#when love reigns au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wildestdreamsblog · 4 months

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Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room. He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

“Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector.

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler.

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 months

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H̵̩͋o̸̹͒l̶̢̑ď̸͕ ̵͔͛T̴̲̄h̶͙͋e̶̤͘m̵͍̋ ̷͓̈D̵̯͛o̶̡̅w̵̖̃n̵͝ͅ

Get in the Water AU: Original Post Ruthlessness

Ghosts were physiologically different from humans.

It was something Tucker and Sam didn't understand. They saw Phantom as "Danny with superpowers," not as a fundamentally different being.

Sometimes, Danny didn't understand either.

But his parents did. Utter disregard for the scientific method aside, the Fentons were the ones who learned how inhuman ghosts were: "Just emotions and electricity imprinted on ectoplasm, Danno, nothing to be scared of!" Snapshots of people at the moments of their deaths. The past and the present, incapable of contemplating the future.

And with his duality, Danny struggled to understand either of his halves.

As a human, Danny could move past his nightmare of a childhood, compartmentalize and think to the future, when he was fully healed and his past couldn't hurt him anymore. So when Dora, first elected Queen of the Infinite Realms - long may she reign - asked him to collect all the resurrected humans for a health check and assessment... when he'd noticed Damian Al Ghul-Wanye on the list... He'd thought up a little prank to pull on his long-lost brother. A cruel one, perhaps, but nothing harmful.

As a ghost, Danny couldn't move on. He could never forget that Sam led him to his death, that his parents negligence allowed for the stage to be set, that the lab they loved so much held both his home and his grave. Just as Danny would always be that fourteen year old, caught in that moments, he was still the 7-year-old Danyal Al Ghul who trusted his brother not to hurt him... and ended up poisoned.

Phantom wanted his murderer to suffer.

And Danny, much to his shame, had allowed it.

For a few weeks, Danny managed to ignore it. He'd gone after Damian first, so there were tons of resurrected on his list. He started with the more extreme cases first, like Constantine, but soon enough the next on his list was Ra's Al Ghul.

He'd asked Queen Dora to send someone else, anyone else. That he wouldn't be able to control himself if he saw his grandfather again. Instead of relieving him, she'd given him a knowing look and told him to follow his core's desire.

She never mentions it, but Queen Dora had been a murder victim too.

There was no showmanship, no dramatic reveal. Just Danyal, his grandfather, and the Pit.

Despite all Ra's Al Ghul's power, he was no match for a spirit hellbent on drowning him.

That's what Danny did to his grandfather. He'd thrown up afterwards, once he was human before. But the ghost in him relished the act; he could still feel Grandfather's throat under his hands, pulse fluttering against his palm as Danyal held him down. He struggled and shook as the Lazarus waters filled his lungs, burning away healthy tissue. Fingernails morphed into claws that sliced through the tender skin, blood leaking into the water, and water leaking into the blood.

It took a long time for Grandfather to die. Deep within Danny, next to his core, he knew it was what was deserved. That the murdered finally had justice. He was content with never speaking of it again, a secret between him and the waters.

And now it was going to happen again as Phantom's impulsive mind overtook Fenton's tactical one.

He'd known Damian was looking into him. Knew another confrontation was inevitable, what with two more of his siblings needing their health checks. But as Danny was stalking their mother, searching for the best way to abduct her (she was still his mother after all, he didn't want her dead... yet), Damian and his family confronted her.

Relief washed over him as only a normal amount of rage bubbled up at the sight of Damian, instead of the overwhelming, all-consuming fury he'd felt. Danny laughed at their arguments, at Constantine thinking he could put a living ghost to rest, at his siblings-unmet and his father-unknown, until...

Damian confessed.

His murderer confessed, yet as he continued to speak, to explain, the fury rose in him again. Because it wasn't a betrayal. He'd always thought Damian betrayed him, but no.

Through his own ruthlessness, Damian gave him the only mercy he could manage. And there was only one thing Danyal wanted now.

""̸̲̈́T̶͘͜ä̵̢li̸a̶̬̓ ̴̬̐A̵̛̪l̸̲̚ G̸̛̫h̶̺̏u̸̢̚l!̴̳̈́ D̷̩̕o̸͛ͅ ̶̝̍y̴͙͘o̵̙͐u̵̬̓ ̴̤͂k̸̡̑n̵͓̈́o̷͈͝w̷͖͂ ̷͓͑w̴̧̄h̵̲͌o̴̮̔ ̵̼́Ị̷̂ ̷̣̽a̵̳̓m̷̩̓?̷̝͒"̷̧͠"

It was her fault. She was the reason why he was dead, nothing more than a coward who couldn't go against her father for the sake of her children. She abused them, she struck his brother, it was her fault-

"Danyal," she answered. And Danyal grinned, fanged and sharp.

He approached, the waters of his birthplace lovingly brushing against his legs, consoling him the only way they knew how. They whispered revenge into his ears, madness into his heart, just as they had when he'd confronted Damian, when he murdered Grandfather. "You have much to answer for, daughter of the Demon Head," he said, voice echoing around the room.

Unrestrained greed filled her gaze. "You've returned to me, my son."

Danyal laughed, brutal and rough. "I've returned for you, Mother," he corrected. "Don't think this reunion will end well for you."

"You mean to hurt me, Danyal?" she crooned, all false hurt and fake love.

"I mean to kill you."

Genuine anger flashed across her face. "My son would never-"

"Y̵̺̆o̴̩͂u̸͉̕r̷̰͝ ̴͔͝s̵̡̉o̶̡̎ň̵̞ ̶̗̈i̴̘̍s ̸̦̐d̴̯̚ê̶͚á̶̩d̷̻̈́," he snarled, and Damian flinched. He was too close to Talia. "You wanted me dead... for being weak. For having mercy." He stared up at his mother's shocked form. "I killed Grandfather. Tell me, is that ruthless enough for you, Umi?" Talia flinched with just her eyes. He hadn't been allowed to call her Umi since he was three.

Their father stepped forward, the naked distress on his face contrasting with his battle armor. "Danyal," he plead. "You don't have to do this-"

"Stay out of this, Baba." The man's breathing hitched. "This doesn't involve you."

Constantine tried to talk him down next. "It does, kid. A Siren on your level can't stay around for long. It's time for you to rest."

Danyal threw back his head and laughed. "As if you could stop me, exorcist." No more delays. It's time for action. "I will drown you all before you can."

Danyal lunged. And despite his mother's decades as an assassin, she couldn't kill what was already dead.

He held her down by the throat, the attacks from Damian's family bouncing off him. "This is mercy," he cooed as she desperately clawed at his hands. "For me. For Damian. For everyone you will try to hurt in the future. Ruthlessness is the only mercy I can give you now." Her face turned red as she gaped for air and Danyal-

Was thrown back into the water.

Reorienting himself, he found John Constantine standing over his mother, protecting her from him. "̷̪͂E̷̺͐x̷̝̑ŏ̶̺ȑ̴͉c̷̟͘i̸͔̋s̶̮̀t̶̯͝."

And the Pit's water began to rise.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #c: danny fenton #c: danyal al ghul #c: ra's al ghul #c: talia al ghul #c: damian wayne #c: john constantine #Danny is just using the lazarus pits as portals to the Ghost Zone without realizing they're poisoning him with Pit Madness #the pits are sentient and love him #the pits also love jason that's why he has permanent pit madness #with the amount of murder victims dumped in there it really cares about fellow victims the most #anyway with the circe saga out i thought of a sequel to Storm so that'll be fun #get in the water au

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ki-yomii · 3 months

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down on you | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, hair pulling, standing missionary, rough sex, porn w/ plot, mafia!jk, detective!reader, established relationship, mild angst, mild violence ➥ summary | It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all. ➥ notes | the mafia!jk au no one asked for aka an excuse to write smut w/ feeling lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

On his knees staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a mouthful of blood, he knows this is the end of the line. He’s going to die like a rat in the gutter - no mercy to be found, loopholes to exploit or bribes to be made.

This is the real deal, and there’s no coming back.

Judgement Day comes in the form of a man with dark eyes and a dangerous smirk: Golden, the deadliest guard dog of the underground.

Credited with dozens of hits, you won’t know he’s there until it’s too late. Trying to keep him pinned is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, or a whisper on the wind.

And you won’t know he’s coming until you feel the breath on the back of your neck, hear the crack of a bullet ringing in your ears.

Belonging to one of the most powerful men in the world: Kim Namjoon, he’s more war machine than man.

“Go ahead, do it!” He spits at Golden’s feet, a mess of blood and drool staining the crisp leather of his combat boots. “Killing me won’t change a goddamn thing.”

A coy smile tugs at Golden’s mouth, his grin all sharp teeth and violence. He stays where he stands, his silhouette haloed by distant streetlights.

Water laps at the docks, the tang of salt heavy in the mid-summer Seoul air. There’s no rush; they both know he’ll be dead and dumped just like all the rest of the garbage in this rotting city.

“Come on, you prick! Pull the fucking trigger already.”

Golden cocks his head, and hums in the back of his throat.

“Tch! I hope you’ve got a lot of bullets - we’re gonna knock the crown off Kim’s head one way or another.”

Golden thumbs at the safety of his gun, the barrel glinting through the shadows. “Ahh, is that what you think?” He shrugs, a lazy ripple of muscle. “Well, I have to say: I’d love to see you try.”

The night is shattered by the resounding crack of a gunshot and an echoing splash of something heavy dropping into the water below.

You climb out of the nondescript government-issue car. The faintest tremble of your fingers nearly gives you away but you’re able to reign in the impulse to smooth your hands over your clothes at the last second.

Showing weakness is the last thing you need to be doing right now.

Especially here.

Right in front of where you’ve parked - shoved between two looming apartment complexes - sits a quaint, vintage building. The rough brick face is at odds with the sleek surroundings, but tinted windows keep prying eyes at bay while the classy signing hanging above the door reads The Red Bullet written in caps.

If you didn’t know better, it would be hard to believe this otherwise mundane storefront is a cover for one of the most dangerous international organizations based out of South Korea.

Not only do they hold the keys to the kingdom, but their success is largely in part because they spearhead operations from government espionage all the way to simple blackmail.

Even though it’s been several months since you darkened its doorstep, the familiar sight is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Send your heart galloping into a tailspin as your stomach swoops.

While time away helped clear your head of stolen kisses and promises whispered in dark rooms, it also drove the longing bone deep.

In those quiet moments to yourself, when you have nothing else to distract from how lonely you are, you miss this place like one misses a limb.

You didn’t realize how attached you were to these four walls until it was too late: the hazy air filled with whorls of smoke, the overhead lights that bathe everything in red, the plush chairs you spent many nights sprawled across, the glossy black stages.

You don’t know how, you don’t know when but at some point it (he) started feeling like home. A luxury you can’t afford. Not again. After all, if you give in, any progress you made outside of his gravitational pull will be for naught.

Which puts you in a dangerous position as you find yourself back where it began; feelings at war with duty, mind vs heart. Because even if it leads you to a place you could go a million years without ever seeing again, you have to follow the trail of bodies.

A bouncer grants you access, the heavy door slamming shut behind you like a death knell as he herds you towards the back of the club.

It’s outside of official operating hours but it’s no less busy inside, men and women alike in scattered conversation as you pass through.

“It’s nice to see you again,” the bouncer murmurs, chancing a quick glance at your profile. “Been a while.”

You swallow, gaze darting down to your shoes. “Ah - yeah… Got busy with work. It’s - it’s nice to see you too.”

The small talk fizzles out, a snuffed candle as you arrive at a cordoned off room, “Here we are. Mr Kim is already expecting you.”

Any further pleasantries grow stale on your tongue as you enter the private booth, fighting against the lump in your throat to manage a hoarse ‘thank you’.

And then you find yourself left alone with the man himself, Kim Namjoon. He’s as intimidating as you remember, lounging back into the leather booth with his ankles crossed.

A lukewarm smile stretches across his lips, the slightest hint of a dimple peeking out from the valley of his cheek. Standing at attention on either side of his reposing form are two massive bodyguards. Their hands rest on the butts of their guns, daring any who enter to try and make a move.

