#maybe it’s the passage of time or the circles i attend
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stained glass.
Warnings: Mark, a priest, blows off some steam (gets oral beneath his desk. by you.) Doyoung happens to walk in, unbeknownst to him.
Mark’s been a man of God for a long time. Long before he became a man.
He didn’t follow all the rules before he became a priest. Some drinking, some smoking, and a healthy amount of sex came before he committed to become a priest at 18. He was young, still is. Johnny thinks it's hilarious that people twice his age come in hoping Mark is doing confessional on certain days, or that the pews need more Bibles on the days he’s set to lead mass. Funny of Johnny to say so when they need extra seats for him on Sundays.
Doyoung has always warned him about temptation. About how Mark’s bound to find one person worth breaking his vow of celibacy for. Harder to resist when Mark’s had a taste of sex before taking the vow. Mark is nothing but dedicated. It comes easy to him, ignoring the not so subtle ways their churchgoers come onto him; eye-fucking him while teaching the gospel, lingering touches on the arm during home visits, explicit stories during confessions.
It did–come easy. Before you.
New in town, a passerby really since you said you were moving on after half a year here. You tried to blend in with everyone else, trying to catch a seat near the front even though you were the nervous type, but it was hard not to pick your face out of the crowd. Around his age, which wasn’t as common lately, unwilling to put more than a few dollars in for offering, and only a tad apprehensive when asked whether you needed guidance outside the regular Sunday masses, maybe one on one with one of the priests.
Johnny hadn’t thought twice about assigning Mark to you. You’re around her age and she hasn’t made many connections in town yet, he said, she’ll relate to you the most. You were cagey in the beginning, sitting one on one in Mark’s tiny, stuffy office. You were only here because you had a grandmother back home that could iron a serviceman straight with just a look and she could tell when you were lying about attending church. Your work was something you weren’t willing to open up about. But you let loose after a while, a sailor’s mouth on you, bringing Mark up to date about this and that in the world of people your age that he wasn’t really a part of each time you met.
You weren’t tempting in the sense Doyoung had made it sound like. None of the red lipstick and tight pants and oops I dropped something stuff he’d had in mind. You’d squeeze his arm during goodbye’s, your fingers brushing his as you two went over a passage in the Bible you’d interpreted differently, the glisten of your lips in the sun while you told him a story, holding eye contact during one of Doyoung’s long, long sermons on slow Sundays that left Mark biting his lip against a smile.
He’d be left uncomfortably stiff at the end of the night when he thought about you that day, over those simple things. Rubbing his palm over himself through his sheets, light and hoping to ease some of the hurt, would only make it worse. He’d stop before he could shoot off into his boxers, he swears.
Maybe if Mark had let himself come a time or two, he wouldn’t be in this position: pressing his mouth to his clasped hands at his desk, so hard his lips smart, with you between his spread knees underneath the desk, your warm tongue looping lazy circles around the tip of his rock hard cock.
There’s a small radio on his desk, a monotone podcast about how to come clean to God, the words floating out the open door to his office. His Bible is still open in front of him where the both of you left it. He’d been reading a passage aloud to you, one that you said you hadn’t been able to understand from a teenager. You were leant over the desk beside his chair, your scent wafting over him, your lips in his periphery. He’d lost his place three times, unable to read words his brain wasn’t focused on.
Sorry, he’d laughed, rubbing at his forehead, I’m a little distracted this morning, forgive me. The way you coerced him after, rubbed a hand on his shoulder with faux concern and said, Do you need something to ease your mind, Father? Reached down to squeeze at his thigh through his robe, the heat of your palm burning through it and his slacks.
You know what they say, quieter the mind, the closer to God, you coaxed, your hand nudging higher and higher up his thigh until you were cupping him, feeling him swell up quickly. He couldn’t help it and you were right, just this once, just to clear his mind. He swears.
“Y/N,” Mark breathes, letting one hand come to rest on the back of your head beneath the desk, feeling the hellfire of your mouth finally closing around him, forcing a full body shiver.
You’d spent a few minutes lapping at him through his slacks, pulling him out to sniff at him, like you could smell that he hadn’t been pleased in years, a born again virgin. To feel your mouth and tongue, so wet and hot, gather around him has his toes curling in his shoes as you suckle at him gently. The radio is loud enough to muffle the small, smacking sounds of your lips around his cock, but the door is still open, leaving Mark exposed from the torso up at least. But no one’s passed by at all yet.
It makes him brave enough to scoot to the very edge of his chair, panting, to rock his hips into your face. This isn’t your first time doing this, not the fourth or fifth or sixth–no. The easy way you sink your mouth down to his base, burying yourself between the teeth of his zipper, is practiced. Whorish. And you’ve graced him with this gift. His dick feels bloated, like the skin has thinned with all the blood stuffed in, his balls pulsing with the load he’s been hanging onto for–god knows how long. He cants his hips a little faster, pushing into the tight grip of your throat with the pressure he has on the back of your head, gritting out strained breaths between his teeth at the sticky gulping sounds your throat makes back at him.
“I’ll come into you–” he begins to whisper fiercely, his heart drumming.
“Father Mark?” a voice rings out in the hallway, footsteps tapping the floors, coming towards the door quickly.
Mark’s fast enough to pull you away by the back of your neck and scooch his chair in until his stomach is flat to the edge before Doyoung comes to a halt before his office, a stack of papers in hand. Mark raises both his eyebrows in greeting.
“Oh, where’s Y/N?” Doyoung asks, stepping inside and looking around. Your bag and jacket are still hanging by the door.
“Went to the–uh bathroom, had to take an important call. Should be back soon,” Mark rambles away, his body flooded with the cold disappointment of another denial.
Doyoung shrugs and goes straight into church business; funding, new bibles, why the couple who keeps seeking counseling needs to seek a divorce lawyer. Your tongue laps against Mark’s glans, wiping away the bead of precum that ran down, tickling him, and his knees clamp around your shoulders. You’re really doing this to him, continuing to suck him off with Doyoung standing not four feet away.
His cock is so stiff it pushes against the cool bottom of the desk, warmed only by you mouthing at it from his drooling tip to his throbbing base, nuzzling. Mark has to press his fist into his mouth as he nods along to Doyoung’s words, his other fingers dig into the back of your neck, willing you to take him again, almost hoping you don’t with how excited he is.
The sudden, hot slide between your plush lips makes his spine straighten out in increments, surprising him with how fucking good it feels. You suck at him slowly, your tongue spinning against his glans with each firm pull back, cheeks hollowing as you sink him inside, the spongy tip teasing at the clasp of your throat. The sloppy sounds are quiet enough to go undetected by a still complaining Doyoung but loud enough for Mark’s balls to tighten up at.
“Are you okay? Your ears are really red,” Doyoung says, scrunching his nose.
Mark clears his throat, his face ablaze, “Yeah, I had to turn down the heat a little bit ago. Continue, you said something about the wine.”
He should be glad Doyoung is too concerned with the quality of sacrament these days to notice Mark having to take deep breaths as you begin to throat him, allowing the first inch of Mark to pierce the hot clutch, popping in and out of it with lackadaisical ease. How could Doyoung not see Mark fighting off the pleasure you’re giving him underneath this desk; Mark fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back, panting behind his fist, trying to focus on anything around the room. This could have easily been Doyoung if Johnny had assigned him, but Mark is so so lucky.
“Goodness, do you hear that–that splashing sound,” Doyoung sighs with a disgusted noise, looking up at the ceiling. “We need to get those pipes cleaned, I keep telling you guys.”
“Working on that,” Mark says, his voice strained as you keep sucking at him, an unhurried, tongue twisting affair.
He needs to come, evident in the sweat beading on his upper lip and the tremble in his thighs, he needs to, he needs it. It’s been so long since anything’s felt this mind melting. He wants it to end, he never wants you to stop. Mark tries to palm the back of your head to keep himself grounded, but he only ends up forcing you deeper in his desperation, stamping precum kisses to the back of your throat. And it takes him with barely more than a wet clucking, welcoming him deeper.
“Y/N is taking really long, but that’s good because I wanted to go over the next service–” Doyoung goes on, waltzing around the room, looking at the shelf of books near the door.
Your hand reaching into his slacks to massage his sac between your fingertips makes his shoulders twitch inward involuntarily, again and again.
He’s going to come, Mark realizes suddenly, the star-fire pit in his stomach growing too big to bear, his abdomen tensing up to prepare. Mark tries to stave it off, knowing it’s going to be intense, but your lips and tongue and sneaky fingers coax it from him like steel wire through wet clay.
Doyoung’s facing the book case the last Mark sees of him before his eyes unfocus, face blank. He's seeing but not present as he begins to burst into your mouth, flooding over your taste buds, Jesus, what you must be tasting right now, his balls contracting almost painfully. Mark blinks hard through it but his cock won’t stop releasing what feels like torrents of nut into you, it’s hard not to let one of his eyes roll back. He lets his shaking hand reach around to your throat, feeling you swallow everything he’s giving you.
“My God,” Mark exhales harshly behind his fist, letting his eyes close as he swallows the spit that was filling his mouth, his entire body relaxing from the strength of his orgasm.
“I know right, I can’t believe Johnny allowed that,” Doyoung huffs, still looking at the stacks of books.
“Yeah,” Mark mutters, leaning back a little to peek under the desk at you, holding his softening dick in your mouth still. “That was crazy.”
He reaches down to gently extract himself from your lips with a damp pop Doyoung must not hear, limp and wet with your saliva. His cock pulses weakly as he rubs himself across your mouth for a final time and shakes off uselessly before he starts to tuck himself away discreetly. You’re nice enough to pull up his zipper when he can’t get it with his trembling hand.
“Well,” Mark says, taking a deep breath as he stands up. His legs are pure jelly. “Y/N should be back soon.”
Doyoung nods, “Take care of her, will you? She’s still pretty new here.”
Mark looks down at you, at the smile he can see. Guilt comes over him briefly, at what he’s just done. But it’s like you took a heavy weight off of him. Out of him.
“I will, of course I will.”
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hiiii lisa, i hope you’re doing great!!
i would like to send a request: a theo raeken x reader in an au based on the song incredible by james tw
like maybe the reader hates theo because he’s always annoying her, but she doesn’t know he only does that because he knows once they become friends, he’ll most likely be stuck in the friend zone
then they were forced to attend prom together because their mothers are best friends and they were their og shippers 😎
idk if any of these make sense i’m sorry i think i got carried away 😭 but anyway, thank you thank you so much!! <333
banger of a song. this is what perfect by ed sheeran wishes it was
masterlist
God save the prom queen. It’s time for the senior class of Beacon Hills High School to have their moment.
Prom comes to one and all, both dazzling and cripplingly dismaying in the way that it’s never what you expect. Needless to say, the McCall pack will be rolling up to this classic adolescent ritual with all the delight a handful of battle weary teenagers can muster.
Right now, you’re in the upstairs bedroom of the Martin house, doing your best to coerce yourself into looking at least somewhat presentable. You’re not entirely sure whether you’ve been looking forward to or dreading prom night, but it’s here at last, and you can’t fight the passage of time as well as you can fight the hunters, so it looks like you’ll be going along with it anyway.
Across the room from you, Malia Hale shoots you a grin that’s half fangs, half actual pleasantry. “Try not to look so dejected, Y/N. Lydia tells me that we’re actually supposed to be having a good time.”
Lydia sniffs reprovingly. She’s in the midst of doing her hair, trying to delicately place pins shaped like small silver arrows into each strawberry blond curl. None of you have been brave enough to ask about the meaning behind those particular embellishments; this is, after all, the only way that Lydia will be able to go to prom with her best friend. Allison’s presence exists now only through memory and details, and Lydia can’t bear to lose a single one of them.
Still, she’s trying to maintain her happy decorum, so the rest of you are letting her. “We are having a good time, Malia. Not all fun experiences have to involve maiming other people.”
Malia frowns. “Why not?”
You bite back a laugh. “Don’t listen to her, Malia. Some people just don’t want to see us winning.”
Lydia’s eyes narrow. “I’m assuming your sudden acceptance of maiming comes from your prom date?”
Kira, halfway through figuring out how she can incorporate her katana belt into her gown and still have it look normal, breaks into laughter. “She’s got you there, Y/N.”
You groan, although you can’t hold back a smile of your own. “You don’t have to remind me about it.”
Malia chuckles. “Why are you going with Theo Raeken, of all people? I feel like I need the reminder.”
Kira cuts in happily. “I think we all need a reminder.”
You cross your arms melodramatically across your chest, which only serves to make your friends’ smiles broaden. “Way back when, his mom and my mom were the best of friends. They basically forced us to go together once Theo moved back in town.”
Lydia nods slowly. “And was this before or after he tried to bring the Dread Doctors into Beacon Hills and kill all of us?”
You raise a brow. “And you decided to go to prom with Stiles before or after he became the Nogitsune? We’ve all done things, Lyd.”
A chorus of delighted gasps circle the room at your comeback, and Lydia’s cheeks flush a light pink. “After,” she says, “Way after. I don’t know why you’re defending Theo, though. Don’t you hate him?”
You grimace. Lydia isn’t entirely wrong about that. Still, the facts present themselves, which is that you owe your mother for not freaking out when she discovered that her child was spending the nights running wild with a pack of werewolves, so you figure that appeasing her on this prom date couldn’t hurt.
Besides, some part of you isn’t entirely upset that Theo asked you. Yes, it feels as if he’s been nothing but bothersome since the second he came back to Beacon Hills, but it wasn’t always like that. You and Theo were friends ever since you were old enough to walk and talk, up until Theo’s family moved away from Beacon Hills in the fourth grade.
Perhaps you miss it, what you had with him. There was no one like Theo, not back then, and there never will be. Sure, every childhood friendship will forever be idolized in the hallowed halls of your memory, but it really felt like Theo understood you. He made you laugh like no one else, and he was always there for you, even in the ages of the quick attention spans of elementary school students.
So, when Theo approached you one day after school and asked you to prom, you were expecting it. Your mother had certainly been hinting that something like this might happen. Still, it felt important. You said yes to his promposal the same way you said yes to Scott and Stiles when they asked if you could trust Theo when he showed up for the first time: resounding, complete, the immediate word straight from your heart. You could never truly be without him.
You don’t think you can explain all of this to your friends, though, so you just smile and shrug and say that what happens tonight will just have to happen. They titter about that for a little longer, then go back to the usual business of straightening each others’ dresses and tracking down fallen bobby pins and combs.
You're wearing that dress I like
Those heels make you six feet high
Eventually, you all manage to put yourselves together in time. The pack is going to the prom together, although with some notable couples: Stiles and Lydia, for example, and you and Theo. Malia goes down the stairs first, never one to wait around, then Kira. Lydia is next, and you think Stiles might pass out from the sheer shock of seeing his girl.
My god, it's been awhile
Since the last time I saw you smile
You’re last, and as you descend the stairs from the second floor of Lydia’s house back down to the living room where the rest of the pack waits, you can’t help but search the assembled supernaturals for Theo. A second later, you find him teasing Liam, who won’t stop fidgeting with the knot of his tie.
Sometimes life gets so crazy that we can forget
All the little things we did back when we first met
Something must catch his attention, because he turns around just in time to see you step past the last of the stairs. You swear you see his entire face freeze, his eyes widening. For a moment, you can see the young boy you once knew in that face, the innocent one who would never dream of leaving you. You think the entire world twists and lengthens into eternity, just the two of you locking eyes across this vast room.
Suddenly the room grows quiet, I'm lost in your eyes
It feels like we're all alone, as the lights go on
Then you’re walking down the remainder of the stairs and into the living room, and the second Theo disappears behind a crush of people, you can catch your breath again. It doesn’t last long, though. He keeps looking at you like he’s never seen you before, even when you’re taking photos as a group and he can barely glance at the camera long enough for it to capture him.
You can see Kira raising her eyebrows at you across the room, and look away hastily. Evidently, you aren’t the only one who’s picked up on Theo’s sudden silence. However, you won’t have time to completely contemplate it, because Scott’s already headed for the door, talking about how if you guys don’t get going, you’re going to miss the dance completely. Stiles is right by his side, laughing at his friend’s nerves but still holding on to Lydia’s hand like he’s afraid that she might lose him if he doesn’t stay with her forever.
It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s strange to go into the venue rented by your school, to enter a massive room spilling over with every one of the people you may never see again after this night. Everything is over the top, the lights just dark enough that you don’t have to focus your eyes to see. It feels like something out of a dream.
It's getting late, wish we could stay like this forever
Dancing 'till both our feet ache
You dance with your friends for a while at first, all of you in a dense knot of raised arms and glowing eyes that none of you really want to silence. You don’t know if you’re laughing or singing or something better, but your throat is hoarse anyway. You think you could divide up this night into flashes of memory: bright colors, twirling skirts, someone’s hand on your wrist, leading you away. Theo’s hand. The music, briefly interrupted by someone saying that everyone’s going to do a slow dance. You, following him just like you always have.
You open your eyes and find yourself opposite Theo, waltzing slowly around the other pairs. The light catches at his face, the corner of his jaw, the feeling of the fabric of his suit jacket underneath your hand. His palm is on your shoulder blade, keeping you close. He’s never kept you this close before.
My love, nothing can break these arms
In your embrace, this crowded room doesn't matter
Theo cocks his head to the side as if he can tell that something decidedly less pure is racing through your mind. “What are you thinking about?”
A thousand words try to be the first ones said, and in the end, you settle for: “Why were you never here?”
Theo blinks. “I’m here now.”
You shake your head. “It’s not the same. You went missing for eight years, and then you come back, and it’s like I’m talking to a completely different guy. We used to be the best of friends, and now you spend all your time trying to irritate me. I was wondering what felt different about this night, and it’s because I’m doing all this with you. I mean, hell, you weren’t even at Homecoming, but I suppose you were never home long enough to come home to me.”
Theo flinches. The two of you are standing still now, arms still refusing to leave each other. Other couples are swirling around you, their smiles almost plaster still.
“I’m here now,” he repeats, “That’s good enough. I thought you didn’t blame me for the Dread Doctors–”
You cut him off. “I don’t blame you for the Dread Doctors. I blame you for not being here. I blame you for coming back and putting me in a position where I never know who you’re going to be when I see you. I thought I knew you. Stop making me choose you every time when you aren’t who I expect.”
Theo stares at your right hand, his left, still intertwined. “There’s a reason for that. I’m a liar, Y/N. You know that all too well. I have lied to every single person in this pack and I’ll probably keep doing it again and again until you cut me out for good.”
His gaze is unrelenting, and yours must be so as well. “That’s not it. You’re still here with me. Why go to the trouble of coming back if you’re just going to push me away every time we talk?”
Theo’s grip on your hand is impossibly tight, and then he drops it like a stone. “If I talk to you again, we’ll be friends again. My problem is that I’m too selfish, because if I have to be your friend, I have to listen to you talk about your crushes the way you did when we were kids, and the difference is that I can’t take that anymore.”
Your brow furrows. “What are you talking about? Why can’t we be friends anymore?”
The music is practically deafening, and you don’t know if it’s the beat of the synthesized drums or your own heartbeat that’s ricocheting through your head, making you feel so dizzy that Theo stepping forward to hold you again is the only thing that could possibly make sense. His kiss is medicine, easily solving every single problem lacing your blood with maladies impossible to describe. It feels right, long deserved, something you’ve been waiting for since the second you saw him again on that darkened night when he showed up for the very first time.
But dancing like it's our own stage
My love, I just wanna say that you look incredible tonight
Then he’s gone, disappearing back through the crowds. You watch his hand leave yours, then vanish behind a twirl of someone’s tulle skirt. Without thinking about it, you follow, ducking under a raised arm and weaving around a boy carrying his girl through a controlled dip. It feels as if every dancer here is somehow conspiring to keep you from Theo, and weaving a maze of twisted arms and legs to let him get away.
You dodge a nearby couple, and there he is, just a few feet away and walking with the defeated air of someone who’s told their gravest secret and thus has no more value to be seen. His hand, hanging emptily at his side, begs you to take it, and so you do.
And there's moments like this I never wanna let go
We're still those two kids putting on a show
Theo turns around, startled, but his expression relaxes when you kiss him back. When you break apart, Theo’s staring at you as if he can’t understand what you’ve done. Your hand, pressed up against his chest by the fury of what just happened, reaches for the collar of his shirt, anything to fill the needy space in your chest.
His lips crack, first to speak and then to smile. “You like me?”
He phrases it questioningly, a boy confronted with a truth wholly out of his sphere of understanding. You nod hesitantly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Theo chuckles, a sound that immediately takes you back to third grade, both of you running wild as if the sun could never set so long as you were with him. “You could have told me that a little earlier, you know.”
You lift your hand from his collar to swat him lightly. “So could you, by the way.”
He smirks. “That’s my Y/N, always defensive.”
He kisses you before you can argue this point, and you lapse back into contented quiet. Around you, you can still see leaping shapes, dashes and darts of fabric around limbs. Between the two of you, though, you have carved out a space of blissful solitude. Everything and nothing. It is perfect.
Standing in the room, so quiet, I'm lost in your eyes
It feels like we're all alone, as the lights go on
My love, I just wanna say that you look incredible tonight
teen wolf tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat
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The Last Semester – Part Fourteen
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Words: 1,867
Warning: Smut
Previous Parts: Part One; Part Two; Part Three*; Part Four*; Part Five*; Part Six; Part Seven; Part Eight; Part Nine; Part Ten; Part Eleven; Part Twelve, Part Thirteen
You were surprised to see your father and, just as he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek and a hug, you pulled away slightly.
‘What are you doing here?’ you asked surprised and your father informed you that he had a meeting in London and was staying until tomorrow. He wanted to surprise you.
As Cillian walked out of his office, he was just as surprised as you were and when your father shook Cillian’s hand, you couldn’t help but cringe knowing where his fingers had been just moments earlier.
‘It’s funny that I run into you both at the same time’ your father said somewhat surprised.
‘Yes, what a coincidence’ Cillian said, clearing his throat before he did while looking rather flustered.
‘I just had to discuss some uni stuff with Cillian’ you said, feeling the need to explain yourself and your father nodded without any suspicions.
‘Well, since you are both here, I was going to ask you whether you wanted to have dinner with me this evening at the hotel’ your father then asked, causing Cillian to look at you as if he was asking you a question.
‘Unless you think it is too inappropriate having dinner with one of your students’ your father then said to Cillian with a slight chuckle.
‘Y/N isn’t really my student John. I am just involved in providing some practical assistance with the upcoming play’ Cillian was quick to explain while your cheeks turned rather red. If he only knew that there were far more inappropriate things that you had done together.
‘7 o’clock then?’ your father asked and both you and Cillian nodded and agreed.
***
An hour after your run in with your father, Cillian called you and asked you what you wanted to do about your father. Cillian was of the opinion that you would have to talk to your father soon about your relationship with each other.
But, you were nowhere near ready to do this and explained to Cillian that he shouldn’t put this onto your plate until after your exams. By that time, you both would be back in Ireland and you were in better position to deal with this.
Cillian agreed but also suggested that you should keep your distance from each other until your father went back to Ireland the following day.
No sleepover, no kissing and no touching that evening.
***
When you arrived at your father’s hotel for dinner, you were surprised to learn that your father had brought a woman along.
Her name was Melissa and she had beautiful long blonde hair, freckled skin and dark blue eyes. She was in her late thirties and, according to your father, she was single.
‘Uhm alright?’ you giggled, unsure what all of this was about but, when Melissa excused herself and went to the lavatory, you soon learned from your father that he had brought her along to meet Cillian.
‘He’s been single for a while and I have just engaged her for the new play in Dublin’ your father explained and you couldn’t help but swallow harshly.
‘So, you thought you would ambush him with a blind date while you and me watch things unfold?’ you asked almost angrily.
‘Nah, we can leave after we eat and leave them to it’ your father laughed, but you certainly didn’t see the humour in it all.
Just as Melissa returned to the table, Cillian arrived and your father was quick to introduce them to each other before telling Cillian about Melissa’s engagement for the new play.
As usual, Cillian was oblivious about what your father had planned and about the way Melissa looked at him continuously for the first thirty minutes.
Throughout dinner, you all talked without minimal interaction between you and Cillian and this was something you struggled with now that Melissa was there. Cillian was yours and you desperately wanted her to know that.
Your father happily watched the situation unfold as Cillian was eating his dinner and Melissa wouldn’t stop talking to him, about art, music and wine.
You, on the other hand, were getting rather annoyed and shook off your heel beneath the table somewhat sneakily before lifting your foot up, running it across the inside of Cillian’s thigh.
Cillian inhaled sharply as you did and you were pressing slightly against his crotch beneath the table which, luckily, was covered with a large white table cloth.
As you were playfully rubbing against Cillian’s inner thigh and crotch with your foot, Melissa asked your father and Cillian whether they wanted to come for drinks at the hotel bar after dinner.
Your father quickly declined the offer, explaining to her that he had an early flight to catch.
‘Cillian?’ Melissa then asked as he didn’t respond to her question. He was concentrating hard not to groan as you continued to tease him.
‘Uhm, I have an early morning too. Another time maybe’ he barely managed to force out, making you giggle.
‘Well, we could share an Uber back in about ten minutes if you like Cillian?’ you then suggested and Cillian quickly nodded.
Finally, you removed your foot from his crotch and stepped back into your heel before pulling out your phone and ordering the Uber.
It was obvious to you that Melissa was rather disappointed but, nonetheless, she gave Cillian her business card which contained her mobile phone number and email address.
