#nct reader insert

You waited patiently for him to answer. Anyone would have thought that he didn’t hear the question, but you knew him long enough to know that he was just bidding his time. In the two years you have been his doctor, the boy has shown you more than you have gone through in your career as a criminal psychiatrist. Sitting here for an hour just waiting for him to respond is child’s play for you by now.

And you would wait longer if needed, because Park Jisung is more than just the usual clinically insane person. Convicted at the age of twenty-one, he was moved to maximum security for a string of crimes that he committed all over the country. Arson, robbery, attempted murder, blackmailing and stalking. At first look, his police records seemed to make no sense because his offenses jumped from one crime to another with no rhyme or reason. It's almost as if they were done by different people, each one with their own intent and stain of madness.

Except that's exactly how and what it is. And it was you who have discovered it all.

You knew from the first time you sat down with him that the boy was different. If there’s one thing you’ve learned in your career, it was that convicts can be easily categorised into boxes, no matter how complex they believe they are. You have the narcissists who do things for the sake of testing the waters and the immorals who commit because they get drunk from the feeling of getting away with something taboo and unlawful. Even the madness of serial killers can be tabbed if you study them closely. But Jisung was different. He was not doing things for the sake of personal twisted pleasure or lack of care for societal standards.

He was wanting to be seen.

And see, you did. It happened on your third session, the memory still clear as if it just happened yesterday. You remember watching him closely as he sauntered into the room with a gait that you haven’t seen on him before, his steps relaxed and his shoulders held with almost a slight edge of careless arrogance. When he took his usual seat, he leaned back and looked you straight in the eye with a confidence you have never observed in him. You raised your eyebrows slightly in response and he slowly smirked in amusement, the smile almost looking out of odds in his face like it didn’t belong there.

You ignored it and folded you hands on the table instead. His gaze dropped to your fingers and there was a flash of something that flickered in his eyes before he raised them back to your face.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Park?”

A soft amused scoff escaped him as if you just said a joke. Your face remained passive. Professional.

“Is there a joke I am missing?” You asked evenly. “You seem to be in a sunnier mood today.”

At this, his grin turned wider. He leaned a little bit more forward on his seat then, his elbows resting on the table. His handcuffs glimmered under the light, cold and unyielding, and yet you felt the invisible itch on your fingers to feel the emergency call button on the underside of the table. You held the urge back and kept your head high.

“Is that how I came off to you? Depressed and sulky?”

For the first time, a frown graced your forehead. There is something different about his voice and the low baritone you clearly remember from him. His tone remained the same, and yet the pitch is higher… the modulation more airy than usual. He saw the look of confusion on your face and he laughed, his head thrown back carelessly.

“Oh dear. I hate it when this happens. You know, we’re not always as anti-social as it seems.”

Your throat felt dry. He knew you caught the pronoun he just dropped and he now looked at you with an almost challenging, hungry air. You held his gaze for a bit before reaching for your pen. You needed to hold something, anything, to keep your hands from shaking.

“If you’re being so brazen, then I think we should just cut to the chase. What is it that you want to tell me?”

“Tsk, so straightforward. Don’t you have any guesses?”

“I have multiple, but I have little time.”

“And what if you can’t handle it?”

“You are not the first nut case I’ve handled and you’re certainly not going to be the last. I will do just fine.”

It might be the snark and fire in your voice, but for a moment, you saw an unknown emotion come over his face, almost transforming it in front of your eyes. His eyes, playful and amused, burned with something that made your skin prickle, before it dimmed down once more to a look of satisfaction. He leaned back once again on his seat and studied you the same way a collector would gaze down a preserved butterfly in a glass container, its wings pinned down by needles. The clock ticked loudly on the cracked wall of the room. Somewhere, another mad prisoner wailed from his cell.

He smiled. Looking back, you didn't realize that it was the signal that brought the death knell in your life.

“Let’s not be rude and make formal introductions first, shall we, princess?”

“Name is Lee Haechan. At your service.”

*******

That was two years ago.

Since then, prisoner 025 had been formally and clinically diagnosed with Dissociative Personality Disorder, a mental health condition formerly called as Multiple Personality Disorder given to patients with split or alternate personas living in one body.

In the months that followed, you came to know more about Park Jisung’s different ‘alters.' Some revealed themselves to you, like Haechan did, while others were first shared to you as stories while they waited to be more trusting of you.

First, there was Lee Haechan, 25 years old, honey-skinned and dark haired with eyes that made Jisung’s face light up with a mischievous air everytime he takes over his consciousness. He was the most forward and talkative of his alters and the personality that comes out in situations when they needed to socialize more. A proclaimed con artist, he is the persona that claims to be the mind behind the scamming cases under Jisung’s file.

Lee Mark was the second alter you met, 26 years old and the only one who can speak English. Haechan told you that Mark wears glasses and has the worst eyesight of the bunch, and also his exact opposite in terms of personality. As the oldest you have met so far, Mark is unsurprisingly the most mature of everyone, acting as the oldest brother of the group. Unlike the others, he claims to have not done any crimes. If anything, he seems to be the only one against them.

You met Huang Renjun almost half a year after Mark. The same age as Haechan, he is the first alter of Jisung that doesn’t have the same ethnicity, or so he claims. When he first introduced himself, Jisung came over to your session with a grace in movement that made him look as if he was smaller, though his personality seemed to be as sharp as a knife. Straightforward and most of the time crass, Renjun often switches with Haechan to help Jisung socialize and work as a ‘normal’ citizen. He claims to have done the arson cases filed against Jisung.

Coming after Renjun was Chenle, a young man who claims to be just a few months older than Jisung himself. He identified himself to be Chinese like Renjun, and is the most sporty and active of his alters. According to his stories, Chenle took over Jisung’s consciousness the most during their childhood years being the one closest to his age. He was, however, far from the other in terms of temperament. Cheerful and quick in wit, you find yourself the most at ease with him whenever he decides to show up. According to others, Chenle is also the alter that can 'copy' Jisung the best.

The last you’ve met is Na Jaemin. 25 years of age, he revealed himself to you just two months before, after you were informed that Jisung was sent to solitary confinement. The boy, who had never stirred any major trouble since he was imprisoned apparently stabbed a fellow prisoner out of nowhere and had to be isolated for a few days to calm down. You remember feeling frazzled when he first came into the room looking like death, but the moment he gave you a lopsided smile, you knew you were faced with someone you have never met before.

If you were to be truthful, you have never felt more scared of your patient until that moment.

Because while Jaemin may be playful in speech and almost childish in temperament, it's obvious that he could also be prone to sudden manic and violent bursts. He didn’t have any problem admitting to you that he was the one behind the stalking cases—even laughing at the faces of the guards who jumped him to haul him back to his cell.

That was the first and last time you met him. The encounter shook you to the point that you have considered quitting, but Mark came out one day to say that Jaemin had been confined and not allowed to take over indefinitely.

Unfortunately, that relief was also short-lived, because the moment you sat into your session today, Jisung gave you a new name that sent shivers down your spine.

Lee Jeno.

You kept your gaze steady on Jisung now even as the boy refused to look at your face. He had started to fidget, and you figured you needed to push him just a little bit more to center him.

“Do you want to tell me more about him?”

Jisung paused from his fretting momentarily before giving a small nod.

“He is 25 years old…”

The same age as Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin... That makes four of them now.

You lowered your gaze back to your notes and started scribbling. A thrum started deep in your bones, the usual mix of fear and excitement of meeting a new alter. Despite having done this a couple of times by now, the novelty of it still leaves you breathless and on edge. What new personality will you unveil this time? What will he show you? Park Jisung, in every sense of the word, is the personification of both the fragility and the wonder of the human mind.

For someone in your profession, having a patient like him is a once in a lifetime, if not an almost impossible experience.

“Black hair… Short-cropped. He is the same height as Jaemin. Muscular. Lean but strong.”

“And how does Jeno help you out?”

This time, Jisung’s pause was longer.

“Jeno is the strongest. He protects us.”

“Just like Mark does?”

He shook his head.

“No. Mark is different. He takes care of us. Jeno… does what is necessary to keep us safe.”

You stared at the boy for a heartbeat before starting to write again. You could understand what he is trying to say in between the lines. People with alters usually splinter into different personalities that each have a role to play in the host’s life. Every identity you’ve met so far has this. It’s only a matter of time before someone like ‘Jeno’ reveals himself.

The Protector.

The devil himself, if it may be.

“And why did you decide to share him with me now?” You asked with a tone gentler than usual as you continued writing. The silence stretched as your pen scratched on the paper's surface.

“It’s about time, I guess.”

Your fingers momentarily paused as you felt a chill settle at the pit of your stomach. You wanted to look up at him, but something told you not to, so you kept your eyes on the scribbles you’ve written.

“Any stories that you want to share to me about him?”

Silence. There was an infinitesimal change in the room that made your hair slowly stand on end.

“Why don’t you ask him directly?”

Your gazes clashed before you could even stop yourself.

He smiled, the gesture not meeting his eyes.

you knew i couldnt help myself i had to lay low

you never had trouble making friends, but after a while it felt like chore. mundane conversations made with strangers at school, your job, parties your best friend mark would drag you to occasionally. when you told mark you had the weekend off you knew you fucked up, he began to pled, almost getting on his knees to accompany him to this party 'the coolest people in class' were throwing was his words. you rolled your eyes saying 'i’ll think about it' that was wednesday and as friday crept closer you knew youd have to give him an answer soon.

drinking was never fun for you, always blacking out and throwing up somewhere, or worst, on someone, which mark and renjun would never let you live down. so, you became the designated driver, only when you felt like it. however, you still had fun hanging out with your friends drinking or not, mark never left you alone for too long and renjun would always dance with you when asked. you preferred seeing your friends outside of partying which was never a problem for anyone in your group, you wouldn't call yourself innocent, just someone who wanted a more calm environment.

'please come with me, it won't be fun without you' mark sat on the couch in your studio apartment. you stood opposite of him, right in front of the tv. rolling your eyes at him, he was looking around you trying to see his show playing. 'could you move?'

'could you be a little bit nicer? you're the one trying to get ME to do something' folding your arms you move to sit next to him. he sighed and threw his head up to look at the ceiling for a second, he turned off the tv and moved his body towards you. 'y/n would you please come with me to this party? I think there are a couple of people there who you would like actually…' he nudged you, 'jeno will be there, his friend is actually hosting it' you gave him a little smile at hearing your crushes name, but everyone liked jeno.

'hmm, while i don't think jeno would actually talk to me, i guess i have nothing else better to do with my time, just promise you wont leave me' you begged your best friend.

he smiled and took out his pinky finger, presenting it to you, 'i promise' you grabbed it with your own, sealing your fate for the weekend.

you hurried to get ready, opting for high-waisted jean shorts and a simple crop top, something cute to make you fit in, not to grab too much attention. mark was waiting for you on your couch, occasionally shouting out that you both needed to leave soon. finishing up your make up you told mark that you would meet him in the car. it was a deal that he would drive you both there and you would drive back, with him probably drunk and/or high. making your way downstairs and outside, saw him in the driver's seat, ready to take off. once you sat down he was already driving, 'why are we rushing? we actually have plenty of time to get there'

mark sighed, obviously nervous, “well I met these guys the other day and they seem really cool, i just don't want to blow it, you know?' you didnt 'i just want to be their friend, for all of us' you noticed how his knuckles were white gripping the steering wheel. in one of marks classes he was paired up with jeno, who was part of one of the most popular groups in the whole college, a group he wanted to be a part of, and when jeno invited him to a party he knew he couldn't fuck up his chances.

'mark, relax and just be yourself, i'm sure they'll like you. you're like the coolest person i know' you tried to reassure him. he rolled his shoulders back and loosened his grip, trying to clear his mind of anxiety, 'you know i'm nervous too' your words caught him off guard, 'the only person i'll probably know there is you, and maybe renjun if he shows up' he nodded realizing he wasn't the only one freaking out.

the car stopped outside of a little townhouse, you figured a couple of college guys lived there together, there was no way only one person could own something like that in a town so expensive. 'alright, i think this is chenle’s house' turns out only one guy did live there.

it was dark when you entered, and there was a lot of people already there. the music was alarmingly high, but if the person who lived here could afford it then they probably paid the neighbors not to mind too much for one night. you stood behind mark awkwardly, watching as he said hi’s to people you didn't know, he tried to introduce you to which you waved and gave a small introduction. that was until he found jeno along with some other guy, just the four of you in the small kitchen, it was unbearably hot and you wondered if they could see how red your cheeks were.