“It’s good to see you again. But I gotta ask - what’s the occasion, Detective?” Namjoon hums. “I thought we were past all this.” He waves a nebulous hand between your bodies. “After all, you’re practically family.”

You ignore the hidden barb with a wince. “Mr Kim, you know why I’m here.”

“I used to know why a long time ago.” A well-groomed brow raises, his gaze glacial as it spears you in place. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“Please, Mr Kim. I don’t want to make this more difficult than it is. I just need to know about the man they fished out of the harbor, and then I’ll be on my way. So… who was he?”

Namjoon scoffs. “What makes you think I know more than the police?”

There’s a flash of a smirk, barely noticed, before his face returns to its neutral expression. As calm and cool as a placid river. “A john’s a john. What I do want to know is why you care so much?”

The underlying question is clear; why are you really here?

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters with civillians.”

“Oh? So I’m a civilian now.” His expression is not unlike the cat that caught the canary: vicious and delighting in the discomfort his evasions are causing. “Gotta say that’s a new one for me.”

Sighing in defeat, you say, “Alright, enough. I get it. I’m wasting my time with you. Let me ask this instead: where is he?”

“He doesn’t know any more about this than I do,” he says, waving a blase hand towards a door off to the left, “But if you insist, you can find him in the office. Oh, and Detective?”

“...Yes?”

“Take your time, I’ll be out on business all afternoon.”

With a curt nod, you flee the room amid low-throated chuckles and enter the office. Standing near the desk, his broad back turned towards the door, you find the man you simultaneously want to see the most and run from the fastest.

He turns around, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement. Your breath stutters in your chest, and you nearly swallow your tongue as your eyes trace over the cut of his body.

The moment your eyes meet, those many months spent cultivating time and distance turn to ash. You forgot how even the mere sight of him affects you, any resistance to his many charms virtually nonexistent as the world falls away.

Rich, coffee dark; his gaze sucks you in until it’s all you can do not to reach out, to brush your fingers over his edges and feel them soften beneath your palms.

Rocking back on your heels, you clear your throat and glance to the side as you remain standing in the entryway, more than a little off-kilter.

Coming back after so long apart, only to find him the same as the day you left… How do you reconcile everything that’s changed with everything that was?

“Well, hello there.” Jungkook croons, leaning his hip against the corner of the desk with a roll of his shoulders. His arms cross over the trunk of his chest, accentuating the bulk of his chest, the flex of inked bicep. “Long time no see.”

Shifting, you gulp. “Ah - yeah…”

The burn of his gaze - a palpable sensation prickling across your skin - tracks a path from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he gives you a thorough once-over.

“You’re looking good,” Jungkook hums in approval, “real good. I’ve missed those pretty eyes of yours.”

“You - you too.”

Your attention doesn’t know where to settle: drifting from the curve of his shoulders to the jut of his bloody knuckles, the tuck of his trim hips to the thick-soled combat boots.

Tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and your palms slick with sweat.

“I mean, you look… y’know, uh, good too.”

A flash of a crooked smirk, the raising of a pierced brow gets your blood pumping, your heart tattooing a rhythm against your ribs. Emboldens you to reach back with shaky fingers to turn the lock. The sound grates down your spine, bolts of anticipation slicing through you.

It was dumb to think coming here, seeing him again, would end any other way than his taste on your tongue and his cock in your cunt. Hope makes fools of us all.

Should’ve known better but you’d been hopeful those days were long behind you. Now you realize it was inevitable.

After all, Jungkook is magnetic.

The black hole at the center of your universe, consuming everything in its path until he’s what remains in your head, your heart. You’re helpless, ceaselessly drawn to him like a moth to flame.

And try as you might, you can’t say no to a face like that.

Never could, in fact.

Failure to extract yourself from his orbit during your not-relationship is nothing new. That doesn’t mean you can’t make it difficult.

After all, you still have some dignity intact.

So try, try, try again.

“Ahem.” You try to banish the heat from your cheeks, guiding the conversation into the correct territory. “I’m not here on a-a social call, Jeon. I need to know: were you the one that killed and dumped the john in the harbor?”

Stalking closer, a lazy jungle cat on the prowl, Jungkook crosses the distance between you. He only stops once your bodies brush with every labored inhale. Heat radiates from him, and you’re achingly aware of every point of contact.

The light scent of his cologne teases your nose, and his eyes - god, his eyes. They’re shaded and hungry, devouring your expression with single-minded possessiveness.

“What makes you think I know anything about that?”

“Jeon -- Jungkook.”

He hums.

Your heart thrums, pulse rushing hard through your head until you feel faint, blood surging the longer you stay in close contact. The shameful clench of your cunt makes your cheeks burn all the brighter.

The last time you were looking up at him like this, his hand was on your jaw while his cock thrust balls deep.

“C’mon, you know that isn’t going to work. This is me you’re talking to, not some rookie.”

“Mm,” he purrs, “it is you I’m talking to, isn’t it?”

You manage to bite back the groan but can’t stop your eyes from rolling even if there’s the slightest hint of a stutter when you reply, “Please, I just need to know if you killed him.”

Jungkook looms tall and proud, crowding closer. “And if I did, baby?” he asks.

Instinctively you back up, only to be followed step by step. A game of cat and mouse that finds you pinned against the wall before long. With nowhere to run, you watch, heart in your throat, as Jungkook dips his dark head.

His nose runs along the length of your neck, breath puffing across your sensitive skin as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I - I…”

“Would you see me in handcuffs?” His lips caress the underside of your jaw, a soft groan escaping him. “… C’mon, answer me. Would you?”

“I would - if I had to.”

As much as you wish that was true, you know in your heart of heart's you would do everything in your power to make sure that never happens.

No matter how much you like to think you’d do the right thing when push comes to shove, you’d choose him a thousand times over.

His eyes dance playfully. “Careful, I might like it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” you say with a snort.

Jungkook chuckles low and warm, using the arm around your waist to tug you into the safety of his body. The softness of your breasts presses into the hard planes of his chest, your nipples pebbling through the thin cotton shirt you wear.

With a deep-throated groan, his hands encircle the curves of your hips as a thickly muscled thigh slots between yours.

An answering quiet sigh gets his blood pumping and his cock twitching.

“Mm, something tells me you’d enjoy it just as much, Detective.”

The use of your title is a rude awakening.

“Jungkook,” You warn, moving to push him away. Only once you start touching him, you can’t stop. His muscles flex beneath your curious fingertips. “We really shouldn’t.”

You’re sure if he could, Jungkook would spend days worshipping between your thighs, velvet heat wrapped around his tongue and hands in his hair as he brings you to peak again and again until you’re a sobbing, sopping, boneless mess beneath him.

“Come on, I know you want me - that you’ve missed me. I can see it in your eyes.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tongue flickering out for a brief taste before a rough thumb skates across your bottom lip, tugging down to expose your teeth, the glitter of your tongue as it darts out to flick over the pad of his finger..

“I’ve certainly missed you, baby. Want me to show you?”

Even though you refuse to admit anything out loud, you can’t help but angle your throat back and grind into his hips pressed against yours.

Jungkook tsks, “That’s alright. I’ll get that pretty mouth open one way or another.”

Before you can retort, a mouth swoops down to fuse with yours in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. A low, broken moan punches from your chest.

Reaching up, your fingers sink into the mane of dark hair that brushes the cut of Jungkook’s jaw. Soft, thick, and wavy in your grip; you tug at the roots.

Jungkook hisses.

Teeth nip at your lip, kittenish licks soothing away the string as blood bursts across your tongues. The thigh shoved between yours grinds up with every wet, sloppy pass of your lips.

Thick muscle spreads your pussy open through the thin slacks of your work uniform. Sparks of pleasure dance down your spine with every rock against your swollen clit.

“S-Shit!” Your shoulders curl in, a shudder jerking through you. “K-Kook, I… !”

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Jungkook growls, rutting his cock against the jut of your hip. The wet patch you’re making on his jeans grows larger with every filthy grind. “You’ve been gone too fucking long. Never again, you hear me?”

You claw at his shoulders, stuttering out, “there’s noth-ing you can do t’stop me.”

“If you don’t come back to me,” his eyes are dark and stormy, voice whiskey rough, “I’ll find you.”

It’s not a threat - it’s a promise.

“Then make sure I never want to leave,” you challenge breathlessly, staring into his blown out pupils, “Make me want to stay.”

Above all else, you think.

The words are barely past your lips when Jungkook accepts your challenge with gusto (just like you knew he would). Without delay, he thumbs open the button on your pants.

Refusing to let you look away, Jungkook yanks them to your feet and swings you up into his arms one-handed. They hang from your ankle like a chain.

Your surprised squeak is quickly swallowed up by a moan when he settles you over the bulge in his pants, your cunt hovering over his erection.

The heat of his skin sinks through the thin cotton of your panties, so, so close to where you need him. Slick soaks into the fabric, and clings to your inner thighs.

Every shift is a smooth, sticky glide of folds that stirs, and stokes the ember of desire smoldering behind your navel.

“Kook,” you breathe. “Please.”

Your head rolls back, and you sag into his chest. Your hips twitch in pathetic little attempts, trying to get pressure where you need it. Having him hot and hard and all for you; any distance between you is suddenly unbearable.

He needs to spread you wide and stuff you full with every inch of his thick cock until he’s so deep you won’t be able to walk for days.

“Shh baby, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, gaze heavy and possessive. “I’m gonna ruin you so good, you’ll have no choice but to come back. You’re mine.”

“Says who?”

“Hmm. You don’t think you are?”

Nibbling on your ear, Jungkook slips a finger under the hem of your panties. He smirks when you keen, rubbing his knuckle up and down your sloppy folds with teasing pressure.

“How about I show you what your body already knows?”

Wasting no time, he lifts you off his cock, the scrap of cloth fluttering to the ground. His free hand dives between your bodies. Then comes the clink of a belt, the sound of a zipper pulling down.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your body coiled with anticipation as your stomach swoops at the brush of his fingers along the underside of your thigh.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” Jungkook twists his wrist, hips arching back. “And it’s all for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to get inside this pretty pussy.”

Any response dies on your tongue, brain short-circuiting as the slick, fat cockhead rubs along your slit. Pressing against your entrance the slightest bit before slipping up to nudge at your clit - coating himself up in your sticky juices.

The ultimate tease - something Jungkook’s always been overly fond of doing until you’re out of your mind with desperation.

“Please, please, please,” you chant, cheeks on fire and eyes half-lidded as you circle your hips. “Stop playing around. I want it - want you, Kook.”

“Oh, baby,” he smiles, ducking down to kiss your forehead. “You’ll take whatever I give you.”

You can’t stifle the broken sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Liquid fire surges through your veins, a thousand bolts of lightening crackling beneath the surface of your skin. Your pussy is tender, swollen. Walls fluttering in time with your heartbeat.

“Ha, you’re so needy for me.”

Jungkook’s lips brush away the moisture around your eyes, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the base of your spine. All the while, his torturous grinding never ceases.

“Aren’t you?”

You croak, “I can’t – Kook, please. Anything, I’ll do anything you want just fuck me.”

The flash of his eyes is your only warning before he’s right there, your walls embracing the girth of his erection inch by inch. Every ridge, every jerk as he seats himself as deep inside your silken heat as he can is absolute heaven.

The stretch as you take him to the hilt sends you careening towards the edge, eyes rolling back and toes curling in your shoes.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” you whimper.

“Shit!” Jungkook grits his teeth, squeezing the base of his cock as you tighten around him. With every deep inhale, his pelvis brushes your swollen, needy clit. “Forgot how good you feel wrapped around my dick, baby.”

“Me too,” You gasp, tightening your legs around Jungkook’s hips.”Me too, Kook.”

Dropping his forehead to yours, he says gruffly, “‘m not gonna last long.”

Making a noise of acknowledgement, you wiggle your hips. Sinking your teeth into the side of Jungkook’s jaw, you bite and suck at his skin, wanting to leave a mark to remember you by. His reaction is instantaneous, releasing the grip on his shaft to grab a fist full of hair.

