drugdealer bf! yuma who coerces you into trying a new drug
trigger warning : dead dove, noncon, dubcon, coercion, drugs, drugged sex, first time anal, pain, gaslighting/manipulative. implied somno. you have been warned!! also slight angst.
the both of you are in your dim bedroom, only lit by led lights, sitting on the bed. his spotify playlist playing softly in the background. the smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke lingers in the air, cloying yet intoxicating.
"c'mon babe... trust me, it's mild stuff," he eggs you on. your eyes narrow, and you give him a judging look.
he holds up the small ziploc baggie. there's some japanese words written on it, but you can't read japanese. it's filled with tiny, pink pills. so innocent looking and sweet, like strawberry candy you'd eat when you were a child.
"it's new stuff, straight from japan. can't get it here, you know," he boasts, smirking at you. you catch an evil glint in his eyes.
"but you know i've been trying to stay clean..." you reason with him. he rolls his eyes, blowing vape smoke right in your face. he shakes the baggie infront of your face, taunting you.
"booooring. heard it's popular with girls. you sure you don't wanna try it?" he eggs you on again. that piqued your interest.
"popular with girls? why?" you ask, tilting your head curiously. he shrugs his shoulders.
"dunno. maybe because it's pink or something, i guess". you hum in thought. hmm.... work has indeed been tough recently... a little bit won't hurt, right? you roll your eyes, huffing. he watches you reconsider your decision.
"hey, not forcing you. like i said, it's a popular drug with girls. if you don't want it, i can find a buyer for it," he smirks mischievously. he knows mentioning other girls will piss you off, purposefully riling you up. you felt your heart drop to your stomach. you glare at him, feeling challenged.
"f-fine! give me one!" you put your palm out towards him, defiantly. caught you. he smirks as you fell right into his trap, opening the ziploc and placing two in your palm.
"that's more like it. you're supposed to take two. i know you've been stressed by work," he says thoughtfully. you give him a questioning look.
"are you gonna take it?" you frown at him. he shrugs.
"already did when you were taking a shower," a blatant lie. you don't know that, though. you didn't question it, trusting him, like you always do. you think about your job, how much work has been piling up recently. you think about the deadlines, the stress, and how your bones feel heavy. you're warm and safe here with yuma..... right? you always trust him. you place the pink pills in your mouth as he watches you with narrow, impatient eyes.
"good girl," he whispers to you. you let the pill sit on your tongue for a few seconds. your saliva slightly dissolves the top layer, tasting the sweet, artificial candy flavour for a second, and then that synthetic, chemical taste that you're familiar with. it takes over your tastebuds. you quickly swallow it down. bleh. you always hated that bitter after taste.
he leans in to kiss your lips, his saliva mixing in with the bitter, chemical aftertaste. he tastes nice, as always. his hands already in your hair. he strokes your hair lovingly, already pulling you closer to him on the bed. the drugs haven't hit yet.
"not bad, right? told you they were mild," he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. you nod, observing how the led lights paint his face blue one second, then purple. then, all of a sudden, it hits you like a truck. you can feel the drugs taking effect, starting from your gut, spreading like pins and needles to your arms, your legs, your throat.
"feels weird, yuma.. hate it..." you try to retaliate, but your words come out weak and slurred. he just laughs, manhandling you around on the bed, pushing you underneath him and putting all of his weight on you. you can feel it, the all too familiar feeling of a bad trip. you try to hit at him.
"you liar-..!" you try to scold him, looking at how unaffected and sober he is. the words came out less threatening than you'd wanted, sounding more like a light complaint. you realize that he probably didn't take it like he said he did. he laughs mockingly.
he roughly pulls off your soft cotton sleep shorts and your underwear, whistling when he sees how aroused you already are thanks to the drug's aphrodisiac effect. "someone's excited, huh?" his teasing voice mocks you, that infuriating smirk adorning his face like as if it's permanently stuck on his face.
"you know, there's something i wanna do, but you always say, no, yuma, i'm not ready~," he mocks your words in a fake high pitched, girly voice. your head spins and your skin burns. what is he talking about?
"it's popular with girls? well... i might have lied," he gathers the slick and wetness seeping out of you. god, you were so wet. you didn't know why though, you weren't expecting this. it was like as though your body was making decisions on it's own. you try to swat his hand away, annoyed, but you find yourself unable to move.
"the buyers are guys, but the users are girls.. pretty girls like you," he pushes a slick finger into your hole. a sharp pain shot up your spine. oh. oh. so this is what this is all about. ever since the start of your relationship, he's been asking you to do anal, but every time, you push him away. you rejected him many times, sometimes shyly, playfully pushing him away, your hands lightly pushing his chest away. bashful, embarrassed, pink cheeks. sometimes rolling your eyes, annoyed for being asked so many times. he'll pout and give you a dejected look, trying to convince you. you feel guilty, but you're afraid, you've never done it before. you've tried on your own with your fingers, but could never get past the painful first stretch.
his fingers don't stop moving, roughly seeking out the spot deep inside of you that he knows you're gonna love. "makes them all weak and soft, and so fuckin' desperate..." against their will, he leaves that point out conveniently. he punctuates each word with a flick of his wrist, painfully stabbing and stretching the walls inside of you with this bony fingers. he almost sounds annoyed, angry even. you'd be afraid if it weren't for the fact that you're so out of your mind. tears started to flow at the painful stretch, more painful than you had ever felt before.
"i had to do this, you wouldn't let me otherwise.." he pulls out his fingers, impatiently pulling down his pants and boxers. panicking, you tried to kick him away. but you couldn't lift a single muscle. you couldn't control yourself, it no longer felt like you were in your own body. you lay limply on his bed, like a doll.
he slicks himself up with the arousal dripping out of you and buries himself fully, ripping you apart. he groans at the way your virgin hole is clenching so desperately around him. it feels like your first time all over again. finally. he thinks.
"so fuckin' tight...." he thrusts in deeply, tightly gripping your hips to the point of leaving bruises. you tried to scream, but the sound comes out weak, more like a desperate whimper, burning your throat. you feel like you're being torn apart at the seams. you look up at him. your eyes are glassy and your mind is unable to think, slipping in and out of consciousness. your eyes focus on his bleached blonde hair... the piercings on his ear glinting in the dim light... the mole underneath his left eye... the way the led light is changing in the background... the room feels like it's spinning.
"hey, wake up. don't pass out on me," you feel his rough hand tapping your cheek painfully. your head lolls weakly, saliva dripping onto the pillow below you. he laughs, speeding up his thrusts, fucking in and out rapidly and brutally. your heart is palpating painfully and you're on the brink of passing out. the pain had spread out throughout your whole body to the point of turning you numb all over. your body feels like tv static. eventually, you closed your eyes, the drugs taking over your mind and body fully.
"baby, i'm coming.." yuma couldn't hold on longer. you felt too good, much better than usual. tighter, wetter, warmer than usual. he was too absorbed in his pleasure, that he didn't notice you had passed out, much less notice the fact that you didn't finish. he finishes inside of your ass, letting out a groan of relief. phew. after coming down from the high of his orgasm, he notices that you're passed out. he puts a finger on your neck to check your pulse. you're fine, you're still alive. luckily. he pulls out, mesmerised by his thick cum trickling down. an evil thought pops in his head.
a few more rounds wouldn't hurt, right?
-
you wake up the next morning with a splitting headache. the lower half of your body felt like it was on fire, aching and painful. you looked down. at least he had the decency to clean you up and put on your clothes. your head turns to the night stand and you see the tiny ziploc bag of the pink pills. it looks harmless, innocent and sweet. レイプドラック. those japanese words you didn't know before, but you can probably guess what it means now. mocking you. you suddenly have the urge to throw up, snatching the ziploc bag and tossing it across the room, not caring where it lands. you don't want to even look at it.
you dragged yourself out of the bed, feeling a pain spread throughout your lower half. you wince, holding onto the wall for support, slowly walking out of the bedroom. you don't even want to look at yourself as you walk past the full length mirror by the door.
he's in the kitchen, holding a kettle and brewing coffee grounds. he's wearing that soft, slightly oversized gray tee shirt that you bought for him last year. the bigger fit makes him look cute, younger, like the teenager you remember when you had first met him, instead of the man you remember from last night, the man who had....
"coffee?" his voice interrupts your thoughts. you don't say anything, just nodding numbly, like a puppet. you slowly walk to the table with trembling, shaking feet and a throbbing pain in your abdomen. you wince as you feel his cum leak out of you with every shaky step you take towards him. he smiles, handing you the warm mug. your soft hands brush against his.
he doesn't say anything, doesn't bring up last night. he doesn't offer an apology. he smiles like everything is normal.
"i love you," he says.
i love you too. you don't say it back. you nod, taking a slow sip of your coffee with trembling hands. tastes sweet, just the way you like it. just like the pink pills from last night.
last night wasn't too bad. you tell yourself. he's not a monster. he's just... he's still, yuma. yuma who kisses you goodbye every morning, wishes you a good day at work, picks you up without fail, waiting in the parking lot without a complaint. yuma who knows your exact coffee order and the way you like your ramen. who curls up next to you every night like a cat, warm and soft and refusing to let you go. you look at his face, the way the sunlight filtering through the window shines on his handsome face, his blonde hair that you helped to bleach, the way the corner of his eyes crinkled in happiness as he looks at you. your heart clenched painfully in your chest, teetering between that line of love and betrayal. every single happy memory you had with him flashes in your head, dulling out the burning pain in your body from last night. he loves you. you tell yourself.
so you tell yourself that you'll trust him this time. and the next, and the next.
thank you for all the follows, as well likes and messages from my previous fic ^_^ i was a little bit nervous since it was my first time posting a fic on tumblr. i was watching euphoria recently and had the inspiration to write drug dealer boyfr...
i am working on a few more fics.. stepbro!fuma.. also a few ideas i wanna write colleague/neighbour/host club/gun play but idk who yet :3 also i'm pretty bad at titles so i'll leave my works untitled for now ...
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run -i "high"
> displaying file metadata...
tags; smut, car sex, drugdealer!nico, afab!reader, sensory overload/mindfuck, friends to lovers, "good girl"/"slut" dynamic, heightened senses, power imbalance, praise/degradation, overstimulation, slight breath kink, mention of drugdealer!yuma
warnings; heavy use of marijuana through smoking, laced substances, dubcon, creampie/unprotected sex (tsk), degradation and name calling, exhibitionism(filming without consent)
word count; ~3.1k words
note; ts been in the drafts for SO long ong pretty much a year by this point. i tried, i really tried to make it nico only, but knowing me, I HAD to mention yuma. sorry, not sorry.
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "high"
> file loaded, enjoy!
“you actually came.” nicholas reaches over and opens the passenger side door. as soon as you swing it open, you catch the scent of burnt weed wafting into your nose.
“yeah, I'd rather be anywhere than in that wretched place any longer.”
you plop down onto the old, musky seat that released a small cloud of dust whenever someone sat in it.
“that wretched place is your graduation,” nicholas scoffs, “thought you’d be more excited. plus, why haven’t you changed into that whole,” he waves his hand around, “black, dress thing.’
“gown.” you snatch the blunt resting precariously in his fingers and bring it to your lips. “dumbass, my graduation’s tomorrow. they just made all of us come in today to rehearse.”
you lean you head back and shut your eyes for a moment as you felt the fumes against the back of your throat. you curse your own impatience when you suddenly feel your nose sting, your eyes getting watery at every strained cough— courtesy of the particularly large hit you just took.
“slow down there, pretty.” nicholas snatches the blunt back and holds it away from you. “can't have you spewing all over my car.”
you roll your eyes away from him and stare out at the sun setting in the distance. “maybe i should get high before coming back tomorrow. at least then it'd be a bit more fun.”
“I'd pay to see that,” nicholas chuckles and takes a another hit, noticing the small smudge of pink from your lip balm on the tip. “five bucks on you tripping over the stairs to the stage.”
you scoff. “as if they'd even let you through the doors.”
“I'd just sneak in as your brother or something,” his eyes meet yours as you turn back to look at him. “can't be that hard.”
“please, no one would ever believe that.” you grab his wrist and wrestle the blunt from his fingers. once he finally lets go, you take another, smaller hit. “plus, you'd stick out like a sore thumb with your hot cheeto ass hair.”
nicholas stares at you through the cloud of smoke slowly building between you. his eyes struggling to focus as his senses began blur into one another.
“earth to nico?” you wave your hand in his face. “how many hits did you take already? you look completely gone.”
“not many,” he shakes his head and blinks, readjusting his gaze on you. “just a few while i was waiting for you.”
nicholas didn’t keep the air conditioning on while he was idly waiting for you, instead opting to roll down the windows a bit. while that saved him a couple bucks for when he gets gas later, it also made the inside of his car impossibly hot and stuffy.
“mind bumping the ac a little?” you ask, hopeful that he’d notice the drops of sweat accumulating on your hairline.
to say that he noticed was an understatement. in fact, that was what had caught his full and undivided attention just a moment ago.
“are you gonna pay for gas?” he brings the blunt to his lips for yet another hit.
“no.” your hand instinctively reaches out for the blunt once he was done, only to be met with nothing but smoke when nicholas pulls it even further away from you.
“then I'm keeping the ac off.”
he stares at how flush your skin has gotten and pays even closer attention to how heavy your breaths are. you’re still trying to reach over and get a hold on the blunt. you prop yourself up on the handbrake while your other hand stretches out across nico’s torso, the smoke from his fresh exhale tickling your skin.
“hand it over, dude. you need to stop anyway, aren’t you driving back home?”
his hand is pretty much out the window and in the open at this point, whereas his eyes remain on you.
“I'll be completely fine, thank you.” his free hand lands on your waist, “looks like you’re struggling quite a bit, though.”
the shirt you’re wearing isn’t even that thin, yet his touch startles you and you’re suddenly met with his face mere centimeters away.
“give me the blunt.”
his gaze travels from his hand on you all the way up to your eyes. he doesn’t even know why he’s so worked up, but all he knows for sure right now is that he desperately needs you to stay right where you are.
“go on, take it from me.”
he stares straight daggers into you. your skin starts to tingle. it’s finally hitting, but you swear it couldn’t come at a worse time.
“what are you playing at, nico?” you feel his warm breaths against your skin. “give me the fucking blunt.”
his tongue swipes across his lower lip. “no.”
you’re done with his shit. “whatever,” you roll your eyes and right as you’re about to sit back down, his grip on your waist tightens.
“don’t move.” his voice is almost a whisper, you wouldn’t be able to hear it if you weren’t mere inches from him.
he pulls his hand back inside and raises the blunt to his lips. his lidded eyes are trained on you while he takes a slow, long hit. you think he's finally going to hand it over so you reach out. that's when his other hand that was on your waist shoots up to you jaw and pulls you close. the sudden action throws you off balance but nico steadies you when he pulls your lips onto his.