'y/n' mark started, you broke your gaze from the cherry cabinets and looked at your best friend, 'this is jeno and his friend haechan' you gave them a small small and wave trying to give your most confident ‘hi’. they were so cute, but your focus remained on jeno the most.

'it's nice to meet you, y/n' jeno said before his other friend could, who continued to stare at you, without another word the dark-haired male turned to your best friend, 'want to play beer pong?' you almost laughed telling him you'd come and watch later as mark turned to you for the okay.

when you came to watch them later (after asking multiple people where the table was for beer pong) you found it and mark was already chugging a beer with jeno by his side. giggling you told mark to slow down or he would be passed out within the next hour, jeno just smirked beside you, throwing his arms over the both of you as mark finished his drink. you stopped laughing as jeno yelled over the blaring music, 'we're just getting started my friends'. mark let out a laugh of his own which forced some laughter out of you, you looked from his face to across the table. you remembered him as jeno's friend, haechan, staring at you with pointed eyes and a thin lip, no hints of laughter.

'here drink this' mark said handing you a red cup with clear liquor swirling around, it smelled like alcohol and you grimaced but took it anyways, 'trust me, there's barely any vodka in there, it will help you wind down a little' annoyed by his statement you took a sip and closed your eyes, trying to keep it all down. he walked away to where jeno was, now sitting with a big group.

'not tasty enough? or would you prefer the wine worth hundreds of dollars we save only for goody-goody’s like you?' you turned at the unexpectant guest, raising your eyebrows at the comment. breath hitching in your throat finding jeno's friend, haechan, standing before you.

'excuse me?' you almost spit out the second sip you'd taken, not from the bitter taste but the way he spoke.

'you heard me, you don't have to drink it if you think you are too good for it' he lifted up his eyebrow in question, giving you a slight smirk.

his behavior confused you, but deciding to play along, 'it could be worse, but could be better' you said putting down the cup.

before you could leave, another man entered the room right behind haechan, he slapped his back, making the shorter man jump, 'sorry, he's an asshole'

you smiled in amusement and watched haechan turn to argue with the other boy, you left the room to find mark. you asked if he was ready to leave but he said something about the party just starting, rolling your eyes you asked if he could at least dance with you. he reluctantly agreed, getting up from the couch, he took your hand and led you to the dance floor. you had tried to get jeno's attention by sneaking looks at him, but obviously was a bad plan as he never took notice of your existence even in such a small place. you looked back at mark and to your surprise he wasn't there anymore but haechan, you stood ready to get away from him. he took your arm in his hand, “don't leave, let's dance” you hesitated, but to not make things awkward you agreed. trying to move along with the beat you felt him against you, getting closer. feeling his hot breath on your ear you shuddered, 'staring at jeno isn't going to make him want you… as if he would ever want anyone like you' turning towards him, he stared down at you like dry grass burning from the sun, you could tell something was up. before you could say anything else he grabbed your hips and turned so your back was now touching his front, he moved you along to the music. 'you think you're so innocent' he whispered, 'you should come upstairs with me, i can make you forget all about jeno' so that's what it was, you came to the conclusion that he was acting like this because he liked you(?) and was jealous. the puzzle was hard to put together in your mind, but before you could think another thought about it, the brown-haired boy was tugging you upstairs to an empty room.

it was dark and only the moonlight shone through the window, illuminating only small parts on his face. you noticed some moles and if the circumstances were different you'd comment on how cute they were. caught by surprise in a split second his lips were on yours, kissing you feverishly like his life depended on it, you tried to keep up with the speed, kissing him back almost instantly. he would move down to your neck and bite slightly making you gasp and moan, just as he said, making you forget all about jeno. you watched as his hand slid down your pants and into your underwear, you gasped as he played with you. suddenly embarrassed you hid your face in the crook of his neck, giving him little butterfly kisses as you tried to hold back your moans. 'do you like that?' he huffed in your ear, not stopping his movements. you nodded, whimpering as you tried to reach your high, 'use your words bitch' he hissed going slower to try and make you suffer.

'i like it' you muttered, he went back to his steady pace, going faster when he noticed your legs shaking a little, a couple seconds later you came on his fingers, coming down from your high you sighed and tried to catch your breath. he took his hand out of your pants and held his fingers in front of your face 'suck' he demanded.

'will you call me tomorrow?' you blurted, maybe he did like you and this was just his crazy way of getting your attention.

'no, now suck' he imposed. reluntantly you took his fingers in your mouth, cleaning yourself off of him. after you were done, he stood getting ready to leave you in the room, before opening the door he turned to you still sitting on the bed, 'i'll ask mark for your number'

he didn't call you the next day or the next week, you'd occasionally see him around campus, with his friend group, and sometimes even with mark. you didn't tell mark about what happened between the two of you at the party out of pure embarrassment. mark doesn't even remember leaving you on the dance floor, to begin with. you wanted to forget about haechan, and let him go, but there was something about that night the way he made you feel, uneasy but grounded at the same time. It was a feeling someone else would call you insane if you ever tried to explain it out loud.

just as you thought you were over it, a random text came through your phone on a lonely saturday night reading: 'it's haechan, wanna come over?' you knew you didn't have to go but you did anyways. getting in your car you clicked his address on your phone and drove straight to his apartment. he buzzed you into the building and you made your way upstairs, opting only to dress in sweats and a matching hoodie. he opened the door with a smile, something you weren't really used to seeing yet, but devilishly handsome none-the-less. he led you to his bedroom, a modest size. you moved to the end of the bed, playing with the strings on your hoodie, the air now becoming awkward. you felt a dip next to you and turned towards him, he leaned in for a kiss, much like the night a week ago. you silently complied, kissing him slowly.

he stopped halfway, 'why are you holding back? come on y/n don't act all innocent now, you were the one who asked me to text you,' you winced, he was right.

you faltered, trying not to look him in the eyes, 'i've never done anything like this before, like um… sex' the room felt big and you got smaller under his stare.

he let out a lifeless laugh, 'i'm going to ruin you' he said more to himself. the night ended with you in bed with him, nothing going further than foreplay as you told him you weren't ready yet, but he was willing to wait. haechan wanted to break your innocence, it became a mission to break your facade of someone who acted like they were too good for everyone around them, he knew that deep down you were no better than him.

'i like you y/n, but we can't be seen out together in public, you know mark is a part of our friend group somewhat, and if he finds out about us, i don't think he would like that too much, you know since he's your best friend and all' haechan explained as to why you couldn't tell anyone about your relationship, no way was he being sincere but you didn't have to know that.

you blushed 'I like you too, haechan' you took a mental note when your words made him smile, which just set your heart ablaze. 'yeah, i don't think mark would be too happy about us right now, maybe we should wait a while before we tell him' haechan smiled, getting you right where he wanted.

after a while, you left and went back home, giddy and feeling nothing but joy in your heart. a couple of nights a week it would be the same routine, haechan would call you to come over and you would end up in the same place, under him and in his bed. there was a handful of times you would go out to eat ramen at some random convenience stores outside of town, you never questioned him when he didn't hold your hand even when no one was around. sometimes he was sweet, cuddling into you in bed after an intimate moment or when he asked you if you wanted to stay and watch a movie. other times you'd get done in bed and he'd bluntly ask when you were leaving, you figured he was probably tired.

it didn't help that at times when you and mark would hang out with his new friend group, haechan would act like he never even knew you, but ‘it was for the best’ reminding yourself. it almost slipped to everyone while playing video games together and jeno was on your team, you both had gotten too invested in the game. hugging when you won and arms around you for comfort when you lost, to haehcan jeno was getting way too close for comfort. he continuously asked to switch partners, you thought it was cute, but it just made everyone confused as to why haechan wanted you as a partner so bad. your smile faltered when he answered 'she's terrible! obviously needs someone else to help her win, i think it should be me' his comment pushed a pin through your heart, so you didn't answer his call that night, but of course, you couldn't help yourself. after he texted continuously, trying to tell you it was the best way to get the others off of your backs and not to suspect anything, you agreed to go see him.

after months of back and forth with haechan, you were content with where you were with him. you were sitting in the library on campus one night, there were not a lot of students around, but it was a smaller school to begin with so at any given point there was never really anyone around. never being one to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, but when haechan's name was said multiple times between two girls sitting nearby, you just had to listen in. you couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but you stood up when you heard his name and the other girl squealing slightly when the other said 'texted'. before you could even think about it you walked to the end of their table, 'why are you texting my boyfriend?'

the girls were surprised by their sudden interruption of the conversation, turning to you with their mouths slightly agape. 'haechan? girlfriend? this can't be the same haechan we're talking about' she laughed. her statement just made you furious, you knew you were quiet with haechan but you trusted he wasn't talking to other girls. 'girl, stand up, he’ll fuck anything with two legs' the other girl said before turning back to speak with the other, ignoring you entirely. before leaving the second girl called out to you, 'sorry, he's an asshole!' you stomped outside, weight pulling you down as you heard that before, you called haechan with a heavy heart, explaining that you needed to come over.

once you made it to his place you started explaining 'that girls were talking about texting you' and that 'you trusted he would never do that'. he sighed, trying to get you to calm down, haechan guided you to sit on the couch in his living room, explaining slowly, 'first of all, we are not dating, i never asked you to be my girlfriend, second, i have not texted any other girls, they are probably just jealous, but you can not just go around and call us that to strangers!' he walked around in circles, pulling at his brown hair in frustration. you felt your heart break at his confession, how could you forget that he never asked you to be his girlfriend, so why would you go around and call him your boyfriend? you felt embarrassment and stupidity wash over you, it felt gross and sticky. standing up you walked to the door, he watched you take the knob in your hand, turning it, 'i understand' you left.

it was a week without haechan, and while you knew it was good for you, it felt so wrong. you hated it, trying your best to avoid him, yet he was the only thing you could think about. he tried calling you a couple times, and they would go unanswered, he texted you and everything. you ignored him as best as you could, it was until mark got involved. unbelievable, your best friend showed up at your door, saying he wanted to hang out and watch a movie and nonchalantly adding in the comment 'oh yeah, by the way, haechan asked me for you to call him'

you tried to act confused as to why, trying to get more information from mark, 'did he say why?'

mark looked just as confused as you did, 'no but he said it was important, he was kind of sad too, did you do anything to him?'

you scoffed, 'no i didnt, but i guess i should call him if it's that important' after mark left later that night you decided it would be now or never. you could never help yourself with haechan, no matter how bad you wanted to get away, he always found a way to pull you back in.

he picked up on the second ring, 'let me explain' you sighed and told him to go ahead, 'i didnt mean to upset you y/n, you see, i was going to ask you to be my girlfriend and i guess those girls had heard something around campus and got jealous'

you grew suspicious, 'what do you mean ‘heard something around campus’?'