He yanks back.

The long, elegant line of your throat is exposed to his butterfly kisses and scolding love bites.

“Now you’ve really asked for it,” Jungkook huffs out with a dirty chuckle.

“Then give it to me.” You lick your puffy lips, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Show me who I belong to.”

The brewing hurricane in his eyes is unleashed. Wide palms and strong fingers grip your hips so tight you feel bones grind together. His stance widens, his unwavering gaze locking onto your face, brow pinched, and mouth slack.

His lip piercing glints in the light, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. Dark curls tussle about his head, a wild halo that sweeps down into the burning umber of his eyes.

Helpless, you succumb - enchanted by the darkness peering at you from behind those dangerous eyes. He’s ethereal; a siren song that threatens to drown you, swallow you whole.

You’d happily let him, you realize with a shiver.

It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.

“Hold on tight,” Jungkook says, hooking his hands under your bottom.

And then, he’s jackhammering into your cunt so hard and fast all you can do is hold on for the ride. Punch drunk and moaning as he manhandles you how he likes, spreads you wide and stuffs you full until you’re panting for breath and clinging to sanity by your fingernails.

“Fuck yes, that’s it. Look how well your pretty pussy always takes my fat cock.”

His low voice whispering filthy praises in your ear makes you whimper, whine, and writhe as the band of pleasure coiling tight in your belly comes close to snapping. It’s the fastest he’s ever fucked an orgasm out of you, and it feels so good you don’t even care.

The pace is brutal, slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips come morning. But it’ll be so fucking worth it. You’re going to cum hard and long, you just know it.

About to melt as Jungkook fucks the slick out of you, groaning as you drip down the base of his cock, his balls - his very own pretty little mess.

“Yeah, you gonna cum, baby?” he laughs, pressing a sweaty kiss to the side of your face. “Can feel how - haaah shit - how tight you’re squeezing me.”

“Uh-huh,” you cry, holding onto the tops of his wide shoulders. Every thrust has his cockhead dragging over the spongy patch of your g-spot, sending fissions of pleasure rocketing through your nervous system. “So - so close, baby. Just a little more, I--”

Balancing yourself, you lift up only to slam back down, meeting Jungkook’s thrust with all the force of gravity. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Crashing over you like a tsunami, your orgasm shoots through your limbs and zips down your spine. A warm rush of cum soaks Jungkook’s shaft, the wet and messy sound of your squirt splashing against the floor secondary to the cry that claws its way out of your throat.

“K-Kook!”

Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you keep bouncing up and down on his erection. “Yeah, that’s it - keep going, baby. Wanna feel you keep cumming all over this cock.”

Aftershocks slice through you like lightning, tiny jolts of electricity. As you come down from your high, your gummy walls pulse, milking at Jungkook’s thick shaft.

He groans softly whenever your muscles tense, release; your body a worn-out rubber band as your breath stutters from you.

Then a hand pets down your flank, your skin shivering with hypersensitivity at the tender touch. “S’okay. Just breathe, baby.”

Peeling open your heavy eyes, you look up at his face. Take in the crinkle of his brow and the ravenous expression. Even floating on a sea of bliss, white noise fills your ears, you want more.

You slur, determined, “Kook, baby, please. Cum in me, want you s’bad.”

“Fuck! Can’t just say shit like that to me or I…” Jungkook bites down onto the tender crook of your neck, muffling his grunts in your flesh. “Shit - ’m so --”

You cry out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, “A-haah, K-Kook!”

Snapping his hips forward one last time, Jungkook grinds as deep as he can get and lets go. The fat head of his cock kisses your cervix, his length throbbing in time with his heartbeat as a rush of cum floods your insides.

“Yeah, just like that,” he grunts, rutting once - twice into the cradle of your body, “take it like a good girl.”

He croons when you whine at the press of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit. Thready sparks of pain shoot down your legs that hang limply over his forearms. Every breath stutters from your lungs, slow and deep.

“No more, can’t - can’t…” Shifting, you arch your spine and burrow your head into his chest, nearly catatonic in his arms. “S’too much.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Fingers brush over your closed eyelids, smoothing over the arch of your brow. With every kiss dropped to the top of your head, he mumbles in dulcet tones, “I really have missed you, you know.”

You mewl in response as strong fingers knead the backs of your thighs.

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

“Oh,” you can’t muster up enough energy to say anything more, body tender and trembling with little aftershocks, “s’that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He chuckles. “You’re staying here - right where I want you.”

In lieu of a response, you pick your head up off the pillow of his chest and seek out his gaze. Liquid soft; he’s looking at you like you hung the world on a string.

“I’ve missed you too, Kook,” you say with a gentle smile.

You’ll allow yourself this moment of weakness when there’s no space between your bodies or hearts. Titles don’t matter much when he’s cradling you to his chest like a piece of precious china.

Between the two of us, you’re the one who hung the moon and stars, you think while combing back his sweaty bangs.

And I think I love you, you whisper voiceless against his lips.

#jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook #bts jungkook

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nezuscribe · 1 year

Text

𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊

summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us

word count: 16k+

warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions

note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust

also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting for beta-reading again, love her!

You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse.

Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time.

The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside.

A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards.

You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory.

The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out.

Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around.

Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.

Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.

“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…”

You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices.

“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.

“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you.

“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor.

“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.

“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too.

“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.

Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out.

You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor.

You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-

CRUNCH.

You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store.

“I don’t know…wait here…”

You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.

It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears.

You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones.

Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.

He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you.

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life.

There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process.

“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features.

“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected.

Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before.

“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.”

The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers.

“She seems fine-”

“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human.

“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten.

“See…?”

You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do.

“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.”

But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.

“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it.

“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.

“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.

“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.

He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger.

“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”

“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing.

“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.”

He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake.

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.

But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features.

“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”

He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory.

“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer.

You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north.

“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?”

He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.

“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?”

You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink.

“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”

You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one.

They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could.

It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.

“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.

Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation.

“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.

You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you.

“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion,

You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.

“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”

She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.

“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject.

You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat.

“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”

“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up.

“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”

“So you like being part of a group?”

“Yeah-”

“Did it ever get lonely?”

“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.”

Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings.

You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes.

Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.

Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now.

You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth.

The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.

“Everything alright?”

Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response.

As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you.

Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning.

“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks.

You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.

There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.

“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight.

“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”

“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.

“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound.

“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”

You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground.

“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.”

And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.

But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now.

You hated that time between day and night more than anything.

When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it.

The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby.

Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.

“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama.

He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.

“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing.

“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.”

About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much.

“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.

“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.

“So you all grew up together?”

“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the thought.

“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.”

“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did.

“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach.

“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?”

She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit.

“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body.

Emi?

You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.

“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?”

You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do.

So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before.

You wondered why she tried to hide it.

That night you couldn’t sleep.

You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being.

The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.

After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.

You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind.

Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything.

Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers.

“Why’re you up?”

You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.

“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind.

“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you.

“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up.

You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit.

“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response.

“Insomnia or bad dreams?”

You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“You would have made a spectacular doctor.”

He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around.

“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more.

A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him.

You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything.

You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile.

“Tell me something about yourself then.”

A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement.

“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to.

“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.”

A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky.

But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time.

“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.”

You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.

“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.”

He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought.

“Is that good enough for you?”

He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away.

“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back.

“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”

“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself.

“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet.

“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time.

“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?”

For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.

“I was in a lecture hall.”

“For your doctor lectures?”

He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”

“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.”

You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.

A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.

While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did.

Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.

“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment.

“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh.

“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.

“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.

“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment.

“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was.

She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.

“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.

“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…”

When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad.

“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?”

You almost laughed. How could you forget?

“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons.

“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”

Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.

“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.

“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.

“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,” She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.

“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.

“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”

“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry.

You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone.

What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.

If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with.

“What’d she tell you?”

Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see.

There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake.

“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa.

“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”

Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame.

“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue. If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off.

He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up.

“Green.”

You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh.

“What?”

“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh.

“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.

“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason.

“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being.

“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring.

“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it.

“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed.

“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.

“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.�� You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know.

“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.

“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle.

“Everybody’s scared-”

“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.

He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek.

“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”

He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back.

“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath.

“Where?”

“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up.

You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer.

Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto.

Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side.

“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate.

“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink.

“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama.

“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself.

“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents.

“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”

He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound.

Clicking. Groaning.

“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared.

“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words.

But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount.

“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.

“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered.

“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”

“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”

“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn.

“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move.

“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected.

You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams.

“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.”

He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time.

He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.

“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.

“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away.

You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened.

A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night.

It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.

The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.

It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were.

You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare.

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table.

Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing.

You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him.

Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them.

You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.

He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look.

“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?”

You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat.

“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”

“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.”

“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf.

“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him.

“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”

“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed.

You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer.

“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.

“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground.

Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates.

You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.

Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later.

It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that.

You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly.

You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do.

From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched.

You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around.

As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book.

“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place.

You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way.

“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.”

Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself.

“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for.

His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly.

“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.

“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over.

“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement.

You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say.

“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-”

“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment.

“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else.

“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it.

“‘Toru?”

His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t.

“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it.

His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance.

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.

“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile.

He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his.

It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment.

He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory.

He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you.

Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.

“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,” He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so.

“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss.

“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin.

“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him.

But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan.

“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands.

He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has.

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.

“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling.

“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace.

But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it.

“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch.

You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay.

“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls.

“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.

“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped.

It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name.

He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot.

But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain.

“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.

“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”

“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.”

Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do.

He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him.

“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it.

“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned.

“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, “I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.”

You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it.

“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance.

“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs.

When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it.

His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake.

He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through.

“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity.

“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.

You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.

“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.”

“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you.

“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered.

His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it.

“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions.

“Umph, ��Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat.

“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.

You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss.

“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him.

“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.

The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses.

It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything.

You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.

“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit.

“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened.

He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender.

You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy.

There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received.

“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features.

“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.

He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go.

4K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 11 months

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Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Max Verstappen - Social Media AU

Little (Ferrari) Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad She Wolff

Love is in the air for these two stars of the paddock! Brace yourselves as we spill the scorching hot tea on the newest potential pairing that has set tongues wagging. The grapevine is buzzing with the latest snapshots capturing none other than Ferrari’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc, and the stunning princess of the paddock, Y/N Wolff, in what can only be described as a romantic rendezvous. Oh la la! In these sizzling photos the duo can be seen cozied up in the VIP section, captivated by each other’s company and stuck in their own world, ignorant of the busy club around them. The obvious sparks between the young heartthrobs leave fans and gossip hounds wondering if there is more than just friendship brewing between them … (Read More)

A Wolff on the Prowl: Y/N Wolff spotted getting cozy with Max Verstappen

Hold onto your racing helmets because our newest racing romance just took an unexpected twist! We had barely caught our breath from the sizzling chemistry between Charles Leclerc and Y/N Wolff when another speedster entered the picture. Some lucky fans caught Y/N locking lips with the reigning world champion, Max Verstappen, leaving us all in a state of utter shock and awe. It’s a tale as old as time, with Y/N and Max gazing into each other’s eyes like they have discovered the key to the podium of love. The intensity between these two is palpable and their beaming smiles suggest that this could be more than just a passing fling. Will this newfound affair send shockwaves through F1, leaving Charles Leclerc heartbroken and fans breathless? Buckle up, dear readers, as we brace ourselves to see how this unfolds … (Read More)

y/nwolff posted a story

Just an inchident? Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen seem closer than ever despite their apparent battle for the heart of Y/N Wolff

Rev your engines because the race for Y/N Wolff’s heart is reaching exhilarating speeds! While the rivalry between Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen is as fierce as ever on the track, it seems that outside of the race itself a surprising bond has formed between these two young stars. Interestingly, during the Austrian Grand Prix cameras caught Leclerc and Verstappen sharing an incredibly close friendship. Despite their fierce competition for Y/N’s affection earlier this week, the two drivers were spotted laughing, hugging, and inseparable whenever they had a chance, proving that friendship can indeed thrive in the midst of romantic tension. Are they genuinely defying expectations and putting their hearts on hold for the sake of camaraderie or is this just a cleverly orchestrated PR move? Only time will reveal the true nature of this intriguing friendship and love triangle they are part of … (Read More)

y/nwolff

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,285,493 others

y/nwolff Happy Pride Month 😉

View all 4,762 comments

charles_leclerc mes amours ❤️

maxverstappen1 mijn liefdes ❤️

y/nwolff my boy toys 🥵

charles_leclerc i see how it is

maxverstappen1 she only wants us for our bodies

y/nwolff kidding, kidding. i love you both more than anything ❤️

y/nwolff and of course i don’t only want you for your bodies … i want you for your cars too

mercedesamgf1 Oh

redbullracing My

scuderiaferrari God

feralferrari this is not what i was expecting

givesyouwings i don’t think anyone predicted this but they are adorable together

silverarrows y/n has the power to build one of the most insane driver lineups ever for mercedes

y/nwolff they have to survive meeting my dad after he learns that we’re together before we can even think about that 😅

lestappenbeliever this is the best day of my life

formulanone we got married a week ago?

lestappenbeliever i said what i said but our wedding was a close second

3K notes · View notes

sunboki · 2 months

Text

— ENDLESS WINTER. a Christopher Bahng fiction

Christopher Bahng x f. reader

TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst

WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing

WORD COUNT. 12k words

AUG'S NOTES. if there’s ever been a more spontaneous fic in history it would be this… every sentence is write is purely self indulgent…. (genuinely a written version of the stories i make in my head while laying in bed)

SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.

alternatively :

Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.

Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.

Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.

Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.

Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.

She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.

Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.

Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.

Growing, learning.

Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.

However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.

A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.

Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.

Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.

Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.

Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.

The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.

The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.

Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.

Had been peaceful.

A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.

Your blood runs cold.

Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.

Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.

Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.

A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.

Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.

Smell.

Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.

So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.

Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.

Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.

Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.

Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.

It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.

Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.

It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.

Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.

For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.

You won’t leave, simple.

As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.

That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.

Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.

Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.

Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.

Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.

A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.

Shoot!

The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.

However, your success is short-lived.

Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.

Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.

First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.

Beast.

With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.

This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.

“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.

His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.

The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.

Mage.

Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.

His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.

“One remained, huh.”

It’s a fever dream walking into the Kingdom that, compared to yours, looks positively flourishing with life. Beasts of all kinds roam about, carrying on with their daily lives, oblivious to the winds of death they’ve swept your way.

Everything in your body feels as if it’s shutting down, unable to feel the sensation of your legs as you trudge forward, the younger, much kinder Beast ensuring you kept pace.

Freezing temperatures carry on the longer snow falls, gluing strands of hair to your forehead, blanketing your lashes while your nose runs incessantly.

In front of you now lies the castle, far grander than you could’ve ever imagined. Twin spires peek above the low-hanging clouds, stone columns towering above.

From your distance you spot two knights positioned on either side of the entryway, large armored helmets with hawk feathers adorning the ridges.

One knight stops your ascent, the light-haired man rolling his eyes profusely.

“Minho, this is important.”

“Important enough you’re bringing a Mage into the Kingdom?”

His voice smooth as honey, he sports a dominant tone when speaking. Stare observant, he watches the other Beast’s expressions with uncanny precision.

“Because if you haven’t noticed Hyunjin,” He leans forward a bit, whispering. “You have the entire Kingdom’s attention.”

At this, either of the Beasts who escorted you turn around, and upon doing so are met with hundreds, if not thousands of eyes boring into their soul. Whether it’s younger Beasts or aged soldiers, those heinous vermillion orbs seem to see through you.

You gulp.

“C’mon,” Hyunjin harshly beckons, nudging you forward through the gates with the younger quick on his tail.

Every color in the Palace is monochromatically grey, although strikes of royal blue reside in large drapes hung from perched balconies.

Similar guards to those outside sift throughout the room, familiar hawk feathers litter everywhere in sight, paving paths to the core of the room where a throne sits.

Pointed edges flank either side of the massive chair, the ocean blue rug underneath reflecting up and out of the ceiling — a glass design stretching wide across the throne room, emphasizing the dusky weather outside.

According to the younger Beast whose title you learned as Jeongin, the King was currently participating in a hunt with Changbin (the lead hunter of the Palace), so after hasty appreciation of the sheer volume of this breathtaking castle, you’re forced toward the dungeons.

Jeongin wears a pitying frown, promising to return with some food to your chambers in the case the King doesn’t arrive for a while.

At least someone in this Kingdom doesn’t insist you’re beheaded.

“Finally, somebody else is here.”

A voice erupting from the darkening depths to your right make you jump, chained wrists clanging abruptly. Through minimal lighting of the burning lamps hastened upon the walls, you make out the silhouette of a man, face bunching in a sweet manner when he smiles.

Unusually, his hands aren’t chained.

“What’re you in here for?” You begin, gaze narrowed in confusion. The chubby-cheeked stranger smiles haphazardly.

“I would ask you the same thing. I’m the King’s Advisor, he just gets tired of me and puts me in here sometimes,” Your chamber-mate sighs, and once you take in what he professed, the urge to laugh becomes too strong to control.

Laughing for the first time in quite a while is sort of relieving, especially when this new acquaintance of yours begins whining his dismay, aimlessly trying to hush your giggles.

Red eyes. You can see them blinking up at you, gleaming when he grins his pointed teeth.

Quickly pausing, you wait in horror as he gradually sniffs in.

Your stomach sinks.

“Wait… You’re a Mag—“

His phrase is cut off by a loud ringing noise, a familiar echo of keys tunneling down the dungeons stairwell.

Another stranger unlocks the door. He’s burly, with curly hair in disarray. Cuffs of animal fur wraps around defined biceps, his top a tight-fitted arrangement of fur and woven leather paired with small iron spikes studding the shoulder lining.

A scar passes down the corner of his lip, long since healed but remaining faded.

“C’mere,” He ushers, voice gruff and rumbling when he unlocks your shackles, big hand pushing you forward up the stairs.

If anybody here had pure Beast in their bloodline, it would be this man. His demeanor is rough, but his touch on your back is surprisingly gentle whilst guiding you upward.

Again you’re granted with the wondrous sight of the Throne Room in all its historic glory, although your gaze directed at the floor keeps you ignorant to so many heads bowed, so many voices cast to silence upon the click of footsteps approaching.

And when you look up, you meet strikingly blue eyes—perhaps a genetic mutation of a sort.

They’re stunning, enrapturing almost, and you find the need to break eye contact immediate, more dire than normal while staring down at you.

Plump, full lips and perfectly sculpted facial features seem that of a Greek god’s, too ethereal to exist in your reality. A glittering, silver crown sits stark atop a black nest of hair.

Either arm rests on the sides of the throne, and you swore you’d never seen someone look so, King-like. That, and the massive cape of wolf-skin draped over his back.

A devil, dressed as an angel.

“Your Highness, this Mage was found near the L/N Kingdom by Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin while scouting the territory.” A palace-woman announces, the same guard who lingered outside, Minho, standing to your side.

Your blood boils, disregarding every ounce of amazement once inhabited.

It’s him. The man responsible for the demise of loved ones you couldn’t count on all of your fingers and toes.

Minho, as if sensing your frothing rage, mutters through his helmet a staggered warning—remaining upright and unmoving at attention.

“Do not move and do not look into his eyes unless you’re asking for death.”

Your patience dissipates, lip twitching involuntarily.

You can’t remember the last time you were genuinely angry. You were happy, surrounded by people you loved.

Those people weren’t here now, they were killed.

“You murderer! You’re a—“ Your attempt at lashing out at the King stalled when Minho kicks the crevice between your knees, forcing you down on the carpet below.

“Monster! A bloody— fucking— Monster!”

Palace representatives gasp their bewilderment, some beckoning you away to the dungeons, others urging Minho to end you right here and now.

It wouldn’t matter, would it?

The King’s raised hand stalls the accusations, his familiar clicking footsteps nearing closer till he stands before you.

Shifting down into a squat, the man tips your chin up to meet cerulean again, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Don’t get it mixed up little one,” He murmurs, the pad of his thumb controlling your movement.

“I did not kill your family. Your family killed themselves.”

Fist sharply winding around for a punch, he catches it before you can even register your predicament, iron grip strong enough you fear he might just snap your wrist in half.

“And I wouldn’t recommend fighting back, otherwise I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Concluding his threat the further he bends your wrist, you whine, face scrunching from the pain until he finally stops, amusedly surveying your expression.

Denying your own enraged shaking, you suck your teeth, focus vehemently pinned onto him.

“Why would you care about my safety?” You snarl, trying to wriggle his hold off to no avail.

“Because,” The King cocks his brows. “I like you.”

About to spit another word, he interrupts you, index tracing the veins of your arm.

“Plus, I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.”

You shiver.

Your second day and you feel as if you’re officially going insane.

The only person tolerable here is Jeongin, that chamber guard whose name you don’t know, and Felix, the castles cook. You barely see the King, and even when he’s present he’s usually quartered in his study.

What he does there remains unknown, information learned in the mere form of startled maids leaving the room and gossip among those wandering the Kingdom.

“Do you know what he does?”

Felix looks up from the dish he was laying in front of you, wispy blond locks bouncing with the movement.

“Does what?” He piques, ridding a stray piece of hair clinging to your sleeve.

“The King, what does he do all day long?”

One thing about Felix you love, his honesty. Regardless of if most would tell a quick fib and flee, Felix, although occasionally working around a topic, takes the time to actually explain things to you.

Allows you to learn more of the place you’re going to have to call home.

“Hm..” He pulls a chair from your right to drop into, and for a moment, you see Ms. Maewether in that smile of his. Your heart aches.

“Chris— I mean, King Bahng is always busy. He plans trade agreements, oversees the hunts, and basically keeps this castle alive.”

Chris?

“Who’s Chris?”

Felix nearly squeaks, burying his head in his hands. Evidently, you weren’t supposed to hear that part, but an eagerness to know more about this solitary King kept your hesitance at bay.

“That’s his name. Christopher Bahng, but you’re not allowed to call him that and not allowed to tell anyone about us having this conversa-“

“Tell who?”

You quite literally almost fall backwards in your seat, failing to anticipate the pair of hands placed on Felix’s shoulders.

A pair of hands, followed by a pair of ocean blue eyes, boring right into you and the horrified boy in front of you.

King Bahng. In the flesh.

“Oh.. Hey Chri— Hello Your Highness.”

Again he corrects. These two must know each other.

“Tell who, Felix?” He speaks, tone nothing short of teasing—though the boy looks just as startled, practically sweating through his clothing.

Still adorning that flanking wolf-cape of his, his dark hair is slightly messy, expression distorted curiously.

You hate him to admit, but King Bahng is horribly attractive.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, Your Highness,” Felix chirps, fixing you with a ‘Don’t say a word’ glare you cease to argue with.

Rising up from your seat quickly as if you had any duties in this Kingdom to tend to, you find yourself stalling.

You have so many questions. …And the overwhelming urge to slap him across the face.

You’ve received a fair warning on the latter.

“I’ll be off now, Your Highness.”

The last words come out involuntary, used to referring to your own father this way. It made you sick to know you regarded his murderer the same.

And though the King didn’t stand extremely tall (considering how young Beasts were already your height), his hulking stature felt as if it could swallow you whole, pointed canines flashing when he smiled, sending your head reeling.

Pleased.

King Bahng was pleased hearing something nonthreatening come out of your mouth.

Vile.

Yet, you simply curtsied and hurried off, ceasing to notice the immediate growl Felix directed in the King’s direction.

“Good lord, I know she smells good but you’re practically undressing her with your eyes,” The freckled boy grumbles, returned with an uninterested expression from his friend.

Before the King can head off to whatever meeting he has planned, however, he spins on his heel.

“Have you consulted Seungmin about the scent-blocking salve?”

“Possessive, are we?”

His glare shuts the cook up immediately.

“If there is one Mage left, it’s mine. And since she’s the survivor, she’s mine.”