"breathe," he mutters under his breath before blowing the smoke from his hit into your mouth. it stings less than usual when it travels through you. he doesn't let you breathe it out immediately. rather, his lips keep sucking on yours, his teeth brushing over your lower lip, his tongue poking and prying your lips open.
"what are you doing?" it's hard to focus when your body feels engulfed in heat. from the weed or emanating from his body, you're not sure. your fingers don't feel like your own when they go from holding you up to twisting in his shirt. your body feels weightless as you climb over the center console onto nico's lap.
you finally get a chance to breathe out when nico pulls away, his lips swollen and red. you can't feel anything else inside your mouth other than the strange tingling sensation behind your teeth. you crave nico's mouth against yours again to dull it.
he takes one final hit of his blunt before putting it out. his eyes rake down your body, his vision all blurry except for the sight of you.
"hey, I still wanted to hit that." you stare down at him with your brows furrowed.
"don't worry, pretty." he chuckles before pulling you close again, "you can have more later."
his lips are back on yours. his grip around your waist tightens. his warm palm on your jaw is all you can feel while your brain hones in on his lips. how they're slightly chapped and bitten, how his breath fans over your skin whenever he pulls back to take a quick breath. how his tongue swipes over his lips before going back and indulging in the warmth of your lips. you can't even tell if your eyes are open or not because all you see is bursts of white and nico's sharp eyes staring at you from under his eyelids.
you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. anything to get you through this trip, you thought. his hair feels soft. you tug his head back a little, far enough to catch a glimpse of his smirk.
"what the fuck was in that blunt?" your grip still tight in his hair. "doesn't feel like your usual shit."
his hand nudges at the skin under your shirt. "finally caught on?" his touch sends fiery chills up your spine. your body feels like it's floating and grounded at the same time. nico's hardness under you sits too well against your heat.
"friend hooked me up with a new strain," he glances down to your thighs draped over his lap. "said it's laced with something else. guess that something else is really doing it for you, huh?"
"shut up." you dive down into his lips again. this time driving forward with your tongue, reaching as far as you could. the strain in your thighs disappear as you grind onto him, swallowing his moans and the deep vibrations coming off his chest.
nico's hand travel up your spine, leaving a burning trail in its wake. he swiftly unhooks your bra and a wave of relief washes over you as your exposed nipples finally get the chance to brush against him. he flips the front of your shirt up and braw along with it and instantly latches his lips around your nipple.
you keep moving in messy circles on his ever hardening cock.
"fuck nico, I need you right now." your hips begin to stutter as you begin to lose awareness of your own body.
his hands move to grip your hips, helping you grind along with his sparse, and admittedly involuntary, thrusts up into you.
"when do you have to head back?" he releases your nipple with a wet pop.
you finally remember where you were, and where you're supposed to be right now. "in like fifteen minutes."
he licks a long stripe up your neck and end at your ear. the grooves on his tongue feel like sandpaper against your skin. "then get in the back." he pulls your shirt off you and throws your bra into the passenger seat. "now."
you hastily nod, and to the best of your ability, cross over the center console and into the backseat. nico gets the driver's side door, shutting it before climbing in with you in the back.
he sits back and works on unbuckling his belt, all while you crawl into the tight space between his legs and the back of the front seat.
"now put that those pretty lips to use." he looks down at you, his eyes barely able to focus on the way you purse your plump lips before placing small kitten licks up his angry shaft. your warm breath against his tip sending waves of heat all the way up his neck. he takes your hair in a harsh grip, "keep teasing me and you're not walking out of this parking lot later."
you press your fingers tips into his clenched thighs as you take his leaking tip into your mouth. his precum coating your tongue with a delicious saltiness. you can't feel the pain in your jaw as you take him deeper, the tingle on your scalp and the heat pooling between your legs taking priority.
"that's a good fucking girl." he stares at how your lips wrap around his cock, thrusting up slightly to meet your desperate bobs. your spit pools around the of his cock, dripping down your chin and neck.
"you're gonna take it all, yeah?" he holds your head still as he begins to thrust up harder and faster into the warm chasm of your mouth. "all my cum, you're gonna take it." tears start to blur your vision and the tingling in the back of your throat grows to one that burns worse with every harsh thrust. but you take it, your tongue, your lips, your throat, all welcoming the intrusion.
he throws his head back as you gag around his cock. "fuck," he mutters quiet and barely coherent curses as he unloads into your mouth and down your throat. your lips are still latched tight around him, letting his cum pour into your mouth. you feel full already.
once he settles down, he looks at you. his deep red hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and pupils so dilated you wonder if it's from the blunt or not. "up."
you don't need to be told twice as you climb up and hoist yourself onto the seat. he instantly turns and presses your body until your back touches the cool leather. he makes quick work of your sweats and throws them into the front seat.
he plays with the hem of your panties as he stares at the wet spot between your legs, his tongue wetting his lips. "someone's excited." he presses his knuckles up against the wet spot and chuckles. "need me that bad, huh?"
"stop talking and fuck me already, nico." your toes clench despite there being little to no friction. you feel the imprint of his rings against your clit through the wet fabric. "fucking asshole."
"guess getting high as fuck still doesn't quell that dirty little mouth of yours." he pulls off your panties and stuffs them in your mouth. "maybe this will help."
you're about to object but all that remains of your coherent thoughts immediately vanish when his lips wrap around you. using his fingers to spread you open, he sucks and nibbles at your clit, not letting up until you dig your nails into his scalp. not that he's done, though, he slides his tongue down your folds and prods at your leaking entrance, groaning at the scent of your heat.
"all ready for me," he mutters before pushes his tongue in. his fingers that were previously spreading you open move to pinch at your swollen bud.
you see bursts of white. you don't know whether they're real or not because you can't even tell if your eyes are open or not. you realize your mouth is agape but you're unsure how loud you're being. every time you breath out, your warm breath stings the back of your teeth.
to nicholas, the pretty gasps and pants dripping from you is like music to his ears. he presses his tongue up against your walls harder just to hear you sob louder.
various fluids pool on the leather underneath you. nicholas lets his spit and your precum drip down his chin. every time he switches between sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his chin drags deliciously through your folds.
"don't stop." you try to say but the bundle of fabric in your mouth muffles your words. you raise your hips up into his mouth, desperate for more.
much to your displeasure, he pulls away, the knot in your stomach loosening in a hot puddle inside you. seeing you frustrated, he finally takes your underwear from between your teeth. "fuck you, nico."
"of course, pretty." are the last words you hear before he stretches you open with his cock, burying it deep inside you. he has your legs in his hands and he sheathes himself fully in you. "since you need me to fuck you so bad," he leans his weight onto you and presses your knees into the seat, folding you in half, "you're gonna get all of me. hope you're ready, slut."
large is an understatement. you can't see where he's entering you right now, your head rolling back and your eyes unfocused, but you feel utterly powerless under the pressure of his cock splitting you open. every time he pushes back into you, you feel your body jump and jolt from the sensation alone. his fingers press into the back of your knees, and under his vice grip you get the feeling you won't be able to move even if you wanted to. so you take it. you take every deep thrust and and brutal intrusion, your pussy screaming in both pleasure and pain. maybe you're screaming too, but you don't care anymore.
every time you feel his weight slam back into you, you feel the sensation wash over you, smothering you in exquisitely suffocating pleasure. every inch of you burns. the slight tingle from earlier having amplified into a impeccably searing pain stretching across you.
you dig your nails into the leather as you feel your mind leave you. all thoughts gone as the feeling of nicholas' cock brushing up against your walls takes over and leaves you speechless, yet your mouth agape and letting out a continuous string of curses, pleas, and a combination that sounds too good in nicholas' ears. you cum screaming bloody murder, nicholas' name tasting heavenly coming from your lips. something snaps inside you. gone is your agency you prided yourself on. all you know now is how nicholas keeps burying his cock deep inside you.
"perfect little cunt swallowing me whole." seeing you unravel under him brings him to his limit quicker than he had expected, your sweaty, flushed, body under him prettier than he had ever imagined. all those nights spent thinking of your mouth or cunt around his cock as he desperately fucks into his hand pales in comparison to the real thing. every time your boobs bounce with his thrusts, or every time you feverishly moan his name aloud forces his timer to tick down faster, his composure thinning.
drops of sweat travel down his temples, gathering at his chin before dropping onto your stomach. everything else is a blur and you're the only thing that remains clear and crisp in his vision. his princess. his slut. everything he needs. your endlessly pretty form under him taking his cock so well, welcoming every thrust with each flutter of your tight, clenched walls.
"gonna fill you up," his hips stutter, "can't hold it anymore. you're too fucking tight, pretty." after pounding you one last time, he releases inside you. his warm load filling you up until you feel full, too full, like you can't handle taking all of him. that doesn't bother nicholas, though, he makes sure not a single drop leaves your quivering hole. scooping it all back up inside you with his cock, ignoring how each swipe, stroke, and nudge sends his body into overdrive as well.
that's when his phone rings. he plans to ignore it completely but one glance at the contact name has him thinking. he reaches over to grab his phone in the front seat and clicks on answer.
you're still trying to catch your breath and your ability to think when, out of nowhere you hear a voice.
"dude where are you?" a man's voice comes from the phone in nicholas' hand.
"umm, parking lot behind the college." nicholas answers breathlessly, yet a small smirk forms on his tired expression.
"wh- the college? why the fuck are you-," the man cuts himself off, "-why do you look like that?"
"well, yuma," nicholas starts again, using his other hand to drag his still-swollen tip through your cum soaked folds, "that shit you gave me worked real well." he flips the camera and points it down at your wrecked cunt. "here's a thank you."
"wh- oh fuck, nico." the man on the other end, presumably yuma, clears his throat before chuckling slowly. "you're fucking insane."
> end of file reached. see you again soon!
tag list: @1009high, @luneilyyyy
extended note; this ask has been in my box for so long, sorry it took me a year anon!
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run -i "high"
> displaying file metadata...
tags; smut, car sex, drugdealer!nico, afab!reader, sensory overload/mindfuck, friends to lovers, "good girl"/"slut" dynamic, heightened senses, power imbalance, praise/degradation, overstimulation, slight breath kink, mention of drugdealer!yuma
warnings; heavy use of marijuana through smoking, laced substances, dubcon, creampie/unprotected sex (tsk), degradation and name calling, exhibitionism(filming without consent)
word count; ~3.1k words
note; ts been in the drafts for SO long ong pretty much a year by this point. i tried, i really tried to make it nico only, but knowing me, I HAD to mention yuma. sorry, not sorry.
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "high"
> file loaded, enjoy!
“you actually came.” nicholas reaches over and opens the passenger side door. as soon as you swing it open, you catch the scent of burnt weed wafting into your nose.
“yeah, I'd rather be anywhere than in that wretched place any longer.”
you plop down onto the old, musky seat that released a small cloud of dust whenever someone sat in it.
“that wretched place is your graduation,” nicholas scoffs, “thought you’d be more excited. plus, why haven’t you changed into that whole,” he waves his hand around, “black, dress thing.’
“gown.” you snatch the blunt resting precariously in his fingers and bring it to your lips. “dumbass, my graduation’s tomorrow. they just made all of us come in today to rehearse.”
you lean you head back and shut your eyes for a moment as you felt the fumes against the back of your throat. you curse your own impatience when you suddenly feel your nose sting, your eyes getting watery at every strained cough— courtesy of the particularly large hit you just took.
“slow down there, pretty.” nicholas snatches the blunt back and holds it away from you. “can't have you spewing all over my car.”
you roll your eyes away from him and stare out at the sun setting in the distance. “maybe i should get high before coming back tomorrow. at least then it'd be a bit more fun.”
“I'd pay to see that,” nicholas chuckles and takes a another hit, noticing the small smudge of pink from your lip balm on the tip. “five bucks on you tripping over the stairs to the stage.”
you scoff. “as if they'd even let you through the doors.”
“I'd just sneak in as your brother or something,” his eyes meet yours as you turn back to look at him. “can't be that hard.”
“please, no one would ever believe that.” you grab his wrist and wrestle the blunt from his fingers. once he finally lets go, you take another, smaller hit. “plus, you'd stick out like a sore thumb with your hot cheeto ass hair.”
nicholas stares at you through the cloud of smoke slowly building between you. his eyes struggling to focus as his senses began blur into one another.
“earth to nico?” you wave your hand in his face. “how many hits did you take already? you look completely gone.”
“not many,” he shakes his head and blinks, readjusting his gaze on you. “just a few while i was waiting for you.”
nicholas didn’t keep the air conditioning on while he was idly waiting for you, instead opting to roll down the windows a bit. while that saved him a couple bucks for when he gets gas later, it also made the inside of his car impossibly hot and stuffy.
“mind bumping the ac a little?” you ask, hopeful that he’d notice the drops of sweat accumulating on your hairline.
to say that he noticed was an understatement. in fact, that was what had caught his full and undivided attention just a moment ago.
“are you gonna pay for gas?” he brings the blunt to his lips for yet another hit.
“no.” your hand instinctively reaches out for the blunt once he was done, only to be met with nothing but smoke when nicholas pulls it even further away from you.
“then I'm keeping the ac off.”
he stares at how flush your skin has gotten and pays even closer attention to how heavy your breaths are. you’re still trying to reach over and get a hold on the blunt. you prop yourself up on the handbrake while your other hand stretches out across nico’s torso, the smoke from his fresh exhale tickling your skin.
“hand it over, dude. you need to stop anyway, aren’t you driving back home?”
his hand is pretty much out the window and in the open at this point, whereas his eyes remain on you.
“I'll be completely fine, thank you.” his free hand lands on your waist, “looks like you’re struggling quite a bit, though.”
the shirt you’re wearing isn’t even that thin, yet his touch startles you and you’re suddenly met with his face mere centimeters away.
“give me the blunt.”
his gaze travels from his hand on you all the way up to your eyes. he doesn’t even know why he’s so worked up, but all he knows for sure right now is that he desperately needs you to stay right where you are.
“go on, take it from me.”
he stares straight daggers into you. your skin starts to tingle. it’s finally hitting, but you swear it couldn’t come at a worse time.
“what are you playing at, nico?” you feel his warm breaths against your skin. “give me the fucking blunt.”
his tongue swipes across his lower lip. “no.”
you’re done with his shit. “whatever,” you roll your eyes and right as you’re about to sit back down, his grip on your waist tightens.
“don’t move.” his voice is almost a whisper, you wouldn’t be able to hear it if you weren’t mere inches from him.
he pulls his hand back inside and raises the blunt to his lips. his lidded eyes are trained on you while he takes a slow, long hit. you think he's finally going to hand it over so you reach out. that's when his other hand that was on your waist shoots up to you jaw and pulls you close. the sudden action throws you off balance but nico steadies you when he pulls your lips onto his.