'okay well i told jeno that we had been together for a couple of months and that i was planning on asking you, and i guess he told someone else. please y/n come over tonight and let me make it up to you'

you sighed… you really shouldn't, 'fine, ill be over in 10 minutes'

got so high, couldnt help myself. i lost my halo

'now mark still doesnt know about us, so you cant go around saying anything okay?' haechan was trying to convince you, as he peppered your neck in kisses, 'are you ready tonight?' he was desperate to get you to comply finally. he had been waiting months, usually, girls give it up way earlier but you took some breaking… love as haechan hated to call it. months of work just to break your innocence for him just to get some pussy. he would admit that he had fun trying to get you to bend at his every command, but when you ignored him it just made him want you more. he just couldn't help himself. it took him a lot of thinking but after this night, he wasn't done with you yet. He was so close and he wasn't going to stop now.

you sat infront of him, nervous at his question but you nodded, 'im ready' he gave you a devilish smile in return, planning to do something absolutely crazy to seal the deal. 'good, now just relax baby, i promise i'll make you feel good' you nodded, trusting him. after a while of kissing you got down on your knees in front of him, something you had done dozens of times. now it felt different, in the back of your mind you could hear the girl's voice from a week ago, 'stand up' you stared at his crotch, the bulge waiting for you. 'are you going to suck my dick or not?' he questioned, starting to become impatient, you looked up in a panic not realizing how much lost in thought you were. you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, 'come on baby, you remember just like last time, remember how good you made me feel?' this wasn't good for you, deep down you knew it, but no matter how much he slipped the knife under your skin, you couldn't help it, and there was no going back now. looking up into his brown eyes staring down you nodded.

after he finished, he was hard again almost immediately, ready for what he worked so hard to accomplish, finally breaking your image, it was so sweet he could get high just thinking about it. the way you had defended him from cheating even when those girls were right. the fact that he never wanted to be your boyfriend but couldn't stand the fact of you leaving him, he was fucking crazy and tonight he planned something even more fucked up so he always has a tight hold on you.

you sighed as you laid on your back, waiting for haechan to get ready, feeling nervous as you watched him roll the condom over his dick. he moved to the bed finally and climbed on top of you, 'are you sure about this?' he double-checked, hoping you wouldn't back out now. the excitement almost getting to the best of him as he lined up with your entrance. you nodded and shut your eyes as he slid inside. while it hurt so bad, you felt so full. without even telling him he started to move and that's when it felt better, so euphoric. he continued to pound into you, and all you could do was moan into his shoulder, your brain feeling like mush from everything feeling, your body going through the trails of fire. 'I love you' he whispered and you could barely comprehend the words, deep down you knew he was lying but this was too good to fuck up right now, all you could do was kiss him.

you couldn't help yourself. you'd come back every time.

‘Why me though?’ You thought in exasperation, pinching the bridge of your nose causing your glasses to shift up on your face as you let out a heavy sigh. This was in no way how you wanted to spend even a portion of your winter break. What could possibly be so important that they had to come back to the school in the middle of holidays to attend, especially a day before christmas?

“So, you got that email, too.” A voice came suddenly from behind and you jumped, nearly springing yourself backwards right into the body (the firm chest, to be exact) of said voice. Ten let out an amused chuckle as you shot him a glare from over your shoulder.

“Don't you have some business to mind? More specifically Dean Lee’s?” You hissed through nearly clenched teeth, straightening yourself up as you turned to face him. His somewhat lax demeanor would've put you at ease if it weren't for the fact that he absolutely pisses you off just being near you.

“Oh, I’ve finished up my work already,” He responded at once, taking interest in picking under his nail and inspecting the cuticles rather than looking at you, “And you? Looks like you might be spending your break doing even more mundane work than usual. Although, I guess that's to be expected from our resident busy bee and little ass kisser. Tragic.” He pouted with faux sympathy, your glare only intensifying towards him.

This has always been the dynamic between you two. From the very first day you started working there when Ten had introduced himself casually then proceeded to question whether you were ‘dressed to go to church or something’ right after as he looked you up and down like you were something at the bottom of his shoe, it's been a constant back and forth of snide comments.

How you survive in a room with him, his own desk being a few feet away from you located near the back of the shared space and conveniently next to Dean Lee’s private room, you never understood.

“What's this party even for, Chittaphon? Why is this shit even mandatory? I thought he wanted all of us to enjoy our breaks…” You questioned him, figuring that since he is essentially the man’s right hand that he would know the answer.

“Well, if you really wanna know so bad…” Ten leaned forward and you took an instinctive step back only to bump right into your desk as he caged you against it with one arm out by your side. He was too close, even more so when he leaned down close to your ear to whisper into it. “Show up and find out.”

You should've known better than to ask Ten for anything. Of course he would give you a hard time just because he knew he could. “Not like I have much of a choice.” You groaned, shoving at his shoulder to get him out of your personal space. He barely moved from the action but took a step back as he rolled his eyes. “It’s one day out of the break and it's not like you have anything better to do,” He scoffed, folding his arms over his chest, “Also, you're not the only one that has to suffer, you know. Almost all of us have to be there, too.”

You let out a faint gasp and he arched his eyebrow. “Wait, you’re gonna be there, too? Oh god, this just got so much fucking worse.” You whined to yourself while running a hand down your face, immediately feeling the heat of his stare once the comment left your mouth. You mentally pat yourself on the back for it as he finally walked off (not without saying something under his breath) and left you alone, a minor victory of getting under his skin.

You spent another hour and a half finishing up some documents and clearing your desk, packing up for the day before locking the room up and heading out. You’re glad, at the very least, that you weren't the last staff member to get out of the building. You also successfully avoided bumping into Ten again with the last encounter only slightly souring your mood until you remember getting the last word, the thought making you smile to yourself childishly.

It’s evening now and just like how the weather was this morning, it’s absolutely freezing outside. You tug your coat tighter against yourself as you sling the strap of your bag over your shoulder, fighting against the harsh wind as you make your way to your car. Walking across the parking lot as you slowly approach the designated staff member parking spaces, you notice a figure standing by their own car directly next to yours. And as you get closer, they become even more recognizable.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re finally done for today I see.” Taeyong says with a friendly smile, and you shoot him a polite one back. “Dean Lee,” You acknowledge with a nod, “Why yes I am. I was just getting ready to head home.” You added, clutching your car keys a bit and making them jingle.

Taeyong shook his head with a laugh, a huff of warm air coming out as a small cloud in the cold. “Y/N, it's been years. You know you can call me Taeyong, right? I don’t mind.” He says it so easily as if you’ve been his close friend this whole time.

You didn't mean to always be so formal with him but he was your boss after all. Standing around the same height with a lean, muscular frame and a strong, handsome face with looks that could kill, you had to admit that being around the man was a bit intimidating.

Anyone would be with how attractive he was while also holding all of the authority over everyone in the school. He never gave you the vibe that he was a power hungry asshole and you wouldn't normally judge a book by its cover but in this case (with how little you knew about him despite your few years of working under him) you couldn't help yourself.

“Right, sorry… Taeyong.” You reply to him with a nervous chuckle, his name rolling off of your tongue hesitantly despite his reassurance. He lets out another laugh at your slight awkwardness and you can't help but think how sexy it sounds.

Before he can say anything else though, you decide to ask the question that has been plaguing your mind since earlier, “Hey, about that meet—I mean the staff get-together… I was wondering what that would be about? Since it’s mandatory, I would presume it’s something important.” You decided to ask it safely rather than the accusatory ‘What the hell are we doing having a meeting between our supposed winter break’.

Taeyong mulls your words over for a few seconds, eyebrows slightly furrowed before giving you an unreadable expression. It’s neither a smile nor a frown but it makes you shift on your feet nonetheless. “I can’t go over the details unfortunately but I guarantee you it is important. You especially need to be there. So… see you then?” He says before bidding you farewell, hopping into his car before cranking it up and driving off leaving you puzzled.

‘You especially need to be there.’

What the fuck did that even mean? The words repeated over and over in your head even as you got into your own car and headed home, more stressed out than you were before the short conversation. You guessed you’d get your answer on that soon, a few days from now to be more specific. Whether you felt like you were gonna be prepared for that answer or not, you weren't sure.

✧

You spent the first couple of days of the break spending time with your family and friends or at home getting into the holiday spirit with a christmas movie and a glass of wine to fill the time or doing some last minute shopping online for yourself. Last night you had finally decided on what you wanted to wear to the staff party, leaving it out for today so you can get dressed quickly.

The email specifically asked for staff members to get a little dressed up for the occasion and you hoped you didn't overdo it or underdress. You don't meet up with a lot of your coworkers after school hours so having them see you outside of the normal business casual look is a bit daunting. Not that you care about how they see you but you did want to look your best.

Really, if it weren't so damn cold, you would've worn a nice little cocktail dress to turn a few heads but you decided warmth was the better choice to achieve especially with the temperature dropping as the sun sets and the moon rose higher in the night sky.

You wore black, thick tights with a cream colored oversized v-neck sweater, heeled black boots, a long brown coat with a plaid thick scarf around your neck. Accentuating the look with a pair of gold earrings and a gold necklace, you had given yourself a quick once over in your rear view mirror and applied a fair amount of lip gloss before exiting out of your parked car and approaching the school’s front entrance.

After getting buzzed in by security, briefly greeting Johnny and Kun as they directed you toward the auditorium with a gesture, you made your way down the hall with your heels clicking against the tiled floor.

The halls were a little too quiet for a place that was supposedly having a party and you double-checked the calendar on your phone to make sure you didn't get the date mixed up. That couldn't have been the case though since security was on campus and seemingly on standby.

You shook the feeling off as you continued around the corner, greeted by the double doors of the auditorium decorated in gold and silver streamers just a few feet away. ‘Let’s get this shit over with.’ You hyped yourself up, mentally preparing for whatever greeted you on the other side as you pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

It was mostly dark at first, nearly as silent as when you were walking through the halls just a moment ago which only added on to the eeriness. “Uh… Hello?” You called out loud and clear, hesitantly taking a step forward. Immediately the room lit up with more lighting from overhead, almost blinding with how bright it was and you let out a startled yelp as a chorus of cheering and clapping started to sound throughout the space.

With your eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, you look around to see the room filled with a lot of your coworkers as they beam at you while your body froze in place. There were balloons and confetti scattered in the air and on the auditorium floor, a sign hanging up across the room reading ‘Congratulations!’ in glittery text. Right under the sign, your eyes trail down and you see Taeyong standing under it with a big smile of his own as he gestures for you to come up towards him. You're still very confused, and very much in shock, but your feet somehow carry you to him with a mind of their own.

Now standing next to him, with Ten standing off to the side of him as well with his hands clasped behind his back and an unreadable expression on his face, your mouth finally decides to work again as you face Taeyong. “I’m not sure I’m understanding any of this right now… what are we celebrating exactly?” You asked him curiously as he gently shoved a glass flute into your hand to take. Assuming by the color and the fizz, it had to be champagne or something rather expensive. “Your promotion, Y/N.” Taeyong answered with a soft pat to your shoulder as your jaw went slack.

“My? Me? I’m being promoted?” You questioned in disbelief and Taeyong chuckled. “Yes, you. That's what all of this was for. Sorry I had to keep it a secret but surprise!” He replied, taking a small sip of his glass as more cheering came from the rest of the staff members and you let the words sink in. You weren't expecting this at all, let alone a whole party being thrown in your honor.

Despite your constant complaints throughout the years of working at the school, to say you put your blood sweat and tears into this would be an understatement. So, finally finally getting some kind of recognition felt overwhelmingly good. So overwhelming that you could feel your throat tighten up as your eyes slightly stung with the formation of tears.

“I don't know what to say,” You started with a smile growing on your face, swallowing the small lump in your throat before continuing, “I’m just really grateful for this opportunity, to be able to do what I’ve grown to love. Thank you so much.” You said with a shy nod of your head towards Taeyong.

“You deserve it for all of your dedication. And no need to thank me, I'm happy Ten brought it to my attention so I could easily set this in motion for you. Again, congrats!” Taeyong said before walking off to mingle with the other staff members leaving you with another surprising detail. With him out of the way, you were now facing Ten who seemed to be looking in any direction but your own. Before you could speak up however, he fully turned away and started walking off towards the double doors.

You were going to call out to him, stepping in his direction to follow, but you were immediately stopped by coworker after coworker offering their congratulations and attempting to make small talk. Trying to be polite, you turned to face each of them to personally thank them while giving short, polite responses.

Hearing the sound of the double doors snapping shut, you looked up from the faces surrounding you and saw the one you needed to see the most right now disappear. The answer you had been looking for may have come out in an unexpected way but now, with the knowledge that you had currently, you had another question you needed an answer to.

✧

Finally slipping out from the auditorium (assuring the others you just needed some fresh air and weren't just trying to sneak out of the celebration) you started making your way to the place you could only assume Ten would be located at.

You reached the room of your shared space in haste, noticing the door already slightly ajar as you carefully pushed it open.

Your assumption had been correct.