Yeah, he’s not beating the possessive allegations. But if he’s going to gain your trust, and eventually, after much thought, become mates, he’s keeping every other Beast in the Kingdom at a distance from you at all times.

“Jeongin will report when it’s completed. And Chris?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t expect her to warm up to you.”

King Bahng hums.

“I don’t.”

And with that, Felix follows your exit, leaving the King to his own devices, your nectar-sweet smell lingering in his nose.

“If I stare at the same wall for hours and hours, shouldn’t it break by now?”

“You’re a Mage, not telekinetic,” Han replies, repetitively scanning over a piece of parchment assumed to be a guest list.

In the midst of your incessant boredom, you found yourself following the King’s Advisor around, peering over his shoulder at the endless list of haughty names written in languid ink strokes.

Amongst them, you ceased to find your father’s name. You knew it wouldn’t be there, but somehow, you wished if you blinked enough it would magically appear.

King L/N, written in that same, cursive font.

Rounding a corner, you conclude if there’s anyone you avoid more than King Bahng (a.k.a Chris), it was Hyunjin. That man was a serpent in a Beast’s body.

Catching sight of his dreaded ponytail, you hastily retrace your steps, hiding behind a massive doorframe while Han stares at you as if you’re a rodent scurrying at his shoes.

“He won’t bite y’know.”

“If only you would’ve been there when he first found me,” You whisper angrily, practically clawing at the wood desperately till he leaches you out.

Leaching enough, in fact, that you end up right in Hyunjin’s line of sight, who surveys you up and down with a cocked brow to the point you’re sure steam is billowing from your ears.

Mocking. Ruby-red, mocking eyes.

He does bite. He sinks his teeth into the flesh and tears.

You won’t bleed without biting back.

Han’s iron grip tightens on your arm as slowly, oh so slowly, Hyunjin walks closer.

The strategist prowls, edging right up in your face—noses a thread-width apart.

His glower sets your fury alight, lips curled in a deriding notion.

“No need to glare, wouldn’t want wrinkles ruining that face of yours.”

“No need to get so close unless you plan to kiss me, mutt.”

Though, just as Hyunjin preapres to lunge, a big hand holds him back, animal fur cuffs indicating it isn’t the King who stepped in.

The man who had fetched you from the chambers earlier divided either of you. Shorter, but evidently stronger.

“Control yourselves, both of you. For as long as she stays in the Kingdom, she’s The King’s property—“

“I am no one’s property,” You snarl, and the guard turns.

Basked in clear lighting, you can finally see him. Honing dark brown hair hanging above his eyebrows, the same scar resides by his mouth, though, his eyes are much kinder than you expected.

Taking a slow inhale, he reads your conflicted expression like an ornate mirror.

“One mage in the Kingdom of Beasts? Sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are his property. So as long as she’s here, nobody lays a finger on her, understood?”

Glancing to each person, either of them ease their apprehension, the bewildered Jisung next to you stifling a breath, Hyunjin rolling his eyes with a loud huff.

Baiting seconds pass, and in that period of time do you realize you never caught his name. Specifically, the guard’s name.

“Excuse m-“

“Seo Changbin,” Han interjects. “His name is Seo Changbin.”

Ah. Right.

Now on the roster of least-likely to kill you, Jeongin, Changbin, Felix, and Han.

Filled with a need to evade, you stand merely as a spectator as each horridly red hue snaps to stare at you, your heart spiking an alarming rate.

The King’s Advisor’s fingers tighten to the point you’re sure he’s blocking blood flow.

“You need to leave. Jisung, get in contact with Seungmin and see when the salve is done,” Changbin instructs, already shoving Hyunjin away.

Salve. What salve?

Failing to give you any explanation, you’re dragged off, boisterously complaining before the highly annoyed man abruptly pauses, finger nudging your forehead irritably.

“You smell.”

Then he leaves, and you’re left to wonder if you’re still in primary school or the Kingdom of Beasts.

You smell? What’s that supposed to mean?

First thing in the morning, you’re torn from your slumber with a blazing sun scorching your eyes.

Your canopy beds silken drapes doing little to block the attack, you whine to an apologetic Jisung who merely sighs in return.

“Sorry sleeping beauty, but we have an appointment to attend this morning. Can you handle getting dressed on your own?”

You roll your eyes, groggily pulling yourself upright. “I was an heiress, not helpless.”

To which he cracks a miniature grin and slips out the door, allowing you to hurriedly strip off your chemise and messily arrange your stays and petticoats.

Out of all things you’d been deprived of, a part of the L/N Clan unable to be divided was your garments.

Somewhere, in the midst of fabric and citrus scented soap, you swear you can still smell bits and pieces of home.

What this appointment entailed you failed to ask, gingerly hustled down winding hallways barely illuminated with sunlight.

The Kings Advisor expertly winds further and further down, georgian architecture littered in symmetrical golden portraits and decorum, casement glass windows twinkling as you walked past.

Having reached a dead end, you’re pleasantly surprised to watch Han jar a brass doorknob open, paving a breathtaking view of the garden ahead.

Garden had to be an understatement. This amount of foliage was nothing short of a forest.

Flowers of all kind surround your walk to a shrouded greenhouse, abnormally brick relative to it’s stone-castle counterpart. Its walls are overgrown in slithering vines, door nearly invisible without proper inspection.

Jisung, having noticed your amazed expression, chuckles.

Granted, it’s been years since you’d seen any form of green vegetation, your astonishment felt justified.

“We’ve arrived.”

Oh how you wish to stay here forever. Not captive by the Beast Clan, no, but in this garden, hidden.

And if the last door took effort to pry open, this was a new challenge entirely. Through thickets of dense hedge and tangled branches, Jisung had to quite literally ram himself into the chittering wood for entry.

“Knock next time would you?” A voice projects from inside, belonging to a man clad in rounded spectacles, a slightly hooked nose, and cleanly hair parted to the side.

The Kings Advisor, apparently having known him, beams his prize-winning smile upon seeing the man.

“Seungminnnn—“ Han drawls out, excitedly waddling over to wrap him in a crushing hug. Stiffly, Seungmin pats his back, an action you fondly watch from afar.

“Ah!” The more ebullient of the two springs up, turning to you. “This is Seungmin, he runs the apothecary here.”

Nodding stiffly, Seungmin ushers you to one of the many mahogany chairs circling a gateleg table; a vase—likely jade with its pale green hue—filled with indigo hydrangea presides in the center.

“And,” Han’s outburst cuts off your awe. “He’s practically my little brother.”

Now you’re in awe again, but for a different reason. And by the evident frown on Seungmin’s face, he can tell.

“Shocking, right?”

Yes, shocking for certain.

Though, before you can reply, Han slaps his hands on either of the man’s shoulders, expression transformed into one of seriousness.

“About time I left then, yeah?” Was spoken while his form hurriedly retreated out the door, leaving you with more questions than answers to what just occurred.

“..He forgot something again.”

Biting back your laugh, you finally take a seat, given ample time as Seungmin shuffles off to the side to acknowledge your everything to its fullest extent.

Matching the plant-infested interior, verdant drawers scatter the corners, a lone, looming medicinal cabinet left ajar as the chemist poured over a variety of assorted concoctions.

Air stained with a damp smell of earth, you notice, much to your curiosity, the longevity of such a place.

This apothecary, though inside the castle, feels like an entirely new settlement of its own. An establishment existing before the war, rebuilt (inefficiently) enough to where it was only required to stand stable.

From first sighting you’d grown an attachment to it, but this newfound understanding, these newfound details setting the apothecary apart from your predicament let you imagine yourself anywhere else, back to a nostalgia you longed for.

A short term fix.

“This.” You’re handed a phial from overhead. It’s a slightly green substance, thicker in texture that rests heavy in your hand. “Is for you.”

Slipping across from you, he surveys your analyzing, arms crossed over a deep brown waistcoat.

“And this is..?” You inquire, looking up from the cork-sealed glass.

“A salve. You had better not waste it, material is low as is and I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.”

Well that didn’t answer your question. You’ve heard conversation about a specific salve for days on end, but no genuine explanation caved in—

‘I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.’

Repeatedly mulling over the words, you can practically feel your heart palpitating, head beginning to spin.

..End already? The endless winter.. ending?

“So you’re saying,” You murmur, placing down this special salve in order to truly regard him.

“There’s a way to end the Endless Winter?”

His brows crease critically, seemingly sarcastic.

“There’s an end to everything sweetheart. Life, death. Start, finish. War,” He meets your eyes with a conniving grin, a face you hadn’t seen on the man before.

“Peace.”

Automatically, you roll your eyes.

Peace? Peace when there was no peace left to be made, no kingdom remaining to make peace with?

“And how do you think the nonexistent Mage will make peace with Beasts?”

Seungmin grins.

“Well there is a Mage left,” He scornfully states, flicking your forehead whilst you palm the sting, frown evident.

“And as far as making peace goes, marriage.”

Marriage.

What.

“Wait- so you’re telling me big bad King Bahng could’ve just hooked up with a Mage and called it a day and everything would be fine?”

Seungmin clears his throat.

“One, Bahng doesn’t ‘hook up’. Two, it’s not as easy as that.”

Of course it’s not as easy as that. Why would it be?

You wish to claw your eyes out of your head, anticipating his explanation.

“Because if you weren’t aware before, marriage ties between Mage and Beast are very difficult to establish. Bahng is picky on everything, and even pickier when it comes to mates.”

But before you can argue there were thousands of suitors roaming the L/N Kingdom for him to pick from, Seungmin interrupts.

“Plus, if anyone else were King I’m sure we would’ve had peace decades ago. You’re lucky you’re in the castle right now, otherwise you would be eaten alive.”

Your face scrunching worriedly, he rakes an exasperated hand through his hair, plopping down on the vanity’s chair.

“Your scent.”

Again, you’re reminded of Han’s ‘you smell’ comment. Why is it showing up a second time?

He groans frustratedly, wordlessly praying you understand.

You don’t.

“Mage have specific scents. You can’t smell it since you’re not Beast. But let me tell you, you smell fucking delightful.”

Oh.

That’s what he meant by eaten alive, and the entire ‘you smell’ conundrum.

Seungmin, rather entertained with the shock written on your face, shrugs his shoulders, nonplussed by the crassness of his earlier statement.

“Now you get the use of the salve, right? And why you’re not allowed to leave the castle?”

Your mouth feels dry of response, beckoned toward the exit without so much as a peep passing through your lips.

However, right as the you’re halfway gone, he stops you, brows cocked.

“Do us all a favor and marry him, will you?”

And like that, the apothecary’s door thumps closed behind you.

If only the “him” he was referring to wasn’t King Bahng, you might’ve agreed.

Marriage in the L/N Kingdom had been a sacred event.

An event you’d been prepared for since childhood, fed daydreams of a day you would be married to a prince-like man with perfect features and a perfect personality, every element fabricated from a young age.

Truly, you loved it. Loved visualizing a life shared with your loved one, whoever that man would be.

Little did you know he might just be King of the Beast Clan.

No. You refused. Marrying a murderer, the murderer of your family, was the last thing you would oblige to.

He sent the command, he led the attack, and you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of marriage.

Although, one problem. Similar to life back at the L/N Kingdom, supplies only lasted for some time before shipments became low, and pretty soon (according to Seungmin) the salve you were given would run dry.

Meaning, your meager chance of protection lay completely exposed, susceptible to any Beast daring enough to try something.

Two sides of a coin remained. Heads, you marry the murderer of a King and spring returns, or tails, you abstain and are eventually left vulnerable.

You’ve always been the person to confront a difficulty head-on, but, in this case, a different, defensive approach crossed your mind.

Run away.

Despite Seungmin’s sensible reminder to not leave the castle, what other option sounded suitable?

Die physically or mentally, pick your poison.

Or maybe, never drink the poison in the first place. Evade.

Three days have passed since you received the salve, and after applying it behind your ears and between your elbows at dawn, you were free to do as you pleased—within the castle walls.

Yet, tomorrow’s dawn would be divergent. Tomorrow, you would be days away from the Beast Clan.

