeth, the pack shuffled down the debris-covered road in the opposite direction, still oblivious to Ranboo and Tubbo's appearance. They seemed too busy tracking something out of sight to pay attention to the smell of fresh, unspilled blood nearby. Unfortunately, Ranboo realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach, the thing they must have been searching for was Tommy, and to find him, he and Tubbo would have to make it through the horde of the starving dead.

Tubbo stared ahead at the mob, a sour expression painting his face. "Don't tell me-"

"We have to, Tubbo. Unless you want to leave Tommy to die over there."

"I'm gonna be honest bossman, that sounds pretty fuckin' appealing right now," Tubbo replied dryly.

"I really hope you're joking," Ranboo answered. "C'mon," he urged, gripping the crowbar in his gloved hands, and charged forward like a bull.

The zombies, luckily for Ranboo, moved slowly, giving him time to react between attacks. He swiped nimbly with his left hand, slamming the metal bar into the face of a corpse, taking its head off with a satisfying crunch. Ranboo heard a grunt next to his ear and rolled out of the way right as an undead creature swung at him, nearly grabbing his arm and pulling him back. He brought the crowbar down into the skull of his attacker and looked away as the creature made a strangled sound in the back of its throat. Bobbing and weaving through the sea of the undead, Ranboo slammed the crowbar into every shambling body he could reach, over and over again. He yelped as he suddenly felt something grab his arm, sending a wave of pain up his arm from the iron-like grip. He wrenched his hand away frantically and stabbed the crowbar into the zombie's eyes. Breathing heavily, he scrambled away from the horde and into the clear at last. Ranboo gripped his sore arm and anxiously looked over the sea of corpses. Tubbo hadn't come out of the mob yet, and Ranboo's stomach twisted with fear at the thought of something happening to him.

A loud smack came from somewhere inside the cluster of bodies, and at last, Tubbo appeared, waving his bloodstained baseball bat like a madman and shouting a string of curses at the undead hands grabbing at his clothes. He ran to Ranboo's side, gasping for air. "Don't ever fucking make me do that again, okay?"

Ranboo grinned, relieved that he seemed unharmed. "Alright, alright, whatever," he said, flicking a drop of blood from his face. "We have to keep moving or they'll catch up with us."

----------

Tubbo and Ranboo slid open the diner door silently, stepping over the upturned chairs and tables as they walked into the abandoned building. "Tommy?" Tubbo whispered. "Are you in here?"

"Tubbo?" A voice answered. A head of curly blond hair popped up from behind the counter, and an unmistakable look of relief swept over Tommy's face when he caught sight of the two. "Thank fuck," he muttered, breathing a sigh of relief and dragging himself to his feet, hauling his backpack with him. "I wasn't sure how much longer I'd last." Crawling out from behind the counter, Tommy pulled his green bandana down from over his mouth again and faced the duo. "How'd you get through that giant fuckin' mob back there?"

Ranboo and Tubbo held up their crowbar and bat, respectively. "We managed," Tubbo said with a shrug. "That's beside the point though, why have you been gone so long? You were supposed to be back, like, two hours ago!" The three inched towards the door as Tubbo talked, slipping back into the streets and booking it in the opposite direction they came from.

Tommy huffed, trying to keep up with his friends. "Other than those dickheads back there keeping me away, I stopped by Phil's place for a bit to get us some food," he explained through deep breaths. "We haven't been able to get out much, thought it'd help." He held up his lumpy bag, obviously full of cans and boxes.

"Tommy, you know carrying food long distances is dangerous," Ranboo huffed, pulling ahead of the group as they rounded a corner. "Those things can smell just about everything, what made you think that was even slightly a good idea?"

Tommy made an indignant scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Well, ex-CUSE me, Boob Boy, for wanting to help out you and Tubbo. That's my bad," he said, placing unnecessary emphasis on the last two words.

Ranboo rolled his eyes with faux annoyance as the three of them kept walking. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"

"Not enough clearly," Tubbo answered, amusement obvious in his tone.

"Oh my god-" A hand flew over his mouth as Tommy suddenly took a sharp turn and flattened him against the bricks of a rundown building. Ranboo bit back a pained grunt as his aching arm hit the bricks. "I can hear those fuckers nearby," he removed his palm from Ranboo's masked mouth, and the three of them pressed their backs against the crumbling wall. "Is there another way we can take?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes darting back and forth as he strained his ears to listen for the familiar groans of the undead. "There are only a few that won't take us, like, two hours," he whispered. "Most roads loop around the city, and-"

"-and there's no way in hell that we'd make it back alive if we travel in the dark," Tubbo finished bleakly. He stared at the ground, lost in thought as though he were hoping the answer would write itself on the sidewalk. "So what now? Just stay here and wait until the morning? Surely not," he looked up at the other two. "I mean, that's a death wish right there,"

Ranboo and Tommy nodded silently. "I guess there's always Phil's place, but that's a couple dozen blocks down the road," Ranboo suggested, glancing up at the sky. It was only marginally darker than when they'd left, but Ranboo knew the light wouldn't last for much longer - especially not with the luck they'd been having. He absently rubbed his sore arm, careful to keep something from hitting it again. "We'd have to leave now to be there before dark,"

"Don't tell me we have to fuckin' walk even more," Tommy griped loudly. "I just got back from his place, are you sure there isn't a faster way home?"

"We can leave you here with the horde, if that's what you prefer," Tubbo retorted. Slinging his yellow bag over one arm and hoisting his worn baseball bat over the other, he dashed down the street, calling to Tommy over his shoulder, "Hurry up, dickhead!"

"Tubbo, wait-!" Tommy shouted back as he and Ranboo followed suit, jogging down the sidewalk behind Tubbo to the safety of their friend's home.

It was nearly dark by the time the three came to the pale blue house. It sat on the city outskirts, barely safer than the houses on the inside but at least ten times cozier. Tommy rapped on the door raucously, and Ranboo and Tubbo cringed as the sound echoed, definitely alerting the nearby zombies to their presence.

They didn't have time to worry about that, thankfully, as Phil greeted them at the door, looking relieved. "You guys scared the shit out of me," he breathed as he ushered the three teens inside. "You can't just be out wandering and knocking on strangers' doors,"

"Phil, if you were a stranger, this would be very awkward right now," Ranboo said, kicking his boots off and shoving them in the corner.

"I'm- oh my god, you know what I mean," he replied exasperatedly. "Be careful out there, is all. I don't know what I'd do if you guys got hurt."

Silence fell over the group as they heard the subtext of Phil's words. 'If you guys got hurt again.' Ranboo peered over at Tubbo, whose hand had subconsciously drifted up to trace the burn scars that outlined his face. Ranboo's own hand had floated up to touch his bruised arm carefully. He wouldn't tell Phil about it. Not yet.

Coughing, Ranboo broke the silence as he drew his hand away from his injury and undid the clasp on his cloak. "Welp, uh, I'm gonna sit down if anyone else wants to come," he invited, plopping the heavy fabric in a pile with the rest of his things and wandering into the living room.

The fireplace was burning, and Wilbur laid next to the orange flames, half-lidded eyes staring sleepily at the ceiling. He blinked and sat up as Ranboo entered the room, still alone as Tubbo and Tommy followed Phil into the kitchen, discussing something Ranboo couldn't quite hear. "Hey, Rhombus," Wilbur smiled, holding back a yawn. "How goes it?" His eyes darted briefly to the yellow sweater Ranboo wore.

Ranboo shrugged, removing his mask and catching the brief smile that flickered across Wilbur's face. "Could be better, I suppose," he replied.

"I think you said that last time," Wilbur noted.

"Yeah, well, it's been hard to be great recently," Ranboo said, barely audible.

Wilbur nodded sagely nonetheless, shuffling away from the fire to sit on the carpet in front of the couch. "You're not wrong," he agreed. There was a moment of silence as Wilbur looked up at Ranboo, who sat stiffly on the sofa, clutching his arm lightly and staring blankly into the fire. "You all good?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Ranboo answered, blinking himself out of his stupor and brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. "Just- pain is all. Nothing a little sleep can't fix," he insisted. Ranboo could see the doubt in Wilbur's eyes, and it made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure why. "I'm alright, seriously," he repeated. "I'd let you know if I wasn't, you know that."

"Right." Disbelief laced Wilbur's words, but he didn't pry, nor did Ranboo want to offer an explanation.

Wilbur opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn't get the chance as Tubbo peeped his head into the room. "Dinner's ready big man, if you're interested," he said, jabbing a thumb behind him towards the kitchen, the comforting smell of potato soup wafting through the house. "You too, Wilbur, I guess," he snickered.

Ignoring the lighthearted banter between the other two, Ranboo inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. It smelt like home, he thought, a small smile painting his face. Wordlessly, Ranboo padded through the doorway into the kitchen, where Techno, Tommy, and Phil sat around the table waiting.

"There you are," Techno greeted him, reaching for the soup spoon. "We were starvin' to death in here, c'mon man," he joked.

Ranboo huffed a laugh through his nose. "Sorry about that," he apologized, running a hand through his hair. "Been a long day." He caught Tubbo's eye, who agreed with a slight head nod.

"It's alright, mate," Phil assured him. He held the bowls as Techno ladled soup into them carefully. "We get it." Phil handed him a bowl, steaming and cozy, and Ranboo gratefully accepted. "Just hang out for a while, alright?"

The six of them sat around the small kitchen table, eating together and listening to the radio as songs old and new alike filled the air. Tubbo and Wilbur sang duets, and Techno and Tommy made increasingly strange parodies as Phil and Ranboo watched with amusement.

Tommy and Techno were mid-song about Phil when the music suddenly stopped, harsh static cutting through the joyful atmosphere like a knife.

"WE INTERRUPT YOUR PROGRAM FOR AN EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT," the prerecorded sample recited. "ATTENTION, ALL CITIZENS OF NEW LENSLING COUNTY: A MANDATORY EVACUATION IS BEGINNING TOMORROW AT 11 AM. ALL PERSONS LIVING IN THE CITY MUST RELOCATE BEFORE THE END OF THE WEEK."

The once bright mood at the dinner table quickly sank, dread and icy cold fear replacing the warm feeling of family and safety.

"What the fuck?" Tommy murmured, turning the radio volume up to the max.

"COUNTY OFFICIALS WILL BE INSPECTING HOMES TO ENSURE THAT EVERYONE HAS EVACUATED. SAFE CITIES ARE AS FOLLOWS: ATTSTONE, WORWICKE, LANGSTEDSHIRE, SHANTOWSEA, AND SOUTH BIRBED. FURTHER QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED AT-"

Wilbur turned off the radio with a harsh slam. "Great," he growled. "What the fuck do we do now? Surely they don't expect us to just be happy with this!"

"All our shit is still at home!" Tubbo added, agitated. "There's no way we have time to grab it tonight, and it'll take ages to get back to the apartment in the morning!" He grumbled. "This is bullshit!"

"Calm down, you two," Phil cut in, trying to curb the anger bubbling in the air. "We'll figure something out, okay?"

Tubbo and Wilbur had the same disgruntled look in their eyes, jaws set and eyes shadowed. "Fine," Tubbo muttered, standing up to look at Phil. "Tell us then, what's the plan? Do you even know what's going to happen to us?"

"Tubbo," Ranboo warned. "Calm down. We're all figuring it out as a group."

Tubbo folded his arms and sat heavily in his chair, still irritated.

Techno was already rifling through his things for a map of the county. "The safe zones were all cities nearby," he said, seemingly to himself. He rolled a thin map out over the table, careful to avoid the drops of soup. "Attstone, Worwicke, et cetera. The closest one to us would be-"

"South Birbed, innit?" Tommy finished, shoving his now-empty soup bowl out of the way to lean over the table. "It's 'bout a week-long trip on foot," he explained. "We could be there in no time if all of us leave first thing in the morning,"

"Hold on, Tommy," Techno stopped him as Tommy took a breath to say something else. "One of us needs to stay behind and let someone know where we're goin', right Phil?"

"They need to send a message to all the safe zones to tell 'em how many people to prepare for," Phil confirmed. "I'll stay behind, tell whoever may stop by that the six of us are heading south, yeah?"

Ranboo and the other four shared a look of hesitance, none of them quite sure how to respond. "I don't want to leave you behind, Phil," Ranboo admitted. "Are you 100 percent sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Phil waved a hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry about me, mate. I'll catch up with you all in no time."

Phil's promise sent a wave of relief around the room. Wilbur and Tubbo looked more at ease, and Ranboo, Techno, and Tommy all breathed a sigh. "We should probably pack up our shit, I guess." Tommy rose to his feet, stretching and yawning. "Early start tomorrow, aye?"

They all stood, some more hesitant than others, and dispersed to their respective sleeping quarters. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo trekked upstairs single file, carrying their bags, weapons, and everything in between into the large bedroom silently. It wasn't like they hadn't done this same thing before, but something about knowing it might be the last time for a while made the mood feel more somber than usual.

Tommy flopped onto the large, pillowy mattress with a sigh. "I can't believe we're being fuckin' kicked out," he muttered crossly, a change in mood from the upbeat leader persona he'd put on downstairs (probably to prove himself to the adults). "And to South Birbed of all places!"

Ranboo snorted, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. "What did South Birbed ever do to you?" He asked, watching as Tubbo crawled onto the bed next to Tommy.

"I dunno, it just seems like a shit city," Tommy shrugged.

Tubbo smacked him with a pillow, and Tommy yelped in protest, shouting a string of curse words at his assailer. "Mercy, mercy!" Tommy begged as he and Tubbo began a pillow fight.

Ranboo looked on with mild intrigue but didn't join the party. Instead, he slipped away from the other two into the bathroom and shut the door.

He pried his gloves off his hands and rinsed his face, desperate to clean the dirt and grime from his forehead and fingers. Ranboo stared at himself in the mirror, watching beads of water run down his face. He looked like a mess, he thought briefly, before drying the water with a towel. He winced, feeling a shock of pain flow up his arm as he blotted the water with the scratchy cloth. Deftly, he rolled up his sweater sleeve to examine his arm.