Sitting atop his desk, a flask of alcohol in hand and in mid-swig, Ten immediately darted his eyes towards you as you stepped into the room and shut the door behind yourself.

“Coward. Why’d you run away like that?” You huffed out in irritation, making your way across the room to him with your hands on your hips. He stayed silent for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing as he took a few gulps out of the flask before letting out a sigh of annoyance.

“I knew you’d ask stupid questions.” He answered with a shrug and you scoffed loudly. Unbelievable.

“That's a lame ass excuse but that's the least questionable thing about all of this,” You take a few steps closer to him until you're nearly standing between his legs, “You talked to Taeyong about me which, in turn, got me a promotion rather than somehow getting me fired… Why? Better yet, how did that happen?”

Ten took another long swig from the flask before capping it and setting it down beside him on the desk, hopping down from his spot to now stand close in front of you. “Does it fucking matter? I made it happen and now you're getting what you wanted. You should be thanking me, really.” He said condescendingly and you will yourself to not break the intense eye contact.

“I didn't force you to talk to Taeyong or tell him whatever the hell you told him. You did that yourself, of your own accord. It’s almost like you secretly like me or something.” You retorted, noting the clench of his jaw as his mouth formed a thin line. You couldn't help but smirk, clearly striking a nerve.

“Oh my god, that's it isn't it? You don't hate me, you actually like me! All this time, all the comments and insults were just a way of you coping with your little crush on me.” You rattled on with an incredulous look, smirk only growing bigger as Ten stood silently with his jaw clenching. There was nothing that filled you up with satisfaction more than angering the king of bitchiness and ‘nonchalance’ himself.

So, you kept going.

“What are we in, elementary school? Have you not been taught that that's the weakest way to try and pick up girls?” You shook your head in disapproval, not noticing the step he has took forward, “Really, I knew you were capable of stooping this low for attention but this is just fucking pathet-”

Your words were cut off before you could continue and you made a sound of surprise as Ten gripped the back of your neck and crushed his mouth against yours harshly.

Yet another turn of events the night had brought to you that you didn't see coming.

Ten was kissing you. Or rather, he had his lips against yours as you stood there shocked for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. But what came as even more of a shock was the way your body (once your mind finally caught up to what was happening) responded by pressing up against his frame as your lips pressed into his harder.

You were kissing Ten back. You were kissing him back and you were enjoying it because fuck was there so much sexual tension between the two of you. You knew it was there, you always felt it, and you weren't blind to how good-looking Ten looked all the time. Coming to work in his collard shirts with the buttons unfastened to show a peek of the smooth bare skin on his chest, the peek of his tattoos you would catch a glimpse of when his cuffs were slightly rolled up, the way his jeans would hug him in all the right places.

And Ten had felt all of that tension, too. It was like a chord snapping inside of him in that moment as he listened to you run your mouth before deciding that he had enough. To him, this was the best possible way to get you to shut the fuck up.

Once he realized you weren't immediately backing away in disgust and even seemed to want more with how urgently you kissed him back, he decided to indulge himself. Biting and pulling at your plump bottom lip until it was tender, licking along the seam before finding his way into your mouth and mapping out the inside with his tongue. He tasted like the alcohol he had just consumed when you first stepped into the room, a slightly strong liquor taste you were sure you’d probably gag from drinking by itself but on Ten’s tongue you couldn't get enough.

He pulled back finally, allowing yourselves to breathe as he dropped his head against the junction of your shoulder and neck and trailed his lips along the skin making you shiver. “Must not hate me that much if you're letting me kiss you like that.” Ten mumbled, his other hand moving to the back of your knee as he hoisted your leg up over his hip. He stumbled back until he was pressed up against his desk, dragging you along with him. He continued to do so as he sat down on top of it again and brought you into his lap to straddle his waist.

You inhaled sharply at what you felt between his legs in the new position, subconsciously rolling your hips and earning a low groan from the man at the friction. “Yeah, no fucking way. You want this just as badly as I do.” He hissed out, his hands gripping even harder to keep you firmly against him as he pushed his hips upward to match your motions.

Even with the thick layer of your tights and the rough texture of his blue jeans, you could feel how hard he was starting to get as the outline of his dick began to fill out with every movement.

“Fuck, wait, are we-” You tense up at a particularly hard roll, “Are we really doing this here?” The question came out as a breathy moan when he bit down at your neck. Ten’s hands creeped up under your sweater to grab ahold of your waist tightly, the skin there erupting in goosebumps at his cold hands. The question left unanswered as he continued to bite and suck along your throat surely enough to leave a good mark or two with the intensity of the action.

Carding your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, you gripped tightly before tugging and pulled his head back away from your neck. A noise of protest came from his throat as he relented and you took in the hazy, half-lidded look in his eyes as his bottom lip caught between his teeth. A look of pure sinfulness as you forced him to look into your eyes.

“Ten.” You had hoped for his name to come out of your mouth as a warning, a threat even, to get him to answer. Instead, it came out as a near whine full of neediness and the corner of his lip quirked up in a smirk. “Y/N,” He purred back with a lick of his lips, “Don’t be a coward. Don't run away from me now when I’m so ready to be under you like this.”

You hated him. You hated how his words made your thighs close together instinctively, only to be obscured by Ten’s body between your legs. You hated how warm you felt, body temperature increasing with the heat starting to pool in your lower stomach just from those words slipping out his kiss-swollen lips. And boy did he have a way with words.

You couldn't help yourself, though, as the little voice of reason nagged at the back of your mind.

“This is a school, Ten–”

“We're on break.” He pointed out, thumbs rubbing circles into your hip bones firmly.

You sighed heavily, slinking more into his hold. That was true but…

“I know that–”

“Nobody’s here in this room right now except us.”

“We could still get caught–”

“Maybe. If we do, though, it’s your fault. You’re the one wasting time by talking when I could easily be fucking you by now.”

Also true. You wanted this so badly, you really didn't have the brain capacity to think logically at all. It’s not like you’ve never had a quickie before and although not all of them ended in satisfactory for both parties involved (unfortunately) you just really wanted to feel Ten inside of you if even for just a quick fuck.

If you really wanted this to happen right here and right now, you’d have to hurry.

“Stop making sense.” You muttered, scooting back a bit in his lap to reach down between your bodies. Your fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans and the zipper, his intense stare not helping in the slightest as you clumsily unbuttoned and unzipped him. He leaned back and lifted his hips slightly to give you more space as you tugged them down enough along with his boxer briefs, a curse leaving his lips once his dick sprang free and smacked against his lower stomach. “Then stop talking and fuck me.”

You could confirm now that everything about the man under you was pretty. Even his dick. Not too thick but definitely impressive in length. Trimmed, one shade lighter than the rest of his body, and currently shaded pink at the tip where precum had started to bead.

In the position you currently were in, it was rather awkward as you wrapped a hand around his length. Ten didn't seem to mind it though as the contact made his hips buck up into the ring of your fist, a small moan escaping him.

Ten’s hands that were situated at your hips had taken to supporting his weight briefly as he leaned back a little bit more before he brought one hand up to push the front of your sweater up. Just enough so he could find the waistband of your leggings, attempting to tug the material down with one finger hooked inside. It was hard and it didn't go down much before it stopped at your mid thigh but he didn't need them completely off yet. You flinched at the feeling of his fingers trailing your thigh, up to your hip bone, teasingly past your belly button until he slid lower to fully cup your panty-covered pussy.

Through the dampened lace material, he rubbed at your outer lips and ghosted along your clit with practiced ease. Like he had done this before with you, as if it were muscle memory, like he knew your body well already. That had to be true to an extent as you rolled your hips, grinding against his fingers every time he applied enough pressure to elicit a moan out of you.

They grew more once he hooked his finger into the center of the material, pulling the lace away enough to expose your hole, and proceeded to ease his middle and ring finger in without much of a warning. He figured you were wet enough with the way you were making the palm of his hand so slick with your juices. He nearly growled at being proven right.

“Thought I’d help stretch you out a little but I see there’s no need for that.” Ten rasped, sitting up so you were chest to chest as he pushed his fingers in to the knuckles and your grip around his dick tightened just a hair. It was enough to notice though and Ten curled his fingers inside of you as retaliation, the rough pads of the tips of his fingers brushing briefly against that spongy spot hidden deep inside of you.

Your whole body trembled when he did it once more before you quickly abandoned his length in favor of tugging at his hair again, a little harsher.

“W-We really don't have time. Come on…” You pant breathlessly, flexing your walls around his digits for emphasis and earning a strained curse from his lips. “So eager. That’s cute.” Ten taunted, the usual banter coming out more teasing than ever. He can't contain himself any longer either though with how his dick throbs and aches for some type of release so he eased his fingers out of you before tugging your leggings further down.

It's a brief struggle as you try and help him wiggle them down and off of you while still hovering over his lap but the second you kick the article of clothing from around your ankle, Ten grabs you by your ass and pulls you flush up against him.

“Don’t have a condom on me... Is that okay?” He questioned with an arch of his eyebrow. You think for a split second until you feel him grab ahold of his dick and brush the tip along your folds, your brain turning into mush when it snags on the entrance. “It’s fine! Please, just…” You replied with an impatient roll of your hips, sinking the head just a bit more inside of you.

This is all the permission Ten needed before he used his hands to spread your cheeks apart as he lowered you further onto his dick and the stretch of it made you lean your torso forward until your face buried into his shoulder with a muffled whine.

“Fuck,” He shifted a bit, allowing you to adjust as he wrapped an arm around your waist while keeping you spread open with one hand, “You’re really gripping me.”

He was all the way inside of you now and you felt everything as you clenched around him. You still can't believe this is happening with Ten of all people, but the throbbing you feel makes the situation that much more real. And usually you’re a stickler for wearing condoms but the thought of taking Ten raw had you throwing caution to wind. Actually getting to feel him without any barrier now felt too good.

“Is this a reward? I got you a little promotion and you give me this?” Ten asked rhetorically with a sickly sweet tone, gripping at your ass hard to make your body rise up a bit before pulling you back down onto him. “I would've been a lot nicer before.” He added, nipping and tonguing at whatever he could reach on your neck while helping you glide along his dick at a leisurely pace.

“B-Bullshit!” You half-heartedly sneered as you let yourself sink down all the way, swiveling your hips in an almost slow grind. “I think being a mean bitch is in your blood. Especially to me.” You said as you started to pick up speed, grinding harder with him deep inside of you as the fingers you carded through his hair gripped tightly making him tense up.

Ten’s eyes rolled back for a second before a large grin broke out on his face. “Oh, baby, I thought you liked me mean,” He purred low, rolling his hips upward in a languid manner as he allowed you to take most of the control, “Isn't that what got you this wet?” He questioned, his fingers that helped spread you open brushing along where the two of you were connected making you both moan out loud.

He winced as you gripped his hair somehow harder than before sending a tingle through his scalp and his spine. His breath hitched when your free hand came up to wrap around his throat giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze.

“You like it mean, too. I bet you got hard after every argument and got yourself off just dreaming of doing something like this.” You retorted shakily but your movements got braver, the grinding turning into you fully bouncing in Ten’s lap with the faint sound of skin slapping against skin filling the empty room now.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, yes,” Ten’s voice came out strained as his own thrusts started becoming more vigorous, “Fuck, it turns me on. Made me want to bend you over the desk and fill you up.” He nearly gasped when your pussy clenched around him tightly in response, bouncing even harder in his lap while the pressure around his neck and the grip on his scalp persisted. “I’ll cum in you r-right now if you let me.” He rushed out, almost whining as you faltered with a whine of your own.

You really shouldn’t. You know you shouldn't. You were already fucking him without a condom and, although you were on birth control, this was still risky as hell.

And yet your brain couldn't be more clouded than it was now, the faint desperate ‘please’ slipping out of Ten’s mouth egging you on to ride him faster as you leaned over towards his ear to whisper into it. “I dare you.”

Ten let out a string of profanities as he pulled you slightly up in his lap by your hips, halfway pulled out, before fucking up into you at a speed that left your mouth hanging open. You felt his dick starting to pulse inside of you as he pounded up relentlessly.