Sneakily roaming around, you managed to find certain outlets to your disposal. Nearby the chambers you’d been kept in was a moth eaten, hooded cloak seemingly unworn for quite awhile. Ideal for an anonymous escape.

Furthermore, amongst the colloquy during a dinner with Changbin and Felix in the Great Hall, you distinctly recall overhearing information about the stables.

If you were to flee, you needed a horse, and thanks to the guard, you knew right where to find one.

Unable to sleep the night before, your dry eyes blink through the dense darkness, sweeping the candlestick from your side table for a minimal source of vision.

Lathering a copious amount of salve all over your skin, you slip down the winding stairwell, grateful for the shadowed moonlight gazing down upon the Throne Room as you venture.

Bingo. There’s the cloak.

Sweeping the fabric over your shoulders, you slip the hood over your head, creeping down the steep steps leading into a surrounding ward.

On your left, across the butcher’s vendors.

Blindly searching, the whinny of a mare alerts your close distance, carefully winding through lead ropes and linked fences to the first horse in sight.

You have to be fast, the sun will rise at any moment it pleases, and it’s impertinent you’re gone by then.

Hoisting a mere saddle pad over the back, you deem the saddle too noisy, slipping the reins overheard and adjusting their length accordingly.

Jogging forwards, you’re brisk to gain a running leap atop the horse prior to the thunder of hooves charging forward.

Closer to the gatehouse you near, a luckily open drawbridge allowing easy passage across.

Faster, faster. You can’t afford to slow down. Daylight is beginning to peer above the horizon, warming your back with rays of sunlight amongst a snowy landscape.

And when the kingdom wakes up, it’ll be as if you were never there.

But, an undecided factor stayed. Where would you go? There was no kingdom left for you, no home to go to.

For now, you needed to prioritize finding a hiding spot, if only for a night, that supplies warmth.

Given the opportunity, too long out here and you or your horse will indefinitely succumb to the frigid conditions.

Veering off sharply, you sidle beneath a barren magnolia tree, its thick trunk barely blocking the unforgiving wind. Pretty soon you’ll have to keep on, but for now, you’ll savor the temporary peace.

Blue skies indicate it must be nearing morning, and you assume the castle will be slowly waking up. By now, King Bahng would likely be awake as well, you’ve been told he doesn’t sleep well anyway.

Scouts. He’ll send scouts most likely. Knights like Minho or Hyunjin.

Ugh, the mere thought of Hyunjin finding you a second time makes you nauseous.

Except, the longer you consider it, King Bahng is the worst case scenario.

I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.

Those words send an entourage of chills slithering up your spine, and not from the cold.

Because while Hyunjin is a type of spiteful strong you want to avoid primarily due to how annoying it is, King Bahng is a quiet strong, the kind that wouldn’t confess his anger, but have you witness it firsthand instead.

Enough thinking. You have to go.

Using the bumpy roots below you for leverage, you wind a leg around the horse’s back, aiming to reach the edge of the territory before midday.

That was the goal, until you’re pummeling to the ground.

The moment is instantaneous, your horse releasing a shriek as it’s swiped right off its feet, slipping onto hard, icy ground and simultaneously crushing you in its descent.

Almost like vomit you feel the screech of pain building in your throat, a numbness in your right leg along with the warmth of blood soaking your clothing doing little to sustain level breathing.

Then, in the midst of your hysterics, you look upon the visible side of your horse, a pair of claw marks scratched right across its stomach.

Scrambling out to the best of your abilities, you bite your tongue, praying this is one of Hyunjin’s sick, sadistic games and not an obvious ambush.

You refuse to die like this. You’ve survived once and you’ll be damned to give up now.

“I’m impressed. You’re not as weak as I thought.”

A sneering tone speaks from behind you. According to the claw marks, Beast, but not one you remember. And with your current state—being unable to rise to your feet—you’re utterly incapable of ascertaining an identity.

Instantly, your hand reaches up to trace the alcove beneath your ear and neck, any ounce of hope disappearing upon feeling for the salve.

Gone.

“Now, care to tell me what a Mage is doing in Beast territory?”

He’s hiding behind you on purpose, drawing you into a sensory overload, a panicked frenzy of adrenaline and fear.

Deer caught in headlights.

A curved claw unlike those in the Kingdom of Beasts winds your head back, staring straight into the face of something you can hardly deem Beast, more like wolf.

He has this terrifying look in his eyes, and breath that stenches of metal and flesh.

This man is the kind of Beast you’d grown up believing in. Violent, merciless.

Minho, Hyunjin, hell, anyone. Please.

As if second instinct, you assess everything around you, snatching the closest stick to you and jarring the sharp end through the bottom of his chin with all your might.

A gagged, sort of howling sound emits from above you, putrid-smelling blood spraying all over your face.

In split seconds does another form appear in your peripheral, your dread heightening before ultramarine stills the horror in its tracks.

King Bahng.

He’s quiet, expertly slicing the back of the neck, the attacker dropping to the ground motionlessly.

“I could’ve handled it myself.”

It’s a lie. He doesn’t respond.

If the first Beast hadn’t killed you, he certainly would. He said it himself, whenever he pleased, he could break you.

So when King Bahng’s arms extend toward your position on the ground, you prepare for the worst, crawling backwards as quickly as possible.

Surprisingly, he kneels down in front of you, and, as your vision clears, you notice the concern written on his face.

Weird, the feeling compiling in your gut as he looks at you like that. The way your eyes build with tears, lungs finally hacking for as much non-congested air available without a single word said.

Just by his expression alone, you’re a fit of blood and tears, the aftershock hardly helping ease the experience.

Crying, in the middle of a forest, with King Bahng as a witness.

“I know, I know,” Is all he whispers, and you barely recognize when he hoists you into his arms, the searing sting of your leg your only indication of movement.

Smoothly maneuvering you again his chest, he cradles your body close, one hand directing his horse as you ride back to what you assume to be the Kingdom.

Through the aching pain, you can’t even be upset about returning, merely focusing on the subtle warmth of his body and the strength willing you to say something.

“You speak nothing of this moment,” You murmur, the King’s body erupting into a tremor of laughter.

“I speak whatever I like whenever I like, sweetness. No one touches what’s mine, yeah?”

Mine. You hate the effect he has on you.

Yet, your snarky remarks are depleting in tandem with your energy; the soothing, shushing sound he’s making and the repetitive thump of hooves doing little to keep you from sleeps tempting beckon.

Eyes drifting closed, his tightened grip pulls you closer, your cheek smushed into the fabric of his coat whilst lost in slumber.

“Hold on a bit longer for me, we’ll be there in no time.”

Recovery, to your luck, is swift. Either that, or Kim Seungmin is secretly a Mage, because within a week spent off your leg, you’re back to normal.

A little sensitive to weight, but overall, healed.

Initially, despite the agony blazing through your body, you were thankful you barely recalled seeing anyone, swept into the apothecary immediately.

The last thing you wanted to see after returning would be the faces. Plus, what about your friends? Jeongin, Felix, Han? You’re sure they looked destroyed.

Except, it’s all fake. A feign kindness given to you only by sympathy. What do the faces matter anyway?

You gorge that question to the very back of your throat when said Cook walks through the apothecary’s door, utmost apprehension apparent. He grabs your face, brows knit—but not in an angry sort of way, more like staving-down-tears.

“Don’t you ever do something like that ever again.”

Past him, you can’t help but smile seeing Seungmin’s softened expression watching Felix, adoring his preciousness just as you are.

“I promise.”

Nodding curtly, he turns around, leaving you to view the many ingredients scattered across his apron.

He rushed here, cute.

“I’ll bring breakfast down here.”

Craning, you can barely make out his deep voice, lowered to a nearly inaudible decibel. Ears flushed pink, you’re filled with a worrisome amount of happiness seeing Felix’s embarrassment trying to maintain an upset facade.

“Hm? What was that?”

Ah, at this point you’re picking fun.

“I said I’ll bring breakfast down here.”

Precipitously slipping outside, both you and Seungmin are left to stifle your bubbling laughter, graced with the most appetizing platter you’ve had the pleasure of eating a few minutes later.

However merciful those first few days were, dissipated. And in a short amount of time, you could feel the eyes boring into your back, the questions resting on the tip of tongues.

All the same, nobody mentioned it. And if anything, that made the paranoia grow.

It was gradual. The subtle shadow you swore you saw in corners, the terror stopping your heart in your chest when you swear someone breathed down your neck.

Your body may be healed, but your mind certainly isn’t.

To a degree that two weeks later, you’ve found sleep nearly impossible, lingering in the kitchen in the wee hours of morning, teetering on your wits end.

Some occasions it’s Felix who you see first, wiping the sleep from his eyes, loading coal into the furnaces to heat the kitchen for the day. Other days it’s handmaids, shuffling around busily, carrying goods to and fro.

This time, Minho arrives first, for once wearing regular clothing opposed to his usual armor, steaming saucer in clutch.

Perhaps this is an opportunity, he is a knight after all.

“Hey Minho?”

Tired eyes sweep to your figure on the table, the rim of his cup held to his lips.

“I’m too paranoid and at this point I might die of sleep deprivation,” You huff, referring to his raging, bed-headed self . “…Could you teach me how to use a sword?”

He’s staring at you like you‘ve grown two heads, pulling a chair back to settle in, arms crossed over his chest.

No sentences need to be said aloud, merely spectating the gears turning in his head enough to set your nerves on edge.

Yet, in the midst of your waiting, you note a peculiar bruise peeking from his collarbone, another lingering a tad bit lower.

“And you think a sword is going to protect you?”

The question is genuine, lacking the bemused nature you were expecting.

Another thing you’ve noted throughout your sleepless nights was the continuous amount of times you’d watch the King’s Advisor sneak into his quarters, a realization keeping your response baited.

Seems his love life isn’t a concern.

“Hey, those marks on your neck and shoulder, are those from Ha—“

“When do you want to train.”

All lightheartedness vanishing, you have to chew your lip to avoid ticking him off further by giggling.

“Tomorrow?”

Pushing in his chair with an agreeable hum, you merely whisper a hurried “Thank you” he grunts at, rushing off to who knows where and giving you leeway to recover from the hilarity of it all.

Tomorrow, however, came far too early, not anticipating to be woken up at the crack of dawn, grumpy enough the prospect of blackmailing the King’s Advisor became dangerously tempting.

Yeah, good luck. He’s not budging until you’re on your feet.

Seems you underestimated Han Jisung’s stubbornness.

Rushed into a loose gown, you’re led to the Inner Ward, an open sector in the middle of the castle.

Upon being met with a too-smug Minho, you can practically see the word “payback” hovering above his head, busying himself with fetching supplies.

Perhaps this is karma coming back to bite you.

Ouch.

Except, you’re puzzled. You’re being taught how to deul, yet your teacher isn’t adorning armor nor gear of any kind.

At your confusion, the knight chokes a cocky guffaw.

“First, we learn how to properly move.” He hands you a wooden sword. “If I so much as leave a scratch on you I’m as good as dead.”

Again, he may appear snarky, but his tone is nothing short of serious. Minho is hard to read.

Wait.

Seeing past your panic, the Beast seems to answer your unspoken question.

“King Bahng is visiting the villages today, he won’t be back till the evening.”

A wave of relief grounds your bones, standing rather pathetically while Minho aids in critiquing your position, instinctively shifting into his own in front of you.

“Now, there are a lot of things to consider when dueling. I’ll narrow things down. Don’t overestimate or underestimate your opponent, trust your gut, be aware of everything, and lastly, do not be afraid to deceive.”

Promptly, he’s lashing out before you can even process his advice, wooden weapon drawn above his head as your grip tightens, attempting to block the strike only for his foot to press into your stomach, sending you falling right onto the ground instead.

“Isn’t that unfai—“

“Like I said, deception is your greatest weapon. In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.”

He reaches a hand out for you to take, helping you back up again only to both fall back into your stances.

“Keep in mind, your sword isn’t your only weapon.”

Minding his instruction, you continue onward, sparring heartily till the beating afternoon sun becomes too hot to bask in any longer. Amongst the four hours you had been consumed in training, you’ve snagged certain valuable points.

