#do you know what true darkness looks like? have you ever been to a town with a population of less than 20?

[isawken]

fuck it. post ohiocore

[misstycloud]

Yandere merman x reader x best friend

———————————————————————

Imagine a darling finding out she’s half-mermaid.

She lives in a small fishing village way out in he country. It’s the kind of town no one ever leaves. You’re born, grow up, and die there. Whole generations of families have lived there since long before.

Her parents are normal folks; father’s sailor and mother’s a stay-at-home wife. But since darlings family is so much like others’, she doesn’t understand why she’s so different. Her mother often jokes about how her first word was ‘sea’ and how she’d find her standing in her crib, staring out the window at the waves crashing into the cliffs.

Darling has been in a constant battle with herself her whole life. Since as long as she can remember she’s had a gripping fascination with the ocean. She can’t help it! Every night when everyone else laid sound-asleep in their beds, did she lie awake and fantasize about sneaking out and disappearing under the dark waves. No matter how hard she tried shutting these thoughts away, they always came back to haunt her.

While her mother thought is was cute and not a problem, it couldn’t be anything more. Her mother didn’t understand- as sweeet as she was. It probably stemmed from her being too busy with darlings younger siblings and doing chores, that she didn’t think of how the village spoke of her daughter. They call her strange and speak of what a waste of beauty on someone like her; she’s no good and you can’t marry her. Her mother didn’t know about how the rest of the kids teased darling. They pulled her her and pushed he on the ground. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her to find her school books wet with sea water, since she ‘likes it so much’. The teachers didn’t care either.

The only solace darling can find is in her best friend. He always defended her agaisnt her bullies- which was practically everyone- and stayed by her side, even when he could become affected too. Darling feels he’s too good to her. The times she felt so alone, he was there to comfort her when her confidence was at its lowest. He held her when she cried and patted her back, whispering into her ear about how sweet and beautiful she is.

Then, by chance one day, she meets a merman. She is surprised- merfolk only exists in stories after all! The merman is so inhumanly beautiful. With long hair cascading down his back and a long fish tail. His tail looked very strong, he was no doubt an excellent swimmer. At first she is scared of him, she runs away-ignoring his shouts for her to come back- and keeps to herself in her room. Her family is worried and wonders if something is wrong, but she tells them it’s nothing and that she’s just a little tired. In her room, darling thinks about the merman. How is it possible for him to exist? Was she hallucinating and perhaps he wasn’t real? Are there other mythological creatures out there? After overcoming her initial fear and hesitance, she decides to go back to the beach.

The merman was still there. She dares ask how he can talk and he responds with, “My people don’t speak the way you do, but I have taught myself the language of humans. That’s how I am communicating with you.”

She asks him more questions, all of which he answers truthfully. Or, well, she hoped he wasn’t trying to deceive her. Darling even gained the courage of asking whether the stories of merfolk feastin on human flesh is true, and when the merman confirms it’s indeed true, she backs up. When he notices her alarmed state, he hurriedly add that he would never eat her.

It’s then he hits her with the most shocking reveal of her life. Apparently, he senses mer- blood in her vains.

“….n-no, that can’t be. You must be sensing wrong- I’m human..!”

He sighs. “Merfolk are very intuitive. We always recognise our own kind.”

He reveals that he suspect her of being half- merfolk since the scent of mer is strong on her. Darling thinks it’s laughable, both her parents are perfectly human. It can’t be. Like, she’d notice if one of her parents was a mythological creature with a fish tail as a lower half.

The merman tells her of old stories among his people, of mers who reproduced with humans- whether its be willingly or the human had kidnapped them. The children would always be different. On the surface they appeared like any other human, but on the inside there would constantly be a longing to return to their orgins- the ocean. Darling is conflicted. On one hand she can’t believe what she’s hearing, however, the description of the half- bloods fit her too well.

That night she confronts her father while he’s getting off work. He breaks instantly. She is shocked to discover that her father had an affair with a mermaid whilst being married to her mother. He had discovered her while fishing in an unpopular area and took her with him. He sobs that he couldn’t help it, the mermaid was so enchanting he couldn’t control himself. When the mermaid fell pregnant, he was so scared of what his wife would say when she found out, but when the child came out human, he was puzzled but relieved at the same time. He brought the baby home and played it off as finding it abondoned by the docks.

Darling can’t believe it. Her father was practically a monster. She recalled the tales of kidnapped merfolk held against their will, by the merman. She couldn’t imagine what her birth mother must’ve gone through. Her father begs her not to tell her mother because it would destroy the happy family they’d built.

In the end, she chooses to keep the secret for the time being. The right thing was to tell her mother, but it was also true that it would ruin everything and she didn’t want her younger siblings to grow up in a broken family. The only thing she wanted was for her father to leave her alone and never speak to her unless absolutely necessary. He agreed.

She begins spending all her time by the beach, in the company of the merman. She wondered what his name was, and to her bewilderment, he shrugged and said he didn’t have one. So she decides to give him one herself, Aqualor. It seemed merfolk-y enough. Luckily, the merman didn’t object and smiled instead, accepting the name.

Her best friend is worried though. He can never seem to even catch a glimpse of the love of his life anymore. Where was she? Now that they’d both grown into adults, it became harder to see each other; he had to work to support himself(and her, in the future). He felt horrible about it, but in all honesty he was a little glad the rest of the village didn’t take to her. If they did, surely she would have been taken away from him. Even if she didn’t know it, she was incredibly beautiful. It was impossible for him not to be a little biased, but she truly was the most wonderful thing he’d laid his eyes on. He could only imagine how it’d be if people actually treated her like she looked.

While her best friend felt the separation anxiety, darling count be happier. Finally she had someone who understood her fully. There was someone to relate to when she explained the urge to dive deep beneath the waves and disappear, and how pleasant water felt on her skin. Aqualor understood everything perfectly.

Her best memory was of her first swim with Aqualor. She’d been somewhat sacred in he beginning. Despite her desperate longing for the ocean, she’d never been in it much. It was quite ironic. He’d been so patient with her, never pushing or getting annoyed. He waited until she was more comfortable venturing out in the openness. Now they swam together every day, laughing and playing. Of course, Aqualor was the superior swim more out of the two of them, but darling likes to think she isn’t so shabby herself.

This is how she thought the rest of her life would be like; she and Aqualor enjoying each others company from morning to evening, while she returns home to the village every night. She didn’t have a job- no one would hire her anyway- so why not have fun with your friend? It wouldn’t be the best life, but it’d be peaceful and easy.

However, the ‘easy’ disappeared when Aqualor asked if she’d like to join him in the sea permanently.

“What? What do you mean?” She tilted her head in confusion.

The merman flipped his tail in the shallow water- his upper body was on the sand while the rest of him remained in the water. “Would you not like to come with me? We already spend so much time together, so it would hardly be any different.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just leave. I have to stay with my family.” She glanced back up and could see the tiniest snippet of houses, the village.

“You mean the father who has committed sins, a mother who doesn’t care for your feelings and siblings who forget your existence?” He harshly pointed out. His words stung.

“They’re far from perfect, I know that. But still, I can’t just vanish- I don’t even think I can survive out there!”

He grabbed her hand, his were wet and slightly webbed. It didn’t bother her though.

“Of course you can. Remember your heritage? Besides, I will be there and guide you through it. I will protect you, I will hunt for you. It will just be you and me, happy and content. Doesn’t it sound lovely?”

She went quiet and looked away, unsure.

He continued, “You alway tell me of how the humans treat you. They scorn you and say hateful words about you. That is because you are above them.” He smiled. “You do not belong here- you are mer! You should be with your people.”

“But even if I have mer-blood, I’m still human, look at me.” She stretched out her legs, flexing them and empathising their difference.

“You may have the appearance of a human, you soul, however, it is of a mermaid. You long to be free and to live the life you’ve always meant to live. They can’t keep you here in this…” his voice trailed off to disgust “cage.”

Darling sat and listened to Aqualor’s ramblings. Did he have a point? It’s not like anyone would miss her really. Her friend, yes, but he has so much else to live for. He’s not strange and everyone thinks well of him. He’ll be successful.

“So, what do you say, my coral? Will you join me?”

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 2

Squeeee!!! I am absolutely loving the response for this story! This story is going to be a wild ride and I cannot wait for you guys to go on this journey with me!!

In this one we have some backstory and little bit of world building.

Part 1

~

Eddie was not home when Steve arrived at the Munson’s door laden with his goodies. Wayne opened the door and shook his head at the bread and jam.

“You spoil me, Steve,” he said gruffly, taking the basket from him. “Surely that favor I did for you has been repaid by now.”

Steve stepped into the small and homily cottage, shaking his head. “What you did was invaluable. I wouldn’t have been able to setup shop in this town if it wasn’t for you.”

Wayne smiled back and went to go cut the bread. He came back with a plate full of the slices and the tea kettle. He poured them tea and sat down to dig into the raspberry jam.

“You do know the crux of the problem between you and my nephew, right?” Wayne asked after their second cup of tea.

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yes, my ‘go away and don’t come back’ spell I place on every charm I make.” He cocked his head to side. “Except the love ones.”

“Did I ever tell you, Eddie’s mama was a witch?” he asked after polishing off the last of the jam and bread.

Steve furrowed his brow. “You hadn’t, actually. Make it makes sense with the packet of medicine you asked me to replicate. I hope I’m not in her place. That would be really bad.”

Wayne chuckled. “No, you’re not in her place. She lived in a large city not far from here. His father dropped Eddie off on my doorstep merely a week after the funeral and he’s been here ever since.”

Steve looked around at the dark paint job that filled the interior as it had the outside of the cottage. “Was it always like this? Goth, I guess.”

“Mostly,” Wayne said. “The house always had a black roof, but when Eddie moved in, painting the rest of it gave him something to do rather than focus on his mother’s death.”

“I could give him some herbs to help with the sorrow,” Steve said, draining the last of his tea. “I wouldn’t charge. It can be hard to lose a parent so young and then to have the other abandon him so soon after.”

“That’s kind of you,” Wayne said, “but he’s fine now. He was just expecting a much quieter life then people always knocking on our door.”

Steve blushed. “I wish I could help with that, but as my latest customer pointed out, I don’t look ‘the part’, so they completely miss the huge sign in front.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Wayne asked as he cleared the table, “do people who’ve been spelled not be able to return see the sign?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said with a chuckle. “Only it says: If you’re reading this, that means I’ve given you all I can. GO AWAY!”

