#deja vu coats

[kopw]

déjà vu

[minksextremeunction]

It's so selfish but I wish I could have replaced them just for a minute. Anything. Anything to be there, again. I would let you do it all over again.

[gyuuberryy]

trapped

pairing: hotel owner!heeseung x reader, slight sunoo x reader

genre: reincarnation au, supernatural themes, horror

synopsis: a road trip with your parents gone wrong lands you at a mysterious mansion in the middle of nowhere. after it turns out to be a hotel, your parents decide to stop over. everything about this place screams deja vu to you which is strange because you've never even heard about it. the hotel was not the only weird thing though, its handsome yet mysterious owner who looked like he stepped out of the 1920s is way too enthusiastic about your stay. every encounter with him leaves you feeling weirded out yet enamoured. but he is not who you think he seems to be. he will be the one to decide the duration of your stay here and it looks like it will not be ending anytime soon.

warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION! horror themes, suggestive content, slight yandere themes, manipulation, possessive!hee, murder, blood, lmk if i missed anything

note: i just came back from a party and my legs are killingg me so im half awake as i post this BUTTT it's finally out!! i love this plot so much omg. i think the ending could've been written better but eh. enjoyy and lemme know what you think of it!

word count: 24.3k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the endless bickering between your parents filled the car like white noise. you were used to it by now—too used to it—but today, it grated on your nerves more than usual. you pressed your forehead against the cold glass of the window, watching the dark trees rush by, a blurry mix of black and grey.

"well, if you hadn’t taken that ridiculous detour, we wouldn’t have wasted half the day!" your mom snapped, her voice rising with every syllable.

your dad clenched the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. "oh, right, because everything’s my fault! you’re the one who insisted we take this ‘bonding trip’ in the first place."

you sighed. there it was, that phrase again: bonding trip. a doomed effort to salvage what was left of your parents’ relationship before you left for your two-year exchange program. your mom had decided that spending time together, crammed in a car for hours on end, would somehow solve years of unresolved issues.

"maybe if you actually listened to me for once, we wouldn’t be in this mess!" your mom retorted, arms crossed, glaring at your dad from the passenger seat.

you resisted the urge to groan out loud and instead slumped back in your seat. what was the point? nothing ever changed between them. you glanced down at your phone; no service, of course. this road trip to the ‘resort’ was supposed to be a goodbye vacation before you headed overseas, but the way things were going, you were counting the hours until it was over.

the car began to slow down as your dad pulled into a shabby gas station. it wasn’t much—a couple of pumps under flickering neon lights and a small convenience store that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the early 2000s.

“we’re stopping here?” your mom said, exasperated. “this place looks like it’s one step away from falling apart.”

“we need gas and food. you can’t survive on passive-aggressive comments alone,” your dad muttered, turning the car off and stepping out.

you stifled a laugh but quickly hid it when your mom shot you a look. without a word, you pushed the door open, desperate for a break from their constant bickering. you could feel their voices rising behind you as you made your way towards the store, the bell over the door jingling weakly as you stepped inside.

the guy behind the counter looked about your age, his face illuminated by the dull glow of a hanging light. his disinterested gaze shifted from the magazine he was reading to you as you approached. the store smelled like stale chips and cheap air freshener, a layer of dust coating the shelves.

“hey,” you greeted, leaning against the counter, “do you know if there are any motels up ahead?”

the guy looked up, raising an eyebrow as if the question itself was a bother. he glanced at the darkening sky outside and then back at you. "motels? there’s a town maybe three or four hours ahead. not much else between here and there, though."

you frowned. “three or four hours?” your stomach twisted. that would mean driving into the night—and with your parents still at each other’s throats, the idea didn’t sit well with you.

“yeah,” he shrugged, “but it’s getting late. if i were you, i’d try to get there quick. you don’t wanna be out here after dark.”

his tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you nodded anyway, brushing it off. you grabbed a couple of snacks and paid quickly, eager to get out of the unsettling atmosphere of the store.

outside, the bickering had not only continued, but it had escalated. your mom was leaning against the car with her arms crossed, while your dad angrily fumbled with the gas pump.

“what do you mean it’s not taking the card?” your mom was saying, her voice sharp with irritation.

“i don’t know! maybe it’s your stupid card,” your dad shot back, slamming the pump back into its holder.

you rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. wordlessly, you tossed the snacks into the backseat and climbed in, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary. you didn’t want to deal with their drama anymore. after a few more minutes of back-and-forth arguing, they finally got the gas pump working, and soon, you were back on the road.

the silence in the car was thick, broken only by the occasional sigh or muttered insult from the front seat. you kept your gaze fixed on the road ahead, trying to tune it all out, when suddenly the car began to sputter.

your dad’s face tightened as the car jerked, the dashboard lights flickering. “what the—?”

with a final shudder, the car rolled to a stop, dead on the side of a long, deserted road. darkness had fully settled around you, swallowing the car in a sea of black. you could barely make out the outline of the trees surrounding you, their twisted branches reaching up like claws against the sky.

“great,” your mom groaned, massaging her temples. “just perfect.”

your dad cursed under his breath and got out to pop the hood, leaving you and your mom in the eerie silence of the car. you sighed, reluctantly stepping out to help. you had no idea what you were doing, but sitting in the car doing nothing felt worse.

as you peered under the hood with your dad, who was muttering to himself as he checked the engine, your mom’s voice suddenly cut through the night air.

“look!” she said, her voice urgent. “there—do you see those lights?”

you looked up, squinting into the distance. sure enough, faint lights were flickering between the trees far ahead, barely visible but unmistakable.

a chill ran down your spine. you’d been looking at the gps not too long ago, and there hadn’t been any signs of life for miles. no towns. no houses. nothing.

“something’s not right,” you muttered, turning toward your dad. “there was nothing out here when i checked earlier.”

your dad waved you off, closing the hood with a loud bang. “you’re just tired. we’ll check it out. maybe there’s a house or something up ahead.”

your mom was already back in the car, apparently unconcerned. you stood there for a moment, staring at the mysterious lights that flickered in the distance. something about them felt… off, but as usual, no one was listening to you. with a groan of frustration, you climbed back into the car, your nerves tingling with unease.

the engine sputtered weakly to life once again, and as your dad drove toward the lights, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was waiting for you up ahead wasn’t what you thought it was.

the car stuttered one last time before it gave up entirely, coming to a dead stop right in front of the lights. you blinked, heart racing as you took in the sight before you.

a mansion—no, the mansion—rose out of the darkness like something from an old gothic novel. the sprawling, ivy-clad structure stretched far beyond what you could make out in the dim light, its towers stabbing into the sky. faded stone gargoyles leered down from the corners of the building, their grim faces illuminated by the faint, flickering lamps that lined the driveway. the mansion seemed alive, ancient, its very presence looming over you like a dark shadow. it was eerily silent, save for the wind that whistled through the trees surrounding it.

for a second, you couldn’t breathe.

you swallowed hard. “this can’t be real.”

your dad got out of the car first, slamming the door shut with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “we’ll figure out the car in the morning,” he grumbled. “we don’t have a choice. let’s see if they’ll let us stay.”

your mom, already out of the car and standing beside him, nodded in agreement. she didn’t even look fazed, just happy to be somewhere with lights and (hopefully) a bed. “come on, it’s late,” she said, like she hadn’t noticed the eerie silence hanging in the air or the fact that this place seemed plucked out of another century.

“are you serious?” you muttered under your breath, standing frozen next to the car. “this place looks like a horror movie set.”

your dad gave you a weary look. “we’re not staying in the car, that’s for sure. stop being dramatic and come on. it’s just a mansion.”

just a mansion? you wanted to scream. there was no way this was a normal place—no way a mansion this large, this old, could have gone unnoticed on the gps. but the protests died in your throat when you realised neither of them cared. like always, they were too focused on practicalities to notice the screaming red flags around them.

with a sigh, you unwillingly followed them up the cracked stone steps that led to the massive, elaborately carved front doors. every footstep echoed, the wind seeming to still as you approached the entrance. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, like a pair of invisible eyes followed your every movement.

your dad pressed the doorbell—a soft chime rang out, sounding way too delicate for a place like this. you couldn’t help but wince, your nerves on edge. the silence that followed stretched on, thick and suffocating. it felt as though the mansion itself was holding its breath, waiting.

then, slowly, the door creaked open.

a young man stood in the doorway, his face illuminated by the warm glow of a chandelier behind him. his expression was neutral, almost blank, as if he had opened the door purely out of obligation. he was dressed impeccably, a sharp black tuxedo that seemed far too formal for a place like this—or maybe it was just perfect for this kind of mansion. either way, it unnerved you.

his eyes swept over your parents first, taking in their travel-worn appearance with little interest. “hello?” your dad started, clearing his throat awkwardly. “we, uh… we had some car trouble just outside. we were hoping… maybe you could help us?”

for a moment, the man—sunoo, as you’d later learn—didn’t say anything. he simply stood there, watching your parents with a blank face, like he was waiting for them to say something more interesting. his eyes flicked up to yours, and the world seemed to tilt slightly as his gaze met yours.

it was only for a second—just a fleeting moment—but something shifted in his expression. his cold, neutral stare melted into something… darker, more intrigued. a spark of something flashed in his eyes before his face returned to its impassive mask. the brief change left you rattled, a chill creeping up your spine.

your mom jumped in to break the awkward silence, her voice bright despite the situation. “yes, we’ve been driving for hours, and when our car broke down, we were hoping to find a place to stay. is this…” she glanced up at the looming mansion, almost sheepishly. “is this a hotel?”

there was a brief pause, and then, without warning, sunoo’s face split into the widest, most overenthusiastic grin you’d ever seen. it was such a drastic change from his earlier demeanour that it made your skin crawl. “oh, of course! you’ve come to the right place. this is a hotel, and you’re more than welcome to stay.” he extended an arm, gesturing grandly to the vast, dimly lit entryway behind him. “we have plenty of rooms available!”

your dad exhaled in relief, completely missing the oddity of sunoo’s exaggerated reaction. “thank god. you’re a lifesaver.”

you couldn’t stop staring at sunoo, watching the way his smile stretched just a little too wide, the way his eyes gleamed with something that wasn’t quite right. “this is a hotel?” you asked, voice filled with scepticism. “i didn’t see anything about it on the gps.”

sunoo’s eyes flicked back to you, and the unsettling smile never left his face. “oh? how strange. we’ve been here for a long time… surely, you must have heard about it.”

“no,” you said flatly, narrowing your eyes. “i’m sure. there was nothing around here.”

just as you were about to explain further, he smoothly cut you off with a bright, “well, no matter! you’re here now, and that’s what counts. come, come! let’s not waste any more time standing out in the cold.”

he practically ushered your parents through the doorway, his sudden energy making you want to take a step back. your dad muttered a quick “thank you” and walked right inside, your mom following closely behind. neither of them seemed to notice the way sunoo’s cheerful demeanour seemed… off.

you, however, couldn’t ignore the gnawing discomfort twisting in your gut. every instinct screamed at you to leave, to drag your parents back to the car, but the reality of your situation left you with little choice. sighing in frustration, you reluctantly followed them into the mansion.

the door shut behind you with an ominous thud that echoed through the long hallway, and the heavy weight of the mansion seemed to settle around you. you felt trapped, as if stepping into this place had sealed your fate.

as sunoo led your parents through the dimly lit entry hall, you lagged behind, your skin prickling with unease. you leaned toward your mom, lowering your voice to a whisper. “this is creepy. something’s not right about this place.”

she barely spared you a glance. “you’re being paranoid. it’s just an old mansion.”

“an old mansion that no one’s ever heard of? that wasn’t on the map? you didn’t see the way that guy was acting. he’s way too happy about us being stranded here.”

your dad huffed, clearly having reached the end of his patience. “it’s a hotel. we need a place to stay, and we don’t have any other options. you can sleep in the car if you’re that worried.”

you rolled your eyes, biting back the rest of your protests. of course, they wouldn’t listen. they never did. they couldn’t see the danger right in front of them.

as you followed your parents deeper into the mansion, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. the walls seemed to close in around you, and every footstep echoed like a warning.

something was wrong here. you knew it. you could feel it in your bones.

sunoo led your parents away, gesturing toward a desk where they could check in. you lingered behind, reluctant to follow them. the dimly lit hallway stretched before you, lined with dark wood panelling and framed with ornate carvings. despite the grandeur of the place, there was an eerie stillness that seemed to swallow every sound. no humming of guests, no distant chatter, no echoes of footsteps on marble floors—just a vast, consuming silence.

you slowly started walking, glancing around, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling crawling up your spine. for a hotel this size, it should have been bustling with activity. yet, there was no one. not a single person walking through the hallways, no staff except sunoo at the entrance. just the soft padding of your own footsteps, echoing like whispers through the still air.

as you turned a corner, your eyes landed on a giant painting mounted on the wall. you stopped in your tracks, something about it tugging at your mind. the painting depicted a dark, stormy landscape—a crumbling stone mansion, much like the one you stood in now, surrounded by leafless trees that seemed to reach out toward it like skeletal hands. the sky above was swirling with ominous clouds, and a full moon cast a pale, ghostly glow on the scene.

but it wasn’t just the image itself that made your skin crawl—it was the strange feeling of familiarity. you couldn’t shake the sensation that you’d seen this before, as though it was pulled from the corners of a forgotten memory. a knot formed in your chest as you stared, lost in thought. where have you seen this before?

suddenly, a voice, smooth as silk, broke through your thoughts.

“interesting, isn’t it?”

you jumped, your heart leaping into your throat as you spun around. standing behind you was a man, and not just any man—he was stunningly handsome. his dark hair was neatly styled, framing a face that could’ve been carved from marble. his suit, a luxurious black ensemble that fit him perfectly, was undeniably expensive. 

but what struck you most were his eyes—wide and dark, locked on yours with an intensity that sent a flush of heat creeping up your neck.

“i'm sorry,” he broke out into a soft laugh as he took a step back. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

his voice was smooth, almost hypnotic, but he paused mid-sentence when his gaze landed squarely on your face. his eyes seemed to freeze there, widening slightly as if he were studying every detail. a look of surprise, or maybe recognition, flashed across his face for just a moment before he quickly composed himself. but the intensity in his stare remained, his eyes never leaving yours.

you felt a wave of flustered heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze. he wasn’t just looking at you—he was seeing you, like you were the only person in the world. the weight of his attention made you feel strangely vulnerable, your pulse quickening in response.

you cleared your throat, trying to shake off the sudden rush of nerves. “uh… it’s fine,” you mumbled. “you just startled me.”

he blinked, as if snapping out of whatever trance had held him. a slow, charming smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “i’m heeseung,” he said, his voice smooth and deep. “the owner of this mansion.”

“the owner?” you echoed, taken aback. “wow. i… i wasn’t expecting to meet the owner so soon.”

he smiled again, a soft, enigmatic grin that sent another wave of unease down your spine. “i like to keep close to my guests. this place… it’s very special to me.”

you tried to return his smile but faltered slightly, still unsettled by how intently he was watching you. “i’m—” you began, but before you could introduce yourself, your parents’ voices echoed down the hall.

“there you are!” your dad called, striding over to where you stood with heeseung. your mom followed closely behind, oblivious to the awkward tension in the air. “we were just getting checked in.”

you barely had time to react before your dad turned to heeseung, giving him a polite nod. “this is the owner of the mansion,” you quickly explained, introducing him. “heeseung.”

your parents seemed relieved to meet someone in charge, especially after the ordeal with the car. “oh, thank you so much for accommodating us on such short notice,” your mom said with a grateful smile. “our car broke down just outside, and we didn’t know what else to do.”

you shot a glance at your parents, your eyes widening in warning. why are they telling him that? you thought in frustration. it wasn’t exactly the kind of information you wanted to share so freely—especially not in a place like this, with a stranger who gave off such unsettling vibes.

heeseung’s smile widened at your parents’ words, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was far too pleased to hear about your vulnerability. “no need to worry,” he said smoothly, his gaze briefly flicking back to you before focusing on your parents. “i’ll make sure your car is taken care of. i’ll have it sent for repairs tonight.”

“really?” your dad sounded relieved. “that’s incredibly generous. thank you.”

heeseung waved a hand dismissively. “it’s no trouble at all. you’re my guests now.” he paused, his eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. “i’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

you swallowed hard, fighting back the gnawing sense of dread as you all started heading down the hallway. the mansion seemed to stretch on forever, with countless doors and long, winding corridors. despite the size, heeseung explained that most rooms were booked, which meant you would be in a room far from your parents.

your room was tucked away in one of the mansion’s oldest wings, a beautifully vintage suite with antique furniture and intricate wallpaper. the four-poster bed was draped in elegant, embroidered sheets, and the room was bathed in the warm, golden glow of a chandelier. it was charming, old-fashioned, and just a little too perfect. the type of room that might seem cosy under normal circumstances but felt unnervingly isolated in this mansion.

after settling in, you reached for your phone, hoping to check for updates on the car—or anything, really—but your frown deepened when you realised there were no charging ports in the room. none at all. you glanced around, frustrated, searching for a way to charge your phone, but there was nothing modern about this place. to make matters worse, your phone had no cell reception. it was like the mansion existed in its own bubble, cut off from the rest of the world.

letting out an exasperated sigh, you tossed your phone onto the nightstand. looks like you’d have to borrow your dad’s power bank later. you were exhausted, but the nagging feeling of unease wouldn’t let you relax. after changing into your nightwear, you slipped under the heavy, ornate blankets, hoping that sleep would take over soon.

but as you lay in bed, staring up at the dark canopy above, you couldn’t help but feel that something—someone—was watching you.

you lay in bed, the warmth of the heavy blankets doing little to ease the chill that seemed to settle deep in your bones. the eerie silence stretched on, the only sound the faint rustling of the curtains as a gentle breeze swept in from the cracked window. you hadn't noticed it was open before.

rolling onto your side, you glanced at your phone again. still no reception. it felt like you were completely cut off from the world, alone in this strange, sprawling mansion with no way to communicate with the outside. the feeling gnawed at you, a strange mix of frustration and unease swirling in your chest.

the longer you lay there, the more restless you became. every creak of the floorboards, every shift of the wind seemed to amplify the unsettling atmosphere around you. the chandelier overhead swayed gently, casting shifting shadows across the walls. you closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing, telling yourself it was just a normal hotel. nothing weird, nothing out of the ordinary—just a quirky, old-fashioned place.

but the image of heeseung’s face kept creeping into your mind. the way his gaze lingered on you, intense and unreadable, like he was seeing something in you that no one else did. something about him felt off, not just unsettling but almost too perfect, too polished, as if he didn’t quite belong in a place like this.

eventually, the exhaustion started to pull you toward sleep. just as your mind began to blur at the edges, a soft sound reached your ears. a whisper. faint but unmistakable. you bolted upright in bed, eyes wide, heart hammering in your chest as you strained to hear.

at first, you thought it was the wind. but no, it wasn’t coming from outside—it was closer, much closer. the sound seemed to echo from just beyond your door, like soft voices carrying on a conversation, too low for you to make out the words. your skin prickled with unease.

you pushed back the blankets and slipped out of bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floor. the mansion felt even more imposing in the darkness, the once quaint vintage charm now taking on a more sinister tone. stepping cautiously, you moved toward the door, pressing your ear against it, listening.

nothing.

the whispering had stopped.

you hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the doorknob, debating whether you should open it. it’s just your imagination, you told yourself. you’re tired. you're in a creepy place. it’s normal to feel a little on edge.

but your curiosity—and the nagging sense of something being very wrong—won out. slowly, you turned the knob, the door creaking as it swung open into the dark hallway. the air was colder out here, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible scent of something sweet—like roses that had been left too long in the vase, just starting to wilt.

the hallway stretched out in both directions, the same eerie silence blanketing the mansion. no voices, no footsteps. nothing. but your eyes caught on something—the flickering light at the far end of the hall. the soft glow of a single candle, perched on a small table near one of the old-fashioned sitting areas.

you frowned. that candle hadn’t been lit earlier.

carefully, you padded down the hallway toward the light. as you got closer, you noticed something strange—the candle’s flame wasn’t moving. it stayed perfectly still, not even flickering despite the faint breeze you felt coming from the windows. it was almost like it wasn’t real.

just as you were about to reach it, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

you gasped, taking a step back, but quickly realised who it was.

heeseung stood before you, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the hallway. his suit was immaculate as before, not a single wrinkle out of place, and his expression was calm—too calm. he smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, though it sent a shiver down your spine.

you hesitated, your mind racing with questions. why was he here? why wasn’t there anyone else around? but instead, you forced a tight smile, trying to appear composed. “yeah, i guess… this place is just a little unsettling.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his gaze once again holding that unnerving intensity. “you’re not the first to say that. old places like this tend to… hold onto things. memories. feelings.” his words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken meaning.

you swallowed, the unease bubbling up again. “it’s just… weird that there’s no one else around. for such a big hotel, it’s completely empty.”

heeseung’s smile widened, but there was something off about it. “most guests prefer the quiet. it allows them to reflect, to... feel things they’ve long forgotten.”

there it was again—that cryptic, almost too-perfect way of speaking. it made your skin crawl.

“well,” you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended, “i think i’ll head back to my room now. it’s late.”

as you turned to leave, heeseung reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. the contact sent a jolt through you, though his touch was oddly cold. you froze, glancing back at him.

“there’s no need to be afraid,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re safe here. i’ll make sure of it.”

the way he said those words—like a promise—sent another shiver down your spine. you forced a nod, pulling your arm away gently and stepping back. “thanks,” you mumbled, backing away from him.

heeseung watched you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable before he finally stepped aside, allowing you to retreat to your room.

once you were safely inside, you shut the door firmly behind you, heart still pounding in your chest. the mansion was far too quiet again, but this time it felt suffocating. something wasn’t right here, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

you climbed back into bed, but sleep didn’t come easily. every sound, every shadow seemed to hold something sinister. and you couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, in this sprawling, empty mansion, heeseung was watching. waiting.

the next morning, you were roused from sleep by a soft knock at your door. groggy and still heavy with sleep, you sat up, rubbing your eyes as the knocking continued, more insistent this time.

“coming,” you mumbled, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. you padded across the room, and when you opened the door, you found your mom standing there, a tired smile on her face.

“good morning, honey. they’ve called us for breakfast downstairs,” she said, her voice chipper despite the early hour. “you should hurry and get ready. we don’t want to be late.”

you nodded, stifling a yawn. “okay, i’ll be down in a minute.”

she gave you a small smile and headed back down the hallway. you shut the door and took a moment to shake off the lingering unease from the night before. the encounter with heeseung had left a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, and the mansion’s eerie stillness hadn’t done much to help. but this morning was different, right? it was daylight now, and everything felt less intimidating in the warm morning light streaming through the window.

you quickly got dressed, choosing something comfortable yet presentable. once you were ready, you stepped out into the hallway, glancing left and right. your mom hadn’t mentioned where the dining hall was, and you realised you had no idea how to find it. the mansion’s labyrinthine corridors all looked the same—long stretches of dark wood panelling and ornate furniture that seemed to belong to a different century.

with a sigh, you started walking, hoping you’d stumble upon it. as you rounded a corner, you nearly bumped into someone. you gasped, pulling back just in time, and looked up to find heeseung standing before you, a charming smile on his face.

“good morning,” he said, his voice smooth and soft. “i see you’re trying to find your way to breakfast?”

you nodded, trying to keep your tone neutral. “yeah, i’m not sure where the dining hall is.”

heeseung’s smile widened slightly. “no problem. i’m heading there myself. we can go together.”

you hesitated for a moment but nodded, falling into step beside him as he led the way. the hallway felt even longer with him by your side, his presence both unsettling and magnetic. he walked with an easy grace, like he belonged in a place like this, and yet something about him still made your skin prickle with unease.

“so,” he began after a few moments of silence, “you mentioned last night that you’re on a family vacation? that sounds lovely.”

you nodded, keeping your answers short. “yeah, just a road trip before i leave for university.”

“ah, university. where are you headed?”

“exchange program. i’ll be gone for two years,” you answered curtly, trying not to give too much away.

heeseung hummed thoughtfully. “that’s quite a long time. your parents must be proud—and a bit sad, i imagine.”

you shrugged, glancing away. “i guess.”

he let the silence stretch for a moment, and you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in that same intense way he had the night before. it was like he was trying to figure you out, peel back layers you didn’t even know you had. you kept your gaze forward, determined not to let him get under your skin.

finally, you reached the dining hall. heeseung pushed open the large double doors, and you stepped inside, immediately taking in the scene. the room was vast, grand in an old-world kind of way, with high ceilings and walls lined with towering windows draped in heavy velvet curtains. a long dining table dominated the centre of the room, stretching almost the entire length of the hall. the table was covered with a pristine white cloth, and an array of silverware was laid out with meticulous precision.

but what struck you most was how empty it was.

apart from your parents, who sat at one end of the long table, there was no one else. the chairs were all perfectly arranged, as if waiting for guests who had yet to arrive. but the eerie thing was, it felt like no one would arrive. the silence in the room only amplified the emptiness.

you frowned, glancing over at heeseung as he escorted you to the table. “where is everyone?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. “this place is huge, but... it’s like there’s no one else here.”

heeseung’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—something almost too quick to catch. “most of our guests prefer to have breakfast very early,” he explained smoothly. “they’re probably already off enjoying the grounds or have checked out. i typically have my breakfast after the guests. but since you’re a bit late this morning, i thought it would be nice to join you.”

you stared at him for a moment, trying to read between the lines of his carefully chosen words. it didn’t quite add up. the mansion had felt empty from the moment you’d arrived, and now, seeing this massive dining hall with only your family in it, that feeling only intensified. still, you didn’t press further. instead, you forced a small smile and nodded, going along with his explanation for now.

your parents, seemingly unaware of the strange atmosphere, smiled as you took a seat next to them. “this place is incredible, isn’t it?” your mom said, her eyes sparkling as she looked around the room. “i can’t believe how lucky we were to find it.”

you tried to match her enthusiasm, but something about this whole situation still felt off. the room, the empty table, heeseung’s unsettling politeness—it all gnawed at the back of your mind, a whisper of warning you couldn’t quite shake.

breakfast was laid out in a lavish spread, far more than the three of you could possibly eat. there were plates of fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and other delicacies you couldn’t even name. everything was prepared with a level of care and detail that felt almost excessive. you glanced at heeseung, who sat at the head of the table, watching your family with that same, unreadable smile.

he gestured toward the food. “please, help yourselves. i had the chef prepare a little bit of everything.”

your dad wasted no time digging in, clearly impressed by the spread. your mom followed suit, smiling warmly at heeseung as she complimented the food. you, on the other hand, hesitated, your appetite dulled by the nagging sense of something not quite right.

as you picked at your plate, you caught heeseung’s eyes on you again, his gaze sharp, studying, as if waiting for something. the way he watched you—so intently—made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite the empty chairs, the empty mansion, you weren’t alone.

as you carefully picked at your food, trying to ignore the unnerving atmosphere, your dad set down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. he turned to heeseung with a casual smile, though you could see the underlying hint of concern in his eyes.

“so,” your dad began, “any idea how long it’ll take for the car to be repaired? we’d like to get back on the road as soon as possible.”

heeseung, ever the picture of politeness, gave a reassuring smile, leaning back in his chair with ease. “not to worry, sir. the mechanic i contacted is very efficient. the car should be ready by this afternoon, if not sooner. you’ll be on your way in no time.”

your dad seemed relieved, nodding. “that’s great to hear. we were worried we’d be stuck out here for too long.”

heeseung’s smile widened slightly, though there was a strange glint in his eyes as he said, “we’d never dream of keeping you longer than necessary. but please, take your time enjoying our hospitality.”

you glanced up at him, something about his choice of words sending a ripple of discomfort through you. there was something about the way he spoke, always so measured, so... calculated. it was as if every word was carefully chosen for some hidden purpose. you couldn’t help but wonder what he really meant by that.

your parents finished their meals before you and heeseung, having arrived earlier to start breakfast. as they wiped their hands and prepared to stand, sunoo appeared at the door. his arrival was quiet, almost too quiet, and you hadn’t noticed him until he stepped into the room. he was dressed just as impeccably as before, his tuxedo crisp and perfect, but there was something off about his overly cheerful demeanour.

“if you’d like,” sunoo began, his eyes bright and a bit too wide, “i’d be happy to give you a tour of the gardens while you wait for the car. they’re lovely this time of year.”

your mom’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “oh, that sounds wonderful! what do you think, dear?” she asked your dad, who nodded in agreement.

“sure, why not? it’ll be nice to stretch our legs a bit.”

you watched as your parents exchanged smiles with sunoo, who beckoned them toward the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm. but your heart sank as you realised what this meant—your parents were leaving, and you were about to be left alone with heeseung.

before you could even offer to join them, sunoo ushered them out of the dining hall with a smile. “we’ll take our time, don’t worry! you two enjoy the rest of your breakfast.”

the door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving you sitting at the grand dining table, the echo of their footsteps fading into the distance.

and then it was just you.

and heeseung.

the silence stretched between you like a chasm, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. you tried to focus on your food, but the air felt thicker now, charged with an unsettling energy that made it hard to swallow. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you again with that same, intense scrutiny that had left you uneasy from the moment you arrived.

you kept your gaze fixed on your plate, hoping that if you didn’t look at him, he might just lose interest. but you could still sense his presence, feel the way his attention never wavered.

“you’re not eating much,” heeseung remarked, breaking the silence, his voice smooth and deceptively casual. “is the food not to your liking?”

his tone was polite, but there was a subtle edge to it that made you feel like the wrong answer could mean something more than just criticism. you forced a small smile, shaking your head.

“no, it’s fine. i’m just not that hungry.”

heeseung leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. “you seem... uncomfortable,” he said softly, his words hanging in the air. “is something bothering you?”

your pulse quickened. the way he asked the question, so calm and controlled, made you feel like he already knew the answer. like he was testing you, waiting to see how you’d respond. you didn’t want to give him any more reason to focus on you than he already had.

“no,” you replied, your voice a little too quick. “it’s just... a lot to take in. this place is... different.”

heeseung’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “different can be good,” he said, his eyes glittering with something you couldn’t quite place. “sometimes it’s the unexpected that makes an experience truly memorable.”

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the strange tension between you growing heavier by the second. there was something almost predatory in the way he watched you, like he was waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

“i suppose,” you muttered, pushing your food around your plate. “i guess i’m just not used to places like this.”

heeseung chuckled softly, the sound low and almost dangerous. “not many people are.”

another silence fell between you, thick and uncomfortable. you could hear the faint ticking of a distant clock, the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. you glanced toward the door, half-hoping sunoo and your parents would return sooner rather than later, but there was no sign of them.

heeseung’s voice interrupted your thoughts, his tone soft but insistent. “you didn’t seem very interested in the history of the mansion last night,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on you. “but if you’d like, i could tell you a little more about it now. it has... quite the past.”

your throat tightened at his words. part of you wanted to refuse, to keep the conversation as shallow and short as possible, but another part of you couldn’t help but be curious. what kind of history could a place like this have? why did it feel like there was something dark lurking beneath the surface?

you hesitated, your fingers gripping your fork a little too tightly. “sure,” you said quietly, against your better judgement. “i’d like to hear about it.”

heeseung’s smile widened, a slow, almost sinister curl to his lips as he leaned forward again, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous kind of interest.