"breathe," he mutters under his breath before blowing the smoke from his hit into your mouth. it stings less than usual when it travels through you. he doesn't let you breathe it out immediately. rather, his lips keep sucking on yours, his teeth brushing over your lower lip, his tongue poking and prying your lips open.
"what are you doing?" it's hard to focus when your body feels engulfed in heat. from the weed or emanating from his body, you're not sure. your fingers don't feel like your own when they go from holding you up to twisting in his shirt. your body feels weightless as you climb over the center console onto nico's lap.
you finally get a chance to breathe out when nico pulls away, his lips swollen and red. you can't feel anything else inside your mouth other than the strange tingling sensation behind your teeth. you crave nico's mouth against yours again to dull it.
he takes one final hit of his blunt before putting it out. his eyes rake down your body, his vision all blurry except for the sight of you.
"hey, I still wanted to hit that." you stare down at him with your brows furrowed.
"don't worry, pretty." he chuckles before pulling you close again, "you can have more later."
his lips are back on yours. his grip around your waist tightens. his warm palm on your jaw is all you can feel while your brain hones in on his lips. how they're slightly chapped and bitten, how his breath fans over your skin whenever he pulls back to take a quick breath. how his tongue swipes over his lips before going back and indulging in the warmth of your lips. you can't even tell if your eyes are open or not because all you see is bursts of white and nico's sharp eyes staring at you from under his eyelids.
you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. anything to get you through this trip, you thought. his hair feels soft. you tug his head back a little, far enough to catch a glimpse of his smirk.
"what the fuck was in that blunt?" your grip still tight in his hair. "doesn't feel like your usual shit."
his hand nudges at the skin under your shirt. "finally caught on?" his touch sends fiery chills up your spine. your body feels like it's floating and grounded at the same time. nico's hardness under you sits too well against your heat.
"friend hooked me up with a new strain," he glances down to your thighs draped over his lap. "said it's laced with something else. guess that something else is really doing it for you, huh?"
"shut up." you dive down into his lips again. this time driving forward with your tongue, reaching as far as you could. the strain in your thighs disappear as you grind onto him, swallowing his moans and the deep vibrations coming off his chest.
nico's hand travel up your spine, leaving a burning trail in its wake. he swiftly unhooks your bra and a wave of relief washes over you as your exposed nipples finally get the chance to brush against him. he flips the front of your shirt up and braw along with it and instantly latches his lips around your nipple.
you keep moving in messy circles on his ever hardening cock.
"fuck nico, I need you right now." your hips begin to stutter as you begin to lose awareness of your own body.
his hands move to grip your hips, helping you grind along with his sparse, and admittedly involuntary, thrusts up into you.
"when do you have to head back?" he releases your nipple with a wet pop.
you finally remember where you were, and where you're supposed to be right now. "in like fifteen minutes."
he licks a long stripe up your neck and end at your ear. the grooves on his tongue feel like sandpaper against your skin. "then get in the back." he pulls your shirt off you and throws your bra into the passenger seat. "now."
you hastily nod, and to the best of your ability, cross over the center console and into the backseat. nico gets the driver's side door, shutting it before climbing in with you in the back.
he sits back and works on unbuckling his belt, all while you crawl into the tight space between his legs and the back of the front seat.
"now put that those pretty lips to use." he looks down at you, his eyes barely able to focus on the way you purse your plump lips before placing small kitten licks up his angry shaft. your warm breath against his tip sending waves of heat all the way up his neck. he takes your hair in a harsh grip, "keep teasing me and you're not walking out of this parking lot later."
you press your fingertips into his clenched thighs as you take his leaking tip into your mouth. his precum coating your tongue with a delicious saltiness. you can't feel the pain in your jaw as you take him deeper, the tingle on your scalp and the heat pooling between your legs taking priority.
"that's a good fucking girl." he stares at how your lips wrap around his cock, thrusting up slightly to meet your desperate bobs. your spit pools around the of his cock, dripping down your chin and neck.
"you're gonna take it all, yeah?" he holds your head still as he begins to thrust up harder and faster into the warm chasm of your mouth. "all my cum, you're gonna take it." tears start to blur your vision and the tingling in the back of your throat grows to one that burns worse with every harsh thrust. but you take it, your tongue, your lips, your throat, all welcoming the intrusion.
he throws his head back as you gag around his cock. "fuck," he mutters quiet and barely coherent curses as he unloads into your mouth and down your throat. your lips are still latched tight around him, letting his cum pour into your mouth. you feel full already.
once he settles down, he looks at you. his deep red hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and pupils so dilated you wonder if it's from the blunt or not. "up."
you don't need to be told twice as you climb up and hoist yourself onto the seat. he instantly turns and presses your body until your back touches the cool leather. he makes quick work of your sweats and throws them into the front seat.
he plays with the hem of your panties as he stares at the wet spot between your legs, his tongue wetting his lips. "someone's excited." he presses his knuckles up against the wet spot and chuckles. "need me that bad, huh?"
"stop talking and fuck me already, nico." your toes clench despite there being little to no friction. you feel the imprint of his rings against your clit through the wet fabric. "fucking asshole."
"guess getting high as fuck still doesn't quell that dirty little mouth of yours." he pulls off your panties and stuffs them in your mouth. "maybe this will help."
you're about to object but all that remains of your coherent thoughts immediately vanish when his lips wrap around you. using his fingers to spread you open, he sucks and nibbles at your clit, not letting up until you dig your nails into his scalp. not that he's done, though, he slides his tongue down your folds and prods at your leaking entrance, groaning at the scent of your heat.
"all ready for me," he mutters before pushes his tongue in. his fingers that were previously spreading you open move to pinch at your swollen bud.
you see bursts of white. you don't know whether they're real or not because you can't even tell if your eyes are open or not. you realize your mouth is agape but you're unsure how loud you're being. every time you breath out, your warm breath stings the back of your teeth.
to nicholas, the pretty gasps and pants dripping from you is like music to his ears. he presses his tongue up against your walls harder just to hear you sob louder.
various fluids pool on the leather underneath you. nicholas lets his spit and your precum drip down his chin. every time he switches between sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his chin drags deliciously through your folds.
"don't stop." you try to say but the bundle of fabric in your mouth muffles your words. you raise your hips up into his mouth, desperate for more.
much to your displeasure, he pulls away, the knot in your stomach loosening in a hot puddle inside you. seeing you frustrated, he finally takes your underwear from between your teeth. "fuck you, nico."
"of course, pretty." are the last words you hear before he stretches you open with his cock, burying it deep inside you. he has your legs in his hands and he sheathes himself fully in you. "since you need me to fuck you so bad," he leans his weight onto you and presses your knees into the seat, folding you in half, "you're gonna get all of me. hope you're ready, slut."
large is an understatement. you can't see where he's entering you right now, your head rolling back and your eyes unfocused, but you feel utterly powerless under the pressure of his cock splitting you open. every time he pushes back into you, you feel your body jump and jolt from the sensation alone. his fingers press into the back of your knees, and under his vice grip you get the feeling you won't be able to move even if you wanted to. so you take it. you take every deep thrust and and brutal intrusion, your pussy screaming in both pleasure and pain. maybe you're screaming too, but you don't care anymore.
every time you feel his weight slam back into you, you feel the sensation wash over you, smothering you in exquisitely suffocating pleasure. every inch of you burns. the slight tingle from earlier having amplified into a impeccably searing pain stretching across you.
you dig your nails into the leather as you feel your mind leave you. all thoughts gone as the feeling of nicholas' cock brushing up against your walls takes over and leaves you speechless, yet your mouth agape and letting out a continuous string of curses, pleas, and a combination that sounds too good in nicholas' ears. you cum screaming bloody murder, nicholas' name tasting heavenly coming from your lips. something snaps inside you. gone is your agency you prided yourself on. all you know now is how nicholas keeps burying his cock deep inside you.
"perfect little cunt swallowing me whole." seeing you unravel under him brings him to his limit quicker than he had expected, your sweaty, flushed, body under him prettier than he had ever imagined. all those nights spent thinking of your mouth or cunt around his cock as he desperately fucks into his hand pales in comparison to the real thing. every time your boobs bounce with his thrusts, or every time you feverishly moan his name aloud forces his timer to tick down faster, his composure thinning.
drops of sweat travel down his temples, gathering at his chin before dropping onto your stomach. everything else is a blur and you're the only thing that remains clear and crisp in his vision. his princess. his slut. everything he needs. your endlessly pretty form under him taking his cock so well, welcoming every thrust with each flutter of your tight, clenched walls.
"gonna fill you up," his hips stutter, "can't hold it anymore. you're too fucking tight, pretty." after pounding you one last time, he releases inside you. his warm load filling you up until you feel full, too full, like you can't handle taking all of him. that doesn't bother nicholas, though, he makes sure not a single drop leaves your quivering hole. scooping it all back up inside you with his cock, ignoring how each swipe, stroke, and nudge sends his body into overdrive as well.
that's when his phone rings. he plans to ignore it completely but one glance at the contact name has him thinking. he reaches over to grab his phone in the front seat and clicks on answer.
you're still trying to catch your breath and your ability to think when, out of nowhere you hear a voice.
"dude where are you?" a man's voice comes from the phone in nicholas' hand.
"umm, parking lot behind the college." nicholas answers breathlessly, yet a small smirk forms on his tired expression.
"wh- the college? why the fuck are you-," the man cuts himself off, "-why do you look like that?"
"well, yuma," nicholas starts again, using his other hand to drag his still-swollen tip through your cum soaked folds, "that shit you gave me worked real well." he flips the camera and points it down at your wrecked cunt. "here's a thank you."
"wh- oh fuck, nico." the man on the other end, presumably yuma, clears his throat before chuckling slowly. "you're fucking insane."
> end of file reached. see you again soon!
tag list: @1009high, @luneilyyyy
extended note; this ask has been in my box for so long, sorry it took me a year anon!
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run -i "loud"
> displaying file metadata...
tags; smut, public sex, established relationship, creepy guy at the club, praise, light degradation, alcohol, unprotected sex (no!), yuma is protective and claims you as his
warnings; creepy guy tries to get with you
word count; ~1k words
note; i genuinely don't even remember when I wrote this (it was definitely for the loml anie) but I was going through old drafts and found it so here it is! yuma definitely gets off on fucking in public. definitely not written the best, woops, i just felt like i needed to get something out :// it's been so long
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "loud"
> file loaded, enjoy!
you and yuma are at a club. he's in the corner with a drink in hand but all of his attention's honed in on you. you usually go clubbing with your friends but recently yuma has been tagging along just so he can keep you safe. it's not that he doesn't trust you, its more him wanting to be there in case other guys come up on you, plus watching you dance all night isn't a bad bonus.
the night is nearing its end but right before you can sit with your friends again you catch yuma staring at you. his eyes drift from you to a guy standing behind you. right as yuma starts making is way towards you the guy whispers in your ear. you jolt away but mutter a "no thanks" and hastily rush towards yuma. yuma takes you in his arms but holds his glare on the guy you left behind, making sure he saw the way yuma soothed and caressed the exposed skin on your lower back.
"go to your friends," yuma mutters in your ear.
"id rather stay with you," you say before you tug him towards the center of the club.
yuma's never been a very shy person, per se, but he's definitely not used to matching your energy in a place like this. so instead of dancing along with you, he does the only thing he's confident in doing.
one moment your dancing, the next moment yuma's soft lips are on yours. you can taste the light musk of alcohol on his tongue as he pulls you in tighter, kissing you like you've stolen his last breath. you two stay like that for a while, tasting each other and sharing lidded glances in between. your hands wrap around his neck and tug on his hair, yuma's hand reaching under the fabric of your top.
"let's go home."
before you can respond he's pulling you out of the club. you crane your neck to check for your friends but they all wave goodbye, knowing looks plastered on their faces.
your car is a couple blocks away but as yuma's taking you there, he grows impatient. he pulls you into a nearby alley and presses you up against the wall of a non-descript building. his hands travel over your body, never stopping but leaving your skin burning in its wake. his lips leave nothing untouched as he nibbles and sucks on your neck. all of a sudden,
"care to share?"
it's the guy from earlier. he must've followed you here because you swear the club was at least two blocks away by now.
yuma doesn't even turn his head, all his focus still on you. there's one thing yuma hates more then other men looking at you, and it's when those men dare to interrupt him while you're with him.
"no thanks, " he mutters.
your hands still in yuma's scalp, your body exploding with need for yuma's touch. yuma runs his nose up your jaw, breathing in your scent.
the guy steps closer, "c'mon, she looks like she needs it."
"him, not you." you pull yuma's body impossibly closer to you, yuma slips his hand under your dress, hiking up one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist.
"you heard her," yuma finally spoke aloud. "best if you leave."
he dives right back into your neck, unbothered by how the stranger lingers despite being told to leave.
yuma's hand reaches your soaked panties, "you're so wet already, love." he mutters into your ear. "might have to fuck you right here."
you groan and buck your hips into his hand, your body essentially screaming from how much it needed yuma right this instant.
"my pretty little baby," yuma bites down on your shoulder, "so naughty." he pulls your panties to the side and slide his fingers through your folds. "you love this don't you?"
"you fingering me? yes, duh." you bite back teasingly, tugging at his hair.
"no, my naughty little girl loves being watched, doesn't she?"
you halt your movements, red creeping up your neck. "huh no, I-"
he pushes one digit into you. "be as loud as you want, baby." he knew exactly how much you liked his fingers inside you and he wasted no time, pumping them in and out, not caring about the sound of his palm hitting your core. "let him hear how good i'm making you feel."
your knees begin to buckle but yuma holds you up, his other hand digging into the skin of your thigh.
"fuck, yuma, I'm-"
"come all over my fingers, do it."
and you do. your vision goes white and you lose control of your voice, yuma's name escaping your lips like a mantra. everyone can hear you.
there's no time for you to come down from your high because the next thing you know, yuma's poking and prodding his swollen tip and dragging it through your already soaked folds.
"nasty little slut, you're all mine" is the last thing you hear before yuma's dick stretches you open.
he moves like an animal. he doesn't want to admit it, but the way you were in such a public place is getting to him, too. he wants to make you as loud as possible, thrusts into you so hard and fast you could hear it three blocks away.
his hungry lips find yours and suddenly it's quiet. that's when you realize you've been screaming and moaning yuma's name the entire time. you clench around his dick. he groans in response, grinding his hips into yours.
"so fucking tight." he quickens his pace, biting down on your bottom lip. "gonna fill you up."
"please, yuma."
you're shaking. yuma's thrusts finally slow and he holds you against his body as he pumps you full.
"we should do this more often." he chuckles and leaves a wet kiss on your jaw.