‘If you ever want to have this drink with me, call me’ she winked before getting up and thanking your father for the invitation to dinner.
‘Man, what is wrong with you? Are you back with this woman you were seeing?’ your father then asked Cillian just after Melissa had left.
‘Yes, I am actually’ Cillian then said all while his erection was still straining against his jeans.
‘What woman?’ you then asked and your father explained to you that her name was Y/N also.
‘Hmm I see’ you giggled before also excusing yourself in order to attend the lady’s room before collecting your jackets.
***
‘That was really naughty of you’ Cillian whispered into your ear as his hand was running over your thigh in the back of the Uber just before the driver pulled up in front of your house.
‘Are you coming up for an hour?’ you asked quickly and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.
‘What about your roommates?’ Cillian asked.
‘The guys are in Manchester until the weekend and Emma is at work until midnight’ you smirked.
***
As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, Cillian pinned you against the wall, telling you again how you misbehaved in the restaurant earlier, getting him all wound up beneath the table right in front of your father.
‘I just didn’t like this woman flirting with you’ you said, biting your lip just before Cillian pressed his lips onto yours for a passionate kiss.
His hand moved down your belly, beneath your dress and then straight on a trajectory to your pussy.
‘No panties?’ Cillian then asked after he pulled his lips away from your mouth while he continued to hold you against the wall.
‘No panties’ you moaned as his fingers skimmed over the smooth area preceding your slit.
‘Naughty girl’ Cillian huffed as his fingers wedged into you, entering your folds, gliding through them towards your entrance. His touch felt good, it was firm, but not forceful.
‘Fuck’ you moaned, wanting him so badly.
‘Open up for me’ Cillian then whispered. His voice was deep and quiet and your heart sped up again.
‘Open your legs Y/N’ he repeated his instruction. Your breath caught at the mention of your name. You loved when he talked to you like this, dirty and dominant.
Cillian pressed his palm up on your thigh, pushing your legs apart since you failed to respond to his verbal instructions.
His fingers slid down into your pussy, filling you. You could feel your body react, your juices soaking his hand. His digits slid in more easily on his second pass and your passage seemed outright slick on the third. He continued to work his finger in and out of you while his cock seemed to rock gently against one of your thighs, hard and aching to spring free. The sensation was wonderful, tingling, igniting sparks inside you. You soon felt your legs open wider, splaying you out to him as you stood there.
‘Fuck, look at you, soaking wet for me’ Cillian grinned just before he picked you up and threw you onto the lounge.
With your back facing him and your chest pressed again the back of the lounge, you leaned forward while, from behind you, Cillian lifted up your dress before unzipping his jeans.
It wasn’t long until you could feel his cock which was now aligned with your entrance. The tip was gliding through your folds, building up to something more intense until, with one loud groan, Cillian shoved the length of his cock inside you unexpectedly.
You yelped at the sudden intrusion and Cillian was thrusting deep inside you, filling and stretching your pussy in a way that, although pleasurable, was very intense.
‘Fuck Cillian’ you moaned loudly before reminding him not come inside you as you had told him earlier that you were late with your shot and therefore not on birth control for the moment.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t’ Cillian groaned as he was thrusting inside you hard and fast, grunting occasionally with effort.
‘Oh god fuck me harder’ you moaned, loving his dominance and the sounds of pleasure escaping his lips.
Cillian brought his hand up to your breasts, pushing your dress and bra down before running his fingers over one of your nipples, twisting it between his fingers, creating another instance of that stinging pleasure that you had already felt between your legs.
You whimpered under his touch and he soon moved his hand down your belly, reaching for the sensitive bundle of nerves above the place where he continued to ram you with his cock. He circled it, increasing the pressure until you felt an explosion of pleasure radiating from his fingers. You felt your body shudder and your channel contract around his cock, gripping him tightly. He groaned again, thrust deeply, and halted before suddenly, pulling out.
You quickly turned around and, just as you did, he started to jerk his cock, aiming for your already open and waiting mouth before filling it with his sweet cum.
Just as the last drop of his warm seed hit your tongue, you heard the door knob turn and, all of a sudden, Emma walked inside the living room.
‘Holy fuck, oh my god’ Emma said, turning around quickly while Cillian pulled up his pants and you wiped your mouth with a tissue.
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( ROSERAIE. )
What you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you two apart. It was your love that would be your demise.
pairing. jjk x f!reader.
genre + rating. my take on a hanahaki!au. pretty heavy on the angst. general.
tags / warnings. mention of minor character death, breaking up, soulmates, angst, unrequited love, sick character (hanahaki), bittersweet, non-idol.
wc. 3.2k
beta reader(s). my forever queens, @hobi-gif @snackhobi! you both bring such hope and joy (hahahaha) to my life!!! and of course, the loveliest angels @joheun-saram, @pars-ley, and @ditttiii for reading through and giving me excellent feedback!
author note. this is a part of @goldenclosetnetwork‘s 23 | jungkook’s birthday project. it’s my first time writing a hanahaki au so... i have a lot of headcanons for it but i’m not sure whether it all came across in the story. 😰 eep. anyway, please enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback. i would love and appreciate it! most importantly: happy birthday, kook! 💖
Your parents were a young match. Together from the tender age of eleven, they’d shared pieces of themselves readily, trading secrets in tree houses and blanket forts. Nothing was held back - a childhood crush brought to life by playful ribbing and sugar-coated snacks. Where your mother went, so did your father; she was his light as much as he was her shadow. Two halves of a destined whole, earnest and pure. Friends first.
It made perfect sense when they shared their dreams - the same one they’d had since they could remember - and it was identical: swimming in the ocean with a faceless friend, families on their respective four and three-week long road trips. They’d recognised each other immediately, felt the click the moment they stepped off the camper van. Your father had called it cooties; your mother said butterflies.
It didn’t matter that they’d never seen each other’s faces until that moment. There was the spark. Recognition. The rest was history.
Jungkook’s parents have been soulmates since the early 2000s. His father had lost his wife - his first soulmate - exactly one year prior to their meeting. He didn’t have his recurring dream until a fortnight before he met his wife. Hadn’t expected it, either. He’d been talking about his day in his local support group (it never got easier, he’d discovered) and he’d mentioned it in passing, glossing over the details of the vivid new pictures painted against his eyelids. His second wife - his second chance - had attended after losing her son. A complete chance. Serendipitous.
It wasn’t always simple, though. The heartbreaking endings came just as often as the happy.
There were people who lost their soulmates before even meeting them. They’d never know they’d lost their first one until the next dream came - if it came. If they were lucky enough.
There were message boards and dating sites. Places people stripped themselves bare and spilt their secrets to the world. Desperate for love, they detailed their dreams and hoped that their other half was somewhere out there, reading those same words.
Some, though, never found their special someone. Life came at you fast and from all directions - or it never came at all, caught somewhere across the globe in the form of someone you’d never meet. Those were the most painful circumstances, as if fate was cheating the system. Here’s a love you know you have, but that you’ll never experience. It was terribly cruel.
(But when was life ever fair?)
There were stories about those that never found their puzzle piece and how it felt, whether it hurt. Most said it was a quiet ache, something you never really noticed until you thought too closely about it, like a scar that had healed over or a loved one gone a long time. Painful in an explicable way and only - luckily, miserably - softened by ignorance.
Others spoke about it like death, missing an integral part of themselves. It played a large part of their life, shaping and changing them with each passing day. They couldn’t fully live without their person, even if they’d never met them. It was simply the principal of the matter.
You’d never quite existed in either camp. You’d always wanted to find love but you hadn’t rushed it. You figured you’d meet your happily ever after at some point. Maybe at your work - caught between the shelves or returning an overdue book - or maybe out with your dog, walking the same route you took every day. They’d show up one day. You were sure of it.
Love had a way of surrounding you.
Your best friends - because of course the two of them would fall for each other (it was nauseating) - had found each other young too, on the grounds of the elementary school you all played on. They’d been bonded since the beginning, secrets exchanged in art class and atop monkey bars. You’d cheered them on the whole way, giddy in a way you couldn’t describe. Being around it felt like standing beneath the sun, scorching heat warming you all the way to the core. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have it for yourself (yet).
They’d come. Eventually. You felt it in your bones and later, you’d learn, in your shins.
He’d come around the corner fast as a bullet, headphones in and hood pulled over his head. You’d barely have time to avoid him, poor coordination lending itself to disaster when only one of your feet would make it out of his path of destruction.
BANG!
It was something right out of a campy romance novel. Guy goes jogging, runs headlong into his dearly beloved and nearly gives her a concussion. He feels bad for her scraped knees and falls in love with her dog. His morning runs become theirs and six weeks later, over a late night bite of contrasting gelato flavours - green tea for him, bubble gum for her - they fit the pieces together.
Jungkook’s the faceless boy you’d always dreamt of, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on your thigh. He was the one with the slick black AppleWatch and long fingers. You’d never imagined he’d be covered in ink, immaculate designs running the length of his forearm all the way back and across his shoulders. In fact, you’d never thought about tattoos at all.
You get your first and only one with him - intricate red looped around your wrists and over your pinkies. Your own, very real string of fate, sealed and signed forever in rouge.
He was your Prince Charming, your best friend, your bonafide soulmate. You’d done everything together - skydiving, snorkelling, silly photos atop the Eiffel Tower. He’d adapted to your distaste of onions and took them all, meticulously picking them out of stir fries and sauces until not a single sliver remained. You’d learnt to tolerate his unbearably fast driving, white-knuckled and silent when he’d tear around corners too fast in a car too low. You fit perfectly, filling all the spaces he could never, keeping him whole even when he was broken.
Your love was of fairy tales but it was better than that too. Real. Concrete. Solid.
Until it wasn’t.
The two of you had never had any other choice.
That’s what it feels like, at least. He’d done his best - tried every little thing he could’ve possibly imagined - and it’d all amounted to nothing. He’d gone through all the motions, explored every avenue, given everything he had. It wasn’t working. This thing he wanted with every fibre of his being, that he’d hoped for his whole life, just wasn’t working. It wasn’t for him.
“I’m sorry,” he cries, and he knows you know he means it. You can read it between every line of his expression, tucked among the neatly scrawled india ink in faded red, underlining the passages you’d written together. He is sorry. He’d never meant to do this to you, nor you to him. He’d wanted to give you it all - make all your hopes and dreams come true.
Sometimes, fate just had other plans.
Because what the two of you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you apart. It was your love that would be your demise.
And he can’t bear to hurt the one he loves.
He’d tried so hard. Really, he had. You had too, more than he ever deserved.
There was simply no other option. You’d always come up short. You weren’t the one for him - not anymore - no matter how badly you wanted to be. You weren’t the one meant for him. You’d fumble for that ledge - held so impossibly high, just barely out of reach - before falling right back to where you began. The bottom. He couldn’t stand to see you there, brought to your knees once, twice, a hundred times.
He’d lose count if not for the petals.
Little ones, at first. Tiny pieces of silk you’d found on your pillowcase, outside the shower, in your water glass. They’d been unassuming - reminders you could easily ignore.
Then they’d grown, velvet softness that made it hard to breathe, that had him rubbing soothing circles over your skin, earnest vows winding like vines around your airways. Neither of you had had any idea why it was happening. You were soulmates - bound to each other and destined since the beginning. Your love wasn’t unrequited.
“We’ll figure it out,” he’d said. Sworn. “We’ll get through this.”
Your heart had broken with each promise; his had too, differently, but in perfect tandem.
(Spring still came, steadily, with a rose garden blooming within your insides and freesias in your nose.)
It wasn’t his fault. You would never blame him, even when it was his fist that broke yours, splintered it into a million pieces that cut worse than the thorns in your lungs. You knew this was just as hard for him. He’d had to watch you wither away, even as a patchwork of flowers blossomed in the spaces he’d thought he could keep safe. He hated it - could barely take it. It kept him up all night, tears in his eyes. Even when he slept - managed it, every few days - it’d prompt him awake in a cold sweat.
If he’d known then what had changed, maybe he could’ve fixed it sooner. Maybe he could’ve saved you the heartache. (Weeks later and during a coffee break with the new girl at his startup was not how he’d expected to find his answer.)
“I love you,” you tell him, an ocean of sadness. He loves you too, more than anything, more than there are stars in the sky. He loves you with every part of himself - and yet he knows now that’s what’s causing this. He loves you, but not in the right way. Every touch he offers is wrong, leaving you bruised, broken, barely breathing. It’s a disease - a venereal infection that seeps beneath skin and bone, settling within the marrow. It changes you from the inside out, realigns your DNA until you’re mutated and miserable.
The realisation is devastating: his love causes more harm than it heals.
So he stands there now, caught in the distance between you, eyes melancholy blue. His composure is frayed, crippled beneath the weight of your circumstance. He tries to memorise your face in these last moments - the colour of your hair, the shape of your stare. How you sound in the morning - voice raspy with sleep, dust caught in your eyes. The way you hold him close and the feeling of your eyelashes against his neck in the early hours.
Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to lose you, give you - this - up but he has to. He has to, for you. To give you a chance.
Even after having so little - only five short years - you were about to lose the rest of your lives.
You pack your bags - he helps, folding your favourite sweater (one of his, in truth) alongside your toiletries and undergarments - and you prepare to do the thing that you should never have to do. You sign papers, dot I’s and cross T’s, and put all your treasured memories away into cardboard boxes to never be touched again. You label them neatly and dress tape over edges; Band-Aids meant to hold together the deepest wounds.
You’re going under by anaesthetic and he’ll be here, where he has everything he wishes he could give you. A love he doesn’t deserve, within arms he wishes were yours.
He wonders whether he’ll still feel the pull once it’s done or whether his heart will stay there, tucked somewhere beneath the dug up roots. Whether it’ll be safe, undiscovered like a long lost treasure.
It’s best this way. He tells himself that - loops it on repeat until it’s the only thing he can think. It has to be better. For you, for you, for you.
He knows he’ll carry you with him forever. Like the air in his lungs, you’ll keep him going.
He’s snapped back to the present, to the small hallway of the home you’d built together. The traces of you are gone - all the photos hidden away, your row of shoes missing from beside his. It’s strangely bare. He knows it won’t last long. She’ll be here next week.
Your hand pushes against his cheek, thumb caressing along the seam of his bottom lip, right where the freckle sits. He’s a thief - a criminal, a sinner - when he dips his head, presses back into the warmth of your palm. This isn’t for him to take but he does anyway, eagerly and with deep regret.
“I love you.” Your voice cuts through all the white noise and agony - a beacon in the night, guiding him home.
He smiles, half-hearted and weak and not even his. Every part of him screams at him to beg you not to do it, to accept him for the man he is - lost and weak and sorry. He almost drops to his knees - fights tooth and nail against his aching limbs not to - and brings a hand to yours. The red threads looped around your wrists fit perfectly together, the ends of inked rope caught around your pinkies matching when his fingers slot between yours.
Don’t do this, he pleads, without words or hope.
“I’ll love you forever,” you tell him - promise like he had you. “You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky, Jeon Jungkook.”
He almost cracks - seams near splitting, adhesive tearing from skin - when you return his smile and he can see how hard it is. You’re already broken, all the pieces of your puzzle in terrible disarray.
You’re trying, for him.
“I’m so sorry,” he answers, because that is kinder than an I love you that doesn’t mean what you need it to. Because you deserve better - you deserve it in the same way you mean it.
So he’ll let you leave and he’ll pray this isn’t the worst decision of his whole life.
“I’ll see you.”
He hopes so. He can’t bear the idea of losing you again. He doesn’t think even she could fix him if he had to.
“Be safe,” he whispers, in a voice that stutters your stare and shatters what little resolve you have left. He sees it in your eyes - all the crystallised parts of your composure turned to ash. He wishes he could be sorry. He’s not.
“I love you,” you repeat with an air of finality.
Jungkook does the same: “I’m sorry.”
You leave, ushered into the back of your mother’s tiny sedan. She helps you with your bags and your seatbelt, rubbing your shoulder carefully when baby’s breath slips past your lips and falls all over your lap. She meets his stare when she climbs into the driver’s seat. He tries to read her expression. Understanding? Resentment? Gratitude?
The car pulls away with a groan, disappearing down the tree-lined street. Jungkook stands in the doorway for far longer than he should.
He’s moved on - settled down with the girl of his dreams. Literally.
She’s nothing like you, sarcastic and stubborn with a staunch refusal to ever come second best. She laughs maybe a bit too loud, giving him shit when he orders in another car part. She’d eat an onion raw, if she could, and takes showers hot enough to slough the skin from her bones. They have a home together and in a year’s time, he thinks he’ll propose. He’s not in any rush, though, because he knows she’s his forever.
(Knows it, even though you’d once been that same shining star to him. He has to believe it won’t happen again. Life can’t screw someone twice, right? Lightning never strikes the same spot or something like that?)
Still, he tries to forget the feeling of you.
It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. The love exists as it always has, just differently, in the palm of his hand and not the space behind his ribs. You’re his best friend and he is disgustingly, unbelievably lucky.
He’d gotten his second chance. Even if he’d once resented it, he had everything now.
You still go for your morning runs and he still changes your oil because you’d never learnt how to. His parents invite you for Sunday dinners; you’re gracious enough to decline them. You don’t see it as pity - you just don’t want to intrude. (It isn’t your place any longer.) You accept all the changes readily, without regret. You promise you’ll go by one day.
Your parents never speak to him. He doesn’t blame them. At the supermarket, on the street, in passing when he’s coming and they’re leaving - it’s radio silent.
It’s been six months and you haven’t dreamt at all. They’d hoped - prayed - that you’d find someone new after him, someone to treat you right. You don’t mind, you tell them. I’ll meet my special eventually, you say (again, again).
He wonders whether you resent them for it - their concern, perhaps a bit overbearing and offered with a heavy hand. If you do, you say nothing, playing along each time they suggest you meet another friend’s son, another junior at your father’s accounting firm. You don’t understand the sad way they watch you.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles one night, seated at the neighbourhood cafe you’d frequented on your first date. Your idea, because you loved coffee and, in your old words, this was your place. The start of it all, where he’d knocked you hard onto pavement and stolen your heart in the process.
You don’t remember it now. Not in the same way.
This is somewhere you come for their great matcha lattes, where you waste a few too many evenings when you just want to get out of the house. It isn’t the place he’d told you he loved you or where you’d resolved your first fight.
(It’d been stupid. He’d forgotten to pick up groceries for your first dinner with your parents. You’d been so stressed you’d snapped at him, carrying tension into the rest of the evening. He’d apologised with an almond croissant and your favourite green drink.)
It’s like a wall has gone up, splitting your heart in two. The part of you that’d once been Jungkook’s remains out of reach, caught behind a gate neither of you have the key to.
“For what?” You quip, a milk moustache presenting itself over the rim of your mug.
Jungkook shrugs. He can’t make you understand. “Y’know,” he mumbles into his red bean mochi bun. It sticks to his teeth and coats them in soft white flour. “Just— everything.” It’s not enough, either as an explanation or an apology. It falls terribly short, barely worthy of a participation trophy.
“It’s fine.” You say it every time, clockwork in response to the same apology he always gives - out of the blue and vague.
“No, but I’m—”
You level him with a glare. It might’ve hurt once but now it settles like a scolding from a sibling. He reminds himself this is how it should be, you there and him here - two parallel lines.
The guilt never goes away.
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Damirae Week 2021- Day 4
“Tale as old as Time” Day 4: Masquerade Ball
“I have a gift for you.”
Was all Damian had said to Raven one early winter morning. She couldn’t help but lift up a brow as she noticed his short black tail kept swishing back and forth. Damian was unusually pleased with himself as he explained her gift would be ready for her till midday. Raven couldn’t fathom what he had planned for her and agreed to stay in her room so the surprise wouldn’t be ruined. All morning Raven found herself walking in circles, she kept biting her lower lip with anticipation to what was in store for her. She looked up through her bedroom window noticing how the sunlight pierced through the white puffy clouds. Raven went ahead and opened the window all the way to allow the soft cold breeze of winter to enter her room.
The coldness did sting her for a bit, but Raven felt strangely delighted to be enveloped by it. She continued to gaze how everything was covered in perfect white snow. Raven hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but this had been her first-time seeing snow, she had read about it in her books but seeing it in person was truly a marvelous sight to behold with one’s eyes. The forest surrounding Wayne Castle were all blanket in white, making everything seem like a frozen white sea.
Something Raven was just noticing was that her bedroom window had a view of the castle’s main gates. This made her recall when she had fled, the day she had seen Damian’s true beastly form for the first time. She winced at the memory thinking she truly acted like a fool before him. She had kept that memory suppress since the rest of the day that followed, she had been unconscious. Raven remembered she had had just passed the gates; she entered the forest when she heard a strange sound belonging to a creature she never met.
Raven had stopped and stood still, hoping to blend with the pine trees. Whatever inhabit the forest gave her a low growl and stayed well hidden in the trees. Raven carefully took a few steps back, hoping to give herself some distance from the creature. She darted her eyes through the trees’ thickest trunks and manage to see a black form dart between the trees. It looked huge, much bigger in body than Damian’s beastly form.
Raven continue to back away, lifting her hands in surrender, she prayed that her body would show she meant no harm. Taking another step back, Raven lost her footing as she hadn’t realized the small cliff behind her. Raven screamed, frantically swigging her arms hoping to grab hold onto anythingto lesson her fall, she continues to roll down as branches and rocks poked her whole body. In the distance the creature howled, Raven managed to catch the glimpse of black fur running down the hill faster then she, she felt her body slammed into it. She whimpered in pain, her head was throbbing very painfully, she carefully turned her head and looked up. The sun shined brilliantly, blinding Raven for a moment, all she could make out was a dark form over her, as it panted and watched her. Its eyes were black and it too like Damian’s were sad.
That was when Raven blacked out.
The next thing she knew was waking up in her bedroom with Damian’s sisters looking after her. Raven scanned the area from her window, hoping to catch maybe a glance of whatever lived beyond the castle. Damian or his family didn’t speak much of the creature but did label it to be some sort of monster that guarded the castle. Just another ‘addition’ the witch’s curse held. They believed she summoned some monster to make sure no one entered or even allow Damian to leave the castle. Not that Damian would ever leave, he felt there was no place for him beyond the castle.
A light knock on her bedroom door brought Raven back from her thoughts. She called out and Damian timidly entered her room.
“I have something for you, if you would please follow me.” Damian said as he bowed and extended his left paw towards her.
Raven couldn’t help but smile, at the gesture, she truly wanted to believe they had become somewhat the strangest of friends. She walked slowly towards him and wrapped her arm around his large arm. Damian smiled and Raven could had sworn she had seen a very faint blush cover her dark fur cheeks.
Damian guided her out of her room and took her through hallways and rooms around the castle. It always amazed her how hugethe castle truly was since she hadn’t really explored every bit of it. Raven only walked through the hallways she already knew, she believed if she venture further into the castle, she would be lost in the maze of hallways and chambers. Since their celebration a month ago, the castle was always kept clean, Damian’s siblings did all the work. Raven offered to help but Dick insisted that they had it under control, though he was always to stay away since most of the time it was him creating the messes they had to clean up.
Damian led Raven to which she assumed was the East wing of the castle. The hallway they were walking through had many glass windows lined to allow sunlight to illuminate the halls. Raven couldn’t help but gaze out and see the gardens now adorned with snow and ice crystals. In the distance she saw an ivory pavilion in the center. Raven then saw the hallway was nearing to some large wooden marble doors with golden swirl-like handles. They were opened and she quickly scanned the open room, it was very grand, bigger than any other room in the castle she had visited. It must be the ballroom, Raven thought to herself as she noticed the room held somewhat a circular shape and as a single grand golden chandelier lit it ceiling. She took a mental note on how to get to the room for she wanted to examine it more.
Down the hallway were a vast case of stairs which led to a to entrance of another large wooden doors. They walked up, Raven waiting for Damian to open the doors but he stopped and looked at them for a long moment before letting go of Raven’s arm and turning to face her.
“Before we enter, I must ask you to close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“It’s part of the surprise.” He added with a smile.
Raven lifted her brow but closed her eyes either way. She could hear as the doors slowly creaked opened, Damian carefully grabbed her hands and slowly guided her inside. Though her eyes were shut, Raven had to squint as she could feel the room was illuminated by the sun’s rays as her eyelids turned a crimson red.
Damian let go of her hands and cleared his throat, “You may open them now.”
As Raven did, she gasped and widen her eyes in amazement. Books covered the entire walls of the two-floor room. A library, she thought. Raven turned and turned as she study each shelf, marveling at every ancient texture that slumbered here, waiting for her to read and study each of them. Never in her life had Raven seen a collection like this, she had only every dreamt it. To add the library had a ceiling painting, it was a beautifully drawn art piece depicting the time-lapse of a rising sun, to it setting, and finally the sky decorated with small stars. “It’s beautiful.” Raven managed to finally say.
“Do you like it?” Damian questioned her.
Raven couldn’t help but scoff at him, “like it? I love it! This place, I never seen anything like it. I can’t imagine someplace like this ever existed.”
Damian didn’t hide his huge grin as he continue to watch her circle the room, “then it’s yours. No one has ever entered this room since the curse was placed. My father treasured this room for many of the books you see belonged to my late-grandmother, Queen Martha. I believe you will value this library and every book the same way she did.”
Raven couldn’t find words to express how much she was grateful for this and the only thing she could do in that moment was wrap her arms around Damian in a tight hug.
~~~~
“Grayson, care to explain what you are doing?”