A little bit of broken skin, Ranboo noticed. He caught sight of a few small indents, which he assumed were from fingernails digging into his arm when the zombie had grabbed him. He made a mental note to keep checking the wound before it got infected and rolled his sleeve down again.

With a newly clear head, he reentered the bedroom quietly. Tommy and Tubbo had already claimed the bed, he noted, as the two laid on either half of the mattress, Tommy's head and Tubbo's feet on one end and the other way around at the foot of the bed. Ranboo sighed as he realized he'd have to sleep on the floor. Swiftly, he snagged a pillow from the bed, careful not to wake the already-snoring Tubbo, and dragged a throw blanket from a basket to sleep beneath. Begrudgingly, he laid on his makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had never noticed it before, but shining overhead was a galaxy of artificial stars, blinking and twinkling. The question of "why" briefly crossed Ranboo's mind as he stared at the bright little shapes above him. It made sense, he supposed, since the room belonged to Wilbur years before he, Tommy, or Tubbo ever stayed there. Still, he thought, it was surprising that Phil had kept them up there after all this time. Maybe he wanted to keep a little piece of the good times with him.

Ranboo felt a pit form in his stomach as he thought about the future (or possible lack thereof). The uncertainty made his stomach churn as he yawned, eyelids drooping. Thoughts of traveling and an image of the artificial galaxy were fresh in his mind as he rolled over that night, shutting his eyes and letting the darkness of sleep wash over him at last.

#ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #technoblade #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #blood tw #injury tw #violence tw #zombies cw #my writing

160 notes · View notes

ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

pogue v. kook

summary: after an unexpected event that leaves you in shambles, topper thorton, rafe cameron, and kelce prove to be unliekly friends.

warnings: typos, probably.

notes: i had this idea and posted it, to which i got some good feedback, and then @anonymous0writer entertained all of my ideas so i thought why not have her write some of it. i’ve also made an option to be removed from my taglist. it’s getting quite long and there will be no hard feelings if you want to be removed.

this is my gif. please credit if using.

You were not a Kook.

Not by blood, anyway. Kiara and Sarah had roped you in on the “Kook lifestyle” over the years with sleepovers and other shenanigans, and despite being the only one out of the trio who was a Pogue, it never felt like you were disparaged. Upon meeting them for the first time at fifteen when you moved to the Outer Banks, you knew that these girls would be the type of people you’d want to keep around for a while. Now that all of you were about to embark on the next chapter of your lives, it seemed like the perfect summer to relax before leaving for college.

You were aware, mostly because of JJ, the attitude Pogues held towards the residents on the other side of the island. Then came Sarah dating Topper, Rafe’s insistence on annoying the absolute hell out of all of you, and Kelce’s back and forth attitude when he was with his friends versus when he was alone. It was tiring and even you had to admit life would’ve been better if you were ignorant towards the “Kook vs. Pogue” debacle. You were a Pogue through and through.

When JJ asked you to be his girlfriend eight months ago, you felt like things were falling into place and your life was running how it should be. You two had been the first to break the sacred rule that John B. seemed to be the only one to reinforce and none of the other Pogues had any objections about your relationship as you two had been pining after one another for what seemed like an eternity.

But a month ago was when you felt a sudden change. It was unspoken, subtle, and hard to pinpoint. JJ became less available and wasn’t as forthcoming as he usually was. You could tell he became more reserved and it looked as if he had to force himself to sit next to you on the HMS Pogue or greet you with a kiss when you arrived at the Chateau. Your mind immediately went to his home life and you decided not to ask any questions, knowing JJ would much rather deal with it on his own and come to you if he needed anything.

However, seeing all of the Pogues laugh at the far left table on the outdoor patio at The Wreck had put the first seed of doubt in your mind. JJ was sitting next to Kiara while John B. and Sarah were in front of them, Pope on the end, laughing loudly that you were sure the other beachgoers were able to hear them from the other end. You had been walking aimlessly, wanting to breath the scent of salt air and walked the short path you usually took when you wanted to clear your mind when you stumbled upon the Pogues hanging out with one another, seemingly without inviting you. You tried not to think about it too much.

By this time, you noticed the sudden change in JJ’s mood and attitude. When you were around, he barely spoke and averted his gaze whenever you tried to reach out for him. His muscles would tense when you’d lean on his chest or grab his hand but you noticed he had no issue letting Pope jump on his back as a joke or hold his hand out for Kiara when she stepped off of the boat.

The hurt in your chest grew every time you’d put your hypothesis -- you being the only person he shied away from -- to the test, it left you with internal pain as you realized JJ was talking to you less. He didn’t come over as often as he used to nor did he volunteer to walk you home like he always did. JJ almost never kissed you in public, opting to kiss your cheek instead or give you a loose hug as a way of saying hello or goodbye. But when you sat the other Pogues interacting with JJ, it was business as usual. You thought about talking to the others about what you’d been noticing, but every time you saw them around JJ, it was a reminder that they were friends long before you moved onto the island three years prior.

You knew it wasn’t your place to talk to them about the issues you were having, and you knew you were most likely blowing this feeling out of proportion. You rationalized by telling yourself what you had been noticing was nothing but your mind playing tricks on you and it wasn’t like the Pogues were ignoring you in full. The lost touches JJ failed to make up, the eyes that dropped to the floor when you entered, the hushed tones when you spoke up felt like it happened more often as you started to overthink. It left you feeling hollow inside as if there was a vacuum of space that wasn’t able to be filled no matter how many times you tried to distract yourself.

The feeling of uneasiness in your stomach first began when you and the rest of the Pogues were lounging in the living room of the Chateau one evening. You were on the couch with JJ, you were on one side while he was on the other side when, usually, you’d be perched on his chest. Your stomach sank as JJ laughed, eyes lighting up in the way you loved, when Kiara started dancing, hips swaying to the soft beat of music pumping from her phone. As soon as your blonde haired boyfriend practically leaped up once the girl gestured for him to join her, you felt your body disconnect. Almost as if you were watching the whole scene play out from outside your body.

There you were, sitting on the couch, frozen and Kiara danced with your boyfriend when you struggled to get him to acknowledge you. You watched silently as Kiara moved her hips while JJ’s fingertips grazed the material of her shirt as he brought her closer, dancing along to the invisible steps Kiara set in place. It was like they’d been practicing for days, learning each other’s moves before they were even made. His body moved gracefully with hers, easy and free. You weren’t sure what hurt more, seeing JJ dance with Kiara the way he used to with you or your friends encouraging their antics and not questioning why they were so close.

Your throat closed up and it became hard to swallow as your heart gave a little ache. The feeling in your gut worsened when JJ moved naturally with Kiara because when he returned to you, he was stiff and tense under your desperate touch. His eyes wouldn’t light up with joy as they settled on you, if they did at all. However, they did as he spun Kiara around, her curls bouncing as his toothy grin emerged, lighting up the Chateau. The familiar smile did nothing to soothe your bad feeling.

No matter how much you yearned for your familiar JJ back and the ease of hanging out with the Pogues, you didn’t move. Your fingers didn’t twitch and your eyes didn’t water as you watched the Pogues slowly join the dancing pair, the four a picturesque scene painted before your eyes, and you hated it. You hated the way they’d been slipping through your fingers and easing you out of their life so easily. You hated knowing they were just fine as friends before you entered the picture and that they wouldn’t bat an eye if you left. As the increasingly negative thoughts jumbled in your head, rising to a symphony of noise, you only saw red. The tears burning the back of your eyes stung, but you refused to cry in front of them. But there was no way you were going to stay, feeling hopeless as you watched your boyfriend and friends slip away.

Pushing yourself up from the couch roughly, you stood, anger seizing your veins. “I’m leaving.” You stated, the words choppy and lined with barbed wire.

The Pogues stopped, halting in their easy movements as they watched you leave in a hurry, steps thudding against the wooden porch and then crunching against the gravel as you fled. John B. looked at JJ with a glance but the blond shrugged and watched the door after you left, not bothering to walk out to ask why you had left so abruptly.

Though that was the last time you set foot in the Chateau for the rest of the week, the sick feeling sitting dormant in your gut worsened. As much as you missed your friends -- when they wanted you around -- you refused to go back to the place you felt like you lost them.

But in a cruel twist of fate, you were forced to as you had forgotten your board at John B’s. You begrudgingly headed back with a sigh. As you walked down the worn path of John B.’s drive way, intending to just grab the surfboard and leave, you had the sickening feeling that the wave was about to break. The wave had been building all this time, and now, as you arrived at the door of the Chateau, the ripped screen door flapping softly in the breeze as your hand was poised to open it, you knew it was gonna crash.

With a sudden rush of bravery or stupidity, you pushed open the door of the Chateau, expecting the Pogues to be on the couch talking or eating. But they weren’t there. No one except the last two people you wanted to see.

JJ and Kiara. JJ with his hands on Kiara’s hips as she sat on his lap, tongue down his throat. Kissing. JJ and Kiara kissing.

You stood on the threshold of the doorway and dropped your metal keys on the wooden floor, causing Kiara and JJ to look at you abruptly. Her eyes widened as she jumped off of JJ’s lap and pushed him away, JJ doing the same as you tried to pick your keys up without looking at either of them. Your hair kept getting in the way as you tried to hold back your tears, not wanting them to see your reaction when you picked up your house keys and turned around.

“Wait!” JJ called out for you. You turned around for a brief moment and watched as he ran after you with Kiara in tow, standing awkwardly at the door frame with her hands crossed over her chest. She avoided your gaze as you looked back and forth between two people you thought were your friends.

“Are you serious?” you asked softly, your voice breaking in the process. JJ winced when he heard you speak.

“Y/N,” he breathed, but he couldn’t find an excuse in his brain that was worthy enough.

“With her?” you asked, finding it harder to fight back the tears.

“Hey,” JJ said, a little edge in his voice that told you all you needed to know. “That’s your best friend.”

“No, she’s not,” you said. “Neither of you are my friends.”

“Don’t walk away,” JJ pleaded as you turned around. He jumped forward to reach for your arm, pulling you back gently to ask for your forgiveness, but you knew he was only sorry because he got caught.

“We’re done, JJ,” you said, pointing between the both of you. You turned towards Kiara and motioned the same. “We are not friends.”

“Y/N,” Kiara said, her voice breaking the same as yours had done a mere moment ago when her guilt settled in. “I swear we didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did happen,” you replied. “You were making out with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, and you feel guilty because I caught you doing it.”

“Don’t throw away our friendship,” JJ pleaded with erratic breaths. He could feel his chest compress as if someone had been throwing continuous punches without letting him take a breather. “We can fix this. We can fix us.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” you began, throat tight, but you had to get the words out, “you threw away our friendship the minute you decided to cheat on me.” You turned towards Kiara. “How could you do this?”

Kiara looked at you with glossy eyes and you recalled all the times you would’ve dropped everything to comfort her and dry her teary eyes, but now you couldn’t be bothered to give her a tissue. You scoffed and chose not to spare either one of them a glance as you turned away, your heart beating in your chest, running to the clearing above the beachside.

You sat on a patch of rock overlooking the ocean below you with your knees to your chest, water droplets splashing on your kneecaps from tears you were trying to hold back. The sound of the birds chirping above you and the water roaring below you weren’t enough to drown the negative thoughts swimming in your head and you were left with a bitter, empty feeling as you wished to be one of the beachgoers who enjoyed the sunny day.

“Mind if I sit?” a voice asked from behind you. You turned around after wiping your nose and underneath your eyes with the back of your hand and saw Topper Thorton standing, looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

“If you’re here to make fun of me,” you said, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t been crying a few minutes prior to his arrival, “I’m not really in the mood.”

Topper shook his head and sat next to you, leaving adequate space between the both of you. When he realized you weren’t objecting or told him to go away, he mimicked your stance and pulled his knees to his chest as he looked at where your gaze was. Topper could hear your quiet breaths as you tried to calm yourself down and he tried not to look at the dark circles beneath your eyes. In truth, the boy hadn’t found any reason to find you annoying or hate you completely, but it wasn’t hard to put you into the group he never got along with. You tried to ignore his presence, finding that, for once, he was not being as annoying as he was when he was with Rafe and Kelce.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Topper asked awkwardly. You laughed ironically, wiped your eyes, and looked at him with an incredulous expression.

“Why do you care? I don’t want to be the subject of whatever you and your friends laugh about.”

Topper shook his head and he knew he had no reason to be mad at what you said. He knew how he and his friends were. There was no denying how brutal they could be as they teased your friends, that much Topper knew. But he couldn’t stop himself from following you when he saw you run past him hastily, disappearing into the bushes. Topper’s curiosity got the better of him and he couldn’t explain the heartbreak he felt in his chest for you when he saw your usually bright and chirpy demeanor crumble into a teary-eyes ball on the warm rock below him.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you. You stared ahead and wiped your eyes once again, not knowing how to respond. “I know what you think of me and I know you have no reason to trust what I’m saying, but I just want to know if you’re okay.”

You stole a glance at Topper and saw he was looking at you already. His shoulders were relaxed and his attention seemed to be completely devoted to you, which was an odd thought to come across. You’d never spoken to Topper without Kelce or Rafe beside him, nor did you have any pleasant conversations with the boy who claimed to care for your wellbeing. Topper made no effort to comment on your unruly appearance, or the fact that your eyes continuously leaked with tears you desperately tried to hide, but part of you didn't care. He was the first person in a while to ask if you were doing okay.

“No,” you said, your voice breaking. Topper’s heart softened. “I, uh, I just walked in on JJ and Kiara kissing.” Topper’s eyes widened. He may not have enjoyed his time around the Pogues, but even he knew how infatuated the two of you were with each other.