> end of file reached. see you again soon!
tag list: @1009highway, @luneilyyyy
extended note; there's an entire second half to this that I completely cut out cuz it felt too disconnected. maybe ya'll will get submissive babygirl yuma one day...
no but genuinely, I love that he's getting to do what he wants with his body. go off my beautiful muscular, cool, cute, sexy, adorable, tattooed kitty cat I fking love you
no but genuinely, I love that he's getting to do what he wants with his body. go off my beautiful muscular, cool, cute, sexy, adorable, tattooed kitty cat I fking love you
𓆩♡𓆪 NOTE FROM ADMIN ARMANI ─┈ i’m so excited and excited to present this past seasons secret santa event fics, here’s to more events this year! a hug and thanks to all members who participated, they worked so hard on these so show them love and remember to reblog!
tags; sci-fi, dystopian, weird visceral, shit happens to you and taki, scavenger!taki, fated soulmates, ever so slightly angsty
warnings; fire, bullets
word count; ~3.5k words
note; ooo boy, I've been sitting on this for months now. gone through multiple revisions so I hope there aren't any mistakes (fingers crossed!) I just love dystopian settings, sci-fi dynamics, and class commentary so much. more notes at the end! :3
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "illusions"
> file loaded, enjoy!
The sound of the cash register grinding against itself echoed through the aisles while, outside, cars periodically sped past on the highway. Not one person had walked through the entrance since ten and the store lay still as the same tune played over and over again on the muffled speakers mounted up on the walls. There was a subtle buzzing from the icebox that had faded into the background along with the hum of air passing through the vents. You went back to nibbling on some expired bread as you sat behind the cash register, staring at the cracked edge of the counter. The place reeked of gasoline but what you didn’t expect was the food to somehow be infused with it as well. Yet, you forced yourself to stuff down the rest of the bread. This part of Scorses was pretty much deserted— the riots had driven almost everyone in these parts away and most of these gas stations would be shut down sooner or later so it was as good as time as any to get the most out of it. Though you were paid barely enough to cover one proper meal, all you were required to do was sit there and wait it out until your shift ended.
While taking out the trash in the back alley, you heard footsteps and then the ring of the front entrance— of course, someone had to come in as soon as you left. Wiping your hands on your weathered, dirty jeans, you rushed back in through the back entrance but froze immediately when you heard a loud crashing sound from inside the store. Slowly peering out from the staff-only door, your eyes landed on a dark figure in the canned food aisle haphazardly swiping from the shelves and tossing them into a black duffel bag. A hood hung over the thief's head and a black mask covered the bottom half of their face. Even though their eyes were out in the open, they were moving so frantically that it was hard to get a good look at them. The black duffel bag they were throwing the cans into was covered in dirt and the straps looked like a slight tug would be enough to rip them off. You thought about running up to the thief and hitting them over the head— you recalled a metal rod readily stationed behind the cash register— but you couldn’t get you legs to budge. Right then, as you foresaw, the straps on the duffel bag completely tore off and sent the can-filled mass straight onto the floor where it sounded an even louder crash as the contents fell out onto the ground and began rolling away.
The thief let out a groan and cursed while they tried their best to gather all the cans that had been strewn about, the soles of their boots squeaking against the smooth floor. This was you chance. You willed you legs to move and darted behind the cash register, grabbing the metal rod, and sprinted as fast as you could towards the figure. Your sudden and heavy footsteps did not go unnoticed by the thief, however, and they stopped their frenzied movements to look up at the source. There was just enough time for them to see the hostile scowl on your face before the thief lunged to the side, avoiding the metal rod that struck the floor with a loud ring. You had missed your initial swing but then you began waving the rod in the thief’s direction with little to no coordination, the weight of the metal rod sending it to and fro. The thief scurried away on the floor trying to dodge your swings as much as they could.
“No wait!” the figure pleaded, crossing their hands up over their head, palms facing the person in front of them. “Stop!” they could barely speak, expecting the worst, “please…” they begged.
Your reluctantly stopped your violent swinging and after realizing the final blow didn’t come, the thief opened their eyes to come face to face to you standing over them. The mere action of you pulling the rod to your side sent them cowering. Both his hood and mask had been pulled down and you could see his eyes wide in fear as his chest heaved up and down— he looked so scared that you even felt a tiny bit of sympathy for him yet, you looked down at him with a gaze so guarded and cold it sent chills down his spine. Tuffs of his messy brown hair stuck out disheveled, his mouth was agape from trying to suck in as much air as he could, and droplets of sweat were beginning to form along his hairline. He felt himself getting more and more intimidated by the second— your intense glare bore through him like two bullets, your tight grip on the metal pipe, and your other hand balled up in a fist ready as if ready to continue your previous assault on him.
Unbeknownst to him, behind your thick façade, you were also losing it. You had never encountered something even remotely similar to this— usually, the only people who bothered to cause a scene were thugs looking for any cash they could grab. What do I do from here? What if he’s dangerous? Should I call the police? But he looks so scared. But the thing that plagued your mind the most was how you were going to go about cleaning up this mess. Great, I guess that’s another job down the drain. There’s really nothing else down here. Not knowing what to do next, you opted to ask him the only question your mind was capable of coming up with.
“Who are you?” you demanded, staring right into the man’s dark brown irises.
It took a few moments but once he regained the slightest bit composure he stuttered out what was presumably his name, “T-Taki.”
You didn’t reply, but you knew you couldn’t keep up your demeanor much longer. You understood why he was doing this, judging by his clothes you could tell he had no other option— the threads that held his sweater together at the seams were loose and bursting, the t-shirt under it was covered in holes that revealed his raw skin underneath, his long cargo pants were blotched in dirt and soil and so were his boots. After hearing how weak his voice was in response to your question, you let your hand loosen its grasp on the metal rod, allowing it to fall with a loud clang that rang through the entire store.
“Get up,” you spoke in a monotonous tone, using your hand to gesture at Taki. When he stared at you in confusion, you repeated herself but louder. Somewhere in your tone was a tinge of softness, albeit rough and unpolished, but compassionate nonetheless. “Get up, come on,” you stretched out your hand. Taki was hesitant but took your hand and let you pull him up.
Out of nowhere, a flood of dizziness took over you, pushing you to almost topple over. You pulled your hand away from Taki's and to your own head in an attempt to calm it and figure out what was wrong with it. Your vision spun as you saw multiple different variations of the same things around you. When you looked at your hands, the intricate pattern of lines on your palms were warped and twisting, running up your arms. The aisles that surrounded you started duplicating, the lights overhead flickering at unnatural and sporadic intervals. Your legs gave out and you dropped onto your knees, the once cold and hard floor began to melt and succumb under the weight of your limbs protruding into it. The strands of hair that fell from the sides of your head began to stretch until the ends started to bunch up on the floor and mix with the liquid-like consistency of the tiles. What is this? Am I dreaming? No, not once in your life had you ever remembered a dream, much less something as visceral as what you was experiencing.
But then right as your consciousness began to descend into the depths of your mind and the light bleeding in through your eyes started to waver, an overwhelming surge of cold took over you— almost like a downpour of frigid, cold water retrieved straight from a glacier, but flooding out from within you. The ice spread like weeds from your chest to both ends of your body. You couldn’t move anymore, your limbs were suspended, the strands of your hair rigid and brittle like icicles, your palms stuck to the floor, even the air was so still you couldn't tell if you were still breathing. Your mind was no longer clouded, in fact, it was the clearest it had ever been. Then, in that one moment, that single juncture in time, you felt like your entire life, and more you could not yet pinpoint, was clinched into a standstill. Still. You were still.
Off to your side, Taki stood in a daze, staring at whatever was right in front of him. His eyes were telling him it was you, but his mind argued otherwise. His arms were down by his sides, the ends of his tattered sleeves covering the bottom of his scuffed palms. His expression remained unchanging, but his eyes were doing something else— whatever he was looking at kept making his pupils dilate in and out rapidly. Though it was hard to notice due to how deep the brown of his eyes were, the line that bordered the pupil from the iris kept fluctuating, breathing— akin to a camera lens trying to focus on something that isn’t there.
The hum from the vents was as loud as ever, bending and folding onto itself, into layers of different pitches and patterns, piercing through you and Taki like needles. Yet, you and the boy next to you remained immobilized, trapped in your own worlds. Only when you realized that the humming had subsided, did you wake from your trance and turned to look at each other. You were still on the floor with both of your knees planted on the cold tiles, your eyes colored only confusion and alarm. Taki reciprocated the same expression, stood looking down at you in complete dismay.
“Did you see—”
“What was that?!” You blurted out, startling the boy in front of you. You stared at your hands, then the floor, then pulled at your own hair— nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Standing up, you rushed over to the vent next to the cash register, pulling the grate open to check the inside. Nothing. You dropped the flimsy piece of metal in your hand and began frantically scanning the aisles.
“Where are you?” You muttered. You pushed open the front entrance and scanned the area— nothing, just the usual gas pumps.
Taki followed in pursuit, “Wait, hold on!”
“You,” you began, turning to stare into his eyes with the same intensity as before, only a dozen times worse. “That was you, wasn't it?” You pulled him by the collar of his ragged shirt, bunching up the material in your tight fists.
Taki kept opening his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He knew just as much as you did, he was in no place to provide answers.
“Say something! Can’t you speak?”
“I..”
“What did you do to me?”
“I don’t know!” he blurted out, stunning you. “I don’t know what happened. I’m just as confused as you are, okay? I don’t know what that was, I don’t understand anything about anything right now.” He put his hands around your wrists and tried to loosen your grip but as soon as he touched your skin, something whizzed by your heads, and the sound of shattering glass broke open the quiet like a crowbar prying open a locked safe. Something tore through the air and pierced through the front window of the store. Clear shards were sent flying dangerously close to where you and Taki were standing. After half a second, barely enough for either of you to react, another window burst into smithereens.
Taki grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the ground with him. There were barely any windows left to pierce but the projectiles whizzing past continued anyway. In the midst of all the chaos, Taki pointed at the closest gas pump and nudged you out of your gaze, then promptly dragged you with him before you had the chance to respond. No choice but to be dragged along with him, you barely get on your feet before following close behind. The rain of metal began to pour into the store and clashed against the sides of the shelves, the objects on them toppling over. The sounds of the store folding into itself blended in with the ear-piercing gunshots.
They pressed their back up against the cold metal plating of the gas pump, trying to scoot as far away as they could from the shards of glass on the ground. Taki’s hand was still gripped around your wrist. At this point, you felt the cold seeping into your fingertips but you didn’t complain. If he hadn’t dragged you away from that store you probably would’ve bled to death right then and there, you could stand to tolerate the loss of circulation in your hand. The building in front of them was being devastated by the storm of bullets raining down against its concrete-coated walls, the brick underneath being torn open. Moments later, the lights began to flicker, the wires hidden behind the ply wall coming loose and struggling amidst the shower of metal. The hefty beams that stretched across the ceiling came crashing down, now laying limp over the shelves. The first thing to burst into flames was the icebox, its buzzing completely drowned out by everything else that was happening. Then it spread to the clothes, then to the preserved foods, then to the rest of the aisles. Everything was set ablaze in a mesh of deep oranges and vibrant yellows— the vivid hues refracted off the shards of glass that lay scattered on the ground and bounced off your clothes. A sight this entrancing was rare to come by— you and Taki stared at it, almost mesmerized by the explosions of color before you, so much so that you didn’t notice the bullets had quieted down.
The flames grew to twice the height of the original building but they didn’t spread any further, as if they were being enclosed in. The air around you remained cold and bitter— if you closed your eyes, it would’ve felt like nothing had changed, like there wasn’t an entire building being engulfed in blistering, hot fire less than ten meters away. Taki relaxed his grip on your wrist, allowing the blood to trickle back into the ends of your fingers.
“Taki…” You began, your voice almost inaudible.
The boy beside your turned to face you, his eyes now looking a lot calmer than they were a few moments ago. You kept looking forward but your eyes too had been relieved of the panic and shock that strained them moments before. When you didn’t say anything else, he turned to look around the gas pumps, searching for who or whatwas shooting at them.
Nothing. Nothing on the road, nothing behind the fences on the other side.
You looked down at the wrist Taki was holding, examining the red streaks printed on your bare skin peeking out through his fingers. You then used your other hand to gently nudge away his fingers and reveal more of your flesh underneath. Taki felt your touch against his skin and turned back to you. His brows instantly softened when he saw you inspecting the red prints on your wrist.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he glazed over the prints with his thumb, “I must’ve grabbed it too tight.”
“It’s fine,” your eyes didn’t leave your hands, “if you didn’t, I probably would be dead.” The corners of your mouth curved to form the slightest of smiles. “Did you see anyone?” you asked, looking up at him before turning your head towards the highway.
“Uh, no, there isn’t anyone there.”
You raised an eyebrow, “then how…?”
Taki shrugged in response and turned back around the gas pump to check again. “Yeah, nothing.”
Nothing made sense.
“There aren’t any shells either, I don’t see—,” Taki noticed you walking back towards the now decimated store. “Wait! Hold on, it’s dange…”
The flames were gone. Quiet. Still.
“...rous.”
It was dark again, darker now that there was no light being emitted from fluorescent lights in the store, darker now that the flames that engulfed it just a moment ago had seemingly vanished into thin air. Even the columns of smoke from the fire had disappeared, the only remnants left were the charred metal beams and a few other objects that were too burned to be recognizable. You hesitantly place your hand flat against one of the metal supports— cold, it was cold, much colder than it should have been.
What in the world is this? You rubbed the hand covered in black char on your jeans and stepped into the store, the rubble crunching beneath your feet. You could see the back wall of the staff room from the front door.
“How— What is this?” You mumbled under your breath.
Taki carefully made his way to where you were standing. There was indeed a fire, no doubt about that— all the rubble and charred remains prove so. But that was all that was left, no smoke, no stench, and the air was as cold as it had ever been, if not colder than before, biting at their exposed skin. His black duffel bag was incinerated, along with the cans of food it contained. It was hard to believe that a fire strong enough to strip an entire building down to its foundations left no other signs of it ever having been there. Not to mention the unknown origins of the bullets that swept over and set the whole place ablaze in the first place.
They can’t have just appeared, right? Taki questioned. And the fire… can’t have just disappeared. Taki recalled back to when the store was still intact and both of them were inside. After you confronted him, after he fell to the floor, and after you offered him your hand.Everything was coming back to him, everything that happened before the bullets began raining down on the store, and maybe, just maybe, some sort of explanation for what was happening. While you were both frozen in the store, Taki remembered staring at something he couldn’t quite identify— almost something past his vision, something further.
“H-hey uh, come here, I wanna test something,” he called out, shaking you out of your daze. “Remember what happened before the windows got shot?”