“good,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “because there’s so much for you to learn.”

heeseung’s words seemed to echo in the cavernous dining hall, each syllable hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on your chest. you shifted in your seat, suddenly aware of how isolated you were from everyone else. your parents were somewhere outside, wandering the sprawling gardens with sunoo, oblivious to the tension brewing in this room. and you were here—alone with heeseung, who was studying you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

he leaned back in his chair, a slow, deliberate movement, his eyes never leaving yours. “this mansion has a long history,” he began, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “it’s been standing for centuries, long before this area became what it is now.”

you swallowed, trying to keep your unease from showing. “centuries? that’s... impressive.”

heeseung nodded, his fingers tracing the edge of his plate in a casual, almost absent-minded way. “impressive, yes. but also... haunted by its past.” his eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite place. “you see, many who come here find themselves drawn in by the allure of the unknown. they come seeking something different, something unique. and often, they find more than they bargained for.”

you felt a chill run down your spine. the way he spoke—so calm, so composed—made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. it was as if he was telling you a story he had told many times before, one with a punchline you wouldn’t like.

“what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice quiet but firm. you didn’t want to seem rattled, even though you were starting to feel like the walls were closing in around you.

heeseung’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “let’s just say this mansion has a way of revealing things... about the people who stay here. things they may not even realise about themselves.”

your pulse quickened. “that sounds a little ominous.”

heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and unsettling. “it’s not meant to be. it’s just... the nature of this place. it has a way of bringing the truth to the surface. you’ll see, in time.”

you didn’t like the way he said that, as if you were going to be here long enough for the mansion to work its mysterious magic on you. you were only supposed to stay until the car was fixed, and then you and your family would be gone. the thought of staying here any longer than necessary made your stomach churn.

“i don’t think we’ll be here long enough for that,” you said, forcing a small smile.

heeseung’s eyes flashed with something—disappointment? amusement? it was hard to tell. “you never know,” he said quietly, his gaze intense. “sometimes, plans change.”

you glanced away, focusing on your barely touched plate. the food that had once looked so appealing now seemed like a burden, something you had no appetite for. you just wanted this conversation to end, to find your parents and get out of this place as soon as possible.

as if sensing your discomfort, heeseung leaned back again, his demeanour shifting ever so slightly. “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, though there was a glint in his eyes that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. “it’s just that... guests here tend to stay longer than they anticipate. this place has a way of... captivating people.”

the word captivating sounded too much like trapping for your liking.

before you could respond, the door to the dining hall creaked open, and you breathed a silent sigh of relief as your parents entered, laughing and chatting with sunoo, who was still wearing his unsettlingly bright smile. their carefree demeanour was such a stark contrast to the tension you’d been feeling that it almost made you dizzy.

“sweetie, you should see the gardens!” your mom exclaimed as she approached the table, oblivious to the undercurrent of unease between you and heeseung. “they’re absolutely gorgeous. i’ve never seen anything like it.”

your dad nodded in agreement, beaming. “it’s like something out of a storybook.”

you forced a smile, trying to match their enthusiasm. “that’s great. i’m glad you had fun.”

sunoo’s eyes flicked to heeseung for a brief moment, something unspoken passing between them, and then he turned his bright gaze back to your family. “i’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to explore the rest of the estate before you leave.”

you stiffened at his words, catching the subtle implication. you weren’t leaving any time soon.

heeseung stood then, smoothing down the front of his suit, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat too long before he addressed your parents. “i’ve arranged for the mechanic to give me an update on the car shortly. in the meantime, please, make yourselves comfortable. feel free to explore the mansion further if you’d like.”

your parents seemed delighted by the prospect, but you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this place was trying to keep you here, that every step you took deeper into the mansion only tangled you further in its web.

heeseung’s gaze slid back to you, his smile as charming and unsettling as ever. “i’ll make sure everything is taken care of. don’t worry.”

but worry was all you could feel as your family began to follow sunoo out of the dining hall, leaving you to trail behind, your thoughts spinning. as you exited the room, you couldn’t help but glance back at heeseung, who stood by the door, watching you with that same piercing gaze.

there was something about the way he looked at you—something that made you feel like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

and you weren’t sure if you could escape.

the afternoon dragged on in an unbearable haze of waiting. you, your parents, and heeseung sat in the grand living room, the heavy silence punctuated only by the occasional ticking of an old grandfather clock in the corner. outside, the sky had darkened, heavy clouds looming like a bad omen. the only thing on your mind was the car—where it was, how much longer it would take, and when you could finally leave this unsettling mansion behind.

your parents seemed more at ease, happily sipping tea that sunoo had prepared earlier, oblivious to the undercurrent of unease that rippled beneath the surface of every interaction with heeseung. you, on the other hand, were fidgeting, your leg bouncing nervously as you tried to avoid catching heeseung’s gaze. he had been watching you ever since you mentioned the car, his expression growing darker, his easy charm slipping.

“you seem quite eager to leave,” heeseung finally said, breaking the silence. his voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, something cold hidden beneath the surface.

you glanced up at him, forcing a tight smile. “well, we have to get to our resort, and we’ve already spent a lot of time here. i’d hate to miss out on more of the trip.”

heeseung’s lips twitched, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “you don’t like it here?”

there was something almost accusatory in his tone, and it made your skin prickle. you hesitated, not wanting to offend him but unable to shake the growing feeling of unease that seemed to cling to the walls of this place.

“it’s not that,” you said carefully, shifting in your seat. “it’s just that we had plans. you know, a family bonding trip. and... well, we’ve been here longer than we expected.”

heeseung’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression unreadable. “plans change,” he said softly, his eyes narrowing just the slightest bit. “sometimes, staying a little longer can be... beneficial.”

a cold shiver ran down your spine at his words. the way he said it felt off, as if there was something deeper he wasn’t saying, something he didn’t want you to understand just yet. you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, and sunoo appeared, running into the room with a frantic expression.

“heeseung!” sunoo called out breathlessly, his usual cheery demeanour replaced with genuine concern. “there’s a storm! a really bad one. the roads are flooding, and the mechanic just called—he can’t bring the car back today.”

your heart sank at his words, and you shot a glance at your parents, who exchanged a look of resignation.

your father sighed, rubbing his temples. “well, i guess we’re not going anywhere today.”

your mother nodded in agreement, placing her teacup down with a little clink. “we’ll have to stay another night, then. there’s nothing we can do about it.”

you could hardly believe it. you were so close to leaving, so close to getting out of this place, and now a storm? it felt too convenient, too well-timed. you turned to heeseung, expecting some kind of reaction, and you weren’t disappointed. he was smiling again—but this time, it was different. it wasn’t the charming, polished smile he had worn before. this one was darker, more predatory. his eyes glinted with something that made your stomach twist.

“i suppose that settles it,” heeseung said smoothly, his voice like silk. “looks like you’ll be our guests for another night.”

his words sent a wave of discomfort rolling through you, and you felt your throat tighten. you looked away, staring out the window as the rain began to pour in heavy sheets, the dark sky flashing occasionally with streaks of lightning. the storm outside felt like a reflection of the storm brewing within you.

“i’m sure the car will be ready first thing tomorrow,” your father said, ever the optimist, though his voice carried a tinge of doubt.

sunoo nodded enthusiastically, stepping forward with his usual bright smile. “of course! we’ll make sure everything is perfect for you until then. don’t worry!”

you wanted to scream. how could no one else feel what you were feeling? how could your parents be so at ease when everything about this situation screamed danger? the mansion, the people, the timing of the storm—it all felt like a trap closing in around you.

heeseung’s eyes flicked toward you again, and you caught the smirk curling at the corner of his lips. he knew. he knew how unsettled you were, how desperately you wanted to leave, and he was relishing it.

“please, make yourselves comfortable,” heeseung said, his gaze locking onto you as he stood up from his seat. “we have plenty of time to enjoy the rest of your stay. after all, it’s not every day you get to experience a place like this.”

his words felt like a warning, a reminder that you were stuck here, and you had no choice but to play along with whatever game he was setting up. you forced a smile, feeling your pulse quicken.

“great,” you muttered under your breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. but heeseung did. his eyes flashed with amusement, and he gave you a slow, knowing smile that made your skin crawl.

“don’t worry,” he said in a voice so low only you could hear. “you’ll be safe here.”

the way he said it made you doubt every word.

that evening, the mansion’s eerie atmosphere feels heavier on your shoulders than ever. as the storm rages outside, you find yourself wandering through the darkened hallways, trying to shake off the strange feeling heeseung left you with earlier. something about his cryptic words keeps circling back in your mind, making it impossible to relax. you run your fingers along the old wooden bannister as you walk, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the too-quiet halls. but even that sound feels strange—the echoes don’t seem to bounce back to you the same way. it’s almost like they fade into the walls, swallowed by the house.

you pause as you notice a clock hanging on the wall ahead. the second hand ticks steadily, but when you glance at another clock just around the corner, you feel your skin prickle. the second hand on that clock is moving faster—much faster. you stand frozen, watching the two clocks run at different speeds, as if time itself is slipping out of sync.

the light overhead flickers, and you feel a chill run down your spine. the mansion is still as beautiful as it is unsettling, but tonight, it seems to be shifting in subtle ways. you walk further down the hallway, but something feels… wrong. the layout doesn’t seem quite right, as if the corridor you just passed should have been longer or led somewhere else entirely. you shake off the feeling, convincing yourself that it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you in this old, dimly lit place.

whispers. 

you swear you hear them. at first, you think it might just be the wind rattling through the old windows, but the sound is too human—too hushed, like voices speaking just outside the range of your hearing. you spin around, expecting to find someone behind you, but there’s nothing. just shadows dancing along the walls, moving ever so slightly as the flickering light fights to keep them at bay.

your pulse quickens as you walk on, drawn down a side corridor you’re sure you haven’t been down before. the walls here are different—more elaborate, with heavy drapery and intricate mouldings. at the end of the hallway, you come to a door. something about it makes you pause. you reach for the brass doorknob, your fingers brushing against the cold metal, and a shiver runs through you.

when you open it, a wave of familiarity washes over you, hitting you like a forgotten memory. inside, the room is dimly lit, filled with old-fashioned furniture that feels like it belongs to a different era—plush chairs, wooden tables with detailed carvings, and an antique music box sitting on a dresser. the air smells faintly of dust and something sweet, like old perfume that’s been lingering for years.

your eyes fall on the music box. it’s small, delicate, with intricate designs etched into its surface. without thinking, you step forward and reach out, fingers brushing lightly against it. before you can even wind the mechanism, it begins playing on its own, the soft, haunting melody filling the room.

your breath catches in your throat as that eerie sense of déjà vu tightens its grip on you. the tune is familiar—so familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve heard it before. it pulls at something deep within you, like a forgotten dream just out of reach. you’re transfixed, unable to pull away from the music, when suddenly, the door creaks behind you.

you whip around, and your heart skips a beat when you see heeseung standing in the doorway. his expression is unreadable, but there’s a coldness in his eyes that sends a shiver through you. he steps into the room, his presence filling the space, and the music stops abruptly, as if the mansion itself is responding to him.

“what are you doing here?” his voice is stern, not the smooth charm you’ve come to expect from him. there’s an edge to it that makes you take a step back.

“i—i was just looking around,” you stammer, feeling like a child caught snooping where they shouldn’t be. the weight of his gaze presses down on you as he moves closer.

“this is my study,” he says, his tone low and controlled, but you can hear the warning in his voice. “you’re not supposed to be in here.”

you feel a flush of embarrassment and unease wash over you. “i didn’t know… i just—”

“didn’t know?” heeseung cuts you off, raising an eyebrow as his eyes narrow. “or were you curious about what you’d find?”

the tension between you feels thick, almost suffocating. heeseung’s gaze is unwavering, as though he’s trying to read your every thought, his earlier charm replaced with something far more dangerous. you feel like you’ve crossed a line—one that you didn’t even know existed until now.

heeseung’s intense gaze softens slightly as he notices the way your face flushes with embarrassment. his lips part, as if he’s about to say something harsh, but then, as if catching himself, he lets out a sigh. the coldness in his eyes melts away, replaced by that familiar, smooth charm.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his voice lowering, smoothing over like silk. “why don’t i show you the library instead? i think you’ll find it... interesting.”

you hesitate, still rattled by the sharpness of his previous tone. something inside you whispers to be careful, to keep your distance. but the magnetic pull of heeseung’s presence is hard to resist, and despite your instincts, you find yourself nodding.

heeseung smiles faintly, though his expression remains unreadable. he gestures for you to follow him, and together, you walk down the dimly lit corridors of the mansion. the silence is unsettling, broken only by the soft shuffling of your footsteps against the creaky wooden floors. you can’t help but feel like the walls themselves are watching you, the weight of the mansion pressing in from all sides.

as you walk, you become aware of how time feels... off. the clocks you pass seem to tick irregularly, some faster, some slower, as though they belong to different realities entirely. the light filtering through the tall windows is dim, though it doesn’t seem like it’s evening yet. you glance back, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as if something—someone—is just out of sight.

you stumble over a loose tile, your thoughts breaking apart. with a yelp, you trip forward, bracing yourself for a fall. but before you hit the floor, strong hands catch you—heeseung, steadying you with effortless ease. his grip is firm but strangely gentle. you gasp, heart hammering in your chest as you realise how close he is.

“you should be more careful,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, a hint of amusement playing at the edges of his voice.

“thanks,” you mutter, flustered as you quickly pull away from his touch. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you avoid his gaze as he releases you, his soft chuckle following you down the hall.

the library is massive, far larger than you anticipated. the shelves seem to stretch endlessly, filled with books of every size and colour, their spines gleaming under the warm light of chandeliers. the space feels grand and intimate all at once, the kind of place that would normally make you feel at ease, but here... something feels different.

heeseung watches you carefully, his dark eyes studying your every move. you glance at him for permission before running your fingers along the spines of the books, your curiosity getting the better of you. with a nod, he gives you his approval, and you can’t help but dart forward, eager to explore the room further.

you lose yourself in the rows of shelves, marvelling at the collection of novels, old tomes, and handwritten manuscripts that line the walls. the air smells of dust and aged paper, steeped in centuries of history. you glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see heeseung watching you, but he remains a respectful distance away, his gaze soft and almost fond as he follows your movements.

but something feels... off. as you drift deeper into the library, a strange sensation pulls at your mind, as if something is guiding you, drawing you toward a particular section. without thinking, you find yourself moving toward the back, where the older, dustier books are kept.

your fingertips brush across the spines of these ancient tomes, and an eerie sense of déjà vu washes over you. there’s something about this place—this corner of the library—that feels unsettlingly familiar, like you’ve been here before in another time. the hairs on your arms stand on end, and you shiver involuntarily.

just as your fingers graze the spine of a particularly worn book, you feel it—the presence behind you. heeseung.

you turn slowly to find him standing there, his expression unreadable, but there’s a dark intensity in his eyes that makes your breath catch. he takes a step toward you, and without realising it, you step back, your shoulders hitting the bookshelf behind you.

his eyes remain locked on yours, his proximity making it hard to think clearly. there’s no anger in his gaze now, just that familiar magnetic pull—like he’s trying to draw you closer, to see through you.

“you’re curious, aren’t you?” his voice is barely above a whisper, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

you swallow, trying to push back the fear creeping into your chest. “about what?”

“about this place. about me,” he replies, his tone smooth, almost teasing.

his eyes seem to darken as he takes another step forward, closing the distance between you. the heat of his body presses in on you, and you feel your pulse quicken as his fingers trail lightly along the bookshelf beside your head. heeseung’s smile sharpens, a predatory glint flashing in his gaze.

“curiosity can be dangerous,” he murmurs, his voice low and intoxicating. “you never know what you might uncover if you start digging too deep.”

his words hang in the air, a challenge laced with something far more sinister. your heart pounds in your chest, torn between the urge to escape and the overwhelming draw of his presence. you can feel his breath against your skin, his closeness making it hard to think, to breathe.

for a moment, neither of you speak. his gaze flickers to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you can sense the power he holds in this place—like he knows far more than he’s letting on. like he’s been waiting for you to find something... or for you to lose yourself completely.

you break the silence, your voice shaking slightly. “what do you want from me?”

heeseung smiles, though it’s a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. “maybe the question is... what do you want from me?”

the uneasy chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it. "you’re being ridiculous," you say, forcing more confidence into your voice than you actually feel. you try to shake off the tension hanging between you, hoping to laugh this off like it’s some strange dream.

but heeseung’s expression doesn’t change. he merely raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into the barest hint of a smirk. "very well then," he murmurs, his voice calm and unbothered, as though he knows something you don’t.

for a moment, you’re not sure whether you’ve defused the situation or walked deeper into it, but heeseung steps away, the heavy tension between you seeming to dissipate with each step he takes toward the door. he gestures with a small bow. "i’ll leave you to your evening, then."

you nod quickly, not trusting your voice to say anything that won’t betray the swirl of confusion and unease knotting in your chest. with that, heeseung disappears into the corridor, leaving you alone in the vast library. the silence is thick, almost oppressive, as if the mansion itself is holding its breath.

when you finally leave the library, your mind is buzzing. the conversation with heeseung, though cryptic, has left you more rattled than ever. his words, the way he watched you—there’s something deeper here, something you’re only starting to scratch the surface of. but, for now, you decide to push it aside. you need to clear your head.

by the time dinner rolls around, you’re feeling on edge. your parents are already seated at the dining table, chatting quietly as you join them. the room is dimly lit, casting long shadows across the grand, empty space. it feels strange—eerily quiet without the other guests.

you glance around, frowning. “where’s heeseung? and the other guests?”

sunoo, who’s been silently setting the table, looks up at you with his usual cheery smile. "ah, i’m afraid the other guests have already had their meal earlier. heeseung sends his apologies—he’s been caught up in some... urgent business.”

it’s the same excuse they keep giving you, and each time it feels less believable. you open your mouth to press further, but before you can say anything, your mother cuts in with a light laugh. “honestly, you’re always so curious, darling. just let it go.”

her words sound playful, but there’s an odd edge to them, as if she’s brushing off your concerns without really thinking about them. you glance at your father, hoping for some support, but he just nods in agreement, distracted as he stirs his soup.

you bite your lip, trying to push down the growing frustration. why aren’t they worried? can’t they sense that something’s off here?

dinner passes in a strange blur, the silence at the table broken only by the clinking of silverware. sunoo continues to move about the room like nothing is wrong, but the more you watch him, the more something about him feels... rehearsed, like he’s going through the motions of being normal without actually feeling any of it.

after the meal, you head back to your room, feeling more unsettled than ever. your parents’ strange behaviour, the missing guests, heeseung’s cryptic words—it’s all starting to feel like pieces of a puzzle you can’t quite put together.

that night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. every creak of the floorboards, every faint whisper of the wind outside sends your nerves into overdrive. the mansion seems to come alive in the darkness, its walls groaning, floors shifting, as though it’s trying to speak to you—trying to tell you something.

you sit up, your heart pounding in your chest. there’s no way you’re getting any sleep tonight, not with this strange energy crackling around you. something is wrong with this place, and you need to figure it out.

quietly, you slip out of bed, careful not to make any noise as you tiptoe toward the door. the hallways are dimly lit, the chandeliers casting long, ghostly shadows against the walls. you pause for a moment, listening to the silence, and then make your way through the mansion, your footsteps soft on the old, creaky floors.

as you wander, something strange begins to happen. the air feels colder, heavier, and the walls seem to shift subtly, as though the layout of the mansion itself is changing. you turn down a corridor you don’t remember seeing before and find yourself in front of a door, slightly ajar, that you swear wasn’t there earlier.

your hand trembles as you push the door open.

inside, the room is dimly lit by a single flickering candle. it smells of dust and time, as though no one’s been here for years. but what catches your attention immediately are the photographs lining the walls—old, faded photographs in ornate frames. you step closer, squinting at the faces in the pictures.

your breath catches in your throat.

the people in these photos… they look like you. some of them even resemble your parents. the clothes are different, much older—decades, maybe centuries old—but the faces… it’s impossible. how could they look so familiar?

you take a step back, your heart racing. something about this room feels wrong, like you’ve stumbled onto something you weren’t meant to see.

your eyes scan the rest of the room, and that’s when you notice the guestbook sitting on an old wooden desk in the corner. you approach it cautiously, your fingers brushing over the brittle pages as you open it.

the names written inside are faded, barely legible from age. but as you turn the pages, one name catches your eye—your father’s name, written in the same elegant script as the others.

your heart pounds in your chest. you flip through more pages, and there’s your mother’s name, too. and then… your own.

but the dates next to the names don’t make any sense. they’re from decades ago, long before you were even born.

you slam the book shut, a chill running down your spine. this can’t be real. it doesn’t make sense.

before you can gather your thoughts, a soft creak echoes through the room. you whip around, your heart in your throat, and see a shadow flicker in the doorway.

it’s sunoo, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice soft but carrying an unsettling edge.

you freeze, unable to find the words to respond. sunoo steps further into the room, his ever-present smile feeling more like a mask than ever before.

“you shouldn’t be snooping around,” he says, his tone calm, almost soothing. “some things are better left alone.”

before you can say anything, sunoo’s eyes shift toward the guestbook in your hands. his smile falters for just a split second—barely noticeable, but enough to send a fresh wave of unease through you.

"i’ll take you back to your room,” he says, his voice steady again. “come on, it’s late.”

you don’t argue. you just nod,and follow him out of the room, feeling the weight of the mansion pressing down on you with every step.

the next morning, you wake up to the sound of heavy rain beating against the windows. groaning, you pull the covers over your head, hoping that maybe the storm has let up by now, but from the relentless sound, it’s clear that isn’t the case.

you make your way downstairs, hoping for better news, but your parents are sitting at the breakfast table, both looking completely at ease, as though the weather outside is no big deal.

“good morning, sweetheart!” your mom chirps, her voice unnaturally bright.

"morning," you mumble, taking a seat as you glance toward the large windows in the dining room. the sky is a swirling mess of dark clouds, rain pouring down so hard you can barely see the surrounding grounds.

“storm’s not going anywhere for the next few days,” your dad says casually, stirring his coffee. “looks like we’re stuck here for a bit longer.”

you frown, a wave of frustration bubbling inside you. "what about the resort? the plans we made?"

your mom exchanges a glance with your dad, then she turns to you with a serene smile. “you know, maybe this is a sign. the resort will still be there later, and this mansion… well, it’s kind of charming in its own way, isn’t it? why not just enjoy it?”

you stare at her, incredulous. "you want to stay here?"

“it’s vintage, classy, and we’re already settled in. it feels… perfect, in a way,” your mother continues, her voice light but with an unsettling certainty. “it’s like we were meant to be here.”

something about the way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. you’ve been feeling like you weren’t supposed to be here at all—like you’ve stumbled into a trap you can’t escape. but looking at your parents’ relaxed faces, they clearly don’t share your unease.

you sigh, rubbing your temples. “fine. i guess we’re staying.”

it’s not like you have a choice anyway. the storm doesn’t seem like it’s stopping anytime soon, and the roads would be impossible to navigate in this weather.

you wander through the mansion’s winding hallways, the silence heavy and oppressive. no matter how grand or beautiful this place is, it feels like a cage—isolated, suffocating, filled with unseen eyes and secrets buried in every corner. the tension from this morning still clings to your thoughts like a dark cloud, refusing to let you find peace.

as you turn a corner, you nearly collide with sunoo, who’s balancing a tray of ingredients. his usual brightness doesn’t fade; instead, his eyes light up as he sees you. but there’s something in his smile—something mischievous, playful, and... unsettling.

"looking bored?" he asks with that trademark grin, though his eyes seem to flicker with something deeper. "want to bake something with me?"

you hesitate, feeling an odd sensation settle in your stomach. you haven’t exactly gotten close to sunoo since you arrived here. something about him always felt a little strange, as if he’s holding back, concealing his true self behind that playful mask. but the silence of the mansion is worse than the idea of baking with someone like him.

after a beat, you nod. "yeah, okay."

sunoo's grin widens, and he leads you into the mansion’s oversized kitchen, the high ceilings and gleaming countertops almost intimidating in their grandeur. you can’t help but feel like even this space is part of the house’s deception—too perfect, too polished.

“you’re in for a treat,” sunoo says, his voice slipping into a more casual tone as he sets the tray on the counter. “i make the best cookies you’ll ever taste.”

you don’t respond, already lost in your own thoughts, trying to distract yourself from everything that's happened. the tasks of measuring and mixing are a welcome escape. sunoo chatters on as he gathers ingredients, but you only half-listen, trying to ignore the prickle of unease creeping up your spine.

as you mix the batter, sunoo’s light-hearted teasing pulls you in despite yourself. his comments, although flippant, ease some of the tension you’ve been holding, and before you realise it, you’re laughing at one of his jokes. you sneak a bit of dough when he’s not looking, and it feels almost… normal.

but then sunoo catches you, playfully swatting your hand. "hey! no cheating!" he scolds with mock seriousness.

you let out a chuckle, taking the opportunity to swipe some flour onto his cheek. "oops."

sunoo gasps, clutching his chest in exaggerated shock. "oh, you’re going to pay for that."

before you can react, he smears flour across your nose. the playful gesture sends you both into fits of laughter, the tension of the mansion temporarily lifting. for a brief moment, the world outside this kitchen—its darkness and mysteries—feels far away. the warmth of sunoo’s laughter fills the room, and you can’t help but feel yourself relax in his presence.

but then something changes.

the playfulness lingers, but when sunoo’s hand grazes your arm, wiping away some flour from your cheek, the touch lingers a little longer than it should. his fingers brush your skin lightly, and suddenly, the laughter fades into a different kind of tension. his eyes meet yours, and for the briefest second, there’s something there—something unspoken, something... charged.

you swallow hard, unsure how to respond. the lighthearted moment has turned into something else entirely, and the air between you grows thick. sunoo’s grin remains, but his gaze—intense and a little too intimate—holds you captive for a moment longer than feels safe. you’re aware of his closeness, of how different this interaction feels compared to everything else between you.

and then, just as quickly, the moment is broken.

the sensation of being watched crawls back over your skin, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you freeze, the weight of a gaze pressing heavily on you, suffocating the playful atmosphere. slowly, you turn toward the doorway.

heeseung is standing there, leaning against the doorframe with an expression that makes your blood run cold. his eyes are locked on you, darker and more intense than you’ve ever seen them. the tension in the room shifts, and it’s no longer playful—it’s dangerous.

sunoo’s posture stiffens, but his smirk doesn’t falter. if anything, he seems to relish the moment. “oh, hey heeseung,” he drawls, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “we were just having a little fun. you don’t mind, do you?”

heeseung doesn’t respond right away, his gaze flicking from you to sunoo, then back to you. his eyes are sharp, a dark possessiveness brewing behind them. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, dangerous. “i’m sure you’re keeping her... entertained.”

sunoo’s smirk widens as he steps a little closer to you, just enough to make the tension unbearable. “oh, absolutely. we make quite the team in here,” he says, his hand grazing your shoulder briefly in a gesture that feels too familiar, too intimate.

your heart races as you stand between them, caught in their unspoken battle. heeseung’s eyes darken further, his jaw clenched tightly as sunoo continues to play his game, his fingers brushing more flour off your cheek. the touch sends a jolt through you—not of comfort, but of confusion. why does this feel wrong? and why can’t you pull away?

heeseung’s calm facade cracks. he steps forward, his movements deliberate, as if every step brings him closer to an edge you can’t see. his voice, when he finally speaks, is smooth but holds a razor-sharp edge. “i think you’ve had enough fun for today.”

heeseung’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a little too long, the touch possessive. sunoo’s playful demeanour falters slightly, but he steps back with a knowing look, eyes flicking between you and heeseung.

“i guess that’s my cue,” sunoo says with a sly wink, retreating from the kitchen. but before he leaves, his gaze lingers on you one last time, and in that moment, it feels like the game is far from over.

the moment sunoo is gone, the atmosphere shifts. heeseung’s hand lingers on your arm, his fingers ghosting over your skin as he pulls you closer, his gaze locking onto yours. his touch, once soft, now feels like a cage, holding you in place as his lips curl into a dark smile.

“you shouldn’t let him get so close to you,” heeseung says softly, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you with a dark intensity. “he doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”

your pulse quickens, and you try to pull away, but heeseung’s grip tightens. his eyes are soft, but the look in them is anything but. he’s watching you like you belong to him, and the thought sends another wave of fear crashing over you.

“i…” you don’t know what to say. you’re caught between the two of them, between the strange camaraderie they share and the way heeseung’s mood shifts on a knife’s edge.

heeseung leans closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers, “you should only trust me. i’m the one who cares about you.”

the words send a chill through you, and yet… you can’t pull away.

heeseung’s hand remains on your arm, his touch gentle but firm as he leads you out of the kitchen. his earlier tension has shifted into something more deliberate, more focused, and you can’t shake the feeling that he’s leading you somewhere for a reason—one that you’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face.

“there’s a better way to pass the time,” he murmurs, his voice low as he glances at you from the corner of his eye. there’s something unreadable in his gaze, a dark glimmer of emotion that both unnerves and draws you in.

you don’t respond, your mind still spinning from the earlier interaction with sunoo, from the way heeseung had claimed your attention so completely. now, as he leads you down another unfamiliar hallway, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking deeper into something—into the very heart of the mansion’s secrets.

eventually, you reach a door at the end of the corridor, and heeseung pushes it open with a soft creak. the room beyond takes your breath away.

it’s elegant, grand in a way that feels both timeless and dreamlike. a grand piano sits in the centre, its polished surface gleaming under the light streaming in from a gigantic window. the window offers a perfect view of the garden outside, which—despite the ongoing storm—seems eerily peaceful, the flowers swaying gently as though untouched by the chaos in the sky.

you step inside, your feet moving almost of their own accord. the air in here feels different, thick with something unnameable. as you look around, that familiar feeling of déjà vu washes over you again, stronger this time. you’ve been here before—or at least, it feels like you have.

heeseung watches you closely, his dark eyes following your every movement. there’s something in his gaze—something that flickers between hunger and sorrow, desperation and longing. it’s as if he’s waiting for you to remember something important, something crucial.

without a word, he sits down at the piano. his fingers brush lightly over the keys, and after a brief moment of silence, he begins to play.

the melody is soft at first, gentle and haunting, and yet… you know it. somehow, impossibly, you recognize the tune even though you’ve never heard it before. the notes seem to pull at something deep inside you, stirring emotions you can’t explain.

as heeseung plays, his gaze never leaves you. his eyes are dark, intense, filled with a pain that tugs at your heart. but behind that pain, there’s something else—something dangerous, something that feels like it’s pulling you toward him, binding you to him in ways you can’t understand.

the music swells, filling the room with a haunting beauty that leaves you breathless. your chest tightens, and before you realise what’s happening, you feel tears streaming down your face. your body moves on its own, your feet carrying you across the room toward heeseung.

you stop in front of him, your vision blurred with tears. gently, almost instinctively, you reach out and place your hand on his cheek. his skin is warm under your touch, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, leaning into your hand as if savouring the contact.

the final note of the melody lingers in the air, and heeseung’s fingers are still on the keys. the silence that follows feels thick, heavy with unspoken words and unasked questions.

you gasp, suddenly realising what you’re doing. you pull your hand away from his face, stepping back as if you’ve crossed an invisible line. your heart pounds in your chest, your mind swirling with confusion.