“What?” he asked, surprised. You laughed in self pity and shook your head, wiping your eyes once more.

“I never thought he’d cheat on me,” you replied. “He always talked about wanting to tell the truth and being loyal to his friends but he couldn’t extend that decency to me.”

Topper knew this feeling all too well. While his relationship with Sarah might’ve sprouted because of their parents’ expectations, he grew to like the girl more and more as each day passed and he felt as if Sarah felt the same. It wasn’t until a year prior that he learned about her infidelity, with John B. no less, and he felt as if his world was coming to a complete stop. The girl he was infatuated with had no problem running into the arms of someone he didn’t get along with, and Topper was sure his distaste for Pogues increased because of that.

“I know how you feel,” he said quietly. He averted your gaze when you looked at him in favor of looking at the ocean. “When Sarah cheated on me with John B., I just came to terms that I probably loved her.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” you asked rhetorically. Topper let out a breath.

“It does,” he said. “Deep down I know it’s wrong, but John B’s the reason I don’t like Pogues anymore.”

“C’mon, Topper. Did you ever like Pogues?” you joked. Upon hearing your voice sound less accusatory and more playful, Topper allowed himself to laugh. “Do you know why it’s frustrating, to me at least, when Kooks mess with Pogues?”

“No, I don’t,” Topper said genuinely.

“It’s because people make fun of us for what we were born with,” you explained. “I didn’t ask to be born to a family that has to work to live. It’s hard to live comfortably knowing people who have a lot of money make fun of me because I don’t. It’s not anybody’s fault for what they were born into. It just hurts a little.”

The boy, naive in his own right, felt oddly at peace with your confession. Internally, he knew he was privileged and saw the way Rafe would boast about his expenses and privileges, and he knew neither him nor Kelce would be as vocal about it as Rafe was. Still, his friends encouraged the unruly behaviour towards the Pogues and he never second guessed it. But hearing your confession, especially when you were trying to make your voice steady and catch your breath from previously crying, made him think about all the times he’d wanted to tell Rafe to leave the Pogues alone.

“I’m sorry,” Topper apologized sincerely. “For whatever it’s worth.”

You smiled, the corners of your mouth curving into a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Topper. He bit his cheek, trying not to show how proud he was of himself for brightening your mood, even if it was by a short stretch. The both of you let a comfortable silence settle in, the sound of laughter below you while the sky remained bright and sunny.

“Hey,” Topper began, looking at you. You turn towards him and he sees that you aren’t crying anymore. “Do you want to, I don’t know, hang out sometime?”

“Topper, if this is your way of asking me out--”

“No!” he said abruptly, clearing his throat. “I just mean that, if you want a friend, I’m here for you.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I mean it. No games, nothing.”

“Thanks,” you said, moving your hair behind your ear. Topper pulled out his phone and asked you to put your phone number in his contacts, sending you a text message to make sure you had his number. You were aware of the risk you were taking, and how you might end up being the laughing stock of the Figure Eight residents, but at this moment, you didn’t care.

It’d been a little less than a week since you fled the Chateau and Topper had found you on the rock. And since then, you felt happier. No more friends pushing you out of their life or cheating boyfriends. While you would’ve never thought you’d be friends with Kooks, especially the likes of Rafe Cameron, you liked it. You had to say you almost liked them better. The boys were outrageous in the best way and after you got used to being with them, it felt so easy to slip into old habits of trusting people with your delicate feelings.

When Topper had initially introduced you to Kelce and Topper, Kelce was less reluctant to “initiate” you into their friend group compared to Rafe. The boy, ignorant in his own right, wasn’t afraid of hiding his distaste for you because you were a Pogue.

“Rafe, you never have anything important to say so I suggest you think before you speak or shut up altogether.”

Rafe shut his mouth when you spoke as you eyed him down. Kelce and Topper were laughing behind you as Rafe’s cheeks turned red with a blush, embarrassed to have been caught being called out. Begrudgingly, Rafe welcomed you onto his boat and spent the next four hours getting to know you and decided that he was wrong about the kind of person you were. With a little time and convincing, Rafe had promised to never mess with the Pogues or make fun of them for being one, and you found yourself considering Rafe as one of your best friends just as he considered you the same.

The sun was beating on your back, the water sliding down your skin cooling you off as you returned from a dip in Rafe’s pool. You hum, leaning back in your pool side chair, the cold glass of lemonade spiked with whatever alcohol Kelce got his hands on pressed against your cheek as you tried to battle the heat.

“You good there, Princess?” Rafe called out from across the pool as he emerged from the sliding glass doors with a newly opened beer in his hand.

“It’s too hot,” you complained.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kelce said, laughing as he jumped into the pool.

“Show off,” you muttered at his near perfect dive.

“Okay, be honest,” Topper piped, looking at you while tipping his beer in your direction. “I’m pretty sure the Pogues think we all have a thing for you, so, if you had to fuck someone, who would it be?”

“Is that even a question? Rafe, in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Rafe said, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to wink at you,

“Please don’t fuck in front of me,” Topper said, sighing as he closed his eyes.

“Why would you say that?” you said coyly, enjoying his reaction. “We’d never.”

“She’s too smart for her own good,” Kelce said, joining the three of you by the pool chairs.

“Not to be too cheesy, or anything,” you began.

“Uh-oh,” said Rafe. “She’s about to get cheesy.”

“Shut up, idiot,” you muttered. “As I was saying.”

“As you were saying,” Kelce repeated. You gave him the finger.

“As I was saying,” you repeated, “I know all of you know what happened between me and the Pogues and I’m really happy that I found you guys as friends. I never feel pressured to do anything when I’m with you guys and I appreciate that you let me have a life outside of this friendship.”

“Pogues are bitches,” Rafe said. You gave him a look. “For what they did to you.”

“And you didn’t deserve to be cheated on,” Topper said. You pouted, putting your hands over your heart as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Guys, I'm going to cry,” you teased, pretending to wipe tears from underneath your eyes.

The rest of the afternoon was spent by the pool before moving to Rafe’s living room to watch an endless amount of movies, forgetting that the world outside existed.

The beach wasn’t as busy as usual despite the warm weather. You and the three boys decided to head to the water after they agreed to learn how to surf upon your insistence and neither of them could deny your kind smile when your lips pouted and your eyes widened.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Kelce said, falling on his beach towel after trying his hand at surfing. You walked behind him, laughing as you watched his body lay limp on the towel. Rafe and Topper had given up not too long ago, opting to sit on the sand and dry, tanning in the sun while taking videos of Kelce trying to surf for the first time. Your skin felt cool from the ocean water and you motioned for Topper to hand you your water bottle. Rafe squinted as he watched you gulp from the spout, his sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“How are you so fucking good at surfing?” he asked.

“Been doing it since I could swim,” you said with a shrug, tossing the water bottle in your tote bag.

“Damn,” Kelce muttered.

“Is that JJ?” Topper asked nonchalantly, looking in the distance. You turned to where his gaze was and tensed your jaw when you saw JJ, accompanied by your former friends, kicking a soccer ball not too far from where you and the Kooks sat.

“I don’t want to think about it or talk to them,” you said, groaning as you situated yourself on your beach towel. You brought your knees to your chest and put your sunglasses on, trying to make yourself seem smaller than you were.

“It’s okay,” Rafe said. “We can fight them if you want us to.”

“No,” you interjected, knowing Rafe was kidding, but you knew he’d do it if you asked. “You don’t need to do that. We’re all adults here.”

“Except Rafe,” said Kelce. You chuckled, your mind temporarily distracted from the Pogues.

You caught Kiara’s eye and turned around before she could say or do anything else, opting to keep yourself busy by straightening your beach towel. Topper and Kelce tried to distract themselves by talking to one another and Rafe, knowing how you felt about your former friends, glared at them from behind his sunglasses.

“Are you serious?” you heard JJ say from a distance. You looked up and saw him scoff as he dropped his beach towel on the floor and walked to you, seeing you surrounded by three of his least favorite people. “You’re hanging out with Kooks now?”

“What’s it to you?” Rafe asked nonchalantly with a hint of annoyance. JJ looked beside you, where Rafe was sitting, and scoffed.

“You let him speak for you now?”

“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” you replied calmly.

“So you decided to go ‘full kook’ and abandon your friends and, what, are you and Rafe fucking?”

You looked at him from where you sat and gave him an incredulous look, standing up from where you sat and faced him. You crossed your arms across your chest as you thought how ironic it was for him to be complaining about the company you kept when you caught him cheating on you not too long ago.

“You don’t get to ask me that when you cheated on me with Kiara,” you said aloud, gesturing at the other three Pogues walked tentatively towards the both of you, careful to keep their distance as you spoke.

“And you chose to be friends with them?” JJ asked.

“Listen,” you said. “All of you have been friends way longer than I’ve been friends with you and for the past few months, all of you have been acting like I’m not even there.”

“We didn’t--”

“You did, JJ,” you said, snapping your fingers in front of his face to acquire his attention. “You pulled away from me with no explanation and got annoyed every time I would ask if you were okay. You never bothered to call or text me anymore and ignored me whenever we were together, JJ.”

“So you’re ditching your friends for some Kooks?” John B. asked.

“I haven’t felt like I was one of your friends and every time I wanted to talk about it, all of you shut me out. I know you’ve all been hanging out without me and I’m pretty sure you guys knew JJ and Kiara were messing with each other too.”

“But we’re your friends,” Pope pleaded. He looked back and forth between you and the boys who were sitting next to you.

“Well now she’s found other friends,” Kelce spoke. “Maybe she’s allowed to have other friends.”

“Not with dipshits like you,” JJ spat.

“I’m allowed to have other friends,” you said. “With you guys, I felt like I couldn’t be friends with anyone else because all we did was hang out with each other. I never felt like I could do anything if it wasn’t with any of you.”

“Y/N,” Kiara began, “we didn’t--”

“You don’t get to talk to me and beg for my friendship,” you directed at Kiara. “You don’t get to tell me what a good friend is when you were fucking around with JJ behind my back. You kissed my boyfriend. It’s always about ‘family’ with all of you until you feel like something’s threatening that. All of you are so dependent on each other that you can’t accept when somebody wants to have a life of their own. None of you have been my friend for the past few months and, quite frankly, I’m done being treated like a rag doll.”

“And the Kooks are better?” JJ asked.

“They make me feel included,” you said. “I don’t feel like I have to choose. I can be my own person when I’m with them and none of them made me feel ashamed for wanting a life without them. So, yeah, the Kooks are better.”

Even the four teenagers standing in front of you had to admit they enjoyed how the three boys stopped messing with them like the previous summer and they hadn’t pieced it together until they saw you sitting with them at the beach.

“Neither of you,” you said, pointing between Kiara and JJ, “get to tell me how to feel. You made your beds, now lay in it.”

Hastily, you picked up your beach towel and paid no mind to the four pairs of eyes watching you leave. Topper, who noticed you neglected to pick up your bag, grabbed it for you as he beckoned for the other two boys to do the same. Neither Topper, Rafe, nor Kelce spared the Pogues another glance and, for once, it wasn’t because of their status; it was because they made you feel less than you were.

“You know we love you, right?” Topper asked, bumping your shoulder with his.

“I’m glad someone does,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple.

You left the beach without another word and sat in the passenger seat of Rafe’s car, not bothering to look at your former friends as you drove away. But you felt a newfound sense of peace as you sat in the passenger seat, watching as Rafe queued a playlist, Kelce giving you a gentle smile, and Topper patting your shoulder as a silence gesture of telling you he was proud of you. All would be okay.

***

taglist:

@jellyfishbeansontoast @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @simpingforrudypankowonly @hi-my-name-is-riley @antoheartit @runway-to-my-aid @kayleypaige2233 @jroseron @mahleeyuh @deviouscharitos @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @wasabiwitteks @waywardbabie @parkerpetertingle @cheshirecat107 @ballerinafairyprincess @underratedmisfit @gardengirl-18 @thankfulfortimmy @voguesir @madzleigh01 @suhoey @yeslifeofateen @spn-marvel-nerd @outerbongs @cleverandwitty @scottish-sim @lonely--witch @thin-spiration-for-me @britnicole11 @ilovejjmaybank @goodgodimaweirdperson @beckester @boyvluve @jamielinnsmith @asmallhobbitruinedmylife @whosxthat @ollyoxenfrees @thesadestsadperson @leilanixx @a-daydreamers-day @sofianunes10 @sleep-i-ness @shxwarmq @fandomngirl @nightxshadex201 @eternalqueensworld @shreckluver7 @fourfearsofdivergent @stfukie @lauren-sun13 @brithedemonspawn @abbiesthings @croissantpants @victorianvampirebf @elliesshitofablog @starkeysgirl @lover2448 @scandalousfemale @marvelismylifffe @holland-styles @alondra-melendez @pogue-h @mfmaddyperez @sspidermanss @outerbankslove @bxbyyyjocelyn @jjsbxtch @rudethchalamet @srirachibi @shawnssongs @shoppingcarthappiness @calumbroutledge @jayjaymaebank @goldenhanna @harrysbbby @copper-boom @void-maybank @rudys-pankow @x-lulu @serrendipiity @storiesbymads @danicarosaline @allie-mcginn @thistreasurehunter @k-k0129 @annedub @urlocalbrochure @freeshavocadoooo @katiaw2 @ceestlaviemylove @wicked-laugh @kamcrazy123 @myrandom-fandomlife @clio-muse-of-histories @yeehaw87 @manip-maker-blog @rudypankow-whore @iichydobrik @jjtheangel @httpstarkey @peqchyharts @myhead-myuniverse @normatural @vindictive-hearts @Spycemilk @loveylangdon @mybrainiswhack @judayyyw @midnightmagicmusingsmain @jjsmaybitch @little-ms-awkward @obxmxybxnk @5am-cigarette @xinsonyax @gabbismith5 @heyitsmeimdead @fullpanicmode @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @o-b-x @iamaunicorn4704 @jj-maybabe @jjmaybangme @newhopenessie @the0uterbanks @llvinlavidaloca @ponyboys-sunsets @angvelics @lilpeekabooze @thatbloodymuggle @couldyouspeaklouder @apoguecalledjj @collectiveuniverses @starkeymarkey @goldenharryvol6 @teenwaywardasgardian @milamaybank @merchantjjreply @lustgardn @curlybrownhairedboys @booksandshish @ilymarkchan @ihatemyself21 @bailspogue @deathcompass @alternativehp @keepingupwiththepogues @kylosleftbuttcheek @stargazingstarkey @rafescameron @katrynec @ilovejjmaybank @teamnick @jjaybank @kiarascarreras @sunwardsss @fandomtravels @jeyramarie @honeybunchcalum @ughitslizz @sleepyhollands @adanielle8 @jeyramarie @paradigmax @whoseblogsthis @sweetlysilent @outerbanksbro @i-mmunity @extratragic @jjbaby @jj-bxby @jjmaybanksbaby @drewswannabegirl @letsgotothehop @sugarcoatedcalum @wiensrsoldier @serious-killer @karleeluv @jj-baebank @secretmoonphantom @outerbankslut @obxsummer @poguesrforlife @broken-jj @sortagaysortahigh @erraaxh @haharudy @kimxft @rubjeffo @hannahrisacher @family-buisnes @king-ronnoc @sexytholland @28cnn @maraseavey @jurassicjosie @bolaurel @perfektionsmakel @masintahin @everyonesababe @rudysmaybank @koufaxx @broken-jj @catieiscute2001 @blueflame2778 @rudths @reconcilereid @anonymous0writer @secretlyablueunicorn @outerbankspogue @starlightstarkey @bolditalicwriter @pcterparxer @olsenholic @rottencoregirl @writingwieny @psg-for-life @hollandlovely @poguesinablanket @figure-pogue @kiarasmaybank @xloue @bellaguarneri @localfangirlx @perfect-ginger-maniac @truulovee @just-a-bitchybisexual @littlelillylollipop @pankowrudeth @jjandreidsgirl @caringparker @obx-saltlife @poguelifesurfshop @poguestyleskye @haute-shawn @hmspxgue @molsypops @niccsal @curlypunk @sleeplessreader12 @itsmederyn @thecurlsofgod @allielozoya @b-groovyyy @blindedbyyourgrace17 @kt219567 @french-fries-bouquet @overly-b @hanistarsxx @thebookisbtr @wilddheartt @alytavzla @punkladymoes @hmspogueobx @brightcosmos @an-untamed-rose @addictofsupernatural @mediocrearistophanes @buckethatseason @laconic-eunoia @agentstarkid @sunflower-beauty @spideyvibez @meaganjm @yourstrulyzerotwo @r0s3mm @floretsoleil @flowersinvegas @unknown-user84 @jooorrdd @ethereallust @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @unfortunatekiwitrash @celestialmaybank @kayleea122 @mynmuses @trashmouthpogues @natalie-kate-98 @maraudersandco @millssssonline @vaswn @lindysti @casper17 @princezukohere @itsagurl @everyonesababe @kaitieskidmore1 @aesthetic-lyssa @crispywolftreeflower @yesp0ny @broken-jj @beth-winchester21 @diverdcwn @cozyshawn @pcterparxer @comphersjost @bbygrlsyd @lovelynerdytraveler @obbx-tings @m-a-d-e-l-i-n-e-e @curlybrownhairedboys @jjshands @rachelfizzyhizzy @outsider-at-hogwarts @Magcongirl52 @drewsstarkey @chocolaeth @damnobx @hoeforshows @lemur46 @honestlywtfisgoingon @beth-winchester21 @bruhjustdont @iknowwhatihavefound @jillianwritesstories @sleepyhollands @etherealtony @sofianunes10 @slytherinquill @invocacao-dos-unicornios @coloradogirl07 @no-shxt-sherl @maybankobx @jjmaybankg @itsallblueblackwhereimfrom @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @jjbanks @that-one-weird-fangirl2020 @rewindlr @beautyandthebleh @kenziemcnicol @dirtyskittlewater @luvbabyjade @p0gues4l @sunfl0w3rvol6 @theloveofpeterparker @ebonyyyy-e @niagaratears @alilybush @julesclues @aleeciamackenzie @outrbanxs @trinnwazheree @fangirlika @hotel-colson @talksoprettyjjx @106sami @ohbabycal @takisss @spam-to-follow @toloveortobeinlove @alexis-marrt022 @lovingonshawn @drw0301bieber @diverrdown @finelinebitch @amortiff @velvetxvignette @emptycanvasposts @kcxxlove @its-fun-to-fantasize-4 @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @Sugarglohss @strawberrydonkey @heavenlymama @cxrlyrxe @thotbutpurple @ibookofstars @kayladownunder @jjaybank @cyrrusmreadings @omigodbeckylookatherbutt @obx-imagines-07 @lussuria-zephyr @yeahilljustgo @morganoddwalker @junisfics @trash-can-kristin @hippyexplosions @June549 @canibeoneofthepogues @poguecalum @jordansconnors @hoe4jj @kylie-winchester-novak @girls-breaking-hearts @bqbyl0n @kiillakay @Thewintermarvel33 @marylanddgirly @cakesbabylon @thesweetlifeoflaney @lovegroves @solllaris @wunderbaerchensahnehaeupchen @whoeverineedtobe @croissantpants @snflowerr @emdavis2634 @starswin @summerkaulitz @halpertstuna @natalie-03 @seaweedthewhale @poguesforlife13 @girlwiththerubyslippers @harryswigss @hotel-colson @summerkaulitz @ahavatia @honeylipshoneymind @idocarealot @beacnhlls @niya-savage @thesadgirl5455 @eideticcmgg @jooordanharrrop.

#jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #topper thorton x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #topper thorton #obx #outer banks #my writing

2K notes · View notes

nczennie · 3 years

Text

NCT 00′ LINE HOGWARTS DRABBLE

Part of a Hogwarts Collection Hogwarts!AU Pairing: Reader & Haechan Featuring: Hufflepuff!Reader, Slytherin!Haechan Genre: Angst Warnings: Language, Haechan is going through it

Taglist: @flower-lise @heyyyun @sunflowerhae @neocityfile @winc1ty @imgettinlocoloco @ashkuuuu @marklexleaf

Slytherin!Haechan sits underneath one of the larger trees that surround the water just downhill from the castle, picking at the colorful fallen leaves around him and watching them crunch in his grip. It’s been over a week now since whatever cruel fate decided to out his deepest darkest secret in front of those who he was hiding it from the most.

He’ll never forget when class was dismissed and his best friend rushed out of the classroom in a manner that was so unlike her he stared after her in confusion. His confusion only deepened when her boyfriend and his friend Ravenclaw!Renjun sent him a nasty glare before following her out. Sure he was late once again and didn’t actually get to participate in the group work, but he’s been telling his closest friend about his trouble sleeping and she seemed understanding beforehand.

Haechan turns to look and his other friends still at the table hoping they fill him in. Slytherin!Jaemin is frowning at the boy while Hufflepuff!Jeno tries his best to avoid any eye contact. “Do you know what amortentia is?” Jaemin asks, moving slowly to gather his supplies. Haechan furrows his eyebrows in response, “The love potion?” Jaemin hums, “Yeah. It also happens to be what we brewed in class before you showed up. If brewed correctly it attracts people by producing the scent of what they find most attractive, I don’t know if you read the text or not..” Jaemin goes on. Haechan only stays silent unsure of what his friend was getting at, that is until he remembers what he smelt when he first came to class. What he said to his best friend for the whole group to hear.

“Oh-oh my,” Haechan quickly stands from his stool, his body flushed with panic and he swears the room is spinning. “Fuck, I can’t- this- why.” The boy whines out tears brimming his his eyes, heart dropped to his stomach at the realization of what he’s done.

Jeno frowns at the desperation of his friends voice but was unable to speak, what could he even say that might make anything better? Jaemin bites the inside of his cheek, “If you were here on time you probably would’ve been able to avoid it”.

- - -

That explains why he sits under the tree now during lunchtime rather than joining in at the regular table with his friends. How could he now? Renjun probably hates him for having secretly liking his girlfriend and the Slytherin girl probably loathes that he ruined the friendship. He didn’t want to make it awkward for Jaemin and Jeno while he was at it. That’s not to say his best friend hasn’t tried, cause she has- multiple times. She’s attempted to come and talk to him whether it be between classes or in their common room but Haechan cannot bare to face the girl. Not after what she knows now. That’s why he prefers the presence of this tree now.

Hearing some ruffling of some leaves nearby him, he takes in a small deer cautiously making her way towards him. He makes eye contact with the familiar eyes before breaking, ignoring them almost and turning his gaze towards the water.

Only moments later a girl has replaced the deer and has made her way to sit next to him on the ground. “You’re here early” Haechan says dryly to you, moving to pick up more leaves from the ground. You purse your lips unsure of what to say, not wanting to let him know you’ve seen him here at lunch for the past week instead of in the dining hall and you’ve just got the courage to check on him. “I just saw you and thought I’d say hi,” You mutter out lamely instead. Haechan scoffs beside you, turning to take you in, eyes bright and wide almost exactly identical to when you were in your deer form. He thinks of the irony of you checking in on him now, the stark difference of him usually being the one to check on you for the past couple of months, usually at strange hours of the night.

He suddenly thinks back to the night before the incident, him and you sitting in a similar spot in the wee hours of the morning for hours before he was finally able to go to bed. Yet he was so tired when he got back, he ended up sleeping through his alarm and ran late to his potion class.

“If you were here on time you probably would’ve been able to avoid it” Jaemin’s voice rings through his ear once again.

It was you, it was your fault he was in this position. If he wasn’t with you that night his life would be going on as normal, no one would know his secret and he would still have his friends. Instead all he has is himself and a sixth year animagus sitting next to him with a gaze so sincere all he can feel is pity radiating from it. Something in him snaps. “This is all your fucking fault, you know” he states deeply in a tone so unlike Haechan you visibly back down. “You and your fucking problems, I just had to start helping you out didn’t I.” He scoffs throwing his head back against the tree, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “ If you knew how to act like a real fucking wizard, we wouldn’t be in this situation and you wouldn’t have ruined my fucking life”.

You feel your lips quiver at his rant, real wizard. He knew being muggleborn was one of your greatest insecurities and you thought before he was understanding and willing to help you. But now you know how he really feels.

Quickly getting up you turn to run, your body automatically turning into it’s deer form almost as if you didn’t have to ask it as you make a run for the trees ahead. Leaving Haechan now truly and completely alone.

��️ previous --- next ☁️

#mine #hw fic #haechan #donghyuck #haechan fanfic #haechan angst #haechan one shot #haechan drabble #haechan au #nct #nct dream #nct imagine #nct drabble #nct fanfic #nct au #kpop au

106 notes · View notes

mandospace · 3 years

Text

Cuun aliit morut'yc (Din Djarin x Reader)

Request: hi heard your requests are open and I was wondering if I could request mando x reader ? Maybe reader is having a nightmare and calls out for him or something ? Thank you 💕✨

Requested By: @theichabbieclub

Word Count: 1,873

Warnings: Violence, sligh swearing, racism/microaggression??(Gideon is an ass, you’ll see what I mean), nightmares, fluff.

A/N: It has been so long since I’ve posted anything, and I am so sorry for that. College has been kicking my butt recently since it is my last semester and there is just not enough time in the day for me to get everything done. Also sorry that it’s so short and being posted so late. Anyways, I hope you like it and my requests are open! Or you can also just drop by to say hello :)

MASTERLIST

You had to find them.

Adrenaline was pumping through your veins, pushing your legs to move faster down the dark corridor. At every door you slammed on the breaks, flung it open, and scanned the room for your missing family. With every empty room, the feeling of dread settled deeper.

“No, no, no,” you repeat to yourself, flinging open another door. Empty. Feet scrambled to the next one. Empty, again. They had to be here, right? Logic and reason told you that they had to be here, somewhere, in this giant starship. Your family hidden from you.

Another door, another empty room. Dread soon replaced the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins. It was like you could feel it’s icy grip on you, freezing every cell in your body. Your heart beat faster in your chest, trying to keep the icy tendrils at bay. It was no use, they were gone— gone from you forever and there was nothing that you could do about it.

Just as you were about to accept your lonely fate and let the numbness set in, you heard it— a small, tiny giggle. Immediately your head snapped up and to the left. You knew that laugh, that giggle— it was one you heard from your adopted son every time you played hide and seek with him.

Your boots scrambled for purchase on the shiny waxed floor and you chased after the sound. With every turn you could hear it getting louder— more full and heartier. Tears started to wet the corner of your eyes at the idea that you almost found him— your ad’ika.

The laughter was coming from behind a black door, identical to the others. It finally slid open and you saw him— a little green thing dressed in his brown sack. The bottom was torn and one of his little feet was sticking out of it— you and Din had sewn it together to protect his feet once he started walking. Your heart tugged at the memory. The tears began to flow freely.

“Oh, ad’ika,” you breathed out in relief. You fell to your knees to scoop up the little bean but he seemed to disappear right under your fingertips— like a mirage or a hologram. Confusion replaced the relief you once felt.

A ‘tsk-ing’ sounded from behind you and you spun around on your knees. From the shadows emerged Moff Gideon, holding your son in his arms. Grogu had small handcuffs around his tiny wrists and a muzzle over his small mouth. His ears dropped in sadness.

“Let go of him!” the snarl ripped through your chest and before you could lunge out at him, four stormtroopers had their blasters trained on you.

“Now, is that any way to address your superior?” Gideon smirked down at you, stepping further into the dim light of the room.

“You’re not my superior. You are the scum of the galaxy. You aren’t even worth bantha shit.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled patronizingly at you. “You really should watch your mouth, girl. Especially since I have your son and Mandalorian.”