Damian growled at his brother as he watched him float around in his bedroom rummaging through his wardrobe. Annoyed and overly frustrated with his older brother’s meddling, Damian crossed his large fury arms across his chest and started tapping his foot on the ground rather loud.
Dick laughed happily, disregarding Damian in the room as he pulled out some clothing and bundled it up in his hands. “This will do nice,” Dick commented in a very low voice but still loud enough for Damian to hear. “Do you mind if I take this?”
Damian opened his mouth to protest but Dick continue, “No? Good. I will bring this back later today, make sure to bath extremely well and put on some cologne. The family and I have a little somethingplanned for later this evening.”
Damian let out an annoyed scoff, “And what if I don’t want to attend?”
“Oh, but you want to attend. Lady Raven has requested your company.” With that Dick exited the room leaving Damian with a dumbfounded face.
Raven had asked for his presence? After his mind had finally wrapped around to what his brother had meant Damian immediately went to his personal bath and soaked in a rose petal bath and washed his fur. For good measures he washed himself four times. Throughout the day, he had to wonder what his family had planned, what Raven had planned for them. Damian had to admit, since he gifted Raven the family’s library, they had been spending more time together. When out strolling with himself, Damian would find Raven on the floor, reading a book before the fireplace. He would then join her and ask if he could listen to her read. She had the most beautiful voice. Damian would think to himself as he listens attentively to Raven as she brought every passage she read to life. Sometimes Damian would sit next to her, resulting in Raven leaning up against him as she read.
It was times like these Damian would notice his own heart would beat much faster and his insides felt like they were in a whirlpool. Damian was content to the moments he was allowed to be by her side. Though he would look at her and couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly happy to be with him and his family. He did treat her like his prisoner when they first met, he grimaced at the thought of how harshly he had treated Raven. Damian had treated her like a thief wanting to rob his family’s treasures. Not once since she stayed in his castle had Raven ever tried to steal or wanting to take anything to claim as her own.
Damian sighed heavily as his heart started to ache of the times, he could had been kinder to her. Perhaps he could had shown her his true form much earlier, so she hadn’t gotten hurt that one time. Though revealing himself was the last thing he wanted to do, she was so damn beautiful, almost as if she were a goddess brought down to the Earth share her beauty with mortals. Raven was truly a kind-hearted person, while he was a beast. Though now under these strange circumstances, Raven didn’t seem to mind at all his form, but was this truly a place for her? As much as he may want it, Raven wasn’t bound to the castle like everyone else. She was allowed to leave and go back wherever she had come from. That sudden thought of saying goodbye to her, hurt Damian greatly. He felt a sharpen pain compressed his chest, thinking of never seeing her sprawled before a fireplace reading.
A small gentle grunt shook Damian awake from his thoughts as he looked to his door, Dick’s body halfway through the door. He had a huge grin across his face, “You ready Dami?”
Damian only nodded.
~~~~
Dick had brought Damian an outfit he would only wear on special occasions. An emerald tailcoat with golden accents on the seams, over a black button dressing shirt, and a pair of black trousers. To finish his attire, Damian had been given a black domino mask to cover half his face. Yesterdaythis outfit would had not fitted him, but Damian could conclude that his brother had his suit tailored by Kori. As Damian followed Dick along a hallway, the young prince had to wonder what Raven was wearing. If he was dressed like this, then perhaps she was…
“We’re here.”
Dick commented softy as Damian looked up and in the middle of the ballroom, there she stood. Damian couldn’t help but gasp softy at the sight before him. Raven was there standing in a light strap lavender dress. It wasn’t extravagant as gowns he knew from centuries ago, instead the bodice was covered in lilac laces design to look like vines and fallen leaves. It hugged her carefully showcasing her beautiful curves. At the dip of her waist the dress was lightly fluffed. It wasn’t exaggerated puffy, instead it looked like she could walk calmly well and wasn’t weighed down as it lightly feathers over the ballroom floor. To compliment her gown, Raven wore long silk lilac gloves and a pearl-white feather mask.
Dick bowed and exited the room, leaving both his brother and Raven alone. As he closed the doors, an old phonograph started to play a soft melody. Damian cautiously walked towards her and for the first time in years he became aware of his steps. Damian briefly glanced down to look at his shadow, assuring himself he was taking careful and beautiful strides as he was once taught when he was a prince. He kept one arm behind his back while the other was folded across his chest, when he stood tall before Raven, he bow slowly toward her. “My lady.”
Damian peeked under his thick lashes to notice a small blush over Raven’s cheeks before she courtesy to him, lifting her dress as she did. “Your highness…” then she slowed rose back up and locked his gaze with her amethyst. “May I ask why we are dressed… like this?”
“Pardon? I was told you requested me tonight, I would-” Damian stopped himself long enough to realized what had occurred. This was a set-upplanned by his annoying family. Damian let out an annoyed sigh and wonder how he could make sure his family would stop putting him and Raven in uncomfortable circumstances. “It would seem we been played; I am sure my siblings planned for all of this, what I don’t understand is why here.”
Raven gave a half-hearted chuckle as she turned and study the decorated room. “Probably I am at fault, I was here earlier; readying, when your sisters came to check-up on me. Then I asked them what the ballroom had been like before the curse. They explained that every month there was a party and told me stories of the Annual Masquerade Ball, your family held for your people to celebrate the beginning of autumn.”
The ball, how did he manage to forget that?! “Yes, actually my father was the one who started the ball in order to give everyone in Gotham a chance to be something else, allow them to dream of the wonders outside their lives. Needless to say, that was how Koriand’r met my brother.”
“Really?”
“Yes, she was just a simple seamstress from the village. She came dressed in this brilliant crimson dress, one she made herself. Grayson fell hard for her; she was invited to the castle multiple times to fix our garments and create dresses for my sisters. After a few months Grayson proposed to her, and they were to be wedded when-”
When the cursed happened.
Damian didn’t want to tarnish the mood reflecting on what the curse had taken from them. They all been living under a blanket of sorrow for much too long. Though if it hadn’t been for the curse then Damian would had never met the beautiful woman who was standing before him.
The music from the old phonograph started to play rather loudly, making Raven lift her hands as they clasp Damian’s paws. “It would be a shame to waste this music.” She never once left Damian’s gaze leave hers as she carefully placed one large paw behind her back and the other held her hand. “Please lead me, my lord.”
Damian couldn’t suppress the smile in him as he lifted her hand higher and swept her off the dancefloor.
Let this dream never end.
#damirae week 2021#Damian Wayne#raven roth#dc raven#Beauty and the Beast AU#DC Universe#DC comics#damina wayne#damianwayne#damian and raven#raven x damian#raven and damian#day 4#masquerade ball
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in cinders | 1 | considerations
pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader
length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters
summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.
tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut
It was the deep of winter when the castle exploded into preparations. Prince Shouto would have twenty-one winters at the end of the season, and word throughout the servants’ halls was that the king sought him a princess. The castle was overflowing with the appropriate requisitions for a winter masquerade; fanciful game, yards of brightly-colored silks, and all manner of gifts pouring into the palace halls like water burbling from a spring.
You liked looking at the gifts as they piled up the hallways, petting the wild furs and soft silks with a covetous appreciation. Best of all were the books, stacked up in the corridors until they towered in tall, unsteady cliffs. You liked running your fingers over their freshly-inked covers, enjoying the rustle of the pages and the crackling peel of the spines as they opened. You wondered if the prince would ever have time to read all these, wondered what knowledge could be gleaned from their soft pages.
Not that you would find out, seeing as you couldn’t read.
There was, of course, no need for a kitchen girl to know her letters. Your duties included much more enthralling pursuits, like cleaning vegetables and scouring pots, and the very engaging task of fetching hot water for tea and washing. It wasn’t as if the mop and bucket would ask you to recite your alphabet.
The work did come with its benefits, however. You spent a fair amount of time smuggling pastries into your skirts to be delivered later to all your palace favorites; Hagakure in the laundry room, and Ashido in the cramped workrooms of the seamstresses’ offices which were always spilling with bright fabrics and delicate threads. You occasionally snuck a sweet cake into the hands of Denki Kaminari as he patrolled the courtyards, brimming with good cheer.
The major benefit of your work, however, was that it left plenty of time for gossip with your best friend Ochako.
Which is what you were doing the morning where it all started.
“Can you imagine?” Ochako asked, bouncing a little and accidentally slopping water over the sides of her bucket. “What it must be like to go to a ball!”
You side-eyed her. You didn’t have to imagine, considering you had been wrangled into carrying plates at the last mid-winter ball. Balls were, in your opinion, just an excuse for nobility to get drunk and behave badly. Last time, you’d nearly run yourself dry spitting in every goblet you ferried to Duke Shishikura’s table after overhearing his remarks on the shape of another serving girl’s backside.
Still, you hated to discourage her.
“It sounds great, Ochako,” you said, hoisting your own water bucket against your hip and spinning to return to the castle, “it must be a lot of fun.”
She scrambled after you. “All those handsome men and pretty dresses!” she said, “I’d wear a pink one, floofy like Lady Yaoyorozu does. With little pink ribbons on it.”
You could picture her, the rosy hue of her dress matching her always pink cheeks, spinning circles in a ballroom.
“And dancing!” she exclaimed, catching you up and bumping her shoulder against yours. “I wish I knew how to dance. Those girls always look so elegant when they twirl like that. How do they know where to put their feet?”
She continued as the two of you passed into the shadow of the castle courtyard, ducking into a small door to the servants’ halls, “And the food! We work all month preparing for the feast, it would be so nice to eat some of it!”
Now that you could get behind. Weeks out, provisions had already begun to arrive and you’d caught yourself mooning over the sweet nuts and berries, the colorful spices imported from the border kingdoms. You’d have to be more careful with how much food you pilfered this time around, as plenty of servants were sure to be doing the same.
“I’d bet it’s amazing,” you conceded. “I would eat a thousand platefuls and spend the whole evening by the refreshments.”
Ochako laughed. “You wouldn’t dance?”
The two of you turned into the large, drafty passageway that led into the main kitchens.
“I’d leave that to you,” you said, grinning. “You’d be the most beautiful girl at the ball, in your pink fluffy skirts. Your dance card would be full within minutes.”
A snort, echoing in the open passage, startled you. You whirled, finding Kamiko Ito behind you.
“Maybe if she was the only woman under sixty in attendance,” Kamiko quipped.
You glowered. Though she looked just like an angel with her glossy hair, big eyes, and full mouth, Kamiko was bad news. She was a chambermaid, one level above you in the servants’ hierarchy, and she never failed to make you feel it. She wielded her station like a sharpened sword, needling at you--though mostly Ochako--simply for the pleasure of seeing someone bleed.
“Fuck off, Kamiko,” you growled, moving to block Ochako from her view.
“Feeling brave today, are we, Y/N?” she hissed. “I would hate for the housekeeper to find out you’ve been running your mouth again.”
You grit your teeth. The last time the housekeeper had caught you swearing at Kamiko, you’d been lashed three times and given a week of extra duties, swilling the floors with lye long after the other servants had gone to bed and scraping the ashes out of the kitchen fireplaces. You’d spent the better part of the week with soot staining your cheeks and layering in your hair - too tired to even wash up before falling straight asleep the moment you made it back to your bed.
“Leave Ochako alone,” you groused, hating the way your voice forced itself into a more medial tone. You’d only just gotten all the soot out of your pillowcase and blanket.
Kamiko smirked. “Or what, cinders?”
Fortunately, you were saved from responding by the sound of heavy glass breaking in the kitchens beyond. You wheeled around, taking Ochako by the arm and dragging her into the kitchens.
“Y-your highness!” The cook’s normally deep voice was reaching a squeaky register you’d never heard him hit before. Rikido Sato was normally placid and calm, only ruffled when a dessert didn’t turn out the way he’d wanted. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Over Rikido’s burly shoulder, you could see the tall, lean form of Prince Shouto Todoroki, looking entirely out of place in the chaos of the palace kitchens. Beside him, his tousle-haired attendant Izuku Midoriya glanced around brightly, as though cataloguing every detail before him.
At Rikido’s feet, the shattered remains of a pitcher littered the floor.
You set your bucket down and moved to get a broom, going to your knees in front of Rikido to swipe the shards into a dust pan.
“My apologies for startling you,” the prince spoke in a deep, even tone. Even from your angle at Rikido’s feet, you could see how much more handsome he’d become since the last time you’d spotted him.
Having spent most of your life in service at the castle, you’d seen plenty of the young prince. Most of your sightings had been during his gangly teen years, when he’d spent the majority of his time out in the courtyards, learning the swords and the bow from the guardsmen. He'd trained hard for someone who - it was rumored - could bring down an entire fortress with the deadly combination of fire and ice magic that roiled within him. It was clear now that he’d grown plenty in the years since, his form broad-shouldered and strapped with lean muscle, hinting at the promise of power. The only admission to the boy he’d been before was that distinctive mop of red and white hair, his piercing heterochromatic eyes, and the scar that circled his left eye like one half of a masquerade mask.
“I came to make a request for the ball,” Prince Shouto continued, “for those cold noodles you served at the summer festival. You, ah--you don’t usually make them in the wintertime, so I thought…”
He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. He’d probably never had to ask for anything in his life before.
Rikido swept into a hasty bow, almost knocking straight into you as you climbed to your feet. “Anything, your highness! We will be sure to serve cold soba at the feast!”
The prince’s gaze flicked over you as you stumbled back behind Rikido, dustpan clutched in your hands. Beyond him, Midoriya seemed caught on something behind your left shoulder, mouth agape a little. You glanced quickly behind you, finding Ochako, eyes fixed resolutely to the kitchen floors, pink deepening her already rosy cheeks.
“Thank you,” the prince said, slowly. “You must be quite busy already. I shall take my leave.”
He leaned forward, executing a bow, though not nearly as deep the one Rikido still held. With that, he turned and swept from the room, his green haired valet hobbling alongside him to keep up.
Even after his exit, a ringing silence muffled the kitchens. It was likely that many of the servants here had never even seen their prince before, as royalty rarely made their way into the cramped passages and drafty rooms of the servants’ quarters. Even you could admit that Prince Shouto must be overwhelming to look at for the first time if one had not had the experience of seeing him as an awkward teen.
His very presence was latent with quiet command, and he was so very handsome.
“My god, he is so very handsome,” Ochako squeaked from behind you.
You turned to her. Her cheeks were still flush with pink and her water bucket was loose in her arms like she’d almost forgotten it was there.
Rikido finally swept out of his bow to look at her, and you laughed.
“He’s something, alright.”
Ochako blushed even deeper. “His eyes! And that hair - so ruffled. I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.”
You thought back to the prince. His hair had seemed orderly enough to you, maybe a little windswept from the cold, but to each their own, you guessed.
Before you could respond, Kamiko swanned her way into the kitchens, bumping Ochako as she passed. “Not that you’ll ever find out, kitchen wench.”
She strode off, button nose pointed in the air, so much like the ladies whose rooms she cleaned. You felt an irritation rise within you as you watched her retreating figure. Where did a mere servant even get such a high and mighty attitude?
Ochako let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose she’s right. What business would I even have with him? He’s so far above me.”
Your notorious temper flared a little hotter at that. Kamiko was a toad. Ochako was sweet and kind, and deserved anything she wanted, whether it was a pink fluffy dress and an evening at the ball, or her soft-haired fantasy prince. You had no doubt that given an opportunity to speak with her, Prince Shouto would fall all over himself for her pink-cheeked charm. Any man would be lucky to be spared a moment of her time.
You gave her a considering look as you picked up your water bucket, and she stared back nervously. There might be a way to get her her evening at the ball. If you played your cards right, there might even be a way to get her her prince.
In your mind, a plan began to form.
You were going to teach Kamiko a lesson, even if you had to bathe in cinders to get there.
#fanfic#todoroki shouto#todoroki x reader#bnha#todoroki shouto x reader#boku no hero academia#bnha x reader
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I Loved You First
Request: Can u write Severus x reader x Sirius but her endgame is Snape? I love ur one shots btw.
Genre: Fluff
Synopsis: (Y/n) likes Snape, but Snape likes Lily, so (Y/n) dates Sirius.
Pairings: Severus Snape x Fem reader, Wolfstar and James Potter x Lily Evans
Warnings: None
“I think I love Lily.”
“Oh, that’s great Sev.” (Y/n) said to her best friend. Her smile as fake as his Slytherin friends. Her heart cracked in two, but the smile remained. “Are you gonna tell her?”
“Not yet.” He shrugged, “ I think I’ll tell her when the time is right.”
(Y/n) gave another smile, this one more genuine, “I’m so happy for you Sev, you should definitely ask her out.”
Severus smiled at her and got up from the ground, “I think she’s by the lake, see you later (Y/n).”
“Yeah, bye Sev.”
(Y/n) sighed and shook her head. Her crush on Severus Snape had been weighing her down for a while. Severus wouldn’t return her feelings because (Y/n) knew that when Severus Snape fell in love, he would be ride or die. All of the pent of emotion escaped from her as tears pooled in her eyes. Maybe it was finally time, time to let go of that crush.
She made her way back up to the castle to study for herbology and transfigurations as all fourth years had exams in two months and she was struggling with the concepts. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, a laugh rang from a group of boys near the steps. “Hey! (Y/l/n)! Done hanging out with Snivillus?” James Potter roared at her.
(Y/n) ignored him and made her way up the steps, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist. She didn’t hate James and his friends, just found him annoying and loud and she disliked their picking on Severus. “Hey, you’re friends with Evans right?” He asked a smirk lighting up his face.
(Y/n) pulled her hand out from his and snapped, “Yes Potter, I am friends with Lily.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind setting me up with her?” James said, crossing his arms over his chest. A smile played on his face as his cockiness stepped forward.
“I would mind you stuck up, pretentious, snot rag!” (Y/n) scoffed.
(Y/n) pushed past the Gryffindor again and made it into the castle. She was about to turn the corner when Sirius Black’s voice picked up, “Hey, (Y/l/n). I’m sorry about James.”
(Y/n) turned to shout at Sirius, but instead froze at the sheepish look on his face. Instead she muttered out a sarcastic, “Thanks Black.”
“Not an issue and I really am sorry about Potter,” Sirius rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “He has a major crush on Evans and, well you know how James is.”
“Yeah, I do.” (Y/n) confirmed looking at the ground embarrassment heating her cheeks.
“I also noticed that Evans and Snape have been pushing you aside recently, and I wanted to invite you to,” Sirius’ gaze fell to (Y/n)’s bowed head, “hang out and study for exams this afternoon?”
(Y/n) looked up at Sirius and gave a wide smile, “Absolutely, I definitely need some help with transfiguration, especially theory.” She stuck out her tongue in fake disgust at the idea and Sirius gave a light chuckle.
She made her way with the boy outside to the group of Gryffindors. All five of them sat in a circle and pulled out their books. (Y/n) noticed that Lupin, no Remus, had the neatest notes and all four of the boys had copied down exactly what was on the board. Having an echoic memory, (Y/n) had copied what the teachers had said as well as the written notes. She began adding points to Sirius’ transfiguration notes when she looked up at the other ringleader.
“Hey, um, James,” (Y/n) commented, “McGonagall talked about how the exam would have a theory component, I know you’re really good at transfiguration, could you help me out with that?”
James laughed and smiled at her,as if he hadn’t insulted Severus less than an hour ago. “Yeah, I’ll definitely help you with that, if you could help us with history of magic, I can never understand how you are acing that class.”
“Of course, I have a really good auditory memory. Bins may be boring, but he knows his stuff!”
Over the next few years, the Marauders, which was what they called themselves, and (Y/n) became a study group and more. The four Gryffindor boys had wormed their way into her heart, and (Y/n) found herself hanging out with Severus and Lily less and less.
It wasn’t just the group that made her insides glow, but Sirius Black had climbed the rungs of her love ladder and overtook Severus in a matter of months.
She confessed her feelings to him one day in sixth year during the Hogsmeade trip and he gave (Y/n) her first kiss in the secret passage under Honeydukes. The Gryffindor/(Y/H) couple was the talk of Hogwarts and they had to catch snippets of privacy whenever they could afford it.
In seventh year, Lily joined their ranks and the group of six began merrily moving through their lives and studies as a friend group. It had been in fifth year when Severus cut ties with (Y/n) and Lily, and though the fire of (Y/n)’s heart still burned for him, Sirius gave her what she needed in a relationship and she was satisfied with that.
It was also in seventh year that Remus disclosed to his friends that he was bisexual. All five others supported him and congratulated him on coming out to them. As Remus lived his truth and began to date men as well as women, Sirius confided in (Y/n) that he too was bisexual and very attracted to Remus.
(Y/n) thanked him for telling her his truth and, as soon as Lupin knew about Sirius’ attraction, her two canine friends began a relationship.
Having broken up with Sirius, (Y/n) turned back to her crush on Severus, confiding in Lily that deepest of secrets. Despite her reservations, as she had somewhat of a dislike for Snape, due to the fifth year incident, Lily almost squealed and wrapped her arms around her friend, jumping up and down.
When NEWTs were over and graduation loomed over the students of Hogwarts, (Y/n) began to speak with Snape again, he was gruffer than before and (Y/n) took it upon herself to bring back that sweet Severus that she knew was in their somewhere.
Departing Hogwarts as friends, they began searching for careers together and (Y/n) was able to pull him back out of his shell for the shortest of times. That is, until the invitation for Lily and James’ wedding appeared in the post. Sev RVSPd ‘No’ right away and climbed the stairs to cry in his bed. (Y/n) attended the wedding and brought home lots of pictures for Severus, even though he denied wanting them.
As time flew by, and Lily’s baby bump grew, Severus’ grief seemed to lessen. His parents had both passed away, leaving him the Spinner’s End home, and he allowed (Y/n) to move in with him. One day, after he came home from job searching to the flat he and (Y/n) shared, Severus found her asleep on the couch. He smiled at the cute sight and felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a while.
Sev made his way to the couch and climbed in behind (Y/n) who rolled around to face him.
He smiled and held her close, his eyes fluttering closed, enjoying the warmth of his best friend and, maybe, something more.
Just as he fell asleep, he heard (Y/n) whisper, “I have loved you since we were fourteen.”
He held her tighter and smiled for the first time in forever.
Author’s note: Again, not all requests will be answered this fast, but please keep sending in requests and asks, I will write everything you send me and answer any questions you have.
#severus snape#severus snape x reader#severus snape x you#harry potter x reader#x reader#Harry Potter#fem reader#reader is female#wolfstar#james x lily#fanfiction#please request things
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Do It For Me - 3.2
warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, polyamory, brief mention of assault
summary:
“He said he’d do anything for me.”
He leans forward, his forehead bumping against yours and his hand cupping your cheek. Your breaths intermingle in the small space between each other, your lips just a few precious centimeters away from Keigo’s. “Of course he would dove, you deserve so much. You’re just so… so fucking…”
3.1 ✧ 3.2 ✧ 3.3
Touya is better at checking up on you if you accompany him to a house party, Keigo keeping you company sometimes like tonight as you walked through the front doors. You take a quarter of the ecstasy Touya gave to you earlier and Keigo takes a half, just like the first night the two of you rolled together at a house party. More than likely he’s selling whatever he got in that case just last week. Touya always deals sober, he needs a clear mind when he goes out to these functions but he’s happy to see your little high-off-your-ass self enjoying your roll. The way you tousle your own hair when you vibe to a song, that look of wonder as you just stare off into space, and just how fucking adorable you are in general.
It’s not like you roll every single time you attend a house party, sometimes it’s just drinking or maybe a little bit of weed or a few lines of coke, but your eyes had zeroed in on a particular someone a few minutes after you walked through the doors so you decided that you just wanted to relax. It doesn’t necessarily make you anxious or afraid seeing this particular person but your communication was broken in an instant the last time you had seen them.
Your eyes glance at one another, much too quick for Touya or Keigo to notice, but eye contact is made.
Ecstasy should distract you right?
Well, it’s more like Keigo distracts you and the ecstasy just helps.
So Keigo mingles with the other partygoers while he keeps you close to his side, keeping an even conversation that would seem normal had you not been so touchy with him and him returning those affections without breaking eye contact with the people he speaks to in the moment. He gives light warnings when you get a little too handsy, and you swear that you’ll be good if he just gives you another kiss or feeds you another stick of gum or even tilt the water bottle towards your lips because you’re too lazy to do it yourself.
You get some weird looks at first but when they’re told that you’re rolling, it’s an immediate and knowing ‘ahh’ that comes from them. You don’t care about their looks or stares, Keigo’s got you safe and sound. But you do get some looks when Touya comes to your side for a brief break to check on you and you ask him for kisses also. When you’re lip locked with Touya and also switch off to Keigo, it causes some murmurs for the ones who bother to pay attention. Sure there have been lots of instances where three people are making out together or something to that effect, but they could all swear that ‘Didn’t Dabi just come out from one of the rooms with a girl?’
And it captures the attention of one individual in particular.
Touya has to return work, assuring you for just an extra minute longer before depositing you back to Keigo and with a simple order, “Be good.”
He walks away, you lean against Keigo again, complaining that you want to go outside because it’s too hot inside the house. But going outside serves another purpose because you know that Touya is busy talking and dealing and you need to have this conversation where you know he and a certain other person won’t overhear it. In the backyard there’s a game of king’s cup going on, a fire pit with a small circle of people nearby, and a little group of people that are smoking together. But you pull Keigo to the furthest part of the yard, a decent distance away from everyone. Sure you could have just stuck by the door and talked quietly enough but it wasn’t a risk you were willing to take because anyone could come out.