Calmness is crucial. Your mind streams clearer when you parried, void to the opponent’s increasing frustration—given an advantage of both agility and focus.

Two, unpredictability is a gift. Minho is especially good at being unpredictable.

Whether he charges headfirst or aims the forte of his sword toward particularly weak points, you begin to mimic his performance, growing closer and closer to conquering those signature tactics.

Of course, your enjoyment can only last for a bit before it spoils.

Spoiling as in, Hwang Hyunjin’s random appearance, sauntering into the area as if he’s King himself.

“Well look at this, didn’t think I’d see our runaway and Minho here.”

There’s an air between Minho and Hyunjin, one that forbids Hyunjin from egging his superior on, just like when you were first brought to the Kingdom. Lucky for you, you could be degraded as much as he approved of.

Feigning a dramatic gasp, he gestures to either wooden sword held in raw palms.

“No way, you’re learning how to deul?! Don’t tell me you’ve never learned basic attacks? Oh right, you never had to fight, huh, princess?”

You bite the skin of your cheek, minding your composure.

“You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.”

Now he’s asking for it.

“Say,” He sneers. “Let’s duel.”

Keeping Minho from intervening, you apologetically nod to his disproving expression. He knows it’s stupid, even while fetching his armor and adjusting the metal plating to your body, and you do too, but you can’t afford to back down, you won’t.

Testing your abilities carrying a legitimate sword this time, Minho grants Hyunjin a terse scowl, their own wordless agreement to tone down on anything too harmful.

Somehow, it grates your nerves further.

Straight away, he charges his right foot forward, the metal colliding with a loud ring, narrowing your body to shield your unprotected side.

Hyunjin, though skillful in his wrist mobility, clearly uses his size compared to you as an advantage, carelessly throwing around his jabs whilst relying on form alone.

You shuffle back and forth continuously, the commotion of metal rifle drawing the attention of Beasts alike throughout the castle, stopping their movements to survey.

Lurching himself forward once more, you will your legs to support you, balancing the crushing force of his pushing ascent with as much strength as possible.

“If you win, you get whatever sensible award you want,” He grits, using pure weight alone to gain higher vantage. “But if I win, you marry King Bahng.”

Suddenly, interrupting your stunned reaction to his proposal, Minho’s reminder breaches your eardrums.

Deception is your greatest weapon.

Honestly, you’re bewildered Hyunjin hadn’t played petty thus far, and you have no doubt he will any moment now.

You can’t afford to waste the opportunity.

Maintaining your gaze targeted on his face, you steal the chance, slipping your sword right beneath his feet, hooking the guard just fast enough to cause his legs to buckle.

The tip of your sword centimeters from his neck, you cock your brows, finding satisfaction in the glare he’s boring into your skin from his spot on the ground.

In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.

“If King Bahng wishes to marry me, he will deul me himself. That decision isn’t up to you.”

Stalling his immediate laughter upon nudging the sharp point right up against his pulse point, you chuckle.

“I might have to do this more often, you’re not bad when you shut your mouth for once.”

Dropping your sword, you reach out a customary hand he rejects, either of you following Minho to the side stalls to return his armory before a haunting voice stops you in your tracks.

“One more match?”

You’d been ignorant to the Kingdom’s sudden burst of energy, the trembling chains of the drawbridge dropping onto cobblestone ground, the gates shifting open.

Having appeared through thin air stands King Bahng, constantly arriving at the worst of timing.

He’s clad in traditional armor, though his has fancier plating, cleaner sheen, azure hues hidden within the gorget.

Your stomach ties itself into a knot, piecing together the details.

“If this is about the deal, I don’t think I-“

“Oh please princess, this was never up to you. We did this for the sake of the Kingdom, you think we ever considered your say in this?” Hyunjin interjects, quickly escorted away by a frowning Minho and an additional guard you don’t recognize.

Huh?

What… What is he talking about? For the Kingdom? What does he mean for the sake of the Kingdom?

Do us all a favor and marry him, will you? Seungmin’s words ricochet in your skull, the parts assembling perfectly into place.

But if I win, you marry King Bahng.

Marriage.

They knew all along. They knew you were set to marry him and yet, no one told you.

If your betrayal had been violently inflicted, you would look like a rag doll. All this time, these moments you thought were glee-filled, hopeful.

Lies.

Tearing the King’s chance to speak from his fingertips, you pick up your sword, denying your shaky, white knuckles and replacing those broken feelings with rage instead.

No, you can’t afford to show weakness. You must replace these feelings as quickly as possible.

No weakness, no mercy.

“Fine, let’s duel.”

“But-“

“Pick. Up. Your. Sword. And fight me.”

Releasing a sigh, he cautiously pulls his own sword from its sheath, waiting to be counted off unlike Hyunjin.

However skillful you’d been before had completely vanished. Though, you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt, this fight meant your future, meant the minuscule bit of freedom you’d gotten to experience here.

The last thing you wished was to realize you had been lied to, but even more so to realize you’ve been lied to in front of the entire Kingdom, curious faces peering from the castle’s allures.

Your swings sloppy, you credit the severity of the blows as you attack and defend, evidently dueling with fatal intent.

You’ve lost this battle, you know it. Your senses are too overwhelmed to assess spatial awareness, and every muscle in your arm cries out for relief.

Swept off of your feet in a repeated cycle to earlier, you accept, sitting below the tip of King Bahng’s sword, your defeat.

Almost automatically, the pieces of pride you’d attained after your victory against Hyunjin amounted to nothing.

You may beat everyone else, but you will never beat this man, now matter how hard you try. The odds will always soar in his favor, and you will suffer the results of it.

This is not a game you’ll win. Because from the beginning, you existed as a marionette, enjoying such naivety till the comprehension as to who controlled the play hit you.

This theatre was particularly unforgiving.

He won.

If your insomnia before was grueling, this was an entirely new extreme.

Averaging a meager two hours per night, you’re positive you’ve memorized the guest list by heart, staring blankly at the crinkled parchment, unblinking.

In a matter of days, the congratulatory ball will be held.

You’ll be attending said ball as the bride.

Weeks ago, the guest list had simply been a past time, a mandatory errand for the King’s Advisor, a ball you weren’t aware, and wouldn’t be aware, was meant for you.

Your chest feels.. sad? Empty?

Yes. Empty is the word. An emptiness gutting you from the inside, the ugly drawback of exhausted options and worthless optimism.

There’s a lot of things to ponder on as well, factors you have to analyze, ensure it wasn’t another stage for an audience you so foolishly performed.

No escape.

Tuesday, two days before the ball, Jeongin drops by your door, carrying a package under his arm and that effortlessly adorable smile gracing picture-perfect features.

“This is for you, from.. um..” The anxious boy stammers, placing the binded package on your room’s veneer.

“You can say his name, Jeongin, I’m not mad.”

He exhales audible relief, slender fingers wrapping around your hand before you can bid him farewell.

“He— The King, he’s a good person.”

You force a tight grimace, agreeing despite your contradicting expression.

Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore.

Slipping from bed once the young boy’s footsteps fade in the distance, you gingerly unwind crimson ribbon, allowing the leather exterior to unfold.

Inside lies a gown.

A gown that, investigating how breathtaking it is, should be considered nothing short of a ball gown the longer you stare.

Designed as a mantua, the white fabrics paired with lace neck frill and engageantes add an elegance you’ve never seen before. Light, subtle blue hides beneath ruffles of the skirt, further accented by equally blue lace strings fastening the back together and outlining the seam of your square-cut stays.

You can only marvel at the gift given by your future husband, wishing so terribly you could simply run into his arms and pretend everything was well.

If only it was under better terms, as if nothing had happened. If King Bahng was another man, it’d be possible.

And Wednesday night, the root of your problems bares his face, knocking at your door while you were under the impression it was Han instead.

Acting as if you didn’t care was much easier around everyone but him, especially when you were halfway into tying the laces of your dress, the dress he had purchased for you.

What awful circumstances.

“Don’t touch me,” You hiss, regarding the man across from you with a frown.

Lifting either hand in the air, he seemingly invites you to figure out the impossible strings yourself, cueing a very aggravated, very futile attempt at tightening the ties of your ball gown before (hesitantly) allowing the man to slip behind you.

Of course you had to choose now to try it on.

His touch irritably careful, he ensures the fabric is snug fitting but breathable, each woven thread in its coordinating pattern.

Where he learned this you have no idea, only aware of how horrific this close proximity is, your restlessness growing unbearable.

Running his tongue over his top teeth, he backs up slightly, taking you in with apparent speechlessness.

He clears his throat.

“I won’t apologize because I know it means nothing to you, but please, let me explain. I intended to tell you, I just-“

He sounds timid, like a child.

A sour, bitter fury froths like bile in your throat. You want to explode.

“No. No. I didn’t want this! I won’t!” You wind around, pointing an accusing finger to his chest. “You killed them all, my family, my loved ones, children. I hate you. I hate you!” Your voice breaks, a gravelly, disgusting drawl raking your throat raw. Salty, burning tears drip down your collarbones.

Grievance. An innumerable stage of sadness you hadn’t reached before now, overflowing.

As he tries calming you down, you only grow angrier, pushing from your path to the door, ripping the handle awry.

Instantly, his arms wrap around your middle, hauling you back as you kick and scream, fingernails digging into any available skin, dress puffing as your legs flail.

Catastrophic.

“No- No!”

You’re certain the entire kingdom can hear you, but that’s the last concern occupying your headspace, too focused on escaping, far off as you had done earlier, anywhere but here.

“Stop crying,” He commands, either hand on your wrist pinning your back to the bed, expression morphed pitifully. His calloused hand swipes the storming rivulets from your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n, please stop crying. It hurts.”

Your response shortens into a simple sob, aching.

“It hurts..?” You murmur, eyes shifting over his face. “…You hurt?”

Incessant crying causing your skin to burn, he only blinks at you.

A fit of anger forms just as fast as it disappeared in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re hurting? You’re the sick son of a bitch that killed my family and took everything I’ve ever loved away, you don’t deserve to hurt!”

Sucking in a necessary inhale, you angrily flail, wrinkling your nose at the careful tilt of his head, the distance of his face from yours, every scar, every pore close enough to see.

What happened to the King who threatened to break you? Why is he pitying you, looking at you with such kindness?

Longing to bring up how useless the deal was, how the benefits of the marriage aren’t your responsibility, you simply glare, emotions a whirlwind you can’t explain, can’t say aloud.

And all he does is stare. Staring like you’ve said nothing at all.

You want to cry out, want to curse him for all eternity, curse those blue eyes that seem to pave a pathway through your soul.

But you don’t. He beats you to it.

“..Do you know why my eyes are blue?”

What?

“Because I’m not fully Beast. My mother was a Mage. She turned against my father after I was born, left us, and vowed to do everything in her power to destroy Beasts.”

Your face contorts nonsensically, his tight hold on your wrists loosening the longer he speaks.

“And I assume,” He redirects your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact.

Rearing deja-vú reminds you of your first encounter.

“No one ever told you Mage’s started the war.”

You scoff.

“Or that the Mage planned to cut off all trade supply simply out of spite. And so, I did what I had to—“

“You did what you wanted to. You killed helpless people because of your own problems, my family had nothing to do with it!” Vocal cords throbbing the louder you scream, you try kicking your legs to no avail.

“Your family, Mage, had everything to do with it. My people would have died-“

“Mine already did. So now what?”

A minuscule pinch occupies his brows.

“You weren’t supposed to be alive.”

“But I am, so you might as well let me join them.”

He sighs, a stray, obsidian strand of hair hanging over his forehead.

“You know I can’t do that.”

You test the words on your tongue, wedging your hand out to grab his face, feeling the dip of his jaw as he sucks in a breath.

When you first met, he had told you he’d break you. This change of heart confuses you, grates more anger in your chest.

“And why is that?”

Opening his mouth, he momentarily closes it, then opens again, contemplating the statement with caution.

He’s right, in some way.

You’re not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be saddened. You were meant to be in the ground with them, be one of the many bodies littering the L/N Kingdom, granted an eternal sleep.

Yet, you aren’t.