The mention of Din must have made you react or something because shortly after Gideon was back to laughing at you. The stormtroopers moved in on you, blasters trained at your head while the door slid open. Another trooper dragged something behind him, and to your shock and horror you realized the thing he was dragging was Din’s limp body.

“Mand—” before the words even fully left your mouth a trooper was swinging the back of his hand towards your face, backhanding you. Blood filled your mouth.

Din laid in a heap of beskar, unmoving and lifeless. Your eyes searched his form for any type of injury. He was barely breathing— his chest only raising slightly. You turned back to Gideon.

“What did you do to him?”

“You should be more worried about what I will do to him than what I already have done, girl,” Gideon stepped closer to Din’s unconscious body, giving him a swift kick to the ribs. A horrible crunching sound reverberated through the room.

“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” tears flowed past your cheeks. “Please.”

Gideon just smiled ruefully at you while he knelt down next to Din’s limp body. He leaned in close to his helmeted face. “Did you hear that, Mando? Your girl is begging me to not hurt you. Should I listen to her?”

“Please.”

“Okay, then,” Gideon stood up but not before nudging Din’s helmet with his boot. “Maybe she’d prefer if I hurt your child?”

“NO!” the cry was ripped from your chest. Gideon had grabbed Grogu by the back of his sack and gave him a shake. His small whimpers and big eyes broke your heart into a million pieces. “Please, no. Please, do something to me instead. Don’t hurt my family, please.”

“Interesting proposition, but no.” Gideon tossed Grogu to the ground next to his father. You went to move towards them but was met with blasters poking your back. “Why would I hurt you— physically, at least— when I can hurt my most hated adversary?”

Immediately the blasters that were trained on you moved to Din. “No, please, no!”

“It’s a package deal for me, it really is,” Gideon sauntered towards you, crouching on his haunches. His gloved hand gripped your jaw and forced you to look him in the eyes. “I first will kill the child that turned out to be a waste of my efforts. Then, as you are sobbing over your dead child, I kill Mando as he watches his— what do you people call it? Riduur?” the Mando’a wraps distastefully around his tongue. “Well, whatever it is— I kill him in a merciful act to put him out of his misery. And then that leaves you, whom I will drop off on some desolate moon to live out the rest of your days knowing you couldn’t have done a damn thing to change the outcome.”

Your eyes widened in horror at his plan. “You’re a monster!”

“No, girl,” Gideon stood. “I’m Empire.”

He motioned with his hands and suddenly all of the blasters were trained on your son.

“NO!” your cries tumbled past your lips and onto deaf ears. “Please, no! Mando, wake up! Mando!”

“Say goodbye to your family.”

The remaining troopers grabbed you by the arms and forced you to watch what was about to happen. You struggled in their grasp but it was no use. “Mando! D-Din! Din, wake up! Din! DIN!”

Time slowed down and a single red plasma beam streaked towards your son. “DIN!”

“Cyare, wake up.”

You felt someone shaking you but you were still frozen in place, watching your life be destroyed.

“Cyar’ika, please,” Din’s voice seemed to be coming from behind you, but that made no sense— he was currently on the floor in front of you, motionless. “Come back to me.”

It was those four words that pulled you from your nightmare. Eyes flying open, you were met with the dark interior of the ship, not the Imperial starship you thought you were on. Your breaths came quickly and your heart raced. You searched the area for Din and gasped when you felt his warm touch on your arm.

“Din,” you cried and flung your arms around his neck. He immediately pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. The cold beskar and the warmth of his exposed neck grounded you— he was still dressed from the day’s earlier hunt, sans his glove and helmet. His scent enveloped you and the feeling of his tousled locks under your fingertips brought you back to reality.

“Are you alright?” he pressed his lips to your hairline and rubbed soothing circles into your back. When you shook your head and buried your face further into his neck, he picked up his motions. “Shhhh, it's okay. I have you. I’m here.”

You hadn’t noticed but you began to shake violently in Din’s arms as the sobs wracked through your body. Din just held you tighter, pressed kisses to your forehead, and whispered soothing Mando’a in your ear.

After you had calmed down a bit, you pulled back from Din who’s neck and cowl was now soaked with your tears. His brown eyes searched yours and his warm palm cupped your cheek, his thumb lightly grazing your cheekbone. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You didn’t want to talk about ‘it’ in fear that you would break down at the memory of your son being shot. Your son!

“Din, where’s Grogu?” your voice came out high and panicked. You could feel the anxiety gripping your heart.

“He’s in his pram, sleeping,” both of his hands were cupping your face now. His forehead dropped to yours in a Keldabe kiss. “He’s fine, he’s safe. I’m safe. You’re safe. Our aliit is safe.”

“I—I need to see him,” your words still held a sense of panic. “Hold him.”

“Of course, Cyare,” Din pressed his lips to yours briefly— reassuring you that he would be right back. When he returned with a grumpy looking frog in his arms— not happy that he was woken from his sleep— the tears streaming down your face were no longer from sorrow but joy.

“Oh, my ad’ika!” you reached out for your son and took him from his father’s arms. At seeing his mother, Grogu let out a small chirp of happiness. You held him tightly to your chest and placed kisses all over his wrinkly green forehead. Grogu must have sensed your distress because he started to pat your cheek with his tiny hand.

Din took his place next to you and pulled you back onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping tightly around his family. Grogu curled into your chest and you curled into Din’s.

“We’re safe, ner riduur,” his warm lips pressed against your forehead. “Cuun aliit morut'yc.”

“I was so scared, Din,” you whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your sleeping child’s head. You met Din’s eyes. “It was awful.”

“I know, Cyare,” he resumed rubbing soothing circles into your back. “You were calling out for me in your sleep, screaming my name. You only do that when it’s really bad.”

“Oh,” this was news to you. You never knew that you talked in your sleep. “Sorry.”

“No, do not be sorry, Riduur,” Din grabbed your chin and tilted your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I will always be there for you when you need me. Remember our vows? ‘Mhi me'dinui an— we will share all.’ That includes sharing your fears and sorrows. You don’t have to face them alone, Riduur.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Din.”

The smallest smile formed on his lips. He would never tire of hearing you say that. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

He leaned in and captured your lips in a soft kiss— one that said everything left unspoken. How Din would always be there for you. How he would protect you and your small clan of three. How he would fight till his dying breath to keep you safe and happy. You were his family, his aliit, and no amount of bad dreams would take that away from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MANDO’A TRANSLATIONS:

Cyare = beloved

Cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart

Riduur = partner, spouse, husband, wife

Ner riduur = my partner, spouse, husband, wife

Ad’ika = little one, son, daughter

Aliit = family

Cuun aliit morut'yc = our family is safe

Mhi me'dinui an = we will share all; a part of the Mandalorian marriage vows

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = I love you

247 notes · View notes

slashedthroughtheheart · 3 years

Text

Waiting for the right one

It had been 3 months since you first arrived in this place. You’d tried your hand at learning how to be a proper survivor at first before you’d truly known how the place operated. Before you knew that the survivors could leave the campfire.

You’d seen Nea sneak off when no one was looking. You’d been fairly quiet, trying to figure out where exactly you’d end up in this social hierarchy. Your nose wrinkled whenever one of these useless alpha’s tried to get closer to you while asking their invasive questions.

It was no secret that heats and ruts still happened. There was only a few omegas in the entity’s realm, and almost all of them were survivors. There was that one girl that ran with Legion that smelled vaguely like an omega, but there was talk that maybe she was a rare ometa. A hybrid of beta and omega. Granted, no one could get close, the other 3 Legion members always nearby and quickly closed ranks whenever anyone, killer or survivor alike, got too close for comfort.

They were a tight knit pack, it seemed.

When you’d arrived, you had expected a few of the girls to be omegas because of their size. You’d thought for sure the girl who introduced herself as Feng Min was going to be an omega, but only the pleasant scent of a beta washed over you when she came close to pat your shoulder after you appeared in the fog close to the campfire.

Over those first few hours, you found out that out of all the survivors, there was only 3 other omegas besides you. Nea was one, but her thinness had made you think beta at first. But you guessed she had a hard life before coming here, and being here was also hard, so there was no time to build up the softness that you’d always associated with omegas.

The one girl you’d been so sure would be an omega, Jane, had surprised you by being an alpha. She wore a smart, but slightly dirty, business suit. She looked very chic and savvy, and her hips and chest had made you think she was for sure going to be an omega. But you should have known better when she almost swaggered over to you with Feng Min to introduce herself, and then you to the rest of the people around the campfire.

You took a quick headcount, seeing how many people you were now lost with. You came up with 21 besides you, and figured that was that. So when you’d been halfway through the name introductions, with Feng sticking to one side of you, releasing calming beta pheromones to help ease your discomfort at not knowing where you’d been taken to, you were surprised when 4 more people walked out of the fog.

“Ah, and here’s our fearless leader! Dwight, we’ve got a new girl! An omega too! Careful, or she might just take yer spot.” Ace, a rather boisterous but slimy alpha smacked the one man who’d returned with the group of girls.

He had glasses, and kinda short dark hair. He seemed to be in office attire, and he screamed nervous omega as he wrung his hands in front of himself as Ace manhandled him over to where you stood.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the overwhelming scent of anxious omega wafted in the air. He’d managed to not stutter when he said a polite hello while rubbing the back of his neck, eyes not making it all the way to you, instead staring off to the side by your shoulder.

You’d simply nodded, unsure of what was going on, or why an omega was the ‘leader’ of this.. pack? You’d tried to listen to that first 5 minute explanation from a fast talking Feng, telling you they were all survivors and that they went into trials against killers and had to escape over and over again. You really did. You didn’t understand what they meant. Why were they just sitting around a campfire instead of trying to escape if there were killers loose?

You’d always been a bit different for an omega, making it later in life and only ever taking beta friends as help during your heats, never mating to an alpha. None of them ever managed to impress you, and you only agreed to the help from your beta friends because they promised not to catch feelings or try to push you into anything. They knew you wanted an alpha, and they knew how picky you were. They just didn’t like you suffering for so long through your heats with no relief in sight.

You were grateful to them, truly. It was treated as a necessary biological function by you, one that was annoying as hell when you just couldn’t find the right alpha for yourself.

Plenty had tried, coming into your personal space just oozing horny pheromones and trying to sway you that way. And the response was always the same. A very rankled omega telling them to piss off before they got authorities involved.

And no matter how interested an alpha was, the sheer lack of omegas in more recent decades gave them a lot more protection. If an omega didn’t want an alpha’s advances, the authorities as well as majority populace would stand behind the omega.

And just one time was all it took. One time an alpha kept pushing after you’d refused him.

He’d smelled almost sour to you from the get go. Skeevy through and through. He’d gone so far as to try and box you in against the wall closest to you, arm going up above your head as he leaned down to leer at you, grin lascivious as he eyed you.

Your friends had insisted on the defense lessons, knowing you were so picky about alphas and that some were just too dense for your own good.

Something in you snapped.

Red overtook you. Fury at the audacity of this alpha overstepping his bounds. Rage that no alpha had approached you properly. Shown you they were good enough to be your alpha. Shown you they could take care of you properly. None were strong enough, in command enough, sure enough of themselves without having to throw their scent around. It wasn’t them that was their strength. They always relied on their scent alone. None walked like it was them before their scent that held the power.

He wasn’t good enough, and he wasn’t taking the no gracefully.

You shook, hands balling into fists while the white hot fury spread from your breastbone out to every extremity. Every pore of your body filled with your indignity at your treatment. At the incompetence of all the alphas you’d ever met.

You almost blacked out during the interaction, but instead you almost watched yourself go through the encounter as if in a trance and looking back on a memory.

The crunch of his nose had been satisfying. His cry of pain fueled you, pushed you forward and let you know that you could do this. You were stronger than he thought. Smarter. More determined.

He choked with the hit to his throat, staggering away from you and almost falling to the side, trying to get away from your rain of fury.

When you had taken the first step to follow him, to take out your rage of years of mediocre alphas trying to posture you into things you didn’t want, the fog had rolled in out of nowhere. It had come from behind, billowing forward around your legs and going up to engulf all of you as you took your second step, so focused on getting to the prone alpha scrambling away from you in fear that you didn’t notice until the fog reached your shoulders.

And in your trance, you didn’t panic when the fog fully swallowed you up.

The cloying darkness seemed to last for so long, long enough that your anger dissipated and you were left confused and slightly anxious as the world seemed to stop existing, and you were lost to this void of roiling blackness. It was so dark, but there still seemed to be movement like smoke moving lazily about.

You couldn’t tell when or if you blinked or closed your eyes. All senses were shockingly both over and under stimulated. The silence deafening. The only scent your own slow rising panic stinging your nose. Your hands reached out, you think, but you could not see them. You could not feel anything unless you tried to grab yourself. And even then, it felt muted, like you were dreaming but not.

We’re you walking somewhere? You think you were telling your legs to move, but without being able to see, and feeling so weightless, you couldn’t be sure.

It felt like both a lot and no time at all had passed when you suddenly felt solid ground under your feet.

You wobbled a bit, disoriented by the sudden information reaching your brain. You couldn’t see even when your feet were touching ground. You held your hands out, trying to find anything, and jumped a little when your hand connected with something hard and rough. It scraped at your hand, causing you to grunt at the small discomfort.

You realized your hearing was back. You hadn’t been able to even hear your own breathing, and you swore you called out while in that darkness that had clung to every part of you just earlier.

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed at first, shut tight against the darkness you had been afraid of.

“Hey! There’s a girl!” a higher feminine voice startled you into opening your eyes. People, you weren’t alone anymore. Maybe they could help you.

You were slightly dizzy from the transition of not being able to see even when your eyes were open, floating in the abyss that had seemed to douse all your senses.

What you had scraped your hand on was a thick tree trunk off to your left just a bit, visible to you despite the gloom pressing from all around. Compared to what you just experienced, it was bright out.