Wayne burst out laughing. “Good on you, Steve. I’m sorry it’s caused such a mess for both you and us. He’ll come around once he’s use to it.”

Steve shook his head. He doubted that Eddie would ever. But he appreciated the sentiment. He got up to leave, taking his basket with him.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Wayne huffed. “Stop by anytime and not just to drop off my medicine.”

“Tell that to your nephew,” he said with a weary smile. “See you around, Wayne. Take better care of those bones and do those exercises I told you about.” And then he was gone.

Wayne shook his head. Then a head peeked in through the back door.

“Is he gone?” Eddie asked in a harsh whisper.

Wayne turned around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, scaredy-cat. The big, bad, evil witch is gone now.”

Eddie slipped into the cottage and sat down next to Wayne with a sigh. “It’s so annoying. There has got to be a trick because there is no way he is just vanishing. And one day I will catch him at it.”

“Your mother was an actual witch,” Wayne huffed, standing up to wash the tea things. “I still don’t understand how you don’t believe in magic.”

Eddie pulled out a necklace that held a little doll with a lock of dark, curly hair and bit of cloth. “This is why. She told me I find my true love and that they would love me for me all the rest of my days. Then I found out I only like boys and knew it to be some fucking pipe dream. Magic isn’t real, old man. The herbs he gives are just an herbal remedy. There’s no power in that powder.”

Wayne let out a sigh and turned around to lean against the counter top. “I think it’s time I show you something.”

He went over to the trunk in the corner that was never opened and pulled out a key on a chair around his neck. He gently removed the key and used to open the trunk. He rummaged around for a moment and then came back to the table with a photo album and a small doll, very much like Eddie’s own.

“When you’re mama was an apprentice witch she loved making love charms,” he said softly. “It was her favorite thing. She would make charms for anyone who would sit down long enough for her to snip a bit of their hair and clothing.”

Eddie snorted. “Fat lot of good it did her. Dad was a piece of shit.”

Wayne tilted his head to the side. “Your daddy loved your mama. He just wasn’t good at anything else. And that included fatherhood. But she made me one a couple of years after she had you. Said she had a good feeling about this one.” He opened the photo album and flipped through the pages. He landed on a specific page and turned it around to face Eddie.

There beaming up at Eddie in sepia was his uncle, Wayne standing next to another bright young man at what appeared to be their wedding. They were both in tuxes and holding the knife to cut the cake. A cake that had two men as toppers.

“You were married to a man?” Eddie asked frowning up at his uncle in confusion. “How come you never talk about him?”

“His name as Benjamin Hammond and he was the love of my life,” Wayne said, choked up. He ran his fingers over the picture, tracing the lines of the man’s face. “But about a year before your mama died, Benny got real sick. He was a large man, but before he took his own life, he had almost completely wasted away to nothing. Doctors couldn’t find anything wrong and the medicines your mama gave him on eased his physical pain and not the torment of his own mind.”

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “I’m not sure I would have wanted to talk about my true love if he had gone out that way.”

“During that year before your mama got sick,” Wayne continued, fighting back tears, “I blamed her for bringing Benny into my life if love hurt that much to lose.”

“So what changed?” Eddie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She got sick and your daddy gave me you,” Wayne said with a smile. “Made me realize that there was more to life than just your true love. That sometimes the love that sticks around in the one that needs you the most.”

Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in front of his face. “Not really a ringing endorsement of true love.”

“I guess not,” Wayne huffed with a small, fragile smile. “But it’s one for magic though. Because I’ll bet every tile on this roof that your mama used her magic to ensure that you would land somewhere safe, instead of being dragged around God knows where with your daddy.”

Eddie pushed the photo album back to Wayne. “Thanks for telling me. I guess there really is magic in this world, if it brought me to you.”

“Damn right,” Wayne huffed. “Now go wash up and help me make dinner.” He got up and put the album and the doll away.

“How are you still hungry?” Eddie pouted. “You and Steve finished an entire loaf of bread, a jar of jam, and a pot of tea between the two of you.”

Wayne burst out laughing. “Boy, I don’t eat all that, Steve does! Being magical burns up a lot of calories and if he doesn’t eat he can pass out. He brings it over to share so he can honestly tell Robin that he didn’t eat the whole thing.”

Eddie snorted but did as he was told. He helped Wayne peel the potatoes and carrots for a soup that Wayne was going to get started. He pulled a couple of chicken breasts from the ice box. They moved in unison and in no time at all, the soup was bubbling away on the fire.

“What would you say if I said I wanted to strike out on my own?” Eddie murmured, grabbing the broom to sweep out the cottage for something to do with his hands while he talked about an uncomfortable topic.

“Did you want to?” Wayne asked, leaning on the counter with hand on his hip. “I’ll miss the hell out of you, but if that’s truly what you want, you can do as you wish. You’re an adult.”

Eddie stared at the floor for a moment and then pulled out of his vest pocket a letter. “This came today.”

Wayne took it slowly and read even slower. “You striking out on your own or are you falling for the siren song of your daddy?”

Eddie flushed and began sweeping again. “I swear I’m three minds about it at any given moment. One the one hand, he is my father and I want to see him. On another hand, he left me and I’m still angry about that and worry I’ll hit him if I see his face. And that I should steer clear of him.”

“And the third hand?” Wayne prodded gently, handing the letter back to him.

“That I should just strike out on my own,” he said softly. “But pick a direction he ain’t and just find myself out there.”

Wayne nodded. “It’s up to you, but you have to know, you’re father isn’t sincere. I got my own letter from him a week ago asking for money. I don’t have it to give. I do trades to put food on this table and whatever little money I do get it goes back into this cottage.”

Eddie’s lower lip quivered and he nodded back. He finished the sweeping, brushing out of the backdoor.

“I’m going to my room,” he murmured. “Call me when dinner is ready.”

“Of course, Eddie,” he said. “Just know that whatever you chose, I’ll support you the best that I can.”

Eddie nodded and slunk off to his room and closed the door. A few moments later music could be heard coming from the room, the melancholy sounds of his boy’s guitar.

~

One of the best children Steve had as erran runners was Maxine. She preferred Max, but only where her mother couldn’t hear it said. She was a rough and tumble girl who would run around in trousers if her mother would let her.

Susan, her mother had recently remarried to the town’s carpenter and moved in with them. Neil Hargrove and his son and apprentice, Billy were also the town drunks and bullies. They were also damn fine carpenters and the town tolerated them as such.

It was inevitable that Max would come to him for his help. Her request made him chuckle though.

“I just want something to mellow their mood,” she huffed. “I’m not looking for a charm or whatever. I just need them to chill out so that I’m not walking on eggshells all the time.”

“Of course,” Steve said in all seriousness. “I’ll brew you up a tea that you can give everyone and it will improve the mood all around.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, I would hate to have to stop coming here. It’s my safe space.”

Steve chuckled and got to work. Max watched in interest as he mixed both dry and fresh in equal measure and then set it to side to completely dry out. Then he started on something else. And even though she could see him clearly, his movements seemed covered in a kind of fog.

Once he was done he pulled out a loaf of bread and some cheese and ate about half of each.

She raised her eyebrows, that meant he had used magic. And a lot of it, if how much he ate was any indication.

He put the now dried powder into severally light blue packets. “One packet is enough for an entire pot of tea. I’ve given you about a month’s supply.” He put it in a small basket for her and then handed her the basket. He didn’t mind giving them away. Robin made them in her spare time as something to while away the hours.

And then he handed her a black packet. “No one will be able to see this packet but you. And even then only when you intend to use it. You know the tea will only make your stepfather and brother biddable for so long. And when the time comes that it is clear nothing will change them, use this.”

She looked up at him in confusion. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Steve chuckled at her response. Not what it was, but that she didn’t ask for it. “No, but one day you will fear for your life and you will need it.”

She took the packet from him with a frown. “What does it do?”

“It is the final solution,” he said gravely. “But know this, even if you use and you can no one longer see my house, I will come visit you every day. I will never abandon you. Not ever.”

“Will people know I used it?”

He shook his head. “No. Nor will you ever feel guilt about doing so.”

Max nodded and took the packet and put in it the basket. “Will you know when I’ve used it?”

Steve gave her a huge hug. “Yes, I will come the instant that I feel it, okay?”

She hugged back fiercely and then went on her way.

Circe cawed and landed on his shoulder. He stroked her feathers. “I’ll be all right and so will she. It is just the way of the witch that such things are necessary.”

Circe cawed again and then took off out the window, following Max home to make sure she got there safely.

~

Part 3 Part 4

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @themoonagainstmers

[seiwas]

contains: suggestive, slight mentions of alcohol, a lil bit cheesy but when is love not, unedited happy birthday, my love 🥺

hajime doesn’t care much about his birthday.

at least, not as much his mom and oikawa do, with lit up candles and striped party hats in his rumpled godzilla pajamas. it's greetings at midnight, on the dot, no matter what—even through the crackling sound of static over ocean waves.

he definitely doesn’t care about it as much as his college friends do, with them slapping his back and elbowing his side until his ribs hurt just so he can down another shot for the 'nth' year of his existence.

(they try with all their might to get him past the 5th, but he's driving tonight; and if there's anything about hajiime stronger than his tolerance, it's how resolute he is—firm in his beliefs and even more with his principles.)

so, hajime doesn't care much about his birthday.

but you do, and when he says things like—

"it's not that important, we don't have to."

—all you hear is, 'bla bla bla, it's important, bla bla bla we have to.'

you prepared a picnic for him, among all the other activities you planned for today.

this morning, you served him a hefty stack of pancakes with a rice bowl full of his favorites (that he took a bite from oh-so-sweetly, only to push it to the side before gripping your thigh, deciding that he wanted something else for breakfast instead).

then, you went on a hike. just a short trek up his favorite spot an hour out of town. hajime likes being under the sun; he loves the heat, the sweat that trickles down the divots of his muscles because they mean hard work. a good effort. a sign of trying.

he loves tackling you the most in this state—sticky and sweaty, a little slippery. you hate how it mixes in with your sunscreen, but love how hajime feels against your skin, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, and chin tucked sloppily against your neck.

so you let him.