Keigo sits on the grass and pulls you to sit in his lap, making sure you’re comfortable and that you take a sip of water from the new bottle he just got.
“You got something on your mind dove?” he asks.
You nod your head and glance back towards the house briefly before looking back at him, just enough light for you to see how big his pupils are. You’ve got a better handle of yourself while on ecstasy but you’re not brave enough to take a whole by yourself just yet, still working up the nerve to at least take a half. Never mind about the ecstasy, you have to tell Keigo something. You take a few seconds to collect your courage and tell him, “My ex is here at the party, the most recent one.”
Golden eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh… does Touya know?”
You never talked about your ex in detail with Keigo, just a general overview of how things weren’t working out but that was it. Touya didn’t know all the details but he knew just enough, the relationship lasted almost a year and by the halfway mark things were starting go south between you and your ex. It worked out for you anyway because you didn’t want to talk about your ex in general, just enough to get it off your chest and let your boyfriend know. “Touya doesn’t know what Jun even looks like, he didn’t want to see a picture at all.”
“Yeah, that sure sounds like him. So how do you feel about Jun being here? How exactly did things end between you guys?”
It was great with Jun at first, meeting through a mutual friend and getting to know each other before making it official. You always understood giving your past partners space and time to do their own thing, everyone is entitled to their alone time. The issue was that further down the relationship, Jun could not and would not manage his time well with you and eventually just revealed altogether that he didn’t want to put the extra effort in anymore.
“We haven’t even dated for a year, why are you taking us so seriously?” he asked when he looked up from working on his car when you confronted him in his garage.
“I’m your girlfriend, there shouldn’t have to be a threshold for how serious our relationship should be based on the passage of time. Why are we even seeing each other if you don’t want to try to make it work?” you huffed and leaned against the wall of the garage and had crossed your arms. “What are we even doing?”
Jun had sighed and grabbed a rag to wipe the oil off his hands. “(Name), it’s not that I don’t want us to work, it’s that you are getting so hung up on some of the menial shit that it makes me not want to be with you as much. We hang out, we cook dinner or go out, and then I go do my thing. And all I hear from you is that we don’t talk enough or that I don’t separate enough time for you. You’re fucking yourself in the head and working yourself up.”
“You are not being good to me! You used to want to talk to me all the time and wanted to know what my free hours were so that you could be with me. Now it’s the bare minimum you give and you act like my feelings are an inconvenience to you!”
You and Jun had argued for a solid hour before you stormed off, it was the last sober conversation you had with him. You had gone out with friends to a club afterwards, drinking away your frustrations and wondering why you were with a guy who had consciously chosen to not put you first. It hurt way more than it should but only because you kept on sloshing shots back. You were getting shit faced, all the people dancing in the club and getting in your space, the strobe lights providing a certain atmosphere to your fucked up state of mind, and then Jun had shown up. He claimed that you had texted him to come but you were drunk as hell, pushing him off when he tried to pull you out of the club.
Instead you screamed at him, hands around his throat as you pushed him to the wall and told him that you wanted to kill him. He must have been high on something because the sober Jun wouldn’t have allowed such a thing, he had smiled and breathlessly laughed that he was all yours to kill. You kissed him, rum and tequila clouding your judgement, even though you called him an asshole, you ground yourself against his body. In your mind, all you could think that this was over and this would be the last time.
You woke up in his bed the next morning, looking at him for just a few minutes before getting dressed. His number was blocked and whatever belongings you kept that were his were sent back to him. He hadn’t bothered to seek you out after that one last fuck, it hurt a lot at the time that he didn’t even want to rectify the way things were left off. But you got over it eventually because you accepted that not all conflicts would have closure and you met Touya just a little over a year later.
“Wow, I’m sorry things ended that way dove. Sounds like he really didn’t deserve you though.” Keigo tells you, the slightest hint of anger in his eyes. Someone like you should be treasured but he can’t help but feel grateful that things didn’t work out because otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now with him, Touya would wholeheartedly agree. “You sure you’re okay being here with him in the same house?”
“Jun’s not a bad guy, he really isn’t. We just clearly weren’t on the same page and I was pushing for a relationship that showed pretty early on that we were on different wavelengths. I’ll be okay, I have you and Touya and that’s all that matters.” you tell Keigo as you peck his cheek, forgetting about the shadow of the breakup with Jun and tenderness pouring out instead. Even with the hiccups and arguments with Touya, he’s given you more than Jun ever did. “It’s just us, Jun doesn’t matter.”
Keigo couldn’t have said it better himself and he thinks it’s a good time to continue the roll, holding up the half of the tab to you. “I think you’re ready to take a half baby bird, you can handle it.”
The two of you pop the remains of your tablets, wash it down with water and then just a quick peck on the cheek. You sit outside the yard longer and just enjoy watching the outside activities from afar, the cheers and jeers when someone is forced to drink after fucking up their turn in the drinking game, different people go to hang around the fire pit and stoke the fire, two guys even came to chat with you and Keigo for a few minutes and they bid goodbye when its their time to leave the party.
You’re practically giddy with excitement as you see Touya approach you, taking another break from the party as he sits down with you and Keigo on the grass. You move to sit on his lap and tell him that you took a whole half of ecstasy, to which he just chuckles and tells you, “That’s my girl.”
“You guys ever think about what kind of super powers you would have? I already know what powers I think you guys would have.” you tell the boys as you trace the lines on Touya’s palm and look to them. You chew on the gum in your mouth for a few seconds before asking, “You guys wanna know?”
“Of course baby bird, tell us.” Keigo is massaging your calves, attentive as always while Touya has his free hand smoothing up and down your back. They really do spoil you a lot…
“Okay, so at first I thought Keigo’s super power would be like being really fast because, you know, Keigo likes to do a lot of stuff fast and makes it look so easy. But I started thinking that maybe it wasn’t completely right, like maybe some kind of thing that can be really fast. I don’t think Keigo would be a power type, like he’s not weak by any means but he would have more proficiency that makes his powers really impressive.” you lean against Touya and curl against his body. “I think that he’d look so cool with a big pair of wings on his back, like huge red wings with all these feathers that he can control at will, like being able to call them back individually and collectively. So like if you sent out too many feathers out you wouldn’t be able to fly unless you call them back. And I think if you had to choose your super hero name, it’d be Hawks.”
Keigo is amazed as he listens to you. “Wow (Name), sounds like you put some thought into mine but I actually kind of like that. What made you decide all that?”
“You like eating a lot of chicken, so an avian-like power just seemed really fitting.”
Touya laughs in mock at his friend, not even fighting back as Keigo punches him in the arm.
“She gave me bird wings! At least she didn’t give me a bird head!”
“I almost considered it.” you chime in.
“Dove… that’s not right.” Touya continues to laugh, trying to stifle it behind his hand and control himself. “Grr… well what did you think of for Touya?”
You look into Touya’s eyes for a few seconds before answering. “Touya’s was pretty obvious to me, I think he’d control fire. But not regular fire, he’d be able to summon really strong blue fire from his hands. It’d be like crazy destructive because blue flames are the hottest, something to do with them being a complete combustion as opposed to other types of flames that are incomplete combustions. But because blue flames are so hot, it’d be a crazy bad drawback to Touya’s body because he’d overheat and he probably wouldn’t be able to fight for long because he needs to cool down.”
“Oh? No ice power for me to counteract overheating?” Touya asks, actually invested in your choice of conversation.
“Nah, it didn’t really seem fitting for you. Plus that’d be like a cheat because that means you get two powers while Keigo only gets one.”
“I’m good enough to have two fucking powers. But mine is better than Keigo’s anyway, way fucking cooler than having wings.”
“What? You’d rather be able to start forest fires over flying? My power is way more awesome, I get to fly and control all my feathers!” Keigo boasts about the fake powers you thought he’d have while you were high out of your mind a few times. “I say my powers are way better, I think I’d win in a fight against your stupid blue fire.”
Touya clicks his tongue and lets you leave his lap as you go to lie down on the grass in between them, looking back and forth between your two favorite boys. It’s cute that they’re getting so caught up in the conversation and actually debating who’s powers would be cooler. It almost makes them seem like they’re kids in elementary school.
“Obviously I have more power compared to your stupid chicken wings. You heard her, you wouldn’t be a strength type.”
“But I would have proficiency so that means my techniques would be perfected over just brute force.”
“I’d like to see how fucking proficient you are with your little shit feathers when I would just burn them off you.”
You have a feeling this debate would have gone over for a while if a few guys from the party hadn’t started calling Touya over. So he leans down to give you a kiss, intending for it to be quick but you grab the collar of his shirt, making out with him for a few seconds before he pries your hand off his collar and stands up. You whine when he starts walking away but you have Keigo as always to take care of you. “Keigo, gum please.”
“Alright spit out the old one here.” he tells you as he holds out the palm of his hand. He’s unbothered as the chewed gum lands in his palm, just tossing it somewhere over his shoulder and feeding you a new stick. “Well that was fun while it lasted. I’d have to come up with some counterpoints if this ever comes up again.”
“Mm-hmm… was fun listening to you guys.” you nod your head, quiet for a few seconds before moving onto something else. “I thought Touya was going to tell me he loved me a few days ago.” Keigo looks down at you, his hand coming to your forehead and his thumb rubbing smoothly just right above your eyebrow. It’s a weirdly comforting sensation and you hum in content. “I’m not upset that he didn’t say it but I think he said something that comes pretty close to it for the time being.”
Keigo nods his head, having had plenty of conversations with Touya in private and watching him struggle to articulate what exactly he feels for you. It’s good to know that he’s slowly getting better at being emotionally available for you. “What did he say to you (Name)?”
“It’s not like something crazy romantic, like a soliloquy or monologue from Shakespearean plays or whatever. It was really simple and it’s just the way he said it… it just kind of stirred something inside of me.” you sit up to look Keigo in his eyes. “He said he’d do anything for me.”
He leans forward, his forehead bumping against yours and his hand cupping your cheek. Your breaths intermingle in the small space between each other, your lips just a few precious centimeters away from Keigo’s. “Of course he would dove, you deserve so much. You’re just so… so fucking…”
Between you and Keigo, you’ve breached the line of platonic when you had that first threesome. It borders on romantic at times with still a hint of platonic, a certain fondness that Touya isn’t capable of. You think you might be in love with the both of them but you’re unable to measure exactly the distance of that love still. You’ve said ‘I love you’s’ while rolling but that’s what ecstasy does to everyone, makes a person love everything and everyone rather loosely.
Keigo dominates you in the kiss, different than the sensual make outs you’ve engaged in before. Ecstasy is more associated with deep emotions and sensuality rather than just sexual desire. But goddamn he’s getting hard in his pants and he wants to fuck you so bad and if you were just his, he wouldn’t mind just taking you right there on the spot. But you were Touya’s first and his friend would never tolerate letting you be seen naked by other people, would probably break his arm if he found out he tried such a thing. “Wanna get fucked song bird?”
You dumbly nod your head and spit out the gum were you chewing, already stroking the outline of his cock through his pants.
So Keigo pulls you to your feet and you’re unable to grab the water bottle that was brought with you outside. You try to tell him as he drags you back inside the house but he’s moving fast, probably so that no one will have a chance to see his dick print. You whine as he stops suddenly and push onto his back, and you’re about to whine at Keigo but then you’re on the move again. There are a few people upstairs, just drinking and chilling, probably a couple or two hooking up behind closed doors. You’re not certain if this is an Airbnb or if it really is someone’s home but you don’t ask any questions when you’re pulled into a random bedroom.
Normally you’d be very against having sex in someone else’s bedroom, a bathroom or in a closet of a house is fine, but you’re not really thinking about the consideration of who’s bed this might belong to. Not while you’re getting undressed and desperate for Keigo to keep on kissing you as he pushed you on the bed, bent over it and ass out. You fists the sheets in your hands when you feel his mouth against your pussy and eating you out, you feel like you’re wetter than usual and you think it might be from the ecstasy, you never really thought about it the few times you had Touya fucked while rolling. You’ve had friends tell you that they’ve struggled to have sex while rolling but it’s never been a problem for you so far.
“Keigo… Kei, it’s so good.” you whimper as you reach behind and spread your ass cheeks for him. It encourages something new, Keigo’s tongue licking up from your pussy and circling the tip of his tongue against your asshole. Touya’s played with it and fucked your ass before but he’s never actually eaten your ass. So it’s definitely new as Keigo spits on your tight rim and licks you up and down. “Oh god…”
You can hear knocking on the door but your blissed out brain prevents you from being embarrassed about the position you’re in. Keigo can just tell whoever is on the other side to go away.
“Fucking hell, my horny little princess just wants to be stuffed so much. We just fucked last night and you wanna go again?”
“Touya…” You move to sit on the edge of the bed and open your arms to him. “How did you know we were here?”
Touya doesn’t hug you like you hoped he would, he just pushes you to lie back on the bed as he shrugs off his jacket and undoes his belt. “Keigo said you want to get fucked, stopped by me while you were on your way up here and told me to come by in five minutes so I’m here to do that.”
“Thought you were busy…”
“Oh? You don’t want me here?”
The thought of Touya leaving makes you sit up and whine petulantly. “No! No, I want you here! I want the both of you to fuck me!”
“That’s our little whore, always hungry for cock.”
You nod in enthusiastic agreement.
“Let’s make it quick, shouldn’t be in here too long.”
Keigo gets to go first, spreading your legs and making you lie on your back. Your pussy flutters around his cock, groaning when his hips are pressed against your ass. He holds your legs up, ankles in his hand as he starts fucking you. Everything feels so good ecstasy, especially sex as you’re swimming in a warm pool of orgasmic water. When you look up into his golden eyes, it almost makes him falter. He drops your legs and hovers his body over you, his arms braced just above your head as you share eye contact with one another. Everything feels heightened, the pleasure and the fondness for Keigo rises. “You feel good Kei…feel fucking good…”
His cock is bottoming out and you mewl even louder, body feeling feverish but you feel no urge to want to cool down. He talks so much about how pretty you are and that you’re such an angel, all sugar sweet and sentimental. “I wanna eat out this sweet cunt and fuck you until you don’t have anymore goddamn thoughts in your pretty little head.” he’s panting, looks like he won’t last much longer because shit it’s all so overwhelming. Keigo is all you can feel and all you want in this moment. His movements are desperate, pounding you so hard the bed creaks. “My pretty baby bird— fuck!”
You had reached up to his shoulders and dragged your nails down his back and it drives Keigo mad, his eyes briefly rolling to the back of his head but regaining his composure long enough to drive himself into you. You cum, of course you cum, but now you know what it’s like to get fucked by Keigo while rolling. His cock pulses as he finishes in you, thick ropes of semen stuffing you full. When he pulls out, it leaks out onto the bedsheets and you should be more mindful because this might be someone’s bed but you can’t bring yourself to care.
It’s Touya’s turn as he takes Keigo’s place and throws your legs over his shoulders to start brutally pounding you with an enthusiasm that matched Keigo’s but not the same sentimentality. He slides in easily thanks to the cum that was already stuffed in you and doesn’t waste any time. This fucking isn’t exactly kind, Touya isn’t rolling like how you are, but you’ll take any kind of fucking from him in this moment. There’s no sweet words from him, it’s all filth; “So goddamn horny all the damn time, I swear you could be a professional whore with how much you love getting dicked down. You just love being a fucking sex doll, you fucking live for getting your pussy stuffed with cum until it overflows out of you and even then you’ll beg for more!”
You want to scratch Touya’s back too, he loves the pain of your nails making him bleed, but he’s standing up right away from you. Even as you beg for him to come closer so that you can hold him, you can see that he has no intention of giving you what you want. So you have one hand playing with your tits and the other on your clit as Touya uses you shamelessly, wailing as he pummels his cock into you.
The music downstairs is loud but you wonder if you’re louder than it, maybe the people downstairs can hear you screaming how you love cock and that you’re cumming all over Touya’s cock.
He’s panting hard as reaches a hand forward and chokes you while he cums… hard. It’s surprising to see Touya with so little composure, he really must have enjoyed himself.
“Fucking hell, you realized how much you were cumming and what a slut you sounded like? I could barely— fucking hold myself together.” he pants, wiping sweat off his brow and kissing your ankle before setting your legs down. “Fuck… I need water.”
Lucky for you guys, the room you entered has an en suite so you can just drink straight from the faucet instead of wobbling downstairs to get a fresh bottle.
The boys are able to recuperate faster but you still need a few minutes so you tell them you’ll meet them downstairs. After a much needed potty break, you splash your face with cool water and then cup your palms together for it to pool in your hands, leaning down to sip from it. It’s refreshing, quenches your throat and cools you off a bit. Looking into the mirror, you see that your pupils are still as big as dinner plates and you smile at your own reflection. “Fun…”
Another drink of water from the faucet and you decide it’s time to exit the room, getting dressed and smoothing down your hair the best you can. When you open the door to leave, you’re taken aback to see your ex on the other side. He looks the same like the last time you saw him, though he gels his hair a little bit differently now. He looks unsteady on his feet, probably drunk, so you steady your hands on his shoulders and help him inside. “Jun…”
“Whoa… (Name), sorry I didn’t know you were in here. Was lookin’ for an empty room to take a nap…” he explains himself, leaning some of his weight against your body. You help him to sit at the computer chair by the desk in the room. “I can fin’ another room.”
“Ah no, I was just leaving. Just um… I wouldn’t go on the bed.” There’s an obvious wet spot on the bed from where you had cum, Keigo and Touya’s semen leaking out in globs out of your pussy before you cleaned up. “And maybe air out the room too.”
“Yeah, smells like your pussy, all sweet and sunshine. Makes me nostalgic.”
You don’t know what to say to that; clearly he knows that you just got fucked.
Sure you missed Jun at one point in your life, but since being with Touya he hasn’t really crossed your mind since. You look at him, thinking that there was a time that you really wanted to make it work with him but that feeling was long gone now. So you move to open the window for him to clear out smell of sex… and your pussy apparently. “Okay well… I’m gonna go downstairs. Have a good nap.”
“Hey, stay here for a little. Let’s talk.”
Even though you’re rolling, you know that’s not a good idea. “You look tired and my boyfriend is waiting downstairs.”
Jun looks at you, relaxing against the computer chair and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. “You talking about Dabi? When I heard he got a main girl I was pretty surprised, he used to have a roster of bitches. Then I heard that it was you and I got even more surprised, didn’t think he’d be your type of guy.”
With a mere shrug of your shoulders, you just tell Jun that it’s been working out well between you and Touya, careful to not use his real name.
“Yeah? Things are good? You ever talk about me?” Jun asks as he taps his feet on the floor. “Or you busy getting double teamed with his friend Takami? Can’t talk if one of them is stuffing your mouth while the other plows you from behind.”
If you didn’t know Jun then you would be offended by his words, but that’s his mannerism of speaking when he’s drunk. So you take it in stride and evenly answer, “You came up a few times in the beginning, that’s it.”
Jun nods his head, swivels back and forth in the chair while his head lolls side to side. “You high or something? Got this weird look on your face I’ve never seen on you before.”
“I’m on ecstasy right now.”
“No shit, really? I thought you were all anti-drugs and all that? At least you were when I was seeing you, I guess Dabi turned you huh.”
You sigh and lean against the wall, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “I was against hard core drugs like meth or heroin or PCP… I still am against that kind of stuff. A little bit of ecstasy and coke every so often doesn’t hurt me. I’m not cracked out or popping tablets to the point my body can’t produce serotonin anymore.”
“Mm… I see. So you tried new things since the last time I saw you huh?” Jun sits straighter in the chair, leaning his elbow on the arm rest and resting his cheek in his palm. “Ecstasy, coke… threesomes.”
Jun looks at you, seems to be scrutinizing you under his gaze. “You’re not the only person to be hooking up on this floor. But when I was looking for a room to nap in, I passed by this one and I recognized your voice on the other side. Thought it was just you and Dabi at first but I could hear a third person in there and figured it was Takami ‘cause he’s the only person your man likes to hang around. I guess now that you tell me that you’re rolling, it makes sense why you were enjoying yourself so much. I’ve fucked on ecstasy before too, feels pretty fantastic.”
You stand a little straighter and look down at Jun. “Right… well you seriously look exhausted so I better-”
“I realized a couple months after you left why you broke up with me. I realized I was kind of fucked up when I was with you and you didn’t deserve it. You were nice back then, wanted to be with me so bad and I didn’t see it. Any guy who wanted to settle down, you would be the right person to do all that stuff with. You were like the girl next door, perfect to bring home to meet mom and dad. But the way you are now…” Jun stands up from the chair and saunters up to you. “You just looking to get stuffed with cock these days? You really a whore like Dabi said you were? You must be if you’re fucking him and Takami.”
“You’re drunk Jun, don’t say stuff that’s going to make things bad between us. This could be a chance for us to start over.” you press him, not wanting to get into this conversation. “We didn’t exactly leave on good terms so we can build something different now.”
“Different huh? Things sure are different now, you’ve got Dabi to do all your nagging to now right? Or maybe he’s fucked you into a mindless whore that only thinks about getting dicked down.”
You huff and clench your jaw harder than it’s already doing because of the drugs, glaring at your annoying ex boyfriend. “So what? You listened to Dabi’s dirty talk like a pervy little voyeur?” It’s hard to gather up your guts when you’re on ecstasy and honestly a little hard to concentrate but you definitely won’t let yourself be talked down like that and you won’t allow yourself to take this kind of abuse. “You’re a bitch.”
His hand goes for your throat and you’re thrown hard against the wall, stress on your windpipe making you gasp and fingernails dig into your neck. This takes you back to the break up when you did the exact same thing to him; the irony is definitely not lost on you. But even with Jun’s threatening hand around your throat you gasp out, “You’re a pussy.”
“This is kind of like how our break up happened except you’re the one against the wall. How does it feel to be choked on ecstasy? Feel good? Miss my hands?” he asks, liquor heavy on his breath. “You used to be so nice, you know that?”
You’re strangling me you asshole.
If only there was enough pressure lifted off your throat to tell him that, weakly grabbing at his wrist and trying to tug him off.
But it’s a very lucky thing for you that Touya likes to keep tabs on you because you recognize the sound of his boots approaching the door, wondering what’s taking you so damn long. If he sees Jun like this, he’ll for sure beat his ass or worse. Even though you hate him so much in this moment, you’d rather not put Jun or Touya through that kind of thing. So you wheeze out to him the best you can, “Let go… he’s coming…”
The door swings open as Jun takes his hand back and you lower your head down.
“The fuck’s taking you so long doll…” Touya’s voice drifts as he looks at Jun when he enters the room and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see in your imagination that he’s got suspicion in those turquoise blue eyes of his. “Friend of yours?”
What you remember about Jun is that he doesn’t have a lot of tact, that it’d be smarter in this situation to just say, ‘yes, we’re friends.’ After all, Touya doesn’t know his face so he could get away with that and just be on his way. But he’s such a smug shit when he tells Touya, “I’m her ex-boyfriend, Jun. The guy before you, you know? We were just catching up a little, right (Name)?”
“Mm…” you hum, going to Touya for a hug and hiding your face in his chest. Despite the apathetic expression he’s sporting, you can tell that he’s a little disgruntled with Jun already. “Yeah, just catching up. It’s hot in here…”
Touya pets the top of your head and tells you to go to downstairs, prepared to walk down with you but Jun stops him with a question. “Dabi right? Before you go, I was wondering if you happen to have any 2CB I can score? Or maybe another connect I could go to?”
You walk alone out of the room as Touya stays behind to do business with Jun. Keigo waits by the foot of the stairs and when your feet touch the ground floor, you hug him and tell him that you want a drink. “Okay dove, I saw them making another jungle juice so I’ll get you a cup.”
An hour passes and you’re surprised that Touya is going about his business and Jun is mingling with the set of friends he came to the party with. You figure that probably nothing happened despite your ex’s snarky introduction to your boyfriend. Keigo has you in his lap and you’ve been curled against his body since coming back from the room while Keigo is happily chatting with a fellow classmate from one of his lab’s. He’s got one hand around on your thigh and the other massaging the back of your back. It feels good but hurts a little at certain spots and you’re not sure why.
It’s getting close to three and the party is dwindling down, hyped up drinking has turned into chill sipping and the music plays mellow hiphop beats. Last you saw Jun he was standing in the kitchen when you went to go get more water, not sparing him any of your attention as he took a shot of whiskey and chased it with cola. Touya will be done soon, three in the morning is usually his cut off if he hasn’t taken anything to keep him awake.
“Alright you two, let’s get going.” Touya stifles a yawn as he walks up to you, nodding passively at a random party goer that greets him.
You stand up from Keigo’s lap and smooth down your shirt, frowning down at the wrinkles and thinking that you have to go through the trouble of ironing it. “My neck kinda hurts for some reason, I don’t know why.”
“Really? I’ve been massaging you but you haven’t said anything dove. Let me see…” Keigo stands behind you and plants his hands on your shoulders, pushing the pads of his thumbs up into the muscles at the back of your neck. “Is it here?”
“No… more like in the front?”
“(Name), lift your head up. Look at the ceiling for me.” Touya tells you, his voice sounding hard for some reason when it was just a little tired a few seconds ago.
You don’t know what they’re seeing when you look up but you hear a growl from Touya and a gasp from Keigo. “Jesus dude, did you have to choke her that hard?”
“I fucking didn’t.” Touya turns sharply on his heel and walks fast. Suddenly he’s a man on a mission and Keigo is after him and asking what had happened. You take your phone out of your pocket and use the front facing camera to see what they were talking about. You see what they were seeing; purple bruises around your neck in the shape of a handprint.