And that’s how you came to the entity’s realm. Confused and scared after finally snapping and attacking an alpha that tried to put his hands on you.

You’d been pulled towards the campfire, sat on a log between the soothing beta Feng and the other omega besides Dwight that had come from the fog. Her name was Cheryl and she did her best to help Feng try to calm your rattled nerves.

Everyone at least sympathized with you on being scared after first coming out of the fog. For some, that meant they tried to calm you down like the two had been by your side around the campfire. For others, the nicety ran out at giving you space your first day of being there.

Ace had been the first to try to proposition you, saying in such a weaselly way that you smelled mighty fine and the two of you would make quite the pair.

Your immediate refusal and disgusted face had been the turning point in his attitude towards you. While he wasn’t outwardly hostile towards you, you found yourself having to rely on the other 2 survivors to unhook you if you were caught when you went into trials with him.

He went to acting like you didn’t even exist around the fire whenever the both of you weren’t in trial. Everyone pretended not to notice, and some of the more gentle survivors would offer you a wincing smile whenever you were paired with him in trials.

After that first encounter with him, the others noted you withdrew in on yourself a lot, not even wanting Feng or Cheryl to offer their comfort or presence to you.

You’d retreated from the logs after the first trial that Ace had left you to die on hook after you’d been caught unaware by a silent man with a white mask. You were told after regenerating near the campfire that the killer you’d faced was known as the Shape, but everyone referred to him as Michael Myers, or in David’s case ‘Big silent bastard’.

And while David had never tried to approach you, you knew without a doubt he was an alpha that’s power came from his scent and not himself, despite professing a brawling background. Sure, someone could be a fighter. But did they have power all their own? David did not. None of the alphas present did, in your opinion.

And the slow understanding you gained of your situation opened your eyes to the survivor alphas being absolutely weak and pathetic in your eyes. They’d given in to being a pawn, a plaything for the entity and the killers alike. While David was the closest to being the least useless alpha, your nose still wrinkled at his use of scent to try to ward off the beta killers and to posture at the alpha ones.

The only survivors you truly respected, truly thought were worth your time to talk to were Laurie and Yui. Laurie taught you after a while how to use a shard of glass you could keep tucked somewhere on your person to stun the killers into dropping you if they’d managed to grab you.

Yui taught you how to lift a pallet after dropping it. The words ‘Hit ‘em with everything you got, then do it again.’ resonated with you so strongly, that even if it wasn’t on the same level as stabbing your captor like Laurie, it still made her stand out compared to the rest of the survivors who were barely more than worms, fearfully eking out an existence around the campfire.

It felt like they were the only ones not just struggling for their lives like everyone else, but truly fighting back.

And if Elodie wasn’t so complacent in being sneaky, her showing you how to pull a pallet down while being carried by the killer would have put her in the pool of respectable survivors.

In your first two months, you learned very little outside of what the killers were called and how they could hurt and kill you in matches.

You noticed only whenever they had managed to catch you if the killer was an alpha or a beta.

And in those first two months, you had thought you’d met all the killers in trials.

There had been another new girl, a beta, right before you. Her name was Yun-Jin, and she kept her distance from everyone just like you did, but you had a feeling it was for different reasons than your own. She looked at everyone with a shrewdness in her expression. Like she knew something no one else did, and she knew how to use the information she had.

You had no doubt she’d sacrifice any single survivor there if it meant saving her own hide. And while self-preservation was an understandable thing, you didn’t agree with the methods of stepping on someone else to do it.

Sure, you held disdain for any of the alphas in the group, but you don’t think you’d go out of your way to use them if it meant your own safety. You may have purposefully blocked Ace once when he’d wanted to keep running and go through a building while in a chase with the Killer, but you’d played it off as being scared and thought the heartbeat had been coming from somewhere else.

No one said anything about it, but some of the survivors were a bit more wary of being near you in trials after that. They couldn’t prove you’d done it on purpose, and Ace hadn’t said anything besides ‘You blocked me in that last trial and it got me caught.’ It seems he had accepted your lie, or deemed it not worth fighting over. Maybe he was scared if he pushed the issue, you’d bring up how he purposefully let you die on hook that one time, and how he ignored you hooked every match now.

Either way, you drifted further and further from the group. It only took a week before you stopped sitting on the logs around the campfire after the Ace incident. Standing in the close treeline around the fire.

And then it went further, you retreated farther from the comforting light. Taking solace in the solitude while sitting at the base of a tree a good 30 or 40 feet from the campfire. It seemed that for the most part, no one ventured quite as far as you did.

Until you saw Nea sneak away.

And she went even further than you.

You’d followed just a bit, curious at how far she’d go, so you tried to keep a line of sight on her.

And as you maneuvered to get line of sight, you crossed path with the trail of scent she left behind. It was stronger than normal, and you had a realization that she was sneaking away because she was going into heat.

You wondered for a moment if she was just going to suffer out in the woods alone instead of turning to one of the alphas or betas in camp. But then, as you continued to follow at a good distance, you noticed the forest thinning out, and the walls of one of the realms come into sight.

Flabbergasted that the realms you did trials in were able to be gotten to from the campfire, you stood out in the open amidst the thinned out trees, just staring at the walls with a growing sense of agitation.

Why had no one told you that you could truly leave the campfire?

Surely Nea wasn’t the only one who knew this information. Someone else, anyone else, had to have noticed her absence from the campfire and have done just as you had. There’s no way at least one other person didn’t know.

You don’t know why this upset you, but it did.

And now you faced a predicament. You wanted to keep following all the way into the realm. You weren’t sure which place it was, but you wanted to know. You wanted to see. You wanted to know if all the realms could be found.

The only thing that had you hesitating was running into Nea, or one of the killers. You didn’t know if Nea was actually allowed to be here, considering she did sneak away in the first place. So you didn’t know if you were allowed. What if the killers could hurt you outside of the trials too? What if entering their realms gave them power over you?

Indecision gripped you for a few long moments, curiosity warring with it inside your mind.

You stood, one foot slightly lifted off the ground as if to take a step back towards the campfire, but after finally throwing caution to the wind, you turned back towards the entrance of the realm, boldly striding in.

If you weren’t meant to be there, it was probably better to act like you weren’t sneaking around and then plead ignorance than be caught sneaking.

It was a slim chance at safety, but you reasoned with yourself that the survivors would be way more scared around the campfire if the killers could hurt you outside of the trials.

So you walked in like you owned the place. Like you were meant to be there.

And upon entering Glenvale, you were surprised that it looked different than when you were here in a trial.

None of the buzzards were picking at long dead flesh. No hooks to be seen.

In fact, it’s like it was what you assumed the actual Glenvale looked like in real life and not the horrific replica that you traipsed around in during trials.

There even seemed to be a sense of warmth to the area, as if it was only just reaching sunset. It was nothing like the gloom hanging around campfire.

You were immediately drawn to it, furious that this existed and you hadn’t know about it until just now. And even if you weren’t supposed to be here, even if some killer came out and told you off for being here, you’d tell them off right back and demand to be let in. You didn’t want to sit with those worms content to be around a measly little campfire when there was this right here.

You looked around, sizing up all the restored buildings around you. You figured if the trials were anything to go by, the saloon would probably be where anyone would be.

And you had questions you wanted answered. Either by Nea, or whoever else might be here.

And so you walked forward, with even more purpose and determination in your step now. You could hear from the street that there was life inside of the saloon. Couldn’t see anyone or anything really from it, but you could hear the low murmur that indicated chatting. That could be someone having caught Nea, but you doubted it from the relaxed tone of it.

You couldn’t hear much until you almost made it to the steps. Once you finally made it to the front of the saloon, looking up the steps and to the swinging doors, you listened out to try to figure out who was talking.

The voices weren’t familiar in the slightest, and there was at least 3 distinct male voices from what you could tell. One was high and nasally, another a bit lower, and the last was hardly anything more than bass.

You didn’t hear Nea, which did make your anxiety kick up just a bit. But before you could second guess yourself and talk yourself out of going in, you marched up the steps, determined to get answers.

Although, your anxiety did have you more gingerly opening just one of the swinging doors rather than making a loud entrance by bursting in through both.

And you were glad for it, because even with your much quieter entrance, the conversation inside still died as all eyes in the saloon landed on you and stared.

Your nerve was tested, as you looked back at a room just absolutely full of killers. Almost every table without an open chair.

It felt like forever, the quiet staring match lasting so long in your head even though it was really only a few seconds before you steeled your resolve with a small breath in before walking further forward.

“I have some questions. First, why the fuck did no one tell me these places existed outside of trials?” At your words and attitude, a few of the killers blinked and then looked around at each other. One in particular, one of the alpha ones you’d gone head to head with a few times since coming here, stood.

“Hey now little lady, ain’t no reason to get cross with us. Ain’t like we can come on over to your cozy little campfire and just chat you up.” At this, one of the smaller killers pipes in, the one with the garish mask and dark clothes. “Not that we didn’t wanna, what with you being one fine piece of ass.”

The big guy who’d stood up, the one you’d been told was the Trapper, grunted at the interruption and turned his head slightly and barked out a harsh “Danny.” sufficiently cowing the smaller man, who held his hands up and went “Woah, just giving the girl a compliment, jeez.”

At his mutterings, the Trapper let out another grunt, this one lower and even more of a warning than his word had been.

At this, the other folded his arms, making a ‘tch’ noise before grumbling out a barely audible “Fine, whatever.”

You prickled at both what the big guy and the smaller guy said. “Cozy? That’s what you wanna call that dreary little shithole?” Irritation at the whole situation making you a lot more angry than you’d been when first entering, making your attitude flare up.

You watched while the trapper reached up, hand slipping under his mask he still wore, like he was wiping at his face exasperatedly.

“Listen, we don’t want no trouble with you, alright? What are your other questions you had? You got the answer to your first one, so what else can I answer for ya, little survivor?” He crossed his arms, but kept his whole body relaxed like he was purposefully trying to appear non-threatening despite his obvious irritation.

You crossed your own arms, foot tapping, showing your own frustration.

“Well, why do you all get to be here, but survivors don’t?”

At this he lets out a low chuckle, the irritation bleeding away a bit. “Well, you’re standing here, ain’t cha?”

This caught you off guard a bit. So you were allowed to be here?

You ventured into the next question a bit more cautiously. “Where’s Nea?”

It wasn’t the exact question you’d wanted to ask, but if survivors were allowed to be here, then Nea was here while they knew about it. Probably seeking relief for her heat with one of the killers, since so many of them were gathered here.

This one seemed to throw the big man off though. “She ain’t here. Ain’t been by at all, s’far as I know. Did you follow her here then? Is that how you found this place?”

You gave a small nod. “She snuck away from the campfire, don’t blame her. Most everyone there is a pathetic alpha or a scared beta. I thought she’d come in here, considering…” you stopped talking as you realized maybe it wasn’t a good idea to reveal Nea was going into heat to the killers who didn’t know she had come here.

“Considering?” He prompted you after you trailed off, and you gestured vaguely. “Considering this is like… the main building?” You hoped that would be enough to cover your blunder, but somehow doubted it.

He stood still for a moment more, before letting his arms fall to his sides. “Well, she ain’t been through here in a while, maybe she came to meet up with someone or to just hide away in one of the outer buildings. Ain’t my business what she does as long as it doesn’t hurt one of mine.”

You almost snorted at that thought, but managed to just make a derisive face instead. “Right, because we could totally hurt one of you if given the chance. Totally.”

Thankfully your snark garnered you a laugh from the big man while the rest of the saloon slowly picked up their forgotten conversations, everyone seemingly able to pick up the atmosphere all at the same time.

“More so than you think, little survivor.” He turned, while doing a follow motion as he went back to the table he’d stood up from.

“C’mon, might as well get to know ya, since I get the feeling you’re gonna be underfoot from here on out.”

And so the last month went by, you getting to know and spend more time with most of the killers. They generally tolerated your presence, some more welcoming than others. The Trapper, who’d introduced himself as Evan, was probably the most amiable towards you.

He didn’t step over any boundaries, but it also seemed he showed no true interest in you. Part of you was disappointed, since he seemed to be the only alpha in attendance that was anywhere close to interesting to you. But the other part knew that if he wasn’t interested, then he wasn’t what you really wanted anyways.

Danny, who you had known as Ghostface, had tried to proposition you when Evan had gotten up to go into a trial, but you quickly turned him down, trying your best not to sneer at him now that the only killer you had felt for sure would protect you was gone.

He had accepted your refusal with a bit more grace than you expected, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d target you in trials for it like Ace ignored you for the refusal you’d given him.

And at your swift refusal of Danny, most the killers assumed you just weren’t interested period, thankfully.

You went on doing trials day in and day out, not that there ever seemed to be a visual passage of time. The entity seemed pleased with your efforts, rewarding you with new clothes here and there, and gifting you tools to use in the trials that would make them just a bit easier.

Now that you’d gotten to spend some time with the killers, you’d quietly learned some of their quirks. Your observation skills were fairly good after a lifetime of sizing up alphas who approached you.

You escaped trials more often than not, currying the entities favor easily and earning you a small reputation of being a slippery survivor among both groups.

And just as you resigned yourself to forever being alone, knowing that escaping the entities clutches was nigh impossible, you finally got placed in a trial with the killer you’d only heard about from the survivors at this point. You only knew a vague physical description of a flashy male killer that was all about showmanship.

He’d yet to show up to the saloon in your time of visiting it. You wondered if it was just always missing him when you came around, or if he just didn’t hang around with anyone else.

The trial started off easy enough, you started solo near a gen that had a chest nearby, gaining a rather nice toolbox that helped you finish off the first gen quickly before anyone even got hurt.

You strained your hearing as you carefully picked your way through the realm to the next gen you could see. So far there hadn’t been a heartbeat that you could hear and you wondered if you were against Myers or maybe even Danny.