(and even though you tell him he gets a pass because it's his birthday, he knows that isn't true. you always let him do this, anyway.)

his favorite roast beef sandwich, then a shower and dessert (yes, together) later have found yourselves here, at the cusp of sunset, a drive up at your favorite spot overlooking the city.

you prepared a picnic for him, packed all his favorite snacks and berries; made a small chocolate cake with the letters 'hbd hajime ♡' in even smaller fondant cut-outs. simple and minimal (because you know he would prefer it). you intended to watch the sun go down cuddled up in the few blankets you brought, but the weather’s been gloomy for the past 30 minutes, and even worse than that—it's begun to rain.

hajime can sense your stress, he always does, and when he rubs circles on your back telling you, "it's not that important, we don't have to."

you only feel the need to prove him wrong.

if you push forward the chairs in the middle row of his suv, you'll have enough space at the back. and if you park the car to face the view, you can still catch the twinkling of city lights when it turns dark.

the cogs in your brain turn and your brows scrunch as you remain silent, so much so that it begins to worry him.

rain patters against the windshield, and hajime leans over the center console, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"it's okay, babe, you've done so much for me already. we can go back—"

"no," you look him in the eye.

because, it is important.

hajime, the man you love and have loved for the past 4 years; the most hardworking, determined, and considerate man you've ever known was born today, 26 years ago.

and hajime might not care about his birthday because he doesn't think it matters all that much, but it matters to you, because this has been the most important day of the year to you since first meeting him.

"give me a bit," you twist to face the back, "excuse me," urging hajime to move to the side as you cross the center console to the seats at the middle row. you push the seats forward and bend over the backrest, hauling your picnic basket, blankets, and pillows to the now vacant and spacious trunk.

"i can help—" you hear his door handle click.

"no!" you shout from the back, "remember, we agreed! birthday boy relaxes and enjoys!"

he isn't happy about it, and you know he'll insist that he can only relax and enjoy if you're relaxed and enjoying, but you work quickly enough that he doesn't get to argue.

when you call him to the back, you've set up the entire space. the picnic mat is laid out, pillows placed comfortably in areas you both can cuddle in. a bunch of berries and crackers are laid out in a makeshift food section, along with a few bags of chips and the small chocolate cake you stayed up last night making. you serve water as your drinks because hajime prefers it that way.

the sight that greets him is more than anything he thinks he deserves, but what truly takes the cake is you, sitting on the palms of your feet with your baby hairs matted to your forehead and the sweetest smile reaching your cheeks. you hold up your phone to show a live youtube video of a setting sun in some place, somewhere in the world, and amidst the rain pattering against the roof of his car, hajime thinks he would rather have this over a real sunset, somewhere in the world, without you.

he crawls over to where you are, careful to avoid the food you set up. his cheeks hurt from smiling, eyes crinkling as he takes your cheeks in the palms of his hands, squishing them together before kissing you with all the love he can't put into words.

hajime doesn’t care much about his birthday.

but as he parks the car in reverse, positioning the trunk to view the city lights down below, he sees the twinkle in your eyes and can’t help but love how happy his birthday makes you.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

In your last post you said about Klaus getting turned on by watching the reader eat?

Could we have more on/about that in a separate one-shot if you have the time? 💕

One More Bite -Klaus M.

I combined this request with another one I had gotten in my PM’s for Klaus’ mate giving him a blowjob when he’s in his wolf form, so fair warning on that.

If that is something that the original requester isn’t okay with and you don’t want to read this, send me another request and I’ll write something else for you as I understand you may not want to read something like this because it’s for such a specific kind of reader I assume (even though I am one of those readers).

Warning: Severe Warning on this fic! This fic contains Smut while our favorite Hybrid is in his wolf form! Blow-Job warning! Klaus becoming aroused by watching his Mate eat food. Also brief mentions of a school shooting when talking about the Scream movie series.

Sitophilia: Arousal involving food

Don’t Like=Don’t Read

Dead Dove:Do Not Eat!

Klaus has no clue where it came from.

It started when he was in Alarics body in the lunch room, watching over his Doppelgänger and her friends was proving entertaining to him…until he saw her. Y/n was a friend of theirs that didn’t seem to be all that involved in their Supernatural affairs, blatantly ignoring them as they spoke about the immortal Hybrid that sat 2 tables away possessing their History teacher.

She was a beautiful girl, one of the sweetest the 1000 year old man had ever seen, he swore it was true with how kind and naive she seemed to be. Klaus felt the need to protect her and ensure her safety, swearing to himself he would leave her out of all of this but just as he was about to leave the lunchroom he found himself captivated by her once more. It took a bit too long to notice that he was staring at the girl as she ate her lunch.

Klaus had never really been fascinated by watching someone eat before and it was an odd thought all together, but he couldn’t deny his enjoyment at watching her…he also couldn’t deny the raging erection in his pants that he willed away as strongly as he could as he wasn’t in his pants or his body and he was Not dealing with that!

He had gone to the front office later that day, finding her file and reading as much about her as he could. Her name was Y/F/n, she was on the honor roll with mostly all A’s and a few B’s, he found her address as well as the fact that she is emancipated and living in that apartment alone. He looked more into that, finding out that her parents had died a few months prior (when Damon had released the tomb vampires) and she lived on money they left as well as what she made working in a movie theater in the next town.

He found himself hating the idea of his girl being forced to work a job on top of going to school and getting amazing grades, only to come home to an apartment all alone with no family and no real friends as that Scooby Gang doesn’t seem to be very close with her. Klaus can’t explain his feelings, his attraction, or why he wants to take care of her so badly but he knows he doesn’t want her working this hard so that she can be all alone and in pain.

Klaus ditched Alarics body as soon as he was able and while his witches were dealing with the things he needed for his curse, he made his way to the next town and into the little movie theater. He walked into the theater and up to the snack counter where she was sat, reading something on her phone before jumping up as she saw him.

‘Good afternoon sir, what can I get for you to make your movie experience better?’ She asked, a smile on her face as if anyone could enjoy this job everyday. He hated seeing the dark circles under her eyes that she tried to cover with makeup, he wanted to see her in a comfortable bed, sleeping as much as she needed, wanted to watch her enjoy breakfast in bed with the knowledge that she didn’t have to go to work or school or do anything other than be with him. He found himself staring down at her as he imagined feeding her that breakfast while his cock was still buried deep inside of her cu- ‘Sir?’

‘Sorry, lost in thought there.’ He chuckled and she did as well.

‘I do it all the time, no worries. Can I get you something to eat?’ He looked as if he was considering it before responding.

‘Actually, I would love to get you something to eat.’ She looked up at him confused and he thought it was adorable. ‘Would you like to see a movie with me?’ She was shocked by this, clearly, and didn’t respond very quickly. ‘What time do you get done?’ He asked as if he didn’t know it was in 5 minutes.

‘Oh, I’m done in about 5 minutes. I have to get home and study for a test though-‘

‘Aw, let yourself relax a bit. Let me treat you to a movie, you can get whatever you want to eat, and you can pick the movie.’ The blush that spread over her face was adorable and he loved every second of it.

‘Really? Even if I pick a chick flick?’ He nodded, seeing a coworker walking out to take over her shift. ‘Okay, I want to see 5 Nights at Freddy’s…let me go get changed.’ Her smile lit up Klaus’ whole world and he smiled as he watched her walk away, her cute little ass nearly on display in the short skirt she had to wear as a uniform. Klaus only waited about 5 minutes for her to return after getting the tickets (and experiencing the man’s shocked face as he bought all the tickets in the entire theater so that they would be alone), wearing a dark tank top and fluffy pajama pants. ‘Sorry about the clothes, I was prepared to go home and get in bed.’ She explained but he waved her off.

‘Not a problem, next time I’ll wear pajamas too. I’m Nik, by the way.’ He teased, seeing her eyes light up at the idea of a second date.

‘Y/n, nice to meet you Nik.’

‘Alright, what do you want to eat?’ This was a dine-in theater, and while Klaus remembered when theaters sold popcorn, soda and candy exclusively, he found himself happy about the idea of providing his girl a good meal and getting to watch her eat it.

‘Oh, I’ll just get a small popcorn-‘

‘You just got off work, you must be hungry. Please let me get you a meal? Anything you want, if you don’t choose I’ll choose for you and I’ll be forced to feed it to you.’ He teased, wrapping his arm around her waist to test the water of how she felt about him touching her and to his surprise she leaned into his side, allowing his hand to stay on her waist. She was attracted to him too, he could practically smell it, and it made the Hybrid truly happy to know that his girl at least liked him as well.

‘Fine, okay. Hey Kyle, can I get an order of cheese fries, please?’

‘And?’ She shot him a teasing glare before rolling her eyes.

‘And a large order of chicken tenders with extra honey mustard. And since we’re bending this guys wallet, I’ll also have a large chocolate brownie milkshake-with extra chocolate sauce…I hope you like chocolate cause I won’t drink all of that, it’s huge.’ Klaus just grinned as he handed over his card. ‘Wait! You’re not getting anything?’

‘A bucket of popcorn too, please?’ He ordered and she stared at him as he paid for the wildly overpriced food. He carried the popcorn, allowing her to drizzle butter all over it along with salt before they went and found their seats, a girl bringing Y/n’s food about 10 minutes later just as the movie started.

‘I can’t believe there’s no one else in here, especially this late.’

‘Is this a popular movie?’ He asked, genuinely having no idea what it’s about. Klaus hadn’t come here with any intention of watching a movie, he just wanted to be with his girl so to him, the movie didn’t make one single fucking difference.

‘Oh yeah, it’s based on a horror game that I loved, plus Matthew Lillard is in this so I want to see it desperately. People really believe that his character is just Stu from the Original Scream a few years after he “died”. Which he 100% didn’t by the way.’ He could see how sure she was of this and enjoyed her dedicated belief to a movie she clearly loved.

‘How are you so sure he lived?’ He wondered and she turned her body to him more, ready to explain her theory.

‘Okay, so he was supposed to be the killer in the third scream movie! He was cast and everything but they had to scrap the whole plot. It was going to be based on a school shooting but that was right as Columbine happened so they changed the whole movie. Respect for them not doing that, 100%, but it proves that canonically he is absolutely alive. I don’t really get the connection to this movie, but if people believe it then why not?’ He nodded along, enjoying himself as much she seemed to enjoy these horror plots.

‘You’re a horror movie girl, aren’t you?’

‘Yup. Which is weird cause I used to be terrified of all scary movies but now I love them. We should have a horror movie marathon, clearly you haven’t seen the Scream movies and if you haven’t seen them, what else haven’t you seen?!’

‘Most of them, I’m not much of a TV watcher. I mostly just paint in my free time, I’ve seen a few though. The one in the mask who tries to kill his sister.’

‘Michael Myers, Halloween.’ She said, instantly knowing what he was talking about.