“i—i’m sorry,” you stammer, wiping at your tears. “i don’t know what came over me.”

heeseung opens his eyes slowly, and when he looks at you, there’s a sadness there so profound it makes your heart ache. he doesn’t speak for a long moment, simply watching you as though waiting for you to understand something.

you take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “what is this place, heeseung? why… why does it feel like i’ve been here before?”

his expression darkens, his gaze growing distant as if he’s wrestling with something inside himself. for a moment, you think he’s going to deflect your questions like he always does, but then, to your surprise, he speaks.

“this mansion,” he begins, his voice low and almost resigned, “is not what it seems.”

your blood runs cold at his words, and you feel a chill creep up your spine.

“what do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

heeseung rises from the piano bench, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. there’s something predatory in the way he moves, but there’s also a deep sadness in his eyes, as though he’s weighed down by centuries of pain.

“this place…” he says quietly, glancing around the room. “it has a way of trapping those who stay too long. the walls, the halls—they shift, they change, and time here doesn’t flow the way it should.”

your mind races as you process his words. “trapping? how?”

heeseung’s gaze locks with yours, his expression unreadable. “the mansion is alive in its own way. it feeds off the presence of those who come here, twisting their reality until they can no longer leave.”

you take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “are you saying… we’re trapped?”

heeseung’s jaw tightens, and he looks away, his hands clenched at his sides. “yes,” he says softly. “but you… you’re different.”

“different?” you echo, confusion swirling in your mind. “what do you mean?”

heeseung steps closer, his eyes filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. “the mansion brought you here for a reason. it’s not a coincidence that you ended up at this place—it’s because of who you are.”

you shake your head, backing away from him. “what are you talking about?”

heeseung’s gaze is piercing, and his next words make your blood run cold.

“you’ve been here before,” he says, his voice low. “a long time ago.”

your heart skips a beat, and you feel a wave of nausea wash over you. “that’s impossible.”

heeseung takes another step forward, his eyes filled with desperation now. “it’s not impossible. you were here, in another time, in another life. and you were with me.”

the room feels like it’s spinning. your thoughts race as you try to make sense of his words, but nothing adds up. “you’re lying,” you whisper, but even as you say it, a part of you knows that he’s telling the truth.

“i’m not lying,” heeseung says, his voice filled with quiet sorrow. “we were together, bound to this place. and now… the mansion has brought you back to me.”

you shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “i don’t understand.”

heeseung’s expression softens, and for a moment, he looks almost vulnerable. “the mansion has a way of bringing people back, of trapping them in a cycle. i’m bound to this place, cursed to live here for eternity. and now that you’re here again…”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, but the implication hangs in the air.

you take a shaky breath, your mind reeling. “you think… you think i’m supposed to share your fate?”

heeseung looks at you with a mix of desperation and longing. “i don’t know. but i do know that this place… it won’t let you leave easily.”

the weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a chill run through you. the mansion—the strange feeling of familiarity, the way time seemed to warp—it all suddenly makes sense. you were meant to be here, drawn back into heeseung’s orbit, bound by forces far beyond your control.

but even as you grapple with the reality of it, one question burns in your mind: what are you willing to do to escape? and more importantly, are you even sure you want to?

the air between you and heeseung feels heavy after his haunting confession, a truth that lingers like a cloud over your thoughts. your heart is racing, torn between fear and an inexplicable pull towards him. his words replay in your mind, looping with eerie familiarity: you’ve been here before. with me.

it doesn’t make sense, and yet somehow, in the deep recesses of your memory, it does.

heeseung’s dark eyes soften as he steps closer to you, his previous intensity fading into something almost fragile. you expect him to push further, to lock you into his twisted truth, but instead, his posture slackens as if he’s letting go of something—some control he’s been gripping too tightly. there’s a new softness in his gaze, and it catches you off guard.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… this place, this mansion—it does things to people. to me.”

he reaches out, hesitant, as if afraid you might flinch away. but you don’t. you stand frozen, your mind still reeling. when his fingers brush against your arm, there’s a strange warmth to his touch, and you feel that pull again, that magnetic force that both terrifies and draws you to him.

"i've been trapped here for so long," he continues, his voice trembling just slightly. he sits down on the sofa by the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows on his face, highlighting the hollowness in his expression. “i don’t even know how much time has passed. decades? centuries? it all blurs together after a while.”

you remain standing, watching him closely. his earlier intensity—the predatory edge in his voice—seems to have dissolved, leaving behind someone who looks genuinely broken. his eyes drop to the floor, and for the first time since you arrived, he looks vulnerable, as though the weight of his endless existence is finally catching up to him.

“i didn’t ask for this,” heeseung says, his voice raw with emotion. “i didn’t ask to be bound here, to this place. i never wanted to be a prisoner.” he glances up at you, and in the dim light, you see something flickering in his gaze: pain, longing… regret.

your chest tightens. the mansion, the strange events, the unshakable feeling that you’ve been here before—it all swirls inside your head like a storm. but now, looking at him, sitting in front of you like this, you feel a pang of sympathy. maybe he isn’t the monster you thought he was. maybe he’s just as trapped as you are, desperate for a way out.

you find yourself stepping closer to him, your feet moving on their own. you sit down beside him, keeping a small distance, your body tense. for a long moment, neither of you speak. the only sound is the crackling of the fire, filling the room with warmth and an eerie sense of peace.

“i’m sorry,” heeseung whispers, his voice so soft it almost gets lost in the quiet. “for dragging you into this. you shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”

your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his words, and against your better judgement, you find yourself reaching out, your hand resting on his. he looks down at the contact, his eyes wide as if he didn’t expect your touch, and for a fleeting moment, he closes his eyes, savouring the warmth.

“it’s not your fault,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “none of this is your fault.”

heeseung’s eyes snap open, and he looks at you, truly looks at you, with a mix of shock and something else—something deeper. for a long time, neither of you speaks, but the silence between you feels heavy with unspoken words.

then, without warning, he lets out a shaky breath, almost a laugh, though there’s no humour in it. “i don’t know why i’m telling you all of this,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “maybe because you’re the first person i’ve seen in so long… maybe because i’ve been alone for too long.”

the sadness in his voice tugs at your heart. you can’t help but imagine what it must be like—to be stuck in this place for eternity, unable to leave, watching the world move on without you. the thought sends a chill down your spine.

“i don’t want you to be alone anymore,” you say, the words escaping your lips before you can stop them.

heeseung’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, the weight of your words hanging in the air. then, slowly, he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your arm, the touch light and hesitant, as though he’s afraid of pushing you away.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “if you stay… you’ll be trapped, just like me.”

the reality of his words hits you like a wave of cold water, but even as you register the danger, you can’t seem to pull away from him. there’s something about heeseung that draws you in, something that makes you want to help him, even if it means risking yourself.

“i’m not afraid,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know why, but i feel like… like i know you. like we’ve been through this before.”

heeseung’s breath catches, and for a moment, he looks at you with such intensity that it takes your breath away. then, without a word, he reaches for your hand, holding it tightly as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

“i wish it could be different,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet desperation. “i wish i could let you go, but… i can’t.”

the next few days pass in a blur of quiet moments shared between you and heeseung. there’s an unspoken understanding that neither of you fully addresses—the haunting truth of the mansion and its curse—but in these days, heeseung’s vulnerability and warmth seem genuine. the dark edges of his earlier intensity have softened, leaving you with the version of him that feels...safe.

each evening, the two of you sit together by the grand fireplace in the main hall, the warmth of the flames casting a golden glow over heeseung’s features. the way he speaks to you during these moments is intimate, his voice low and soothing. he shares bits and pieces of his past—not the dark, twisted parts, but memories of beauty and light.

one night, you find yourselves sitting across from one another at a small, round table, a cosy dinner spread out between you. the fire crackles beside you, filling the room with warmth. heeseung had insisted on preparing the meal, and though you’d never seen him cook before, the food is surprisingly delicious. it’s simple, nothing extravagant, but there’s something deeply comforting about the whole scene.

heeseung pours you a glass of wine, the red liquid glistening in the candlelight. he smiles gently as he hands it to you, and for the first time since you arrived, the tension between you feels like it’s beginning to ease.

“it feels normal, doesn’t it?” he asks quietly, his voice tinged with something you can’t quite place—hope, maybe. “like we could be anyone, anywhere. like none of this…” he gestures vaguely to the mansion around you, “…exists.”

you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness before you nod. “it does,” you agree softly. “for the first time since i got here, it feels… peaceful.”

heeseung’s gaze lingers on you, and when he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. “that’s all i’ve ever wanted. a moment of peace.”

the words hang in the air between you, and you can’t help but feel the weight of them. heeseung’s life—if you can even call it that—has been one long stretch of isolation and pain. and now, here he is, seeking solace in the small moments he can share with you. your heart aches for him.

“you’ve been alone for so long,” you murmur, placing your hand on top of his. his skin is warm beneath your touch, and for a moment, heeseung’s eyes flicker with something deep, something raw.

“i’ve had to be,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. “i don’t know what i’d become if i let myself feel anything. if i let myself believe that things could ever be different.”

he looks away, staring into the fire as if searching for answers in the flames. “but with you… it feels different. like there’s a chance for something better.”

your chest tightens at his words. there’s a sincerity in his voice that you can’t deny, a vulnerability that makes you want to believe him. you’ve seen the darkness in heeseung, felt the weight of his mysterious past, but now… now you see the man beneath it all. the man who’s been trapped, longing for freedom, for connection.

“i want to help you, heeseung,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know how, but… i want to try.”

heeseung turns back to you, his eyes shining with something akin to hope. he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against your knuckles. the gesture is tender, intimate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“you’ve already done more for me than you know,” he whispers. his gaze locks with yours, and in that moment, it feels like the rest of the world falls away. there’s only you and him, caught in this strange, timeless place.

the next morning, heeseung takes you on a walk through the mansion’s garden. the day is overcast, the sky a soft blanket of grey, but the air is warm, filled with the scent of the blooming flowers that line the winding paths. it’s quiet out here, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the chirp of a bird hidden somewhere in the overgrown hedges.

heeseung leads you toward the edge of the garden, where a large, ancient tree stands tall and proud, its branches stretching out like arms welcoming you. the bark is weathered, covered in thick moss, and there’s a certain energy that emanates from it, something both powerful and deeply familiar.

“this tree,” heeseung begins softly, running his hand over the rough bark, “has been here longer than the mansion itself. some say it’s the heart of this place, that it holds the memories of all those who’ve lived here.”

you step closer, staring up at the gnarled branches twisting above you. there’s something haunting about the tree, something that feels almost… alive.

“it’s strange,” you murmur, “but i feel like i know this tree. like i’ve stood here before.��

heeseung turns to you, his gaze filled with a deep intensity. “that’s because you have.”

your breath catches at his words, and you glance up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “what do you mean?”

heeseung steps closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “there are pieces of you that remember this place,” he says quietly. “just like there are pieces of me that have never forgotten you.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel a strange pull toward him once again, a sense that the two of you are bound together by something far greater than just this moment.

“do you ever wonder,” heeseung asks, his voice barely above a whisper, “why this place feels like home?”

your mind races, trying to process the weight of his question. you don’t know how to answer, because the truth is, you’ve been wondering that since the moment you arrived. and now, with heeseung standing beside you, the mansion looming behind you, and the ancient tree towering above you, the feeling is stronger than ever.

“maybe,” you whisper, “it’s because it is.”

heeseung’s gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, it feels like time itself stops. there’s a deep, unspoken understanding between you—a sense that, no matter how much you try to fight it, your fates are intertwined.

but as the days pass, those sweet moments with heeseung—the cosy dinners by the fire, the walks through the garden, the soft, lingering touches—begin to feel like something more. they feel like a promise. like he’s slowly binding you to this place, to him.

and you can’t shake the feeling that maybe that’s exactly what he wants.

the following morning is quieter than usual, with heeseung nowhere to be found. you drift through the halls of the mansion, feeling a strange mix of restlessness and curiosity, until you find yourself in the kitchen. the smell of something sweet wafts through the air, and when you step inside, you see sunoo standing by the counter, mixing a bowl of dough with effortless grace.

he looks up as you enter, a bright smile spreading across his face. “good morning!” he chirps, his voice as light and cheerful as always. “i thought we could bake something today. you seemed to enjoy the cookies i made last time.”

you hesitate in the doorway, unsure why your chest tightens a little at his easy demeanour. sunoo has always been polite and warm, a calming presence in the otherwise eerie mansion, but lately, something about him has started to feel... off. his constant cheerfulness, his perfect hospitality—it all seems too deliberate, too practised.

still, you find yourself drawn to the idea of something normal, something grounded in the here and now. so you nod, stepping into the kitchen to join him.

“what are we making?” you ask, moving to stand beside him at the counter.

sunoo beams. “heeseung loves cinnamon rolls,” he says with a knowing glint in his eye. “i thought we’d make a batch for him.”

you feel a flutter in your chest at the mention of heeseung. you’ve spent so much time with him lately that it’s hard not to think about him constantly. 

“how long have you been here, sunoo?” you ask after a moment, trying to sound casual. you’ve never really asked before—never thought to, really—but now that you’ve started thinking about it, the question gnaws at you.

sunoo’s smile tightens just a fraction, his hands stilling for a moment before he continues kneading. “longer than i can remember,” he says with a light laugh. “time is strange here. you lose track after a while.”

his words send a shiver down your spine. you’ve heard heeseung talk about the mansion warping time, but to hear sunoo echo the same sentiment makes it feel even more real. and the way he brushes off the question only adds to the growing sense of unease.

you try to shake the feeling, focusing instead on helping him roll out the dough. the kitchen feels warm and cosy, a stark contrast to the unsettling thoughts swirling in your mind. sunoo hums softly as he works, his movements fluid and graceful.

but then, just as you’re starting to relax again, sunoo speaks, his voice soft but laced with something... knowing.

“cinnamon rolls were always your favourite, too.”

you freeze, your hand hovering over the tray of dough. his words sink in slowly, like a cold drop of water trickling down your spine.

“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunoo looks up at you, blinking in confusion as if he doesn’t quite understand the gravity of what he’s just said. “i said cinnamon rolls were always your favourite,” he repeats, his tone casual but his eyes flickering with something deeper.

you stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “how would you know that?”

for the first time since you’ve met him, sunoo seems caught off guard. his usually calm, cheerful demeanour falters, and he fumbles with his words. “i-i mean, heeseung mentioned it once,” he says quickly, his smile strained. “you must’ve said something about it, right?”

but you know you didn’t. you’ve never mentioned cinnamon rolls or anything about your preferences to either of them. you would remember if you had. and the way sunoo’s face pales slightly, the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes—none of it feels right.

“sunoo,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended. “how do you really know that?”

he straightens up, the playful light in his eyes dimming. for a brief moment, you see something else in him—something darker, something far more calculated than the friendly host you’ve come to know. he looks at you as though measuring his next move, deciding how much to say.

“i—” sunoo stammers, then forces a bright smile again, though it no longer seems genuine. “you know how heeseung and i have lived here for so long. it just... slipped out. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

he’s deflecting. you can see it in the way he avoids your gaze, in the way his hands fidget nervously at his sides. the confidence that usually defines him is gone, replaced by something much more guarded.

you narrow your eyes, stepping closer to him. “that’s not it, sunoo. you know more than you’re telling me.”

for a moment, sunoo’s cheerful facade cracks completely. his eyes meet yours, and the playfulness drains from his expression. what’s left behind is cold, calculating, and far too knowing for comfort.

“you don’t want to ask questions you aren’t ready to hear the answers to,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a strange weight that sends another shiver down your spine.

before you can respond, he turns away, resuming his work on the cinnamon rolls as though the conversation never happened. the air between you feels thick with unspoken truths, and your mind races with questions you don’t know how to voice.

how does sunoo know things about you that you’ve never shared? and why does it feel like he’s hiding something—something big, something dangerous?

as the silence stretches on, your unease only grows. the cosy warmth of the kitchen now feels suffocating, and every glance sunoo throws your way feels like a veiled warning. you try to focus on the task at hand, but your thoughts keep spiralling, circling back to the same unsettling conclusion:

there’s something very wrong here.

later that evening, as you sit with heeseung by the fire once again, you can’t stop thinking about what sunoo said. you want to ask heeseung, to get some kind of explanation, but you don’t know how to bring it up without sounding paranoid. every time you try to voice your thoughts, the words get caught in your throat.

heeseung notices your distraction, of course. he always does. his dark eyes flicker with concern as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“are you alright?” he asks softly, his voice filled with that familiar warmth that always seems to melt your defences.

you force a smile, though it feels brittle. “i’m fine,” you lie, your heart racing.

but as heeseung leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, you can’t shake the feeling that everything is slipping out of your control. the mansion, sunoo, heeseung—it’s all starting to unravel, and you’re not sure if you’re prepared for what you’ll find once the proper truth comes to light.

the storm that had raged outside the mansion for what felt like days finally breaks, leaving the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and the last drops of rain dripping off the eaves. the sky is clear now, a pale blue that feels far too serene after the eerie chaos of the past few days. you should be relieved, ready to leave this strange place and return to the life you know, but there’s a tension clinging to you that refuses to dissipate.

your parents, already packing up in their room, seem eager to get back on the road. they’ve been talking about the upcoming week—about how you need to prepare for your university exchange program and the final stretch of family time before you go. you should feel the same urgency, the same excitement to return to normalcy, but something keeps you rooted in place, lingering in the mansion’s dim corridors.

and then there’s heeseung.

he’s been quieter than usual since the storm ended, his smiles fewer and his demeanour darker, but every time you try to bring it up, he brushes it off. it’s like he’s biding his time, waiting for the right moment to say whatever’s been brewing behind his careful mask.

that moment comes after dinner, when your parents step outside to check on the car. you find yourself alone with heeseung in his room, the fire casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. the atmosphere is heavy, thick with unspoken words. you glance at him, and something in his expression—a tightness around his eyes, a tension in his jaw—makes your pulse quicken.

“heeseung…” you begin, your voice tentative. “we’re leaving soon. i have to get back in time for the program.”

at your words, something shifts in him, subtle but palpable. his dark eyes lock onto yours, and the pleasant facade he’s been wearing all this time cracks, just slightly. the smile that curls his lips doesn’t reach his eyes.

“you’re really going to leave me?” his voice is soft, almost too soft, and yet there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach churn.

you take a step towards him, trying to explain. “i have to go. the program—it’s important, and i can’t just stay here.”

heeseung’s expression darkens, and he takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you. “what’s more important? some exchange program or me?”

the question catches you off guard. his voice is low, laced with something that sounds like hurt, but there’s a simmering anger beneath it that makes you nervous.

“i… it’s not like that,” you stammer, trying to find the right words. “i’ve worked so hard for this, heeseung. it’s a big opportunity. you understand, don’t you?”

but he’s not listening. heeseung’s jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow as he steps closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “no, i don’t understand,” he snaps, his voice rising with barely contained fury. “you can’t just leave! after everything we’ve been through—after everything i’ve done for you—you’re just going to walk away?”

your heart pounds in your chest as his words hit you like a physical blow. there’s something wild in his gaze now, something unhinged. heeseung reaches out, grabbing your arm, and his grip is too tight, his fingers digging into your skin.

“you’re not going,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, the fury in his tone barely masked. “you can’t.”

the room feels like it’s closing in on you, the fire’s warmth suddenly stifling. you try to pull away, but heeseung’s grip tightens, his fingers digging deeper into your arm. his face contorts with an emotion you can’t fully name—something between rage and desperation.

“heeseung, you’re hurting me,” you manage to say, your voice shaky as you try to free yourself from his grasp.

at your words, his expression shifts again—this time to something that almost looks like regret, but it’s fleeting, quickly replaced by that same desperate intensity. he loosens his grip, but he doesn’t let go. instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand coming up to cup the side of your face.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but there’s still an unsettling edge to it. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just… i can’t lose you.”

his face is inches from yours, and there’s something predatory in the way he looks at you now. before you can react, he leans in, his lips crashing against yours with a force that makes you stumble back. the kiss is rough, possessive, not at all like the tender moments you’ve shared before. it’s as if he’s trying to claim you, to make you stay through sheer force of will.

you try to push him away, but he’s too strong, his hands holding you in place. panic flares in your chest, but just as quickly as the kiss began, he pulls back, his face contorted with a mixture of fury and something akin to pleading.

“don’t go,” he whispers, his voice trembling now, and you can see tears welling up in his eyes. “please… don’t leave me.”

the sudden shift is dizzying. one moment, he was angry—furious, even—and now he’s begging, his voice raw with emotion. heeseung’s hands slide from your face to your shoulders, his fingers trembling as he holds onto you as if you’re his only lifeline.

“i’ve been trapped here for so long,” he says, his voice breaking. “you’re the only good thing that’s happened to me in… i don’t even know how long. i can’t bear the thought of being alone again. not after everything we’ve shared.”

you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of him like this—vulnerable, broken. his eyes are filled with so much pain, so much longing, that it tugs at something deep inside you. despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, a part of you feels drawn to him, feels the weight of his desperation, his need for you.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “but i can’t let you leave. i can’t let you forget about me.”

his words send a chill through you, but they also stir something else—something darker, something that makes you question your own resolve. can you really leave him here, alone, after everything?

“heeseung,” you begin, your voice shaky, “i don’t want to hurt you either, but i have to go back. my life… i can’t just abandon it.”

his expression hardens for a moment, and for a terrifying second, you think his anger will return, but instead, he collapses against you, resting his forehead on your shoulder. his body trembles, and you feel the wetness of his tears soaking into your shirt.

“stay with me,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. “please… i need you.”

the weight of his words crashes down on you, and you feel your resolve slipping. heeseung’s vulnerability, his desperation—it’s overwhelming. you can’t deny the pull you feel toward him, the way your heart aches at the thought of leaving him behind.

maybe it’s the mansion, with its strange, unearthly hold on you, or maybe it’s heeseung himself—the way he’s embedded himself into your heart, into your very being. either way, the thought of leaving him feels unbearable.

slowly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him as he clings to you. “i’ll stay… for now,” you whisper, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them.

heeseung pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of hope and relief. “you will?”

you nod, even as your heart twists with doubt. “just for a little longer.”

the smile that spreads across his face is soft, almost tender, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—something darker, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

but for now, you push it aside. you’ll deal with the consequences of your decision later. right now, you just want to believe that you’re doing the right thing, that staying with heeseung is what’s best.

even if, deep down, you know it might be the worst mistake you’ve ever made.

the room is bathed in the soft, flickering light of candles, their flames casting shadows that dance along the walls. the air is thick with the scent of something floral, a heady mix of desire and tension swirling around you as heeseung’s lips trail down your neck, sending shivers through your body. his touch is gentle, worshipping, as if he’s afraid you might disappear at any moment.

it feels almost too perfect—like a dream you’re not quite sure you want to wake up from. his hands are on your skin, warm and possessive, and despite everything, despite the lingering doubts in your mind, you feel yourself giving in. his breath is hot against your collarbone, and your body responds to him, melting into his every touch.

heeseung presses you down onto the soft bed, his movements slow and deliberate. there's an intensity in his gaze, a hunger that’s been simmering under the surface ever since you arrived. his eyes never leave yours, and in the flickering light, there’s something primal in the way he looks at you—something that makes your pulse quicken with both anticipation and a strange sense of foreboding.

“i’ve waited so long for this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as his fingers trace the curve of your waist, his lips hovering just above yours. “you have no idea how long…”

his words make your heart stutter, but you push the uneasy feeling aside. this moment feels too intimate, too charged to ruin with questions. you close your eyes as he leans in, kissing you deeply, and for a moment, all your doubts dissolve in the heat of the moment.

heeseung’s hands move with purpose, his touch both tender and possessive, and soon you find yourself swept away by the passion between you. it feels like time has stopped, like the mansion itself has paused its strange, shifting nature to let you have this moment together. his body presses against yours, and the world outside the room seems to blur into nothingness.

as the intensity builds, heeseung’s breath grows heavier, and so does the atmosphere around you. his whispered words become more erratic, laced with a strange urgency. he murmurs your name like a prayer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in low, fervent tones. you try to hold on to the heat between you, to the passion, but there’s something unsettling underneath it all. something you can’t quite put your finger on. the way he touches you—so familiar, like he’s done this before. like you’ve done this before.

as the moment deepens, you’re both lost in each other, but then, somewhere between the whispers and the heat of his skin against yours, heeseung says something that makes your heart stutter.

“you know he was never good enough for you.”

his words are laced with a bitterness that cuts through the intimacy like a knife. your body tenses beneath him, but you don’t fully register the meaning of his words right away. who is he talking about? the thought flashes through your mind, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sensation of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

still, the words echo, growing louder with each passing second. he? who is he talking about?

your mind begins to wander, to places you’ve been trying to avoid. somewhere deep inside, there’s a flicker of recognition. the inkling of a past lover, a shadowy figure whose face you can’t quite remember but whose presence lingers in your mind. it’s as though there’s something—or someone—you’ve forgotten, buried beneath layers of a life you no longer recall.

heeseung’s lips press against your skin again, pulling you back into the moment, but the unease has already taken root. you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. his words—he was never good enough for you—ring in your ears. but who? who could he mean?

you try to push it away, to focus on the present, but there’s a strange shift in the atmosphere now. the way heeseung touches you, the way his voice wraps around your name—it feels less like adoration and more like possession. and the way he said he—the bitterness, the jealousy—it felt too personal, too pointed.

you close your eyes, trying to lose yourself in the heat of his body, but the unease grows, knotting in your chest. you can’t stop thinking about what he said, about who he might be referring to. you don’t remember anyone else—at least, not fully. yet there’s this nagging feeling, like you’re forgetting something important. or someone.

heeseung seems oblivious to your growing discomfort. his hands roam over you with a kind of desperation now, his grip tightening as if he’s afraid to let go. there’s a possessive edge to the way he holds you, a subtle shift in the dynamic that makes your heart race for reasons that have nothing to do with passion.

“you’ve always been mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. “from the beginning.”

the words send a chill through you. from the beginning. it’s a simple phrase, but something about the way he says it—like he’s claiming you, like he’s rewriting your past—makes you uneasy. you don’t know why, but those words feel loaded, like they mean more than he’s letting on.

and then, as he kisses you again, his voice drops to a whisper, soft but chilling: “even before… before him.”

your body goes rigid. there it is again—him. the mystery lover you can’t remember. the one who, according to heeseung, wasn’t good enough for you. the one who existed before heeseung.

your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of memories you don’t have. who is he? and why does heeseung sound so bitter, so possessive, when he talks about him?

you don’t ask the questions that are burning inside you. not yet. you’re not sure you’re ready to hear the answers. instead, you let heeseung pull you closer, let him kiss you with that same intensity, but the warmth between you has shifted. there’s something darker in the air now, something unsettling, and no matter how much you try to ignore it, the words before him continue to echo in your mind.

later, when the passion has faded and the room has fallen into silence, you lie beside heeseung, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. heeseung’s arm is draped over your waist, his breathing slow and even as if he’s already drifted off into a peaceful sleep. but you can’t rest. not with the weight of his words hanging over you.

he was never good enough for you.

as you lie there, wrapped in heeseung’s arms, the reality of your situation starts to sink in. the mansion, the strange familiarity, the way heeseung acts as though he’s known you forever—it all feels too real, too deliberate. you want to believe that what you have with him is real, but there’s a part of you, buried deep inside, that knows something isn’t right.

something is missing. something from your past, something—or someone—that heeseung isn’t telling you about.

and the scariest part? you’re not sure if you want to remember.

the air feels heavy, pressing down on you as you toss and turn in the unfamiliar bed, your mind restless even in sleep. the warmth of heeseung’s presence lingers, but something inside you feels unsettled—his words still echoing in your mind, he was never good enough for you. a cold shiver runs down your spine as you drift deeper into unconsciousness, slipping into the kind of dream that feels far too real.

the room is dark, but something’s wrong—everything feels… different. you sit up slowly, eyes scanning the space. the door that led to the hallway earlier now opens to somewhere else entirely, revealing a long corridor that seems to stretch into nothingness. the walls seem to shift, pulsating like they’re alive, and the low hum of eerie whispers fills the air.

your heart pounds as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. the floor beneath your feet feels colder than it should, like ice seeping through the soles of your skin. your instincts scream at you to stay where you are, but something compels you to move, to explore. you walk toward the mirror on the wall, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

but when you look into it, the reflection staring back at you isn’t your own—or at least, not how you recognize yourself. the figure in the mirror is wearing clothes from another time—a long, flowing dress, intricate lace details that seem ancient, out of place in this modern world. you can’t breathe. the woman in the reflection is you, but not you. she looks like you… but she belongs to another life.

a flicker of movement in the mirror catches your attention, and you turn to see heeseung standing in the doorway, his figure bathed in shadows. but this isn’t the heeseung you’ve come to know. the softness in his expression is gone, replaced with something darker, more sinister. his face is cold, almost expressionless, but his eyes—his eyes gleam with something sharp, dangerous.

“you’re here,” he says, his voice deeper than usual, lacking the warmth you’ve grown used to. he steps into the room, and the air seems to thicken around you. “i was hoping you’d remember sooner.”

“remember?” you whisper, confusion and fear swirling in your chest. “what are you talking about?”

heeseung’s lips curl into a bitter smile. “this place, us… none of it is a coincidence. you think you were just passing through? that the mansion drew you in by some strange force?” he laughs, a low, humourless sound that sends chills down your spine. “i brought you here.”

you take a step back, your mind reeling. “what… what do you mean?”

heeseung tilts his head, studying you like you’re a puzzle he’s waiting for you to solve. “this mansion, this cursed place—it’s ours. we built it together. we ran this hotel together. don’t you remember? you and i… we were supposed to live here, forever. but you chose him.”

a cold weight settles in your stomach. flashes of images invade your mind—distant memories you don’t understand, flickering in and out of focus. heeseung standing beside you, both of you smiling. the mansion was alive back then too, bustling with guests, full of life. but something feels wrong, distorted.

you suddenly feel like you’re suffocating, trapped under the weight of something you’re not sure you want to remember. the walls seem to shift again, the whispers growing louder, more insistent. bloodstains appear on the floor beneath you, as though seeping up from the wood itself.

heeseung’s voice pulls you back. “i loved you,” he says softly, stepping closer. his words should feel comforting, but they don’t. there’s a hunger in them, a possessive edge that makes your skin crawl. “but you were going to marry him… sim jake. you never gave me a chance.”

your heart skips a beat. jake. the name pulls at something deep within you, something you’ve been trying to ignore. memories you can’t quite grasp swirl at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to break free. you shake your head, unable to speak, your throat tight.