Jun is fucking dead.
#dabi x reader#todoroki touya x reader#takami keigo x reader#takami x reader#hawks x reader#bnha x reader#bnha#tw drugs#tw toxic relationship#tw assault#dabi smut#hawks smut#us series
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Problem One: The Screen(s) and Digital Workspace
Part one of my multi-part doc about what I learned from doing online college at a non-online institution. This chapter: my Desktop as a Desk
Highlighted points: learning styles, work type/function in relation to the computer
My biggest problem with being pushed online after being at an in-person institution was, and still is, my forced reliance on the computer. I have to sit in front of it for hours: attending classes on Zoom; checking email every three hours; accessing Moodle pages for class and out-of-class work (Moodle is what my institution uses, other web management/e-learning software platforms include PowerLearning, Blackboard, and OU Campus, among others). And the work itself can be watching documentaries, watching seminars, accessing ebook/PDF documents, annotating documents in online portals… it's a lot. People have talked at length about "zoom fatigue," as well as the eyestrain headaches that can come with staring at said screens for hours at a time. I'll talk about my own lessons learned about that later.
The assumption among the administrators and (some) people of older generations than those currently in school seems to be that working online with computers and smartphones is more efficient. That isn't necessarily true; it all depends on the type of task and the person being expected to complete it. In my case, I cannot, for the life of me, focus on dense sections of text presented on a backlit screen. Thus, reading and answering emails is okay, but downloading scanned textbook pages to be read on a laptop screen (along with trying to highlight and annotate them) is hell on earth.
Why is this? Different reasons for different people, but in my case it's because reading/"writing" on a screen interferes with my learning style(s), which are visual/spatial, audio, and kinetic. Audio doesn't come into play for reading on a screen, but seeing words physically in a certain location relative to other words on a page is very important to my memory of the material. Computer screens can display pretty much anything at any given time; book pages can only display whatever was permanently printed onto them. That is, the content of a book page in physical space will always be the same unless you, the reader, manipulate it; a computer screen can have any type of content displayed as long as its pixels can light up and process the information. And for me, that's a problem because I don't have any physical space to relate the information to, plus I don't get a sense of how long the document is. Recalling a passage in a printout, for me, goes like this: "I remember it was on the top-left of a page towards the beginning, the shape of the paragraph was funny too… ah, there it is." Recalling a passage on a digital scan of the same document is much harder for me by contrast: literally any of the paragraphs could have made its way to the top-left of my computer screen, if I moved the window around or zoomed in to better read the text; documents are an endless scroll upward or downwards, with (maybe) a sidebar to tell me what page I've landed on. All of my "landmarks" are functions of the program I am using to access the document. They're static and contained to a window... that can show up anywhere on my computer screen. Not conducive to the way I learn at all.
My kinetic learning style comes into play with the computer, too. Annotating a document? In the physical world, a pen on the document itself does the trick; going through the physical movement of circling a word or making a note are things that solidify the information in my mind. Annotating a PDF document? First of all, it's difficult to do with a mouse (and God help you if you have a trackpad), and it's highly dependent on the program that the user selects to open the PDF. I could connect a drawing tablet, if I have one, but they're very expensive and their use is, again, dependent on the compatibility with whatever reader program the user selects. All this to say: annotating on the computer doesn't work for me, either. My kinetic and visual learning styles come together with note-taking. My memory is highly dependent on seeing words as they are formed by my own hand, processing them, and connecting meaning to them as they sit in a specific place on the page (am I over-explaining this? Basically, writing notes by hand and seeing where those notes are on a piece of paper help me remember them). Typing notes isn't a replacement for hand-writing notes for me; while I'm busy fixing my typos (on words I would never misspell on paper, usually, since my fingers are just moving weirdly over the keys), the professor moves on, and I'm not listening well enough to catch the fact that I've missed new information.
The takeaway here is figure out your individual types of work relate to being on the computer. As I said, the computer hinders many aspects of my learning when it comes to memory and efficiency. As a creative tool, however, it has almost the opposite effect; writing assignments for fiction, poetry, and screenwriting classes are much more efficient on the computer. From creative thought to keystroke, I have less time to second-guess or forget my ideas, and both the immediacy and changeability of word processing programs actually works in my favor for those sorts of things.
What I did differently from first online semester to second:
1) I figured out which materials helped me remember my notes the best. Honestly, I wasn't even doing this when I was at in-person college, and to my detriment, but I couldn't get away with it at all once I went fully remote. Think back to when you were in lower levels of school: were there certain types of materials you gravitated towards in the classroom? Did you like basic composition notebooks with faint blue lines? Wide-ruled or college-ruled paper? Did you discover that graph paper just worked really nicely with all notes besides math, or that blank pages were less busy for your eyes? When you used pens, did you prefer blue or black ink, or did colored ink help certain things stick? If you can control what materials you use to take notes with, consider using ones akin to those from a class you either a) remembered the most fondly or b) remembered the most information from. Scour your memories of class experiences for anything, no matter how small, that may have made your life easier. Equally, take note of what tasks actually worked well digitally. Adjust accordingly.
(Personally, I found my magic formula was a 1-subject memorandum notebook — marginless, with very narrow line rulings; while I hesitate to direct you to Amazon, they are hard to find at a decent price otherwise, and you can get a 12 pack for just over $40 from them — with black ink from a 0.38-size gel pen (I used a basic Pilot G2 pen until it ran out, then bought ink refills in the smaller size). To "highlight" my notes, I circled or underlined information with a blue gel pen of the same variety. Keep in mind again that I'm learning to be a translator; this is just what works for me.)
2) If I needed to print something out, I printed it out. Environmental guilt is something I struggled with a lot, and there was always something about staying on the computer that convinced me I was being "less wasteful" by staying digital. But with how much time and energy I ultimately saved reading a printed document that can be recycled vs the electricity I ate up spinning my wheels in front of the ebook… to me, it was worth it. If you find that helps you, too, don't be ashamed to print certain things out.
(If conserving ink and paper is a concern to you, it is possible in some viewing/editing apps to remove or cover images, either with white squares or by taking the images out completely. I have an old MacBook Pro and on current versions of Preview, one can draw shapes and fill them in white to cover parts of the scan that would eat up ink, such as blurred black borders and scanned images. For documents in a word processing program like Microsoft Word or Pages, it may also be possible to print the documents out at a smaller size, allowing more text or even multiple pages to show up on a single sheet of paper.)
| In the coming days/weeks I hope to be posting more content about how I tried to adapt to fully remote learning and the things I’ve learned along the way! Follow for updates ♥︎ |
#college#university#online#online learning#school#online school#online university#online college#covid#covid 19#studyblr#student#students#blog#writing#my writing#narrative nonfiction#nonfiction#narrative#advice#language#language major#liberal arts#liberal arts college#creative writing#computer#computers#screen#screens#screentime
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Shades of self-empowerment
Self-empowerment.
A word as weighty as a planet on the page.
Many moons ago, when the passage of time hadn’t yet made my patience wane, I would have approached writing about this differently. I’d have spewed statistics, and I’d have de-glamorised the ghosts of Disney princesses lingering in our collective imagination, and I’d have championed examples of women embracing life boldly, in the face of society's pressure to ‘finally’ find their Prince Charming. That was my perspective of self-empowerment when I was younger.
Maybe I’d have told funny, ‘relatable’ anecdotes about the aunties who routinely question us, ever laden with expectation. Each sparkling wedding we attend, a reminder of the tradition, the destined next chapter, the perfect chapatti-round circle of life... and a partner with plenty of dough too 🤑 But I’d have gladly shunned society’s pressure in my quest for self-empowerment. I’d remember to celebrate ourselves, all of us, married or not. Single life is something to be cherished, and marriage is something chosen to enrich life.
However, today, self-empowerment is a little more complex than that for me. Lots of us have a natural inclination wishing to ‘complete half our deen’, society’s pressure aside. It’s essential for us to put our trust in the Creator and have patience, embracing the divine wisdom that everything has a reason and an appointed time, meanwhile enjoying all the beauty and joy that the world offers.
#muslim marriage#muslim matrimony#muslim women#islamic positivity#muslimlife#islamiclife#islamicreminders#islamicpost#islamic#muslim#islam#muslim girl problems#muslim girl#spirit
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Humans are Space Orcs, “Put Down Your Weapons.”
I think some of you had suggested something similar to me at one point, but I ran in a different direction with it, I hope you like.
“Hey calm down, you get any more excited and you are going to jump through the roof.
Sunny turned her head down at him rather scathingly, “If i told you that ever time you got excited, we would never talk about anything else.” Ahead of them, the line shifted a little bit forward, bodies pressed together in a great clamour to get inside. Voices were raised, and --even from out here-- they could hear the raring of the Crowds.
Sunny bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet as they made their way the last few feet to the gate.
A human attendant was waiting for them holding some kind of scanning machines, “Tickets.” He prompted
Adam grinned and pulled two tickets from his pocket, “Make that VIP.”
The man looked over the tickets with surprise, raising an eyebrow, “You could have come through the VIP entrance.”
Adam frowned, “Uh, I didn’t know they had one.” The man shrugged, scanned their tickets and then waved them through. Sunny practically skipped through as Adam followed after. THey wandered through the bowels of the massive concrete stadium for a few minutes, where, on all sides there were booths of souvenirs, food, and drinks.
Adam took the time to buy Sunny a souvenir before they made their way up and into the Stadium, pushing down through the benches to where their seats were, right at the front before the caged arena.
Medical crews were busy setting up around the outside of the cage.
Sunny took her seat in excitement.
Adam leaned down hand on her shoulder, forced to get close to her ear so he could talk over the roaring of the crowd, “I need to find a bathroom, but I’ll be back.”
She nodded barely turning her head to look at him as he stood and made his way back up the dark steps and back onto the concourse where the crowds were only growing more dense.
He pushed his way through trying to determine where someone might hide a bathroom.
He felt like it should be this hard with so many people, but didn’t see anything. Granted a few times he got distracted by something interesting and had to go see, but eventually he saw a small hallway just off the concourse, and determined that that was as good a place as any took look. There was no one in the little passage, but that didn’t really strike him as odd as he made his way down the stairs.
That led him into another long hallway, which was also dark and devoid of people. He was growing suspicious that maybe this wasn’t the right way to go, when a light just up ahead caught his attention, shining off a tile floor.
Ah there it was!
He hurried forward in relief finishing his business and intending to go back upstairs when a voice echoed at him from the hallway.
“They WHAT!”
“I’m s-s-rry sir t-they canceled and w… w-w-w.”
“Oh shut up!” THe other voice snarled. We don’t have time for this. There is an entire crowd out there just waiting for us, and now you're telling me that they had to cancel.”
“I…. we have other options sir.”
“None as good as we promised.” The man shot back
Adam looked nervously around the room he was standing in peeking around the concrete corner and into a large locker room.
Whoopse.
This was…. Not a public bathroom.
That was ok thought, no harm no fowl and he could just walk out quietly without anyone being the wiser.
He went to turn around and nearly leaped out of his skin almost running into a young man and a spiffy suit, “What are you doing-” The young man’s voice trailed off at the last moment and his eyes grew wide in recognition. A mix of expressions crossed his face before it hardened. He grabbed Adam by the arm, “Come with me, sir.”
Adam opened his mouth to protest, but was hauled around the corner to where the other two men were standing, and they cut off as he did.
“What is-”
“Who-”
The men must have recognized him at approximately the same time.
The young man aggressively held up Adam’s hand, turning it to show the back, “I think we will be ok.”
Adam yelped in pain and snatched his hand back, “Hey, what’s the big idea.”
The one man, who he assumed to be the boss looked him over, “Say yes.”
It was at that moment that Adam’s brain went and did that thing that it sometimes did when he was nervous or caught off guard…. That being that it just shut off and decided to take a vacation. He had gotten to the point where it no longer did that in combat, but in social situations it just went and shut right off.
For that reason, he stuttered around for a few seconds before his brain did the only thing it could at the present moment, “Y-yes?”
The man clapped his hands, “Excellent!”
He grabbed Adam by the arm and hauled him back into the dark with Adam only lightly protesting, to confused to do anything else.
Krill was going to be pissed if he got kidnapped again.
Was this a kidnapping?
He couldn’t tell.
Why was he so stupid? By the time he had begun asking himself that question they were already in a little dark room just off the side, a bunch of attendants ran forward and before he knew what was going on there, one of them had pulled off his jacket, and another had taken a pair of scissors to his shirt.
He yelped in indignation and protest, but before he could do anything about it, the rest had gotten to work, and he was suddenly shoved back. He expected to hit the wall but instead he heard a sharp whirring noise and there was a sudden shock of cold through his body as the Iron eye suit clicked into place at the base of his spine. His feet and arms were pressed back clicking repeatedly up and down his arms as the implants were connected.
Someone grabbed his hand and fitted the the bracer around his wrists, fitting his fingers into the sockets of the hand piece.
The man stepped forward, “Thank you for volunteering Admiral, you may just have saved the night.”
Adam’s head was clearing now, “Now hold the fuck on, I didn’t agree to anything.”
The younger man moved forward, “Actually you agreed verbally, you said yes. He held up a piece of paper, “Now this is your contract. A single night a single fight, your debut fight against the slayer.”
“The WHO?” He squeaked
There was another sharp whirring noise as the iron-eye suit was hooked to the power source -- his leg--, and he felt the machine as it booted up.
More attendants moved forward to socket large armor plating into palace.
“Now the rules are simple, no eye gouging shots below the belt, or headshots, also not headbutting or neck twisting.”
“Wait! What!”
HE struggled, but the iron eye armor held him fast, having not been engaged yet.
The armor plates retraced and slid into a large line along his back, leaving his chest, arms and legs exposed for the time being.
“Try to make it a good fight, Admiral, the people are counting on you.”
“Counting on you to lose fantastically, but fantastically being the key word .”
The men stepped back, and there was a subtle whirring. He jolted forward as the mounted iron eye armor was pulled on rails across the ceiling and towards a door on the far wall. His eyes were wide, and he screamed for help, but the closer he got to the door the louder he could hear the cheering.
He paused for a second in front of the door.
“And now let's welcome our challenger! A special treat for the audience, you all know him, you all love him. Protector of Earth, Knight of the GA, please welcome ADMIRAL VIR” The doors opened, and he had to turn his head against the bright light. The room was filled with gasps and then an eruption of cheering.
As his eyes adjusted, he looked up at the crowd trying to scream for help, though no one heard him.
He turned his head desperately searching the crowd for Sunny. He found her easily enough, as her seat was close. He tried to scream for help, but by the look on her face and the clapping of her hands he was horrified to see that she probably assumed he did this on purpose.
He tried yelling again but it was no use.
“And now the moment you have all been waiting for. Please help me to welcome back our reigning champion, mistress of mayhem, duchess of destruction, countess of calamity. Your reigning champion THE SLAYER!”
At the far end of the cage, he watched in shock, awe and, terror as the doors opened. Even over the roaring of the crowd he could hear the whirring of the iron eye suit before he saw it, could hear the clattering of metal boots against they round, and then watched wide eyed as the woman stormed onto the floor screaming and bellowing like an animal her arms raised into the air as the crowd absolutely lost their minds.
She circled the ring fists raised, and in that time he noticed….. One missing arm, and one missing leg.
His heart stopped in his chest.
He…. he recognized her.
He didn’t know her name, but he KNEW that face, he had SEEN her in the triage tent during the Drev war.
She was one of the steel-eye soldiers.
“Now everyone stand back from the cage. There was a sudden crackling noise and he watched in awe as the chain link was suddenly sparking with power, and a blue purple barrier flashed into existence, technology he recognized as cruel shielding.
That shielding had originally been designed to protect spaceships from high speed impacts. What kind of fight were they expecting?
He felt a jolt, and staggered forward as the suit was released and powered on giving control over to him.
“Make it a clean fight kids.”
He was about to try and run to the edge of the cage and scream for help, but at that moment, he heard a sharp metal crack and turned around to see that the slayer’s armor was down, and she was racing towards him.
He just had time to engage the steel plates which snapped down over his body before she was on him, punching him in the chest with an impact that would have killed him.
He was knocked backwards slamming to the ground and rolling over once with the power of the impact.
The crowd cheered and ooohed.
He rolled onto his back just in time to see her coming at him again, and through the orange-tinted visor of the helmet she could see the look on her face, an expression of pure rage.
She drew back her leg and slammed it down. He rolled to the side as he foot cracked against the floor. He pressed his hand against the floor pushing hard up and sending himself sailing through the air the servo motors and hydraulics roared as he used a single arm to toss himself up right.
He landed in a stagger and turned just in time to see her coming at him again. He dodged once and then twice as her fists blazed past him.
The crowd screamed.
She kept coming her rage coming out in her punches and kicks, powerful and continual with no stopping, but sloppy choosing quantity over quality.
He dodged to the right spring loading his legs and then threw his upward power into an uppercut punch that would have taken her head off if there was no armor. She was lifted nearly two feet off the ground with the power of his punch, and the clatter of metal on metal blasted through the stadium, She fell back slamming into the floor as the crowd roared.
He came after her, throwing himself over her and raising his fist back, punching at her shoulders and chest. Metal squealed.
Behind her visor, she roared, and somehow managed to bring her leg up.
He was kicked so hard in the chest, he thought for a moment his ribcage had been broken. It was such a powerful kick that it sent him across the ring and slamming into the barrier. There was a burst of bright blue as the shields flared.
His mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to suck in air, though his diaphragm would not cooperate.
Using her hands and pushing back against the ground, she flipped herself into the air and back ont other feet before running at him.
He rolled to the side as her fist slammed against the barrier sending another wave of blue up and around them.
He kicked upward from the ground, hitting one of her hips and sending HER backward into the shields.
It didn’t knock her over, but now they were both on their feet.
The next time they connected, it was with the sound of thunder as the Iron eye armor drove the two of them to greater feets of strength and aggression. The surge of puer adrenaline and power that the suit afforded it’s user had sent them both into a frenzy.
At every moment he couldn't be sure if he was seeing the red ashen sky of anin, or the blue barrier of the cage.
He screamed, catching her a devastating body shot, but the slayer came back with a knee to his chest and he skidded back across the floor. They were fifteen feet apart now. There was barely a pause before the two of them leaped towards each other soaring into the air and slamming up against each other with a thunderous clatter. His Kick hit first, a devastating shot to the pelvis that thrashed her back against the cage before slamming face first into the ground. HE hit the ground with an impact that should have broken his legs, but inside liquid shock absorbers protected his very human body.
He stormed forward as she rolled to her hands and knees.
Something was sparking and the plate above her right thigh was cracked
That didn’t stop her and from her knees she lunged forward grabbing him around the waist and sending the two of them rolling across the cage exchanging punches and blows.
He hit his back and she drew back her fists repeatedly punching at his armor. He looked up as she hammered against the armor. He heard the screaming, animalistic, desperate, choking…. The same noises he himself had made on Anin…. Likeshe had never escaped that battleground.
But it was the expression on her face that did it for him. The eyes somewhere far away, the lips twisted into an expression of pain,
He grew sick, and the anger faded away from him replaced with cold clarity like he had been doused with ice.
With his newfound clarity, he pulled back and used both arms to slam into her chest. She was thrown backward, and he rose to his feet, his chest armor sparking and dented.
She raced towards him again, but he used the reinforced forearms to block her punches with ease.
The more he blocked her the angrier she grew until her fighting, while horrifically powerful was no more than desperate swinging.
His eyes fell on the power source.
Her left leg, opposite to his.
It wasn’t Steel eye, a good facsimile, but not perfect.
And with all the power he had he snapped in a sharp circle delivering a low round kick to the side of her prosthetic knee.
His suspicion of it not being steel eye was proven correct as the entire leg absolutely exploded under the impact of a real steel-eye prosthetic. Metal erupted in all directions peppering the cage with little flashes of blue light while the lower half of the limb was snapped cleanly in half. The sound it made was horrendous. As soon as her power source was destroyed she felt to the ground helpless.
The crowd sat in stunned silence for a moment before an eruption of cheers rose around them
He stood unsteadily on his feet shaking slightly.
He could hear the roaring of the announcer overhead proclaiming his victory but he only had eyes for her as, with a sharp hissing the suit plates pulled back, and the plugs were released. She ripped herself away from the armor, leaving it like a shell on the ground behind her. Without a leg she was left on her hands and knees.
She was so small, probably no more than five foot four to his six two.
Her hands were pulled into gnarled claws fingers digging into the floor below her, She forced herself to her feet with one arm and hopped and staggered her way from the arena holding onto the wall with her hands.
While the cheering was still going, he ignored it and followed after her. With a simple thought, the panels opened up before him, and the connections released, allowing him to walk out of the suit in a way that he could never have walked away from a steel eye.
He followed after her the cheering echoing in his head closed off as the door hissed shut behind him.
He found her sitting on a bench in what must have been the women’s locker room her head in her hands shaking violently like a leaf. He felt her pain shaking himself like he hadn’t done in ages as the post traumatic stress reared its ugly head woken from its dormancy.
He took a few deep breaths and walked over to sit next to her.
She was curled up her arms around herself.
He didn’t try to touch her, he knew it would only startle her
When she esteemed finally to calm down after long minutes, he felt his own voice raspy and strained, “I am…. So sorry I…. I didn’t agree to this.”
“Than you're a coward.” She hissed
Her words didn’t sting, and when she looked up he saw her eyes tormented and in pain.
It made him sick. He reached out a hand placing it on her shoulder.
She locked eyes with him, and he saw something in hers that he had seen in the mirror years ago. It made him hurt to see it. He had barely survived that pain, and here she was carrying it years later, far longer than him.
He couldn't help himself, He reached out and hugged her, hugged her tight, “I know what you’re feeling.” He said
She didn’t struggle against him, and instead he felt warm tears drip onto his skin, “Why won’t it go away.” She whispered, “Why won't the pain go away. I’m so scared and angry all the time and I can't…. Let it go. It's like I can’t breathe. Every day I just say, if I can just beat one more person, if I can just prove to myself that I am the strongest, that nothing can hurt me than maybe I won’t be so afraid.”
He patted her back with one hand and listened.
Her words were familiar, and her pain brought tears to his own eyes which he didn’t bother to fight. That wasn’t the point, this was about feeling someone else’s pain, not proving how strong he was.
When she looked back at him, both of their faces were streaked with tears.
She seemed surprised, “How did you do it….. How did you get away.”
He paused and there was silence for a moment, “Because of a dog.... And because I…. stopped trying to fight. Fighting is a reaction of a body who is scared, can’t be scared of something you are friends with.”
She looked up at him surprised and in pain, “You’re a braver man than me.”
Just then the door at the opposite end of the room was thrown open and she stormed in, “Adam, Adam are you alright.”
The slayer…. For he didn’t know her name, took one look at Sunny and tried leaping to her feet eyes wide in anger and fear.” Sunny pulled to a halt and Adam grabbed her hand.
“Calm down, stop! She’s with me.”
The slayer shot him an accusatory glance quickly wiping tears from her face, “HOW COULD YOU! HOW COULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH A SCARAB” She snarled
Adam felt his ears go red, “DON’T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT.”
“HOW COULD YOU.:
“BECAUSE I LOVE HER!”
The words had passed from his lips before he even realized what he had said. And he clapped a hand over his mouth even as the room went silent. The slayer stared at him wide eyed.
He knew what he had done. He took her arms, “Look, I…. I know what you might be thinking but, it's more complicated. After the war I was a broken man, but I had a good support system, I got a dog and I calmed down enough to go back to work. For a little while I volunteered at an oxy clinic. There was a Drev there who had been injured during the war, and I…. I had to face my fears.” he paused, “We got along really well, and then I met sunny…. I tried to kill her at first, but then we saved each other’s lives a time or two. I spent some time with a Drev clan, learning about the war from their side. I’m Sentinel of a Drev clan now and I know their language.”
He stood, “Sure, I’ll never get away from the war completely, but I think I have gone as far as I can go, and I think you can too.”
The woman paused, and he expected anger, but she looked too tired to express anger and simply sat staring at Sunny.
He wasn’t sure what they would do, but then, to his surprise, Sunny stepped forward, her footsteps very cautious. When she got closer she knelt on the ground so she was no taller than the slayer. Her movements were slow.
“My name is Sunny, my father died during the war and my brother was permanently crippled. My clan was all but destroyed.” She paused then, “What is your name.”
The slayer paused, “Jane, my name is Jane.” Then with one shaking hand she reached out.
Sunny took the offered hand gently, her hand steady, “You are a true warrior Jane, but perhaps it is time to put down your weapons.”
All three of them nearly jumped out of their skin as the door flew open at the other end of the room.
“Glorious! Exciting! A real upset!” The man paused suddenly in fear as Adam and Sunny stood. If his face showed the anger that he felt inside then this man SHOULD be scared.
He moved forward, but Sunny beat him to it, lifting him by the front of his suit and slamming him against the wall, “You are an exploitative coward with no honor.”
Adam crossed his arms over his chest, “I would have called you a raging fuckwit, but I guess that works too. I think the UNSC would have something to say abut you exploiting veterans.” He leaned up on his toes, “So why don’t you and I have a talk.”
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Side Effects- Complete
M/F Pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids (M/F Primary: Y/N x 3racha)
Warnings: Smut, Language, graphic depictions of violence, blood, gore, non-con elements
Genre: Yandere Stray Kids AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU
Word Count: 13K
Summary: Y/N just wanted a normal life, attending to her studies while earning the degree she’s always dreamed about. Unfortunately, her funds are running low and she’s increasingly desperate for money until she finds an advertisement online. Although she doesn’t know much about vampires, she decides to take a position as a blood donor to the mysterious Miroh Coven, unaware of the consequences of her fatal decision.