‘The Hick who has a chainsaw and wears people’s faces?’

‘Leatherface, Texas Chainsaw Massacre.’

‘The demon people, one of them has pins all over his head?’

‘Pinhead, HellRaiser. Truly an amazing movie, probably one of my favorite plot lines.’ He was amazed at how she knew every one of these from just the simple descriptions, he knew they were probably popular but it was so cute how sure and excited she was.

‘And the guy with knives for hands.’ Her eyebrows raised as he said this.

‘I’m going to assume you mean Freddy Kruger from Nightmare on Elm Street as we’re talking about horror movies and not Edward Scissorhands which is a sad movie that ripped my soul from my body. It a great movie but it’s sad as hell. Why are people so mean to everyone just because they’re different?’ He shrugged at this.

‘People will always judge what they don’t understand, especially when it’s other people. It’s always been that way.’ He knew from personal experience and Y/n seemed to hear the emotion in his voice because she reached over and took his hand in hers.

‘People suck. Cheese fry?’ She offered, holding out the box and he took one, watching as she bit into a couple as the lights went down. He was thankful for his vampire vision as he leaned back into the seat and kept his eyes on her. She was fascinated by the movie but he was fascinated by her. Klaus watched as she ate, finally getting to watch her eat a meal that wasn’t a snack in a cafeteria. The idea that he had provided his girl food, a real meal (for seemingly the first time since he first saw her 3 days ago) was satisfying to say the least. He stared as she ate her fries, her tongue peeking out every now and again to lick the cheese from her lips, causing his cock to twitch every single time. The moan that came from her as she first bit into a piece of chicken had him fully hard and completely desperate, watching as her tongue licked the honey mustard from her finger, her lips wrapping around her thumb and sucking on it with a “pop” as she pulled it from her mouth. He was so lost in his thoughts as he watched her perfect little mouth, he didn’t even hear the words that came from it. ‘Nik? You okay?’

‘Hmm? Yes! Of course, I’m great…you’re so damn gorgeous, and it’s distracting.’ Her cheeks turned red as he said this and she couldn’t hide it from him.

‘You are really sweet…please tell me this isn’t some kind of weird joke.’ As she said this his mind was ripped from his fantasies, confused as to why she would think something like that.

‘What? That’s crazy, why would you-‘

‘You walked into a movie theater without a ticket, came up to the food counter and asked me out to then buy a ticket and buy me dinner. You’re either the oddest and luckiest man in the world considering I was finished my shift when you came in, or this was planned and someone put you up to it…I’m an 18 year old girl in high school on a date with a hot dude in his 20’s…you can at least imagine why I’m a bit skeptical?’ She looked sad and he hated that he had caused it…why is this girl getting to him like this?!

‘I’m sorry that you feel the need to be skeptical of someone asking you out. I admit, I planned to ask you on a date. I saw you yesterday and I thought you were lovely so I decided to ask you out, I thought taking you to a movie after work would be a nice idea, I also thought you would enjoy relaxing and watching a movie right after your shift-‘ A look of guilt overtook her eyes as she realized how much thought he put into asking her on this date and she felt horrible instantly.

‘Oh God…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m a bitch! I-‘

‘No you’re not, relax love. It’s okay, I can see why you were questioning the situation. I want to take you out again, I enjoy you already and I admittedly enjoy feeding you.’ Her eyes widened a bit but she couldn’t turn more red than she already was.

‘Oh…okay? I-I can honestly say I haven’t heard that one before but it sounds nice to me.’ She joked as he reached out, picking up a French fry and feeding it to her, grunting as she wrapped her lips around the tip of his thumb to get the melted cheese off of his skin, taking her time a bit too much as she did this and Klaus couldn’t hold in his groan.

‘Christ Y/n, you’re going to be the death of me.’

Through the rest of their date Klaus enjoyed feeding his girl nearly all of the food he had bought her, her insisting he at least have some as well and he brought her home that night, pressing his lips to hers sweetly and deciding he liked that his girl blushed 90% of their time together.

It was 3 days later that he found out why he was so desperate for this girl more than any other in his entire lifetime.

They had been texting almost all day every day along with him visiting her daily, Klaus getting everything ready to break his curse and actually getting it done with some help from his annoying elder brother (after he tried to murder him) before running off into the forest, his wolf determined to get where he needed to be.

It was the first time in 1000 years that Klaus could hear his wolf in his head the way other werewolves could. In the almost month he had been a Hybrid 1000 years ago he had gotten used to him being there and the curse had taken that from him.

As his paws slammed against the dirt, sprinting through the forest Klaus couldn’t help but wonder where they were going and he quickly got his answer.

“Mate!” The voice he had so sorely missed, growled roughly.

“Mate?” He wondered, having heard the term before but knowing that werewolves finding their mates was extremely rare. Maybe because they were so far out of time if Klaus’ mate being alive 1000 years after his human life was an indication. “Y/n is my mate…no wonder I’m so drawn to her!” A happy feeling was bubbling up in his chest as he realized he had finally found his mate, something he had hoped could exist for him since he found out soulmates were real for wolves.

“Need Mate! Need Mate Now!” The aggressive growl was almost concerning to him as his paws slowed to a trot when he arrived at the home he had been visiting his girl in for the last few days.

“She’s going to be scared! We can’t let her see us-Stop!” He snapped, feeling stupid that he was literally shouting at himself.

“Mate Knows! Mate Not Stupid!” His wolf snarled, sounding offended by the idea that she didn’t know who he was. He scratched at the apartment door and Klaus tried to control his body, to run back into the trees and away from her when the door swung open and his Mate looked down at him in shock.

‘I have to be honest, didn’t see this coming Nik. I mean I got the whole “Nik-Klaus” thing, Elijah told us all your real name but…what exactly do you want me to do with this?’ She asked, clearly entertained by him showing up in his wolf form. He whined, scratching at the doorframe which made her chuckle. ‘Okay, you can come in Niklaus-oh, okay.’ He walked into her apartment before she was even done speaking, hopping up onto the couch and staring up at her as if waiting for something to happen. ‘I seriously thought your interest in me was a joke when I realized who you were. Damon was making fun of me for falling for it…you’re actually into me, aren’t you? Cause I figure you being here right now means either you really like me or you plan to rip me to shreds in my own home. Which is it?’ She asked him and Klaus rolled his eyes, laying his head onto her lap when she sat down beside him on the couch. ‘Oh…good…I could get used to this.’

For the rest of the evening Klaus lounged on Y/n’s couch with her, watching horror movies from the extensive list that she had made of “Horror Movies Nik Needs to Watch”. He also enjoyed once again watching as she ate her dinner, or his personal favorite, watching her eat a pint of ice cream. God, he wants her tongue on his cock so badly, which she noticed as it was on display and larger than one would expect. To her credit, she ignored it for quite a long time, pretending it wasn’t there until the voice in his head made it physically impossible any longer. He was talking about all the different ways he wanted to bend her over and fuck her tight little cunt until she was begging him to stop, practically drooling over how her tongue peeked out and licked the ice cream off of the spoon, desperate to watch her lick his cream off of his hard cock which is around the time his member began leaking onto the blanket underneath him on the couch.

‘Nik?’ She questioned and he lifted his head from her lap to look up at her, as if pretending he hadn’t been staring at her this whole time. ‘Do you need help?’ He tilted his head as if asking her what she meant…she couldn’t possibly mean- ‘Do you need help with your…problem? It’s distracting and it seems to be getting worse.’

At this moment Klaus is happy that he is not just a vampire, but also in his wolf form and unable to show her how embarrassed he is with a look on (what would now be) his completely red face. He couldn’t stop the slight whine that escaped him before jumping down from the couch and trotting over to the door, scratching the wood and waiting for her to release him. “Let Mate Help!” That aggressive voice piped up again and he tried to shove it back down.

‘I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave, I…I mean if you wanted me to, I…it would have to be really fucking private, I mean if you ever told anyone I would skin you alive!’

Klaus suddenly felt his tail come to life, wagging around behind him like crazy as he released a small “yip” sound, moving back over and hopping up onto the couch again, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

‘Ahh! It’s cold and wet!’ She was giggling and it was a sound that Klaus knew he adored from the moment he first heard it in the schools cafeteria. ‘I hope you realize that when you’re human again, I want an explanation as to why watching me eat gets you so worked up.’ She teased, moving from the couch to her knees. ‘Are all wolves cocks this big, or is it a werewolf thing?’

“Perfect Mate! Pretty, Perfect Mate! Need to Fuck Mate!” Klaus shook his head quickly as that thought came from nowhere, trying to keep his wolf from controlling anything else when suddenly his cock was enveloped into her hot mouth causing the pathetic sounding whine that exited him.

Her lips were stretched wide around his thick member as he now leaned back against the couch, wanting desperately to hold onto her hair but knowing that he can’t. He settled for one paw resting on the back of her head and couldn’t hold back the growl that burst from his chest, her tongue trailing over the head of his cock which nearly made him finish laughably fast.

You could have never convinced Klaus that this would be something that he wanted, in 1000 years the thought had crossed his mind, of course, but it wasn’t something that really got him off until now. Now, rutting into his mate was all he could think about like it was playing on a constant loop in his mind. As he looked down and saw her on her knees in front of him a content purr built up in his chest. He didn’t know how deeply he had longed for his mate, maybe if his wolf hadn’t been bound from him, he would have.

His thoughts were cut off by the choking noise that came from her as his large cock hit the back of her throat. “Perfect Mate! Perfect Little Tongue!” The growl that exploded from him made her eyes widen in fear before he was cumming in ropes into her mouth, her hand coming up to catch what leaked from her lips.

‘Fuck!’ She cursed after swallowing everything he had to give and looking up at him, as if an innocent little virgin who hadn’t just sucked his wolf cock into next year. ‘Do all werewolves cum that much?’ She giggled and he whined in response, leaning forward and licking her face. ‘I’m not doing that again until you prove how good you are in bed as a man first.’ She was teasing him but he nipped at her throat, catching the skin and watching a drop of blood rise to the surface. ‘Ow…shouldn’t you be out slaughtering innocent humans right now?’ He shook his head, which he’s sure looked like a dog shaking off the water after being in the rain. ‘But that’s what you were going to do before finding me?’ He didn’t respond to this, simply moving to lay down across her lap as she sat back on the couch. ‘It’s okay, I’ll still be here when you’re human again, go.’ He peeked up at her, from this angle the light made her look like an Angel sent from Heaven, as if a gift just for his devilish soul.