“Uh, well, we…” Your memory was still blurry, the adrenaline coursing through your veins hadn't yet calmed. Your mind recalled something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
“It was hard for me to remember too but, didn’t I grab your hand? Back inside, after you dropped the metal thing you were holding.”
“Wait yeah, I pulled you up and then-”
“Yeah, we kind of just froze, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Same thing outside too! Right before the windows started breaking.” His voice rose, almost enthusiastic.
“You’re right-" Your voice trailed off, struggling to follow what he was trying to spell out for you, "but how—”
“I was thinking we should, maybe, try it again?” Taki stretched out his hand.
“What?” You backed away from him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Just— I think it’ll help explain what happened.”
“What are you talking about?” You paused and took a few to process your thoughts. "Even if that’s true, what if it gets worse?" You glanced down at your palms, then at Taki’s outstretched hand.
“It's worth a shot.” Taki reasoned. "Try to stay calm, okay?"
You nodded as you slowly inched your hand closer to Taki’s.
Taki sucked in as much air as his lungs allowed him too and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, the red prints still slightly visible through his fingers. You did the same.
Experiment Log
Date: ██/█8/█06█
Test Subject: IL-09
Procedure: Subject was isolated in CONTROL (07) for [48] hours and was deprived of any social interaction. Regular meals were provided through the secured hatch. Subject was observed through four different night-vision and low light cameras mounted in all four corners.
Main observations: Subject expressed initial confusion. Shortly after, the subject began showing signs of stress and aggression. After approximately [12] hours, the subject’s behavior had become erratic and increasingly panicked. After [24] hours, the subject spent several hours sitting in one of four corners of the room. At the precise timestamp [36 hours, 12 minutes, and 47 seconds], three out of the four observation cameras' links were severed. Minimal footage was recovered from those three cameras. Subject was out of view of the remaining, functioning camera.
Miscellaneous observations: Subject successfully used the corner hatch for stool deposits.
Notes: After [28] hours, the subject refrained from touching the food provided through the secured hatch.
> end of file reached. see you again soon!
tag list: @1009high, @luneilyyyy
extended note; I've had this world developed and built for over six years now, actually. I have an entire document detailing the world's history, the social classes, the ability/skills as well as a whole lot more! hopefully, in the future, I'll get to writing more fics with other members in this universe. but for now, thanks for reading!
エンティーム ───── it’s been three years since japan had been taken over by non-humans, three years where yuma never had to leave his apartment. until one day he runs out of food. no longer able to break into the neighboring floors, he musters up the courage to leave, when he finds you, his high school crush, who changed so much… or maybe not at all. @lune-net
hereditary : i watched you shapeshift 𔓘 &TEAM中耒田悠真 🛋️ femalereader oneshot WARN! mdni protected sex, slight choking / forced quiet, romance, yearning, post-apocalypse, disease, death & suicide, mentions of weapons, brief fighting, angst ( ¿ ! ) 8776k
사랑, soph 🌫️ happy holidays and new year @lacedwithmsg xx
This is an emergency broadcast: Japan has been taken over. Stay inside. Board up your doors and windows. Prepare to stay in for a long time. The military from abroad is on their way. This is an emergency broadcast: Japan has been taken over. Stay inside. Board up your doors and windows. Prepare to stay in for a long time. The military from abroad is on their way. This is an emergency broadcast: Japan has been taken over. Stay inside. Board up your doors and windows. Prepare to stay in for a long time. The military from abroad is on the—
Hope was a funny thing. Finicky, complicated. And maybe it was not lost. But the days got longer, and eventually death and gore was all anybody knew. You were forced to grow up to survive. You had to take care of yourself. Days turning into weeks. Weeks turning into months, and months into years.
1070 days it's been since the fall of every societal structure that once dominated day-to-day life. The apartment building cut power some time during month two, the rest of the city going dark hours later… but at least he could see the stars from his balcony now. The constellations that he had no idea what their names even were—pretty, he thought.
The news stopped giving updates and the radio turned static after day six. Running water was a luxury after week three, but he remembered more of Dr. Stone than he thought. Until he didn’t.
Then he ran out of food on day 392… but at least he saw you.
Now, Yuma wouldn’t call himself much of an optimist anymore, but the sentiment can often be confused with momentary hopefulness. Another emotion that left nothing but disappointment in its wake.
Watching from a far was weird; Yuma knew that. But when you were so down-right encapsulating, practically dancing with every swing of your sword—the one he didn’t know when or how you learned to use—he couldn’t help it. It looked natural clutched between your once perfectly manicured hand, body wrapped in faded-colored cloths, hair tied into a tight braid. You looked… straight out of an Anime. There were splotches of mysterious guts and dirt that littered your skin, scars now from what he could only assume were the monsters that owned Japan; the place he could once call home.
He knew you from back at school, almost 3 years ago now before the world had fallen into ruin. It took him a while to muster the courage to leave the 9th floor, only seeing the chaos below from above. But humans were designed with flaws, and one of them was the need to eat. Though, for about a year and a half, he’d break into the surrounding apartments and rummage through the things that were left behind. Eventually, things were scarce, either taken by passersbys during the early days or too rotten and gross to even identify. And when his stomach growled louder than the monsters, he feared he had no choice anymore.
Water, on the subject of survival, was just another thing when he’d seen so much on how to boil out the bacteria from the pails he’d left on the roof to collect the rain. Of course that only worked with his little gas powered stove, which's tank eventually ran out. And planting vegetables, much less from seeds, on the balcony was something he was, unfortunately, in the dark about. Though desperate times call for desperate measures, so, he tried it.
Spoiler alert, they died. Much like most every living thing nowadays. He didn’t know if it was pure luck or something entirely different that got him this far; and he was even less sure if he was grateful.
On the other hand, you’d be surprised how fast nature reclaimed the terrain in such little time. He thought to himself that it could’ve been beautiful, the first time he’d been practically forced to leave his sanctuary, jealous that it couldn’t be luxurious fruits intertwining the railing instead of varieties of vines climbing overrun apartment buildings, flowers springing up between the cracks in the sidewalks, and trees twisting with the wind.
All things considered though, it was beautiful.
“She’s beautiful,” Yuma looked out the open window, the soft breeze of spring tousling his hair. There was a faint scent of cherry blossoms and roses (your favorite) in the wind. Lunch-time chatter echoed in the room, people coming in and out with the quiet drag of the door. He stretched as the sun warmed his uniform-clad body, as if he was a cat in the sun, letting out a hum (pur) at the feeling. “Jo, she’s smart and neat, and you can tell she’s dedicated to her studies—But even so, she makes time for her friends. I really admire a woman who is disciplined, you know. It’s about balance and she… has it.”
Another one of his friends, the more outspoken transfer student, Nicholas, chimed in. “Why don’t you just ask her out, dude? You’ve had a crush since, I don’t know, God knows when! We’re going to graduate in a couple months, and with exams coming up you know she’ll be busy. Wouldn’t it be nice to study together? Decide on universities together? Build a foundation, maybe. Think about it.”
Yuma’s head collided with his palm, giving the boys beside and in front of him a dramatic sigh. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it. That's all I think about actually.”
The silence was deafening, but not brutal, just how Jo was when he was deep in contemplation—Nicholas shutting up to give someone else a chance at an opinion.
“Maybe it’ll be better for you, you’ll focus more if she was your girlfriend, maybe even a top student. Better late than never, right?”
Nicholas scoffed, looking around the room until his eyes dragged over your slouched body; studying, of course. “Then he’d have to dethrone his beloved—and that’ll never happen. He’d give it all up for her.”
“Why are you just standing there? Run, idiot!”
Yuma damn-near pointed his finger back at himself—were you actually talking to him? He saw you running towards him, but maybe there was someone standing behind him, someone you knew. Or maybe he’d finally lost it and his imagination was taking over just like the monsters did. But that would be so much worse than them. That would be just down-right cruel.
You grabbed his arm, looking over your shoulder at the Hell which was just released; hoards of them, more than you could handle with a mere blade.
They weren’t human, not anymore, that was as much as you knew, skin slimy and rough like a fish, but still anatomically correct. Their legs went in all directions it seemed, but their movements swayed steadily, allowing for a faster pace than what zombies were portrayed in movies as. Though they also didn’t have a craving for human-flesh, it was more like a compulsion to hunt for fun, for sport. Like it was just a big game.
It was disturbing more than horrifying.
“Yuma! I’ll leave you here if you don’t get up! It’s every one for themself, you know.”
But, despite that mindset, you stopped to help. Of course you stopped to help! What else would you have done? Maybe the world had lost humanity, but it was oddly obvious that you hadn’t. You were you after all. The same person who would help someone who’d been tripped in the hallway, one who had dropped their books, or was upset after a mock-exam. You’d spend your time, even in a hurry, to assist because that was just who you were—and that’s why Yuma liked you so damn much. Because you were admirable, everything he wasn’t able to do, you did.
He liked you because you were you unapologetically. You laughed loudly, smiled so brightly and had a soft glint in your eye for everyone regardless. You seemingly had so much love to give and life to live and Yuma would do anything to share the sentiment with you.
Anything to be with you.
Yuma eventually got up, shrugging off your grip on his arm as you made a beeline for the nearest shelter. Though, when you got to the metal ‘employee only’ door, you held it open, ushering him with a hurried motion. It was millimeters until they got to him, you saw it, but still you risked your life to aid his—someone you hadn’t seen for what felt like decades at this point.
Yuma thought that he should’ve been just another face to you.
You slammed the door, in result a loud bang echoing the building. Your body jolted quickly, scanning the area. You could hear a faint clicking, getting louder with every passing second.
“This way,” You took off, and Yuma had literally no choice but to follow; like his feet only took direction from you.
It was a shopping mall you found yourself in, displays thrown around, floor littered by merchandise and hazards. One wrong move and your location would be given away.
Why were you doing this? you asked yourself, you were better alone. People made you weak, and you weren’t made of porcelain anymore. The world made sure of that.
Finally, you turned off into an opening, a maze of dark structures that surely only went back so far. You felt around until you felt what you presumed was a handle, taking a breath, gripping and pulling. Thankfully, it opened enough for your body to fit through, taking hold of the man with you and dragging him inside as well.
Your finger pressed to your lip, eyes cracked like you were focused on reading something very important—though the only thing you were trying to gauge was how far away the clicking echoed. Yuma had no idea though, too busy being distracted by the thump of his heartbeat in his ears to notice.
One thing he didn’t understand (from seeing you before) was how you feigned such bravery when he was quite literally about to throw up.
Or maybe you just were always like that; though the hair clips and nails did a good job hiding it in high school.
Just another reason why you’re perfect.
He tried very hard not to make a sound, but his breathing was heavy, and so was the ever-present feeling of doom. He could imagine it already: ripping skin, pooling and spurting blood, your lifeless body laid out in front of him as he awaited his turn.
Fuck.
His eyes shut tightly, trying to imagine anything else. But the way his back was pressed to a cold, plaster-plastic wall—enclosed by three others in a tiny display room that sold bathtubs and showers—spelled out a word he’d been so irrationally afraid of his entire life. Death.
Mostly because he fought with what he believed happened after. Was it reincarnation or void? Was it Heaven or Hell? He hadn’t seen much of it growing up, so the concept was somewhat foreign, just something he saw on TV. The same channel he’d see the dead thanking the fans during an award show on the next day. It was contradictory, creating a false sense of security.
You stayed silent for a while, a long while, eventually sliding down the wall, bunching your knees to your chest. He stared down at you for a couple of minutes after (that felt like hours; an askew concept of time) before copying.
The silence was deafening now that he’d heard someone after years of only talking to himself to remain sane. He chewed on his lip, constantly checking through the clouded glass, and then back to you, and the wall that wasn’t see through on his other side. He was sure you could feel the anxiety radiating, but you ignored it, lowering your head and closing your eyes for a moment.
Maybe you could finally let out the breath you’d been holding, chest tight, throat clogged… head pounding.
“I-is it okay?” You couldn’t even count it as a whisper, a mouse wouldn’t even have made the small of a sound. Nonetheless, it was the proximity that allowed you to hear his words somewhat comprehensively. “Are we going to die here, yn?”
You figured that what he wanted to hear was reassurance that his worries could subside, but you were never much of an idiot to begin with, and thinking you could relax anywhere nowadays was pure stupidity.
Your head remained down, voice almost at a normal talking volume. “What kind of question is that?”
He shushed, body instinctively stiffening towards you.
“They’re not here anymore,” You replied, his eyes narrowing, though you couldn’t see anyways. His eyebrows also came together. How could you be so sure?
But he’d trust you.
You seemed to have been outside more than he did over the last few years, maybe you knew all about them and were hiding behind that mask. Maybe you’d never been cooped up in a place for years, like he was. Maybe you were forced to be this way—cold and blunt.
“Just listen and tell me if you hear anything.”
So, he did. He shut his mouth and tuned into his surroundings. Nothing. Not even after a while did he hear anything but a couple drips, creaks and natural building sounds.
It left him room to be haunted by his thoughts, a parasitic lace in his veins as he picked at the skin around his fingernails. Questions circled the walls of his brain, clawing their way to the surface, things he’d kept to himself for too long. Worries that kept him awake all night. He needed to tell someone—something—and for some odd reason, he thought maybe you could relate in some fucked up way.
His voice invaded the stale air between the two of you. And maybe you weren’t listening, but it didn’t matter. Once he started, he wasn’t sure he’d stop without spilling his guts. “On that day it happened, my parents were taking my sister to her friend's house.”
God, he hoped you understood. He didn’t want to be the only one suffering from the crushing weight of uncertainty and doubt. But he also didn’t want you to be suffering as he was. “They never made it back, I waited for three years, stuck it out for three damn years—what if today was finally the day they made it back to me and… I wasn’t there.”
You’d made it out of that building about two weeks ago, and, of course, Yuma has been following you around ever since.
He’d seen you during the early mornings perfecting your swings after watching the sun rise. You looked so peaceful under the golden hour of dusk to dawn. Again, he didn’t want to stare, but you made it hard not to.
You’d been moving from place to place, only a couple of bags to pack up—which he did for you, pretending that it wasn’t just an excuse to get dragged along.
The thought that you’d leave him to fend for himself in the middle of the night did cross his mind… once. You didn’t need him, his protection, his company, his anything. You were fine alone, you’d been fine this whole time, while he was what? Blissfully unaware of the horrors that went bump in the night, and during the day? It was a waking nightmare that you faced alone. He was the one who needed saving, not you. Never you.
But, if it ever came down to the roles reversed, he’d save you. In every life he’d save you.
Today, after walking more than a few miles, you found yourself sitting in a mattress store as Yuma rummaged through your things for something canned to give you.
He tried his best to get you to want him to be around you before you’d run off with the excuse of perfecting skills or picking through trash and leftovers.