The sounds inside of the room were nothing short of pornographic, heavy breathing and moaning coming from the both of you. You had half a mind to remember your surroundings as well as your combined volume of noise.

That was until you heard a faint, audible creak, the all too familiar sound of the room’s door, making the two of you abruptly stop.

You shot Ten a look to make sure you weren't the only one that heard it and you realized his eyes were already looking over your shoulder with narrowed slits.

The proper response to the possibility of you being caught having sex with your coworker in your workplace (even if there were no students in the building) would’ve been to scramble off the desk out of the compromising position and attempt to get some clothes on. Maybe even hide if you hadn't been caught yet and hopefully save yourself the embarrassment.

But Ten’s grip tightened around your waist before you could even think of slipping him out, keeping your body in place. “Come in. Right now.” He said out loud, the words clearly not directed to you. You gawked at him for a second and then craned your neck to the side to look over your shoulder.

For a moment, you thought maybe the door creaking had just been a figment of your imagination and no one was actually there. But after a few more seconds the door creaked open a sliver, allowing the eavesdropper to slip in before shutting the door behind them with a ‘click’.

“How long have you been listening?” Ten accused, his tone laced with something that would've made you shiver if it weren't for your body sitting still in complete surprise at who your eyes had landed on, now on this side of the door.

Taeyong wrung his hands together, the rings on his fingers shifting with the nervous movement as his eyes diverted to everywhere else in the room but the position you and Ten were in on top of the desk. “I’m sorry,” He muttered, “I didn't think… I-I just came to come look for you two and I–” He shook his head. “Sorry.”

You made another attempt to get up and Ten pinched your thigh, causing you to yelp. This made Taeyong glance over and your eyes locked for a second before he looked away with a flustered look on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You whispered in a hiss at Ten as he smoothed over your skin with his thumb. “Are you trying to get us fired?” The question came out and you realized how silly it sounded. Why wouldn't you get fired? You were literally caught fucking by your boss during your promotion celebration, one you hadn't even been able to celebrate for more than 2 hours at that.

This was an unemployment speed run. Better yet, a speed run for an arrest.

“We’re not getting fired.” Ten said matter-of-factly as he tried not to roll his eyes. As if you were the one being unreasonable right now. “Isn't that right, Taeyong?” He called out to him over your shoulder in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Of course not…” Taeyong replied and Ten smirked up at your bewildered face. “See? He just wanted to watch, that's all.” He reassured you. Like being watched by your boss while you got fucked was something normal. “You two… do this often or something?” You asked, the pieces of this confusing puzzle slowly falling into place and giving you some type of clarity.

“Not often. Not too many people get to see that side of him,” Ten answered thoughtfully before giving your sides a squeeze, “Enough talking, though. You wanna keep going or did the little pervert ruin it?” He asked and you shot a look over your shoulder at Taeyong again, taking in his timid appearance. This was different from how you normally saw the man, intimidating in appearance and usually keeping a calm demeanor.

You’d be lying if you said it didn't interest and spike something within you.

“Is he gonna join?” You asked, starting to roll your hips slowly as Ten grunted and squeezed at your sides harder. “If you want him to, he can.” He answered, nails starting to dig into your soft flesh. You rested your forehead against his shoulder with a sigh, nodding in agreement before Ten directed his attention to Taeyong. “Hey, pervert, come here.”

Taeyong flinched at the name, the flush on his face deepening from being called out. Nonetheless, he slowly made his way across the room until he stood a little distance from the scene in front of him. Ten shot him a glare and his body stiffened.

“Thanks to your interruption, we didn't get to finish. So, I think a little punishment is needed, Hm?” Ten hummed, hands running up and down your thighs as you lightly trembled at the sensation. “Take it out.” He ordered and the next thing you could hear was the sound of a belt unfastening and the rustling of pants. You heard Taeyong groan softly and you clenched around Ten at the noise.

“Now jerk yourself off and try not to cum on yourself while you watch. Don’t stop until I’m done filling her up like how I was supposed to be doing. Got it?” Ten instructed, starting to lean back onto the desk again as he began grinding into you.

Taeyong whimpered in response but he must've gave Ten a nod of his head in understanding because he started up his pace from before, gradually fucking up into your pussy with more energy.

Your eyes found Taeyong’s again, wanting to watch the man with peak curiosity as you rode Ten. His dick was more flushed than his face, an angry reddened color on the tip as he stroked himself to full hardness. He had barely started and he already looked dazed and fucked out of his mind, it made you start to bounce on Ten’s dick faster.

“Getting off to this too?” Ten teased and you bit down on your lip hard as he delivered a slap onto one of your ass cheeks. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn't expecting this to happen. I’m glad you’re into it, though.” He said, another slap coming down onto your other cheek making you moan.

A whine could be heard from Taeyong and you gave him an intense look, his hand stuttering in its movement. “Don’t tell me you're gonna cum already?” You asked mockingly and the hand around his dick stopped briefly to squeeze at the base.

“I’m trying.” He sounds breathless when he responds back, a little pathetic if you’re being honest. It only makes you want to see him crumble more.

“Try harder. Or you're not gonna cum at all.” You threatened, feeling braver with every passing minute. You really don't know what's possessing you. Maybe it's the little position of power you seemed to have fallen into that makes you say, “Why don't you come over here and help?”

And he doesn't hesitate. Taeyong immediately comes up behind you, pressing his chest to your back and essentially pinning his erection between your bodies. His hand snakes around to the front of your body where you and Ten are still connected and he gathers enough slick before rubbing circles onto your clit.

It’s like a chain reaction once his fingers press down onto your sensitive bud. You feel like the air has been punched out of you as your walls contract around Ten in a vice grip, in turn causing him to thrust into you harder and faster. You feel the coil in the lower part of your stomach wound up tightly as you were approaching your release.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Ten groaned out with furrowed eyebrows, likely teetering right on the edge of his own release as he desperately chased it. He finally tipped over when you wrapped your hand around his throat and tightened, a chorus of curses and moans and ‘just like that’ spilling from his lips as he came deep inside of you.

Feeling the warmth pooling into you paired with the fingers still rubbing at your clit and the hard length pressed between your ass, subtly grinding into it, it was only a matter of time before the coil in you snapped. Your walls spasmed around Ten as you cried out and followed him in releasing, the glide becoming wetter as you fucked yourself through your orgasm.

Both of your bodies trembled from slight overstimulation and once you both started coming down from your highs and stopped your movements completely, you lifted yourself to slip him out of you and felt the first trickle of Ten’s cum dribble out of your pussy.

Taeyong stopped grinding against you and held the base of his dick again so he wouldn't cum on himself but you promptly grabbed at his wrist on his free hand to bring him closer. Ten watched and let out a scoff. “How nice. Looks like you're getting a reward now.”

Blinking profusely, Taeyong looked between your body then up at your face and then at Ten’s. “I-I… Please. Can I?” He questioned in a strained, pleading voice and you simply tugged on his wrist again until he prodded at your entrance with his tip.

“Make it quick.”

✧

It’s a bit awkward.

No. It’s very fucking awkward now.

It had been an hour or so after that happened and the three of you went back to the auditorium as if absolutely nothing happened.

You didn't say much as you got yourself together nor when you made it back to continue the party. You half expected them to act as if that whole thing didn't happen and just never talk about it again. Maybe you were hoping that's what would happen if that would save you from the awkwardness you felt.

But it seemed like tonight was just not gonna go how you expected to at all.

You can't help but shift on both feet as you and Ten wait outside of the school’s parking lot for Taeyong. Once he concluded the celebration and everyone started heading out to leave, he caught you before you could sneak away and asked to talk once everyone had left. A sense of dread crawled up your spine and made a home within your chest as you started to think about the worst possible outcomes.

“You look like you're about to piss yourself.” Ten snickered, hand stuffed into his coat pockets casually. If looks could kill, you would be sure to take him out quickly with the glare you gave him. “He already said you're not getting fired. Stop worrying.” He pointed out as he shook some of the hair falling into his eyes’ view.

That was easier said than done, you were sure you would pass out from overthinking if the man didn't hurry up and say what he needed to say.

And as if speaking him into existence, Taeyong exited out the front door entrance before making his way through the parking lot to where you and Ten had stood waiting.

He gave a silent nod in greeting and you nodded back, unsure of what the fuck to do, while Ten just stared emotionlessly. “Look,” Taeyong sighed, his voice calm and even and nothing like the submissive whiny man who was wrapped around your finger just a few hours ago, “You can never do that here at the school again. Ever.” He said firmly, eyes shifting between the two of you.

“We.” Ten corrected, smirking smugly when Taeyong is unable to retort back and begins stuttering as his face reddens. You decide to cut in before Ten says anything else. “You’re right. We won't do that again here, I promise. We’re really sorry.” You said quickly with a tight smile. Ten opened his mouth to say something but you jabbed him in the rib with your elbow making him wince.

“Yeah, sure,” He said through gritted teeth, rubbing at his side with a huff, “So, does that mean we can do this again outside of the school?” Ten asked, earning a look from both you and Taeyong. One look of shock and the other something akin to murderous.

“That’s not what he meant at all-”

“-Would you be okay with that?”

…Huh?

You looked over at Taeyong with a tilt of your head. “You want to do this again?” You asked him, not entirely convinced you heard him correctly. But he looked away with a deepening blush that reached his ears only confirming what you had heard. “I’m not opposed to it… I’m pretty sure we all enjoyed what we did. We just can’t do that here.” He said, stressing the last part again.

It made sense, he still was your boss at the end of the day and it was pretty risky to do it where you could've easily gotten walked in on. And you weren't too keen on getting yourself in trouble after only just getting promoted. “Alright… We can talk more about this after Christmas?” You questioned, being met with immediate agreement.

You exchanged numbers to keep in touch, something you couldn't help but chuckle at since this would be the first time having any of these men’s numbers after all these years, before Taeyong headed off towards his car to leave first.

“God, I’m really two for two. A promotion and dick. You kinda owe me.” Ten giggled, walking alongside you as he walked you to your car. A little act of kindness you couldn't help but find cute despite the shit coming out of his mouth. He moved out of the way before your elbow could connect with his ribs again, cursing at him as you let a little smile grace your features.

How this new dynamic would play out between the three of you, you would have to just wait and see how things would turn out. But just like Christmas and the New Year approaching, you couldn't help but anticipate.

He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the edge of the bed, watching the sunrise just as you are. He jumps only slightly when your fingers brush through the top of his hair, but he relaxes back into your touch.

“Good morning.” His voice sounds rough from lack of use. “I don’t think I’ve seen a sunrise like this since I was alive.”

You slide over to lay at the edge of the bed, your head right beside his. “I miss sunrises. Hell City makes me miss even the rain, the snow, anything other than just, like the perpetual duskiness.” You could paint sunrises in your apartment, you suppose, like you’d done with the night sky. “I miss waking up on winter mornings, the inside of my blankets all nice and cozy while I know the world outside is too cold. I miss the weather, the passing hours of the day.”

“That’s immortality for you,” Mark sighs. “It all just fades away into a blur where day meets night, where everything just kind of averages out, unchanging.” He turns his head, and his mouth is so close to yours that you could almost give in to that urge again. The same one you’d felt last night to kiss him. 

But then you think of Yuta and Ten, hidden away somewhere in the universe, hopefully close by. You think of WinWin sleeping soundly behind you, his fingertips just barely in contact with your lower back. And you realize you can’t kiss Mark, not here or now. 

The sunrise kisses his lips instead. Mark rolls onto his knees and then stands. The gentle light of the sun lays over his skin, and you slip over onto your back again, looking up at him and looking for anything to say to change the subject. “Did you find anything in all of your explorations of the House last night?”

Mark shakes his head. “I saw more of the Watchers. They live up to their names. Watching me walk the halls, I swear half of them wanted to lock me up in chains and throw me in some prison.” He shivers, moving back to lean against the window sill. “There are so many damn rooms in this place, I don’t think it’s even possible for us to know where to look for anything unless we spend an eon here. I found the entrance hall again, though. I don’t know why the Watcher that brought us in brought us the way up here that he did. There’s literally a staircase right at the bottom of that big spiral one that brings us straight to the hallway that runs along the front of the House.”