And then you heard someone scream while going down on the other side of the map, and you couldn’t tell from that if it was one of the silent killers or not.

You knew it wasn’t plague, pig, or Freddy because you hadn’t run into any fountains or trap removal spots, and you hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

You crouched in front of your generator, wondering where anyone was. You had seen where the person downed was hung, but they got unhooked pretty quickly. Was everyone else on that side of the realm?

You almost blew your gen when who you assumed to be the savior of the last hooked person was downed without even being hit before, and you felt dread.

The music for a tier 3 Myers hadn’t played, and you hadn’t felt like it was Danny, so who else could down someone without hitting them?

No totems had been cleansed, so it wasn’t haunted grounds. They hadn’t gotten pulled off a gen or out of a locker.

As you thought harder about who it could be, you felt your palms sweating, forcing you to pay extra attention to the gen in front of you, almost missing the last person getting instant downed while the killer was still carrying someone.

You finished your gen just as the second person got hooked, and you felt a moment of fear root you to the spot as you debated trying to go for the unhook save.

There was no screaming before the downs, so it wasn’t clown throwing his bottles at people.

As you contemplated your next move, inching along an outcropping and trying to get line of sight on the hook, and maybe see where the killer was, Feng popped up next to you, holding in her sounds of pain well enough that you hadn’t even heard her approach.

You set about patching her up, a bit rattled from the knowledge that you really didn’t know who it was, and you didn’t feel safe enough to ask out loud who it was to Feng.

She nodded at you, a thanks for the heal as she ran off in the opposite direction of the hooked survivor. Looks like it was up to you, or maybe the fourth survivor, but they were still hurt.

You felt on edge, the back of your scalp itching like you were being watched but you couldn’t spot the killer or even hear the heartbeat that let you know if they were close or not.

It was Kate on the hook, already struggling with the entity. You felt a pang of guilt, realizing you might have gotten to her sooner if you hadn’t froze early by your finished gen.

Just as you reached up, pulling her off completely, you felt a sting on your side.

Letting out a small whine as you looked in the direction of whatever was thrown your way, and making eye contact with a tall man in a yellow coat, who was grinning as he held another little throwing knife. He was still a good distance away, but you could have sworn you saw him wink at you before throwing the next knife that hit your shoulder.

Kate and you quickly scattered, and you tried to put things in between you and the killer, feeling another sting every 4 or 5 seconds, not giving you a moments reprieve.

Just as you reached the building, you felt a knife hit a particularly tender spot, making you cry out and almost double over before you sprinted as far away as you could get, going deep into the building, hoping the basement was at the killer shack this trial.

You felt another sting hit your shoulder, and you really didn’t have the time to try to check behind you as you desperately ran through the building, trying to duck and weave, not knowing exactly where he was coming from in your panic to escape him.

You could hear him now, and the heartbeat that always kicked up around killers. You could never tell if it was your own heart the entity made to beat so intensely, or if it was the killers themselves, and it was a projection.

At this point, you really didn’t ask questions, since it seemed no one really had the answers to those ones.

You felt the fear kick up even more as he seemed to laugh in amusement at your struggles. You managed to get out the other side of the building, running into a spooked Claudette as you vaulted out of the building. She was still bleeding from getting unhooked earlier and you realized she must have been the first person to be hooked.

After the first moment of shock, you both split apart as you heard the ting of a blade barely missing you and hitting the place right above your head.

You made a mad dash to the left, leaving Claudette to run off to the right as you heard the killer vault the window smoothly. You turned the corner, hoping that being out of sight would make him run a different way but you wouldn’t hold your breath.

A swift feeling of guilt hit you as you hobbled away from the building, hearing the heartbeat fade and you knew he had gone for Claudette instead of you.

And your suspicions were confirmed when you heard her scream and saw her go down inside the building. You hadn’t been paying attention as you ran through, more concerned about avoiding those awful knives, so you felt your dread building as you waited to see where he would hook Claudette, hoping the basement wasn’t in the main building.

You crouched behind a silent generator, immediately getting to work on coaxing it to life as your fears were confirmed. You could see the outline of Claudette being hooked in the basement of the building, a sour taste filling your mouth at that.

She was struggling, but you were hurt. Going into the basement without getting healed was asking to have two hooked instead.

You carefully worked on the gen, keeping both an eye and an ear out for the killer, almost slipping when another gen got completed on the other side of the building, drawing the killers attention away from where you were for sure.

And just after the gen finished, you head the scream of Feng going down on first hit again. How was he doing that? His knives hurt, but it took a long time before he even managed to really hurt you with them. The sheer adrenaline of trying to survive in the trial made it so you brushed off most the hits until it had just been too many.

The sour taste in your mouth grew as Kate’s scream followed almost immediately after, and suddenly you were the only standing survivor.

You felt remorse for not taking the killers attention when you watched Claudette be taken by the entity from the basement just as you started towards the building again.

You had to at least try to get Feng or Kate up, you couldn’t let them die like you’d let Claudette die.

You tried you hardest not to cry out as you made it through the building towards where you could see Kate still on the ground, trying not to bleed out. You couldn’t quite stop the whimpers, but you did manage to make it to her undetected so far.

You could hear the heartbeat, but it was faint. Poor Feng was being taken away from the building. You didn’t have to touch Kate much before getting her up, and the moment you pulled her to her feet, she bolted from you. You wanted to call out, to have her let you heal her up before you went on, but she was running in the direction you’d come from instead.

You shook your head slightly, quickly making your way towards Feng, who’d been hooked just as you picked Kate up.

She was holding the entity back, but just barely. You made eye contact with her, and almost cried out when she saw you and then just let go. You’d been coming to get her, you were so close, just behind a rock nearby.

The heartbeat was fading too, why did she give up?

You grit your teeth, upset with yourself for letting two of them down in one match.

Your attention was called back to the building when you heard Kate scream again, watching in horror as she was pulled from a locker by the killer and swiftly carried to the basement, instantly being taken by the entity once hooked.

If you had been quicker earlier, she could have at least held off the entity for a bit, given you a chance to try and save her.

If you had just been quicker, and not so scared of the new killer.

You held in your want to cry out, to lament your failure this trial. You had to try to escape, to find the hatch. You couldn’t let their sacrifices go in vain. You were one of the survivors who always escaped, you had to do this.

You threw caution to the wind, making a quick of a run towards killer shack as you could, hoping that hatch would spawn there like you knew it did often.

You heard his laughter at almost the same time the heartbeat started again.

Fear spiked, gripping your own heart as you felt the first burning sensation of a knife hit your lower back. It wasn’t enough to drop you, but it did hurt.

You couldn’t make yourself run any faster, and there wasn’t many trees or rocks to hide behind in this direction. You felt the hot sting of metal bite into your shoulder then the middle of your back, and one winged by and sliced your cheek. He was throwing quickly, one after the other. Two more hit your back, one hit your upper thigh and another hit your back. He missed two when you almost staggered, going off behind the first rock you’d come into.

You knew the jig was up, you could only dance around the rock with him for so long, feeling a knife hit the front of your shoulder this time as you switched directions, still trying to get away.

The next one would make you go down, you were barely standing as it. You felt the blood drip down from the cut on your cheek, the wounds all over your body screaming for your attention and making it hard to focus on dodging any more.

You hadn’t made anymore eye contact with him ever since the first time when you’d unhooked Kate. Something inside of you was scared at how he’d react to more. He seemed to like being looked at, having gotten more vicious when there was more than one person nearby, when he’d downed Kate and Feng back to back.

You almost tripped, and that was your undoing. Uneven footing made you falter for just a split second, and it was enough for him to clear the side of the rock and land his last knife, burying into the front of your thigh, biting in deep and making you collapse finally.

You fell forward, doing your best to hold yourself up long enough that the fall didn’t dig the knife in deeper before the entity made it disappear from you like it had the others.

You lay there, cursing yourself for fumbling so much through the match, and not just committing to saving the other survivors earlier on.

You heard him almost panting as he approached, a manic giggle leaving him, excited to have finally caught the last of the survivors.

There was no more energy left to even turn your head to look at him, you just laid there, weakly groaning as all the little wounds caught up and really made their presence known.

He stood over you, the heartbeat almost deafening as you waited for him to haul you up and carry you to a hook any moment now.

When he didn’t pick you up for a solid ten seconds, you finally rolled yourself just enough to look up at him. And what you saw both terrified you and sent a thrilling shiver down your spine.

He was staring down at you, as if transfixed by what he saw.

You were still in too much pain to really take much else in, but when he suddenly knelt down over you, hand reaching out to tip your chin up to look at him fully, you gasped.

The rich scent of alpha finally made it to your nose, but you realized even during chases, he hadn’t been pushing any scent out. And he had sounded rather excited. Something was trying to click together inside your brain, but you were a little too out of it and too shocked by his actions to piece the information your brain was trying to put together into one cohesive piece.

He leaned down just a bit, his gaze roving around your face, his thumb and forefinger holding your head still in his hands.

You stayed perfectly still, not sure if it was fear or something else keeping you in place as he examined you closely.

“미인”

In your dazed state, you misheard him. “Hey, I’m not that tiny…” sure, almost all the killers were taller than you, but he didn’t have to say you were mini.

His head cocks to the side, before a boisterous laugh escapes him, startling you. “Ahh, you only speak English then.”

His smile is nothing like the manic grin you’d caught glimpses of during the trial, it’s a bit more at ease. Just a bit though. You could tell there was something lurking beneath the surface.

Maybe if you weren’t so out of it from the blood loss, you might have pulled away from his deepened touch.

“I said miin, which means beautiful.” His grin doesn’t quite reach manic again, but it does change from the mirthful one from earlier to one that was predatory.

He keeps your chin in his grasp for a few moments more as you register what he said, before suddenly hauling you up onto his shoulder and walking off in a direction you couldn’t ascertain from your position and the sudden dizziness from being carried.

All you’re able to do is steady yourself just enough by pressing your hands against his back, but you don’t try to struggle out. Honestly, you’re just too tired to at this point. You’d been bleeding for a while now, and while it had slowed to a sluggish trickle, you’d still lost a lot of blood.

He easily walked along, hardly even slowed down with you on his shoulder. He was humming as he headed towards wherever he was going, arm keeping you securely on his shoulder by wrapping around your lower back.

Just as you were about to muster the courage to ask where this strange alpha was taking you, since you’d seen him pass several hooks on his journey, he was hauling you back over his shoulder, holding you in front of himself for a moment before giving you a grin that sent chills up and down your spine as he let you drop straight into the open hatch.

The last thing you saw before you reappeared at the campfire was his gaze staying steady on you as that grin split his face.

You came to near the logs everyone sat on, still disoriented but instead of blood loss, it was the normal dizziness that came from regenerating from trials.

Even if you were still a bit wobbly, you turned away from the fire and started your way towards the edge of the forest, determined to find that strange killer.

You played the trial over and over in your head again, trying to figure out just what was drawing you to him.

Just as you reached the edge of the forest and it thinned out, you realized he hadn’t been using his scent at all during the trial. You’d barely been able to figure out he was an alpha and only when he had gotten close enough to carry you.

You stopped at the edge, a dawning epiphany hitting you, one your brain had tried to show you in the trial. He was strong… without his scent. Honestly, you didn’t think he’d even used his scent at all during the trial, even when he’d picked you up.

Meanwhile, you were sure you’d probably been subconsciously scenting off in fear. Maybe that’s what had him pausing at the end, when he’d held your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly, before shaking your head. You didn’t know for sure if this alpha was right for you, no need to get ahead of yourself.

But… what was it he’d called you? It meant beautiful. And he hadn’t scented when he said it. Maybe he was different.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head once more. None of this would matter if you couldn’t find him outside of the trials.

So with new purpose, you strode into Glenvale, ready to interrogate whoever you needed to to find the killer.

Your steps were hurried, taking the steps up to the saloon in one small hop, and pushed the doors open obnoxiously, too preoccupied with your own mission to realize how loud it would be.

So when the swinging doors smacked against the wall, it startled everyone, including you.

You barely had time to register that there was only a few people in the saloon before Evan grumbled at you. “What’s got a bee in your bonnet today, brat?”

Stuck in place just inside the door, you looked to him as you mumbled out a soft “Sorry, didn’t mean to open them that hard.”

What drew your attention next was someone standing from the table, hidden by the bulk of Evan until just then.

“Ah, I was just about to ask where I could find you, and here you are.” There was a playfulness to his voice, and his grin mirrored the one he’d been giving you when he’d dropped your through the hatch just a few minutes ago.

He was already walking over towards you, and you were still stuck in place, but instead of it being mortification, it was something else.

You didn’t even smell him, but just seeing him had you staying still.

Maybe you were a bit in over your head, but the possibility that there was finally an alpha that could cross off all your check boxes? It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Your hands clenched and unclenched as you waited for him to reach you.

“Would you join me on a walk?” He was right in front of you now, looking down as you fidgeting in front of him. Why were you nervous? He was just another alpha, you didn’t have anything to worry about. He couldn’t hurt you out of trials, and he could only do so much in trials, so why were you nervous around him?

You looked past him for a moment to see that Evan had turned away. Seems he wasn’t worried about the new killer talking to you, and he was always quick to put himself between you and the more… questionable killers.

So when you met gazes, you gave a tentative nod.

He walked past you, opening the door and standing outside of it, still holding it for you as he looked back watching you walk over to him.

The predatory look was gone, replaced with a lax smile. Like he had fully relaxed. An air of easy going swam around him as you almost meekly exited the building.

You’d never really thought how you would react to finding an alpha who might be good for you. This almost spooked approach was not what you’d expected from yourself.

He didn’t strike up any conversation as you left the realm of Glenvale and wandered farther than you’d ever gone before, passing some other realms you’d not seen outside of trials before.

He did however, pick up a lazy hum of a song. It didn’t seem to have a rhyme or reason to it, nothing you recognized at least.