He knew why it sunk his heart every time you’d perk-up with something to say. He feared it would just be a goodbye in the making, one he had no say in. Nonetheless, he listened. Every time. Every damn time.
“They have no sense of smell, and most of them cannot see after the infection takes hold—it must’ve been a recent mutation that caused their eyes to develop. Yet, despite that, it wasn’t enough to allow them to in dark places, hence the clicking. Probably something to do with their light receptors and pupil dilation. They’re not human, obviously, and when I raided the universities in Tokyo they hadn’t found anything distinct about their DNA, which was weird.” You hummed a moment, remembering the papers you sifted through, questions with no answers leaving you feeling hopeless. You risked your life to continue the work the scientists never got a chance to during the evacuation. You had some experience in labs, doing tests, because of a pre-university course you took in preparation. “The weirdest part was that Hyogo Health Science had a specimen, a sample from one of the early cases… but all it said was illness: cause unknown. Parasite?”
Yuma remained silent as you looked off to the side, the small amount of light you let him put on illuminating the features that hardened over the last couple of years. The ones that dimmed as the world grew darker, colder. He stopped shifting things around in the bag, studying your emotion on an otherwise emotionless face.
He liked it, in a strange way. He liked to know you weren’t just made of plastic.
“You know, before all this, I was going to find the cure to cancer.” You huffed out a half-laugh—almost like it was so audacious and naive to believe such a thing could be true.
The void you left as your noise died off was worse than being left outside to die, in Yuma’s opinion. Which he’d admit was very biased when it came to you. Regardless, it had his heart racing and hands shaking ever-so-slightly—the anticipation was killing him slowly.
In the time you’d spent together, albeit, short, you’d remained closed off. All Yuma knew about you was what he knew from high school, and even that was second-hand. He’d try to ask questions, however, you’d brush them off, or pretend to be asleep even if he knew you weren’t. You didn’t do a lot of that. He didn’t need verbal confirmation to know that much.
He couldn’t figure it out though. Why—no, what made you like this? Was it the normalization of death, grim and gore? Or was it before?
Every notion he thought he had for you was crumbling, being rebuilt by little bits of the truth. It’s like the fog was dimming the halo he put over you, and suddenly the pedestal didn’t seem so high anymore.
“Before losing my mom in middle school, she asked me to make a difference, be the shining star in an unlit city. Be the hope that was lost. Be good.” His breath hitched when he saw the shiny outline of a tear roll down your cheek. He fought with the urge to reach out and wipe it away, afraid of the comfort you’d reject if he did. Maybe you saw him hesitate, maybe you didn’t, despite that, you continued, hands gluing together in your lap. “She told me that I could do anything I wanted in the entire world—no, universe. I was her pride and joy all the way up until the moment she passed… an–and I couldn’t even be with her—too focused on studying for the entrance exam to Keio University. I was 13, I didn’t need to. I should’ve been there for her last breath.”
“Stop,” It wasn’t your fault; was what he wanted to say, but all he could focus on was how his hand clutched yours so tightly. And how you just… let him. He waited so long to feel your touch, fantasizing about living in your skin since what felt like ages now, that there was no allure to it. It wasn’t catastrophic, like he once believed it would be. It wasn’t everything he hoped for, but what was anymore? What did he even hope for, time to stop so he could forever live a life with you, where nothing mattered? That was mindless dreaming.
“Don’t say tha—“
“I didn’t even get to tell her I loved her. I missed her daily call because I was so fucking focu—it was meaningless, Yuma! I applied three years ago, and I–I didn’t even get in.”
And that's when he knew every show you put on, every smile you lit up a room with, the unwavering bravery you fronted was… fake. Yet, it didn’t sway his feelings towards you. In fact, he was seeing you as more human now than when humans were the dominant species.
Drip, drip, drip. Until it was a constant rhythm against the silence that fell upon the room. A comfortable feeling you relished in. The rain picked up, the clouds gloomy and low all day.
Yuma's hand was still in yours, and maybe deep down it comforted you more than you’d like to admit. Nobody had done that for a long time. Nobody had wanted to be around you long enough to get between the barrier of good and bad.
Well, that was until Yuma followed you around like a lost puppy. And that’s why you told him the one thing that had the tightest grip on your heart, metaphorical fingers digging into every ventricle and cavern.
You had secrets. Big ones even. You've been lying so long (to yourself) that you didn’t even know where the line between fabrication and reality was. It was too much. You put too much on yourself.
It was the studying. No, it was the keeping friends. Or maybe it was something entirely different. Perhaps the school lighting, or the wishing you could change the past. Maybe it was the gravestones you’d imagine faces on as you’d walk a familiar path. A path a teenage girl shouldn’t know, full of shadows that followed you around. The tears that stung—burned—burdens that weighed you down. It was the twisting guilt that left you so full of resentment towards yourself that you didn’t eat anymore. It was the constant reminder, the sirens and alarms, to be good. Better. It was your wrists. It was your throat being so choked up that your voice was quiet and low.
It was the life you lost the moment your mother lost hers.
But, you kept living even though you didn’t want to. The silent promise to her that you’d be okay even if she was just a guardian angel now.
Truth is, you weren’t okay, and you didn’t know how to tell anyone that you didn’t want to fight anymore. You’d give anything to just stop it all. You were tired of being haunted, being alone, being so angry and afraid. You just wanted to breathe in and not feel like it should be your last. Like you didn’t deserve the air you took in.
Maybe you were just a coward in disguise. Never getting close to anyone in fear that they’d leave you the same way. You said it was protecting your heart, but who were you kidding?
Flash. A loud echo of thunder following it. That brought you back to Earth, focused on the way Yuma’s hand had shifted your sleeve just a little higher.
And there it was. The reminder of the night that you’d had enough—snot and tears clouding better judgement; The pain and hurt too much to bear as you prayed to whoever was listening to take your life instead of hers.
Instead of waking up in her embrace, you woke up to a sterilized room. Dull and blank. Expressionless. Emotionless. Depressed.
However, they’d describe the outcome as a miracle, a second chance, a temporary feeling.
“It’s what your mother would’ve wanted.”
You didn’t know how you slept so well, but when your eyes cracked open, you felt like something inside you was shifted back into place. Your dream wasn’t even something worth remembering. Not painful, not pleasant. You don’t even remember waking up once during the night, much less, falling asleep.
That was a luxury nowadays, and most of the time you never hit REM unless you’d been up for three days prior. And if you did get some shut-eye, that’s all it was.
But the drained, crusted lacrimal ducts, and the pang in your chest sang a different song. You don’t just feel nothing, you feel everything. You feel it all.
You stifled a laugh, hand shooting up to cover your lips to capture the sound as you watched a ball thump against the side of some kid's head. He’d been stealing glances your way more often than not—paying absolutely zero attention to the football game going on. The game he was currently in the middle of the court-yard playing with a few other friends during free time.
At this moment, you couldn’t remember his name, somewhere in the archives of the hundreds on hundreds you’ve heard. But you knew he was in your class at least, sat a couple rows behind you. Notably, he wasn’t the best at school—a class clown, if you will—though not the bottom of the list either.
It was your duty to know the competition, nothing more than that.
The girl sat beside you, a friend, Rei, lowered her smiling face back to her phone, stating, “he’s got a crush on you, yn.”
You angled towards her slightly, though fronting indifference.
“Who doesn’t?” You joked.
“Nicho told Taki, who told Maki, who told Harua, who then told me, who is now telling you that Yuma has a crush on you. A big one from what he described. Well, I guess, obviously, he did just get hit in the face with a ball while staring at you—Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you stretched your arms up to reveal some skin. You practically set the poor boy up.”
It was warm, and your eyes drifted open and closed occasionally, not sure what was a dream and what was just your imagination. It didn’t seem to matter though, you weren’t concerned with the trivial details. Not when the mattress underneath you felt too comfortable, and the rain that continued from the night before was lulling.
You’d happily stay like this forever if you could. The hollow feeling that usually was close, somewhere else entirely for the moment.
“It’s not supposed to be done like that,” You explained, pink nail dragging along the worksheet between the pair of you.
A couple minutes prior you were paired with the student who was, supposedly, struggling the most to grasp this concept. Of course it had to be you who helped, you were the top of the top and you knew it like the back of your hand.
It was just this unit the boy was struggling with, and usually you were happy to assist, but you couldn’t help but find it a little comical that now that you knew Yuma had a crush on you—suspicious in the first place—he was the one you were paired with.
How was he supposed to focus?
“I’m sorry,”
The pencil dragged excruciatingly slow, over and over in the same line that you guess was helping him think. Maybe ground him?
Though you only stared at his hand flexing—knuckles white from how hard he was gripping it. It probably should’ve split by now.
He turned his head to you, eyes wide, eyebrows knit. “C-can you show me how?” You found it slightly endearing.
Snap out of it!
A smile plastered to your face. “Sure. Yeah, I can.”
And maybe you were high on the power trip that you didn’t realize the effect it would have if your hands brushed while bumping him off with your own… to make room for you to show him an example, of course.
Nothing else.
Your eyes shot open again at the rumble of thunder, arm coming up to rest over them for a second. You sighed out, chest rising and falling steadily.
Why were you dreaming of this—of him? And why did you have such a glow in your chest at the memories?
You tried to sit up, only now realizing that there was an arm over your midsection… and a body pressed against your side?
Yuma only pulled you closer in his sleep, tightening the grip on your side. You froze immediately, your breathing not-so steady anymore.
What were you doing? Why weren’t you trying to escape his grasp?
How could you when it felt like the concept of home, something you’ve lacked since who knows how long? Was it the first diagnosis? Or was it when it relapsed that you misplaced the feeling?
Maybe you never wanted to be distant. Maybe somewhere deep down you wanted to share the sentiment with him. Maybe it was the timing that wasn’t right. Or maybe it was just you who wasn’t right.
You’d drag him down with you, and you knew he’d let you. But you’d never let you do that to him. He had all the potential you didn’t. If you could give him everything that was handed to you, you would.
Then it would make it painless leaving it all behind.
His voice was low. Like you’ve scolded him to do, countless times at this point. “Yn,”
You continued to walk ahead of him, cursing yourself for letting it get out of hand. You should’ve left him in that mattress store when you had the chance. He barely even stirred when you slipped away.
Nonetheless, you didn’t go far.
“Slow down a sec,”
But here you were, almost a week and a half later replaying the same damn things. Why? What was he really doing for you? Making you vulnerable, susceptible, weak?
At first it was small, starting with ignoring attempts to get closer with closed-off answers, until you completely started to avoid him; Going to bed after it got too hard for him to stay up, making up excuses to do things alone, anything to get away long enough to feign ignorance.
The frigid air wasn’t the only thing that sent a chill down your spine. Not even the monsters fazed you now.
Instead it was the blossoming of something you couldn’t back away from that scared you—terrified you. You might as well have been dead with the sense of dread that consumed you.
You spun around, words spewing out faster than a thought could form. “Can you stop following me? I don’t need you.”
But you weren’t even sure if that was just another wall being put up or a thump of your heart that beat too fondly in his direction.
He stopped, taken aback, evidently. Then his expression changed, something along the lines of reassurance, features softening though it was only poison you hit him with.
He’s never been anything but gentle. Never anything but infatuated. It made your breath hitch, your heart skip a beat, palms sweat, stomach sink—
“I need you though.”
Grumble, grumble.
Your attention, that was on sharpening your knife as quietly as you possibly could, shifted to the man’s sleeping figure. Yuma, who you've grown fond of, comfortable with, even. He was across the room—granted, it was small—curled up by the sleeping bag (worn and torn) that you’d been using for God knows how long now.
For a moment, you only admired him, ignoring the stirring of discomfort, arms cradling his stomach. Though that only lasted a second before you were, as if possessed, clutching the suede cross-body bag that you kept all your non-perishable snacks in.
The least you could do was find him something to eat before he woke up. After all, he gave you such a good night's sleep a few weeks ago—and recently sleeping next to him, in closer proximity, was alleviating some of the hardships. Albeit, unbeknownst to him. But you knew; you’d never felt so well-rested. Not even before the world went to shit, too busy with your nose down a book to shut your eyes longer than a blink.
Consequently, it was because if you did, you’d be haunted by the memories you weren’t able to get back. You’d see the flashing lights, hear the heart monitor's consistent beep: a reminder of your failed attempt to be amongst the only person who mattered to you again.
But she was gone, and you were (unfortunately or fortunately) still living and breathing.
Maybe it was a sign, or maybe you just didn’t cut deep enough. Whatever the reason was, it drifted off as Yuma blinked awake.
You were staring, though your eyes were glazed over in a very not present in reality type of way. He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“Are you okay?”
You bit your lip, hesitant, before nodding.
“We need to get some food, we’re just about out.” You tossed a crackling wrapper his way, watching as it landed on the tile before him with a small sound, sliding across it. “This is all we have.”
He picked it up, holding it out to you. “You take it,”
“I had some before you woke up.”
“No you didn’t, don’t lie to me, yn.”
You swallowed hard, slightly overwhelmed by the dominance he possessed. You should’ve known that it went hand-in-hand with his nature to want to care for you, to give you a reason to trust him enough to.
You didn’t know what to say, putting the weapon down and getting up. His hand only went to his side after you took it, opening the package and taking a bite though you felt nauseous.
“Have the rest, Yuma, please.”
You laughed slowly, looking at the foil package squeezed between his forefinger and thumb. It was barely visible through a sliver of moonlight.
Before you thought of the consequences, you joked so casually it caught the boy off-guard. You haven’t been ignoring him for a couple days now, but still.
“That’s not how you ask a girl to have sex with you, you know.”
Yuma turned to face you, almost horrified at your joke—face obviously red, though you couldn’t see it.
He’d seen you under almost every light now; harsh, dim, nonexistent.
But fuck… he loved you. Yearned for you. He knew that now for sure. From the moment he saw you, he knew there was something below the surface, something he needed to see. And though he thought, in high school, that there was no bad and ugly, in some fucked-up way, he was glad there was. He saw it—saw all of it. And even if you thought that you were no different than the monsters outside, he was glad it was you inside. With him. Because maybe the monster in him loved the monster in you.
And maybe that’s where the true monster was unleashed.
Desperation laced every movement of his; lips on yours faster than his brain could comprehend. It knocked the wind out of you, to be honest, grip tight on your hips even through the layers.
Layers he desperately wanted to take off.
Despite that, he knew he shouldn’t… couldn’t. Not with the things that lurked around—what if you had to run? He’d never put you through mortification, though, honestly, he’s not sure it’d faze you. You’d find a way to make it look natural, beautiful even, laugh about it later, blade drawn as you looked like the deadliest ballerina to keep on living through this nightmare.
It’d probably just make him want you more.
He kissed down your jaw, holding your head back with his hand on the side of your face. One that felt like fire against you. He probably sucked purple and blue and green marks into your skin, though you didn’t have to hide anything from anyone anymore. Not that you really wanted to. Who was even around to say anything?