“Maybe the house rearranges itself,” WinWin mumbles, his voice groggy with sleep even as his eyes are still closed. “Look, the sun’s rising, which means you’re both talking way too much for this early in the morning.”

Mark laughs. “What do you mean the house rearranges itself?” 

WinWin lifts his head from the pillow to look over at the vampire outlined in sunlight. “I mean, like, maybe he brought us here in the most direct way last night, but the house rearranged between then and when you went out there. Maybe it’s constantly shifting and reworking itself into new pathways. Or maybe it’s designed specifically to make it difficult for people like us to sneak around and learn the secrets the Watchers are trying so hard to hide. Didn’t you hear those sounds last night on the way up here?” 

You think back to the distant clinking and clanging you’d heard the previous day as the Watcher led you to these rooms. Maybe that was the sound of the house hiding secrets out of sight. “He might be onto something,” you say, flipping over onto your belly, but propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at WinWin. “Maybe we should talk to that Renjun guy. He said yesterday that he would help us with anything we needed, show us anywhere in the House.”

Mark makes a derisive snort. WinWin rolls his eyes. 

“What?” You ask.

Both of them exchange a look, but it’s WinWin that speaks up first. “Do you really think we can trust him?”

“I don’t see why not?” You sit up. “He seems friendly.”

“So do priests and pretty-boy exorcists,” WinWin spits out, sitting up as well. “But you learned your lesson there, didn’t you, princess? Haven’t you ever thought that you trust too easily?”

“I trusted you, didn’t I?” You push out of bed, anger firing your words. “Even when Ten and Yuta hated you, I trusted you. But maybe that was a mistake.” 

A look of hurt shoots across WinWin’s face. Mark reaches for you, but you brush right by him. 

“Where are you going?” WinWin asks when you walk out of the bedroom. You hear the sound of sheets being thrown off, the bed creaking as he moves to follow you. You hear Mark’s voice, the quiet exchange of words. 

You walk straight out of the common room as well, out into the House. You don’t wait for either of them to catch up to you, you just start down the long spiral of the stairs. Rain lashes the windows on the first curve of the stairs, but the windows on the landing the floor beneath your rooms look out on a calm sunny river in the middle of a city. Cars buzz by on the street below, trees are in blossom. You wonder if you were to press your ear to the glass, would you hear the constant noise of a living city?

Someone begins to clatter down the spiral stairs, and you set off, ducking down a nearby hallway to avoid whoever it may be. 

You find another flight of stairs down at the end of the hallway. A narrow stone set of stairs descend on a curve, sunny stained glass windows lining the wall. You wonder if these are the ones that Mark had mentioned, but when you step out at the bottom, you find yourself not in the long main hallway, but rather in what appears to be the corner of an empty ballroom. A massive, ornate mirror takes up a good majority of the wall beside you, with a pair of double doors set into the mirror itself. Enormous floor-to-ceiling windows make up the other three walls, overlooking a garden that at first-glance you believe to be the one that you’d passed through the day before, but at a closer look through the misty windows, you see that it’s a luxurious Parisian garden in full bloom. 

The glass is cool and damp with condensation beneath your touch. Small droplets glisten on the panes, shimmering with the newly captured sunlight. You walk along the wall of windows, trailing your fingers over the glass until you reach a door set seamlessly into the series of windows. There’s a patio just outside, tempting you to step out into the morning, to feel the cool damp air on your skin, to feel the sunrise as it spreads its reach over the garden. You want to know if you can smell the flowers and the grass. 

The door’s golden handle turns easily in your hand.

A hand lands on your arm, another reaches around you to press flat against the door’s edge. 

“You can’t go outside.” A light, chiming voice says from right behind you. “It’s dangerous, and you won’t be able to get back inside.”

You twist around, coming face-to-face with the silver-eyed Renjun. His gentle expression from the day before, all smiles and politeness, is sharpened now with an intense emotion that you can’t identify in that moment. You’re too close to the elfin man, and even when he takes a step away from you, you don’t get the opportunity to figure out what the look in his eye means before it’s replaced with his generic kindness. 

“Breakfast should be served soon,” he says, and he gestures towards the doors of the ballroom. “I can show you the way.”

You don’t think you truly have much of a choice. Renjun waits until you’re already ahead of him before he begins walking as well, quickly catching up with your stride. For the first time, you realize that although he’s not dressed in the hood and cloak of the Watchers, he’s also not dressed plainly like a normal non-Watcher might be. He’s wearing what could be described as a hooded tunic in a faded black color. He’s got a belt cinched around his waist, and he wears a pair of leggings underneath the tunic, which ends just above his knee. So, although he’s not wearing the whole Watcher ensemble, the hood on his tunic does draw that connection faintly.

“Are you one of them?” You ask, looking Renjun up and down. “A Watcher?”

“No.” He smiles, a little laugh escaping him. “This way.” 

He points along an arcade, a hallway that runs beside a row of arches that lead out to a courtyard housing a smooth black pool of water surrounded by ferns. The ceiling there is open to the natural sky, and you see the same foggy cloud cover as you’d passed under yesterday on your trip through the forest and the garden. 

Renjun lightly touches your elbow, prompting you to turn a corner, and steering you away from the pool and the open sky. 

You’ve forgotten that you asked him a question until Renjun begins speaking.

“I’m not one of them, not really,” he says. “My father was a Watcher, so I was raised here in the House. I’ve been taught by the Watchers, and if I chose to go through the rigorous training and monastic dedication that it takes, I could do it. But they don’t want me, and I won’t do it either. It’s a long story. One that would bore you probably.” Renjun glances sideways at you, his eyes glinting silver in the light of a window you pass by. “Your story seems much more interesting.”

What could he know of your story?

You don’t want to talk about your story right now. You’re more interested in his. “You said your father was a Watcher? I’ve read about them in an encyclopedia on the supernatural. I didn’t think being a Watcher was something that one could stop being. They’re immortal, aren’t they?” 

Renjun laughs again, the sound ringing off the walls of the hallway like a bell. “Being immortal doesn’t really mean that you can’t stop being, you know. Immortals die all the time, but for much different reasons than humans do. It won’t simply be old age or illness or just a clumsy accident that wipes an immortal out. There are other ways. And sometimes a Watcher can be removed from the order, too.”

He doesn’t say anything more on the subject, though you give him a few long moments of silence to continue. 

When he says nothing, you ask, “What do you know about my story? What makes you think mine is interesting? You grew up in a place like this, how much more interesting can it get?” As if to reinforce your words, you pass through a crossroads of hallways, and above your head is a dome of glass, shaped just so perfectly as to rain shards of rainbow down through the air and across the floor and the walls. One of the hallways is a gallery of glass, filled with marble statues, flooded with sunlight. Another is dark and lined with windows that flash with lightning. The one you’ve just left had lush carpet and rich wallpaper, thick curtains tied back over portraits that remind you of the illustrations from the encyclopedia, and you swear the eyes followed you through the flickering flame light of the wall sconces. 

Somewhere far away, the deep gonging of a belltower sounds. 

“Breakfast is starting,” Renjun says, and he sets off faster, passing through the rainbow lights, heading for the stormy corridor. As you catch up, walking quickly beside Renjun, you hear him speaking quietly, so softly that at first you think he’s speaking to himself, before you realize that the words are actually directed at you. “Your story is very interesting, I promise you that. You’ve had a full life, filled with experiences outside of these walls.” Thunder rumbles through the windows of this corridor, muffling Renjun’s next words. “I know only what I’ve heard the Watchers whispering about when they forget that I’m around. They know who you are, who your friends are, and they’ve had an eye on all of you for a very long time.” 

The thunder, the lightning, the dark and stormy hallway fade away suddenly as Renjun tugs on your sleeve, dragging you sideways through a tapestry, propelling you through a dark space, and out through another fluttering tapestry into the openness of the Banquet Hall. 

The tapestry falls back into place behind you, concealing the secret passage once again. Renjun doesn’t emerge, leaving you to face breakfast alone.

The first thing that you notice is that the Banquet Hall amplifies sound a lot more than you remember from when you sat here yesterday. The vaulted ceiling, the shiny hardwood floors, the stone fireplaces and empty walls echo back all of the quiet conversations of the gathered Watchers. 

The second thing you notice is the variety in the robes of the Watchers. The majority of them wear white robes. There are some wearing black robes. A few wear silver robes that shimmer as they move to their seats at the table. You wonder if the different colors mean anything, but you can’t really discern any difference in them. Some of the Watchers sit with their hoods still lifted, others have let theirs fall, and for the first time you see that Watchers aren’t just the grizzled old men that you’d been picturing. They vary in ages and levels of grizzledness. But they are all men.

As you step away from the tapestry, a few of them turn to look your way, eyeing you with suspicion, some with mild contempt. You hurry quickly down the length of the table, searching for Mark or WinWin, cursing Renjun for shoving you through the tapestry, and not coming out on this side with you.

“There you are!” A voice hisses, a hand snags your wrist, and you’re abruptly jerked down into an empty seat. “Even if you’re mad at me, please don’t run off. Where have you been?”

WinWin holds tight to your wrist, scooting his seat closer to you as the white-cloaked Watcher on his other side throws a look at the two of you. There’s no one else in this hall that’s not a Watcher, as far as you can tell. They’re all wearing their hooded robes, except for you. Though WinWin is still wearing the white robe that he’d been given yesterday, so perhaps, if there are any other non-Watchers here, they’re also wearing the white uniform. You hope WinWin has at least found some clothes to wear beneath his robe.

“Where’s Mark?” You ask, avoiding the question he’s posed to you. 

“He ordered room service. Didn’t want to be down here drinking a goblet full of blood while surrounded by the supernatural police.” He whispers, glancing around at the other occupants of this feast table. “Now, where were you?”

Maybe you were going to answer him, maybe just to see the pissed off look on his face when you said that you were talking to Renjun, but just then, a blanket of silence falls over the hall. The Watchers who haven’t yet found their seats quickly fill in the empty spots around the table. They straighten in their seats, all of them turning their attention to the head of the table and the incredibly wizened old man in a dingy cloak who stands hunched before the chair, holding an ancient carved staff that looks hardly more sturdy than he is.

Beneath the table, WinWin squeezes your wrist, and you hear him let out a breath. 

“That’s the High Watcher,” WinWin breathes out, his lips close to your ear. “I passed a portrait of him on my way down.”

The man’s brown skin is so wrinkled, his form so shrunken, that you’re disturbingly reminded of a mummy, his heavy cloak wrapped around him like a funeral shroud. Tufts of white hair sprout from the sides of his head, from his ears, above his eyes. His eyes are an eerie silvery-gray, shining out from beneath his wild eyebrows, far more clear than you would expect of a man his age. But he’s not just any man. He’s a Watcher, and from the looks of it, he might just be the original Watcher, looking over the world when humanity dawned.

“Brothers,” his voice is a rasp barely above a whisper, but he captures the attention of every person in the room. His gaze sweeps along the table, and when at last you feel his gaze tickling along the side of your face, he says, “And honored guests.”

A few quiet grumbles sound around the table, but another quick look from the elderly Watcher silences them all. The man seated across from you does, however, continue to glare menacingly at you. Beneath the table, WinWin slides his hand against yours, slotting his fingers between yours. A very low, nearly imperceptible growl rolls from him, his lip twitching as he glares right back at the man.

The High Watcher continues on with what appears to be a normal morning speech, a run-down of duties and deployments. It’s all very normal, and it reminds you of a monastery you once visited with your mother, particularly when the Watchers all bow their heads, and the High Watcher commences a prayer in a language that you’ve never heard before. It reminds you of the warbling Latin prayers when you’d sat with the priests in the monastery over lunch. 

Between one blink and the next, the expansive table is covered in breakfast finery. Platters of sausages and bacon, basins of scrambled eggs, towers of toast, pearl-handled utensils, decanters of fruit juice and water, steaming carafes of coffee. There was nothing, and then there is an entire breakfast feast laid out before you. 