“i watched you with him,” heeseung continues, his eyes never leaving yours. “watched as you planned a future that didn’t include me. but i couldn’t let it happen. i couldn’t let him take you away.”

the bloodstains grow darker, spreading across the floor. you take another step back, your breath quickening.

and then it hits you—a flash of memory, so vivid it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. you’re standing in the grand foyer of the mansion, dressed in that same lace gown from the mirror. jake is beside you, holding your hand, and you’re smiling up at him, heart full of love and excitement for the life you’re about to start together.

but then heeseung appears, his expression twisted in anger, betrayal simmering beneath the surface. and beside him is sunoo, his usually cheerful face cold and calculating. you see the way they look at jake, the silent exchange between them. before you can even process what’s happening, sunoo moves like lightning—his hand coming down in a flash of steel.

blood.

you gasp, your body trembling as you relive the moment. jake’s body crumpling to the ground, lifeless. your scream echoing through the halls, terror and grief crashing into you like a tidal wave.

in the dream—or is it a memory?—you turn, locking eyes with heeseung. you see it in his face, the mix of guilt and satisfaction. he’s done it. he’s made sure jake will never have you. but you… you’re not supposed to be there. you weren’t supposed to see it.

heeseung’s lips part as if to speak, but before he can, sunoo moves again. you don’t feel the blade; you just see your own blood spilling onto the floor, mixing with jake’s. heeseung’s yell is heard in the background and then… darkness.

the memory snaps you back to the present with a force that makes you stumble, your hands clutching the edge of the bed as you struggle to breathe. your heart is pounding in your ears, and your vision blurs with tears as the reality of it all sinks in.

you stare at him, your mind reeling. “sunoo killed me…” the words barely escape your lips, your voice trembling. “you… you both… killed us.”

heeseung’s expression hardens. “it was never supposed to end like that. but sunoo—he was afraid. afraid you’d ruin everything. so he—”

“he killed me,” you repeat, the weight of the revelation crashing down on you. “because of you.”

“because i loved you,” heeseung snaps, his voice sharp, eyes blazing with fury. “because i couldn’t stand the thought of you being with him. you were supposed to be mine!”

the room begins to shift, the walls closing in around you, the whispers rising to a deafening roar. you see it all now—how the mansion is tied to you, how it’s always been tied to you. it’s not just a place; it’s a prison. a prison where heeseung, sunoo, and you have been trapped for eternity, bound by the violence and betrayal that happened within its walls.

and heeseung… he’s not the victim he claimed to be. he’s the one who set all of this into motion, the mastermind behind the lies, the manipulation. he brought you back here, trapped you in this cycle, because he refuses to let go. he refuses to let you go.

“you can’t leave,” he whispers, stepping closer, his voice soft but laced with something sinister. “not now. not ever.”

your body trembles, fear twisting in your gut. the mansion—the distorted laughter, the bloodstains that won’t fade, the sensation of being watched—it’s all his doing. all part of his twisted game to keep you here, with him, forever.

but now, you remember. and you know the truth.

you wake up suddenly, your breath catching in your throat. the room is filled with the steady sound of heeseung’s breathing, soft and rhythmic as he sleeps beside you, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. but there’s no peace in it for you. your heart races, your mind tangled in a web of fear and confusion after what you just experienced. the images of the dream—or was it a memory?—flash through your mind. heeseung and sunoo killing jake. your own death. the truth about the mansion. it all feels too real, too vivid.

you glance at heeseung's sleeping form. his face is peaceful, innocent even, as if none of the horrors you've just seen could possibly be tied to him. but you know better now. his charm, his warmth, it’s all a mask—a cruel lie.

carefully, you slide out of bed, every movement deliberate, trying not to make a sound. you hold your breath as you tiptoe across the floor, your hands trembling. you don’t dare look back at him, too terrified that he might wake up and catch you. you know that if you stay here any longer, you’ll be trapped forever, just like in your dream. or worse—your nightmare.

you slip out of the room, heart pounding in your ears as you make your way down the dark hallway toward your parents' room. the walls seem to loom larger in the dim light, shadows flickering at the edges of your vision. the mansion feels like it’s alive, watching your every step, waiting for you to fail.

when you reach their door, you knock softly, trying not to panic. “mom, dad,” you whisper urgently. “we need to leave. please, wake up.”

after a moment, your mother opens the door, her face groggy with sleep. "what's going on?" she asks, rubbing her eyes.

"we need to leave," you repeat, your voice shaking. "something's wrong with this place. please, trust me. we have to go now."

your father stirs awake as well, frowning. "leave? in the middle of the night? what's gotten into you?"

"please," you beg, "i can't explain it right now, but we have to go. meet me outside, okay? just pack your things and meet me at the gates."

they exchange concerned glances but for once, sensing the urgency in your voice, they nod and begin to gather their things. relief washes over you for a brief moment as you make your way down the stairs, moving swiftly toward the mansion’s grand entrance. you're almost there, just a few more steps.

but as you reach the towering iron gates, you’re suddenly pulled back and pinned against the wall. you’re not surprised to see heeseung looming above you, with the most furious look you’ve ever seen on him.

“where do you think you’re going, my love?”, he spits out venomously.

you try to push him away, but to no avail he just grabs both your wrists, pinning them to your chest.

“you lied to me about all of this”, you look at him with betrayal, “you’re nothing but a manipulative liar. you killed us!”

heeseung seems to freeze at that, a look of realisation crossing over his face. he lets out a chuckle in disbelief, staring at you with a dark look.

“you found out then huh. but, you don’t know the full truth, do you?”

you furrow your brows in confusion at that. what was he talking about now?

he smirks at that, letting go of your hands now. “you’ve left me no choice y/n. you did this to yourself.”

with that ominous declaration, he brings his hand up to your forehead. a series of images rapidly flash in front of your eyes, and you immediately blackout.

you’re back in the dream again, but this time it’s different. you see yourself—your past self—walking through the halls of the mansion. the air is warm, the sunlight streaming through the large windows, and everything feels… peaceful. you look younger, happier, laughing at something heeseung said. he’s beside you, his arm brushing against yours as you both walk through the corridors like you belong there. like this place is yours.

heeseung is smiling at you, but not in the charming, calculated way you’ve come to expect. it’s a genuine smile, filled with warmth and affection. your heart flutters as he leans closer, his voice soft as he speaks. “you always make everything feel right,” he says, eyes shining with something you can’t quite place.

you smile back, a soft blush colouring your cheeks, and it hits you—he loved you then too. but you were too caught up in your engagement to jake to see it.

the scene shifts. you’re sitting together, laughing over something, your hand resting on his arm as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. there’s an intimacy between you that makes your stomach twist with unease. this version of you looks so in love with him. you’re touching him like you belong to him.

but that can’t be right. jake was your fiancé. you were going to marry him.

the memory shifts again, this time darker. heeseung leans in, his hand resting on yours for just a moment too long. “if only things were different,” he murmurs, his gaze heavy with unspoken longing.

your past self looks away, guilt flashing in your eyes. “i can’t leave him,” you whisper, barely audible. “it wouldn’t be good for my family or us. for the business.”

heeseung’s jaw tightens, his fingers brushing over yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “but you want to,” he says softly, the words hanging in the air between you like a dangerous secret.

and you… you don’t deny it.

you wake up with a gasp, your heart racing as you bolt upright. your head throbs where as if you were hit, and the confusion of the dream still lingers like a fog in your mind. you’re back in heeseung’s room. alone. sunlight spills in through the curtains which means..

panic floods your veins. you scramble out of bed, your feet hitting the cold floor as you rush to the door. you can’t stay here. you have to find your parents and leave before it’s too late.

when you reach the foyer, your breath catches in your throat. your parents are there, bags packed, ready to leave. relief crashes over you like a wave, and you run toward them. “mom! dad! let’s go, we have to—”

but then they turn to you, confusion etched on their faces. your mother tilts her head slightly, her brow furrowing. “who… are you?”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean? i’m your daughter! we need to leave, now!”

your father frowns, glancing at your mother, then back at you. “i think you’re mistaken. we don’t have a daughter.”

your laughter bubbles up, but it’s panicked, forced. “what? no, stop. this isn’t funny. we need to go, we need to leave right now!”

suddenly, you feel an arm snake around your waist, pulling you into a strong hold. you freeze, knowing exactly who it is before you even turn to look. heeseung. his smile is charming, but the coldness in his eyes sends a chill down your spine.

“ah, sweetheart,” he says smoothly, turning to your parents with an amused chuckle. “she likes to play these little pranks sometimes. always such a joker, my wife.”

your parents—no, these strangers—laugh awkwardly, nodding along like everything makes sense. “oh, we see,” your mother—no, not your mother—says with a forced smile. 

your blood runs cold. you twist in heeseung’s grip, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes. “what have you done?”

heeseung’s smile falters slightly, but he feigns hurt, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “what have i done? darling, i think you’re a little confused.”

you struggle against him, but his grip tightens. "mom! dad! please, it's me! it's your daughter! you have to believe me!"

but they just stare at you, their expressions growing more uncomfortable by the second. your father clears his throat, glancing at heeseung. “i think it’s time for us to go.”

heeseung nods, his smile never wavering. “of course. i’m sorry about all this. she’s been under a lot of stress lately. sunoo,” he calls over his shoulder.

sunoo appears from the shadows, his ever-cheerful grin now twisted into something darker, more malicious. he moves toward you, grabbing your arm with surprising strength. “come on now, let’s not make a scene.”

“no!” you scream, thrashing in sunoo’s hold. “please, you have to remember me! i’m your daughter!”

but your parents—these strangers—just exchange awkward glances before turning away. you all watch them leave, sunoo’s arm still securely around your waist, holding you in place.

you break free from his grip, bolting toward the door screaming for your parents, desperate to escape. but as soon as you reach the threshold, you slam into an invisible barrier. the impact knocks the air from your lungs, and you stumble back, disoriented.

heeseung is behind you in an instant, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his breath hot against your ear. “i told you, didn’t i?” his voice is low, cold. “you’re mine. you’ve always been mine.”

tears stream down your face as you push against the barrier, your hands shaking. “what have you done to me? why are you doing this?”

heeseung’s grip tightens, and he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with a possessive intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “you think you’re innocent in all of this?” his voice is soft, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “you think you didn’t know what was happening? you chose me. you were mine long before jake was ever in the picture.”

you shake your head in disbelief. “no, i didn’t… i didn’t—”

sunoo steps closer, a mocking pout on his lips. “oh, sweetheart, you did. you just didn’t want to admit it.” his finger traces the line of your cheek, and you flinch away from him. “you knew about heeseung’s feelings. you used him. and when jake became a problem, you turned a blind eye to it all. you knew we would kill him.” he sighs, “unfortunately, miscommunication led to your demise and we were eventually hanged. and now our souls are cursed to be bound to this mansion for eternity.”

heeseung’s voice lowers, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you’re just as guilty as i am. and now… you’ll suffer with me. for eternity.”

you stand frozen, your mind reeling from heeseung’s words. the weight of the truth, the accusations, presses down on you like a boulder. memories you didn’t even know you had flicker behind your eyes—of stolen glances, secret touches, a forbidden affair. the you from before, so desperate to keep everything intact—your reputation, your future—had made a choice. a terrible, selfish choice.

“no…” you whisper, backing away from heeseung, shaking your head in denial. “that’s not true. i didn’t—”

“didn’t what?” heeseung cuts you off, his voice sharp and cruel now, all traces of tenderness gone. “didn’t love me? didn’t lead me on while you paraded around with him?” he spits the last word like it’s poison. “you knew exactly what you were doing. you wanted to have it both ways, and when i couldn’t stand it any longer, you let me kill jake because it was easier for you.”

the room spins as his words hit you like a tidal wave. you feel sick, your stomach twisting in knots. but even as the guilt rises in your throat, something inside you resists. “i didn’t… i didn’t want that…” you stammer, but your voice is weak, and the look in heeseung’s eyes tells you that he doesn’t believe you. maybe you don’t even believe yourself.

he steps closer, his eyes dark and filled with anger and betrayal. “you were mine, always mine. but you just had to keep playing your little games, didn’t you? you thought you could control everything. but look where it’s gotten us.”

you stumble backward, hitting the invisible barrier once again. this time it feels like it’s closing in on you, trapping you not just physically but mentally, emotionally. “i didn’t want anyone to die!” you shout, your voice cracking as the tears blur your vision. “i didn’t want this!”

sunoo chuckles softly from the corner, leaning casually against the wall, his expression unreadable. “well, that’s a nice story,” he says, voice light and mocking. “but none of us are getting out of here. not you, not me, not heeseung.” he crosses the room, his eyes gleaming with malice as he moves toward you. “you see, you set all of this in motion. you thought you could control us, control your fate, but now you’ll be trapped here just like us.”

heeseung’s grip on your arm tightens painfully, and you can feel his desperation, his anger, boiling over. “you’re not leaving, no matter how hard you try. this mansion, this curse, it’s our prison. and now it’s yours, too. we’re all in this together, for eternity.”

the word “eternity” sends a fresh wave of panic through your veins. “no!” you scream, thrashing in his grip, desperate to break free. “i won’t stay here! i won’t!”

but heeseung only tightens his hold on you, his face twisted in a mixture of rage and possessiveness. “you will stay,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “you belong to me. you always have.”

sunoo steps beside heeseung, his gaze cold and detached as he watches your struggle. his mocking smile only deepens the pit of dread in your stomach. “it’s only fair, don’t you think?” sunoo says, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “after all, you did help put us in this mess. you turned a blind eye to what heeseung did. and now…” he trails his fingers along your cheek, his touch sending a shiver of fear down your spine. “you’ll pay for that mistake.”

you shake your head wildly, trying to back away, but the barrier prevents any escape. “please, no!” you beg, your voice breaking as you sob. “i didn’t know… i didn’t mean for any of this to happen…”

but heeseung’s grip is unrelenting. he pulls you closer, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction as he watches you unravel. “it doesn’t matter now,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark intent. “your parents don’t remember you anymore and we’re bound together, all of us. the mansion, the curse, it’s our fate. and now it’s yours, too.”

as his words sink in, you feel the weight of your past bearing down on you. the memories, the guilt, the betrayal—it’s all too much. you collapse against the invisible barrier, tears streaming down your face as you realise the full extent of what’s happened. you’re trapped. trapped with heeseung and sunoo in this mansion, cursed to live out eternity in this twisted nightmare.

heeseung kneels down beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a cruel tenderness. “it’s better this way,” he whispers. “now you can’t leave me. you’ll never leave me again.”

you choke back a sob, shaking your head. “i never wanted this… i never wanted to hurt anyone…”

heeseung’s lips curl into a dark smile. “but you did,” he says softly. “and now, you’ll live with that guilt forever.”

sunoo crouches beside heeseung, his gaze filled with mock pity as he watches you break down. “look on the bright side,” he says with a smirk. “at least you won’t be lonely. you’ll have us… forever.”

the finality of their words crashes over you like a wave, and as you look into heeseung’s cold, possessive eyes, you realise there’s no escape. you’re trapped in this mansion, bound to heeseung and sunoo for all eternity, forced to relive the mistakes of your past life in an endless cycle of torment.

with a sinking heart, you realise that heeseung was right all along. you’ve always been his. and now, you’ll never be free.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

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[death---dealer]

The Grim Reaper. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Eleven.

the series is not done GUYS I PROMISE AND IM SO SORRY

Title: The Grim Reaper. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Sexual implications, injury, mentions of blood. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 8.5K+ ( it was previously 7.6 who the hell allowed this CHANGE ) Summary: Bargaining was always a great tool to use in the face of death. Meeting on the brink was less favorable. READ THE SERIES HERE.

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The ground was more fervently lush below your feet than you had ever experienced, letting your toes seep into the delectable grass that tickled between your toes. Such a strange and exhilarating feeling, so clean and incredibly simple but all you wanted to do was roll onto it and consume it with all your might. Crisp and cool, your body angling itself downwards so you could flush your hand against the tender landscape and like your feet that were planted, you wanted your fingers to do the same as you dug them in, getting a wonderful waft of nothing but Earth that catapulted your senses to the highest bid of Heaven that was imaginable, fathomable or even obtainable in the Human consciousness. 

Drawing yourself into a small sigh, your gaze flittered across the leafy landscape and took in the minute details of the breeze pushing itself in and out of the the conifers that lined the meadow you were so familiar with, this time being coated with a honey sensation that made it feel like it was a hot afternoon but the atmosphere was only a notch above timid and wasn’t sticky or uncomfortable to exist in.

The mild rushing of water captivated you long enough to look in the direction of the moisture that suddenly enthralled your entire being. If your mind were able to race itself to the torrent of whitened water against the shoreline, you would but it felt like you were in a dream, the way your body brought itself back up and leveraged into the space it needed to consume, the way your feet that had been so deliciously dipped into the dirt below began moving, one step at a time until they all subsequently became one languid stride. You… You had been here before, this exact moment. 

Noa… You wanted to cry upon seeing the blanketed nature of his fur, so enticing to grasp and hold onto in a desperate plea to keep you from floating off into a realm of the unknown. You had been here before, Noa… Had… His ears must have picked up on the twig that suddenly appeared below your right foot and despite already standing, it felt like you were just pushing yourself to do just that, your knees popping under your weight as you made a quickened dash towards him as he had himself situated at the embankment of the river you so often took pleasure and solace in together, deep in the trenches of acute conversations, lingering words that meant more than either party were willing to admit at the time. Yes… Yes. Yes…

Noa knew you would follow him in this moment, your lips parting as you came rounding the Ape who was crouched near the stream, his fingers dipping into the cold water and taking in notes of the way that the current felt between his fingers. “Have you felt it?”

That was your voice speaking but it didn't feel like your throat had vocalized anything as you bent down beside him, body movements not feeling like your own but you knew they were as you reached up and placed a hand against your jugular. Had you just spoken? You must have…Maybe you were just tired and things in the word you were around were sorrowed by the need to sleep in more, to pull yourself into the nest and tightly wrap yourself into the darkness of the animal pelts and rest until you felt better, until this innate sense of deja vu passed and left you feeling like a normal a whole person again.

Skin tearing itself apart on the surface as you rubbed his shoulder, his fur licking at your senses and driving them into slow and dashed overdrive, your mouth parting as if you knew what his answer was going to be because you did. You had been here before, this drip in the eternal stream that flowed so carelessly in front of you, never asking for anything in return, but always keeping blackmail in case it needed to hurt you.

 Noa only tilted his head out of the corner of your eye, feigning ignorance to your inquiry. “Felt?”

“Romantic love.”

He was going to drag himself into contemplation as he enjoyed the water, Noa always falling into that line when you and he had these conversations of Echo behavior and Echo Logic. Even now, in the dream-like state, it needed to be the same, it always was the same… Would it… Make any difference now if he knew how much you loved him? Would it make him feel any differently towards you if he knew, if you told him and laid yourself out for rejection? Would it put him in a stupor of surprise, unknown territory that you both wanted to travel together no matter the outcome because the feeling had been silently acknowledged the last few times you had met? Would Noa feel feral with want, his eyes casting their beautiful green color that rivaled even the enviest of grass right along your jugular?

The Chimp would push away anyone from you he deemed a threat, he would tear their faces off, the pit of his stomach melting into aggravated and cruel dissatisfaction in himself for never saying the words in the first place, the first time that you had met here and the first time that the question you asked was posed. Noa’s fingers dug into the palm of his hands to distract himself from the idea that you did not feel the same way giving off the impression that having you so near was unfavorable. That your scent was not what he needed, that your Echoness… Was not what he wanted.

Would it… Lifting your hand up, you were surprised at the action in itself as you could have sworn this was just a dream, this was just a moment of recollection in extreme vividness and you should not have been able to move on your own. Lightly, your hand placed itself against the side of his face, heart racing with the knowledge that Noa was able to sense it through the bottoms of his flattened feet, through the subtle motion of your pulse against your wrist. Would it make him lose control? Bite my arm, you whispered to him and let your fingers sink into the fur that bordered his face, your hand heady with intent. Bite the space between my shoulder blades, please… Take me by the hair and make me mine, Noa… Noa…

The stares that he had given you for so long, finally being returned now as Noa turned his expression towards you, unbiased and willing to let you touch him for as long as you needed as if he himself were having a hard time telling if you were living in reality or not. Your stares towards him…They were always noticed, even when you tried to play coy. Breath hitching in your throat at the pure intensity that flurried like electricity was shooting between the two of you, Noa tilted his head with a bit more passion.

We are here… You and I, the motion said. Don’t leave now... No longer stretching out silent and afraid, you brought his face inwards, your feet tethering themselves dangerously close to the embankment, feeling the shift of loose gravel under you as you felt him loosen control of his body and Noa fell into the shallow water below where your fingers had briskly touched for the first time what seemed like years ago…

How you would follow him anywhere he went, your mind floated, flushing yourself against him as your thighs tucked near the sides of his pelvic bone, body ignoring the chill as the water rushed against Noa’s back, swimming his fur artistically around him like a small boat. It was crystal clear, shallow like a small puddle. Your wet hands planted themselves firmly on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat under the pads of your fingers as you felt sheer satisfaction run wild in your nerves. His scar, the way that the fur tapered into his skin before flushing with coarseness. Bringing your lips down, you kissed it slowly, lingering and smothering to Noa who had nothing to hide anymore.  Noa knew the answer now… Noa felt he always knew the answer… “Yes.” Tell me more, you thought to yourself and mimed his action when he reached to grasp one of your thighs to keep you situated on top of him, the hand on his chest trailing downwards, through the thinned nature of his waist and taking in any crevice you were able to feel under the thickets of fur that tastefully drenched his entire body, now wet from the stream, and without a conscious of its own. Like you had played with the small pebbles the first time, you were now catering your touch to Noa himself, his conscious thought reacting to even the smallest of grazes.

Noa moved himself, reaching his free hand from your body to rest on your face, his thumb swiping right under your eye and giving the impression of faux tears when he tore that away and brought it downwards to dip at your lips. Leathery skin caressed the smoothness, tracing the delicate lines and tugging on your bottom lip to get a glimpse at your blunted teeth. 

“Have you…” That was said softer than he had meant, knowing what he was doing with his touch and having let it fester for so long, Noa wanted to take it in as slowly as possible to savor it in case it was a dream. Tongue peaked out for a moment as you licked the very tip of his thumb that lingered near your bottom lip, his eyes sharped at the sight and he raised his hips that were anchoring you to him. “Have you felt?”

A gasp exploded straight from the back of your throat at his motion, stirring you to grasp the fur near his navel in an attempt to riddle yourself of the feeling creeping around your thighs, the cloth of your pants sticking to your skin and traced with the current of water and Noa’s fur that was shuffling. Desperation ran rampant, you wanted to feel him, wanted to have him for yourself. You’d be the one to sink your teeth into Noa’s innocent neck, you’d be the one to hold him to you and protect with all your might and get him to say your name like a muffled chant.

Tracing downwards, you felt his hand at the base of your neck where your collarbones connect and instead of moving away as he would have done normally, Noa continued onwards down your white faded t-shirt and wet the fabric with enough moisture that it clung to your sunken skin to give him the faintest outline of your sternum and dip of your breasts. Breathing seemed impossible as you clutched him that much tighter, wanting nothing more than to shed your clothing, piece by terrible piece, just to feel how hot and hard he truly was against you, something that was explicit in only your dreams. You needed to touch him, hand racing itself between your legs to grasp. Just one more time. One more… One more…

One more… “Yes.”

There was a surged snap as you tore at the band around his waist without hesitation, watching as the lined twine ran with the current of the river, a sea of blue and white now encased with a piece of the Ape below you. It was not important to him any longer, both of Noa’s hands reaching up and grasping at your hips. Without hesitation as you had been when you touched his fingers the first time in the same water that was drenching you, Noa had you flipped and pushed into the sediment below, only your lower halves resting in the water now. The whiteness of your t-shirt were scorned with dirt and mud, Noa’s eyes able to see the pure outline of your chest and the pit in his stomach dropped even further than his diaphragm, closer to the primal intent and notions he had towards you that were kept under lock and key. 

Noa’s hands adjusted your frame under him before he grasped at the dirt at either side of your head to keep him leveraged, your eyes capturing the way that the mud and pebbles slipped between his thick fingers in eager anticipation as you imagined him dragging mud along your entire being, encasing you in it and in turn, when you had his way with you, it would press imprints into his fur and you’d make him yours in return. You could hear the tingling of the dirt move as he sunk his claws in, driving his hips forward against your clothed lower body. Groaning wildly at that, you hands drove themselves into his forearms, straight to the skin and seemed to bi-pass any of his fur.

“How… Did it feel?”

Mouth dry, you brought your tongue out to wet them and slid your eyes shut as Noa placed a rather rhythmic pace of breathing above you, seeking to keep himself in a ration mindspace instead of tearing you apart as he so wanted to do in the moment that he had heard that delicious growl sprout from the back of your throat.

“It feels…”

Confusing, Noa would have guessed, dropping a hand as he kept himself from crushing you with one of his hands, a true and savory testament to the fact that he was incredibly strong and only chose to use it in the moments that he felt were needed and grasped the back of your neck to keep you comfortable. That was what you had said before when this conversation first took place. Confused, to which Noa repeated it and beckoned you silently to explain.

“Amazing.”

With your head tilted back in exaltation, Noa spurred himself downwards and with the help of his hand raising your neck in conjecture, his muzzle tickled at your throat. The lines of your jugular, always so far away from him, were suddenly so close… So near… Baring his teeth, Noa’s eyes slid shut, lids fluttering in exhilaration at the taste that exploded into his mouth. So sweaty like you had been nervous to see him, so tender like the most perfectly roasted Elk, so… so carnally sweet like he’d just picked himself a mango and tore into the pulp with his sharpened canines. 

“A-Amazing…” It was your turn to repeat yourself as you arched against him, hands rising and grasping at the back of his neck to keep him smothered against him. “Noa…” He’d never heard his name so desperately said before, your mouth opening for him and only him as he intended. 

Your legs tangled themselves around his waist to keep him leveraged against you as your hands tore into the fur of his taut neck, feeling the muscles shift under your touch with intense scrutiny. There was always that budding fear in your mind that he was able to crush you with one fist. That one hand was going to cause you to die. That you… Would let him, you thought and slid your eyes shut once more as Noa’s wrought hips connected to yours once more.

Your ribs could be crushed by his weight and you’d let him, your hands spiraling down and tightly affixing themselves into his shoulder blades. His hand could hold your entire neck and in one action of pleasure, he could take you out and you’d let him, knowing that you had died under his gaze, enough satisfaction to last more than one lifetime. Feelings you didn't know the reasons behind, touches you felt should have repulsed any other Human… But Noa… A groan escaped your lips again, only this one was harsher as you felt radiating notions of agony encasing your head, following down into your lungs like you were being drowned to death by the Ape above you. “I don’t want to leave…” You whispered, feeling a few tears hit the back of your eyelids at the lingering sensation of pain that started to dull itself along your splintering hairline. “Noa, I’m not ready…” Noa… only hushed you with a small seeth, as your neck was caressed and he brought your head head upwards to the point where he was able to press his forehead against yours, tendering and sealing with a promise that this moment was not just your imagination. He had brought you here, you had brought yourself here… Your solace, your friend, your words lingering in the universe and repeating themselves over and over again.

Love doesn’t need to be understood, love just needs to be embraced. And it was, you realized with ample eyes as flashes of white began hitting your irises. Embraced and then crumbling right before you with no tools to help you clean up afterwards. A chortled cry left your lips as you tried to cling to Noa, trying to hold onto some semblance of the moment to remember it as you were being viciously taken away. You… Didn't want to leave him… Your eyes squeezed shut in adamance. You couldn’t leave him. Your fingers felt tense in the fur you had made their home, your legs falling into the crashing water below and you were unable to move them, and upon inspection as your eyes drew from the soft familiarity of Noa’s face so near your own, you were seeing red. Red from the wounds on your calves, red on your hand as you drew it up to meet your gaze, from the ricocheting wound on his shoulder.

Noa… He was completely lifeless against you suddenly, your body taking the brute force of it and you were being suffocated without reserve. “N-No…” Crying, you tried to push him off of you so you could see his face again, but it was digging itself into the ground near the bend of your neck. There was no way you were getting out, no way to help him…  “No! Don’t leave me please! Noa!”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ Soona could not get her breathing under control, rapid and condenced against her exploding diaphragm. She had counted everyone correctly, their familiar faces all washed with the pain and devastation that now radiated clearly through the crowd as they nestled themselves in the woods, far enough from the char of the village, but close enough to still hear the tumbling of the towers as they came crashing back down to the Earth that supplied their building material. Every crackle was accounted for, every sob and furled in Ape seen by Soona’s eyes. Anaya now being tendered to by another Female Ape who had some experience with injuries, not much as Soona herself was unfamiliar with most. The Eagle Clan--- She wanted to sob, they were peaceful, never had reason to fight or defend themselves, only having minute knowledge of how to take care of bodily injury that was often sustained during fishing, hunting or riding into new territory.

This… She looked over at her Sunset brother and racked her body with a shiver of the utmost devastation, ignoring the clinging of her other brother's blood against her palm. This was beyond any of them…. He had been bitten on the head by a blunt object, falling in and out of consciousness to the point where his words were slurred, Soona wanting him to say something sarcastic or funny in retort but garnered nothing. Soona and Dar were confident he would be alright, just needing to be cared for in the meantime. 

Her green gaze looked at Anaya’s mouth, bloodied as the female with him began cleaning the iron redness away from his lips. He had… Taken an Echo life, the one of very few in the History of the Clan. She was morbid in thought, wondering what it must have felt like to kill such a threat, to succeed but could not bring herself to care anymore about that as she mentally drew on.

He… Would be alright… She told herself over and over again, looking down at the Master of the Birds himself as she had very narrowly managed to do as you had advised. Get the item out from his shoulder, a bullet you had called it.... His breathing was falling between rapid and shallow, Soona herself unsure of what that meant, either too fast or too deep. He… He had spoken nothing to her, not able to tear himself away from the nightmare Soona imagined was playing in his mind, over and over again. She couldn’t get it out of her mind, living not once, but twice through it. She knew nothing of bullets, these Echo Primal weapons that hurt with soot and explosions, not even sure what you meant until the casing came out, covered in soot and Noa’s blood, her fingers shaking as she brought it in to look at. Noa’s blood coated her fingertips, red like… Like the beginning of a sun set.It left a gaping wound there, Soona admiring the depth the projectice had gotten into him, into the dense muscles and shattering them into nothingness. Dar was pressing into it with a flooded piece of cloth, begging to her own Eagle that it was enough to stop the bleeding from a wound not inflicted from an arrow, from a spear or from a fist itself.

Glancing around at the chatter of the other Apes that were around in the woods, the dim fire light of the Clan’s demise was hard to ignore as ash began drizzling down upon then and coated their darkened fur with gray, coughs erupting as it hit inhaling lungs. Everything they… Noa, Anaya and Soona… Everything they had known was gone, soon to be blown by the wind into nothing but bitter memories remembered years from now.

The towering enclosures, so green and lush, laughter coming from every crevice  their nests of familiarity, the steps towards the Eagle Enclosure that Soona and Anaya only traversed, never allowed to actually step into the enclosure itself as they were not an Elder or Noa themselves. She could remember how the wood thickets felt under her calloused touch as she and Anaya waited for Noa’s meetings to be over, to pester him about them to see if they could get any details out of him. She knew how it felt to have the gentle breeze pulling at her fur as Anaya chewed annoyingly on a mango right in her ear. While memories are put into her mind… The places themselves remained in nothing but dank ash and wood pieces that glowed ember. Everything Noa had built since his Father’s death… Gone. The only thing that remained were the Eagles and the Apes themselves, some of the feathery companions seeking comfort with their own Masters while others were sticking themselves around on their twig legs in a desperate attempt to find them in the chaos that was still raining down on them.