You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling slightly—which made him come back down from the Heavens and right into your arms.
Oh, it’s real.
Your lips were back on his, kissing him like a school girl virgin. But, it’s just been so long since you’d felt anything for anyone that something about it was enlightening.
He broke off, noticing the lidded eye-contact that you shied away from.
“Should I have said, yn, will you please let me have sex with you?”
You whined, seriously, and Yuma thought that he died on the spot—knees damn-near buckling.
“Mhm,” You hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and jaw, and lips. But he didn’t kiss you back, only held you firmly in place.
The answer wasn’t good enough.
“Mhm isn’t a yes or no.”
Your eyebrows knit, and desperation clawed its way from you. “Yes! Fuck, okay? Yes,”
You’ve been in control of him, you always have, but there was always something alluring about breaking you. Maybe you’d be the one to bring a different side out of him.
He wanted you to let go of all the things he knew swirled inside your head and be present. He’s wanted you to since high school—since he figured you out a couple months ago. He’s wanted you to just lay it all down and not think three-steps ahead for once.
You dropped to your knees in front of him, the sight making him harder… somehow. He was sure that if you did what he thought you were planning, he’d come immediately. So, he dropped to his too, eyes wide as you let out a surprised laugh.
There was the resolve cracking for you. It’s just the effect you have it seems. You made him so nervous, yet confident, so turned on but scared to break. You heightened every sense of his. So beautiful, so… perfect.
“Yn, I—“ You cut his confession (caused by the heat of the moment?) short, clashing lips, tongue, teeth so much so that he groaned louder than intended.
You pushed him back impatiently, throwing a leg over his torso and sitting. It was almost too natural the way you fit together, making his hands shake against your thighs.
Experimentally, you rolled your hips against his, feeling the grip he had, tightening with every drag and pull.
His mouth opened then closed with nothing and everything to say, only short breaths—huffs of air—leaving instead.
Yuma needed you so badly it hurt, fingers working quickly to unbutton the pants you had on, dragging them only so far down your hips before getting stopped. But even the little sight of skin spilling over was going to send him right off the edge.
“Get up,” He said, stopping your movement entirely. You whimpered this time—pathetically, might he add—so different from your usual that he was convinced that maybe it wasn’t you. “I’ll give you what you want.”
And he did. Taking his jacket off and putting it underneath you before laying your back to the ground. He didn’t even take his time dragging the fabric down your legs, throwing it off to the side like you’d never need them again.
He hoped you’d never need them again.
His rough palms dragged your knees apart, running a finger down your slit before attempting to dive in.
You stopped him before he had a chance to breach, too impatient for that. You needed some sort of relief before you actually started to cry. “Please, I’m good—I don’t need it—just you, please.”
This isn’t exactly what he imagined your first time would be like with him. Actually, he’d imagined almost every scenario, except this one.
But it didn’t matter, whatever you wanted, he’d give to you.
As he fumbled to get his pants down too, you found the foil-wrapped square that started this whole thing. That broke the growing tension. Shattered whatever built inside you after you’d woken up in his arms.
You ripped it open, pumping his cock a couple of times. Yuma faltered above you. The sight was the most unholy thing he’d ever seen: thighs spread, eyes wide but still full of something he’d mistake as love or lust, hand on him.
Oh, he could die right now.
He grabbed the condom from you, putting it to the tip and using his other hand to help you roll it down with each stroke. Then he was dropping his body, almost, on yours, hips resting together.
Your hand pushed his shirt higher, feeling his hot skin, which you wish was fully against yours. Though, the thought was long gone by the time he pushed in slowly, giving you inch by inch and watching how you’d take it.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him down to you as you pressed your lips to his in an attempt to quiet the pleasure that overcame you. It wasn’t even the stretch or burn that could cloud it. You could feel it, he could definitely feel it.
You were losing it.
This was too much.
Every pull back, and slam back in had your back arching against him. Maybe it’d been too long, but this is probably the best you’ve ever felt, ever.
Then, through the ringing in your ears, you heard it; faint clicking. His movement stopped completely at the sound, heart dropping out his body right onto the floor—metaphorically, of course, as he was still very much on top of you.
But fuck it was like possession the way he couldn’t stop flinching now that you were wrapped around him, clenching so deliciously like you didn’t want him to either.
Your wide eyes rolled to the back of your head as he dragged his hips, rolling back into you shallowly—like he couldn’t (wouldn’t) stop now that he has you completely at his mercy. Your mouth fell open, but before a sound escaped you, Yuma muffled you with a hand, and then pressed his lips to it.
He was obviously trying to gather your attention from the monstrous world outside, even if just for a moment. He’d dedicate the rest of his days to shielding your eyes from the horrors and making you feel like nothing had changed from bright to so vastly dark.
His other hand found a place around your neck, squeezing only enough to blur your thoughts away from reality—like he wanted.
He felt you tighten around him, hitting a peak you couldn’t back down from, arms wrapping to hug him as close as possible.
You wanted him to live in your skin—and maybe you always have—but now you’re not sure you’ll be satisfied any other way.
“Merry Christmas,” Yuma held out a poorly wrapped box; other scraps of cardboard and newspaper plastered to the sides. He even went as far as making a little origami crane—probably because he didn’t know how to make a bow—but it was the sentiment that brought tears to your eyes. “Thank you, yn.”
You choked it down.
“How do you know it’s Christmas? There’s no snow on the ground yet.”
You took the box as he replied, “I don’t, but I’ll start counting now and next year it’ll be Christmas again. Traditions are formed that way, you know.” He eagerly waited as you carefully put it on your crossed legs. You picked the little crane off, setting it aside after admiring how spotless the paper looked.
Maybe there are still untouched things in this world. Ironically, the little thing gave you the same feeling the man, who looked ragged and dirty now, did.
He watched as you took the lid off, inside was a few pieces of candy (which also looked relatively new, considering), a piece of paper, and a keychain of what resembled Miffy—now an off-white color.
It was pure overwhelming gratitude, white instead of red, that you saw making you lunge at him, caught by his arms around your lower back; a hug of the decade, no century, lingering a smile on your face so bright it'd probably last the rest of the night at least.
He was taken aback, hesitant to hold you tighter. Still, you squeezed, and it seemed like you wanted it. You literally started it, but regardless he felt like this was a dream. One he would be happy not waking from, as long as you were there in every moment of it, of course.
You never defined what you were, or what happened a couple days ago on the dingy floor of a gas station in the middle of nowhere, Japan. Maybe it was the heightened emotions. Maybe it was primal instincts. Maybe it was pure selfishness, or preservation, or something completely different.
But you haven’t spoken of it since, continuing old habits like they die hard or something.
You wish you had Google to ask: How do you tell someone you love them before you go?
The pain that struck through you like lightning wasn’t something you’d felt in a long time… not since your mother. Watching her get lowered into the ground was the worst thing you think you’d ever done—tears a tsunami against your face. Fists clenched. Stomach turning with guilt.
“Yu—“ It was ghastly, and you don’t know what overcame you, but as you threw off your bag, charging, blade so far forward you probably should’ve been off balance, rage overtook you. You only saw one thing: a life alone.
It was like a slideshow of everything you could’ve had played behind your eyelids; A compound with fences so high they bordered the clouds. Watching the sun dip below the edge of what the eye could see. Maybe you’d even find more people one day and have a stupid flower garden. You’d get to sleep in Yuma’s arms every night and wake up smiling. There would be a purpose for your existence and contentment would fog up your judgement.
You'd let it because nothing mattered if he was there. There was no need for a cure, to go back to life that left you feeling unfulfilled.
Wishful dreaming, perhaps. Complacency… naivety. You’d gotten so comfortable over the last couple of months that you’d forgotten what was real. What was right in front of you.
It went fast, the slash of your blade against tough skin—scaled like a reptile but still penetrable. They weren’t human, you had to remind yourself, but under certain lighting, they could’ve been. It made your stomach churn. Or maybe it was the adrenaline that caused such a reaction, raw strength fueled by the ache in your heart.
You couldn’t save her, save anyone, and you’ve never forgiven yourself for that.
It took everything within you to not yell, scream out all your frustrations, but if he was going down, so were you.
Three years you’d felt empty—and before that, the same—silently scouring the island for answers, for people, for anything left. And now that you’d had the opportunity to hear your own voice again, after forgetting what it even sounded like, to regain some sort of warmth you’d lost, you couldn’t go back.
You’d die either way.
The monster fell with a thud, and for a moment you were prideful, until it was fear that sunk in. You dropped the sword, circling the scene quickly, but you ignored the dizziness. You stopped only when your eyes fell upon Yuma, splayed on the ground as he clutched at his stomach. You rushed to his side, scraping your knees against the gravel as you got down on his level. Warm pooled under your hands, which pressed over him automatically, as your eyes blurred over. Tears fell freely, and even if you wanted to stop—who are you kidding, you couldn’t even gather a thought long enough to think of that possibility.
You were cracking. The bravery and confidence you presented opening like curtains during a play. You were see-through, emotions laid on the table for everyone to pick through.
And that used to be your biggest fear. But now it was this. Watching helplessly, hopelessly. Losing him.
You pressed harder, shaking your brain-fog as far away as you could get it. You didn’t know what to say, stomach bile choking you, what would you even tell him?
It didn’t matter, he looked past you like you were a ghost anyways.
“Look,” He barely whispered, voice cracking.
Yuma raised one of his hands, centimeters from his torso, turning his palm up. You saw small flakes land and disappear immediately against the crimson. “It’s snowing today. It must really be Christmas…”
You swallowed hard, wiping the snot and tears from your face and trying to pull yourself together. The mess didn’t matter, the blood was just another substance. You didn’t care about how it rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the salty-water in your eyes.
You didn’t care.
“It’s okay, yn.”
“N-no.” You pleaded, dread filling every crevice of your soul. “This can’t be hap—no,” You tried all you could to get him to his feet, wrapping your arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder, huffing out shallow breaths. But you couldn’t get him to move, too weak to pick him up like you know he’d do if the roles were reversed. He’d get you to safety. Whatever it took. You’d be okay. So why couldn’t you extend the same fate?
His arms wrapped around you, not in an attempt to help, but only as a gesture… a goodbye. You knew it was, though you ignored it. Ignored him whispering nonsense in your ear, heartbeat too loud, he could tell you later.
Yeah, he could tell you later…
He’d tell you after all this was over. As he’s holding you close, just like this, arms around you. He’d tell you all the things he never has, and that everything was going to be okay. And he’d tell you every day after that too.
But, you were never much of an idiot, you said it yourself. Optimism wasn’t your role to fulfill, it was his. And right now it felt like sand through your hands. The hourglass was almost empty—no, completely shattered on the floor, your heart in a pile with it.
“It’ll be okay,”
But nothing would be okay if he wasn’t forever by your side. How could you even believe that, much less make him. His grip loosened, and it felt like being dropped from the top floor of a skyscraper. “I lo—“
Like the setting sun, you’re beautiful. The hues of oranges, pinks, and reds, against blue skies. Thank you for showing me that even after life has ended, I can still look forward to another day. As long as that day is with you, of course.
I thought I loved you in high school, but as I’ve grown to understand I never loved you then. I just admired you from afar every day, infatuated with the girl who was perfect. You had it all put together, your puzzle was always seemingly complete. And, I had it figured out, at graduation I was going to tell you all about how much I loved your smile, your lingering scent in the halls, how the roses in the courtyard reminded me of you. I was going to say everything I’d ever wanted to you that day. And I imagined the life we’d have together after. Everything you ever wanted, I’d give it to you. But, reality is, I probably would’ve let you go to Keio University without ever uttering a single word to you. You were like an unreachable deity I worshiped, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Maybe that’s what devotion is in hindsight.
You might not need me, but I need you. So don’t stop walking in front of me, okay?
You’re the last frost of winter before spring. The bumblebees on a hot day. The breeze through an open window. You reminded me that home doesn’t have to be a place, and that hope doesn’t have to be lost. You’re so much more than what you think you are, capable of everything I’m not. You’ll always be something to me, yn, everything to me. So, thank you. You taught me over these years, and now months, that love consumes you, debilitates you, suffocates you, destroys you. And in every life, I’d let it, as long as it’s because of you. I’ll be counting the days until next Christmas.
I love you, Yuma.
You grasped the pen in your hand tighter, writing a single sentence at the end of the paper—the note—before folding it up and putting it back in the poorly wrapped box.
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, I love you.
copyright loserlvrss 2026 rights reserved do not copy or translate | this was not proofread saur im sorry but im just a girl @1009high @kangtaehyunzzz @slytherinshua
when I say, I screamed when I woke up this morning, I wouldn't be lying because seeing this first thing after waking up really felt like christmas 🥹🥹
I loved this fic SO MUCH. yearner yuma + dystopian world + heart wrenching angst + a sprinkle of smut (yum) is literally the formula to my heart. I don't know how to express how much I loved this 🫠
I think it was the build up (the plot, perse) that made the small smut section work so well! It didn't need to be overstated to leave an impact. This goes to show porn with plot is superior in every way.
And the ending... THE ENDING. 🤧🤧 I live and breathe angst. I like getting my heart stomped on at least four times a week. I consider crying to myself in bed a good night's sleep. And I can say, with certainty, that ending broke me in more ways than one. Felt like drugs to my brain, I swear. I knew it was coming and it still hit me like a freight train.
Lastly, thank you so much for writing this! I had been excited for this event ever since it was announced and had been waiting for my secret santa to post since Christmas. And I can definitely say, the wait paid off! 🤧
It's january now but I hope you had a great holiday!! 🫶
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run -i "sparks"
> displaying file metadata...
tags; fluff, comfort, established relationship, kinda(?) descriptive make-out session, new year's with juju <3
warnings; slightly suggestive
word count; ~1.2k words
note; made with @i05wook in mind for @lune-net 's secret santa gift exchange! merry christmas and happy new year! (and i hope the fic is to your liking)
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "sparks"
> file loaded, enjoy!
The clicking of the keys under your fingers was the only thing audible. Your eyes were focused on the screen, determined to finish up a writing project. You would periodically use one of your fingers to push the glasses that sat on the bridge of your nose from sliding down. Occasionally you would straighten your back and stretch your neck. There was only a desk lamp and a small light bulb on the other side of the room that was on— both gave off a warm, orangey tone.
The sky outside was dark, little to no stars were visible. You could sometimes hear the cheering of college students but it hadn't bothered you too much.
Then out of nowhere, you heard explosions go off. One after another, the distant pops of sound did not falter. Turning towards the window, you notice that the sound was coming from fireworks being set off. The bright surges of color looked to be far away from where you were standing, but the sounds still stretched far and reached your ears.
As you were beginning to relax and sat back down to continue your work, you felt something on your shoulder, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you.