It had been almost six months since the incident. 24 weeks of paranoia, glancing over my shoulder in response to unexpected movements and sounds. 182 days of watching the bruises slowly fade from my skin, dark circles under my eyes gradually succumbing to the much-needed 8 hours of sleep I managed with the assistance of medication and my new roommate who always welcomed me in her bed when the nightmares progressed. Finally, it seemed like things were getting better with each passing day further and further away from the traumatic event that had changed my life forever.
I could now walk by myself at night without the risk of breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. I could finally keep down the food my roommate prepared for me without the familiar feeling of nausea churning my stomach unpleasantly. I could finally find a job to support myself, working full-time as a Secretary at a company with full benefits and a reliable 401K.
They were gone from my life, taking the pain and suffering along with them. I was better now and I was determined to turn my life around because I was a strong and independent woman who should’ve known better. But I had been desperate back then, working through my college degree while my savings account was slowly drained. I wouldn’t be able to finance my Senior year and the idea of giving up on my education so close to the finish line had almost broken me in half.
That’s when I first saw the advertisement, promoted through Google’s convoluted Adword system. It was like an answer to my prayers, everything that I had been searching for wrapped up neatly with a handy URL link that took me straight to the source. I remember reading the advertisement with greedy eyes, unhesitating when I clicked on the “Apply Now” button:
ATTN:
Looking for a reliable blood donor for an estate of 8 young men belonging to the Miroh Coven. Preferably female with a blood type of O negative. Please send in an application ASAP.
Vampires weren’t uncommon in our society, though the government had heavily restricted their creation since a dramatic increase in population. Now, the government required notification if a Coven planned to initiate a new member. It was all a dramatic affair meant to prevent fledgling vampires who were more prone to violence and chaos. Of course, there was the occasional rogue who turned humans against their will simply because they couldn’t handle their blood-lust. However, more often than not, Coven leaders knew how to keep their members under control.
Blood donors were also not uncommon. Covens often hired several different donors to keep around when they required access to fresh blood. It was a practice that was initially met with hesitance from the greater public, but when Vampires proved they could handle themselves better around a reliable blood source, the government gradually acquiesced.
I had never given much thought to Vampires or Blood Donors until I saw the advertisement. More specifically, until I saw the amount of money this Coven, in particular, was willing to pay for their donor. It would be enough to pay my college tuition and keep money in my savings account to pay for rent and food. Since the new semester was rapidly approaching, I needed to pay for tuition immediately and provide a deposit for an on-campus apartment.
In hindsight, it was probably a foolish idea to jump headfirst into the application without doing proper research. Case in point, questioning just exactly why this obviously wealthy and established Clan needed a blood donor immediately. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve hesitated at the obvious sense of urgency behind the advertisement. I might have wondered what happened to the Clan’s previous Donor, but I was simply enraptured by the dollar signs and refused to consider that this could be a very bad decision.
It only took a few days before I received a notice on the application, requesting an interview at the Miroh Clan’s address. I remember feeling excited by the opportunity, dressing in my best slacks and blouse. I drove with barely constrained enthusiasm, singing along to the ridiculous pop song playing on the radio even though I really preferred classical music. But this was a special occasion and I was potentially meeting with someone who could change my life and allow me to finish the remainder of my education in luxury.
“Tuition is due this Friday,” I reminded myself, gaping at the giant Mansion gated in circumference by an ancient wrought-iron fence. “Remember to tell them you can start immediately, Y/N.”
I checked my make-up in the rear-view mirror before opening the door, heels clicking obnoxiously against the sidewalk. My first impression was rapidly becoming something like a passage from Bram Stoker’s Dracula as I ascended the steps to the front gate, smashing my finger against the button on the elaborate security system. The gate opened without warning and I jumped back in surprise, hand fanning against my chest as my heart nearly skipped a beat or two in my chest. “Relax, Y/N,” I said, smoothing down my slacks.
Despite it’s older appearance, it was obvious that the grounds of the Mansion were well-kept and I took note of the elaborate display of hydrangea’s lining the walkway to the front door. I presumed the Miroh Coven likely hired someone to do the work for them, especially since it was a known fact that Vampires generally disliked the sunlight as it bothered their enhanced senses. In any case, I was prepared to meet a bunch of older men who had perhaps lost their last client to old age or something. Instead, the man who opened the front door looked like he could attend the same University as me. Dressed impeccably in a dark mahogany suit, the man straightened his tie before offering me a relaxed smile. “Y/N?”
I nodded my head, trying not to react to the sight of his sharp incisors glinting menacingly in the light. “My name is Bang Chan,” he said, offering me an outstretched hand. “I’m the leader of the Miroh Coven.”
I shook his hand cautiously, aware of the strength in his arms highlighted by the bulging veins visible from the upturned aspect of his shirt sleeves. “Nice to meet you,” I said, recovering from the unexpected appearance of my potential benefactor. I had not anticipated meeting someone so obviously young.
“Come inside,” he said, opening the door further to welcome me into the shadowed hallways of the Miroh Mansion.
Present
“What else will you do?” my roommate asked with a pout.
I continued to read my book, far more concerned with the fate of my beloved heroine as opposed to my roommate’s desire to find free alcohol. “This,” I said, reclining further back against the comfortable stretch of pillows.
“Y/N,” my roommate chastised me softly. “I know why you don’t want to go and they’re just gonna win if you keep insisting.”
I tensed at her words, fingers mangling the corners of the pages. My roommate knew everything about my last situation because she was often the recipient of my screams when the familiar nightmares flooded my dreams. “They already won,” I grumbled. “I can’t even watch a vampire movie without losing my mind.”
“Are you afraid they’ll find you?” my roommate asked. “They’re thousands of miles away and you haven’t seen them for months.”
“Seven months,” I informed her curtly. “And I’d like to go for eight.”
“Y/N,” my roommate groaned. “You told me that you used to love parties.”
“I know,” I said. “Maybe someday I’ll go out with you, but for now this is the best way I can cope.”
My roommate nodded, messing with something in her bag before approaching me on high heels that were just bordering on too tall. “Here, I found this is the laundry room.”
I held out my hand absent-mindlessly, not really considering what she had given me until I pulled my attention away from the book. When I finally realized what it was, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen followed by a wave of nausea that left me tossing my book to the side before bolting for the bathroom. “Y/N!” my roommate called my name, but I was already expelling the contents of my stomach, groaning from the sickness.
Because the item now discarded next to me was his necklace and I could have sworn I threw it out with their other gifts when I finally attained my freedom from their clutches…
I was completely spent, lungs still seeking additional oxygen and legs sore from where they were wrapped around his. Chan was always rough when he was feeling particularly possessive, hands determined to bruise every inch of my skin along with the deep marks from his fangs. He had taken a lot of blood and despite the offered chocolate now discarded on the side table, I was incredibly light-headed.
“Y/N,” Chan said, fingers tracing a rather nasty bite mark he had left on my shoulder. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?” It was difficult, but I managed to turn my head enough to meet his gaze, startled by how red his eyes glowed under the influence of fresh blood. Chan’s fingers traced along the edges of my lips, forcefully inserting themselves inside and I managed enough strength to lightly tongue my way across the tips. He shivered at that, removing his hand before reaching behind him for the gorgeous necklace I had noticed briefly on his nightstand before he had pushed my face into the mattress. “For you,” he said, helping me into a sitting position so that he could clasp the chain around my neck, golden pendant hanging heavy between the dips of my collarbones. “Perfect,” he soothed into my ear, growling around a husky “mine” before he was kissing a trail down the side of my arm.
Present
I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache that only responded to three painkillers washed down with a glass of cold water. It was a Saturday which meant I had the day off from work and I couldn’t be more grateful. After last night’s incident, I had finally managed to convince my roommate to go out and have fun while I dropped onto my bed with a heavy sigh. The only way I could calm myself down was by repeating assurances that I must have forgotten Chan’s necklace in the small bonfire I had made of the expensive things they had bought for me. It must have gotten stuck in the bottom of my pocket which explains its presence in the laundry room. There was simply no other explanation. But a shiver still ran its way down my spine when I recalled the way Chan had looked at me before I bolted out the front door. “I will always find you,” he had snarled the warning before I was lost into the unforgiving darkness of the night.
I ran home from the hospital, throwing my belongings into a suitcase before booking a one-way trip back home, far away from these horrible monsters who I had willingly entertained for the past year of my life. The only positive was the fact that I had graduated which meant I was in no way expected to stick around any longer. Instead, I uprooted up my life and moved back home where I felt safer, finding my current roommate who willingly offered me her unused second bedroom. I could’ve afforded to live alone, but there’s no way that I could manage a solitary arrangement without losing my mind. And I didn’t have my parents because I was far too prideful to crawl back to them considering the unfortunate way our last encounter had ended when my father told me that I could never amount to anything on my own.
They wanted me to attend a local community college before marrying the son of my dad’s business partner to demonstrate loyalty between the two brands. There was no way I would allow my parents to strip away something that belonged exclusively to me. My mother had ranted all night long when I missed my scheduled reservation, telling me that no boy would ever want me. I wish she had been right because I might have avoided the eight consecutive nightmares who entered my life one by one with every intent of bringing me down.
Regardless, I couldn’t change the past if I wanted to focus on the future, and I was doing well for myself these days without my parents or the Miroh Coven. I was assured that I could get through this unpleasant stage of my life because I had every intention of rising through the ranks. My dream was to open my own business one day and marry someone who could show me both love and respect. Because that was what was missing when I served the Miroh Coven. They might have insisted that they loved me, but they certainly held no respect for the woman they wanted to enslave, especially Jisung.
In fact, Han Jisung might have been the worst of the three brothers. You see, Chan’s claim as a leader only went as far as legalities required, having someone’s name down to attribute ownership. But Chan was just as much leader as Jisung and Changbin. The three brothers were thicker than thieves, having grown up together in a despicable orphanage when they were younger. They weren’t bound by blood, but by something much stronger. When they were turned by an older vampire who envisioned them as perfect little soldiers, they decided that they were owed something for all the years of torment they endured. They turned against their sire, freeing themselves from his control, before forming their own tight-knit clan to claim. Throughout the years, they lived in the Miroh Mansion while forming their very own elaborate enterprise and becoming very wealthy in the process. One of the very first things they did as CEOs was to tear down the orphanage they hated and replace it with one of their office buildings. Next, they tracked down everyone that had ever mistreated them, writing down the names in a disheveled notebook that I had discovered one night in Jisung’s nightstand. Some of the names had already been marked out, but there were still so many left, and I didn’t realize at the time what exactly I was holding in my hands until it was too late.
I shivered at the memory, trying to will it away, but it was already forcing itself to play out again in my mind with perfect clarity:
1 Year Ago
To save costs on ridiculous surcharges, and to make things easier for the coven, I had recently moved into the Miroh Mansion with my eight benefactors. They cleaned a room for me on the top floor where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung also lived in relative peace. The eight of them had been thrilled when I agreed to their proposal, talking nonstop about our new situation. Of course, I didn’t intend for it to hold any sort of permanence, but I didn’t dare speak out against Felix because the younger boy had a vicious temper and lashed out violently when things didn’t go his way.
Nevertheless, I quickly settled in with the others and their regular routine. I came to discover that Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were often missing throughout the day, but I figured it had something to do with their business. As for the others, Hyunjin spent a lot of time in the attic where he had attempted to recreate a dance studio, often requesting that I sit and watch him as he moved to the gentle music playing from an older record player. Sometimes, Felix joined him too, but for the most part, Felix liked to play with the younger boys, Seungmin and Jeongin, in their rooms or in mine. They loved video games and I remember countless hours spent playing with the three of them as they giggled and laughed like the harmless school boys I once believed them to be. Occasionally, Minho liked to poke his head in when we were being too loud, scolding us because he was concentrating on his newest art project.
But the mood shifted considerably once Chan, Changbin, and Jisung came home. Immediately, the other vampires would rush downstairs to greet the brothers. It was the same occurrence every night and I was ignorant at first until I finally mustered the courage to ask Chan why they were so eager to see them. The older man had chuckled at me. “We’re their sires, Y/N. They experience a lot of discomfort without us around.”
“Sires?”
Chan explained the concept to me patiently. “Seungmin and Jeongin are sired to me and Hyunjin and Felix are sired to Changbin.”
“And Minho is sired to Jisung,” I said and Chan had smiled at me proudly like I had just discovered something profound.
“When we come home, it’s important that we reinforce our bond. Otherwise, some very bad things might happen.”
I had nodded like that made perfect sense to me. I was really tired and wanted to simply crawl into Chan’s arms and fall asleep. Chan had realized my intentions, holding me close while running his fingers through the messy strands of my air.
The next evening, Jisung summoned me into his bedroom. “I’m hungry, little one,” he said, drawing me onto the bed to slowly strip me out of my clothes. The very first-time Jisung had attempted to remove my shirt, I freaked out and demanded to know why it was necessary. Jisung had smiled, a cunning manipulative behavior that I hadn’t fully realized at the time. “I don’t want to ruin your clothes.”
Of course, his intentions became evident as our sessions increased and I finally gave in and let Jisung fuck me because it did feel really good when he was inside while drawing far too much blood from my carotid artery. It became just another part of our routine, Jisung drawing me into his bed before sliding his cock inside before biting viciously on the side of my neck. I moaned from under him, focusing on the way his cock slid in and out as opposed to the dizziness I was experiencing from losing too much blood at once. Jisung only stopped when I orgasmed, tightening around his cock before he emptied himself between my legs, pressing sweet kisses to my chest before pulling his flaccid length out of my sensitive opening.
“Sleep,” he whispered close to my ear. I whined because I hated it when he left me alone after sex.
“Sungie,” I said, trying to get his attention. I was incredibly drowsy, fighting against every desire to close my eyes.
Jisung chuckled, entertaining my wandering hands. “I have business that requires my attention and you need to rest for me.”
I watched through lidded eyes as Jisung opened his nightstand, drawing out an unfamiliar notebook. He grabbed a loose pen from the organizer on his desk before scratching something out against the paper. Afterward, the notebook was returned to its previous location before Jisung was silently escaping the bedroom. I groaned loudly at the soreness in my neck, massaging the tender skin before allowing myself the sleep I deserved.
It felt like minutes before an unexpected scream pierced through the walls, startling me into consciousness. I jolted up in my bed, far too quickly for my poor body which was still recovering from Jisung’s feeding. I shook my head to clear the black spots, opening them again only for my eyes to latch onto Jisung’s nightstand. I swallowed hard, curiosity getting the better of me as I slowly pulled on the drawer’s handle.
The notebook wasn’t very large but I could tell it was old and well-used. I slowly opened the first page, frowning as I read the unfamiliar names listed in random order. A few of them had been carefully blacked out, indecipherable now that they had been clearly forgotten. I was growing distracted by the names, trying to piece together the mysterious puzzle, when another noisy scream reminded me why I had been so suddenly disturbed. Carefully, I returned the notebook to its home, slipping on a pair of slippers before leaving Jisung’s bedroom.
The hallways were dark and empty with no other sounds alerting me to the unexpected scream that had previously penetrated my drowsiness. I started down the familiar purple carpets, holding tightly to the railing as I descended the grand staircase. It was then that I noticed light spilling from a crack in the door leading to the basement. I had never been down there before, warned explicitly by Chan to never enter that room. But his warning did nothing to assuage my curiosity, so I ignored the alarms going off in the back of my head before reaching out for the door.
There were several voices now, clearly audible, attempting to speak over one another. It sounded like an argument as I started down the stairs, frowning when I smelled something that reminded me distinctly of a sharp metallic odor. “It’s fine,” I heard Jisung’s voice growl and I paused in my steps, wondering if I would get in trouble for interrupting.
“So messy,” Chan spoke now, clearly irritated. “I thought you planned better than this.”
“I did,” Jisung said. “Consider the girl an added bonus.”
I didn’t like the way they were talking, continuing my trek into the basement until I could finally see the three brothers standing together. But I immediately regretted my decision, covering the scream threatening to rip itself free from my chest as I discovered the corpses hanging from the ceiling. It was a disgusting sight, limbs dismembered and lying out across the floor. There was blood everywhere, covering Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, thick and revolting in the way it stained the concrete floors. I instinctively took a step back, wincing when the stair creaked under my weight. Almost immediately, three pairs of eyes turned in my direction and I fell backward in my haste to retreat.
Chan was on me in an instant, cursing when his touch forced a loud scream to pierce the silence of the room. “Relax, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing my shoulders despite my thrashing. He forced me to meet his eyes and the influence of his power was enough to render me unconscious once again.
Present
“You look beautiful today, Y/N.”
I blushed, of course, from Mark’s tender compliment. “Thank you,” I managed sheepishly, watching as my boss offered me a cheeky smile before entering his office.
Ever since I left the Miroh Coven, I had been working a part-time position as the Secretary to a wealthy CEO. I didn’t mind my job, enjoying the menial tasks I was usually instructed to obey. It was quite mind-numbing, a worthy distraction when I first started working here hollowing the horrors I had endured from the Miroh Coven. The pay was excellent and I was able to help my roommate afford rent while reliably buying myself luxuries like a new mattress or a fresh wardrobe since my old clothes reminded me too much of the past.
The hours were also minimal, and I often found myself sitting down at my desk only to look up at the clock and realize my day had already concluded. Subsequently, I was able to leave the office on time every day to join the steady stream of afternoon traffic. Afterward, I might stop by a restaurant to pick up something for dinner, or occasionally drive through the downtown marketplace because I enjoyed shopping for fresh produce. It was all quite nice and I enjoyed settling into my new life with a deep sigh of relief.
It had almost been nine months since I last saw any of the boys and other than the unfortunate encounter with Chan’s necklace, I was sure that I would never have to experience anything so unattractive ever again. I was slowly regaining my confidence, joining my roommate several times when she wanted to see a movie or shop at one of the outdoor malls. Everything was starting to work out for me, which meant that I was also starting to comfortably take more risks.
“Please have fun tonight,” my roommate said, practically dragging me along with her as we entered one of her favorite clubs. After much convincing, I had finally given in and allowed my roommate to take me out late at night for drinks and dancing. “This is a nice place,” she said, leading me to the bar. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
I nodded my head, looking around the relaxed atmosphere. It was certainly a much tamer club than what I was used to visiting, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Of course, the influence of alcohol had a way of making a person far more willing to lower their defenses. “One glass,” I said, accepting the fruity beverage from the bartender before my roommate and I found a table near the edge of the dance-floor.
“So many handsome faces,” my roommate remarked. “Interested in anyone?”
I scoffed at her question because I seriously doubted that I would willingly jump into a new relationship anytime soon. “Really?”
“Just wondering,” my roommate shrugged, drinking down the remainder of her scotch. “Wanna dance?”
I waved her off, deciding that I was okay with enjoying my drink at our table. My roommate let out a giggle, locking eyes with a suave businessman who looked ready to devour her whole. “I’ll check on you soon,” she promised and I quickly lost her in the mass of bodies occupying the dance floor.
I rolled my eyes because I knew better than to expect my roommate’s return. Instead, I sipped at my drink while admiring the friendly atmosphere of the bar, neon colors dazzling in my peripheral vision. It reminded me of my younger college days when I was swept away by the illusion of freedom which independent adulthood offered, attending every frat party I could find.
I grinned at the memories, feeling way too old to try anything like that ever again. It was fun once, being so irresponsible, but now it was time to start paying bills and scratch my head when I attempted to do my taxes. Freedom was addicting, and I could see why so many younger people were enamored with the idea of moving away from home and conquering the world.
Wistfully, I must digress because I often lose myself in my thoughts, and I can’t afford a break in concentration. Instead, I sipped tentatively at my drink, watching the moving sea of bodies. I was entirely focused, which allowed me to raise my guard at the approach of an unfamiliar figure.
“Excuse me? Do you have the time?”
I shrugged loosely because it was an innocent request from someone who clearly wasn’t looking for anything ill-intended. On instinct, I reached into my bag to grab my phone. “It’s almost midnight,” I said, thinking that our interaction would be short-lived.
Instead, the man was insistent, a cold hand digging harshly against my shoulder. “Don’t you know that it’s dangerous to stay up so late, sweetheart?”
The accent had been disguised, but now I recognized it thick and heavy in my ear. I couldn’t even remember to scream before his hand was enclosed over my mouth, teeth nipping at my jaw. Another body slipped into my roommate’s chair, brows raised as he reached for her discarded glass. “Is there room for some company, Y/N?” Jisung asked, blonde hair hanging low in his eyes.
I shook my head desperately, fresh tears clouding my vision. “Where are your manners, sweetheart?” Chan asked with a harsh tone and I was suddenly jerked to the side, a strong hand holding my chin into place.
“What a coincidence, Y/N,” Changbin growled. “We have unfinished business in this little town of yours.”
“You’re coming with us,” Chan said, ignoring the way I fought against him as he practically forced me out of my chair. “Look at me,” he snarled, eyes trained on mine as I started to drift out of consciousness.
I was slowly starting to realize that the implications of being a sire went far beyond just simply turning someone immortal. For example, I knew how cruel Changbin could be, turning violent on a whim, especially if you disobeyed him. He was the one who liked to punish me when he thought I was being bad, dragging out all sorts of special toys to use against my body. Paddles and lashes, whips and spikes, everything Changbin needed was lined perfectly along the walls of the special room he had decorated for himself whenever he wanted to play with someone. He was a sadist in every sense of the word, enjoying the sensation of watching someone suffer for his own pleasure. When he had first brought me into the room, I had immediately protested, close to tears when Changbin had cooed at me and insisted that I would never be forced to do anything outside of my comfort zone. He spoke with a wicked tongue, dark eyes revealing the truth if I had been so willing to look for it, but I eventually allowed him to have his way with me. Tears streaming freely down the side of my face while Changbin’s tongue traced the salty rivulets with a groan.
But Changbin wasn’t the only one with a fiery temper and desire for pain and suffering. His fledgling vampires, Felix and Hyunjin, had decisively taken on his more brutal aspects. Felix lost control whenever I said something to offend him, growling out insults while I tried to avoid his hands. Hyunjin had special permission to use Changbin’s secret room to explore his own masochism, and I had accidentally wandered into one of his sessions at the beginning of our arrangement before things had turned sexual between us. I remember the look of existential terror on the girl’s face that I had foolishly misplaced as pleasure, crying out not in ecstasy but in pain.
On the other hand, Jisung was the manipulative and cunning brother who thought out everything instead of living on a whim according to his pleasures. It was this same trait that I discovered in Minho who also shared Jisung’s tendency to plan out his movements. The only difference between them was that Minho was silent in his execution while Jisung was loud in letting everyone know that he had gotten his way.
Finally, there was Bang Chan, the legal leader of the Miroh Coven. Chan was the last of the brothers to attempt a siring bond because he had never found the right person. I would never know for sure why Seungmin and Jeongin were “the right people,” but Chan doted on them in every sense of the word. He treasured them like they were his possessions, buying them expensive clothes and allowing them leeway when their bloodlust tended to get the best of them. It was up to the sire to teach their fledglings how to properly drink blood from a source, but Chan had decided not to blink an eye when Seungmin or Jeongin accidentally took things a step too far.
Just like Chan, Seungmin and Jeongin were also extremely possessive, especially when they considered something to belong exclusively to them. I can only wish that I had noticed sooner, the way the three of them liked to leave their marks on me in various ways, whether it be through a harsh bite or buying me something nice and insisting that I wear it at all times. Seungmin and Jeongin were also dangerous because there had been times when I felt like I was on death’s door, feeling them drink my blood like they would never stop.
Sadly, I thought I had escaped all of that, so imagine the utter sense of dread crippling my entire body when I woke up to see Chan, Changbin, and Jisung standing over me as they watched me slowly awaken. Chan was the first to react, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he appraised me. “Sweetheart,” he said and a shiver ran down my spine. “Don’t you know how worried we were when you ran away from us like that?”
My lower lip trembled and I bit down on it hard. “I couldn’t stay.”
“Why not?” Chan asked, looking every bit as patient as I remembered.
“You hurt people,” I whispered. “And you hurt me too.”
“Hurt you?” Chan huffed, a look of annoyance masking his features. “We protected you and cared for you, sweetheart.”
“You belong to us,” Jisung said, gaze cold as he watched me from afar.
I sniffled, slowly losing my last shred of pride as I tried not to cry in front of these horrible vampires. His words reminded me of the night I left, rushing out into the streets with blood covering my body. “I don’t have to work for you anymore,” I said.
Changbin growled. “The arrangement meant more than that, Y/N.”
“We love you,” Chan said, reaching for my hands and I didn’t have the strength to fight him. “Remember? We can be together forever.”
I was crying now, triggered by the all-too-familiar words spoken 9 months ago when I entered the Miroh Mansion for the final time.
Eight Months Ago
Jeongin was still young enough to celebrate his birthday, and the rest of the Clan had decided that nothing was too good for their precious youngest member. I remember going shopping with Chan, buying party decorations without any consideration for how much it would cost them. Earlier that week, Jisung and I had visited the bakery to order Jeongin a custom-made birthday cake, including a cheesy message at the bottom to commemorate the occasion. Everyone was in good spirits and I had finally stopped thinking about the bodies in their basement, believing Jisung when he told me that they had been donated to the Miroh Clan to use as a source of fresh blood. “It sometimes happens,” Jisung said. “Whenever there’s an accident and nobody claims the bodies, they send them here for us to use.”