“Stay Close! Never Leave Mate! Never Again!” He really hopes that once he fucks his mate and makes her his that his wolf will calm down about her, he may be right but he’s intense.

‘Go Nik, I’ll be right here when you get back, I promise. I have nothing to do tomorrow, I will stay until you come and get me. When you do we’ll order take out and you can stare at me while I eat it.’ He sat up, making a questioning noise that he honestly didn’t know he could make. ‘I Promise.’ She insisted, jumping up and opening the back door towards the woods. ‘I won’t leave, I won’t open the door for anyone either. Get, before you get needier and decide to hump me in my sleep.’ He did as she said, leaving out the back door and taking one final look at her before he was gone, running through the woods as he had always longed for, every day of his immortal life since it was snatched away from him and for the first time in his very long life, knowing that he had someone to come back to.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[on-leatheredwings]

Meeting the Family

based off this! but can be read alone.

Yandere! Fem! Reader / Yandere! Bruce Wayne

> romantic with bruce, platonic with the boys. the boys could be read as pre-yandere if you wish. > tw/cw: reader is a yandere, yandere-typical thought patterns, implied drugging, mention of self-harm, implied drugging > request: thoughts on co-conspirator!reader meeting the boys? > a/n: Hmmmm, i feel it’d be a meeting of interrogation where they see you’re clearly unstable !! > word count: 1.4k

You walk towards the threshold of a Wayne Manor sitting room. You have this hallway nearly memorized. You’ve viewed it through your 24/7 surveillance cameras and glanced upon it during your visits, but never has this hallway seemed so daunting until now. Luckily, your lover is nearby to reassure you. Bruce slips his hand into yours, and you inwardly swoon. You share a warm glance with him.

“They’ll adore you,” he says. You let a smile peek through your anxious expression. “I know I do.” At such sweet words, you feel your cheeks heat. Ugh, this man, you think affectionately.

Your Sunday best is the armor you don to meet Bruce’s children. It seems like you won’t even be able to meet them all – only the ones in town. “They just want to interrogate me,” you whine, letting yourself be pulled towards the impeccably decorated room.

“They just want to get to know you,” Bruce returns, humming. You can’t retort because already, you are in full view of his brood. The three of them look up from their phones and books. You swallow, under the scrutiny of two pairs of blue eyes and one pair of green.

“... Hi,” you say, waving a stupid hand. One smiles in return, thank goodness.

“I’ll just let you all get acquainted,” Bruce says, retreating. You swerve to him, blinking dumbly. That was not the agreement. The agreement was that Bruce moderate the discussion– and he’s gone.

He leaves the sitting room, and leaves you in the lion’s den to fend for yourself. And boy, do the lions pounce. 

The eldest, Dick – he’s positively godsent. He’s the first to shake your hand, immediately going into a friendly babble about how you’re all Bruce ever talks about and how he’s been excited to meet you. And thank God for that, because it manages to ease the tension you still have in your shoulders. He introduces himself and his brothers, melts the ice by teasing them as he does it. He offers you a seat across from them, offers you tea and cookies. He shares an anecdote of Bruce’s less polished moments to make you laugh. 

You soon realize he was a sleeper agent. He was merely buttering you up, lowering your defenses with well-placed platitudes and good-natured jokes.

It’s Tim who begins the true assault.

“So,” Tim begins over a cup of tea, looking upon you owlishly. “Isolation for 10 long years… How was that?” You blink, startled, before smiling weakly. At least no one was treating you like glass. Sometimes, that made you feel even more like a freak.

You try to give him a Sparknotes recollection, but it doesn’t satisfy him. At his badgering, you do relent more details. You are slipping your innermost thoughts without much of a fight, to your surprise. Dick’s empathetic gaze and Tim’s enraptured attention have you spilling dark thoughts it took you months to even tell Bruce… 

It was long. It was traumatic. Mind-altering. You have breakdown after breakdown. Self-harm after self-harm. There is a part of you you can never get back… So, 'how was it?' Why, just awful, thanks for asking!

Dick comforts you with “you’re so strong,” as Tim nods. He seems happy with his findings. It seems like you have piqued his academic interest – you can basically see the gears churning behind his mind, the factoids he’s storing for later. For what, you don’t know, but you’re glad to help. Throat dry, you down the rest of that blasted tea, but the boys aren’t quite finished.

Damian, however, is brutal in his questioning, sparing any of the pleasantries or dithering his brothers employed. He asks rapid fire about your past outside of your years in isolation. What was your childhood like? Your relationship with your parents? Did you ever graduate high school? College? What was your major? Do you like animals? His father houses two dogs, a cat, and a cow – you do know that don’t you? 

“What are your intentions with my father?” At that, you flinch.

“Nothing… nefarious, to be sure,” you say, sweat beginning to bead on your temple. It’s true! Aside from all the dastardly actions you wanted to inflict upon Bruce in the bedroom, nothing nefarious!

“And his other suitors? They don’t bother you?” 

At that, your smile wilts. Not from any offense… you simply don’t enjoy the reminder that others do seek Bruce’s affection. 

“They… don’t worry me,” you say succinctly. Dick doesn’t think you realize how your smile has grown sharp. Damian doesn’t let on whether he approves or disapproves of the answer. And Tim simply watches.

“And my father’s controlling and possessive tendencies? You’re fine with that? What would you do if you caught him in a lie? Or if a woman he was involved with confronted you?”

You gape like a fish. Man, what a character this one was. Damian blinks slow and catlike, before he sniffs. “I’m asking for one of the siblings who couldn’t be here today.”

“Um…” you return, discombobulated. You shoot off your answers as rapid-fire as he posed them. “I haven’t noticed any tendencies. And I can handle myself! If he lied… I’d hear him out. He probably had a good reason, of course.”

“What if it was infidelity?” 

You glare at them. “I’d get rid of her.” Why do they keep bringing up other women? 

At the boys’ silence, you realize your mistake. You wave your hands and bluster, “Not like– not like get rid of her– I would just tell her to… Leave. And I’d be… angry… at Bruce.” God, you don’t feel like you’re doing too well in this interview. You hiccup, filling your cup some more. What is in this tea? Man, it’s delicious.

“... Interesting.” 

“What if Bruce left you out of his own volition?” Tim points out, drawing your attention.

Your head snaps to him and you stare… That possibility had never even crossed your mind.

“He wouldn’t,” you say, confused. At raised eyebrows, you say, “I mean. I-I don’t think he would.” You have faith in Bruce. It’s been five months now, and your relationship has gone swimmingly. You had your insecurities… but Bruce had kissed all your worries away by now. Your fingers dig into the cushion of the couch. 

He wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t. He had already reassured you, and been so kind, and wonderful, and shown you what love was like– he couldn’t just leave you now–

“But what if he did?” and this time, the question comes from Dick, who, if you recall, hadn’t asked a single question yet. He looks serious, unlike his casual air from before.

You keep the desperation out your voice by keeping it chillingly level. “Then I’d convince him otherwise.” Good answer, good answer, you applaud yourself. All the boys nod, looking upon you with varying degrees of interest, curiosity, and understanding.

“Then… I suppose we have just one more question,” Tim says, plucking the kettle of tea out your hands. You pout.

“Thoughts on having children?”

At the question, your brows shoot into your hairline.

“... Are there not enough of you already?” you blurt.

To your relief, they all relax.

-

After that strange encounter, Bruce shows himself and sees you out. The walk outside is quiet. Comfortably quiet on your end. You hope you did good… no, you reassure yourself. Fuck it, you did great.

“So… how were they?” 

You glance at his face, and are surprised to see thinly veiled concern behind his smile. “Did any of them say anything… strange? And… did you like them?” You laugh, before floating up to kiss Bruce between the brows. Flight powers came in handy for stuff like that.

“They were wonderful,” you say cheekily. “Something they clearly get from their father.”

-

bonus!

Bruce re-enters the foyer. He shoots off a text, lamenting. If you hadn’t had him bug his own home, he could’ve spoken to the boys freely. He could’ve had Jason hide nearby, instead of having to listen in on Damian’s phone.

Bruce: Did that satisfy your curiosities?

Several ellipses in bubbles pop up, before his phone rattles with their responses.

Damian: Frankly, she comes off as airheaded and naive, but at least she seems to have some semblance of spine.

Jason: She’s crazy. Didn’t we tell you to stop sticking your dick in crazy

Dick: Well, I think that makes you guys a perfect match!

Tim: bruce i’m sorry, you cannot fix her. however, i would like to study her. and possibly, make her worse

Bruce sighs, albeit smiling. By all accounts, you seem have gotten their general approval.

[fairyysoup]

it will come back

part 3

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie’s version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: It's May Day, so naturally you'd have a hedonistic time. Except there's nothing natural about any of it.

cw: smut, consensual noncon is negotiated, primal play, literally i cannot stress how consensual it is, public sex (no one gets caught), knotting, biting, marking, possessiveness, reader is bitten by a werewolf, marriage proposal of sorts, dark themes, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, minor character death, blood, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter

a/n: hiiiiiiii :) do I like this? no, but I've been working on it for half a year and if I don't publish it now I don't think I ever will, so pls enjoy it and if you don't shhhhh don't tell me ok love you bye

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The bouquet of flowers on your doorstep is beautiful, and not lacking in symbolism. Purple lilacs, for the first emotions of love. Bluebells, for consistency and everlasting love. Red roses, for true love.

In the center is one singular, bright yellow marigold. You figure you know who left them.

You’re stunned by them when you first open the door. Your hairline, already covered by your flowers from last night, prickles with sweat. You had hoped for something, some kind of affection or gesture this year, as you do every year, but you hadn’t imagined it would actually… happen. You’d hoped a bit like a child hopes for rain on a clear day. It’s possible, but it would take a lot, in the grand scheme of things. 

You turn it over in your hands, your heartbeat thudding in your chest. You’re not sure what to think. You don’t know how Eddie would have known that this particular shack, in all of your Master’s sprawling estate, was yours. You don’t know what he means by this gesture. Is it an apology for turning you away last night? For embarrassing you? Is it a promise of some kind, that he intends to do something tonight? Is it a real declaration of love, or is it something else entirely? 

You sniff, getting a waft of fragrant lilac when you do, and turn to place it inside. There’s nothing to be done with it now, aside from finding a vase for it. You don’t know where Eddie lays his head at night. You don’t know where he is now, or where he’ll be later. You have to trust that he’ll find you. 