"Happy new year, baby." Euijoo's voice was soft and soothing. You felt the vibrations from his words travel down your spine and resonate all through your body. You slowly slid your fingers in between his, intertwining them while his palms stay placed snugly on either side of your waist. Your breathing slowed but your heartbeat sped up, your toes curled but your shoulders relaxed.
You turned to face him as he pulled back to give you room. As your body turned towards him, you felt his arms slowly circle around your body, finding their resting place on your back. He was kneeling on the floor next to your chair so when you faced him, he allowed his thighs to relax and sunk a little lower— enough for you to hold his head in your lap. You placed one of your hands on the side of his neck and the other on his shoulder. Slowly, you drifted the hand on his neck along his jawline. He was so beautiful, you couldn't stop staring into his round brown orbs, how his hair fell perfectly across his forehead and around his ears, how his lips quivered in anticipation of your next action. You brought yourself closer to him, making sure to take your time with it. You were so close to him you felt your breaths on each other. Dipping in, you placed your lips on his, merely giving him a light peck before pulling away.
Euijoo pouted, then raised an eyebrow and said, "Two and a half years and you're still teasing me?" You chuckled in response before letting Euijoo pull your body flush against his. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer. He slid one of his arms up your body and to the back of your neck, urging you to kiss him deeper. His hand worked at slowly rubbing circles in the bottom of your hairline while your hands extended over his shoulder and around his neck. His lips tugged on yours as much as yours tugged on his. Bringing one of your hands to the back of his head, your fingers swam through his soft brown locks, pulling on them ever so slightly.
Everything you did only made Euijoo want you more. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and found access mere seconds later. You let him take his time traversing the inner corners of your mouth, enjoying the feeling of his tongue against your own. Your tongues worked together in harmony, neither wanting to stop. Euijoo's hand gripped on you even tighter, causing you to let out a quick gasp. In response, you tugged on his hair harder and heard him whimper softly into you.
Both of you pulled away, a thin thread of saliva stretching across the distance between your lips. You stared into each other's half-lidded eyes. You smiled and inched closer to his ear, whispering, "Happy new year, Juju," into his ear.
He slid his palm to the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek. His eyes panned all across your face, landing on your eyes. "You're so..."
Pecking his palm you asked, "I'm so what, baby?"
"God, you're so perfect," Euijoo mumbled before he pulled you back in for another kiss. This time, his palm held your face still, taking in upon himself to maneuver his lips in between yours, dragging the tip of his tongue as freely as he wanted, tasting everything your lips and tongue gave him. When he pulled away again, you whined at the loss of touch.
One of his eyebrows perked up as he smirked at you, "Mhmm, is my baby already begging for more?"
His hands were warm, his lips and tongue were warm, everything about Euijoo only pulled you in, it wouldn't be long before you'd be sucked in. His gaze on you was unwavering, searing your thoughts, and engraved in your mind. He enjoyed how you looked at him with your eyes only showing of want and desire, your mouth agape. Both of you craved the other more and more as the seconds blew past, your yearning for each other becoming ever more apparent.
"Euijoo...," you mewled, attempting to pull him closer. Instead of giving in, he slid his arm under your thigh and lifted you up. You squealed in shock as you tightened your hold around his neck. He placed a gentle peck on your jaw before laying you down on your bed. Your arms held him close to you, his hair falling and almost getting in your eyes.
"You're so gorgeous," he muttered before kissing you on the forehead, "so beautiful," he pecked the tip of your nose, "so... amazing," his lips landed along your jaw, "so perfect," he stopped at your collarbone. His breath was hot against your bare skin and you felt his chest heave up and down. Looking back up at you, his brown orbs stared straight into yours once again.
"I love you," he began, "so much."
You opened your mouth to reciprocate his words but was cut off when Euijoo pressed his lips against yours. Your hand immediately made its way into his hair, pushing him to whimper even louder than before. One of his hands found its way to your thigh while the other supported his weight above you. His tongue traveled deeper than ever before, even you couldn't keep up.
"You were saying?" the smug look on his face couldn't cover up the red creeping up his cheeks and across his ears.
Chuckling, you gathered all your strength and flipped him over. "I love you so fucking much," you whispered into his ear before plunging your lips onto his.
The sound of fireworks in the distance would soon become a thing of the past as the morning sun rose in light of a new day, another day you'd spend with Euijoo by your side.
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "tag list announcement"
> file loaded...
hey folks! a little bird (luv u) whispered to me and suggested I start a tag list! esp since i rarely post it'll help remind any lovely and incredible readers when i post new work! but... I don't want to randomly tag anyone without them wanting me to so if you'd like to be added :3 please let me know!
p.s. am forever grateful to anyone who reads my work <3
tags; smut, fluff, established relationship, praise (from him), sick!yudai, reader taking care of him
warnings; oral f receiving, penetration, no protection (!), dirty talk (mixed in with talk about christmas, in case that's an ick)
word count; ~2.1k words
note; it felt criminal not to write anything for @/sinvanish ( @/lune-net admin) after she put this entire event together for us so... luv u lots mani! happy holidays!
> soro@lacedwithmsg:~$ run "relief"
> file loaded, enjoy!
"yudai, you're burning."
"it's okay I'm alright."
"no, you're not. come on, you need to change."
his shirt is drenched in sweat, sticking to his skin like a cold, wet second layer that he needs to shed soon if he doesn't want to get even more unwell.
his face is buried in his pillow, the florescent overhead lights so unbearably bright he swears that his retinas are burning.
"I brought you some tea, your favorite."
he groans but turns to look at you, despite the blinding lights carving his head open from the inside.
"can we keep the lights off? they hurt my head."
-
after taking a sip of the tea he looks at you. "I'm sorry, for getting sick."
you caress his cheek, the heat coming off it almost palpable. "you don't have to be sorry for anything, yudai."
his eyes flutter close and you feel the delicate weight of his head settle in your palms.
"before you pass out again sleepyhead, you need to change. not sure how I feel about sleeping in a puddle of yudai sweat tonight."
he slowly lifts his shirt up, arms heavy as if the forces of gravity were pulling them down twice as hard. you help him pull it over his head and toss it on the floor behind you before unfolding a clean shirt you already had prepared.
but before you could help him get it on, he puts his hand on your wrist, his grip so light you barely felt any pressure.
"can you help me get to the shower?"
"yudai I don't think you should take a shower right now. your temperature's going to be thrown way off."
he looks down at his lap, like a puppy who's been told no. "it's so hot, I think my eyeballs are melting."
"you're quite amusing when you're sick, y'know?"
but before he can ask what you meant, you stand up with purpose. "I'll cool you down, I promise. Give me five." And with that, yudai's puzzled eyes follow you out of the room.
-
maybe it was five minutes, or two, or ten, yudai couldn't keep count, but you're back. now standing next to the bed with a bucket and a couple white hand towels.
setting the bucket down carefully, you dunk one of the towel and twist out any excess water. folding it into three, you lay the wet towel over yudai's forehead.
the instant relief yudai feels finally let's him relax his shoulders and into the pillow under him.
you proceed to place more towels all over him, across his neck, shoulders, arms, and bare chest.
for once in the past two grueling days yudai's had to endure alone, he felt okay. the ringing pain in his temples calmed to a dull pressure, his skin that was constantly hot cooled to a comfortable temperature, and most of all his mind finally stopped its endless running.
"thank you."
you kiss his, now slightly less warm, forehead in response.
"I'm sorry you have to spend christmas like this," he continues, his voice small out of fatigue but also guilt.
you sigh, "as long as I'm with you, it's a well spent christmas."
and with that, you wrap the night up, occasionally changing the towels on his body and him slowly drifting off to sleep. after you deem he has sufficiently cooled off, you crawl into bed next to him.
-
the next morning you wake to see your boyfriend sound asleep, crawled up into your side. the blanket is still pulled up over his shoulders, a decision you made last night since it proved quite difficult to put a shirt on a sleeping yudai.
he shuffles under the sheets, somehow getting even closer to you. to your surprise, his body was not radiating nearly as much heat as it was the previous night. you let out a deep breath you didn't even realize you kept.
"how are you feeling, love?"
he mumbles indiscernibly into your shoulder.
you place a soft kiss on his forehead, light enough to ensure you don't disturb his peaceful slumber. rays of light peeking through the curtains painted him in a soft, delicate glow, resembling an angel sleeping in your arms.
you carefully run your fingers through his soft locks, the tips of his brown hair glowing in the morning light.
"do you wanna get breakfast?" your voice low in his ears.
"not yet." the vibrations in his chest feel louder than his actual voice. "it's too nice right now."
despite him still recovering from his fever, he musters up enough energy and initiative to slide his hand under your shirt. his fingertips start by grazing your skin, sending chills up your spine.
"yudai…," you chuckle into his hair, "…what are you doing?"
"nothing…"
his hand crawls up your back, warm but a different kind of warm than last night. rather than being concerned, you let his warmth spread all over you.
"is this really how you want to spend christmas morning, baby?" you nuzzle into his soft locks, breathing in his scent.
"wouldn't want it any other way."
yudai's lips feel like heaven on your skin. he sleepily traces his kisses up your neck, starting from your collarbone and ending under your ear,
"so gorgeous…," he shifts his weight onto you before looking into your eyes, his broad shoulders hovering over you. "thank you for taking care of me."
you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. "of course baby," you mutter against his lips, "can't have you getting sick now." you nibble on his lower lip. "who am I gonna kiss if you're gone?"
"you make it sound like I was dying last night." he dives back into your neck, leaving soft red marks anywhere he could.
"you might as well were on the brink of death with how much you were sweating and panting." you pull on his hair a little.
"I thought you were used to me being sweaty and panting?"
you ponder in pretend thought for a moment, "I don't quite remember, care to remind me?"
"say no more."
he skillfully slides your shirt over your head and removes his own. "so beautiful…," he mutters before continuing his previous trail down your neck, across your chest, and down your stomach.
"open up, love," he whispers before kissing the supple skin of your inner thigh. his grip on your thighs tighten as he presses them open.
slowly, too slowly, he pulls your shorts down.
"yudai, get on with it," you whine, your mind already far from tame. you dig your fingers into his scalp, trying to pull him closer to your core.
"patience, love. what happened to being worried about my well being?" he blows on your exposed cunt, "looks like that sentiment's completely gone down here."
your pussy is already wet, slicked up from yudai's touch alone.
"try not to pass out while you're at it," you snap back, "or I don't know, overheat and die."
"sure, love," without warning, yudai latches onto your clit.
your body moves before your mind can and your arch off the bed, fingers tugging even harder on his hair.
he takes his time, the pain on his scalp only fueling his desire to draw out every single moan, whine, and whimper from you.
his tongue explores your folds, up and down it traveled. into your hole, twisting and flicking as if he were enjoying an ice cream cone. sucking on your clit over and over again, the sensitive bundle of nerves swollen and in need of release. every time you moaned his name, he'd groan in response, the vibrations sending jolts of electricity through your entire being.
he holds you down, your thighs nearly flat on the bed, leaving you wide open for him to devour.
his tongue works faster into your hole, his plump lips wrap around your clit and every time he sucked, you'd pull him closer. every now and then, his teeth would graze the sensitive flesh, making you arch even further into him.
you needed all of him, and he wouldn't stop until he had swallowed all of you.
when he pulls away, your hips chase after him, the loss of contact making you whimper. he pulls down his sweats just enough for his dick to slip out.
"you look so perfect like this." he runs his hand up your thigh, stopping at the curve of your waist.
you feel his warm tip, poking and prodding at your entrance. yudai drags his members up and down your soaked folds, gathering your slick and his spit. a couple slaps to your clit and you're already whining.
he prolongs it. goes back and forth between your aching hole and your swollen bundle of nerves. he smirks when you claw at his abs.
"patience, love. let me look at you like this a bit longer."
"yudai, I swear if you don't put it in right now-"
the stretch is jarring. he pushes in to the hilt, his entire dick snugly stuffed inside you.
"oh fuck- yudai," your hands haphazardly reach out for him. he takes one of your hands in his and presses and kiss to your fingers.
"yes, love?" he starts grinding into you, pushing his tip against your cervix over and over again.
he chuckles against your hand when your eyebrows furrow and your eyes roll back. his other hand grips your waist tight, pulling out further every thrust, pushing back in even harder than the last. the bed squeaks beneath you, yudai's hand the only thing grounding you while his hips work harder and harder at your core.
the sounds get wetter as his pace quickens, your entire body moving with the strength in his thrusts. he throws his head back, the way your pussy hugged him made his knees weak. your pussy suck him in deeper and deeper and yudai doesn't complain, he just ruts in your faster and harder. he stares at the way your tits bounce with each and every one of his thrusts, the way your thighs are open so deliciously wide for him.
"look at me." his voice half groan half growl. "look at me when I fuck you, love."
you peel your eyes open to see your boyfriend, hair stuck to his forehead, chest shiny from sweat, skin flushed. his glazed eyes scanning your body up and down sends you over the edge. his thrusts feel even deeper, stronger, faster than before. your thighs threaten to clench around him. his continued assault on your pussy doesn't stop, he drops your hand and starts rubbing circles on your clit.
"that's it, cum for me." his thrusts don't stop, his fingers still working tirelessly at your bundle of nerves, "cum all over my dick."
your vision goes white. your hands pull and tug at the bedsheets. your high washes over you like a wave, the heat in your stomach seeming to never end. your thighs are shaking, legs struggling to stay up and around yudai's waist.
does yudai stop? no, he chases after his own high now. pulling your legs over his shoulders, he presses all of his weight onto you, relentlessly fucking you into the mattress. your cum seeps out and only makes the sounds wetter, louder.
"you're so fucking perfect, love."
his thrusts grow stagnant, thighs shaking, before he pushes into you one last time, releasing his load into you. you feel his cum shoot into you, warm against your walls.
"fuck, yudai," you can barely speak, his every movement sending you into a spiral.
"you still there?" he chuckles when you keep your eyes closed, your chest still heaving.
"yes, just, give me a moment," you reassure him, when you finally open your eyes, he's looking at you, holding your palm against his sweaty, clammy cheek. a small smile on his lips as he looks over you like you were a goddess. he squeezes your hand, waking you up from your daze.
"are you sure you're not sick?" you ask him, eyebrow raised.
"no I think I just sweated it all out," he presses a kiss to your forehead, "thanks to you."
chills run up your spine when he slowly pulls out.
"wait here." yudai steps out of the room, leaving you sprawled out on the bed, sufficiently fucked out.
a couple moments later he comes back with a warm washcloth. he wipes away the sweat, cum, and other bodily fluids covering your inner thighs. when he falls into the sheets next to you, he throws one arm over you, pulling you close.
"merry christmas," he whispers into your ears, you could hear the small smile on his lips.