It was an extremely unreasonable explanation but I refused to believe anything else in an attempt to protect myself from the truth. I was determined to move past it, forcing myself to smile at Jisung’s cheesy jokes or Chan’s attempts to make me laugh. I must have been a good actor because they stopped hovering around me at every possible opportunity, watching me like they were waiting for me to bolt out the door and never return.
“Y/N!” Jeongin had said, jumping into my bed to wake me up that morning. “Guess what?” he giggled, adorable face mere inches from my own.
“Hmmm?” I wondered, smirking as he practically beamed with excitement.
“It’s my birthday,” Jeongin said. “I’m supposed to be 40-years-old today!”
“Congratulations,” I snickered, deciding that it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard.
“Will you come play with me and Felix?” Jeongin asked. “We can do whatever we want until Chan gets home.”
That’s another thing I had noticed about the fledglings. They never really liked to talk about anyone except for their sired master. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that Jeongin had no idea that Jisung and Changbin even existed. “Okay,” I said. “Let me take a shower first.”
Jeongin allowed me to get ready in peace and quiet, and I enjoyed the feeling of the water scalding my skin as I stood under the faucet for far longer than normal. Afterward, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, finding Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin in Minho’s room, arguing over who would join teams. I yawned when I entered, wary of the way Minho was watching me from his bed, legs stretched out in front of him as his eyes followed me all the way to where Felix was holding out my controller.
I spent the remainder of the afternoon with the younger boys, ignoring Minho completely as I let Jeongin win several times even though I was much better at Street Fighter. “Finally,” Jeongin exclaimed, racing for the door before I could question him.
“Chan’s home,” Minho informed me, holding out a hand which I reluctantly accepted, trying not to react when Minho leaned in to press his lips against my delicate pulse point.
Downstairs, all of the vampires were busy setting up Jeongin’s party. Streamers hung from the overhead banisters and balloons floated mindlessly through the room as Chan hugged Jeongin tightly against his chest. “Were you a good boy today?” he asked the youngest who nodded enthusiastically in response.
“Y/N,” Jisung called my name. “Help me in the kitchen.”
I obeyed immediately, finding Jisung situating candles on top of the cake we had purchased earlier that week. I was struck by the normalcy of the situation, standing next to Jisung as he instructed me to start boiling a pot of water. Apparently, despite their delicate diets, on special occasions, the Vampires could enjoy human food and Jeongin’s favorite was being prepared for him.
It was chaotic in the Mansion as everyone attended to their various responsibilities, amusing little Jeongin who flitted from person to person. Although, more often than not, Jeongin stuck close to Chan’s side, talking to his sire about all the nuances of his day. Chan listened patiently, nodding along as he finished the elaborate ribbon around one of Jeongin’s birthday presents. “Is everyone ready?”
We all stood together in the kitchen, singing for Jeongin who was vibrating from head to toe. He blew out the candles and beamed at the accompanying applause. “Happy birthday, Jeongin,” I said, allowing him to pull me into an impossibly strong grip.
Meanwhile, the other vampires slowly congregated into the living room where Jeongin’s presents were waiting for him. “Y/N,” Chan said, holding me back as Jeongin raced out of the kitchen. “Help me carry these drinks.”
I wrinkled my nose because they were obviously filled with blood. Nonetheless, I obeyed diligently, accepting one of the trays before following Chan into the crowded foyer. “Channie!” Jeongin said, holding up a delicate pocket watch. “It’s so nice!”
Chan smiled warmly at Jeongin, ruffling his hair playfully as he started handing out the glasses. Changbin grabbed me by the hips as I passed in front of him, pulling me into his lap as he took a sip from his glass. “It’s not as good as yours,” he teased, lips scarlet from the liquid.
I chose not to respond to his comment, trying to relax against his body. “Y/N,” Chan said before handing me a glass. I studied it cautiously while I gingerly took the glass from him.
“What is it?”
“Just some wine,” Chan shrugged indifferently and I nodded before trying a sip of the beverage. Almost immediately, I winced at the taste and Changbin chuckled at my obvious aversion.
“It was very expensive,” he lightly chastised me and I tried not to notice the smell as I forced more of the wine down my throat.
Meanwhile, Jeongin continued to open more of his gifts, expressing his gratitude towards each of his older members as he tried on various pieces of clothing and jewelry. When he finally got to my present, he shot me a mischievous smirk. “Y/N…”
“Open it,” I encouraged him.
Jeongin needed no further encouragement, ripping through the wrapping paper before discovering the portable gaming system tucked neatly in the box it once came in. “For you to practice,” I said, pleased at his grateful expression. It was an older system that once belonged to my brother, but I didn’t have a need for it, and Jeongin talked relentlessly about how cool it would be to play the older versions of the games he loved.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
I was warmed by his genuine reaction, feeling nothing but affection for the boy. “You’re welcome.”
“What a good girl,” Changbin said, tipping my glass back against my lips. “You shouldn’t waste it.”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he really cared about how expensive the wine cost. After all, these were the same men who brought new things into the house every day after flashing their shiny credit cards at whichever cashier had the privilege of accommodating their requests. Still, I knew better than to upset Changbin, especially on poor Jeongin’s birthday, so I downed the rest of the nasty drink before placing the glass down on the side table. “Shall we watch a movie?” Jisung asked, eyes glinting rather maniacally as he studied my discarded drink.
“Please!” Jeongin chirped. “Something scary.”
I hated the idea of watching a horror movie, but I couldn’t protest when everyone else was in total agreement for once. Instead, I followed the rest of the boys into the main living room, resisting a sigh when Chan drug me down next to him on the sectional. “Whatever you want, Jeongin,” Jisung said, tossing the younger the remote control.
“Dracula!” Jeongin declared, an amusing pick perhaps if these Vampires were less violent.
But my opinion held no weight and the film began while Felix turned off the lights. Bathed in darkness, I resisted the urge to curl in tighter against Chan as I tried not to think about the film playing on-screen. Everyone else was comfortable, settled in their usual pairs which meant Minho was sitting between Jisung’s legs while Felix and Hyunjin flanked Changbin on either side. Seungmin and Jeongin sat close to me and Chan as they watched the television with wide, eager eyes.
I tried to turn off my mind, focusing on a distant spot beyond the edge of the screen. It worked for a while, keeping my mind occupied away from the movie playing in the background. In fact, I might have managed to survive the rest of the evening had it not been for Chan whose lips were suddenly brushing along the length of my neck.
I immediately flinched away. “What are you doing?” I whispered, unrelenting when his hand wrapped around the back of my head to force me into place.
“I’m hungry,” he smirked against my exposed skin, teeth sharp against my delicate flesh.
“Why now?” I said, looking over at the others because there was no way they couldn’t hear the two of us.
“Just one bite,” Chan said and I rolled my eyes but bared my neck for him, hoping he would be fast about the unexpected ordeal. He was quick to adjust me on his lap, fixing our positions to his liking. Chan’s teeth penetrated my skin gently and I could feel his mouth latch on tightly as he started to drink from me. I tried not to react, glancing away at the other members who were still watching the movie. With the exception of Changbin, who was looking at me with a dangerous smirk that immediately alerted me to the fact that something was terribly wrong.
As the seconds ticked away, I realized that Chan had no intention of stopping and my instincts kicked in as the storm of anxiety registered throughout my slowly weakening body. I jerked away from Chan who must have been caught off-guard, blood spraying into the air around us as the wound had not been properly closed. But my decision proved to be a necessary distraction because Jeongin and Seungmin both immediately reacted to the intense smell, teeth bared as they sought the source of the blood coating the furniture and my clothes. I managed to dodge Jeongin as he jumped at me first, colliding into Chan to send them both falling back into the floor.
With my hand pressed against my neck, I started for the front door, aware of Changbin closing in behind me. But the older boy was unprepared for Seungmin’s attack whose instincts probably insisted that someone was trying to steal his fresh supply of blood. Changbin let out a grunt as he wrestled with a feral Seungmin, receiving help from Felix and Hyunjin who were trying to protect their sire. Through the haze clouding my eyes, I could see Jisung holding back Minho whose sharpened incisors were cutting deeply into the thin skin of his lips. “You belong to us!” Jisung snarled.
“We can be together forever,” Chan said, still distracted by a wild Jeongin whose dark eyes were starting to look very unfamiliar. It was only then that I realized I had been tricked. They had been trying to turn me without my permission. The expensive wine Changbin insisted I drink must have been someone’s blood because when a human died with vampire blood in their system…
I forced those thoughts away, deciding it was far more important to focus on escaping, and the feral vampires provided the perfect distraction. I managed to make it out onto the street, finding my car parked at the sidewalk. I started the ignition, blasting cold air through the vents to keep me conscious as I pulled out onto the main road. Blood was still pouring steadily from my wound when I stopped next to the Emergency room entrance, ignoring a nearby policeman who was clearly displeased that I was blocking the road before I finally succumbed to the darkness with a grateful sigh.
Present
What have they done? I questioned immediately when I realized that I was back in my regular bedroom the following morning. The normality of the situation should’ve been impossible because I was certain that Chan, Jisung, and Changbin had inexplicably decided to hold me hostage after finding me at that stupid club. “Remember? We can be together forever.”
However, no matter how much I tried to make sense of the preceding night’s events, I couldn’t understand why they would allow me to leave after making such promises to turn me. I don’t recall escaping, especially considering my weakened condition, which meant that the three men had brought me back to my apartment on their own accord. I mean, was this just another attempt to mess with me?
I glanced over at my nightstand, discovering a faded envelope sitting on top of my cell phone. I decided to check my messages first, relieved when I saw my roommate’s contact name. She had apparently spent the night with someone she met at the bar, but she assured me that she was safe and would be home later after work. I was glad that she was fairing better than her roommate, and I turned my attention to the envelope. The handwriting on the front was familiar, and I gently tore through the sealed contents. Inside was a folded letter, and my hands were shaking when I smoothed out the paper to comprehend the brief message written in perfect cursive:
Y/N,
Although our reunion was postponed, please accept this invitation on behalf of the Miroh Coven for your company tonight at 8:00 pm sharp.
Sincerely,
Bang Chan
What did he mean by postponing our reunion?
Unfortunately, I had no time to try and figure it out because the buzzing sound of our doorbell abruptly pulled me out of bed, and I wordlessly tucked the envelope inside my pocket. My roommate and I never received visitors, and there was a small part of me that feared for the possibility that one of the Miroh Coven members was waiting outside in the hallway. Yet, when I searched through the door viewer, I realized that a uniformed police officer was carefully sorting through a file of paperwork in her hands.
“Hello?” I asked cautiously, opening the door just enough to acknowledge the unfamiliar woman.
“Y/N?” the officer questioned.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“My name is Officer Smith. I have a few questions for you concerning your previous employer,” the officer said and I was left shaking from head to toe as I allowed her to come inside.
“Do you have somewhere we could sit down?” she asked, and I nodded curtly before leading us both in the kitchen.
“Coffee?” I asked, crowding around the machine in the kitchen.
“That would be nice.”
We were both silent while I served the warm beverage, holding my mug tightly between my hands. “Do you want any creamer?”
“I’m fine,” the officer said. “I just want you to be comfortable. There’s some very troubling things I want to talk to you about.”
“I see,” I nodded, looking intently at the file she had brought with her.
“We’re in the middle of an investigation,” she continued. “It concerns the Miroh Coven. According to our records, you were previously employed with them as a blood donor.”
“Yes, but I was forced to leave.”
“Oh?”
“We had a disagreement.”
“Well, I want you to know that they’re in a lot of trouble,” the officer explained. “We found the body of a young woman on the side of the highway completely drained of blood. When we ran her license, we discovered that she had been employed by the Miroh Coven as a blood donor during the past few months. However, when we asked the Coven about her employment, they told us a very similar story about...a disagreement.”
I shivered despite the heat from the liquid trailing down my throat. “I just...I had a lot of trouble with balancing my college lectures with their schedule. It was very demanding.”
“Of course,” the officer said, but she still wore a look of suspicion. “Normally, we might be inclined to attribute these kinds of things to a rogue attack, but there’s just too many factors that coincide with this case.”
“Like what?”
“For starters, we’ve been unable to contact their previous employees, with the exception of yourself,” the officer explained. “It seems like the Miroh Coven has a history of making their employees disappear without a trace, and I find it very problematic that the young lady we found yesterday had clearly suffered at the hands of a vampire.”
“How many other employees have they had?”
“Quite a few,” the officer said. “I think there’s something bigger going on, and I really need for you to be honest with me, Y/N, because you might be able to help us stop them.”
I swallowed hard. “You think they killed those other donors.”
“It’s very likely,” she said. “Can you tell me anything else about your resignation?”
I found it impossible to make eye contact with the officer, especially when I could still remember everything that had happened the night I left the Miroh Coven. My intention had always been to forget about those terrible circumstances because I was determined to move forward with my life, but all those other ill-fated donors suddenly made it very difficult to remain silent. “They were always nice to me,” I said. “We had a reasonable arrangement because they paid for my schooling and even let me live with them to assuage the cost of on-campus housing. It helped me finish school, but it was always meant to be a temporary arrangement.”
“I understand,” she nodded. “Did they know you were planning to leave?”
“No, but they were keeping secrets from me too,” I said. “A lot of strange things happened when I was living at the mansion.”
“Like?”
“One night, I found a pair of bodies in the basement, but Jisung told me that they were donated...” I trailed off with a choked whimper. “They were also planning to turn me into one of them.”
“Did they tell you this?”
“I guess I didn’t have the right to know,” I said. “I escaped that night and drove myself to the hospital. After that, I moved back here and tried to forget about everything that happened.”
“I understand that it was traumatic for you,” the officer said. “I’m sorry you had to bring it up again.”
I shook my head. “If they’re hurting other people, then I don’t mind the pain.”
The officer sighed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Have they tried to contact you since then?”
“Yeah,” I sniffled, reaching into my pocket to retrieve the folded letter. “They actually found me at a bar the other night, but they let me go for some reason. I found this letter on my nightstand.”
The officer read over the simple message and frowned. “Were you planning on meeting them tonight?”
“I don’t want to see them ever again.”
“Interesting,” the officer said. “It seems like they really like you.”
“They always told me that,” I said, remembering their whispered words of affection while sharp teeth penetrated my skin.
“I’m going to be completely transparent with you, Y/N,” the officer said. “My station is leading an investigation into the Miroh Coven, but we still need a lot of evidence to bring a case to the court of law.”
“You can have the letter,” I suggested, but she shook her head.
“It needs to be more concrete,” she said. “I need something that condemns them for the previous disappearances of those other blood donors.”
“Maybe a record or something?”
“I wish we had one,” the officer sighed. “We know those donors were employed by the Coven, but there’s no evidence of what happened to them or why they were dismissed.”
“Chan, Jisung, and Changbin own their own company,” I said. “There might be something in one of those buildings?”
“I doubt they’d be careless,” the officer said. “Actually, I’d imagine that the three of them would keep those things close, and there’s probably very few people who they trust inside the mansion.”
I could feel my entire body trembling at her knowing look. “Actually, Y/N, it seems like they trust you.”
“You want me to go to that dinner tonight with them,” I whispered, completely missing her next words because my heart was beating too loudly, drowning out the other noises around the apartment. It felt like I was falling back into a dark place, and I was desperate to find the light again.
Officer Smith suddenly reached out, fingers cold against my arm, and she effectively pulled me back into the conversation. “I know it’s a lot to ask from you, Y/N, but the answers are inside that house! Whatever you might find could bring justice to the people they’ve taken advantage of over the years.”
It was easy for her to tell me to return to the Coven when she desperately needed my help, but why did it have to be my responsibility to return to a place where I had once escaped tragedy? Nevertheless, I could feel the weight of her gaze, imploring me to undertake such a terrifying mission, and I wondered whether or not I could still protect myself when so many other people were depending on me? “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll do it.”
The Miroh Mansion was still dark and foreboding, reminding me of the very first time I walked through the front door for my interview with Chan. It was a pivotal moment in my life, but one whose consequences I never understood until I drove to a hospital with blood pouring from a wound meant to serve as the last reminder of my mortality. I had nightmares about the Coven kidnapping me and forcing me to return, but I could’ve never imagined that I would come back here of my own decision.
I slowly knocked on the front door, swallowing down my fear because I couldn’t afford for the Coven to think anything was wrong. “Act as if we had never gotten involved,” the police had instructed me.
“I’ll try,” I had promised, and I intended to do whatever was possible to help the innocent. However, I wouldn’t go as far as risking my life to expose these horrible vampires, even if dozens of missing donors were counting on me for justice.
“Y/N,” Chan greeted smoothly when he met me outside on the porch, dark eyes swallowing me into their endless depths. “I’m glad you saw things our way.”
He invited me inside, and I anxiously made my way across the familiar carpeted hallway leading into the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see the other Coven members waiting, but it still didn’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat when I realized that I could very well die tonight if I wasn’t careful. “My dearest Y/N kindly accepted our invitation,” Jisung remarked, gliding across the floor with an impossible speed. I could smell blood on his lips as he wrapped an arm around my waist, escorting me to the lovely sectional where Minho was watching me through lidded eyes.
“You look beautiful,” Changbin contributed, holding a glass of red liquid daintily between his fingers. Felix and Hyunjin sat next to him, looking at me with barely constrained hunger. “You’re just in time for drinks.”
I stiffened instinctively under Jisung’s hold because I remembered the last time I had been offered to drink with them. “It’s just wine,” Minho smirked, holding out a glass for me to take.
I accepted it cautiously, tasting at the rim only to discover a grape-flavored taste that certainly didn’t remind me of blood. Still, I declined to drink further, holding my glass while Chan started a conversation about their business, eliminating the initial silence that had occupied the room upon my arrival. Seungmin and Jeongin happily listened, focused on their sire with an attentiveness that reminded me of my previous stay with the Miroh Coven when I had once been ignorant of their bond. “Dinner should be ready soon,” Chan reassured me and I could only nod in response.
“Do you mind if I use the restroom?” I asked, and Jisung reluctantly let me go while eight pairs of eyes watched me all the way up the staircase.
I took a deep breath, waiting until Chan started talking again before disappearing around the corner into the room I knew he maintained as an office. I immediately started for his desk, pulling out well-organized files and the notebooks full of his writings. Every so often, I glanced up at the clock hanging above the doorway because I knew that I could probably only manage twenty minutes unsupervised before someone came looking for me.
“Please,” I sighed, reading over a promising file tentatively titled extraneous paperwork. “Holy shit!”
Pictures.
Dozens of them.
They were incriminating, various bodies splayed at unattractive angles. Close-up shots of mangled corpses drenched in blood with empty eyes staring straight at the camera. I flipped them over and gasped, reading the names that sounded way too familiar to merely be a coincidence. “This is it,” I said, almost giddy with excitement despite the uncomfortable nausea twisting my stomach at the sight of these poor donors who had managed to fall victim to the merciless Coven.
I shuffled them together, restoring Chan’s office to its previous organization, before tucking the pictures inside the pocket of my jacket. I was more than ready to return downstairs, when I suddenly remembered a faint recollection of the little notebook I had once discovered in Jisung’s bedroom. It wasn’t that much further down the hallway, and I quickly jerked open the drawer of his nightstand, shoulders deflating in relief when I saw the tiny book waiting on top of his other belongings.
I gripped it tightly when I eventually retreated, resting my head against the door to his bedroom quietly because this was causing me more stress than I could handle. “Y/N?”
I immediately turned around, eyes widening in shock when I realized that Chan was waiting for me. I swallowed hard as I held my ground, keeping the journal behind me. “Did you need something, Chan?”
He didn’t respond right away, and I could feel myself growing smaller and smaller with every long second passing between us. Finally, Chan took a step in my direction. “You’ve been gone a while.”
I shifted anxiously. “I- I just remembered something in Jisung’s room. We used to look at it together when I lived here.”
Chan nodded, and I was relieved that he accepted my explanation. “We all missed you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I missed you too.”
He closed his eyes, cherishing the lie that somehow sounded much more believable than it did inside my head. “Can you show me?”
“What?”
“In Jisung’s room,” Chan said. “What did he show you?”
I trembled as I leaned against the door. “I’m not sure if it was something he wanted to share.”
“I see,” Chan murmured. “It’s interesting because there’s something that I want to show you too.”
Chan walked away without another word, and I assumed that he wanted me to follow him. I ignored every instinct that was screaming for me to escape with my evidence because I wouldn’t make it the bottom of the staircase before a Coven member would prevent that from happening. Instead, I took slow steps on unsteady legs into Chan’s bedroom. I was inherently curious, but when he gently backed me against the wall, I understood perfectly well what he wanted.
His fingers were undoing the buttons on my shirt and I carefully shrugged off my jacket before he could find and apprehend the valuable photographs inside my pockets. I also made sure Jisung’s journal was hidden beneath the fabric before I allowed Chan to take me to his bed. The oldest vampire made no secret of his desires, tossing aside his shirt before tugging the fabric of my jeans down my legs. “Y/N,” he sighed, fingering the edges of my panties while his sharpened canines drew lines along my collarbones. My body reacted on instinct because it was impossible to resist Chan when he was looking at me like I was the answer to all of his problems. Despite everything he had done to me, I still responded to his touches and the taste of his skin on my lips. Instead of pushing him away, I held him close, occasionally glancing at my jacket waiting next to the door with the incriminating evidence necessary to end the Coven forever.
“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I missed you.”
Maybe that was part of the reason why I didn’t resist because I knew that he would never bother me again once the police had their prosecution trial. It was an intoxicating sensation since I was the one with all the power and he was completely clueless to my intentions. He had no idea that I came back to spite the Coven instead of joining them like they wanted.
I watched him roll on a condom, erection prominent as he pushed slowly between my legs. I felt incredibly full, studying the pleasure on his face when he started to thrust inside of me. I looked at him the entire time with eyes wide open because I knew something that he didn’t and, while he was pleasuring me with his precious members waiting downstairs, I was taking back all that time spent in this mansion, knowing that they were more dangerous than anything I had ever encountered before.
His cock moved faster, and I reacted by spreading my legs wider for him, opening myself up to Chan’s advances. It didn’t take him long to come, and I finally closed my eyes when I felt his warm release through the thin latex of the condom. His kisses were familiar, but they also made me want to laugh because I was planning on betraying the people who claimed to love me, the vampires who actually did love me in their own messed up way.
“I love you,” he eventually said, but I didn’t respond, choosing instead to count the tiles on the ceiling overhead.
“Photos, names, addresses, detailed journal accounts...Y/N, you managed to find everything! We can cross-reference this stuff with the files and paperwork we already have.”
I smiled despite the circumstances, watching as two younger detectives sorted the files and pictures before retreating from the tiny interrogation room. “It wasn’t exactly easy for me.”
“Still, this is brilliant, Y/N,” Officer Smith exclaimed, and I felt satisfied knowing that I had done a good job. “We have enough evidence to start the raid.”
“Raid?”
She nodded. “You should know that Vampire raids are extremely rare, but I don’t think your Coven will surrender when we issue the warrant.”
I wrinkled my nose at the suggestion that I could ever belong to the Miroh Coven. “Is it safe?”
“It’s a commonplace occurrence and we’ve all received special training,” she said. “Hopefully, they’ll come to their senses and agree to a trial, but it won’t take much for a judge to officially convict them.”
“Will I have to be at the trial?” I asked, dreading the idea before it could even become official.
“I wouldn’t force you,” she replied. “A testimony would be critical, but this is enough to put them away for the rest of their immortal lives.”
I couldn’t imagine the dreaded reality of such a punishment. “What if they escape? They might try and track me down.”
“Witness protection,” she suggested. “We’ll accommodate you to the best of our abilities.”
“I understand the concept,” I said. “But they’ve found me before despite everything I did to hide.”
“Well, we can work out the details later,” she said. “For now, we need to prepare for the raid. We’ll start by sending in the evidence to the court to get our warrant for their immediate arrest.”
“Is it something that will happen soon?”
“I might have a way to expedite the process,” she grinned. “We’ve been on this case for long enough, bothering the courts for documents and employee records.”
I nodded slowly. “So everything is done?”
“For the most part,” she agreed. “We can commence stage two of our operation.”
“Thank god,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I’m glad that it’s over.”
“Yes,” the officer said, but there was a reluctance in her tone that sent me immediately on edge. “Of course, we can always use your help with one last thing.”
“What could I do at this point? I’m not exactly trained for this sort of thing.”
“Yes, but we wouldn’t want the Coven to suspect anything,” she said. “They might try to leave before our warrant is formally issued. Until then, I think a distraction might hold their attention.”
“Me,” I intoned, narrowing my eyes because I wanted nothing more to do with those nasty vampires.
“We wouldn’t want them to suspect anything,” she said. “If you go back to the Coven, then they might lower their guard.”
“It was supposed to end,” I reminded her. “You said that I was finished with them.”
“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Officer Smith said. “But this will be the last time you ever have to see them again.”
“You keep saying that,” I muttered, but we both knew that I was in too deep, which meant that I had no choice but to return to the mansion.
Felix greeted me at the door with his familiar smirk, escorting me inside to the bottom of the staircase. Today meant the official end of the Coven, but they were all completely ignorant to their impending punishment. “They want to discuss something with you,” Felix said, and I understood immediately who he was referring to despite the unnecessary pronoun game.