You try not to flinch when one of the white-cloaked Watchers slaps a slab of raw meat down onto the plate in front of WinWin. 

“Here, dog,” the man says, sitting back in his seat with a smug grin. “Just the way you like it, I’m sure.”

WinWin leans back, and you can see the limits of his restraint being tested. His eyes shimmer wolfishly as he looks around at the laughing Watchers. His hand tightens against yours beneath the table, the other clenches around the pearl handled knife sitting beside his plate. He eyes the Watcher that had made the oh-so-funny joke, and you can tell that WinWin is considering how easily he could just drive the pearl-handed blade into the man’s throat. You squeeze his hand.

Slowly, WinWin lowers his gaze to his plate. The raw meat sits, leaking a small amount of blood on the immaculately white porcelain dish. 

You know he’s not going to eat it raw. But he doesn’t know how to react in front of all of these Watchers either. 

When you lift your hand, calling to that eternal heat inside you, guiding it to the surface, you hold your hand over WinWin’s plate, cranking up your flames as they burst through your skin. The meat cooks quickly beneath your flames, the edges of it charring just perfectly. You extinguish your fire, peck a kiss against WinWin’s cheek, and turn back to your own plate, silently daring any of the Watchers to say anything.

The rest of breakfast passes without much incident. There are a few passive aggressive comments, but no one dares to do much under the eye of the High Watcher. He had referred to you and WinWin as honored guests after all, though the way that the Watchers regard you makes you feel much less than that revered status. It reminds you of what Renjun had said to you in the moment before he pushed you through the tapestry. They know who you are, who your friends are, and they’ve had an eye on all of you for a very long time.

The table is weighed down with fruits, pastries, and many dishes that you don’t know the names of. There is a savory dish of sausages and onions and peppers, a vegetable-y bean mixture with fresh bread, a stack of za’atar flatbreads with various additional toppings on the side, an interesting egg and yogurt dish, and a few rice-based dishes as well. You didn’t realize quite how hungry you were until you’re reaching over WinWin, having already sampled everything that is readily right in front of you. You could eat half the table, it seems, and WinWin just laughs softly when you pile a bit more onto your plate. 

You’ve just taken a bit of a slice of honeyed toast covered in a fruity jam and some kind of cheese when WinWin starts moving dishes that are out of your reach a little closer to you.

“Portal travel takes a lot of energy,” he explains softly, leaning his shoulder against yours. When you throw an inquisitive look his way, he explains further, “You were too caught up in the stress and wonder of yesterday to feel it, probably. With the excitement of all of this place, the confusion and emotions stirred up by the conversations we had at the table yesterday, I’m sure hunger was kinda pushed to the back of your mind. Though that little meal probably took the edge off. Eat all you want, Princess, I’m sure they’re good for it.”

You do exactly that.

Unlike the feast you’d been treated to upon arrival yesterday, this table remains laden with food even as the Watchers begin to leave. You devour everything within reach, ignoring the Watchers that stare, focusing only on your plate and the hot shape of WinWin’s hand at your knee. 

The only issue arrives when you’re finally feeling like you’ve eaten your fill.

A cluster of black-hooded Watchers remains at the end of the table, heads bowed together as they converse in whispers with the High Watcher. As you emerge from your feasting daze, you think you catch the sound of your name. Maybe one of the Watchers turn their hoods toward you and WinWin. 

WinWin growls when your nails suddenly dig sharply into his hand, talons biting into his flesh. “Shit! What are you–?”

He looks up and sees exactly why you’ve taken a vice-like hold. For very good reason.

One of the Watchers from the head of the table is now approaching where you and WinWin sit alone, the last remaining attendees to this breakfast feast.

The Watcher glides across the floor towards you, his hood steadfastly hiding his face in its shadow, as if even a sliver of light would be the end for him. His movement is so smooth that you can’t help wondering if his feet are even touching the ground or if he’s just hovering above it like a ghost. When he stops beside your seat, his robes flutter and sway from the motion, and you manage to catch sight of a pair of shiny black shoes beneath the edge of the robe. 

WinWin’s fingers knot with yours, holding tight like he’s ready to bolt and drag you with him at the slightest provocation. He glares at the hooded figure, his eyes flickering towards the wolfish shade of amber. “Can we help you?”

The Watcher stands there for a few silent seconds before he nods his head. “Our High Watcher requests the attendance of the young Miss for an interview.”

  An interview? 

“An interview for what?” You glance over at WinWin. 

“The prisoners face a trial. Our High Watcher would like to interview you as a witness,” the Watcher explains. There’s something in his voice that lights up part of your brain, but that part is overruled by an important question – how can you be a witness to an alleged crime that hasn’t even been clarified to you? The Watcher doesn’t budge when you ask that aloud, he only folds his hands resolutely in front of him, and after another moment of silence says, “Your cooperation would be very much appreciated.”

“Don’t go.” WinWin hisses. “I don’t trust them.”

“She will be perfectly safe with us, I assure you, werewolf.” There is a tone of sharpness bordering on bitterness in the Watcher’s voice. “A brief interview with our High Watcher, and she will be returned safely to you and your vampire companion in your suite of rooms.”

Your heart sinks. You’d been hoping that if you cooperated, agreeing to this interview, that WinWin could at least come with you. You dislike the idea of being alone with the Watchers just as much as WinWin dislikes it. Additionally, you haven’t spent long away from either Mark or WinWin in days now, and the idea fills you with a mild panic.

“Can’t I come along?” WinWin asks.

Although you can’t see the Watcher’s face, you can feel his eyes on your face even as he speaks to WinWin. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. For confidentiality and an unbiased interview process, no one may accompany her who may have influence over her version of events.”

“And what events are those?” You twist in your seat to fully face the hooded man of mythological stature. “From where I’m sitting, the only ones committing any crime are you and the other Watchers. My boyfriends were kidnapped, or at the very least are being unlawfully held by you. You refuse time and again to tell me what crimes they’ve committed, so if you expect honest answers from me in an interview, the least you can do is be open with me first.”

Still, his dark eyes graze your face from beneath the shelter of his hood in silence. 

“During the interview, you will perhaps find answers.” The raspy voice of the High Watcher grates out from his seat at the far end of the table. His bizarre misty gray eyes are focused on you, his hood pooled around his shoulders, though the weight of it looks like it could easily collapse the ancient man. “There are answers that both sides of this may provide the other with.” He steeples his bony fingers together before him on the table, gazing expectantly at you.

Beneath the force of the High Watcher’s gaze, you feel compelled to agree to come along with them. 

The chair squeals across the floor when you push back from the table.

“Don’t go!” WinWin quietly insists once more, still clinging to your hand. 

Carefully, you pull your hand out of his. “It’ll be fine, WinWin. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, I’m not sure of it. I don’t trust any of them.” His amber gaze sweeps around the room, from the Watcher nearest to you to the ones gathered around the High Watcher at the head of the table and even to the few that linger in the main entrance to the Banquet Hall. “An hour. That’s all I’ll give them before I drag Mark from that room and we scour this manor for you, whether their damned interview is finished or not.”

The passion and fiery anger in his eyes ignites something inside you, and you lean in quickly, twisting your fingers in the front of his shirt. “I’ll be back with you before the hour is up, I promise you. No matter what I have to do.” You press in, dropping a quick, light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve, remember?”

WinWin lets you go, but he’s still reluctant. His hand slides along yours until your fingertips fall away, and he stays seated, watching you as you follow behind the Watcher.

The High Watcher is already leaving the room with his escort of black-robed Watchers around him, and you’re not even surprised when the Watcher walking in front of you joins the parade. You follow suit, trailing behind the black cloaks out into a narrow wood-paneled hallway that smells of dust. The hallway takes several ninety degree turns before it straightens out, leading by a vestibule that butts up to a pair of doors out onto the courtyard you’d passed through the previous day. It doesn’t make a lot of sense that this pair of doors as well as the front doors both open out onto the same courtyard, but there’s a lot about this place that doesn’t make sense.

Only a short distance further, this company of Watchers you’ve found yourself a part of now passes through a pair of doors into what appears to be a court room.  Not a courtroom like you’ve seen on TV or during  school field trips while you were younger, but a room for holding court. Like a throne room. 

A long, rectangular room with gleaming marble floors stretches out before you.. Rows of fluted pillars march down either side of the space in front of a row of half-shadowed seats in the gallery. And upon the dais at the far end of this room is the crown jewel of the space: the throne of pure white stone before a rose window of gorgeous stained glass. Light arcs through the room from the window set high above the pillars on either side, as well as the rainbow-colored sunlight through the rose window behind the throne. 

The High Watcher passes up the center of the room, climbing the stairs to the throne. He hobbles along slowly, using his staff to keep from toppling over. The other Watchers disappear to either side, filing in among the seats half-hidden in the arcade behind the pillars. Only one Watcher remains beside you, and you suspect it’s the same one that had been sent to fetch you from WinWin’s side at the breakfast table. He has the same height, the same posture, and when he reaches out and gestures for you to move in through the doorway, he also says, “Take a seat, miss,” in the same voice. 

For the first time, as you follow the path of his hand, you notice a seat in the center of the room. Just a plain wooden chair placed almost exactly at the center of the room. You can only assume that’s exactly the seat you’re meant to take. 

Your footsteps echo around the room, though the same Watcher trails silently behind you, only the faint swish of his cloak audible in the eerie silence. The others don’t make a sound, not like you would expect in a gathering. No coughs or clearing of throats. No creaking of chairs or the shuffle of clothing during movement. They all sit still as statues. None more so than High Watcher. He seems carved from stone the moment that he’s settled into the throne with not even a twitch of his wrinkled face. Only the slight movement of his eyes following your progress towards the seat at the center of the room give any indication that he’s still living. 

They’re all just watching you, though you suppose that’s a given. It’s in the name. But there’s nothing quite like being watched by a bunch of men to put you on edge. You feel like you’re fifteen again, so unsure of yourself but trying to look like you’re confident, trying to put on a face that says you don’t feel like bolting from the room. 

You take a seat in that central chair. 

The Watcher steps into place behind your chair while all of the others look on, and you stare straight forward at the High Watcher. 

The light from the rose window creates a halo effect around the High Watcher’s head, and for a moment you feel like you’re staring into the face of God himself. Especially when a moment later your full name booms out of the frail old man’s mouth. His voice has entirely lost that whispery rasp, now powerful and commanding your attention. 

You grip the arms of your wooden chair. “Yes, sir?”

“Why are you here?” He asks, leaning forward slightly in his high seat, his silvery eyes squinting down at you. “In Purgatory, child. State your purpose.”

A surge of anger bleeds through to the surface of your overwhelming nerves about your present position. You straighten up in your seat, holding eye contact with the elderly Watcher as you say, “I’m here due to my boyfriends being held here with no explanation that I’m aware of. I want to see them freed, or, at the very least, know what they’re being accused of.”

“So you and your companions arrived, uninvited, to trespass on our lands?” The High Watcher asks.

Are you the one on trial here? For trespassing?

The Watcher behind you curls his hands over the back of the chair. The wood freaks slightly in response. “Sir, to be fair, the portal to Hell City is open to anyone that has the proper pass. It’s easy enough to get turned around in those woods, plenty of pathways to take. Perhaps she and her companions just mistakenly took the back entrance.”

Why is the Watcher defending you? You fight the impulse to twist around and attempt a look beneath his hood at his face. 

“I thought I was here right now to answer questions and receive answers in turn about Yuta and Ten.” Your voice echoes around the room. “Or is this just an interrogation of me?”

The High Watcher smiles, a wide grin that catches you off-guard. “Child, why don’t you tell us about yourself.”

“About myself?” 

He nods. 

“What about me?”

The High Watcher leans back in his seat, folding his hands over his belly. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. But make it rather quick. We’ve only approximately fifty minutes before that werewolf friend of yours comes looking.” He laughs drily, and you hear a few of the other onlookers chuckle from their seats in the arcade. “Tell us what you know of yourself.”

You start at the beginning, like he’d suggested. “My parents tried their best to protect me from the truth, from my true identity and heritage. That didn’t matter, of course. As the saying goes: the truth will out.”