Eagle Sun himself was near, perched only a few meters away and observed. The devastation ran through him at the prospect of not having another Master. How could he when he had lost Koro and now a line was drawn in the said and he might lose Noa? Soona looked over her shoulder at him, having sensed his eyes on her back as she looked at the ballet once more. Such a small object able to inflict such rancid injury… Soona’s jaw tightened - They had done the best they could with the evacuation plan that Noa had set in place, one of the first things he had done when he returned from his journey to defeat Proximus and bring his Clan home. They had done the best they could but there was still substantial loss, not just in life, but not there was a glaring hole as to what they were meant to do next? Return to the grounds of which they were raised and see the devastation for themselves? Avoid it at all cost? 

What if…--- Soona’s gaze fell down to Noa who was propped safely in his Mother’s lap, lapsing in moments of vividness of agonistic strenuous sounds coming from the back of his throat, Noa’s larg hands at his sides squeezing themselves into fists at Dar’s soft movements. His head being held so tenderly as she whispered to him, words Soona was unable to detect but no doubt they were words of encouragement to get him to wake, get him to stabilize and come back to her as she must have feared losing more than the rest of them. She tried to ignore that, her heart churning as Noa’s breathing turned languid, his ribs catching themselves on fire with every action. Dar figured that he had a few broken, in the dark of the night though, it was hard to deduce that for sure. Noa jerked - Suddenly and sharply, his entire body springing as if he had been poked directly in the middle of his foot by a sharp needle and it radiated pain throughout his entire body. Gasps were taken, hard and ragged as blood coughed out from his lungs, falling from his mouth and onto Dar who went to grasp him, to get him to lay back down.

Movement - She said calmly to her Son, it was only going to cause more problems but that didn't matter to Noa as his pupil blew eyes scattered across the scene. His heart felt like it would fall right out of his chest at that moment, trying to draw in another breath to keep himself stable but to no avail. It burned to the deepest core of him, his right shoulder exploding and yelling at him as he had moved so rapidly, the cloth that Dar had been using to help keep the injury sustained was lost in the shuffle as Noa tried to trudge himself to his feet as Soona grasped his good shoulder. “Noa! No! You---Need rest… Should not move!” She looked down desperately at Dar who raised herself to grasp her son's forearm and bring him down but he refused to love as his feet dug into the Earth below. The Clan, he could feel the redness under his eyelids from stress induced fighting. Noa felt the shift of the Earth between his toes at the longing notion that you had come to see him and come to bid him goodbye in order to save them all. 

Moving his mouth to an open position, he rested his flocked gaze on the young Apes who were clinging so desp… Desperately to their Mother’s chest as the realization finally ran up to him and knocked him back down, Noa collapsed against his Mother with a fevered growl of pain that ran down his arms, that ran through his entire body and refused to relent any of the control it had on his senses. Noa wanted to roll into Dar at that moment, telling her that he needed her embrace, he needed her wisdom… Something to tear him out of the nightmare that was too close to his heart.

Blood shot eyes looked straight at Soona, the feral unable to read them for a split second as she felt a piece of her own self died. Noa… Was not there, or he was and he was so far gone in the throes of death itself that this was going to be the last moment she’d see the green in his eyes at all. “We… Got everyone out… Anaya is here, safe.” Soona’s voice was surprisingly calm despite the severity of Noa’s glance, the Ape momentarily squeezing them shut in a plea to get her out of his head and to stop answering the questions that were running through him. Too many to process, to many to remember in the hazed wake of injuries riddling his body and the suffocation that was taking place inside of his lungs. Noa wanted to wake up again in the meadow with you, near the water and take a long hard drink of both of you. 

 He--- There was no way he was not dead, at least for a brief moment as red flashed in front of his vision and he felt his equilibrium shatter,, agony tracing itself along the back of his skull and causing his neck to feel adversely stiff. Fingers felt hurt, dirt rising and falling into his already thick fingernails, his palms having inflicted a few sharp rocks against them nothing more than a tattered mess of cuts. Face was colored red from the vicious nature of cuts along the side of his right face, one under his left eye and a deep gash that rested on his chin, engraining itself into the fur of his beard. 

There was no explanation for it, seeing you so close to him, having you hold him so tenderly at the moment where things started to go wrong, the both of you playing cards at the replay that should have been the way it went in reality. Noa reached out for it again, his hands shaking, one able to move with the use of his shoulder and the other lifeless to the drop of his fingers itself. He could not hold you even if you were here, but he’d will himself to try.

Noa--- Swore to the Eagles above, he would force himself even if it meant pulling himself through the coals. You were his and he was going to hold onto that for the rest of his life. But… For you to be there with him in that moment of tenderness, of unspoken want and attentiveness… Meant only one thing, Noa thought and tried to squeeze that out of his mind just long enough to get a proper status from Soona who had stopped speaking once she sensed that Noa wasn’t asking her to. “All…” Noa gritted his teeth together and felt Dar pressing her hand onto his head, something that even now, comforted him much like it did when he was only a young Chimp, “All destr-destroyed?”

“E-everything,” There was a loud sob behind her from one of the Chimpanzee families at the confirmation, followed by chattering as they began gossiping amongst themselves that Noa was alive but everything that had been rebuilt was dead. Dead, Noa repeated seeing your smile flash in front of his eyes. No… No. “Eagle Enclosure---” 

Noa felt words were getting stuck in the back of his throat but he needed to--- He gasped… He needed to make sure that all he had built in his Father’s name was not lost.  “All got out?” “Yes.” Soona’s voice was a cry of joy in the otherwise sullen situation.

Noa gritted his teeth again and nodded. Good. There was only one thing left he needed to ask, letting his eyes slide into Dar’s for a moment and sought intense solace in her touch on him as if she were preparing him for the worst of the news. Something she had to experience herself only a year and a half ago. “Al-All of the Echo’s?” Soona hesitated with her words, knowing it to be a loaded question even in her tired and frayed mind, “All of them?” Noa swallowed hard, regretting it the moment he set forth the action as his throat was incredibly dry and he felt the saliva lingering in his stomach like bile that began rising itself back up in anticipation of the answer, “Was---- Was.. M… My Echo… here?” Splitting his voice as it rested in a deeper baritone with the question, it was splattered with self-loathing if Noa dared suspect what he was thinking. He tried to ignore the way it felt to say, past tense. Yes… You were there, Noa had seen you with his own eyes, felt your touch and smelled your blood. You were there! For him… Kissing his forehead with your own… You were… Was… Were…Was… Soona only nodded, looking away and back towards the glow of the fire in the distance to confirm his suspicions. “Sh…” Sobbing slightly, Dar felt him shaking against him and gave Soona a warning glance. With his ribs in the state they were, they were more prone to damage if Noa moved too viciously as they could puncture his lungs or another organ. Soona looked right back at her, apologetic in her expression but she knew Noa just as well, he would not stop asking, he would not stop obsessing unless she gave him the answers to the questions he was asking with his mouth and with his mind. Better to rip this off now even though he was injured, Soona thought, and if he felt the urge to meet you wherever you had grasped him and beckoned him, then that was up to Noa himself. “Have sent two Apes to get her,” Soona explained softly, hunching in on herself and scooting towards her friend, “Could… not get close enough, the fire…” “Send me.” “Noa-” “SEND ME.” His voice ran through the entire group of Apes that were around, heightened silence following as everyone looked towards the tone of Noa. Eyes upon eyes that matched, all on him. Noa didn't care if they were. They could stare holes into him until he brought his bloodied body next to your own so he could grasp at your hair, bringing your forehead to his once more. Where you belonged, where he belonged.

“She is dead.” 

Dar said to the Ape she had her grasp on, feeling Noa stiffen more and more with each word. He didn't blink as he rose his eyes upwards towards Eagle Sun who had been intent on watching his Master’s every move with baited breath, waiting for a command, waiting for a purpose. Stagnant, Dar looked at the side of her Son’s face, so familiar to her in the moment but so far in his gaze as he stared off into nothing, repeating over and over again the three words she just spoke to him, the first three she had spoken to him. Not dead, impossible, he uttered inside of his mind. He… Noa’s mouth fell open in a silent plea. “Saw… her…” “My Son…” There was lingering assurance in Dar’s voice as she tried to display for him the power that he was going to need to overcome this, having done just that when Koro was taken from her. Nipped in the bud for her child, never coming to fruition but the pain itself was unbearable and there was nothing she knew could be done as he reached up and grabbed the forearm she had around him, so tightly that Noa felt he was going to pull the fur straight out from her skin. Dar let it sink in, holding onto him all that tighter. “I---” Harshly, Noa pulled himself away from the confines he loved so deeply and splattered himself onto the ground, straight on his face without time to even catch himself. Enjoying the sediment in his mouth as it seemed to alighten his senses, Noa lifted himself up onto his one good arm and staggered artistically to his feet, his balance unequivocal and unmatched, fire scathing through his blood. 

“I SAW HER.” Crying out, he gestured his one good arm towards the general direction of the stream from the flooded vision he had of you still seering into his retinas. Every touch lighting him on ablaze, sending skyrockets down his spine at the idea that he was about to take you as his own and you were going to let him, exaltations being breathed against Noa’s face, against his neck as you pleaded with your body. 

Take me, take me… Never once did he think about it being towards death itself, your body pleading for it to take you away. Never once, it was only meant for Noa. There was no way you were gone, Noa laughed bitterly to himself and felt his head tip backwards. No, no no… The way that your hands felt in his fur were too real, the way that your words felt to him, driving down the deepest parts of his mind. No--- Noa laughed for only a second before he drew his face into a flattened stance. You were not dead, he decided. You could not be dead witho--- Without saying goodbye to him!

 “I fe--- felt her… Touching… Water… Under…me….” Coherency was lost as Noa stumbled to find the words to say, or to even sign but nothing made sense anymore. Nothing without you… Made sense. Without reserve, Noa roared your name in hopes that you were able to hear him in the bitter darkness encased with oranges and flurrying snowflakes of ash. Noa whimpered. 

He needed you to hear him.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Noa had been watching you for what felt like days upon days, but that’s how it felt now when he drew his attention towards you. Things slowed down so he could start to take in the more minute details about you that he hadn’t thought about beforehand. The way that you talked to him, the way that your body held itself next to him all spoke to Noa of how you were getting more comfortable, more accepting of the Clan…Of… Of him. 

The way that the fire you were perched in front of played against your face, casting shadows along your nose and along the curves of your lips pulled his body towards your own, the shuffling of the cloak and the beating of the necklaces against his chest all amplified at how you smiled towards Soona who had give you a wave, followed by you throwing your head back in a laugh when Anaya came tumbling up to her and almost tackled her to the ground. Noa paused then to catch the pulsation of your heartbeat against the delicate nature of your neck.

The ceremony ended in success, Noa having gotten the approval he so sought from his Father, from his Mother and from the Elders. A new generation of Apes, Noa looked over at them as they chatted amongst each other about their eggs, about what their bird might look like and what temperament they might have, bonded and secured with one of the companions that would see them through life. Next ceremony for them would be the Mating prospect, something that lingered in even Noa’s mind as he was rounding that age and got consistently pestered from the Elders regarding. 

Noa listened to their praises, to his Mother as she drew him in and placed his forehead against her own, telling her son how proud she was and how proud she knew his Father would be of the Ape he had grown into. He listened, but he did not care to linger as you were like gravity itself, circling him in. He did not care to let them talk about his life and what they wanted from him as he knew you never did that. You--- Noa shuffled himself near the log you were sitting on. You were open and accepting to him it seemed, not just the Master of the Birds, not just the Leader of the Clan, but just… Noa. And something deep inside of him awakened and wanted to know why.

“Should join.” The Chimp urged, watching as you jumped. His look was apologetic as he took the seat next to you, knowing he must have scared you to garner that sort of reaction as your breathing picked up and you placed a hand against your chest, Noa captivated by that movement and how inherently Echo--- No… He corrected himself with a tilt of his head, how inherently you it was.

Feeling your heart now resting in the back of your throat and knowing no amount of swallowing was going to help, you looked up at Soona as she was adorned with a feather in a twined headdress that was tangled delicately with turquoise beads, metallic cloves and smoothed pebbled and hollowed beads. All the colors that rested in the orange and tan twine of the headdress right at the top base of her ear were brilliant, the tracing of feathers around the back of her head so enticing as it looked like a crown from a faded children's book you used to have before the pages fell out. She was beautiful, radiating with color against your eyes as the communal bonfire shone brilliantly against her fur and gave the appearance of being dipped in delicious honey.

 “Bond ceremony… Very important to the young Apes. Coming of Age. Ape… Share our feathers with each other, bond to the Eagle Clan.”

Parted lips seemed to echo his words as you were processing them, urging yourself to say something in return but you were remarked by how all of the Apes in the area were wearing similar headdresses, female and male. You drew your attention to Anaya’s. Structurally the same to Soona’s, gray, black and blue feathers lining the round of his head as he held a bundle of the feathers, freshly preened, in his fist to give to his fellow Apes.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” You complimented Noa with a soft smile, Noa himself throwing caution to the wind and listened to your praises as they meant more to him now than ever before, “I had to have Soona explain what was happening but it--- It was so beautiful, you were---”

Tapering softly, you drew your bottom lip in and chewed it viciously. When it was brought back to light and covered in your saliva, Noa felt a lick of temptation to bring his mouth down upon it. “You-you were great.”

Mentally, you felt like beating yourself at the notion that you had been conditioned your entire life to think that they were savages with no culture, no sense of self or worth outside of killing Humans. But this entire display, from the powerful stance of Noa himself as he talked to the young Apes embarking on the most important aspect of their lives, so careful and gentle as he knew how important it was, having to feel the heavy crown his Father gave him upon death as your eyes skidded towards his own adornment of feathers along his skull. More than Anaya and Soona, you noted, fluttered and soft to the touch, you wanted to reach up and drag your fingers through just to test if he’d let you that close.

From the closeness he had to you, seated, you were able to see the pull and push of his breathing, feeling it against your face as you admired the art and sacred nature of his headdress. It… Was beautiful… Noa… 

Your gaze dropped into his own for a moment, the heat of the fire you were resting near the only excuse you had for the grazing of red that catapulted against your cheeks. Noa was too. The sweeping lines of wrinkles that took over under his eyes, happy little dances downwards towards his minorly hollowed cheeks, the ajar stance his mouth had giving you the most vicious view of only his canines as you imagined them sinking into you, wondering if it felt better to just succumb than to pretend that things hadn’t been changing, the way that his fur was whitened around his mouth and under his bottom lip and got darker around the edges of his face.

You hadn’t thought it to yourself, but you supposed this was the first time that you had been this close to him in a more intimate setting, opting to keep distance on the table as a means of not getting too emotionally attached. But, it was so hard when he looked at you like that, your head tilting and pouring your eyes into his golden, green and hazeled stance that was unwavering. Noa was striking and he deserved praise, if only you were willing to be strong enough to give it.

 A screech startled you as Eagle Sun, having sensed the very conversation previously talked about, came and bid you welcome, jumping onto the ground between your legs and moving forward with a few bounces. You smiled at him, pressing a tender ‘hello’ to his beak which Noa watched with heightened interest, mild jealousy seeping at the idea that you were so willing to touch his feathery companion but always showed such reserve when you were around him. Avoiding flurried eye contact, Noa sought yours in those moments and yearned for you to return but you were not allowing yourself to do it any longer, the sensation of your heart too heavy in your chest and noticeable to Noa as he firmly had his feet planted on the ground.

“This is…” You whispered, shamefully as you drew your hand back inwards to tightly hold yourself. Feeling the feathers of the cloak that Noa was dressed in, having just commenced and finished the ceremony himself, came to rest next to you out of all people instead of taking in the celebrations with his own. You knew this behavior from him was a way of getting himself to open up to you, to learn more about the Apes so you did not fear them. 

But, somewhere along the way, the fear that you held and the animosity that always bubbled right under the surface turned into adoration and admiring. How you looked at Noa as he explained things to you that you did not understand, how you wanted him to hold your hand and drag you along with him, your fingers twitching in eagerness to hold onto his grip and never let go. Drawing your knees in, you looked down at them and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t think I should be a part of it. I’m still just a human.”

Echo, Noa whispered inside of his mouth and let his gaze flicker along the side of your face as you pretended to be interested in the fire as a means to avoid eye contact. Sure… Echo only in appearance, Noa wanted to tell you and give you reassurance but he was afraid to fall over that threshold by being too bold.

Sure, Echo only in some aspects like privacy, still a strange concept to the Ape who had walked in on you dressing once and proceeded to get yelled at. Noa only regretted it for a moment though, thinking about it now as he was able to still spot in his memories the way your flesh looked in the fire light, the urge to see it again incredibly great as he nodded in understanding. Glancing down at his hand, Noa shoved the headpiece he had for you back into the sack around his waist and instead opted to raise a blue feather from Eagle Sun himself right into your vision. 

Staring at it, almost cross-eyed, your lips parted in question but before you were able to say anything, Noa muttered to you, “Something… thing to remember… first ceremony with the Eagle Clan.” “Noa, I’m not a part of the Cla---” The Chimp was adamant, grasping your hand tightly into his own, your skin seemingly falling to pieces at this as he had never touched you with such intended force and for a second, you thought that he was going to break your hand. Swallowing lightly, you looked down at the contact that was made, Noa sensing your sudden instinct to fight and loosened up a bit before he brought the feather down into your forced open palm. “Please.” An invisible gasp left your lips at that as you only nodded silently, Noa’s hand hesitantly moving away from yours as he brought himself to his feet, knowing he needed to mingle with the other Apes and not spend his entire night dotting with you. Noa would though… Without hesitation, the thought ran rampant in his mind and for the second time that evening, your eyes met and Noa felt that same pull that dragged him over here in the first place. The scope of his entire body was laid in front of you. The swagger of his stance, so strong and sweeping with confidence that your words had brought him, his shoulder dressed with such beautiful detailing, years and generations of Apes history in every feather. You scooted your glance down to the feather in your hand and then back upwards to Noa, your expression telling him you were undeserving, you were not worthy of his kindness towards you, things should have never ended up this way. Noa looked down at you with eagerness to see you swallow the feather in your grasp as a form of acceptance.

If you accepted this… Noa’s heart raced as he brought his feet inward a bit to help you, fingers barely tickling along your knuckles to tell you to close your hand. If you accepted this, Noa could go after you. Noa could give any excuse in the book to the Elders that you were just as deserving as any other Female Ape that wanted his attention, that sought to be the future with him. His hand was hot and heady against your clammy fingers as you drew them in. Slowly, not breaking the eye contact that he was sure to keep stable with the flickering intent that was resting behind them. Silence but deathly in its grasp. “T-Thank you.” You barely managed to whisper with a choked cry, “I- N-never thought I’d… find….” Noa drew a deep breath in and held your hand tightly in his own, “Will always be a part of the Eagle Clan. You are free to do as you wish here. Find family… Friends, a life. May even find….” You rested on the contact he had with your body and swallowed lightly, “Find what?” “Mate. We all find one… Someday.”

Maybe not now, maybe we’re not ready, he told you quietly with his touch, desperate that his thoughts were getting across to you.  We’ll fly around this, we’ll find our way back to each other if we get separated, Echo and Human. I do not understand you, you do not understand me but there is something more here, something that needs to be brought to warmth and comfort to be hatched. Feathers of a bird. 

Noa smiled at you with a small huff escaping from his nose, your eyes watching his nostrils flare and settle with acute attention to how he moved, genuine for the first time and before you could say anything else to him, he was gone as you opened your hand once more and peered longingly at the feather.

Blue, special from Eagle Sun’s underwing that you enjoyed preening. Blue. You looked at the back of Noa’s head at an adjoining and matching feather. Bringing it upwards to your lips, you lightly pressed a kiss to the item and tucked it behind your ear in a silent ceremony of your own.

If he would accept you here, as you were, you’d be more than willing... You would become a part of the Eagle Clan.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ TAG LIST: @ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

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[necstasy]

cannot stop thinking about being both paul and irulan's concubine. an imperial whore of all sorts 😫

honestly, they just KNEW what they were doing with that casting. UGGHH !!

scissoring, oral, r described as a girl & PRINCESS IRULAN + PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+

you represent different things for both of them.

for irulan, you're an outlet. you're not as much experimentation as you are familiar territory. her teenage years were spent with girls like you. girls who looked at her with stars in their eyes and kissed her entirely too gently. girls who fawned over her beauty yet appeared just as beautiful beneath her.

so when she's with you, when you start to behave like the girls she left behind to marry the emperor, irulan falls back into her old pattern. it's dizzying to finally be wanted again. it's addicting to feel a pretty girl shiver and shake beneath her fingers, with assurance that the courteous and honest act of admiration will be returned onto her soon thereafter.

for paul, you're a different form of familiarity. you're familiar in ways of a dream, deja vu, or perhaps a memory slipping through his fingers. you remind him of chani in small ways. the way your chin tilts up when he addresses you. the way you'll teach him something, but only if he asks you to. the way you can be headstrong, usually when you're in his quarters, stripped of your responsibilities and your clothes.

you're not supposed to deny the emperor anything, especially as his concubine, but disobedience comes naturally to you. like the time you'd visited him on arrakis, away from corrino and irulan for just a bit, and paul's overzealous attitude had you on the brink of releasing copious amounts of fluids along his lithe hips and short tuft of pubes.

you weren't a layman, you understood the necessity of fluids on arrakis. so you refused and refused, trying to push paul away as you neared the brink. but paul ordered you to release all over him. he assured you that you would be fine, and it wouldn't be a sign of disrespect to unnecessarily lose this much fluid in one go because you were doing it at the hands of their leader.

paul won't lay with irulan, but he'll lay with you after her. when your skin still smells faintly of flowers and greenery. when you still have her fluids combined with yours between your legs.

you see the way he revels in the evidence of irulan on your body. you notice the way he nuzzles his head between your thighs when irulan's arousal still coats your skin. his tongue, warm and flat, runs along your skin, cleaning you up. and he'll groan afterwards, allowing himself a moment to rest his forehead against your inner thigh, just taking it all in.

he'll seek you out when you're with her, uncaring of the way your naked bodies writhe against each other atop irulan's bed. and he can just come join you two. you always give him a few moments, stretching longer and longer each time he does it. you won't stop, your hips still gliding to and fro, dragging your cunt against irulan's all while you stare at the emperor.

but paul will stand still. his hands clasped behind his back, his curly hair hanging over his hardened face, his expression stoic even when you can see the way his throat bobs and his eyebrows twitch.

he'll often say the same thing. "must you finish here, first?" or something along the lines. and then he'll leave you be, waiting in his own quarters with a rock hard dick nestled beneath linen fabric.

but there's one time—just once where his cobalt eyes appeared weary before morphing into desire. he licked his lips, his fingers twitching against his sides as he hungrily took in the sight before him.

irulan noticed it as well as you did. she began to put on a show.

the empress has always had melodic moans, but she began to emphasize them. with your mouth latched onto her cunt, irulan made sure paul knew how good you were making her feel.

when you heard the sound of paul approaching you both, excitement flooded your body. finally paul would allow himself simple pleasures. and he did, starting with pulling your mouth off of irulan's cunt and tasting her off of your own tongue. when he seemed satisfied at a taste he knew as well as he knew yours, he gently urged you out of the way, and assumed the position of a dutiful husband.

[bits-and-babs]

✰ 𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐘 - 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “Shall we put that mouth to better use?” — A particularly crass comment over the radio almost exposes your secret situationship with Ghost.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. Violence, murder, injury detail, slight jealous Simon, secret relationship, panties as a gag, size kink, p in v sex, punishment, soft!dom-sub dynamic, tied wrists.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

“Taking out the trash, Ghost?”

You shouldn’t have said it– It just slipped out. A reference to a ridiculous joke that Soap had made over the coms once. You can hear the Scotsman giggling over the radio, evidently finding your remark hilarious. 

“You’re pushing it now, Delta,” Ghost’s gruff accent crackles across the coms, the thud of a body slumping to the floor punctuating his warning. It’s terrible, really. You watch him work through a wall of mercenaries, jabbing his serrated huntsman’s knife into the soft walls of their jugular veins and shooting them through the temple with a silenced gun while you observe from the relative safety of the CCTV centre. “It’s like I’ve got deja vu.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” you mumble, trying to move past your obvious overstep. 

“You’ve been spendin’ too much time with Soap,” Ghost cuts through your quiet apology like the throats of the men that crumple to his feet. “Gonna start assignin’ you missions with Alejandro instead.”

The spluttering disbelief of the Scotsman on the line just makes you smile, shaking your head at the jealousy Simon was attempting to disguise with authority. You watch him peek over the crate he’s hidden behind, scanning for hostiles. 

“To the left, Lieutenant,” you advise him to advance. He crouches his gigantic body as low to the ground as he can, flipping the knife handle in his hand for a better grip. The blood of his victims paints his hands dark on the grainy black and white footage of the CCTV cameras. Soap ceases his wordless, bumbling protests while you both hold your breaths, waiting for Ghost to take the mercenary out. 

It’s a simple dispatch. Simon plunges the crimson-laden blade into the neck of the unsuspecting target and lowers the body to the floor as he scrambles at his neck desperately. You hear the choking death rattles over the radio before he falls silent.

“She’s learnin’ from the best, L.t.,” Soap continues, finally piecing his incoherent sounds into a sentence. You hear the muted scoff on the other end of the mic and can’t help the giggle that falls past your lips. 

“There’s a lot more where that came from,” you smile, watching Ghost clear the courtyard. The members of Task Force 141 watch from the shadows, readying for his approval to advance and open fire on the inhabitants of the abandoned construction site that the local drug lords appropriated as a central hub. 

“How ‘bout we put that mouth to better use?” Simon answers with little thought, the coquettish comment catching the attention of the others on the line.

Gaz whistles, and you hear Alejandro chuckle. 

“L.t!” Soap speaks up, and you can tell that he’s grinning from the smug tone of his voice, “A little saucy, don’t ya think?” 

“Careful, Sergeant.”

No one dares speak up again, the silence over the coms only broken when Ghost gives the order. Conversation is replaced with the roar of bullet spray and bodies thumping to the floor.

                                                    ✰

Arousal coats your tongue as Simon’s gloved fingers shove the cotton fabric of your panties into your mouth. You whimper softly, tears welling in your eyes at the burning stretch. Ghost had thrust into you all at once, the blunt head of his cock searing up against your cervix and blooming white hot in the pit of your stomach. 

“Shush,” Simon scolds you, but his gruff voice holds no malice. It’s punishment, you think, retribution for putting him in a position where your little trysts could have been found out. Of course, there’s no real blame aimed at you, but Ghost likes having a reason to penalise you, so to speak. 

You choke back a sob, feeling the rippling muscles of his abdomen rear up beneath your fingertips and thrust deep inside you. He’s bruising your guts like this, settling you on top of his hips as he lies back. Wrists bound behind your back with a crystal-white zip tie, your skin blooms with a bruise as you kneel helplessly over his cock, forced to take whatever he gives. 

“Got nothin’ to say, love?” The midnight black of Ghost’s mask conceals the smirk you know is tugging on his plush lips, and you can just barely make out the gleam in his eyes through the murkiness of the tears welling at your waterline. The sweet taste of your own slick soaked into the cotton of your panties gags you, and you can only manage a desperate shake of your head before Simon brutally thrusts up into you.

The ache is brutal, each savage stroke rattling your lungs and jolting your body upwards. Your nails dig into the soft skin stretched across Simon’s rock-hard abdomen, and you hear him groan beneath the balaclava fabric. His huge palms swallow your hips, digits burying into the flesh there.

“Be good for me, love,” he growls, “Nice and quiet now.” 

It’s pointless, you just barely think. The cot beneath you is so rickety that you’re sure that the team will hear the squeaking of the metal frame even past the stone walls of the safehouse you all shared for the night. 

A fierce snap of Ghost’s hips winds you, a squeak working past the bunched-up fabric of your panties stuffed in your mouth. Your head lolls back, eyes rolling as his cockhead punches up against something mind-numbing. It sparks white-hot plasma across your skin, tendrils spidering down your spine. 

“C’mon,” he urges, the rumble in his voice almost breathy with exertion, “Stay quiet, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You can’t. As the orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach with how Simon’s cock batters something blissful inside you, needy, muffled wails of bliss worm their way up your throat despite your best efforts to swallow them down. You needn’t bother because Ghost is too far gone to care who hears, chasing his high with a strained choke of your name.

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[livelaughlovesubs]

Hii can I request teaching Bram how to ride you after he just got his body back after so many centuries?

Heyyy, Ofc you can! I love riding sm- also sorry for taking so long (also I kinda made it romantic for no reason sorry)😭

Dom!reader x sub!bram

Warning: the beginning is fluff only - aka romance (kinda meh I’m sorry), nsfw under the cut, pegging (I use dick), riding, fingering, praise kink, soulmates (?)

It was like a miracle that you found him, as if destiny desperately wanted to play a prank.

You were going on a walk, aimlessly wandering around with no special purpose. Life has been treating you well, though you have been feeling an unexplainable yearning for a long time now. As if a part of you was missing, something very dear and important to you, enough to leave you with a sense of emptiness. Every single day you’ve been doing this, walking along the shore of Yokohama. It was almost laughable how much you trusted your guts, on some days you’d feel pretty pathetic because of it but you’d still do it anyway.

Not even you could explain why, you only followed instincts.

That was until today, until this moment where you finally understood what your purpose in life was. There he was, standing amidst the sand in front of the setting sun. The vibrant colours of the dusk blending into a skilfully created masterpiece. The horizon was hanging low, making it possible to see far into the distance. A black shadow stood out, all alone, quietly, gazing into the far ocean while the waves splashed against the beach.

It wasn’t rare for people to take a stroll around here, especially during such a cinematic time and period. Though never have you ever been so mesmerised by such encounters. Something about that person was different, once again your guts told you so. When you got closer to the figure, you noticed his long silver hair fluttering in the breeze, along with his coat. You were still contemplating on how to approach him, when to your dismay the person turned around and looked you straight into the eyes. For a moment, it was as if your soul escaped your body.

As if your heart stopped beating, your lungs failed to function, the shock and uniqueness of this meeting causing you to hold your breath. He was just so beautiful.

With newfound determination, you walked up to him and introduced yourself, apologising for being sudden. His eyes were a wine red, a bright yet most elegant shade of crimson you’ve ever seen. The expression he wore was nothing special, even so it still touched your heart like nothing words alone could describe. It was weird, you didn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe he was worth believing in. When he heard your name, his eyes widened and his pupils shook, lips slightly parted as if to showcase his sharp fangs. “You..” That person began, then stopped themselves. He bawled his hands into fists while his cheeks reddened. You noticed how his breathing became ragged, and you were almost worried about him before he continued with, “I’m glad to see you are back.”

“I see you really don’t remember.. well, my name is Bram, Bram Stoker.” It would be an understatement to say you weren’t surprised by his words. On one hand his name seemed so familiar, it gave you Deja vu, yet on the other hand you couldn’t remember. Apparently this man was a vampire, who only recently reclaimed his human body. A vampire who lived hundreds of years, who was your fated lover in a previous century. This was hard to believe, even for someone like him who was mystical in every way possible. To think his mortal lover would get reincarnated and meet him in another life time, waiting for him to return like this.