I’ll always come back to you. That’s what he said, before you walked away last night. You have to believe him, because otherwise you have nothing else.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” snaps a stern voice when you jauntily march out the door of your shack. Your Mistress stands with a sour look on her face, eyeing your day dress, free of an apron.

“To the town square, ma’am,” you tell her honestly, your head bowed. “For the… festival.” 

“Just because it’s May Day does not mean you are exempt from your daily chores,” your Mistress reminds you, shoving a pitchfork in your hand and ordering you to go bale the hay. 

You do as you’re told; you always do. You also know that you’ll probably be baling the hay until nightfall, when the festivities are sure to be picking up. 

It gives you time to think. You don’t know what you’d do if you ran into Eddie at the bonfire tonight. Or, maybe you do… you have some ideas about what you’d like to do, anyways. But you can’t speak for what he wants. 

He told you not to go near the woods, which he also said is where he lives. If he wanted to take you somewhere… wouldn’t it be to his own home? If so, has he already given you his answer, that he doesn’t want you in the way that you want him? It’s hard to believe, based on everything he’s done up to this point. 

Well after noon, and several hay bales later, you’re sure the maypole in the center of town has been decorated by now. You’re sure that the town square has been covered with flowers, and you’re sure that Victoria and Hyacinth and the rest of the maidens in the town have determined which eligible bachelor they want to celebrate with tonight. 

A flame of jealousy sparks in your gut. You hope that none of them have set their sights on Eddie. The mere thought of it is enough to make you see red. 

As the sun sets on the horizon, shining golden light in through the open doors of the barn, you’re sure that people have noticed your absence from the festivities. It’s common knowledge around town that your Master is crueler than most. Less lenient, more forceful. You’ve heard whispers behind your back, and you pay them no heed, usually. That the Master intends to take you for a wife after your Mistress dies, whenever that may be. That he keeps you close for his own twisted purposes. And, you suppose, there’s merit to those rumors.

You’re not unaware of the way the Master sets his eyes on you sometimes. He isn’t good at hiding it, you should say. Not that he really tries; on more than one occasion, you’ve incurred the Mistress’s wrath simply because the Master stared at your chest for a little too long. Yes, you could say that the Master is attracted to you, in some way. And, once, you might have counted yourself lucky.

If he wasn’t attracted to you, he could be crueler. And you could do worse than to catch the eye of a powerful, wealthy landowner. If he married you, you would be financially secure, and you would never have to seek a place to live. You would never worry about being labeled a whore or being thrown out on the street. At one point, you’d accepted that this was the best case scenario for you.

But something has changed your perspective, recently. Something that has dark eyes and a mischievous smile and rings on his fingers. Fingers that, you know, are very skilled.

And what if… What if you were to marry Eddie? As you had imagined in the field last night, your mind wanders to the idea of being Eddie’s wife. Tending to his house, you imagine, a stone cottage in the woods. To lie in bed with him on a rainy night, warm against his burning chest. Being able to gaze into those sparkling eyes as often as you like, being able to wake up to him. 

For the first time since you were a young girl, you really consider the possibility of being… happy. Your happiness. The idea of a happy future is something that has been such a foreign concept for so long, it almost makes you uncomfortable to dream about it. 

When you were little, you’d dream about being a beautiful princess in a tower, saved by a knight in shining armor, who also happened to be a prince. These dreams went away once your family sold you into indentured servitude; princesses don’t work. Princesses aren’t covered in shit and filth on festival days, baling hay in a cow pasture. Princesses would be dancing the maypole and crowned the may queen–

“And I crowned her my sweet queen of May.”

–Princesses would be showered with flowers and gifts–

Bluebells for consistency and everlasting love.

–Princesses are whisked away in the night from their troubles and marry princes. 

I am not a princess.

You throw your pitchfork down beside the last bale of hay. The sun has set, finally, and the moon is already high in the sky. The bonfires in the town square will be burning down. If Eddie was there, he’s sure to have found someone else by now. 

Your cheeks, dusted with dirt, feel crusty and filthy when you cry. You are no princess, despite the crown of flowers on your head. Eddie isn’t going to save you. And really, what would it say for your honor if he did? Can you not defend yourself? Are you so helpless that you need a strange man from the woods to save you from your life?

Marching out of the barn, you feel hungry, and tired, and you figure that you would probably be best suited to go to bed. But there will be food and drink at the festival, even if it’s late. There could still be time to meet someone, anyway.

“And where do you think you’re going?” It’s a deep and gruff voice that asks this time, and you’re about sick and tired of hearing that same question. But your irritation is easily replaced by dread, when you turn to find your Master standing by the entrance to the barn you just stormed out of.

“The bonfire,” you reply, with less heat than intended. “It’s May Day, and I’ve done my chores.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” your Master says. 

He’s not a tall man, but what he lacks in stature he makes up for in intimidation. He has cold blue eyes and a sneer that could freeze a King in his place. You know what it’s like when he’s on the other side of a cane, and you don’t relish the idea of a beating just because you wanted to go to a festival. When the Master steps up to you, he smells like liquor, so strong it stings your sinuses.

“You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to?” He growls at you, a nasty sounding thing in the back of his throat. You flinch. “That girl from the Werther’s house– Victoria, is it? She told me all about you and some… some boy in the woods. The one they call the Beast in town. Is that what you’re doing now? Dallying with any boy who comes around? Even ones from the woods?” 

Your cheeks burn hot, and you step back just as he steps forward, looming over you in his drunken state. “No, I… I don’t dally–” 

“Not from what she says,” he snaps back, and you briefly consider wringing Victoria by her stupid neck. And then you think, Hyacinth would have never betrayed me. “Running around in your night clothes, fooling around with some woodland freak. I ought to whip you where you stand.” 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as he backs you into a corner. The fence for the pig pen meets the edge of the barn where you end up, your back hitting the barn door and earning a loud creak from the hinges. 

Your Master reaches for you with a snarl. Instinctively you curl into a ball, your arms coming up to protect your face and neck. Your instincts don’t take into consideration that he doesn’t have a cane in his hand, and he’s too drunk to throw a good punch. You cry out when his hand clamps tightly around your wrist, and he yanks you toward the barn. 

“What are you doing?” is your undignified shriek when he throws you into the barn, and you fall into the pile of hay bales you just stacked.

“You’ll sleep with the cows tonight,” the Master growls, and spits a glob of phlegm at your feet. “It’s what you are.” 

“No, please–” you rush forward just as the barn doors slam shut in front of your face, locking you in darkness with the stench of manure and dirt. The cows are down at the other end of the barn; you hear them jostling unhappily in their restraints as you bang on the door with the flat of your hand. 

You finally let yourself cry. You’re filthy. Covered in sweat and grime, mud all over your skirt from working all day, the crown of flowers on your head wilting. You don’t know what you expected. You’re not Cinderella; you don’t have a fairy godmother, and you don’t have anyone coming to save you and let you go to the ball. This isn’t a fairytale. The stories you were told when you were a child were just that.

Even as you continue to bang on the door, you’re already starting to accept it. You won’t be getting out of here anytime soon. They’ll let you out of the barn in the morning, sure, but you’re not going to leave this farm, or your Master, or this life of servitude until you’re dead, or otherwise ripped from your mortal life. 

Then there’s a scuffling. On the other side of the door, you hear your Master shout once, shortly, before it’s muffled and frantic. Footfalls in the dirt. A growling, snarling. Yelping. And then something bangs on the barn door, making it jostle so hard you scream and jump back. 

Your Master, just on the other side of the door, like he’s been thrown against it, screams loudly. Something snarls, and then there’s a wet squelch, like the sound of something alive being torn open. A chicken being gutted. You stand away from the door, your eyes bulging in the darkness, your hands clamped over your mouth to quiet your frantic breathing. 

Something just killed your Master. The fact sinks like a stone in your stomach. He’s no longer shouting. There’s no movement, nothing to indicate that there’s anything alive on the other side of the door anymore. Only dead silence. 

And then another scuffle. A heavy thud, like something being thrown aside. And then something, or someone, is unlocking the door.

In the darkness, you panic. You back away quickly, your hands searching, feeling for anything that you can grab to defend yourself with. You find nothing, but collapse into the stack of hay bales just as the doors swing open, and you come face to face with your Master’s killer. 

“Eddie?” 

It’s him, all right. He stands with his arms outstretched to either side, holding the barn doors open with the light of the full moon shining in behind him. You don’t know how it’s happening, but his eyes reflect the moonlight with a bright red hue to compliment the red blood that’s all over him. 

It drips down his face, his neck, his chest. It’s on his hands. When he smiles at you, it’s in his teeth.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel like your heart could leap out of your chest with how hard it pounds in its cage. He tilts his head, seeing your tear streaked face, the way you cower against the bales of hay in your muddy dress. “Rough day?”

“You– you–” and your brain has stopped working. You know what you’re looking at; Eddie killed your Master. Eddie is covered in his blood. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, is a killer, a murderer, looming over you with a smile that could scare ghosts back into their graves. 

“Yeah, me.” He takes a step forward. You scream and jump back, putting a bale of hay between you and the man covered in blood at the door. Eddie puts his hands up in defense. “I’m not going to hurt you, princess–”

“Stop calling me that.” You grab your pitchfork off the ground, and hold it up at him. “You killed my Master. I don’t even know how you did it– but do you know what that means?” You thrust the pitchfork at him. He jumps back. “Do you?”

Eddie blinks. “It means… you’re free?” 

“It means I get passed off to his next of kin,” you snarl at him. “Like a fucking cow. That’s all I am to them. I’m cattle. And the next person who gets me may decide to slaughter me. Do you understand?” You jab the pitchfork at him again, and he backs away into the moonlight. “Why would you do that to me?” 

“Because he hurt you!” Eddie retorts, flailing his outstretched hands, exasperated. “Because he locked you in a barn! I could– I could smell the rage on him. He wasn’t going to leave you here, he was going to do something worse. Just give it another drink, he would have been back out here. And I wasn’t going to let it happen. I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch it anymore.” He drops his arms with a sigh, and his hands smack loudly against his thighs. “You’ve helped me twice. Let me at least return the favor.” 

“I helped you once,” you snap.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, sweet pea. Twice. You just didn’t know it.” 

He raises his right hand, his bloody fist tight. He shakes his arm until his sleeve falls, and exposes the light pink scrap of fabric tied around it– the one you swore was yours. The one you swore you tied around the leg of the wolf you nursed last month. 

“You–” the pitchfork in your hand lowers. You think you’re halfway to crazy. Or, maybe you’re already there. “You’re the wolf.” 