The Watchers listen in silence as you tell them about your parents. Your mother and your father, their diligent faith, the occasional trips to religious institutions with your mother to visit old friends or just to spend a little while immersed in a place like that. All of these things that helped to conceal the truth of your heritage from yourself. The Watchers listen as you tell them a brief summary of the curious deaths of your parents, your subsequent struggles with faith and feelings of hopelessness and not knowing who you were anymore. 

Even now, years later, it’s difficult to talk about, so you decide to skip forward, glossing entirely over your rediscovery of faith. Instead you jump ahead quite a bit. 

“And then I met Ten and Yuta. I came with them to Hell City, and immediately I felt like this was a place that both challenged what I’d always known while it also had a familiar feeling, like there was a part of me that called to this place. Yuta and Ten made me feel at home; they showed me around and introduced me to people, and they became my closest friends, my partners, my boyfriends.”

You half expect the Watchers to show some sign of disapproval at your casual mention of polyamory, but there’s not a twitch of an eyelid nor a sound of disgust among them. There is a pause, and your throat feels dry from talking, the silence ringing with expectation for you to continue. You don’t. 

“Did you stay in Hell City? From the time of your arrival until your trip here?” The High Watcher asks, his voice dipping once more into the whispery rasp. 

The fact he’s asking you that question makes you think that he already knows the answer. You shake your head no. “I left the city, and I went back home for a while. To my hometown, and I tried to live my life as normally as I had before. I wanted to return to ignorance, honestly. I wanted to feel comfort in my faith like I once had, and to pretend that everything was nothing more than just a strange dream. I believed it for a little while. I was happy sometimes, but confused and making myself feel a bit crazy too. I wanted to be happy back in my hometown, to forget that Yuta and Ten and all of Hell City even existed.”

“And the demons allowed that, did they?” The High Watcher leans forward in his seat once more. “How did you find your way back to Hell City? If you were happy in your ignorant human life, why did you come back to Hell?”

You draw your hands together in your lap, wringing them together. “There was a… complication. I trusted someone that I shouldn’t have, and it almost killed me. Ten and Yuta, and WinWin as well, came to my rescue. They neutralized the problem in my defense, and then they brought me back with them. I’ve been happy with them since. Happier than I ever was when I went back to my ignorant human life.” 

And that’s the full truth. 

You have never felt happier or more complete than you have when you were with them. Those moments since you came back to Hell City, when it was you, Ten, Yuta, Mark, and WinWin were the happiest moments. They have painted your life into happier shades than you’ve seen since long before the deaths of your parents. You feel complete when you’re with all of them, and even now, as you douse yourself in the memories you feel a little light of happiness inside yourself. The need to be with them. 

“I just want to see them set free again. Whatever you all think that Yuta and Ten did, I’m certain that they’re innocent.” You gaze forward, imploring the High Watcher to hear and understand your plea. It’s up to him, isn’t it? To grant your boyfriends freedom so you can get back to your happy life in Hell City?

But apparently it’s not that easy. Silence falls over the room for a moment. Complete silence where no one moves or makes a sound or even seems to breathe. Even the Watcher that stands at your back doesn’t so much as twitch a fingertip. Silence so tense that it feels like a definitive snap when the High Watcher finally sits forward. 

“Let us go back, dear, tell us again about the demons. From the moment you met them.” His staff comes down on the floor with a sound like breaking ice, a command. 

Now, you don’t want to tell these Watchers everything. There are plenty of private moments in this story that you certainly don’t want to share with a room of strange men. But you do your best to recount your initial meeting with Ten and with Yuta in the cemetery. You can’t even remember many of the details of that night, the things that were said to convince you to come with them. 

“They appeared out of nowhere,” you say to the room, “And they were handsome, a little terrifying, but overall charming. I wasn’t difficult to convince, I know that. Yuta offered me a home, safety, and he didn’t say it but I could see in his eyes that he was someone to trust. So I took his hand, closed my eyes, and when I opened them I was transported somewhere entirely new.” You don’t know what these Watchers want you to say. They’re not really interviewing you so much as having you repeat back details of your story, of the unchanging hours you’d spent with the demons in Hell City. They’re focused on seemingly meaningless moments, like when you mentioned there was a stretch of days when Ten was gone, how he clung to you afterwards. 

A part of you feels like you’re betraying something as you talk, but the words keep coming as if they’re being pulled right out of your mouth by some trick of the Watchers. 

You feel like you’re talking for hours, recounting the same bits and pieces of stories, wringing them for any tiny details that you haven’t already described. Still, you can’t discern any specific reason that the Watchers would care for those parts of your stories. But your mouth feels dry from speaking, and you can’t believe that WinWin hasn’t broken through the doors behind you with Mark in tow to come to your rescue. 

You’re just taking a pause, a moment to try to get some saliva to wet your dry mouth, when the High Watcher gets to his feet. 

Is that it? Are you done?

The butt of his staff hits the ground again with that sharp cracking sound that resonates around the room. “We’re done for the day. Go, child. You’ve given us much to think about.”

Have you? 

You try to think of what you’ve said. What have you said that could be important? But all you do is give yourself a headache. 

The Watcher behind you moves when you move, and you turn your head sharply to look at him. Still, you can discern nothing of his face, but you do finally notice something on his black robe that perhaps sets him apart from some of the other black-cloaked Watchers in the shadow of the arcade. A silver medal is pinned to his left breast, and a thin silver chain connects that medal to another one pinned higher at his shoulder. 

“I can lead you back,” the Watcher says, gesturing back towards the doors. “Like I promised your werewolf friend.” 

“Please,” is all you say before the Watcher sets off, and you follow. 

You try to keep track of the path the Watcher leads you along, but there are many twists and turns and new hallways and staircases, one elevated covered walkway that seems to stretch between two wings of the building over an enclosed tree garden. He leads you past a long winding hallway that finally curves smoothly around a raised oval-shaped sitting room, and you see a familiar door straight ahead at the end of a room furnished with games of all sorts. You notice that there are a few Watchers scattered around at the game tables, all dressed in white robes like the one WinWin had been given, some of them wear their hoods up, some down.  

These all look to be on the younger end of the spectrum you’d witnessed at breakfast. Quickly you scan their faces, but there’s no sign of Renjun, though you feel like he would easily fit in amongst them. 

The Watcher that has accompanied you through the interview until now, melts away as you run to the door. It flies open just before you reach it, and there stands WinWin framed in the fire with his shoulders hunched and fiery determination burning in his eyes. Mark stands just behind him looking angry and scared and nervous in equal parts. 

You fly into WinWin’s chest, wrapping your arms around him, pushing him back into the room. His arms squeeze around you in return, and the tip of his nose buried into your hair, breathing in deeply before he asks, “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, right?” His hands flutter, worriedly. 

“No.” You let him touch you, running his hands over every inch he can reach until he’s satisfied that you’re in one piece. “They just asked me to talk about myself and about Yuta and Ten. I don’t know what they could have possibly learned from what I said.”

“Probably more than you thought you had to give away.” Mark steps around WinWin, and he rests his hand on your shoulder. “We were just getting ready to come find you.”

It’s still rather early in the morning, probably only about two hours after dawn. “If you’re both already ready to go out, should we explore for a bit? I know you looked around last night, Mark, but maybe there’s even more to see in the daylight?”

“I’m sure there is.” He nods, pulling his hand away from your shoulder. “And I’m sure it’s in all new places. If we go out and actually look around, how are we going to be able to find our way back here?”

“Well, how did you do it last night?” WinWin asks.

Mark shrugs. “I didn’t go all that far honestly, but then I had to wander around for a bit before I found that staircase out there again. Of course, I didn’t realize that everything was gonna fucking move on me. So I just thought I was finding secret passages or something.”

“They’ve got plenty of those too, I’m sure.” You step away from WinWin’s embrace, but he keeps a hand resting against your lower back. “This place makes no sense, architecturally speaking. Like, when they just took me to their court room or throne room or whatever, there was a door just outside it that led into that main courtyard the Watcher brought us through yesterday, even though we walked so far and took so many turns there’s no way that we could’ve been anywhere near the courtyard.”

Mark shrugs. “Maybe that’s all part of it. Maybe this place defies physics, like the laws of space and stuff. So, still, if we go out, how are we going to find our way back?”

“I guess we wander around like you did, or we ask for help.” You turn to look back out the open doorway behind you. The young Watchers are still out there playing games, but the black hooded Watcher who had brought you here is gone. “But I want to see what we can find. I still think a library or something like it could be very helpful. I’m sure there’s got to be one. They’ve got a ballroom, for fuck’s sake.”

“Before we go,” Mark clears his throat. “Do you want to change clothes? While you were both down at breakfast, I rang the bell to get us some new clothes. If we’re going to be here a few days until Ten and Yuta’s trial, we might need a change or two of clothes, at least.”

He’s right, and it’s only now that you notice WinWin isn’t wearing the white Watcher cloak that he’d been given. He’s dressed more similarly to Renjun now. Actually, both he and Mark are wearing the tunic and leggings like you’d seen on the strange young man earlier this morning. 

Mark gestures back towards the bedroom you’d slept in. “Your clothes are laid out on the bed.”

You find a dress on the bed. A long one with multiple layers of skirts, flowy sleeves that taper down to your wrists, a corset that looks like torture to even attempt to get on. There are a pair of boots. All of it looks old and dusty, like whoever had gathered these clothes had had to dig down into storage to find something for a woman to wear in this house of solely male Watchers. 

No part of this outfit appeals to you, although you’re sure it would look lovely on someone else. You just don’t feel like a full skirt and a corset is going to be at all comfortable for you to go exploring in. So, while you hear Mark and WinWin’s muffled conversation start up through the closed bedroom door, you get to work on manifesting your own outfit. 

You don’t want something that would stand out, but you also don’t necessarily want a Watcher robe or the tunic and leggings that WinWin and Mark (and Renjun) are wearing. So you want something that still gives you a medieval-esque type of feel, but nothing that goes overboard. Something subtle, like you may have seen at a Renaissance Faire (which your father had once taken you to) or in a historical drama (which your mother had always been a fan of), so eventually you settle on a loose white top, a pair of durable brown leggings, and a reddish sleeveless tunic sort of thing. You wear a belt around your waist to hold it all together, the boots that were provided for you, and as you look in the mirror you almost laugh. You look like a pirate woman minus the big feathered hat, eye patch, peg leg or parrot on your shoulder. But it’s fine. You’re comfortable, it fits with a similar look to what the others are wearing. 

Mark’s eyebrows draw slightly together when you step out of the room like that, but he doesn’t say anything. WinWin just pushes to his feet, walking immediately towards the door, ready to go out and explore the enemy territory. 

“Ready?” You ask Mark, and he nods although he’s still frowning slightly. Somewhat self-conscious, you ask, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, blinking a few times as if he’s trying to bring himself out of a daze. “Sorry. You just, uh, look really pretty.”

That makes you laugh enough that WinWin steps back into the common room to see what is happening. Mark looks a little embarrassed and a little amused by your reaction. 

“You’ve seen me in all kinds of actually pretty outfits. Dresses and fancy things, all made up pretty, but this medieval wench-core or pirate type of thing is what you think is pretty?” You laugh, gesturing at your outfit. “You’re a funny guy, Mark.”

WinWin looks just as amused, but he’s looking you up and down with an approving sort of gaze. 

Mark clears his throat and heads for the doorway. “I’ve seen you a lot of different ways, but you’re always pretty. Are we going to explore, or are you just going to tease me some more?” 

As soon as Mark is close enough to WinWin, the werewolf throws his arm around Mark’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “I don’t see why we can’t do both, bro!” 

Mark throws a look of dread back over his shoulder at you, but you only smile, tighten your belt a little, and walk out of the common room to follow the two of them. The mysteries of the House of the Watchers call to you, and you are more than ready to answer that call.

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a/n: sorry this chapter’s a little on the shorter side, I’m basically rewriting this entire section of the story, and I was running out of time before my update time, so this is all that I have completed for this week, but hopefully I’ll have more next week (otherwise I’m going to have to postpone the update to actually write lol) but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It’s basically a filler chapter, though there’s a tiny little bit of something in there