As soon as you met him, learned his name, the hole inside your heart vanished. Dissipating like the fog on a dreamy morning. Destiny was truly unpredictable, it brought forth surprises no one could be prepared for. This made you curious, also a little awkward. He was your lover in another life, would it be appropriate to repeat the same process in this one as well? And, you wanted to know how your previous self was like. The two of you sat down on a bench in a park near the strand, facing the warm blanket that covered the sky while it slowly sank into cold tones. He told you storied from the good ol’ times, answered your every question with patience as he looked at you with the same yearning he described to have had decades ago.

What was there not to love about him? It seems like the previous you adored him for the exact same reasons. When the question of intimacy popped up, it appeared to make the male to falter. He took a moment to remember the times you two would do the deed, and his face immediately flushed red. That only made you even more curious, what did you do to make him all flustered like this? At first he was reluctant to tell you, due to his own embarrassment, then he remembered how you and his other love are basically the same person. In the end, he succumbed to your stubbornness to know.

“You’d do… well, this and that.. and make me, er, do that and what not..” Great. You understood everything. “Moving on, if we went that far, did we kiss?” Once again his face heat up, but this question didn’t embarrass him to the point he couldn’t answer. “Yea, you.. kissed me a lot. Awfully often.” Hah, sounds just like you. “Is that so? Then, please pardon me.” You said in a quiet tone, gently tugging his hair behind his long ears before kissing his lips. Despite him getting caught off guard, he didn’t pull away, instead he returned the kiss. Closing his eyes as he reminded himself of how much he missed this feeling.

It seems the partner fate decided for you wasn’t talented in explaining, or at least not in these matters. Since he didn’t expose many details except the fact that you made him do this and that, you had to take a guess yourself. In the end, you invited him over to your home near the beach, deciding to find out whether or not you two were compatible in bed. You lied down on the soft mattress, ordering him to come closer and climb on top of you. Then you asked, “did the other me also made you do this?” He nodded, looking away in shame. How cute.

You grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed its content onto your length, noticing how he was staring at you with shrinking pupils. “You can take this, right?” He didn’t reply, he only bit his own bottom lip. Since he haven’t answered you yet, you didn’t continue, staring up at him and waiting for him to respond. “I was never… actively on top. I-… what should I do?” Bram eventually admit, his eyes were half lidded, to the point only a thin line could be seen. “It’s alright, I’ll teach you.” You chuckled, before holding his slim waist and making him hover above your pelvis. “Ah..” he gasped as electricity coursed through his body, his breathing was becoming more shallow with each passing second.

“First, you have to prepare yourself.. may I be so bold as to claim you have never done this with anyone but me?” It wasn’t a bold claim, it was the truth. The vampire nodded, still lingering over you with a slightly arched back. “Then use your hand and stick a finger inside yourself, but don’t rush it, alright?” You whispered into his ear, then you grabbed his wrist to squeeze some lubricant onto his fingers. “Use this, it will the easier that way.” Bram tried to follow your orders, clumsily inserting his middle finger inside his hole. His rim tensed first, then loosened up, permitting him entrance. “Hnng- hah, is this.. right?” He asked you, looking for guidance. “Yea, just like that. Once you feel ready, do the same with a second finger before scissoring them.”

My.. how humiliating. Now the prince of the dead was spreading himself open in front of some mortal, putting on a degenerate display only for your amusement. The worst was it felt good. He bit down some more onto his lips, to the point blood was running down his chin. You leaned closer to him and clasped your hand over his, then sticked one of your fingers inside him along with his. “Ah- you..! What are yo-you, hmNn.!!” Damn it, you were still a tease just like before. Out of nowhere you also licked the trail of blood away, savouring every drop and licking your lips afterwards. Who was the vampire now, huh?

“HgNn…ah, haah.. is this enough?” Bram was already panting like crazy, feeling his body shudder uncontrollably. You pulled your hand away, feeling the sticky liquid stick to your fingers like gum. He had a dazzled look on his face, almost as if he was melting due to the pleasure. The way you handled him was just like your previous incarnation, even the way you tackled all of his weak spots as if you still knew them. “Hmm, you tell me, do you feel ready enough to take me?” Once again he couldn’t answer you, only glaring at you as he slowly sank down onto your dick. He took his precious time doing so, gently going down at you. Everything was going smoothly until he took half of you in.

You couldn’t even ask him before he complained, “it.. it’s too big.. hahh, I can’t ta-take more….” Ah, he was so adorable. “It’s alright, take your time dear, I won’t rush you, I’ve been waiting for you all this time after all.” He nodded while clenching his eyes shut, focusing sorely on the feeling of you stretching his insides. Fuuuuuck…. It was too overwhelming, too good. After not being active for so long, he was like a virgin again. “I.. I really can’t, it’s so de-deep..! Uh-unghh.” All you did in response to his whines was draw circles on his sides with your thumbs, as well as whispering sweet praises into his ears. Sweet words of encouragement reached him, as in, “Don’t worry you are doing so well, it’s alright, I’m here.”

Eventually he managed to take all of you in, at the expense of his rationality. Not a single logical thought plagued his mind, all he could think about was the bliss spreading to every fever of his nerves. When he sat down on top of you completely, he couldn’t fathom it at first. By that time tears were dripping down his face while inaudible sobs left his mouth. “Good job, Bram, so good for me. Now, grind your hips this way.. right, just like that.. and slowly move up and down. Heh, that’s my good boy.” While you gave him instructions on how to move his body your hands also gently showed him the way. They were still around his waist, nudging him into the right directions.

He shook his hips so erotically, it send a shiver down your spine. Before long he was jumping up and down your cock while your hands forced him to move rougher, your own body snapping against his to trust into him harder. “UghNnnhh.!! Ha-hahhhh! Oh, it’s.. go-good, so UhmM!” Bram gasped and groaned, losing himself to the ecstasy as he exposed more and more of his hidden desires to you. And you were enjoying yourself room of course. You were feeding on his pleasure, loving every single moment. He really was your destined partner, your fated other half.

It seems destiny wasn’t playing a prank on you, rather, it was using you to write an unforgettable love story.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Welcome Back.

From the moment those tall iron gates— elegant and ebony—swing open and you pass through them, a dizzying nostalgia floods into you. Here is the line that divided the rest of the world from the campus guard behind its barrier. The air is thick with magic, tasting sweet as you sip it.

This feeling, you think, head buzzing from the thrill, can be matched by nothing else.

You’re in a crowd, allowing yourself to be swept up by it and carried along its current. Men in casual wear, men in formal suits, men in outlandish and odd attire. All of you, set on the same path down Main Street.

Seven statues stand erect, monuments to seven great historical figures.

The Queen of Hearts, her rounded proportions blossoming from a patch of roses. She holds up part of her skirt with one hand and a heart-topped wand in the other. Her peaceful expression betrays the sternness with which she commands.

The King of Beasts, perched upon a rock that slants up. The lion has persisted and finally scaled the peak. He now looks skyward, his cunning visage locked to and even grander future.

The Sea Witch, tentacles curling amid carved waves. She casually leans back, unfurling a contract in one hand. Sign, and she will bless you with her benevolence.

The Sorcerer of the Sands, appearing in a cloud of sand. He stands, thin and wiry, with his serpent scepter and a hand on his hip. His face is contemplative, mindfully considering visitors.

The Beautiful Queen, svelte and lovely as she steps forth from the smoke, A poisoned apple is suspended from her fingers. She is as tempting as she is tenacious.

The Lord of the Underworld, grinning amid broiling flames. His hands are both lifted, a ball of fire conjured on one fingertip. Playful as he is, the man is diligent in his work.

The Thorn Witch, her horns and tattered robes right at home in the briar. She is poised and elegant, fingers curled at her chest. Truly noble in every way.

You lower your head to them in deference as you pass.

The crowd funnels into a doorway, then into a dimly lit room. It’s circular in design, with several windows, the curtains drawn over them, and floating coffins ringing the outskirts. With the day banished, the only source of light were the apocalyptic green flames emitting from high sconces.

An elaborate crystal chandelier and many pearl lines hang over their heads. They shift in and out of the void, sometimes catching and shining in the glow of the flames.

In the center is a large mirror upon an elevated platform. The frame, an intricate braid. Its surface, dull and dark—as if coated in a layer of coal dust.

This, too, you remember vividly.

But not the small figure standing become the mirror.

They are fitted in a mourning gown of blacks and deep blues. Feathers adorn their chest, scattered iridescent fragments woven into their skirt. A long wispy veil obscures their face—but you swear you can hear an eerie, faint giggle come from behind the gathered fabric.

They lift their hands, beckoning you to draw nearer. You are compelled to obey, your feet drifting.

“Welcome, welcome, one and all,” they announce cheerily.

Your scalp tingles. And they sound so close too. Like a childhood lullaby, a musical box wound up.

“Welcome back to our Night Raven College. It is a pleasure to see you again. How nostalgic.”

Rose gold comes to mind, and you're unsure of why that is. It comes with a familiar feeling--of rediscovering a lost part of yourself, of rose-tinted glasses slipping on and clouding one's vision, of the wonderfulness of meeting an old friend. The color of dawn beckoning a new day.

Who is…?

They reach for their veil and carefully raise it.

Your heart leaps. Deja vu.

A demure smile. Honey-colored eyes staring straight into your soul. Wonder and curiosity radiating off of her.

You suddenly know who it is.

“We’ve missed you, dear alumni.”

[annwe24]

PART 2! SUGAR DADDY! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X READER

Part 1

Summary: Lucifer and you reach a somewhat transactional relationship. However, you find yourself develop feelings for him.

Lucifer finches his eyes when the morning light of Hell finds its way through the thick curtains. Every morning, especially with you, he would lay in bed and let his thoughts wonder for a while. You're still sleeping soundly on his chest but looking at you now is making him feel uneasy. Last night weirded him out. It feels like an omen for bad things to happen. You have never been that straight forward with your feelings. Heck, this whole relationship is a mess itself. He feels guilty for dragging you into this rabbit hole too deep. Perhaps it is the eons of loneliness that he finds it hard to let you go. If letting you go was that easy, he would have let you free from the luxurious cage that he created. He would have deleted your number after your first night. Lucifer is but a fool. A fool never knows if they are one. Yet he continues to be foolish for you, he knows how hard your financial situation is, how you were just willing to do any dirty work to earn some slack. He is the work you’re investing in.

After a few minutes, he finally manages to push himself out of the bed, gentle enough for you not to wake up. You would not want to see him in such a pathetic state and he figures you would want some space. It is a habit at this point. He would wake up, prepare your clothes, cook your breakfast and leave the rest of the house for you. You can either just stay there or leave. You always leave.

…

Please try again after-

The robotic voice doesn't even get to finish the sentence before being shut down. Heavens cannot describe how frustrated he is right now. Where the fuck are you? You're supposed to be all nice and pretty with him right now but it's been fifteen minutes and countless missed calls. Suddenly, his mind clicked. He remembered the club you once mentioned, how it serves as your scapegoat during desperate times. Sighing, he put on his usual white coat and opened a portal leading to the opening of the club.

Whispers and glances follow his every step inside the establishment. He just wishes they were your whispers and glances instead of the state he finds you: wasted in a corner clutching a glass of wine like your life depends on it. You don't even recognize Lucifer when he pats you on the head lovingly, thoughtless eyes only stare at the dancing floor.

Hey.

Finally, you lift your head to see him. Your eyes widen in panic the moment you see him. He feels your shoulder tenses and before he knows it, you are sobbing in his chest. Letting out a deep sigh again, he loops his arms under to carry you out of the club, back to his residence.

He doesn't know fuck to do. You are still a sobbing mess on his bed despite him trying everything. He can't make out much of your blabbering. He let you stay like that for some time while he cradled your head. Suddenly, a wave of deja vu hit him. He remembered being in the exact same position with you when you got too sensitive about a horror film. That makes Lucifer smile a bit. You have always been like this. Your emotions are well hidden but somehow you are so vulnerable around him.

…

Lucifer is too worked up to sleep. You, on the other hand, are snoring on his chest. Why does his room feel so restricting all of a sudden? What is it that's been on his mind? Why did you decide to cancel the date and go to a club instead? Are you playing some kind of mind games on him? You have been the only one to make a fool out of the King of Hell so far.

He feels something shuffling on his chest. You have woken up but remain oddly silent. He thinks you are pissed. Imagine going to a club to ditch him, get high, only to wake up being in his arms. That's why he's so surprised when you are kissing him so tenderly right now. Kissing you is no new experience, but for the first time, kissing you on the bed doesn't feel sexual. Rather, it's more like a love confession coming from you. He gets so immersed in the kiss that he hasn't realized how hard his hand is gripping your waist.

You are the one to break the kiss. He guesses you want to be the one to finish something you had started.

Do you love me?

Your voice is coated with such a sweetness that makes honey taste bitter.

I love you more than anything.

He said as he engulfs you in a hug.

[kingtomura]

Deja Vu | 2 | The Girl Who Cried Wolf

summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left... so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, childhood memories, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, piv, smut with feelings, mdni wc: 9.2k | Prev | Chapter 3 | m. list | read on ao3

You’ve never been good at hide-and-seek. 

“Touya,” you yell into the crisp air of the forest, “this isn’t funny!” You’ve been at this for what feels like forever and it’s just not working. 

You can’t find him. 

The wind was chilling you to the bone and it was almost dinner time. This was becoming more and more pointless as the minutes ticked by. You just wanted to find him so you both could go eat. 

“Okay, well if you’re not gonna come out then I don’t wanna play anymore!” You shout, fully ready to turn tail and get out of there. 

You hear a groan from the bushes and Touya emerges, his hair now white on one side and red on the other. 

“You’re no fun.” He chides. “What are you gonna do when you have to find a villain?”

“I’ll find them, of course! But not on an empty stomach.” You huff, just glad that he’s stopped messing around and you can both head back now. 

You are both six years old and Touya’s passion for becoming the number one hero burns brighter each passing day. You can only imagine what the coming years will be like.

Touya stood up fully, brushing the residual snow from his pants, forever unbothered by the cold. “Right… whatever you say.” 

In that moment your stomach growls and Touya raises a brow.

Frustration makes itself known again as you stomp your foot in the white snow, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “We were at this for so long! I’m tired. And cold.”

“You’re always cold.” He muses, walking towards you and taking your hand. 

You shrug, ducking your nose into your scarf to avoid being called Rudolph again, as Touya loves to do. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand in yours. “And you’re always warm.”

Touya hums, leading you both back to his home that was nearby. His mother promised to make Udon tonight and it was all you could think about. 

“You know, you haven't said much about your new baby brother.” You start, tilting your head to get a better look at him, he always seemed more tense when going towards the home.

His tense features smooth out at the mention of his new sibling, brows softening and a smile sliding onto his face. “Oh, yeah. Well he doesn’t do much yet. He can’t talk or anything. He’s trying, but he’s kind of a potato.”

The comment makes you laugh, and you watch as fresh, new snowflakes make their way down from the sky, landing in Touya’s hair and your jacket. It’s at this moment you decide that winter is your favorite season. 

The way Touya squeezes your hand brings you back to the present, the warmth making your heart dance. “But, I can't wait until he does talk. I bet he’ll be pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.” You agree, “But you have to make sure you set a good example for him. Or else he’ll be the cool brother, you know.”

Touya scoffs, brows furrowing in irritation that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I know that! I’m always cool…”

You mutter a soft sure as your best friend’s home comes into view. 

Udon was so close, you could almost taste it. 

“Race you there!” Touya shouts, dropping your hand and taking off, effectively leaving you in the dust.

“Hey!” You try to catch up, but the headstart he had over you was too great, and you end up last — much to your dismay. Touya was already inside and kicking his shoes off by the time you made it in. “You cheated!”

The boy only shrugs, removing his coat and putting it away, “If you wanna be a hero you have to always be alert, that’s what dad says anyway.”

You follow suit, kicking off your shoes and jacket, and running to greet his mother. It was perfect timing, you noted, as Rei had only just begun placing piping hot bowls of Udon down at the table for all of you. 

“Hi, Fuyumi!” You greet watching her emerge from further into the home. She returns with a wave, taking her place at the table. 

There was no time to waste as you dig into the soup, enjoying the way it warmed your insides from the cool air outside.

“And where have you two been all day?” Rei questions, tone neutral and patient. It’s at this moment you notice the overheated head of the household was not present for dinner. It's something you cannot say that you mind, given how tense the air is when the man does come around. 

“We were out playing hide and seek.” Touya supplied through a mouthful of noodles.

Rei looks skeptical, resting her chin on her hand as she watched her son. “Just playing hide and seek, Touya? No extra training?” 

The boy stops, watching his mother before taking a sip of his water, “Maybe a little bit of training…”

“Touya.”

“What?” He asks, growing aggravated at the woman's pestering. You could only watch as the interaction went on, trying to enjoy your Udon as best you could. 

“I told you not to push yourself today. It’s already hard enough to get your father to give you an off day, at least enjoy it by not overdoing it.”

“I wasn’t overdoing it! It’s fine, okay?” His frustration is growing and you begin to shift in your seat, unsettled by the conversation. It wasn’t the first time Rei had scolded Touya about quirk training, but it always ended the same — no progress on the topic being made. 

Rei sighs, the stresses of her day to day beginning to catch up with her. “I just don’t want you to overdo it. I want you to enjoy being a child too, Touya. Just have fun sometimes.”

“But I do have fun — all the time!” 

She’s tired, you can tell by the bags lining her eyes and the unkept status of her hair. Your mom looks like this too, on the days her job runs over and she has to come home late. Maybe all moms look this way, you ponder as you down the rest of your soup. 

“Listen, I know you want to get stronger, but you’ve been turning up hurt more often than not. At least hold off until the doctor's appointment.” 

You watch as Touyas brows scrunch and his lips turn down in a frown. You know that look very well. He's upset. “What? That’s dumb! I won’t be the best if I let a few burns stop me.”

“Touya…” Rei looks like Touya, you realize in this moment, a near carbon copy of her son the way her features mirror his own. “It’s just for a little while, okay? Not forever.”

He scoffs, done with the conversation and Rei only looks on. “Whatever.”

That’s the end of the conversation, sending dinner into a deep silence with tension crowding the air. 

By the end of dinner, you are more than ready to head to bed, quick to finish your nightly duties and prepare for bed. 

You try to bite back a yawn as you slide the door to the bedroom open, it is futile and you feel the tears pull at the corners of your eyes — signaling that it was time for bed. 

Touya was already clad in his pajamas and currently rolling out the extra futon for you to sleep on. It was a soft white and blue and you wasted no time getting under the blankets.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet.” Your best friend whined, arms crossed and judging stare watching you make yourself comfortable. 

You sit up, meeting his eyes with a raised brow. “‘M not. Just getting comfy.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He stops, dropping his eyes to his lap, lost in thought. “Do you think she was right?”

“Hm? Who?”

Touya sucks his teeth, eye roll not directed at you, but his frustration. “My mom. When she said that I train too much.”

“Oh,” you didn’t think so. You were sure how much Touya trained with his father, but you knew it was never anything extensive when it was only you two together. There was no way that was considered too much. “No, I don't think you do.”

He smiles, and you feel like you’ve made the right call. “Good! I just want to be strong. I don’t see why she doesn’t get that. She says I'll end up hurting myself. But when I get burned it’s only a little bit.”

“Yeah, when I use my quirk too much my head will start to hurt really bad and my nose bleeds a little, but it goes away after a while.” You bring a hand to your nose, thankful there was no metallic smell lingering from the last time you used your quirk. 

“The burns go away too! I knew you would understand.” He smiles, and then focuses on you, tone serious. “Hey, let's make a promise, then.” 

This piques your interest. “What kind of promise?”

“That we’ll both keep trying to get strong. We can look after each other so we won't push too hard. Promise?” He holds out his fist with his pinky extended. His eyes are vivid within the dark room, the cerulean blue filled with a boyish determination that makes your mind rush and your heart flutter. 

It's so quiet, the hushed whispers between you two make this feel more like a secret than a promise, and maybe in some ways it is. A secret that binds you both to each other, one that is in its own a safety net and a comfort when you need it most. 

You reach back, interlocking his pinky with yours. “I promise.”

He brings it forward, pulling you towards him just a little. Touya kisses the exposed part of your pinky, and you bring his closer to do the same.

The deal was sealed. Promise made.

The sound of footsteps pulled you both from your steely gaze and towards the door. Touya's eyes widened, knowing you both were not supposed to be awake at this hour. You lock eyes and both duck down, covering yourselves with the blankets and feigning sleep.

It was just in time as the door to the room slid open, a wandering Rei glancing around the now still room. She stood there for a moment — muttering about how she could have sworn she heard voices — before turning to leave, door sliding shut and footsteps trailing back to her side of the home. 

Both you and Touya tried as best you could to keep your snickers and laughs down, even going as far as slapping a hand over his mouth and yours to silence the noises. Only once there were no more sounds of footsteps did you release your hold on him, bringing an index finger to your mouth to shush him further. 

“Okay,” Touya whispered into the quiet of the room, his voice carrying despite the honest effort to be silent, “we have to go to bed, for real this time.”

“Yeah.” You nod, trying your best to bite back a smile. You were sure the both of you were the only two people awake in the world right now. No one else but you, him in the pale moonlight — with the stars tagging along, sneaking into the space and lighting up the dim room, eavesdropping on your hushed laughs and promises. 

“Goodnight,” he breathes, no more than a whisper.

“Goodnight, Touya.”

—--------------------

You wake with a start, body sitting straight up in bed as your chest heaved. Your eyes darted left and right but all you could see was the familiar posters along the walls of your bedroom. 

Your bedroom?

“Oh, I see you’re awake.” 

Your head snaps to the voice, honey sweet and always familiar. Your mother stood at your door, leaning against the dark wood of the doorframe and giving you a look that made a pit form in your stomach. You clench the cotton of your bed's comforter, the fabric anchoring you to the room.

“You’ve been out for a while.” She continues when she realizes you won’t speak. And what could you say? That you chased your dead best friend in the forest and overused your quirk to catch him? It sounds ridiculous. 

So, you bring the words to your mouth and try to give her a response. Even if it’s a small, insignificant one. 

“Have I?” The words feel dry and heavy on your tongue, like you haven’t spoken in days. Maybe you haven’t. 

Your mother nods, taking your response as consent to come further into your room. Her steps are soft, as if any loud noise would scare you off or make you shut down. It’s hard to look away from her worried gaze, so you don’t. 

You watch as she makes her way over, sitting down on your bed and the look she gives you makes your chest ache.

The somber aura in her eyes brings you no comfort.

“What were you doing out there?” She skips to the point, not wasting another minute. It’s like the question has been running through her head for a while now. 

Your eyes fall to your fists clutching the bedsheets. 

What could you say?

“I…” You swallow, the worst she could do was not believe you. “I saw something in the forest.”

Your mother shifts on the bed, turning to look at you head on. “What did you see?”

There was no way she wouldn’t think you were crazy, but you had to try. 

“Touya. I swear I saw him.” Your eyes meet hers and you wished they hadn’t. The look of sorrow is now replaced with something much worse. Pity. 

“Sweetie…” 

You inhale, tears blurring your vision and you knew this would happen. “Don’t! It was him — I know it was.” 

“I'm not saying it wasn’t.” She defends, bringing a hand up in surrender. “I’m just worried about you. You know what the doctors told you about your quirk.”

The quirk. You didn’t even think about that. 

Too caught up in the possibility of seeing Touya again. 

Your mother sighs, “You’ve been out for three days. Three. You can’t blame me for being worried about you — or upset.”

And you don’t. 

Three days is a long time. You reach a hand up, taking note of the bandages wrapped around your head. You’re not even sure how you ended up back in your room. 

“Just… Remember what the doctors said.” And you do remember! But it was an emergency. One that you couldn’t risk letting pass you by. She speaks again, her voice stern. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You sit there in silence, taking her words in. The heavy tears on your lower lids fall, dampening the blanket in droplets. 

“It’s around that time of year again, I know. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. As a mother I wish I could protect you from this kind of hurt.” She stops, voice wavering as her own eyes grew glossy. “But it’s also why I can’t risk losing you either.”

You want to say something, anything to make her stop. It’s not the same. 

“I don’t doubt that you saw something, but I want you to understand that it was late at night, and you’re still grieving.” 

Your jaw is starting to ache from how hard you’re clenching your teeth — fury below the surface of your frustration. 

Of course she doesn’t believe you. 

Why would you be foolish enough to think she would? 

She sighs, the lecture coming to an end. “Don’t destroy yourself for this, okay?” Your mother reaches out and covers your exposed hand with her own. It takes everything in you not to snatch it away. 

“Promise me, please.”

You meet her eyes, the sorrow swimming in them makes you feel like you’re drowning, so you do the only thing you can think of — you nod, and agree. 

“I promise.” 

And you do. It won’t destroy you to find out the truth. You’ll be okay and intact. No promises will be broken, not again. 

You go out to the forest that night. Even though your head is still wrapped in bandages and you get dizzy if you turn your head a little too fast — you still go. You have to.

It’s eating you up and you have to be sure you weren't hallucinating. 

Your mother has been keeping a close eye on you. She’s so worried, not only about your physical health but your mental health as well. And you don’t blame her. To have her only daughter fall out in the forest and wake up claiming to see her dead best friend? It’s worrisome, but you know better.

You wave the flashlight in your hand, backtracking your steps in the forest. 

It's fruitless, due to the fresh fallen snow and lack of footprints. But that doesn’t deter you. You know he was here, he had to be.

After what felt like an hour of a search, you decide to turn back, knowing there would be no point as the snowfall increased. It would eventually make things harder to see and you would rather not get stuck in a snowstorm. 

Fuyumi won’t say it out loud but she is worried about you. 

She’s worried you have finally gone off the deep end and you are too far gone to be brought back to shore. 

“Fuyumi, I know what I saw. It was him — I swear!” You pleaded, knowing how you must sound.

She knows how much you love Touya, and how devastated you were, but what she doesn’t understand is what you mean when you say you saw him. 

Her eyes were filled with sadness and …pity. The same pity that’s been haunting you for days now. “I believe you saw something. I don’t want to shut you down, it’s just… I know how your quirk is. I know what happens if you overuse it. It could have been in your mind right before you went out.” 

You scoff in shock, eyes wide and disbelieving of what you’re hearing. Of all people you thought Fuyumi would understand, or at least hear you out. 

She doesn't understand. She wouldn’t understand. 

You shake your head, eyes downcast as you fight the familiar burn of tears in your eyes, muttering under your breath, “I know what I saw.” 

Those were his eyes. It was his nose and his hair. It was Touya. 

This doesn’t stop her from trying to comfort you, bringing that familiar hand to your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. What would usually feel like a comfort is now a vice, suffocating you as you drown is the reality around you.

No one will believe a word you say.

“Maybe,” she starts, words careful and gentle, knowing you were as fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any sudden movement. “Maybe Touya is watching over you in some way. Like a guardian angel.”

The warm tears fall now, unable to be held back by your crumbling will. 

“I know how hard it is, really, I do. But I want you to know that you’re not alone, okay?” You can feel Fuyumi’s gaze on you, silently pleading for you to look up, look at her, but you won't. You can’t. You know what you saw and it doesn’t matter if anyone believes you. 

You would never stop looking for Touya. 

Fuyumi lets you go and it feels like you can breathe again. She has become such a good friend over the years, second best to Touya, but it’s not the same. 

You go to stand, having had enough of crying for one week and she stops you. 

“Wait, I don’t want you to go! At least stay for dinner with us. Does your mom work late tonight?”

You nod, she usually does on Fridays. 

“Then it’s settled. Stay over, let's watch movies or something.” She falters, eyes to the floor as she bites her bottom lip, “I don’t want to be alone, either.”

Something in your heart tugs and you agree, moving to join her once more in the living room. 

Fuyumi may not understand, but she was still your close friend. “Okay, but I get to choose the movie, though.”

And she smiles.

For now, you would be okay. 

—----------------------

“It’s so stupid!” 

There’s a flash of fire and a tree goes up in flames. Touya is upset. 

“It’s just not fair.”

“I know…” You drag, hating when he got this way. “But it’s what they told me.” 

“That means we can’t be heroes together anymore!”

The wave of sadness you feel makes your head hurt and eyes water. “I know… I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, they told me I had to stop training, too. Dad said he wouldn’t do it anymore because I hurt myself. You know what I say to that? Who cares! We can be strong if we want to. It's not fair.”

You know it’s not fair.

You are seven years old when the doctors tell you that you cannot continue to use your quirk. 

Telekinesis is not only rare, but it is dangerous. Not just to you, but to others around you. The doctors were very clear about what would happen if you lost control or if you overexerted yourself. 

The consequences could be devastating. 

But quirks are such an important part of one’s life and for them to tell you to just not use them? It’s unheard of. 

It also doesn’t help that Touya has another sibling on the way. One that his father is eerily excited about. 

“Do you remember our promise?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You nod, knowing the promise is something you could never forget. 

“Well, I think it's more important than ever now. If they dont want us to do it, then we just shouldn’t tell them.” There is a determined purpose in his voice as he turns to face you, committed eyes meeting yours.

“I don’t know, Touya. That sounds like lying.”

“It’s not if you don’t say anything.” He insists, tone even. 

Your gaze falls to the ground, watching as the wind blows the leaves along the snow. It’s like their own secret dance. Your promise is beginning to feel more like a secret dance as well.

“Look,” Touya starts, walking towards you and capturing your attention once more, “I swear, if anything happens, I’ll just say I did it.” 

You shake your head, brows furrowed in confusion and fists clenched, “No! Then you would get in trouble, and what if we can’t hang out anymore? We can be in this together, Touya.” 

He smiles, soft and sweet. Your dedication relaxes him more than he thought it would. 

His warm hands are on your face again, warming your cheeks and the butterflies that have been living in your stomach go wild again. You absently wonder if you should tell your mother about it. 

“Your nose is all red again, Rudolph.” He says before bringing you closer and brushing his nose against yours.

You were sure if your face got any warmer you would probably explode. 

Touya carries on, walking away from you and further into the forest. You trail behind, even though you knew this part of it well, you still didn’t want to run the risk of getting lost. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice carries in this part of the woods, and it sounds more like a shout. 

“I found this cool spot the other day! Let me show you.”

Confident as always, Touya trails through and you speed up to chase him. 

Now you're sure your face is red, but he doesn't mention it again. 

“It’s down here.” Touya points and there’s a drop to get to the area. 

It only takes a jump and he lands on his feet — he makes it look so easy, but you know he’s probably gotten a lot of practice and put himself in positions more dangerous than this. 

There’s that doubt in the forefront of your mind again, the fear that makes you hesitate. “I don’t like heights, Touya.” 

“It’s okay! C’mon, I’ll catch you. It’s just a little further.” He’s reassuring as he holds out his arms. 

Always fearless Touya. 

You trust him, and it’s all you can think as you close your eyes and give yourself a little running start and then jump. 

There’s a ringing in your ears again and you don’t feel his arms right away, instead you feel light. As light as a feather as you drift down to the ground. 

The lack of impact makes the fear ebb away as you open your eyes. There’s Touya, arms out and waiting as he watches you with widened eyes filled with wonder. 