Eddie nods. “I am.”

“You’re a… a wolf-man?” You’re shaking your head, but even so, the entire thing makes sense. It’s why you’ve been so suspicious, why something seemed so off about him. Why his smile is always so sharp. Why you always feel a little bit like a frightened animal around him, in spite of it all.

“I am,” Eddie repeats, and he turns to look over his shoulder.

You shake your head. “I don’t believe in that. I don’t believe in fairytales.”

“Doesn’t matter what you believe in, sweetheart.” He spits something out of his mouth, grimacing as he licks his teeth. “The moon will peak at midnight, and then I change. I need to be far away when that happens.” He looks at you, his eyes pleading. “Come with me.” 

As incredulous as you are, as slowly as you’re coming to terms with what’s been in front of you the whole time, you still drop your pitchfork to the ground. “Where?” 

“To the woods,” Eddie shrugs, his smile disarmingly sweet beneath all the blood. “Maybe I can be your new Master, hm?” 

“Fuck you, Munson.”

“That’s the name of the game.”

“You’re a goddamn demon. I shouldn’t have trusted you– I shouldn’t have talked to you.” 

Eddie crosses his arms. “Listen. I think God’s got a sick sense of humor; otherwise, I wouldn’t be what I am, and you’d be a lady in a castle far away from any of this. So why don’t we make the best of a bad situation, hm?”

You narrow your eyes at him. You can feel yourself doing something stupid even before you say it. “I’m… listening.”

“Great!” He claps his hands and launches into a spiel that leaves you wondering if he’d spent the entire time since last night concocting it. “I’m gonna turn into a rabid beast in, oh, I dunno, maybe two hours. Give or take. But if you want to stay in my home, safe, where wolf-me can’t work a latch, I’ll be back in the morning. And then we can get married and fuck and have lots of babies and be that old couple who lives in the woods. Or something. Really, I haven’t thought that far. Maybe just stay the night? Or forever. I’m not picky.”

You’re frowning when he turns to you with a half-crazed grin. “That’s the worst proposal I’ve ever heard.”

Eddie gestures to himself. “Not exactly a poet.”

“So, what are you, then?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “No riddles this time. Tell me, honestly. What are you?”

Eddie sighs. He tilts his head to the ceiling, kicks the ground with the heel of his boot, and then he says, “I’m a monster. I’m a man. I’m a woodworker and I’m a charlatan. I cheat, I lie. I turn into a wolf and I kill men because they’d do the same to me. I can’t help it, comes with the territory. I have a family of other wolves who look after me and I look after them, and you’ll meet them if you want. But…” He peers at you for a moment, and then averts his gaze, “But really, I’m yours. I’m in love with you. I have been since you helped me that time Thatch shot me, and I’ll be yours even if you run to town and turn me in, and I’ll be yours if they hunt me down and throw me on a pyre. That’s all I am, really.”

You can barely find it in you to breathe. You’re still shaky on your feet and you don’t think you’re quite in your right mind, but you find yourself thinking about the last night, about his hands and his lips on you, about how it was so easy for you to get lost in him. How you spent all night and all day thinking about him, wanting him, wishing for precisely this. 

Just not with the caveat of fur and four legs. 

“You’re looking at me funny,” he muses, his eyes flaring. His smile is wider than it should be. His teeth are more pointed than they should be. 

“I’m not looking at you any sort of way.”

He laughs. It runs clear down your spine and shudders through your limbs. You have to swallow past the dryness in your throat. 

“Always so proud– you know you don’t have to stand on ceremony anymore, right?” He tilts his head at you. “There’s no one around to judge you here, princess. Least of all me.”

 “I’m not standing on ceremony,” you press, but you feel like an indignant child the more you argue with him. “If I was, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be trying to get out of here.”

“You want to leave?” Eddie asks, his voice clear and frank. He points over his shoulder. “Don’t let me stand in your way.”

He holds his hands out at his sides, palms up. His fingernails are long and sharp– like he’s slowly transforming into a monster, right in front of you. He stands aside, and there’s a clear path between you and the door. 

You could leave. You could run. You could find a place to run and hide, disappear by morning. 

But you don’t. You don’t want to leave. Not him. Not yet. 

His eyes are different now as they peer at you. They seem iridescent, glinting in the darkness. He sizes you up and down, and you feel more and more like prey. You… should be scared.

“Am I to take that as a no?” Eddie asks after a lengthy pause. 

You don’t exactly have anything to say in your defense. If he was wrong, you would already have tried to bolt. 

“Will you chase me?” You watch his eyebrows shoot up when you ask the question. You wet your lower lip with your tongue, an inch away from gnawing on it. “If I run, will you come after me?”

“Do you want me to chase you?” 

Your breath sticks in your throat. It would be so easy to just say yes. Yes, I want to be chased by you. I want to be pursued and I want you to make me yours in every way possible. But the words won’t come. They can’t come, as if it would soil you just to say them. It would be admitting defeat.

“I don’t want to be given a choice.” 

Eddie shakes his head, his frown of confusion deepening. “You always have a choice with me.”

“Eddie,” you say slowly, inclining your head. “I don’t. Want. A choice.” You stare at him heavily, willing him to gather your meaning without having to say it. I want you to force me.

You watch as the fire of recognition ignites in his eyes, and he opens his mouth with a noise of understanding. Ah. Yes. This is your choice. He smirks at you, then looks down at his foot as he digs his heel idly into the dirt. 

“I’ll count to three,” Eddie mutters without looking up at you. Still, you can see the ghost of a playful smile on his face. “One-”

You take off like a shot. You don’t have time to hear him continue counting. You’ll probably make it to the pasture before he catches up with you, unless he’s stronger than a normal man. If the bloodied carcass of your Master is anything to go by, though, you imagine that he is. 

You don’t make it to the pasture. You don’t even get close. You come to the doorstep of your pathetic little shed, your feet slamming the dirt, kicking up dust all the way, the air in your lungs burning with the labor of your breath, when your back is hit by something solid and unforgiving. Your legs are ripped out from beneath you, and you topple to the ground in front of your door with a thud.

“How fitting,” Eddie’s voice says in your ear, deep and husky, while his hand cups your chin, yanking your head up from the dirt. “Right where we met, isn’t it?”

He crowds you, half-laying on top of you, his weight pressing into your back and his hips meeting yours from behind. You gasp at the feeling of sharp claws pricking your cheeks where he holds your jaw in his hand, while the other creeps beneath your skirt and along your thigh.

“I never got to finish what I started last night,” Eddie purrs, his voice resonating in his chest. It’s enough to make you shiver, while goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I never like to leave a lady wanting.”

He scrapes his nails along your inner thigh, coaxing your legs apart. You jerk a little in his grip and whine when his claws dig in. Your face burns, your skin feeling like it’s on fire. It would be so easy for someone to find you here, flat on your stomach with a monster at your back. 

A whimper escapes your lips when his finger circles your clit, just like he did the night before. You shouldn’t want him, especially not like this, but it’s almost as if everything about Eddie begs you to go against your own nature. It began when you invited a wild animal into your home. It doesn’t seem like it will ever end. Nor will your want for him. 

“Eddie,” you sigh out shakily, and he shushes you while his finger plays through your wetness. He touches you like he knows exactly how to set you on edge. He’s cruel with his gentility, even while you want him to tear you apart. 

You arch against him, driving your ass back against his hips. You feel his cock press against you through the layers of fabric still separating you, and it makes you want to whine in frustration like a spoiled brat. It’s not enough to have him here, pinning you, touching you. You need him everywhere. You need him to consume you entirely. 

Gasping, you open your mouth to say something else– urge him or taunt him, you’re not sure which– but his hand clamps down over your mouth before you can manage it. 

“I told you to be quiet,” he growls, grinding his hips down into yours harder. “I’ve already been shot once, I don’t need it to happen again because you can’t keep it down.”

Eddie flips your skirts up over your hips, and your bare skin meets the cool air. There’s a moment of heavy anticipation, of Eddie’s harsh breathing against your ear, of the scrape of his trousers against your thighs. And then there’s the press of his cock against your entrance, and you tense. 

“Do you believe in me now?” Eddie whispers in your ear. His voice has taken on a ragged tone, like he can hardly contain the animal lingering beneath his surface. His fingers have just started to tremble against your cheeks– just enough to let you know that he, damn him, is holding himself back. 

Your eyelashes flutter. You have a mind to grind against him, to spur him on. “I have to, don’t I?”

He chuckles, and the sound raises goosebumps on your skin. Your heart pounds in your chest, and Eddie takes a long, slow inhale. “Your heart’s beating so fast, princess. Something on your mind?”

“Fuck you,” you seethe. 

“As you wish.”

He grabs your hips and pushes in deep. You cry out, digging your fingers into the dirt to steady yourself, scrabbling for a sense of stability. Eddie holds you close by the throat, pulling out and pushing back in with the same brutal force. 

The sounds coming from your mouth can’t be real, can’t be you. You aren’t proud of yourself, but you can’t stop while he’s being relentless, fucking into you hard and fast. 

Eddie groans low in your ear, his hand around your throat slipping down. His claws wrap around your neckline and he tears through the fabric, ripping the layers of clothing to expose your shoulder to him. You feel the whisper of his sharp teeth along your skin, tickling at your pulse point, and it’s all you can do not to cum right then. 

Your eyes roll, your back arching against him. “Eddie, I–”

“Don’t be afraid,” Eddie tells you. His words vibrate on your skin. “I won’t bite.”

You reach back, and your hand finds his hair, thick and curly between your fingers. “I want you to,” you pant, while your orgasm mounts, pleasure gathering between your legs with every move that he makes. You moan, your breath catching in your throat. “Please, Eddie–”

His nose pressed to your shoulder, Eddie shakes his head. You can’t see the way that his pupils dilate, his limbs shaking with the effort of holding back. 

Instead, his hand slips between your legs again, and when he circles your clit with his gentle touch and his sharp claw, you cum with a silent scream of relief. 

He keeps going, hard and fast as you ride out your orgasm. And finally, Eddie lets out an animalistic growl loud enough to shake the earth, and he spills inside you. 

Your legs threaten to buckle out from under you, but Eddie catches you at the last second just before you both slump to the damp ground. Gasping for breath and still coming down from your high, you barely have the energy to object when your clouded mind registers the swell of a knot keeping him inside you. 

Eddie wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, until you fit against him like the missing piece of a puzzle. The full moon overhead douses the pastures with silver light. Far off in the tall grass, crickets sing. 