Still, I knew that I couldn’t keep them waiting, pausing outside of Chan’s office door before I heard someone invite me inside. I took a deep breath, opening the door to discover the three leaders waiting for me expectantly while wearing similar expressions of dark foreboding. “Y/N,” Chan said. “Have a seat.”
I obeyed instantly, looking at the Miroh Coven leader as he watched me with an unnerving attentiveness. “What’s going on? I asked.
“I think we have something serious to discuss,” Chan said and my heart was practically beating out of my chest as I studied Jisung and Changbin from the corner of my eye. They knew, I repeated to myself over and over again as I imagined a dozen different scenarios that all ended with my lifeless body thrown into some kind of river because they had discovered my treason.
“You came back,” Jisung finally said. “We weren’t expecting you to accept our invitation.”
“I was being polite,” I said, rubbing my hands along the seam line of my jeans.
“Yes, but we’re all here,” Changbin said. “We can be together.”
I shivered at his words. “We love you, Y/N,” Chan said. “The eight of us would like nothing more than to keep you with us forever.
“To turn me,” I confirmed, and he nodded his head.
“We’ll make it special,” Jisung said, patting his lap and I reluctantly joined him.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Changbin confirmed, swiping his tongue across his sharp teeth. “But we are hungry.”
“And you’re such a sweet girl,” Jisung added, holding me on his lap as his teeth brushed across my carotid artery.
I held my breath because he was close to biting, but then...
“Chan! The police are outside and have a warrant to investigate the property!”
Jeongin’s face was a mess of tears which, at one time, might’ve forced me to reconsider everything that I had done, but not anymore. “What?” Chan growled, before glaring at me. “You stay here,” Chan said, and Jisung snarled in frustration as he released me before following Changbin and Chan downstairs.
For a moment, I could only focus on breathing because I had narrowly escaped Jisung’s bite and now the Coven knew that they were about to receive an unanticipated raid from the police. I swallowed hard, falling down into the floor as a piercing scream shattered the previous silence that left me shaking like a leaf inside of Chan’s office. There were suddenly loud growls and vicious noises penetrating the closed door and I buried my head between my legs and tried to calm down my racing heart.
I could hear the familiar sounds of glass breaking, of inhuman screams and yells breaking the barrier of the office. The voices of the vampires I had once known yelling out insults and curses, the destructive noises of gunshots and human-like cries for help as teeth tore through skin. It was apparent that the Miroh Coven was not backing down from this fight, and I could only pray that my officer had been right in her assurances that they could handle the Coven.
It seemed like hours had passed before I finally removed my hands from my ears, realizing that the screaming from downstairs had suddenly stopped. I waited for several moments, hearing nothing but my heartbeat in my ears and the gentle sounds of the river outside. Eventually, I managed to stand on unsteady legs, holding myself up against the wall as I started to make my way downstairs.
The smells that assaulted my senses should’ve told me everything, but I still released a piercing scream when I collapsed at the bottom of the staircase.
It was a terrifying sight, nothing but blood and crooked bodies spread throughout the room. I recognized most of the Coven, bile rising in my throat when I made contact with Changbin’s lifeless eyes. I carefully took a step back because I knew that this wasn’t supposed to happen, but an unexpected pressure around my ankle tore another scream from my throat and I fell down onto the floor.
“Y/N,” Chan croaked and I shivered when he moved over me, blood seeping through his shirt, but his eyes were still perfectly focused. “I have nothing now, Y/N,” Chan gasped, gripping tightly to my chin and forcing me to look into the empty eyes of Han Jisung.
He pulled me closer, exposing his sharpened teeth and I could do nothing to stop him. This was it, I thought to myself, the moment I had been running from since that tragic night eight months ago. Because Chan was unrelenting, drinking with long, painful bites that sent a searing pain down my spine as my body fought against the significant blood loss. Everything was cold and I wondered if death always felt this unpleasant.
However, the sudden reverberation of a loud snarl forced me to reconsider the darkening spots in my vision, searching behind me when I realized the brutal aspect of Chan’s bite had suddenly subsided. I felt my mouth drop open in horror, but the feeling quickly disappeared when I realized Officer Smith had speared Chan straight through the heart with a silver stake. The impact was immediate and Chan’s body dropped to the floor unceremoniously, leaving me with only a pair of red eyes gazing unblinkingly from the beyond. Meanwhile, Officer Smith offered me a kind smile that seemed out of place considering the blood staining the front of her uniform. “You deserve a better life, Y/N,” she whispered before her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed next to Chan.
It took me a moment to regain my bearings, looking around at the surrounding carnage. There was blood everywhere, bodies lying in deep puddles and contorted awkwardly from their injuries. It was a startling realization because they were all gone, both vampires and humans. There was nothing left from their vicious fight.
I was also incredibly tired and I closed my eyes despite my situation. Everything felt heavy, and I just wanted to forget the entire night before I had to comprehend the unfortunate tragedy of the Miroh Coven. I thought I deserved it considering the heavy loss weighing over my heart.
After a while, I became aware of a piercing light burning from somewhere in the distance. I gradually opened my eyes because the morning had arrived and, despite the death and destruction around me, I wanted desperately to find a better future in that beautiful light...
Epilogue- 2 Years Later
Vampires had rapidly gone into hiding, especially following the inquiry into the Miroh Massacre, as the newspapers delicately framed the tragedy. Apparently, society decided that they would no longer embrace their culture, finding more evidence of various Covens abusing the donor law which was eventually retracted in court. Subsequently, the vampires were forced to remain out of the public eye lest they face a severe punishment from the newly minted Hunters who spent their lives training to kill rogue vampires.
As for myself, I had finally taken back full ownership of my life, accepting a full-time research position that eventually led me to my future husband. After our marriage, we moved into an idyllic home in the suburbs and I gave birth to my son who proved to be everything that I needed in this world. Everything was starting to work out for me, and I was finally reassured that the past was truly forgotten because the ones who had haunted it were now gone forever.
“Mommy!” my son called, and I found him in the doorway to his bedroom looking up at me with tired brown eyes. “I can’t sleep.”
“Why is that?” I asked while gently encouraging him to lay back down on his bed.
“A kid in my class,” he said. “He told us about the vampires.”
“Yeah? Well, how would he know anything? He’s probably never even seen a vampire. Not many people have.”
“What about you?”
I shivered at the question. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Vampires aren’t a problem anymore and there are people now who can protect us.”
“Really?” he asked, and his eyes were incredibly innocent of the true horrors of this world.
“They won’t ever hurt you,” I promised my son before flipping his light switch. I closed the door gently, praying that he might sleep through the entire night in his own bed, before I walked into the kitchen for something to drink. I smirked as I popped the cork on a new bottle of wine that my husband had bought for the two of us to share. It seemed unnecessarily mischievous to drink with my son in the other room, but I still liked to indulge every now and then, especially after remaining sober for nine months during my pregnancy.
I sighed as I drained the first glass, feeling the numbing effects spread through my body like an aphrodisiac. It had been a stressful day because of some unnecessary paperwork at the research institute where I worked, but I knew that everyday couldn’t be perfect. After all, I was absolutely grateful for everything in my life, even if it caused me the occasional headache.
I started washing my wine glass, lost in thought until a strange noise outside forced me to pause in my cleaning. It sounded close to the garage attached to our house, and I figured it might be raccoons again because they were becoming a problem. I glanced out the window, shrugging when I didn’t notice anything suspicious. However, if I had only taken an extra moment to study the outline of my husband’s garden, then I might’ve noticed the unusual pair of crimson-red eyes watching me from outside.
The End.
#stray kids#skz#stray kids fanfic#stray kids yandere#skz yandere#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz minho fanfic#skz chan fanfic#skz changbin fanfic#skz hyunjin#skz jisung fanfic#skz han fanfic#skz felix fanfic#skz seungmin fanfic#Skz jeongin fanfic
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Hello, A! So I was wondering do you have any headcannons about how you and B were like at Wammy's together? PS. I thought dead men tell no tales lol (sorry about the joke if you didn't like it)
// Oh do I ever... Alternative has such potential to highlight things about B’s character that develops him into the killer of Mello’s novel. The lore surrounding the first generation (and the notion of Mello writing about a dead successor that previously filled his position - his predecessor) is more poignant than I think it was intended to come across but here are some headcanons~
Wammys House:
A & B are the first to receive their secondary alias after which it becomes a kind of right of passage for other successors, choosing their own (though often not official) - to A & B, only theirs will ever be legitimate.
A is introduced to B after only 1-2 years of being at the house
A, before becoming a letter, was taken into Wammy’s due to his intellect but only later is selected as the first attempted L-backup, probably pulled from a satellite home
Alternative & Backup (A’s perspective):
His introduction to B is a pivotal moment for him. After so much loss, he sees this as an opportunity for redemption and a return to a clear path forward, and now it is under threat. B represents for A the physical manifestation apathetic fate, he is foreign in every sense, they cannot even communicate when they are initially introduced. His presence signifies A’s disposability - B is the backup plan for when A fails, like a vulture circling over head, it looms over him like a prophesy he is trying to outrun.. though, B can also overtake him at anytime, relegating him to a future that, from A’s perspective, is neither known nor the success story that he has put so much hope in. The world for Alternative at this point in his life is an unreasonable and precarious place. All he knows, up to this point as a seven year old, is that everything is fragile and must be hard won - and there is no guarantee that one can keep what they have fought or sacrificed to obtain. --- after all, he is in line to replace L and L is about as far from vulnerable as he believes a person can get --- Maybe, B also represents a challenge that requires a level of maturity that he does not yet possess - the inevitable dilemma, that this position is of such consequence to the world, that it needs the best person for it, — and that may not be him...
There is nothing genuine in the sweet smile.
The way he extends an open hand, how his soft, his boyish voice offering “ Hello, Alternative ” …
A feels an unpleasant sensation snake up his spine like a fever’s chill, empathetic aptitude ringing in his ears with all the incongruence rolling off this boy.
His gentleness feels scripted, words trilling out of his mouth- practiced and angular; absolutely, wholly contrived. A has never meet anyone with such an emptiness in their words and actions…
A returns the greeting with a stony, silent stare - I know what you are.
They slide up from the open palm to meet the foreign boy’s gaze - Blue eyes resting soft, knowing and stormy, heaven’s skies empty of angels. Alternative is standing his ground, refusing to pretend they are not here for a reason, telling himself, “I’m not afraid…”
But, he has never seen anyone with such deep eyes.
They are the windows into an empty soul, a black abyss, absolutely apocalyptic…
Alternative is capricious in his treatment of B, vacillating between animosity and empathy- at times he’s even conspiratorial , allying himself with B and undermining their superiors- beginning to identify with B (even in spite of the language barriers). Backup is clever and naïve and careless, and unreserved in a way that A wishes he felt safe to be. B is the only one that can truly grasp what he is going through but he is also very strange... -- Alternative struggles with trials & setbacks that roll off Backup’s back with ease. B is several years into his understanding of his eyes and it shapes how he moves through the world, what he feels is worth his pain, what ultimately just doesn’t matter. A is, in some ways, what B might have become if he were a little more ignorant, spared the ever present reminder that this is all so temporary.
Alternative has many faces that none are as acutely aware of as B- it is why he doesn’t take the quips and backhanded apologies personally. Alternative’s identity has been tailored to his circumstances — so much of it he had to leave behind to become this -- to his superiors, he is mature, disciplined and motivated -- exemplary if not a bit too austere. To those that benefit him, he is considerate and trustworthy- and honest. To those that he fears will take advantage of him, he is an arrogant and harsh - conniving and spoiled. When he is caught without a persona on hand, he is awkward, reclusive, and reserved. Despite this, his cardinal traits are eloquence and persistence, he thinks deeply about his place in the world and who he should be but not enough on who he is — Only B is audience to moments when he is short sighted and immature, when he is undone or humiliated - when he is elated or truly.. afraid of what lay ahead of them. When he is sick or less than who he wants to present himself as, B has been there whether he wanted him to be or not.
Alternative is attracted to B though it is initially a disquieting realization, one even he doesn’t entirely understand. It isn’t that B is unusually good looking or charming — though perhaps A has peculiar tastes that B unintentionally satisfies (I can’t imagine him actually trying)... The level of intimacy involved in knowing someone this long, on such a personal and inescapable level has made B a source of unwavering acceptance, — because he had to be. The alternative would have been sleeping next to someone he would gradually come to despise any who really wants to live that way? Yet, B comes to represent stability and unconditional regard that feels a lot like love. There is a fraternal element to it in that B anchors who he is. B is someone that has a history with him that hasn’t been erased or eroded -- that contradicts A’s perception of the world as fragile or finite - it is comforting to have something seemingly permanent ... and terrifying that he cannot start anew, if he doesn’t like who he is and cannot be hidden in the obscurity that L enjoys.
When B begins to insinuate an interest in something more, A is not initially receptive and becomes genuinely distressed. This doesn’t translate with any logical sense to B, who believes it’s born out of A’s latent fears of realizing his own sexuality... But, by the time they are entering late adolescence, A is more concerned with the prospect of romance and that becoming L is destined to be a lonely path. He sees their childhood in it’s twilight as a tragic loss that cannot be reclaimed or rewritten, and B’s subtle advances as destructive to the purity of their friendship -- but he can’t stay a child forever even if he feels a sense of unfinished business surrounding it and he can’t keep B there either... It takes B’s attention shifting elsewhere for A to begin softening to the idea that B isn't ruining what's between them but expanding on it.
Alternative has experienced depression -- at some point he was prescribed SSRIs, as a part of basic care for successors. While it does alleviate the depth of his lows, he begins to worry that it is dulling the sharpness of his mind, which he has come to see as central to his self-worth. It may have no foundation in reality but A develops an inconsistent relationship with any medication prescribed to him out of those fears. In the end, - there are some things medicine cannot fix...
A few other small things:
- A loves the smell of lavender and grass, it reminds him of his home though as he gets older this memory is more elusive and he begins to wonder if they memories from funeral flowers or even if they are impressions left over from a dreams.. did he even attend his parents funeral?
- A knows they aren’t allowed to take pictures of each other in Wammy’s for good reason but when Y sneaks a camera into the house one summer evening, he is can’t deny there is something precious about having pictures of B perched on the railing of the back steps - his hair sweep by the wind just as he turns his eyes to look, soft unfocused, — like the tender look he gives him just as he wakes up in the morning before he remembers who they are. A traces the lines of his face while lying beneath his bed, where he tucks it between the boards. It’s only a few years later that he will see how much his friend has matured. -- B hates photographs and will place them face down when they go into Roger’s office. Roger has never understood why.
- A drinks his coffee and tea black as tar. B thinks it is terribly bitter but will bring it to him anyway, unaltered. There is something uniquely enjoyable in knowing that B doesn’t need to be told what he likes~
- A is borderline masochistic though perhaps only B has any inkling of it. He would probably never acknowledge it openly... it is degrading to get a charge out of being hurt.
- A loses his faith around age 10 but still believes that he might as well act as though there is a purpose in being good and not just adept and ruthless. The only alternative, from A’s perspective, is to believe that everything he has been through meant nothing and he will ultimately change nothing. And, that may be too painful a philosophy for him to embrace.
- A’s worst injury occurred when he was deliberately shoved off the roof by an irate B ( thatvhe provoked). While it was a watershed event for A coming so close to death and experiencing the consequences of pushing B beyond that point of caring about consequences... For Backup, this a was also critically informative event, an exercise proving the numbers were infallible -- he was genuinely surprised that A survived the fall and, to a greater degree, surprised that he felt regret in having done it ... left alone in their room to wonder for days, searching for the contraband pictures from that summer A had hidden that could prove if A was even still alive....
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handmaid - 26
PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader
WARNINGS: age gap, mention of weapons and gunshots
A/N: will i ever write a chapter without a musical reference? no as i literally cannot help myself.
NEXT CHAPTER
The night was like a warm blanket tonight yet the world somehow seemed wider, brighter as she laid against his chest, hearing his heart softly beating against his ribcage. The sound itself sent her in a spiral of her own mind, the sound itself proved he was alive, he was real and he was there. Laying down next to him was just the right thing to do despite it being at the same time the wrongest of all wrong things. Sure, this was the man Gwen had been promised to ever since she was born but at the same time whenever she was next to him he seemed like a completely different person than the mythical mob boss her mind had fabricated over the years. When she was next to him he was her lover and at the end of the day that was what overwhelmed her overall perception.
- What are you thinking about? - Sebastian slightly raised his head with precaution as to not disturb her. - You’re very quiet.
- Just basking in the feeling. - she looked up to him without really moving the rest of her body, hand remaining in its imaginary circle drawing. - We should probably return to doing what we were doing.
- I think there’s more boxes in the garage. - he sat up, arms wrapped around her figure so she didn’t fall off his lap and landed on the ground. If it was up to him, he would remain in that position for another hour with his nose buried in her hair smelling the scent of her fragrance mixed with her shampoo. - Maybe there’s something there.
- You don’t need to do this for me. - she pushed her hair to the side, cocking her head slightly as her hand searched the ground for her jumper which was colder than she would like due to the winter weather just outside. - I know you probably have your own business to take care of.
- I’m a good multitasker, my angel. - he kissed her naked shoulder before she slide her jumper on, shivering at the contact of her warm skin with the cold fabric. Y/N gave him a playful smile followed by a roll of the eyes before getting up, picking up his garments in the process and throwing them at him.
Smiling like a fool who just won the lottery, and in a certain way he sort of had, he got dressed up in the wrinkled clothes and wrapped his arm around her natural waist before leading her out of his office and into the life to the garage. If there was a room in the house that was always, if not ever since its construction, in chaos, it was the garage. Whatever he didn’t want in his home anymore or anything for which he didn’t have space, he would send it down to the garage which meant the room was filled to the brim with boxes and boxes along with some record books and more contracts, most likely belonging to his father as Sebastian prided himself in keeping an electronic copy of all his contracts, just in case. Y/N couldn’t help herself but sneeze at the amount of dust that had gathered over the years as she grabbed one of the boxes. Surely he had enough money to hire someone to clean it, however it seemed to always escape his mind.
Sebastian took the other side of the box created walls while Y/N started to go through the first box which weirdly was filled with clothes, children’s clothes. She cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but continued to go through the box’s contents, carefully putting the clothing off the box by her side until she reached a silver picture frame of a woman holding a baby whose gaze was somewhere else. She smiled at the warm nature of the photo which looked to have been snapped unknowingly. Her fingers traced the contours of the photo as she wondered who the two individuals were until she felt Sebastian’s hand on her shoulder.
- That’s my mother. - he pointed at the woman in the photo. - And that’s me.
- Why is this photo here? - she asked, turning her head to stare at him. Y/N knew Sebastian clearly had a soft spot for his mother as he spoke of her like any kid spoke of their parents, something that didn’t seem to occur whenever he mentioned his father whose relationship seemed to be more apprentice-master than father and son.
- In all honesty, I didn’t even remember it was down here. My father got rid of most stuff related to my mother after the divorce. - his hand left her shoulder as he took a seat next to her.
- You’ve never spoke to me about your mother. At least not a lot. - it was in her nature to be curious, she found the most she knew about people, the best she could connect and help them out. Sebastian normally would’ve taken curiosity at harsh value but whenever she asked him something, he couldn’t help but feel wrapped around her kind nature.
- Well, they got divorced when I was 6 or 7. Bad divorce, my mother didn’t have enough money to get a legal team so my father got everything, including me. One visit a year ... she ended up dying when I was 14.
- I’m so sorry, Seb. - she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his temple, trying to console him the best way she could. Sebastian however had closed that wound a long time ago and instead looked inside the box she was looking at, recognising most of the items as childhood belongings. With a curious look in her eyes, his hand rummaged through the box’s belongings taking an old teared by time stuffed bunny which gained Y/N’s attention. - What’s that?
- Oreo. - he said nonchalantly.
- Oreo? - she giggled. - It has a name? You don’t mean to tell me that the mob boss had a stuffed animal named Oreo.
- Mob bosses aren’t born mob bosses. - he put the stuffed animal back in the box. - I thought one of my kids might want it someday but if they’re anything like Gwen, I think they won’t want something this old.
- Right. - she swallowed her worries which kept telling her that she would never be the one to bore him a child. Mr. Williams words rang inside her mind like terrifying echoes. Mistress. Mistresses don’t get happy endings. - Well, you have good taste, Oreo is a great name.
- Good taste ... - his eyes seemed to rewind to a past time, leaving Y/N to look at him weirdly as he jumped on his feet to walk to a little shelf filled with books which turned to be photo albums. Looking through several pages in second-like intervals, he finally stopped in the middle of the album, a smile on his face as his memories proved right. Quickly moving towards the young handmaiden, placing the book in her lap. Her eyes glued to the photo which was of a round table filled with mostly men and little to no women, however, a specific woman stood out in the middle of everyone, a kind smile contrasting with the tight lipped smirks of the rest of the crowd. Around her neck a golden necklace just like the one which was wrapped around the young handmaiden’s neck. - I knew I remembered the name Robin.
- What happened to her? - Sebastian sadly couldn’t answer this question as he was rather young and most of the times forbidden to even be close to any of his father’s parties or dinners. Y/N flipped through the pages noticing she showed up in a few more pictures before completely disappearing. - She seems to stop appearing.
- Whoever she was, she was no mere worker. My father had a rather elitist taste when it came to who got to attend his dinners and parties. - the theory that her parents didn’t want her screamed at her again. At that point, it just sounded like the most plausible theory. Noticing this shift his attitude, Sebastian closed the photo album, putting it away from her. - You don’t need to keep going, angel. You turned out just fine without them.
- I know. - she forced a smile, trying to see if she could fool Sebastian but he was much too familiar with her characteristics to be easily fooled. Sighing, Sebastian took her hands in his, slowly yet surely getting her on her feet.
- I think that’s enough detective work for today. - he leaned down, pecking her lips two times, a smile on his face. Y/N nodded, thinking it would be best if she didn’t dig in the past and together they returned to the lift which took them back to the penthouse. The lift doors slowly open and Y/N noticed her suitcase standing slightly to the side of the lift. She didn’t think much of it knowing Sebastian to be a man who had man for everything so he had probably gotten someone to grab it earlier than mentioned. Even with that, she felt a somber heavy vibe in the air as she located her suitcase, something that seemed to push her down, like a weight. - Your suitcase is here.
- Oh ... I guess I should just unpack. - his words took her from the glued, almost hypnotic glare at her own bag. Sebastian shrugged, letting her do her own thing, only offering his help to help her move the suitcase into her bedroom to which she declined.
Her intuition was telling her to be careful and as such, she closed the door behind her immediately opening her suitcase. There was nothing odd about it, mostly filled with the clothes she had brought to the Forrest along with other objects and personal belongings. Still there was a heavy weight which seemed to grow heavier and heavier as she folded her clothes and put them back in her wardrobe which hit a climax as she noticed a piece of white like fabric right at the bottom of her suitcase. She took a step back however her hand leaned forward, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric as if the fabric itself were a bomb.
The fabric itself didn’t feel worn out and as she raised it into the air so she could inspect it better. It was an old fabric which at his prime was white but had started to grow slightly yellowish with the passage of time, the material of cashmere itself however still had the same comfort of a new one, almost as if it had never been worn. However, the most notable feature of the blanket was the cursive embroidery spelling Ella next to the silhouette of a robin. Without much thought to it, she brought the blanket up to her nose, inhaling what was reminiscent of fresh rosemaries on a hot summer day spent in a garden. Then out of the sudden, just as her nose sensed the scent of the blanket, a loud gunshot sound seemed to reverberate from the back of her skull to the front. She let out a scared scream, dropping the blanket on the floor as if the fabric was burning her hands. Her eyes scanned the room, looking paranoiacally for where the gunshot could’ve come for but there was nothing in her bedroom, there was no one in her bedroom. That was until Sebastian broke into her bedroom, black revolver set in the air to which she immediately put her hands up, noticing there were few tears rolling down her cheeks and meeting at her chin. Sebastian lowered his gun, after inspecting her bedroom for any threats.
- I heard a gunshot. - her breathe came rather harshly through her mouth, almost as if she had been holding in her breathe.
- There was no gunshot, angel. - his hands cupped her face, kissing the top of her forehead as she leaned into his embrace. - Your mind’s playing tricks on you.
- No, I heard it. - she heard it, she could still hear it ringing in her ears like a never ending sound. Sebastian’s lips tightened as he embraced her tighter, letting go of his revolver on top of her bed. - I heard it.
- I know, angel. I know. - he spoke very lowly, whisper-like even. - You’re tired, you need some rest.
- I swear I heard it. - she looked around, her eyes convincing her that there was no real danger but her mind telling her to keep her guard up, specially when the blanket on the ground caught her attention once more like a cursed amulet. Like a child, she hid from it on Sebastian’s shoulders, the contrasting cedar wood scent almost erasing the soft and fresh rosemary from her mind. She had heard it, she knew she had heard it. - Maybe you’re right, I just might be tired.
- C’mon, I can make you a cheese toastie. - he rubbed her arm soothingly, a inviting smile on his reddish pink lips which just always looked so inviting. - It’s gonna be alright, angel.
- Well, I’m surprised you can use a sandwich maker. - Y/N pushed the worries to the back of the brain, that part you only see when you’re trying to fall asleep or too lost in your own mind to visit those darkest parts which you hope disappear with time.
- I’m not completely incompetent in the kitchen. - she looked up at him, a seemingly calm smile masking all her worries. - I never set it on fire.
- What an amazing astonishment. - she giggled, a hand coming to stand in front of her lips.
- C’mon angel, let’s get some food in you.
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