“So, little omega. How long have you been hiding from me?” His voice startled you out of your own thoughts, and his words made your face flush.

“I… haven’t. We just haven’t been in a trial before now.” You were telling the truth at least, so he shrugged at that.

His hum changed to one of thought instead of song, drawn out a bit before he looked back at you from over his shoulder. “Well, now that we’ve met, don’t go hiding from me~.” The wink he gave you before turning back had you almost faltering, falling just a little bit behind before hurrying a bit to keep up again.

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Was that his way of flirting with you?

Instead of saying anything, you just gave a small nod. He really did have the upper hand here, and you could only hope you hadn’t made a grave mistake following him out of the saloon.

He leads you past all the realms and into the forest on the other side. And just as it feels like he's leading you in circles, you pop out of the treeline in front of a cabin, just sitting in the clearing in front of you like it had been taken right from some magazine about Natural Living For The Rich and Wealthy.

Why was it always the killers getting fancy realms and cabins to stay in but the survivors had to stay around a dingy little campfire without so much as a tent to sleep in?

Your small spike of jealousy was forgotten when he opened the front door, ushering you inside with that same easy going air about him.

He wasn’t even glancing over his shoulder anymore, he just expected you to follow him deeper into his dwelling.

And you did, eyes wide and nose twitching at the sudden increase in his scent. It was old though, just what’s rubbed off on the cabin from him staying in it for upwards of 4 months now.

And you could feel the shift in the atmosphere when he heard your subtle sniff you couldn’t stop yourself from doing.

He casual spun around, leaning against the back of the couch, giving you a once over before that smirk was back.

“Do you like what you see, little omega?” The laugh in his voice sounded almost threatening, but it only sent a thrilling shiver down your spine when his eyes lidded while watching you from where he stood.

“I… It’s a very nice cabin. Shame only you killers get things like this. What I wouldn’t do for a tent at this point. Falling asleep leaned against a tree gets old at some point.” You tried to cover your embarrassment from being caught taking in his scent with your very real envy that the killers got special treatment.

His laugh was a bit unexpected, but it sounded genuine. “You know,” he pushed up from the couch, closing the distance easily, almost looming over you in mere moments, hands in his pockets as he leaned into the wall just beside you “you don’t have to stay at that campfire if you don’t want to…”

There was a suggestion in his tone, words unsaid, but clear on his face. He was leaning just a bit closer now, that signature grin back on his face as he watched you squirm under his intense gaze.

Part of you wanted to play dumb, to say something like ‘Oh, sure. I’ll just go ask Evan for a room in his mansion.’ but the look he was giving you had all your fire from before sizzling out.

Or maybe it was more apt to say it was burning differently now.

The temptation to finally give in to your more submissive instincts was great, but after a life of telling off shitty alphas, you weren’t sure how to go about flirting back with one now that you were here.

Your silence didn’t bother him, it seemed. His grin still in place as he leaned over you.

Every thought flitting through your head as you tried to find the right thing to say left you as he finally reached up to capture your chin, just like he had during the trial earlier.

“That is, if it’s what you want~.”

He was teasing you and also reassuring you. You could figure that much out by the softness with which he held your face.

The closeness was clouding your mind, but you knew that you were interested in his offer.

You faltered under his gaze, but finally found your voice. “I… you’re not scenting off… are you?”

It wasn’t really a question, but more of a realization. He nodded nonetheless, leaning back up just a bit, shrugging.

“Don’t need to.”

His confidence with those three little words sent an electric current through your whole system, leaving your fingers tingling after a small shiver has his eyes narrowing every so slightly, pulling up in a smile as he leans back in.

“But I can, if you ask nicely.”

You don’t even think before the barest whisper of a ‘please’ leaves you, finally giving in to your instincts.

He closed the distance, other hand coming to your hip to pull you closer to him. His face was so close, and the excitement at this new experience was absolutely overriding any thoughts of your past.

And all at once, you were surrounded by his scent. You couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped, but it only seemed to please him.

“That’s it, little omega.” He moved until his mouth was almost pressed against your ear, whispering out a little “Relax a little, I’ll take good care of you.”

He had your head spinning well before that, but when he nuzzled against your neck, taking in his own deep breath, you couldn’t help the little whine that left you.

His rich laugh reverberated through your whole body, sending tingles to all your extremities and lighting a fire low in your belly.

“Sensitive, aren’t we.” You could feel his smile against your skin, his teeth grazing against your scent gland, lighting up all the pleasure centers in your brain and causing a rush of slick to leave your panties an absolute mess as you trembled beneath him.

His grip on your hip tightened, a low rumble leaving him as he appreciated your own scent. “That’s good, it’s gonna be fun with you so responsive.”

You reached out, hands gripping at his open coat. You were dizzy from the rush of all these new feelings. Sure, you’d done plenty during your heats, but none of that had any feeling behind it. This was so different, it was like you were an inexperienced virgin again, unsure of where to put your hands or what to do with your body.

Thankfully, he was taking charge, pressing you into the wall and sliding his leg between yours as he kept nibbling gently against your neck.

He drew out more little whines from you, the hand on your chin wandering down to ghost feather light touches down your side, his mouth gradually moving to nip at your chin and then hungrily at your lower lip.

His presence was heavy, devouring you without even trying.

When you responded to his insistent presses against your mouth positively, he groaned out his approval, teeth grazing your lip before sucking softly at it to soothe the slight sting.

Your own moan that followed spurred him on a bit more, hands moving to either side of your thighs before lifting you.

While you expected him to pin you against the wall right there, he surprised you by standing up fully with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms hastily thrown around his shoulders to hold yourself up.

He hadn’t stopped leaving little kisses on your face either, keeping you distracted as he walked farther into his dark cabin, not even bothering with the lights.

It was only when you were being laid down underneath him on a very soft bed that you did anything besides hold onto him.

While everything in you was telling you he was in charge, that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything to help him along.

With lust fueling your actions, you pressed your hips up against him, doing your best to grind against him with your legs wrapped around his waist.

Doing so earned you a low growl and him pressing a bit harder into you as he claimed your lips in a kiss that took your breath away.

Everything about him was larger than life, almost overwhelming you as he licked at your lower lip before teasing along your own before finally releasing your for a breather.

He was still impossibly close, but you managed to clear your head enough to start lifting your own shirt off, since his jacket was the only thing in the way besides his pants. He sat up, hands moving your legs from around him so he could shrug out of his bright yellow jacket and toss it to the side of his bed, hands finding your bare skin being revealed as you shimmied out of your top.

You would have blushed when hearing his appreciative hum, but you were a little too turned on, seeing him kneeling over you, looking like sinful perfection as his hands trailed down your stomach to graze the top of your shorts you wore.

He went slow, unbuttoning then with a gleam in his eye, that predatory feel coming back as his teeth glinted in the low lighting.

You complied with his slight tug, lifting your hips enough that he slid them down your hips before sitting back fully, pulling them down your thighs and to your knees, lifting your legs to be almost flush with his body and he pulled your shorts off, keeping you legs pinned against his front, pressing a soft kiss against your calf as he drank in the sight of you flushed and almost naked beneath him.

“미인”

Even through the fog of lust, you remembered him calling you that before. Something about how you were beautiful.

Your face got substantially warmer, but you managed to get out “You’re not so bad looking yourself.” but you couldn’t quite manage the cocky smile you wanted to have go along with it when he nipped at your calf where he had kissed just before.

He was enjoying being above you like this, getting to watch your reactions as his hand not holding your legs to his chest trailed down the front of your thighs, ghosting against the dip in your hip before tugging playfully at the edge of your slick soaked panties.

You could feel his own excitement pressed against the back of your left thigh, and could feel how he tensed slightly when you squirmed in his hold, letting out a moan when the pad of his thumb swiped against your mound.

“You’re already so wet for me, little omega.” His voice was husky, low and vibrating through your legs pressed against his chest.

Whimpering in response to the stronger press of his thumb circling slowly, he had you writhing beneath him with very little effort.

It was like he knew just where to press to give just enough pressure to build you up quickly. He had you wrapped around his finger in no time, your gasps turning into absolutely filthy moans as he moved your panties to the side, exposing you to him finally.

His fingers ghosted across your slick soaked folds, spreading them slightly and groaning at the sight.

And just like that, he wasn’t teasing anymore.

He let your legs down, hands easily undoing his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down his hips, eyes never leaving you.

You were just as eager, moving to rid yourself of your panties and undo the bra you wore, thankful they at least matched today.

He let you know he appreciated your efforts by pushing you back down, mouth closing around your left nipple, while his hand found its way to your hip, steadying himself as you found his way back between your thighs.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around him again, pulling a soft moan from him when your bodies pressed closer. His cock throbbed at the delicious friction your bucking provided, but he only allowed it for so long.

Sitting back just a bit, raising his head from your chest and making full eye contact with you before purring out “Careful little omega, you’re playing with fire~.”

And even though your brain was telling you this was a very bad idea, you went ahead and poked the lion anyways.

Biting your lip, you pressed yourself up, rubbing yourself against the underside of his cock for just a moment more before he let out a much lower growl than before.

You had less than a second to react before he flipped you over, pulling your hips back into him to press his aching hard on against your heat.

Before you had a chance to gather your bearings, he had you pinned under him, teeth closing around your scent gland once more, sucking softly while ever so slightly grazing your skin. A reminder of your position, of how this was going to go down.

A rumbling approval thrummed through you when you presented properly, no longer embarrassed by your own instincts.

He greedily pressed against you, rutting slightly, simply enjoying your soft skin for a moment before reaching a hand down and slowly pressing a finger into you, earning him a long drawn out mewl as he felt you grip at him. He quickly added a second, working you up easily and mercilessly.

And through the whole thing, his mouth never left your neck. He was working you into a frenzied mess underneath him with just his hands and mouth, your legs shaking from the sudden intensity of the buzzing feeling between your legs, leaving you dizzy as he licked and sucked around your scent gland, taking his sweet time getting you ready for him.

You were already so close just from his fingers working you open for him, so at the sudden press of his cock, you almost came right there, gripping at the first inch of his cock as he slowly sunk more into you.

He finally let up on your neck, but stayed right there, nuzzling at your ear, purring slightly.

It wasn’t long before he finally stilled, seated fully inside of you, groaning at the warmth hugging him into you.

He sat still, just enjoying the feeling of you fluttering around him. He felt your impatient little press back into him, grin splitting his face as a low laugh reverberated through your whole body with him this close, practically draped over your own form beneath him.

“You want more?” There was mirth in his voice again, but also an edge of warning.

Despite the voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea, you nodded a bit desperately.

A low hum set your whole body thrumming with need, you could feel his smile press into your skin as you barely made out his whisper.

“Remember, you asked for it…”

You didn’t even have a second to second guess yourself, his hands moved, one arm holding him up while the other went to hold your hips in a vice like grip as he withdrew half his length and then plunged back in, knocking the breath right out of you.

He gave you no recovery time, setting an almost brutal pace, hips canting at an angle that had you seeing stars and trying to get any air in as he practically used you beneath him.

While he was enjoying still being over top you, and so close, but he wanted to hear you. He wanted you crying out for him.

Leaning back, he moved both hands to your hips, eager to hear your first moan now that you could get a breath in.

His hips snapped forward, the power behind his thrusts ramping up quite a bit, and he was rewarded with a loud keen as he kept that same fast and deep pace from before.

He felt you clamp around him, letting out his own groan at the sensation. You could feel his fingers digging in just a bit harder, knowing you’d have light bruising from the treatment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment.

The bed sheet beneath you swam in front of your eyes, the pleasure bringing you to near tears as he adjusted yet again, pushing your face into the bed with one of his large hands splayed between your shoulder blades. And it was almost like he could hit even deeper from this position. He was filling you up with every thrust, leaving you a shaky mewling mess underneath him.

You were barely aware of anything besides your own mounting pleasure, but you just barely caught a growled command from him. “Ji-woon… say it”

His tone, deep and absolutely in control had you shivering under him, brain going to putty as you whimpered out what he asked.

A shaky attempt at his name left your lips, and it was close enough that it spurred him on, nails biting into your hip as he got close.

His pace quickened just a bit, and it had you keening out his name for him, music to his ears.

He felt you hit your peak, your orgasm crashing down on you as any noise you were making melted into a high pitched moan that was broken up with each thrust from him chasing his own end along side you.

And while the temptation to knot you was there, he held back, wanting to save that for the first time he’d lay his claiming bite on you in your heat.

You were almost through your own orgasm, body rigid and muscles tight, your ears ringing when you heard a choked out “이거야!” that was followed by a growl and his hips stilling finally, grip on you keeping you in place despite your own pleasure finally leaving you a twitching, boneless mess beneath him.

It wasn’t long before he draped himself over you again, pressing your body into the mattress as he surrounded you with his body and scent. One of a very pleased alpha.

“You did so well, little omega…” his praise left a warmth just beneath your skin, lighting you up unlike anything ever had before.

A surprisingly soft kiss was pressed just behind your ear, followed with a content purr as his hands gently rubbed at where he’d been gripping so hard earlier.

“So perfect, all for me.” His tone was still praising, but it had taken a possessive turn.

And his purr only picked up when you gave a little ‘mhhm’ at his words.

Being only for him didn’t sound so bad.

After all, you’d waited your whole life for the right alpha. Him wanting you just as much as you wanted him brought you a sense of peace.

You’d finally found him, your alpha. And you weren’t going to be letting him go anytime soon.

Translations 미인: (Miin) Beautiful woman

이거야!: (Igeoya) This is it!

#Ji-Woon Hak x reader #Ji-Woon Hak #Dead by Daylight lemons #Dead by Daylight #nsft #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #omegaverse #alpha Ji-Woon Hak #Omega reader

161 notes · View notes

yandere-society · 3 years

Text

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...

No, not Jonathan anymore�� I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.

“You have my word.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.

“I live to serve.”

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.

“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

335 notes · View notes