You’ve somehow activated your quirk and slowed your own fall. You absently think that it almost feels kind of fun, the way you softly land in Touya’s waiting arms. 

“Whoa,” he starts, eyes never leaving yours. “You looked like an angel or something.”

You don’t know why, but the comparison makes your cheeks flush as you fight for a way to respond. 

Nothing comes to mind and you only bite down a smile. You’ve never tried something like that before with your quirk and the excitement makes your fear fade away. 

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Me either,” you shrug. It’s new to you too, and you weren’t against trying it again. 

“Well, c'mon, let’s go before it gets dark.” And he’s taking off, pulling you along with him by the hand. The wind is chilly but it doesn’t completely cool you. Touya keeps you warm, from the outside by his hand and from the inside with his words. Maybe there was more to his fire quirk than you thought. 

“Don’t run so fast, Touya!”

He laughs, but slows down for you, looking back and flashing a smile, “Whatever you say, angel.” 

��-------------

It’s the end of March and spring is on the way. 

The snow melting, the rain clouds are rolling their way in, readying to greet April and bring life to the incoming May flowers, and your mother—

“We need them by tonight!” She yells through the phone and it’s enough to make you hold the device far away from your ear. 

“I heard you the first time, mom.” You sigh, looking around again for the small shop and making your way towards it. “I’ll have all the stuff by then. The party will be fine, I promise.” 

Tonight is your father’s big homecoming day from overseas. He’s been working away from home for eight months now and your mother has decided to throw him a welcome home party at the last minute. He will be here by tonight and so will the guests — if you finish in time everything will go according to plan. 

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Her voice presses and you hum in response. You know how she wants things to be, but your father isn’t picky. He’s the most easy going man you know and if there’s a hiccup here and there, well, you’re sure he won't mind. 

“Okay, mom.” You start, grabbing your items and making your way to the checkout line. “I’m about to check out now, so I’ll let you know when I'm on the way home.”

She sighs on the other end, but lets you go, not before fully explaining why she needs the banners and streamers in a certain color and you cut her off, hanging up and checking out. 

It's been a few months since the incident in the forest and you’ve given up trying to make anyone see your point of view. They all thought you were hallucinating, but you knew better. You saw Touya. There was nothing they could say or do to make you think otherwise. 

You heave a sigh and continue your walk through the town thinking of the countless decorations you will undoubtedly have to help your mother hang for the night. It gives you something to do, but god, last minute events were not your favorite. 

There aren’t as many people out and about this time of day and you're thankful. It’s almost peaceful, the way you can weave through the sparse crowd and get lost in your own thoughts. 

Until you see it.

It makes you stop in your tracks, heart beating so loud in your chest you could feel it pulsing in your ears. 

White hair and blue eyes.

You take a few hurried steps to the alley you know you saw the figure go into. 

He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled up, but you knew the moment he turned and his eyes met yours. Touya. 

Without a second thought you dropped the bags you were holding and ran after him. He was halfway through the window of an abandoned building when you made down the alley, but was swift as he jumped through it. There was no doubt Touya was fast, but you wouldn’t let him get away. Not this time. 

You follow him, jumping through the same window and chasing as he maneuvers through the dusty dilapidated building. It’s hard to catch your breath and you are sure you’re running on pure adrenaline now, but none of that matters. 

All that matters now is that you aren’t crazy. It was broad daylight when you locked eyes. You know Touya is alive.

“Touya, wait!” You barely register the tears running down your face as you run, but you dont care to wipe them away. Why would he run from you? Why would he hide from you? There are so many questions that you need answered. “Stop!” 

He takes a left turn and you follow, before seeing him dip right and it’s getting harder and harder to keep up. After the last incident you refuse to use your quirk. Not unless you wanted to ruin your chances and pass out again. 

At one point you lose him completely, but there is no outlet in the dusty room you’ve cornered him in. He has to be hiding somewhere. 

“Touya, please! If that’s you,” you yell out, voice hoarse from emotion, “please, come back. Talk to me.” You’re looking around the dark room, walking further in and searching for something, anything that shows his presence. 

You make the mistake of having your back to the door, the only exit in the room and Touya darts out, passing you and making it back into the main part of the building. 

You curse before hurrying behind him, but it was too late. All you could see was him hopping the window and landing on his feet below. It was too high for you to follow so you only grip the window pane, tears of frustration running down your cheeks as you watched him run.

“What about our promise?” You yell, wondering if your words could reach him.

There’s a sick feeling forming in your gut and you try to pull yourself together — wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt and the sobs shook your body. You had a party to prepare for and you couldn’t keep playing this game of back and forth.

Your mother gives you an earful when you arrive home much later than you were supposed to, but she was so focused on getting your father’s welcome home party together that she let you off the hook easily.

As long as you helped her hang the decorations. 

There is a tense air around the both of you and you know your mother is hesitating asking. You aren't sure if it’s to save you the trouble of a pointless conversation or if she is just tired of hearing about it. 

You decide not to tell her of your latest meeting. Brushing off any odd stares and worried glances with excuses of being tired. It was not wise to tell anyone what you saw. They would only think of you as the girl who cried wolf.

When your father made it home you knew he could tell something was off with you by just one look alone. 

He participated in the socializing and games until the crowd died down and people began to leave. You had called it a night long ago and made your way to your room, headphones on and catching up on homework. 

There was a knock loud enough to hear through the headphones, making you remove one and causing you to turn and see your father standing at the door. 

“Yes?” You ask, unsure what he could want at this hour.

He gives you a small smile, one as gentle and kind as you've always known him to be, and asks to come in — taking a seat on your bed while you close the book at your desk.

“I wanted to talk.” He started, watching as you removed the headphones from your head completely and gave him your undivided attention, sure that this would be about what’s been going on lately. 

“Have you started looking for colleges?”

The question surprises you, and you shake your head. You should start looking soon, since you turn seventeen soon and only have one year left, but it hasn’t been your main priority. “No, I haven’t.”

He only smiles, eyes crinkling shut as he waves off your worried expression, “It’s fine! I actually had an alternative for you. It’s something I've been looking into during the business trip.”

Your interest is officially piqued as you urge him to continue. 

“Well, I’m sure you know this, but you have a pretty rare quirk.” He starts, tone leveled, “I’ve been working on research studies and there’s somewhere I found that would love to have you intern and learn more about it.”

You tilt your head. “You want me to be a guinea pig?”

“No!” Your father laughs, already knowing how it would sound. “No, not that at all. I want to understand your quirk better, and for you to understand it better. I think it would be good for you. A chance to grow.”

To grow. You narrow your eyes at the words, starting to understand what he was getting at. “So you’ve heard.”

“I did. And before you get upset — I believe you. I will always believe you, and that's why I want you to do this." His words make your eyes widen and he continues. “It’s in a small town a little further away, but the internship comes with your own apartment and a stipend for food. Your mother and I will still support you, of course...”

You hold a hand up to stop him, “wait, how far away is the town?”

Your father rubs the back of his neck, an anxious habit he’s had as long as you could remember. “About four hours from here.”

“Four hours?” Your voice is louder than you meant for it to be but you can't help it, standing to your feet in disbelief. 

“It’s such a good opportunity for you, honey. This town… has too many memories. It’ll help you grow. At least tell me you’ll consider it?”

It feels like hours before you speak again, the stunned feeling hijacking your body. But you do respond, you owe him that much. 

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” You give, taking your seat at your desk again. It feels like your mind is swimming, but you had to at least mull it over. 

“Thank you,” your father stands and hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before exiting your room. “I promise it won't be so bad. Goodnight, honey, I love you.”

You only nod in response. Maybe getting away would be good for you. 

The first day you find a gift it is raining outside.

You stumble up to your front doorstep, closing your umbrella and shaking off the excess water.  

“What the…” You reach down to pick up the little box, and turn it over to examine it. Maybe your mother got something delivered. 

The thought follows you into the home as you pull off your raincoat and rainboots, making your way to the kitchen where your mother had started on dinner.

“Oh, welcome home.” She greets, stirring the pot of soup and eyeing the box in your hand. “What do you have there?”

Your brows furrow as you take a seat at the table. “I thought you would know. It’s not for you?”

“Nope.” 

The response only makes your brows furrow more as you search for maybe a name or any indication that it was delivered to the wrong place. 

“You should open it.” Your mother pipes up and you shrug, ripping the paper and opening the box. 

You drop the box the moment you see the item. 

There was no way.

“What? What's the matter?” Your mother questions, her eyes filled with worry as she reaches for the box.

You snatch it away from her and dart off to your room, supplying her with an excuse about how you don’t feel well before locking yourself in your bedroom. 

The box held a golden locket inside of it. It was in the shape of a heart and you were terrified to open it and see what lay inside of it. You decide that the suspense would be too much and open it anyway — the photo makes your breath hitch.

It was you and Touya. 

You, with your bright eyes and happy smile and Touya, half white and half red hair looking at you as you hug him, cheeks pressed together. 

There was no denying it now. Touya was alive and he was hiding from you. 

Maybe he’s watching over you — like a guardian angel. Fuyumi’s voice rang in your head as you fought the tears blurring your vision. 

Why would he send you this and not talk to you?

All of it made your head spin as you thought of the countless reasons and possibilities. You didn't bother to wipe the tears from your eyes as they rolled down your cheeks. Only opting to lay down in your bed, holding the locket close to your chest as you stared at the ceiling above. 

It made no sense. Touya could trust you, so why would he hide from you?

Unless he didn’t want to be found.

The next gifts come in different forms and sizes, ranging from your favorite snack to cute cards. 

Always something small but never with a note or handwriting. It was almost like he truly didn’t want to be found. 

And maybe he didn’t. 

It’s scary at first, receiving random gifts and items from someone who might as well be a ghost, but as the months went on you grew used to it and even began to expect it at some point. 

Now you knew you could rest easy knowing that Touya was alive and maybe, just maybe he was waiting on the right moment to come out. You would trust him.

It also doesn’t take long for you to come to a decision with your fathers offer. 

It’s an amazing opportunity and you should take advantage of that while you can. You tell him as much and you could feel his excitement through the phone call. He was away on business again, but he would handle most of the heavy lifting, all you had to do was apply and wait on your offer once you graduate. 

There was just one thing you had to do before you left. 

—--------------------

You are eighteen years old when you leave Musutafu.

By this time you couldn’t take it anymore. Either Touya had gotten better at hiding or he knew you would be leaving soon, but there was nothing else from him — and there hadn’t been for months. At this point it felt like glimpses of the past haunting you. Every part of the city reminded you of him and of your childhood together. 

Fuyumi was upset to see you go, but she understood. 

You still believed, deep down, she thought you were losing your mind. 

You needed this though – needed a getaway. The ghost of Touya was holding you down, holding you back. 

Even though the gifts stopped coming months ago. 

She is kind as she hugs you and waves you off, knowing that one main reason for your company in her home was to visit Touya’s shrine. She does not stop you, does not ask questions — not after the time she mentioned how you didn’t bring him up as often. 

There was no need to. You only told her that you’ve moved past that and you knew Touya was watching over you, a small smile on your face as you touched the locket dangling from your neck. Fuyumi didn’t bring the topic up again.

Today is the day you leave. You had waited and waited for any sign of Touya again, but there was nothing. So you took matters into your own hands, making a little bag of gifts and a card that held the new updates to your life and address.

It was a long shot, but it was a chance you had to take.

Once you finished, it didn't take long to make your way back home, gathering your things as your parents insisted on driving you to the train stop. With your mother buzzing around you like a bee, making sure everything was perfect before you went off on your own. 

The idea of new beginnings had begun to feel a little more welcomed.

Your new apartment is small. 

It is small and cozy and just enough for you. It’s a comfortable one bedroom place and you can only imagine all the ways you will decorate the space. 

The town is also cozy and quaint – one that is reminiscent of old fairy tales, but a lot less magical. You can't help but sigh at the mundane routine you’ve fallen into since you’ve arrived. A nice walk from your apartment to the research lab, and from the research lab to your home. Since it’s summer there aren't many researchers on campus, so you have more than enough time to explore the parks and stores. 

One week turns into two and then two weeks turn into a month. You’ve gotten used to the small town and the people that live there. It's become relaxing and the new routine has eased your nerves. Maybe your father was right about needing a change.

But no matter what you do, you cannot stop thinking about Touya. 

The thought of leaving him is heavy, but when you touch your locket, you know it is for the best.

Everything changes on a Thursday night. 

It’s a normal night, one where there is no need to go to the lab, so you hang around in the apartment — setting up cozy lights and posters from home. It’s beginning to come together more and more everyday, and you decided to end it all with a simple and easy meal. One that you could mindlessly eat while watching a movie. 

It's a foolproof plan, really. 

You’re stirring the pot of noodles, humming a tune when you hear the knocks at your door. It is dark outside, and you haven’t made enough friends to warrant visitors, so the idea of a guest at this hour sends alarms ringing in your mind.

You grip the wooden spoon tight as you take cautious steps to your door, knowing that if it came down to it you would be more than ready to whack whoever trespassed. 

“Who is it?” You call out, loud enough for the intruder to hear, but get no response. 

At this point you are sure it was just your imagination and you turn, ready to get back to your noodles, when the knocks sound throughout the apartment again.

Frustrating is the only thought on your mind as you stomp towards your front door, ready to give whoever was on the other side of it a piece of your mind for interrupting your peaceful night with this bullshit—

The door swings open and your words die on your tongue.

Cerulean blue looks down at you and you were right — he has gotten taller.

“Hey, angel.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You wouldn’t believe your eyes because if you did you would see Touya, your childhood best friend Touya on your doorstep. Real and in the flesh, hair white as snow and eyes worn with fatigue. 

“Can I come in?” He asks and you are shellshocked, only stepping to the side as your eyes follow his every move. 

This was a moment you thought of for years after your first encounter in the forest, and for him to be here, with you. It didn’t feel real.

“Touya,” you gasp, voice low as if being any louder would wake you from this dream you must be having.

“I know.” His eyes are downcast with a sorrow you’ve never seen in him before, “I.. have a lot I want to tell you.”

It’s at that moment that the timer for your ramen goes off, startling you both and sending you rushing to the kitchen. You offer him a seat and insist that you’ve made enough for the both of you. 

There was so much you needed to discuss, so much to catch up on.  You didn’t know where to start. 

The little table you use to eat on is small, but perfect for the two of you, you realize as you set both bowls down and hand him a set of metal chopsticks. 

Your heart was in overdrive as you ran through thousands of things to ask, millions of unspoken words to say. You’ve imagined this moment in your head for years. Time and time again you’ve thought of what you would say to him, what you would do if you ever saw him again. 

Now the opportunity has presented itself and all you can manage is a wide eyed look as you both quietly eat your ramen. 

Surreal. 

This moment feels surreal and you’re sure that if you make any sudden movements or ask any loud questions, that it would be gone. Touya would be gone, disappearing in an instant and leaving you alone in your apartment. 

He speaks first, saving you the trouble of searching for words. “The food was good.” 

His voice sounds scratchy, like it hasn’t been used in years and you can't help but wonder why. 

“Thank you.” It’s all you can manage to get out, stunned to your core and desperately searching for words. 

You go to stand, taking the empty bowls with you to the kitchen and Touya follows suit, trailing behind in the small space of the apartment and you are hyper aware of his presence. 

You can feel the warmth of his body even when he is steps away from you. It radiates and blankets you in feelings you haven’t felt in years. 

As you place the bowls in the sink you can’t help but wonder where should you go from here. It’s a thought that plagues you as you grip the edge of the sink, fists tight and head hung low while you brace yourself to turn around, to face the reality of the truth standing right behind you—

You do it. You turn and it’s not a dream. It’s not your imagination, you conclude as you look into Touya's eyes, blue and familiar. Eyes you would know anywhere. 

His hair is snow white, the last color you saw it as before he—

“You kept it.” His eyes drop to the golden locket around your neck, a small smile pulling at his features. 

“Of course I did.” You’re firm, bringing two fingers up to brush against it, the cool feeling bringing you comfort over the last few years. 

His gaze seems far away as he zeros in on your locket, “I was worried you wouldn’t, after the last time we—“

“Don’t.” You cut him off, words sharp. “Don’t talk about it. Not tonight.”

You don’t know what you’re doing or where your mind is going as you take a step forward. He’s so different, yet so familiar and you can’t help but reach your hand up to brush over the newly faded scars along his cheek. 

Touya leans into the touch, closing his eyes and allowing you to feel. 

When he opens them again you get that feeling in your chest that always pulls at you and for the first time, you can finally place a word to the feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” you stammer, vision blurring with tears as you fight for your words, “I’m sorry I didn’t—“

Touya stops you, crashing his lips into yours and effectively silencing your racing thoughts. It’s warm and he’s so close, you wish you could pull him closer but you settle for this, allowing the tears to freely roll down your cheeks. 

When he pulls away there is only the smallest distance between you two. Noses so close they are almost touching. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” his eyes are so focused on yours, it feels like he’s put you in a trance. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, anyway.”

Before you could even shake your head, tell him no it’s the other way around, he’s pulling you back into a kiss, one so soft and so gentle you feel as though his lips were made for yours. 

It presses on, your hands finding his hair, soft and fluffy as you’ve always known it, while his hands hold your waist, pulling you in and keeping you close. 

This is not your first kiss, and it’s not Touya's either. You both decided at around eleven years old that you would try to emulate your parents and see what the fuss was about. Surely enough, you didn’t think you did it right because there was nothing. No sparks, no fireworks — just lips pressed together. 

You were both too young at the time, you now realize as you wrap your arms around Touya's neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. Way too young to realize that love is not fairytales and fireworks. 

Love is slow, it is steady and it is this — right here, right now, kissing your best friend in your tiny apartment kitchen. 

It’s perfect, you think as you both make your way to the bedroom, Touya trailing behind you for once as you lead him through the space. Hushed laughs and soft smiles dance together as you fall onto the bed. 

He is above you, and you wonder how you could have ever lived without his presence. The thought makes you sick. 

“I love you.” And it’s not your lips that moved, not your voice. It’s Touya, as he looks down at you, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Touya…” Your heart swells and it’s then you feel it. The droplets of tears, falling from his eyes and onto your cheeks. They were as warm as he had always been and you waste no time pulling him down into another kiss — pulling away only enough to press your foreheads together. “I’ve always loved you.”

And you have. Even in death you loved him, nothing could take that love away from you. 

The next kiss is hungry, teeth and tongues clashing in a rush as you both fought to remove your clothes. You have regretted all the things that went unsaid, the actions that went undone and you were both not going to waste any of this new time you had been given. 

You feel one of Touya's fingers prod your entrance and the hesitation reminds you that you’re both inexperienced. New to the world of sex, but forever patient. You could guide each other, you decide as you gasp when he slowly slips a finger inside, slick coating the digit and making the press easier. 

Touya watches you with heavy lidded eyes as he pumps the digit, causing you to whine at the pressure. He pulls out soon after, searching for your sensitive bundle of nerves and giving a sly smirk when you moan at the touch. He’s found it and wastes no time rubbing circles, slow at first to get a feel of what makes you tick, but gaining more confidence as he goes on. 

There was a pressure beginning to build in your lower abdomen and it made you pull him close, thighs tensing as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Close?” His voice is a whisper beside your ear.

You only nod, unable to give him a verbal answer as your pleasure builds. 

You can feel his smile as he turns his head, cheeks brushing against yours. “Let go for me, I’ve got you.” 

And you do. 

You let go of the tension and allow your body to fall into the pleasure of your climax— gasping as it washed over you in waves, sending shocks of pleasure radiating through your body. 

“Fuck,” Touya moans above you as he works you through it, only moving to line up with your entrance once you’ve come down from your high. 

The press of it makes your breath hitch, but when you look up into Touya’s eyes you feel safe. 

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?” And you nod, trusting him to be soft and slow. 

He’s nervous, too, and you can tell by the way his brows furrowed in focus. He doesn’t want to mess up your first time, but nothing could ruin this moment. Not even the twinge of pain you feel as the head of Touya’s cock pushes past your entrance, the tight muscles constricting against the intrusion. 

You reach out, hands finding balance against his back as he pressed on, muttering words of comfort to you and ebbing away the pain. 

It doesn’t take long before the pain has been washed away and replaced with the blossoming buzz of pleasure, Touya's hips having a steady pace as he begins to gain more momentum. 

The pleasure is quickly building again and you tell him as much, crying out when he snaps his hips at a particular angle and sends a flash of bliss up your spine. 

“Fuck, Touya, there! Right there,” you cry and he catches on instantly. He’s always been a fast learner. 

The angle he has is perfect as he brushes against the soft spot inside you over and over again, making your thighs shake and toes curl in pleasure as you meet your end once again. The feeling settles deep in your bones as the warmth of it spreads throughout your body like a warm blanket. 

Touya isn’t far behind, if his erratic pace was anything to go by. You could only watch in awe as he chased his high, with his brows furrowed and eyes tightly shut. You fall more in love as you feel his hips stutter and then stall, his white hot seed filling you from the inside and making you shudder. 

It was a new feeling that you believed you could get addicted to if you weren’t careful. 

But none of that mattered right now, because Touya was leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips and you knew that right here, right now was the most important.

Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow.

[yourlittlebunnyy]

kind hearted -tamlin x reader

masterlist - honeyed flower

this can be read alone, but i suggest reading honeyed flower before!

summary: Tamlin proves that his heart is pure.

warnings: super cute and fluffy

wc: 2.8k

Tamlin is the High Lord of the Spring Court, a place where fairies reside, yet in five hundred years he has never seen any, until... a few days ago.

He can't get you and your wings, your face and your joyful, selfless personality out of his head. You even gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him feel like a little kid struggling with his first crush, and damn, it sure wasn't like that.

A rush of awe curls the wrinkles in his forehead into a grimace. You're making him weak, and he barely knew you.

He tosses and turns in bed, unable to sleep, and it's your fault. He sits at the end of the bed, elbows resting on his legs and hands holding his face. With a sigh, he gets up and gets dressed.

The night is silent, and the only light available to him is the moon, which makes his horse's coat glow a shimmering white. It reminds him of your wings.

He retraces his steps, surrounded by silence and little else. To enter the village he must get the approval of the Village Chiefs, who note whether he has a pure heart. He thinks hard about what to do.

Tamlin is not sure he owns it, after all the things he has done, the people he has hurt. But you told him his heart is pure, that the trees themselves told you so.

Yeah, he thinks puffing out a laugh to himself, you talk to the trees. It's so surreal that he wonders if he didn't dream it, but he chases the thought away when he sees the small valley and flowers as big as trees in the distance. He keeps riding for a while, and when the trees thin out completely, he decides to dismount and proceed on foot.

Your village is just as beautiful and fragrant as he remembered, and his gaze points directly to your flower, the scent of thick honey in the air seems to call to him even though he cannot see it in this darkness. Fortunately, a few fireflies illuminate the area.

He notices the first two flowers, the tallest ones, those of your Village Chief. He remembers what you told him the first time you saw each other; he remembers everything all too well. He sees the figures of two elderly fairies resting and wonders if he hasn't made a mistake. Everyone is clearly asleep and he doesn't want to disturb them, fearing mainly that he will arouse annoyance and not be admitted.

Just as he turns to retrace his steps, an elderly male voice, inspiring sagacity and wisdom, speaks. He almost gets a deja-vu of how you met.

"Who are you, boy?" He says, and sleep leaves clear marks on the fairy's face. Tamlin watches him and does not speak. He, too, possesses wings, but not as beautiful as yours. His seem graying and bear clear signs of his age. His face, though old, is still beautiful. However, he does not seem to appreciate his silence.

"Are you a visitor?" He asks testily, flapping his large wings only a couple of times to cushion the descent from his flower. He keeps his tone low so as not to wake the rest of the village, but another fairy, the other Village Chief, seems to wake up anyway.

"I am Tamlin. The High Lord of this Court." He says confidently, the authoritative High Lord tone. He just hopes it's the right thing to do. Maybe they'll let him in anyway, given his notoriety, without looking at his heart.

"Well, we are the Village Chiefs. I'm Dina, and this is Finn. What are you doing here, boy?" Tamlin is surprised by their words. It's as if they just don't recognize his figure, he wants to retort that he could kill them all, but in the end what would change for him? They did nothing but talk to him as if he were their equal. Maybe he doesn't mind so much, freeing himself from social constructs.

"I just happened to be here by accident, I was riding with my horse." He shifts and with his chin points to the animal tied to a tree not too far away. The two fairies watch it open-mouthed, as if they had never seen such a thing. Similar to your reaction the first time you saw it, he thinks, have you never seen horses in your life?

They recover a few moments later, their gaze back on him. They seem to have noticed his little lie, or maybe the trees have told them, but they say nothing.

"If you want to enter our village, we will have to establish that your heart is pure." Finn says with a hand on his chin. "I'll go and get things ready.

Entertain the visitor, dear." Dina nods. And with that, the fairy leaves his sight as he enters the dark forest, a handful of fireflies following him. Perhaps he is able to speak to them as well.

He feels the female's gaze on him, and he keeps his face high and proud, despite the agitation eating him inside. What if he is not as pure as you told him? What if he can never see you again?

"And so, you are here tonight because you found our village by chance?" The fairy's voice is accusatory, her wings seem to open even wider, proud.

Tamlin nods as he looks into her eyes. Fae often felt intimidated by such a thing, but she didn't seem to pay too much attention to it.

And anyway, his wasn't completely a lie. He had indeed found you and your village by accident. Just not tonight. Dina raises an eyebrow. Tamlin wonders if crossing his hands to his chest would be appropriate, but the fairy goes away before he can do so.

Tamlin does not know what to do now that he is alone. He keeps looking in the direction of your flower as if among the darkness you might pop out at any moment.

A figure does indeed make space, but its silhouette does not match yours. Is it Dina, who has returned with a... big leaf?

"Here." She hands him what he recognizes to be a palm leaf. What on earth are palm trees doing in the Spring Court? He grabs it and twirls it between his fingers, his eyebrows furrowed. Dina seems to notice his confusion.

"It will be used to cover you during the ritual." Tamlin squints. You didn't tell him that he must be naked, and you especially didn't tell him that his only garment, if you can call it that, would be a leaf from a palm tree.

"Don't make that face, boy. You'll be alone, maybe." At this point he is even more confused and only wishes someone would explain to him how this blessed ritual takes place. Finn returns a few moments later, more tired than before. Dina greets him by supporting him with her arms, bringing him close to his flower and making sure he goes up without a problem. She whispers something in his ear and places a kiss on his forehead before returning to him.

"Finn is tired. I will lead you." Without waiting for an answer she slips through the trees, and the fairy's fireflies now wander around Dina. Tamlin follows her without a word.

They walk for a few minutes until they come to a small expanse in the trees. How did he not notice it before?

He looks around and admires the landscape. His eyes become hungry for that atmosphere. It is a dream. He never realized that his court could contain so much beauty. He wonders if at this moment he is being blessed by Mother herself.

The trees have the gaps between the bark glowing, making them look ethereal. The small empty space in the center is covered with a carpet of flowers that seems to glow in the same way as the trunks and roots. And kneeling in it is you. Dressed only in a light, short white robe, there is you.

Dina called you as she was going to get the leaf. You would have liked to sleep, but she shook your flower making you annoyed.

"Don't touch my flower!" You say coming down as if the petals were a slide, you love doing that. Dina rolls her eyes, visibly sleepy like you. Fairies need more sleep than other species, or they tend to get either nervous or stupid. It is also why they are so secretive - they are not particularly productive in society.

"A visitor is waiting for you in the Pool of Purity for the ritual." She simply tells you, then disappears toward her flower. You sigh, but are happy nonetheless. It is strange to have two visitors arrive in such a short time, Tamlin and now this stranger. Or maybe - your wings have a spasm - you lengthen your steps to the small secret clearing and find no one. Maybe Dina has gone to get whoever is here.

You kneel on the fresh dewy grass and set to work: the sooner you complete the ritual, the sooner you can return to the softness of your flower. You place your flattened palms on the cool earth and begin to hum a prayer for the Mother. The trees begin to glow with magic that fades from pink to purple to blue, and expands to the center of the clearing, covering it with small, colorful flowers that are also overflowing with energy.

You are focused on your little prayer that you don't even turn to look when you hear Dina speaking to the visitor.

"I leave you in the hands of our sweetest Y/n. She will guide you through the ritual, otherwise she will escort you back to the border." And with these last words, she leaves.

Only now do you raise your head, your hands still in the blades of grass that have now turned blue. Your breath catches in your throat and your body stiffens at the sight of Tamlin. So he kept his word and came back! He offers you a big smile, and careless of having left the prayer in half, you jump up and run to hug him. This time he is prepared and promptly reciprocates the affection-filled squeeze, his hands on your hips as he inhales your honey-sweet scent. Your wings quiver as you hold him even tighter. You are sad as you part, and a small pout wrinkles your nose. Tamlin chuckles as he turns the leaf over in his fingertips.

"So you will be my guide, Y/n." You offer him a joyful smile as you hop back to kneel where you were before, resting your hands on your thighs you watch him. He is so beautiful with all the colors reflected on his face, so magical.

"I'm very excited, TamTam! I think all you have to do is undress and lie down on the bed of flowers.

The trees will give their final verdict when they are ready." Tamlin looks at you. You can tell by his glance that he is slightly embarrassed.

"Okay, I'll go behind that tree while you change. You make yourself comfortable!" With a graceful movement you stand up and give him his space, and as he changes he feels his heartbeat calm down. If the trees determine his purity, and not the Village Chiefs, then he has nothing to worry about.

You come back out of your hiding place after a couple of minutes and find Tamlin lying down, his arms behind his head revealing his sculpted chest. He looks like a statue from how perfect he is. Your gaze wanders over his body with curiosity, a slight blush covers your cheeks, and Tamlin chuckles when he sees your pupils dilate, he feels your eyes on him as if they're branding him.

"Now... now I'll proceed." You're slightly awkward, and Tamlin can't help but wonder if this is the first time you've done this. Or that you've seen a naked man.

You kneel in the same spot and place your palms on the ground, just as you were before he came. Tamlin is about to speak, but you block him with a hand sign.

"Show respect, Tamlin." You warn him in a serious tone that he has never heard on you. You feel a little guilty, so you add, "and please extend your arms down your body or the roots won't be able to catch you."

"What?"

"Shhh" You shush him once more. Silence is restored again, and for a few minutes the only audible sound is the forest. Then you start chanting a prayer and Tamlin does not recognize the words, but he recognizes the language. It is the ancient language of the Fae, long since forgotten. How do you know it? No, how do the fairies know it?

The problem he has just posed fades when he feels something touch him basically all over, from his neck to his feet. He opens the eyes he didn't even realize he had closed. Luminescent roots are pinning him to the ground. What the hell? Is this by any chance a trap?

He tries to struggle, but it's too late, and whatever prayer you're reciting is blocking all his powers. He watches you, your eyes closed and your lips whispering ancient and long-forgotten words. All this time you have been luring him to you with your perfect face and those inviting wings only to do what, kill him? Tamlin feels bitterness in his mouth.

You open your eyes after the trees inform you that something is wrong. You look at Tamlin trying to free himself from the roots and squint, it's a miracle you didn't pull your hands off the ground or you would have interrupted the ritual.