You survived, and you despise this man with every fiber of your being for that.

But things cannot change. You can’t bring them back, and his situation is just as painful as yours.

You both lost people, or, would’ve lost people.

An explanation or an apology, as he said, isn’t necessary.

So you’ll get what you want, tangibly.

Forcefully grabbing his chin and jutting him closer to you on the bed, your voice drips with venom, noses mere breadth apart.

“Then end this winter and marry me, Your Highness.”

For a split second you swear his gaze drifts to your lips, but you shake the thought away, his sharp canines glinting off the mirrors reflection.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one to propose?”

“You killed my family, no need for formalities.”

“Care to remind me why you agreed to marry him? Weren’t you planning to kill him?” Felix piques, apron woven around his thin waist, skillfully measuring flour that’s dusted over his nose.

You needed to get your anger out, then devise a plan. Show King Bahng you weren’t going to succumb to his charms, tricks. Ever.

You hum from your spot on the counter, conversing just as you’d done back in your kingdom with Ms. Maewether.

Technically, he was your new Ms. Maewether.

“Oh no, I still plan on killing him, I just want something first.”

Except, you didn’t talk about murder in front of Ms. Maewether. That was new.

He raises an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

Snapping your fingers, you cheerily tap your heels against the cabinets below.

“I want to see spring again.”

Silence overcoming the kitchen, it takes Felix a full minute to understand your preposition before bursting into unadulterated laughter. Well, until he realizes. Then he pouts.

“Aw, I was really looking forward to seeing Chris rejected at the altar.” The smaller Beast whines, popping a piece of sugary sweet dough his mouth and handing another to you.

“Hey, now that’s just cruel,” You mumble, muffled by the delicacy you’re currently chewing on.

“According to you yesterday, not really.”

Ah. Right.

“We just… have a lot to talk about.”

The phrase sounds stupid, but it’s true. Logically, emotionally it’s true. There is a lot in need of discussing.

For now, you’re indifferent.

“I’ve always thought you two were similar.”

The cook’s outburst catches you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always wanted to protect what mattered to you most, and maybe, one day, you can understand why he did what he did.”

Leave it to Felix to be your reasonable opinion.

Nevertheless, an invisible barrier rests between you two. A lie. His lie. The Kingdom’s lie.

“Felix, I will never understand why he did it,” You humorlessly chuckle, hopping from your spot. “So tell me, why did you lie?”

All morning you debated the right time to confront him. Tonight was the night, the congratulatory ball, the wedding. Why wait?

Freezing with his back turned to you, he stops mid-slice, dropping the knife atop the cutting board and gradually facing you.

Oh Felix.

His nose flushed pink, lips quivering, you allow him to race forward and hug you, head tucked into your shoulder while you stand there, motionless.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It was decided from the start, but we were told not to tell you, not until King Bahng told you himself.”

You want to tell him it’s okay, make some jokes, act like things are normal. Though your arms stay glued to your side.

“I guess Hyunjin beat him to it, huh?”

His arms tighten around you and, with a sigh, you pat his back, gently nudging him off of you where you can hold that sweet face of his.

“But don’t worry about me, alright? I can handle this, and I forgive you, so let’s move on from this, Lix.” Tenderly rubbing the skin of his cheek, he meekly smiles, an action you can’t help but feel relieved seeing.

You’re strong. You have to be strong. For Felix, for Han, for Jeongin, for your friends throughout the Beast Clan, you’ll be strong. You’ll enjoy wearing the gown regardless of who bought it for you, cherish the wedding no matter the man you’re wedded to.

If you’re going to have to live like this forever, you might as well make the most of it.

On today’s occasion, you’re dressed by a hand maid sent to your quarters, polished and puffed to perfection by the time five o’clock arrives and the banquet officially begins.

And when you see yourself in the mirror, you’re not exactly sure who stares back at you.

She’s pretty, yes, but she isn’t Y/N. She’s a Queen, the Queen of the Beast Clan.

Your stomach wrenches.

By tomorrow, you’ll be married. Married to King Bahng. You will be a wife, the wife of a King just as the L/N Kingdom intended.

The thought continues to plague your mind, sucking more and more oxygen from your lungs that as you’re escorted to the ball room.

You can hardly inhale and exhale normally as Changbin, whom you appreciate enormously, walks you down the aisle, past an abundance of people you’ve never seen before. Beasts, business men, acquaintances alike.

Sensing your panic, your linked arms allow him to spare you a meager glance you anxiously return.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

All previous calmness long dissipated, when you finally redirect your attention from your feet and take in King Bahng waiting at the altar, your rampaging anxiousness increases tenfold.

As the audience claps and either of you turn with your backs facing the crowd, you scorn your lack of a poker face when the King rests a hand on your back.

“Breathe,” He utters, only a whisper you heard.

Wishing to thank him, you bite your tongue, considering the man you’re referring to in the first place prior to replying.

A sharp nod of your head is enough.

Stifling an exhale, you spin on your heel, both bowing to the public before facing each other and holding hands, an action that shouldn’t cause goosebumps to swarm your arms, but does anyway.

“You plan to smash my face in at our wedding?” He murmurs below the customary vows, acknowledging your fingernails digging into his hand.

“Keep giving me ideas and I migh-“

The retort vanishes when he presses his lips to yours, doubling back in shock before his palm on your back keeps you close.

Granting you breathing room if only for an instant, a slow grin tugs at the edge of his lips.

“Then before I die, let me have this first.”

And he dives right back in again, kiss surprisingly tender compared to what you’d expected. Something bruising, dominating.

Instead, the King was soft. Soft as he held your cheek in a hand, soft when pulling you in by the waist.

Separating if only for a fraction of a second, you reach to hold his face, every instinct beckoning you to push him away dissipating into nothing but the nullified drone of your head and the insistent racing of your heartbeat.

“Are you that nervous, pretty? Your heart is-“

You pull him to your lips once more, hating how easy it is to forget, how his lips numb your thoughts—though unable to get enough.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

The guests hollering in your peripheral the lone sound breaching your eardrums, you can’t help thinking.

He did this for his people just as you would’ve done. As for the Mage instigating the war, some secrets shall remain hidden, unable to be answered. You have to accept that among many things.

The King has done nothing but care for you, and as much as you resent him for it, you respect him, if only a tiny bit, as well.

He’s irritable, and not to mention annoyingly handsome. His sympathy-filled eyes might be the death of you, and those dimples of his are stupidly lovable.

But he’s your husband, and somehow, strangely enough, you don’t find yourself hating the thought as much anymore.

Not when he holds you, and especially not when he kisses you as if it’s your last.

After the many hours spent celebrating, you couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about returning to your quarters.

Joined by King Bahng, you find traversing as easy as ever with the help of the (half) Beast behind you, helping navigate past multitudes of people, oddly comforting touch on your back guiding you through the hallways.

Arriving at your room, he pauses, awkwardly shifting his weight on his heels, bewitching gaze flitting left and right, uncharacteristic to his usually smug attitude.

“…Was the kiss too much?”

King Bahng, asking if his kiss was too much?

You wanted to photograph this moment in your mind forever, debating on whether you should tease him about it, egg the normally stoic King on.

However, you tip his chin down, pressing a chaste, soft peck to his lips, amusedly observing him freeze before melting into your touch.

“Could be better.”

He huffs a sigh in response, and you’re left wondering if this is the same man who threatened to break you, the one who now looks like a pouty toddler.

Although, just as you slip by, he takes ahold of your wrist.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You crack a smile.

“Good night Chris.”

And, suppressing your chuckle, you close the door behind you.

Hastily undressing into nightwear and slipping into bed, you stare up at the ceiling, hours passing from the ticking of a clock in the corner, echoing around the room.

Then, abruptly, your door creaks open.

“My gods, what are you doing here?” You whisper into the darkness, the door creaking behind his crouched form, King Bahng’s crouched form.

“I needed to see you.”

Ah. Don’t say things like that.

Pulling the covers further over yourself, you squint accusingly at the man as he enters, silencing your urge to reprimand he saw you mere hours earlier, presumptuously sitting opposite to you.

He scans what’s visible, fixating on your hand for a moment.

“You kept the ring on?”

Noting the gleaming jewel on your ring finger, you can’t help but feel slightly bashful. It’s not like you’re really married, but the thought sends a sort of satisfaction spreading throughout your chest.

“If I take it off, will it become winter again?”

He grins, giggling childishly.

“Is that the only reason?”

Debating on your response, you wet your lips, looking back up at his barely distinguishable face shrouded in darkness.

You have no doubt he’s thriving off your hesitance.

Oh how badly you wish to wipe that look clean, but in reality, keeping the ring on feels as if a part of you from your own kingdom is with you, similar to your old clothing.

The part of you that, if not invaded, would belong to someone loved, newly wedded.

“No,” You mutter, though the phrase is barely audible.

He perks up.

“Hm?”

You regret saying that. But he’s already heard, there’s no use lying aimlessly.

“I said no, that’s not the only reason.”

“Care to tell me the other reason?”

Rapidly averting your attention to your hand, you discover speaking is easier when not looking at him.

“Keeping it on makes me feel like I’m really in love. I like imagining that, being married.”

You miss the sad lilt crossing his face.

“We are married.”

Without missing a beat, you meet his stare.

“Are we?”

Unlike before, there’s no waver to your voice, no caution.

Winding around to your side of the bed, he settles beside your feet.

You clear your throat.

“I wanted to see spring again, and to you, I’m simply a present. A playtoy to your disposal. This isn’t marriage, not how I was taught, this is just a business arrangement.”

Nevertheless, the hurt leaks into your voice. So long to a resilient tone.

“Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

Come to think of it, it’s the first time he’s ever called you by your name apart from last night.

Having had enough of his nonsense, you spring for his collar, dragging him below you on the bed. Opposite to earlier, you’re on top this time, you’re in control.

“You don’t deny it.”

A silence passes.

“I would deny it a thousand times, but you wouldn’t believe me. And I don’t blame you for that.”

He sucks in a breath.

“I only ask you don’t doubt this marriage. This isn’t a business arrangement, and I will treat you with as much respect and love as possible, even if you don’t want me too. That is what marriage is, how I was taught.”

It’s your turn to inhale, lost within the confines of this dark space.

“Chris, do you love me?”

You both have people you love, people you want to protect, wanted to protect. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you, not when he found you after you ran away, not when ordering a salve to keep you safe, nor now, as you lean above him.

Like he told you. You weren’t meant to survive. You were supposed to be peacefully asleep, forever.

This man, this Mage, this Beast, is as much a murderer as your savior. You choose how to condemn him.

“I do, more than you could ever imagine.”

How can you stay mad at a guilty man, a man who kept you alive when you were on the brink of death? Who now professes to loving you, wanting to give you a marriage you’d been cheated of, give you everything you’ve been cheated of with everything in his power.

Hovering right by his lips to the point your chests touch, you place a miniature kiss there.

“I hate you, so much.”

Then another kiss.

His arms, wrapped around your more elevated form, drag you down in an embrace. One hand presses your face to his shoulder, another rubbing circles on your back.

“And I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, sorry.”

Raising up, you can’t contain the tremor of your lip, the way your eyes shakily close shut as you steal a third kiss from his lips, a kiss he returns, hands carefully holding each side of your face.

“Chris?” You manage, currently straddling his lap, his body resting against the headboard.

Kindly, he keeps a palm against your lower back, helping you balance.

“Can you show me what it means to be loved?”

You never understood how a person could melt until this moment. He wears that look again, like in the forest. The look that makes you cry.

What love looks like for Christopher Bahng, you don’t know. You have no doubt there will be ugly moments, moments you’ll reconsider, rethink.

You’re both hurt, some wounds still hurting. But for him, for you, you’re willing to take that chance.

“I’d be honored.”

FIC TAGLIST. @stayceebs97 @duhgirl @yourgirljanvi @readr1221 @spearbinnie0327 @hyunjinsartpeice @cheesytangerine @palindrome969 @luminouskalopsia @kiaralynn3838 @chrizztopher97 @starlost-andfound @weeping-angel-in-the-tard1s @zaggprincess2

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