"Tam! Stop immediately or all this will be for nothing!" You say alarmed. He looks at you coldly, anger and rancor in his eyes. You don't understand, wasn't this what he wanted? Maybe it's your fault, you're doing something wrong. Your eyes become glossy.

"Are you trapping me?" He asks. Everything is clearer to you now; you giggle when you realize what all the fuss was about. He thought you were trying to hurt him!

"No, silly." Laughter shakes your shoulders. "The roots will reach to your heart, to listen to it. They won't hurt you!" Tamlin mentally calls himself a fool.

You smile at him one last time before closing your eyes again and resuming your chants.

After minutes, or maybe hours, the roots finally begin to recede and your prayers cease. You take your hands off the earth and thank Mother one last time. You get up, stretching your legs and yawning. The sun is rising and the other fairies are probably waking up now. Tamlin stands up, supporting the leaf with one hand, and looks at you expectantly. You blush heavily and go back behind the tree.

You make your way to him toward the flower field, while meanwhile your friends have gathered in a circle to find out the verdict. You keep your chin up, proud. You have always been on their side, never on this. You take great pride for what you just did.

"I thought the ritual was over." Tamlin whispers from behind your ear. Your wings seem to shiver at that closeness.

"Not yet. Now the Village Chiefs will open the flower and tell if you possess a pure heart." You turn to him and point a finger at his chest. He takes the hand you used and kisses your knuckles, smiling at you. Your eyes land on your bare feet as a lovely blush covers your cheeks.

You bring him next to Dina and Finn, who seems to have recovered, and they put Tamlin between them.

You retrace your steps to the small clearing where you performed the ritual and grab the taller flower that sprang up where Tamlin once lay. More than flower, a bud.

And when the two Village Chiefs make it bloom, then the color of its petals will tell whether he can enter or not.

You place it in Dina's hands and stand beside her. Your heart is pounding even if you already know that Tamlin has a pure heart. You are also happy that the Village Chief fairy trusted you so much that she gave you such a complex task.

Also, you feel useful! This is one of the few rituals you can do without a mate.

Dina begins to blow on it, murmuring a pleading prayer to the Mother, and then passes the sprout to Finn, who does the same. Finally it reaches the hands of Tamlin, who holds it uncertain of what to do. He meets your gaze in a question, and you smile at him, nodding, indicating that everything is going according to schedule.

The flower slowly blooms, revealing a beautiful rose -- white.

You laugh ecstatically and run to hug Tamlin, who is initially confused, but after your gesture understands he has passed the ritual. The Village Chiefs offer him a little bow and as if by instinct he reciprocates, one hand still clasped in yours and the other holding the lovely flower between his fingers.

The crowd of fairies thins out, the Village Chiefs themselves leave to begin their day, and it remains just you and Tamlin in the flower field.

"What does it mean if the flower is white?"

"Not only is your heart pure, TamtTam, but kind. You are kind hearted. And you did so well!" You exclaim, your eyes glistening with happiness. The wings must have twitched as many times as the fingers on your hands. He smiles sweetly at you.

"What now?" He asks you. You stare at him for a while and think about what is missing to show him: unfortunately nothing, you already showed him everything a few nights ago. Just as you're oing to pout, Violet and Spring appear from behind a flower, making you squeal excitedly. You jump and keep touching Tamlin's arm to get his attention, and when you have it, you point to a burgundy-red flower.

"Look, TamTam. Those are the little animals I told you about, the two fawns! Do you want to meet them?" And how could Tamlin say no, when you look at him with those big bunny eyes.

read more about tamlin and fairy here! 🎀

[r0-boat]

TW: MENTION OF LOSING A LIMB/GORE MENTION please be advised.

Hello! I have a prompt where, the reader pushes there lover (warden Ingo, cyllene, laventon, adaman SEPARATE) away from an Alpha Pokemon attack and then get seriously injured (like losing a limb or something) and them crying and telling us off on how we could have died or grieving our death.

(both surviving and dying endings please)

Oh yes delicious angst! 👀

Cw: almost losing a limb/losing a limb, reader death, mourning, depression, angst no happy end.

Reader becoming severely injured or dying saving them.

Warden Ingo

(Close call)

Ingo carried you, blood staining his coat and your outfit. He carried you going as fast as he humanly could down until the nearest doctor, anyone who could help—screaming for help, keeping you warm, and losing more blood in any way he could. When you finally wake up, Ingo is out of breath and on the verge of tears. He holds you close, tight, and protective. He couldn't get mad at you. He could never be mad. He was just relieved you were all right. However I would be lying if I said he wouldn't be a little more protective from now on.

(reader dead)

He stared at a shaky palm, remembering the way you went slack in his arms, bags under his eyes from sleepless nights filled with new and old nightmares. The painful feeling of losing something was so painful; however, what scared him more was that this feeling was familiar to him. The emptiness inside him was only doubled after. He can't even look at himself anymore because whatever stares back is your smiling face and deja vu. Even though he knows he must take care of himself, he has to admit it's hard even to bring himself to eat these days without looking over to your smiling face how he misses you're warmth in his arms. Now, all he feels is the cold, howling wind of Coronet Heights. Once again that loneliness fills him in this time; it will be there till his grave. Ingo cannot love again for he can not feel that love again.

Cyllene

(close call)

Survivors guilt, as you lie there on the ground losing blood at an alarming rate. She's frozen. She's almost in denial as other survey members rush to your limb body. Cyllene finally snaps out of it all. Her panic hits her all at once, barking orders to get you back to camp.

Unfortunately Pesselle running low on supplies and with time running out she wasn't sure she would be able to save you. Upon hearing this Revelation something inside her stoked a fire Cyllene took it upon herself to go out and find every single ingredients she needed helping her nurse you back to health, of course you being unconscious from blood loss for a few days you had no idea all you woke up to was an angry rant from a very very pissed captain.

(Death)

After all she did, she couldn't save you. Sadness and rage bubble into one, gritting her teeth, nails scratching at the cold ground; she wants to scream. Damn it why wasn't it her? Damn, it should have been her! The job of the Galaxy Core was to protect people and she couldn't even protect the one person she cared most. She needed to get stronger she needed to be more so this would never happen again. And that's why her heart grows three times colder that day.

Laventon

(close call)

Laventon drag you outside of Camp to look at some Pokemon well he asks you to ready your pokeballs for a catch, but he doesn't notice the alpha Garchomp that had their eyes on you. Everything was a blur then helplessly sitting still as the rest of Team Galaxy tried everything to use your Pokemon to fight the alpha back off as they get you back to safety. If only he could throw a Pokeball if he were good at raising Pokemon. Laventon felt like a burden to you here he was having you risk his life to do his work any friendly wake up he's on the verge of tears holding you closely his hands shaking the sinking feeling of uselessness does not leave.

(Death)

He drowns himself in his work. It is the only way to make him forget about his constant nightmares of that day. He still loves Pokemon. He does not blame Pokemon for taking your life, but he recognizes more than anyone else that Pokemon are as dangerous as they are fascinating. It'll be a while since he touches one without his heart beating with anxiety. He barely eats. He sleeps. All he does is work on his Pokedex. He has to finish it for your sake, or else all the dangerous work you did, the work you died for, will be for nothing, and when he finally finishes, it will say, "With the help of my beloved, thank you. I will miss you."

Adaman

(close call)

If it wasn't for Leafeon who growled at the large Pokemon making sure it didn't take a step closer as his human brother held you in his arms, blood staining his fingers. Leafeon successfully holding back the Pokemon that threatened your life walks over to Adaman whining as he looks your arm giving him a worried look. Adaman knows the natural remedies around these parts you are too far from the settlement and the village to take care of you so he does all that he can using leafeon's aromatherapy to soothe you as he begins to use natural herbs and revenues to calm the bleeding as much as he can while ripping apart his own clothes for makeshift bandages rumoring through your bag for anything he could use anything at all to help.

Upon waking up, Adaman almost tackles you, holding you close to his body, careful not to hurt you. He squeezes you gently. "You're an idiot..." he whispers, his hand shaking, his voice breaking. "don't you ever scare me like that again."

(death)

If only he was faster and in denial at the fact that your time has ended. If only he hadn't wasted his time, he could have gotten you to the settlement, and you would have been here. He felt like a failure, not only a failure of a friend but a failure of the leader of Diamond Clan. If he couldn't keep one person he loved alive, how could he keep his entire Clan alive? Time is truly short. However, some people, if unlucky, can be even shorter. He'll spend all his days morning into training, getting stronger in your name until he has passed out on the ground. He knows that he's just wasting his time and that no amount of tears will bring you back. He did not deserve you; you did not serve your time being robbed. The Lord Sinnoh is so cruel.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lost 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

When your shift ends, you leave the shop, heading down the same way you came. You stop at the corner of Mason and think better of going that route. You take that man’s advice and go along Doxtator instead. It’s quieter, there aren’t as many businesses so not as many people loitering and tossing cigarette butts.

You come up to the shared house and enter through the side door as usual. You wouldn’t call it routine yet, you haven’t been there long enough, but a ripple of deja vu comes over you. You keep your head down as you enter the kitchen. As you do, there’s another person in there.

You don’t know if you should say hello. You haven’t seen this man before. He must be one of the others. He pulls a box of rice crackers out of the cupboard and ignores your presence. You follow his lead and don’t say a word as you set your bag on the counter and pull out the drawer. You write your name on the few items you got from the store before you left; a box of cereal, a carton of milk, and some packets of ramen.

You put it all away as the other resident traipses off down the hallway, shuffling footsteps reverberating off the shabby walls. You shut the fridge as you hear the outside door open and shut. As you turn, the other man enters; the big one with the shaggy hair. S as you think of him.

He nods at you as you fold up the paper bag and shove it in the bin. He goes to the cupboard and opens the door. He sighs and takes out the same box of crackers as the last man. He shakes it and tuts. You see then the S marked on the side.

You leave, not wanting to get involved. You feel bad that someone else took his food but you also don’t need the drama. You hate conflict. At least now, you know to watch your things. Maybe later you’ll sneak out and retrieve your ramen so you can preserve a few meals.

You’re not very hungry. Your appetite is sparse these days. Maybe it’s this place. You can’t quite settle in, maybe because you hope it’s only temporary. Yet, you can’t say if that’s because you’re holding onto hope that by some miracle you could go back to your former life or that you might even forge a new one.

You lock the door and turn on the standing lamp. You fold your coat over the metal frame of the bed and sit to untie your shoes and peel off your socks. You change into a loose pair of sweatpants and a plain tea with a Pepsi logo on it. Not your clothes, another set of charity tatters.

You lay down and stare at the wall. You used to have a television in your room. You’d watch the old sitcoms they replayed on the public access channel. Or you’d listen to music and knit something. You had at least a dozen scarves more than you needed. You might be able to afford some needles and yarn after your first pay.

The cone of light casts a low haze through the tight space. Your eyes slowly close as thoughts of shutting off the lamp fade into your subconscious. You’re asleep before you can feel yourself drift off.

���

You wake to a strange sound. Your eyes flick open to the yellow lamplight as you lay stiffly on your back. You groan as your cramped muscles tug. You stretch and the bed frame creaks with your movement.

The scratching continues. You’re not surprised. You would expect mice in a place like this. There were some at the shelter too. They mostly left you alone, just skittered by as they searched out crumbs.

It gets louder as you sit up, tilting your head as you try to loosen the knot between your shoulders. You stand slowly, daunted by the pang across your hips. The mattress is thin and you can feel the frame on the other side.

“I know you’re awake, sweetie,” the voice startles you as it slips beneath the door. You stop your arm midreach as you go to click off the lamp. You peek over and see the shadow shift under the door. “Sweetie? I can see your light’s still on, why don’t you open the door?”

You don’t know the voice. It’s pitchy and uneven. The sickening tune behind it makes your stomach wrench. You stay far from the door as the handle jiggles, the deadbolt keeping it from opening.

“Sweetie. I just wanna talk. You don’t have to open the door. Just talk to me…”

You hug yourself and gulp. There were men in the shelter who tried to talk to you, the ones who got too close, who would stand over you while you slept. You were lucky they went away when they were caught.

There’s another shift and the floorboards groan. You hear an odd scuff and see something slide beneath the door slowly. Little by little. It’s a hand mirror, just thin enough to fit. Oh my god.

“Sweetie, I wanna know your na–”

The click of a mechanism and the grind of hinges interrupt your unwanted visitor. The mirror stills and the floor creaks again. You chew your lip as you listen with bated breath.

“Oh, hi,” the same voice greets someone.

“Go,” the deep voice orders gruffly.

“You can’t make me–”

“What are you doing out here?” The other man asks. You recognise S’s timbre.

“N-nothing. I live here too. I can be in the halls,” the strange man responds.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“I wasn’t making noise.”

There’s a pause. Footsteps follow, getting closer, and you hear the squeaky voice utter a ‘no’ as the mirror wiggles slightly then is kicked further inside, scuttling over the floor.

“What the hell?” S growls, “you leave her alone.”

“I wasn’t bothering her–”

“I know what you were doing. I know who you are. What you are. So go before I crush you like the worm you are,” S’s words make even you shrink in fear.

“Ha, you think you deserve her. Because you look like you do,” the other man accuses, “you don’t scare me.”

“I don’t care if I scare you, I’ll break you in half if I see you at her door again,” S sneers and there’s a thump on the door, followed by an ‘oomph’. “Got it?”

“Got… it,” the breathy hiss chokes out, “let me go.”

A sudden scramble of footsteps, as if thrown off balance, clatter across the floor. They continue, quicker and quicker until you can’t hear them. You hear a sniff, then a sigh. A shadow appears at the bottom of the door.

“Hope you’re okay in there,” S says, “I’ll keep an ear out for that creep.” He pauses as if waiting for an answer but you can’t find one past the hammer of your heartbeat, “have a good night.”

The floor groans with his weight as he retreats and his door gently clasps. You can’t move. You lean into the wall and let your legs fold as you slide down onto your bottom. You’ll leave the light on for tonight. You don’t think you can face the dark.

[777bae]

can you please do a jude bellingham fic where they break up but are obviously still in love with eachother and jobe decides to play cupid as he hates seeing them both miserable. angst to fluff. tysmm

Here you go sweetie <3

── Second chances

PAIRING… Jude Bellingham x fem!reader | Genre… angst | WC… 1.9k

“Jobe, I’ve already told you before, it’s not going to happen.” You grimace through the phone, gaining the feeling of deja vu after already having spoken with him about this many times before.

“Come on y/n, please.” He practically begged, as you just sighed over the overwhelming memories causing a sharp pain in your heart.

“Jobe, I’m sorry but we’ve both moved on, what once was should be left in the past.” You responded in the most confident way possible despite the potential tears threatening to fall, knowing that you were lying about the latter.

“Okay, I’m sorry for asking, I just miss you coming over and cooking for us.” Jobe mumbles as you slightly smile at his last comment.

“I miss you too Jobe, but I guess this is just how things are meant to be now.” You reason before letting out another sigh. “I’ve got to go now but I’ll see if I can catch up with you another time.”

“Okay, see you.” He bids farewell as you reciprocate, quickly ending the call as you remain seated in your place, looking down whilst questioning the past and whether what you chose to do was inherently correct.

—

“I promise you it didn’t happen!” Jude shouts.

“What do you mean it didn’t happen? There’s photo evidence!” You respond as you pull up the clear photo, extremely clear in fact, of Jude kissing another girl. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you going to a club!”

“Babe let me expl-”

“What is there to explain? It’s all here!” You interrupt him, pointing back at the photo.

“Babe, seriously-”

“Stop calling me ‘babe’! You’ve already proved how much I truly mean to you, I can’t stand looking at you right now! I never want to see your face in front of me again! Whatever we were is over!” You shout in frustration before picking up your handbag and beginning to walk to the front door.

“Y/n please, if you just let me explain.” Jude tries to reason as he grabs ahold of your hand to stop you.

“Please, don’t touch me.” You pull your hand away, turning to see the look of desperation on his face. “I can’t believe you would do this! Just leave me alone.”

You silently walk out of the house after that, this time without anyone trying to hold you back before the tears begin to stain your cheeks, your heart aching entirely.

—

After the call, your mind could only focus on what once was, unable to move your attention onto something different no matter how hard you tried.

You thought you were able to forget, hopefully suppress the memories as it hurt too much to reminisce.

A sudden ping from your phone caused you to immediately lose track of your thoughts as you immediately picked up your phone, sighing as you saw who the send was.

“Hey, can you come and cook me something, mum and dad are out.”

Chuckling lightly at the young boy's antics, you quickly sent a response before getting up and putting your coat on. You shortly walked out of the house, the cold winter air causing you to shiver as you quickly stepped into your car.

Soon arriving in front of the relatively large house, you paused once again, reminiscing the many times you visited this house before finally sliding out and walking up to the front door.

Before you could even knock on the door, however, it flung open, revealing the last person you wished to see.

You both stood still, staring at one another in shock for a few moments before he finally spoke up.

“Y/n? I didn’t realise you were coming over.” Before you could even respond Jobe popped up from behind, practically skipping over to you with a large smile on his face.

“Y/n! You’re here!” Jobe exclaims, a mischievous smile practically implanted onto his face. You watched Jude’s face as he slowly began to realise what you were actually there for.

“Come on inside, you’re letting all the cold air out.” Jobe suggests before pulling you in by your arm, leaving Jude standing in the doorway, unsure on what to do. “So what are you going to cook?”

You lightly smack the boy's shoulder in disappointment before speaking. “Wow, you don’t even know how to greet a guest.”

“Ow! Sorry, sorry.” He exclaims as you turn back to face the door, noticing that Jude was no longer standing there.

“Come on, what are you waiting for? I’m hungry!”

—

Once again, you were sitting contemplating the events of the past, no matter how much your conscience told you how wrong it was you just couldn’t help it. Seeing him for the first time again, after months felt like when you first met him.

Love at first sight was not something you believed in until you met him.

You were helping out at one of Jobe’s training sessions and it just so happened that the man himself was there to take the young boy home.

Small conversation was made between you two as you waited for the session to conclude, Jude sheepishly asking for your number afterwards caused butterflies to explode inside you. But it just so happened that it was all a lie.

The sudden call ringtone caused you to practically jump out of your skin as you quickly answered.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, are you free right now?” You immediately recognised the voice.

“Yes, are you alright Jobe?”

“Y/n please help, one of the coaches is sick so we don’t have anyone to ref our practice match.” Jobe requested as you lightly sighed, accepting that you were never going to escape from this boy.

“Give me a few minutes.” You finally respond as he quickly thanks you before you both hang up.

You soon arrived onto the playing grounds, immediately being greeted by an over enthusiastic Jobe, pulling you onto the grass.

You previously playing came into use as the mini match got on well and eventually ended with Jobe’s team winning, earning a tight hug from him.

You all began to clear off the grass as you stood on the side, waiting to bid your goodbyes with the boy once again.

“Y/n?” You froze, the voice you could immediately recognise causing you to tense up. How could you not recognise it? The voice you loved for oh so long.

“Jude, hi.” You finally respond, turning to him as you spared him a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” He questions, looking at you sceptically.

“Oh, Jobe asked me to ref a game.” You explain, motioning to the pitch as Jude just nods, no more words exchanged between the two of you.

“Y/n you’re still here? Oh hi Jude.” Jobe finally arrives, a slight smirk on his face however you could depict why in particular.

“Yeah, I just wanted to say goodbye but you took so long.” You explain, crossing your arms over your chest as you hear stifled laughter next to you.

“Sorry, I had to talk to a coach about something.” He tries to reason as you just shake your head in disapproval.

“I’ll be heading back now.” You announce before pulling the tall boy into a hug, to which he returns before walking over to your car, unsure on whether you should have bid your goodbyes to the other.

—

You had soon grown used to the constant messaging of requests from the boy, not even questioning who most of the senders were.

You were more than happy to help him, feeling as though you needed to repay him for the kindness you received since you first met him. However, each encounter somehow ended up in you coming face to face with your world renowned ex.

He no longer questioned why you were where you were, already knowing it was due to his brother’s antics.

And so you weren’t surprised when you received yet another text.

“Can you come to the house please, I need help with something.” Sighing, you slowly get up not rushing as much as you used to, eventually leading you to end up, once again, standing outside of his house, this time requiring you to knock on the door.

Unfortunately you were pleasantly surprised by the person who opened the door.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” He questions, giving you deja vu to a few weeks ago, when you first arrived in front of his house.

“Jobe asked me to come help him with something.” You explain, gently smiling at him.

“Jobe isn’t at home right now.” Jude answers, earning a confused expression from you. “Well… do you want to come in for a quick drink?”

You lightly nod after spending a few seconds considering your pros and cons. Placing your coat onto a hanger before taking your shoes off brought back the many memories you had created in this house.

You sat down on a chair by the countertop before you watched him prepare your drink, reminding you of how he used to always do when you came around.

After a few minutes he was done, placing the drink down in front of you and smiling at you lightly, to which you returned as the both of you remained quiet, unsure on what to say.

“I’m sorry-” You both say, breaking the silence as you look at each other in surprise.

“You go first.” He suggests.

“No, you go first.” You argue as he just nods his head.

“I’m sorry, about everything, I should have stopped her before she tried, I jude, kinda, froze in the moment.” He explains, avoiding eye contact as he did so.

“I’m sorry for not letting you explain, I was just so hurt, I wasn’t thinking straight. I saw the articles confirming she forced you, I was just too ashamed to face you.” You splutter out whilst looking down, not wanting to meet his eyes.

Silence filled the room as neither of you looked at each other, ashamed to think you deserve forgiveness until you felt his hand on yours, a familiar comfort bringing you peace.

You remain in place, unsure on what to do, conflict occurring within your mind until you finally come up with a conclusion.

Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you quickly pulled him towards you, his surprised face being the last thing you see before your lips finally connected, the feeling of euphoria overcoming you as you instantly felt Jude reciprocate, both of you smiling into the kiss.

You both eventually pulled away, staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments before Jude pulled you into a tight hug.

“You don’t know how much I missed this.” You heard him mumble as you lightly nodded.

“Me too, Jude. Me too.” You answer as you remain in his arms, not wanting to ever leave this warmth.

—

The sound of the front door opening caused your eyes to instantly open, unsure on who would be arriving.

Suddenly, the head of a young boy stuck out from the hallway, a cheeky grin on his face as he began wiggling his eyebrows at the sight of you and your supposed ‘ex’ cuddling on the sofa.

Rolling your eyes, you immediately realise that he had planned this as you remembered the messages he had sent you, the fact that every time he asked you to be somewhere, Jude would always end up being there too. The smirks you constantly received from the young boy whenever you had the guts to speak to his brother.

And although you pretended to be annoyed at his mischievous plotting, you couldn’t help but smile at the lovely sight of a sleeping young man next to you, and deep down, you were grateful for Jobe pulling you two back together, allowing you to both have a second chance.

[creamecafe]

Hii!! Can you do one for Stephen where he found out he and the reader are married in several words thanks to America, and the two of you are pining for each other until he accidentally reveals he’s truly in love with you? Thank you!! <33

I Know I'd Go Back to You

Summary: Stephen has always loved you and you with him from the start. But you both ended things on short notice. Until America reveals you both are together in different worlds in the multiverse, will Stephen take the risk to let it happen in his universe?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x GN!Reader

Word Count: ???

Warnings: none just fluff, pining, a bit of angst, flashbacks, heartbreak, deja vu to palmerstrange 🥲

Author's Note: I'm literally so sorry @smokeywhalee that this literally almost took 2 years. But here it is, FINALLYY! Hope you enjoy

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Stephen Strange Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Join my taglist!

Read on Wattpad and AO3 here

Life was normal for neurosurgeon, Doctor Stephen Strange and for you too. You both met in college in New York, he was studying to be a doctor and you were studying to be a lawyer. 

Despite your guys' different classes times and different career choices, both of you had a unexplainable attraction to each other. You started off as friends, Stephen would walk you to your class or you would walk out during the four seasons.

But both of you knew you wanted something more. It wasn't until in March 2013 that Stephen asked you to be his partner. He was a nervous wreck, worried that he would ruin the friendship, you both have. But you said yes. Now being with you is the best thing to happen and to occupy his life happily besides being a neurosurgeon.

You would wait for him after work to drive home and spend time together. He would also love to take you on expensive and fancy dates, because he always wanted the best for you. Life was going great for the both of you. 

Until February 2, 2016 came. The day of Stephen got into a car crash. You were waiting for him in the restaurant with the reservation you guys both made 5 months in advance. 

10 minutes had passed and you started to become worried. You knew he wasn't the type of guy to stood you up or leave you hanging. It was until you got a call from the hospital Stephen works at. You picked it up

"Hello?" Your voice shaking nervousily

"Hello, is this Y/N?" 

"Yes it is"

"I'm sorry to inform you that Stephen Strange has been in a car crash and is in critical need."

Your heart stopped. You couldn't believe this was happening. Stephen gotten into a car crash. 

"Oh-oh my God. Is he ok?" Your voice got higher and shaking even more

"We're trying to take care of him right now and get him under care as immediate as possible."

"I'm on my way, please tell him that."

"Will do, sorry to tell you the news."

Grabbing your coat, you wasted no time leaving the restaurant. You explained to the waitress you have to leave to a emergency. You called out a taxi and asked to go to Metropolitan General Hospital." 

7 minutes passed with traffic in the way. You ran to the front desk and asked to see Stephen Strange, saying you were his partner. The lady in the front told you that he's in surgery and won't be conscious in another day or two. You were willing to wait those days, just to make sure he was still alive. You took a seat in the waiting room, hoping and praying Stephen would be ok. The anxiety was eating away of how bad his condition could be. Soon enough, you fell asleep until the next day.

You take a look at your phone and see it's 5am of February 3, 2016. You go to buy yourself a snack fron the vending machine as you missed your dinner from the restaurant you and Stephen were supposed to be. You waited and bought 2 more snacks to keep yourself awake. 

"Y/N L/N?" 

Your head raised to who was calling you. 

"Y/N L/N?" 

Ahead of you see a lady in a white coat and scrubs with a clipboard call your name.

"That's me." You raise your hand.

"You can see Stephen now."

Your heart beat gladly. It must be a sign he's still alive, probably the not best condition but you're glad he's still alive. 

You go to him room and see him in bed. His right eye is swollen and both of his hand are raised up supported by strings and 11 stainless steel pins to support his nerves. He was sleeping. You quietly thanked the nurse. 

You sat by him and waited till he woke up. 25 minutes have passed and he did. 

You held his shoulder gently until he was fully conscious. 

"Hey, hey. It's me Y/N. It's going to be ok." 

Stephen looks at you and looks at his hands. 

"What did they do?"

You explained everything that the doctor told you and how long he was in surgery, the same time you waited for him to make sure he was well.

He repeated the same words "What they did do?" Can't believing what his eyes are seeing. 

The next past few days you stayed by his side to make sure he was well. You were by his side in therapy, helped him shaved supporting him along the way. 

But his attitude didn't change of bitter he had become. And he definitely didn't show appreciation for you either. You went into his apartment to drop off the groceries you bought for him. He was upset due to a meeting regarding a procedure in Tokyo. He was going on he needs a loan of at least $200,000. 

You tried to tell him it's best for him to stop as this was having so much control over him, especially his condition. He explains that no matter how much therapy he receives, he's not getting any better, can't get back to the way he was before.

You explain to him that there other things that can give his life meaning. 

"Like what? Like you?" He snapped back at you.

You were shocked. He never spoken to you in a matter like this before. No matter how cocky he could be, he knew better than to talk to you in a way that he knew could hurt you.

"This is the part where you apologize."

"This is the part where you leave." 

That's when it hit you, he really changed. He wasn't the same boy who would walk you to class or always compliment your outfits. He was still Stephen, but not the Stephen you have loved for 3 years. 

You try to talk to him, but he still had this fire coming out of his voice, like daggers stabbing.

"You just care so much, don't you?" Stephen yelled.

"Goodbye Stephen." You went ran out the door and slammed it behind you. You went to your car and started driving to your place. But you couldn't hold it in anymore. You were crying, sobbing. You didn't want things to end this way, but you can't bear to see Stephen this way or the way hes treating you. 

A year pass and you're going on in your normal life. That's when Stephen makes a portal to where you are. You are scared and shocked. But also confused to what he's wearing. He apologizes everything to you and the way he treated you. You accept it but didn't feel ready to get back with him. Stephen accepts and leaves you be, taking on protecting the world as new priority. He's just at hurt as you a year ago with breaking up with you. But he knows he must move on. 

In 2018 the blip happens and you disappear, so does Stephen Strange. 5 years later you come back and you try to get your life back to normal. Stephen tried to do the same but couldn't stop thinking of you still. 

Later on, he meets a teenage girl named America Chavez that can travel through the multiverse. 

With different versions of Stephen around the multiverse, he didn't realize the possiblity of still being with you. 

"How's Y/N?" America asked. 

"They're good. Happy. They're happy." Shaking, Stephen says, now thinking about you. 

"I can imagine. They're happy with you."

"Uh, well we're not together. We used to be. We broke up 8 years ago. I disappeared due to the snap and it felt like we ended things on short notice."

"What? You both are not together in this universe?" 

He was confused about what America meant by that. "Together? In this universe?" 

"What do you mean this universe?" 

"Every Stephen I know there with Y/N. You both are together. Married. It always felt to me no matter what universe it was, you always were meant to be together. And nothing could stop that."

He had to stop and think for a moment. Every universe he's with you?

"I'm with Y/N in every universe?

"Don't you love Y/N?" 

"I do. But it was 8 years ago, almost a decade. They most likely moved on..."

"You'll never know if you don't tell them. America interrupts. "In a million ways it can go where you are together, why not risk one chance. Tell them how you feel."

He thought about it. Being with you is the only thing that can help him be at ease. Making amends with you is something he doesn't want to stop doing.

He practices of how he's going to talk to you, what he will say. Walking back and forth, he's trying to think of the right words. 

"Don't overthink it. Just talk naturally, say how you really feel."

"I don't know if I can. What if they already moved on?" 

"You'll never know unless you tell them. Come on, I know you can do this." 

Stephen takes America's word into his mind and try to come up what to say.

He spent the next few days going over of how he's going to approach you and he knew exactly what to say.

Until he thought he did until he saw you. He greteted you and you did the same. He was a stuttering mess with you

"Y/N-Y/N. I would like to tell-tell you something."

"Ok, what is it?"

This was it, he could tell you.

"I was thinking we could get coffee sometimes." He cursed himself in his head.

Why couldn't he say what he really wants to, to you?

"Uh sure, what day? Because this whole week and the next I'm kinda really busy."

"Tuesday?"

"Yeah that could work, oh wait I have a meeting"

"Friday then?"

"Friday, but could it be at 6pm because I have-"

"I love you Y/N."

You were stopped talking and were taken back.

"What?"

Oh no. This could be the perfect opportunity to tell her everything or mess up, or both.

"I tried to stop thinking about you, but I can't. And it's okay you don't feel the same way. I love you. I love you in every universe."

Stephen took a deep breath and waited for you to say something, anything. He knew he would mess it up and make it awkward quick.

That's when you kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his neck. He was taken back, but soon melted into the kiss and he wrapped his arms around you back.

"I can't, couldn't stop thinking about you either. I love you too Stephen." A tear goes down your cheek.

This made him happy, America was right all along. It looks like you guys were meant to be after all.

Taglist: @bitchy-bi-trash

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