“You didn’t bite,” you croak, your voice sounding distant and hazy. He shifts, and it makes you squeak when it moves the knot inside you. 

“Didn’t want to do it to you if you didn’t mean it,” he murmurs. His breath is hot on the back of your neck, and you find yourself wishing that you could turn and look at him in the moonlight. 

“I meant it,” you tell him earnestly, running your hand along his arm. “I want… I want it. Make me yours, Eddie.”

He makes a weak noise in his throat, his arms tightening around you even further. “Don’t say that unless you want me forever.”

You laugh. It surprises you, but you can’t help it. “I don’t think I could let you go even if I wanted to, baby.”

He stills for a moment, like he’s trying to process what you’re telling him. “So… so you’ll come with me?”

You sigh, with a gentle smile curling at your lips. You consider the dreams you’ve had, of running away with him, of living with him, of having him whisk you away like a knight in shining armor. Even if he isn’t a knight, it is what you’ve been wishing for, isn’t it?

“Yes,” you tell him softly. “I’ll come with you. Just make me yours.”

When he pulls your hair away from your neck, Eddie’s touch is so tender that it could make you cry. His lips touch your skin, and your eyes flutter shut in anticipation of the sting of his teeth. 

“I’ll always be yours,” he tells you again, this time so quiet that it sounds like a prayer for you alone to hear. “Always.”

And when Eddie sinks his teeth in, the world goes black.

You wake with your head on a pillow of soft cotton and your back on a mattress filled with hay.

Wherever you are, there isn’t much light in the room. There’s an open window somewhere over your head; you hear birds outside. The forest sings in the morning. 

The cabin you’re in is much like your own, except it affords more room to move around. The floor has a decadent rug thrown across it, something that you wouldn’t expect a cabin like this to have in its inventory. It isn’t much bigger than your own shack. You old shack, now, you suppose. 

The more you look around, the more things seem… eclectic, to say the least. The bed is simple wood, but the blankets and linens are fine, like something an aristocrat would use. The ring dish on the window sill is an abalone seashell, shining iridescent purple and blue in the morning light to reflect the rubies and sapphires on the rings inside of it. The humble dining table is worn and covered in knicks and scratches, but the silverware is finer than any you’ve ever seen. 

When you finally pull yourself out of the bed and take a look around, you see Eddie’s burgundy blouse tossed across a rocking chair in the corner by the hearth. So, you conclude, this is Eddie’s domain. His home. The cabin in the woods you’d been dreaming of. 

And with a bit more snooping, you conclude something else. Eddie Munson is a goddamned thief. 

He has pocket watches engraved with names of nobility from all around the country. The platter on the table is monogrammed H.R. Cheshire. Eddie’s wardrobe has a large amount of men’s and women’s clothing piled in it, and all of it is fine silk, taffeta and lace– not something a simple woodworker living in the woods would be able to afford. 

You stumble to the door almost like you’re drunk, and when the door bangs open on its hinges, it’s Eddie who startles backwards in the bushes this time. He yelps, and you see just enough of him to catch him losing his balance and toppling ass-over-head over a log past the treeline. 

“For god’s sake, Eddie,” you chastise him. 

“Wasn’t expecting that,” he retorts, his head popping up over the top of the bush. He’s cleaned himself up, at least, so his face isn’t covered in blood anymore. He still looks so beautiful, though, and you still feel your heart skip a beat to look at him.

“You– you’ve stolen half of everything in here.” You gesture vaguely over your shoulder at the cabin. Your shoulder aches and stings when you move it, leading you to believe that everything that happened in the night was not a dream. It was real. 

Everything you’ve thought didn’t exist is real. 

Eddie is just a flicker of a shadow through the trees as he rounds one and steps into full view. “Had to make a living, somehow.” 

“And yet you walk around in the woods naked?”

He holds his hands out at his sides. “Um. Didn’t have time to get changed after I brought you here. It's kinda… it’s hard to hold it off when it happens.”

“When you turn into a wolf, you mean?”

“Yes.” 

You nod slowly, trying to only look at his face. It’s inordinately difficult. “Am I going to turn into a wolf?”

“Eventually.” Eddie tilts his head and looks at you warily. “Did you… not want it after all?”

“No, I–” you pause. It’s hard to put into words what you’re feeling, but you know it’s not regret. Your voice wobbles when you finally say, “I think it’ll just take some time to get used to it. Things have been the same for so long, and now…”

“Hey,” Eddie says, sounding almost the same as you had when he showed up the first time, crying at your door. He holds out his hand, his palm facing upward. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? Let me help.”

You look at him through misty eyes, and you almost laugh at how blatantly your roles have reversed, now. You, standing at his door, crying. Him, trying to be of service to you. 

You give him a meager smile, placing your hand in his. “Can I stay?”

“Stay forever,” Eddie tells you, looking up at you with kind eyes. “But I can’t promise I’ll be polite for all of it.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m in love with you,” you admit, and watch as he absorbs your words slowly, almost as if he never imagined he’d hear you say it. 

And when he kisses you this time, you don’t even mind the sharpness of his teeth.

[morose-melodies]

partners in crime | yandere! capitano x f!reader

summary: the captain would kill for you and... he did!! now he's a wanted man by all of snezhnaya but at least he's with you

content warning: a lot of mentions of kill, and vague mentions of injuries. the captain being extremely extremely devoted to you

the captain was a bad man and officially a wanted man.

there was not an ounce of regret in him, how could he regret anything when he had done everything for you?

he would die doing anything you pleased, for you were who he loved. though, love was not a strong enough word to describe how he felt for you.

he craved you, he cherished you, he revered you. the captain worshiped you - everything you did, everything you said, he could not hate you. he would never betray you.

whatever happened, he was content knowing he was doing it all for the likes of you.

it had been nearly a week since he became a wanted man. he had killed a high-ranking fatuus just as you asked him to and that started the hunt for him.

no longer was he the honorable, ever-righteous captain; no, he was something damnable, something to be feared, someone you would hate to come across.

but to you, he was a knight in shining armor. he was all you ever wanted and likewise, having your love was all the captain needed.

he anxiously awaited his next meeting with you. the last time he had seen you was three nights ago, it was dark, and he regrets not hugging you before sending you off.

though, he doubted you would have taken kindly to him hugging you.

you weren't a kind lady, likewise, you were evil.

you could be so sweet and yet also so cruel. looks truly were deceiving; that's how he fell for your trap in the first place.

you appeared as a weak damsel in need of saving and he indulged - saving you and bringing you back to his manor where he would give you a place to sleep and recover.

it didn't take long for you to reveal who you truly were - you were an evil lady out for vengeance and the captain could be of much help for you.

you convinced him that you desperately needed him and that without him, you'd never reach your goals.

the captain wanted to help you. you were so soft-spoken, so small; you needed him, so he decided he would help you.

...

"where will you stay, captain?" inside your small cabin, you had invited the captain in and made sure he was comfortable - though, he refused anything you offered him, such as food or water.

"as long as you're safe, I'll figure it out. are you sure you'll be safe here? what of the stubborn monsters that keep coming back?" you were his first priority- before his safety, was yours.

"I'll be fine," you sighed, looking out the window of the cabin at the desolate woods that surrounded it, "i asked where you would stay."

"I said I'd figure it out," the captain replied, clasping his hands together as he looked at your back, "I'm in no rush to hide."

"I don't want you to get caught... or die," you confessed, turning to face him and you looked sad.

the captain felt the need to assure you, to tell you he would never die; he wanted to say he'd live for as long as you asked him to, but that wasn't true.

he wasn't sure of what would happen.

so, he stood and approached you, his large boots creaking upon the old wooden floor. he took your hand into his and could only say, "I won't."

he had made a promise now. he had to keep it. the captain would live, he would live for you, and no matter the circumstances, he would come out alive and find his way back to you.

he would always find his way back to you.

...

the captain stood out like a sore thumb, he knew that.

it was thoughtless of him to think he wouldn't gain attention if he went into town not wearing armor, but it was an act of desperation; an act of desperation for you.

you were running low on food supplies and it was his fault. when you asked him to stay, he should have refused; when you offered him food, he should have refused; when you offered him water, he should have refused.

but, he didn't.

so, he wanted to right his wrongs for you. you got angry when he explained his plan to you. you screamed, cried, and begged for him to stay, genuinely fearing for his life.

you tried to hold him down, you tried to keep him from leaving but his will was too strong- he still left. he promised you he'd live, so he would.

and, he did.

with blood dripping from his sword.

and with a few scratches, a minor limp, and perhaps a few small puncture wounds; he had gotten more than enough food for you, and that's all that matters, wasn't it?

when he arrived back at your cabin, you were sitting on the porch, waiting for him. the expression on your face when you saw him and the state he was in broke his heart.

"I'm alright, (y/n), i am okay, the injuries are minor," he tried his best to assure you, but, perhaps it was his limp that scared you the most.

you helped him into the cabin immediately, taking the food and setting it in the kitchen. as you demanded, the captain sat on the couch and awaited your assistance.

you came back with a sewing kit and bandages, "you should have worn your armor... you should have known they were going to attack you..." it felt good, though, to be so wanted by someone. to have someone kill for you was... exhilarating.

"... thank you," you mumbled, as you began removing pieces of his clothing and patching up the puncture wounds on him first as they were actively bleeding badly.

the captain released a deep breath and felt nothing but absolute relief. he'd do anything to please you and killing always seemed to please you.

...

monsters were surrounding your cabin.

you had been sleeping peacefully until you heard a long, hard scratch on the door, and then a bang, and then the sound of snarling.

by the time you had gotten up to investigate, the captain was already up, armored, and prepared to slaughter the monsters that surrounded the cabin.

"(y/n), it's alright. I will deal with them - go back to sleep, I won't allow anything to harm you," he assured you, reaching for his sword at the side of the door and raising it.

but, you were still standing behind him. "you're still hurt-"

"(y/n), please step back - let me do this for you, allow me to protect you, as I've sworn to," the banging and snarling got louder, more aggressive.

you stepped back, watching as the captain opened the door, stepped out, and shut the door behind himself.

you wanted to cry - scream, chase after him, and drag him back inside but instead, you ran off to get the sewing kit, bandages, and a towel before sitting down on the couch and waiting.

he was capable, you knew he could handle the monsters.

you heard the gory slashes from the sword, the sound of those monsters meeting their end, and you also heard the sound of another wave of monsters arriving.

the fight was long.

when the door opened, the captain stood there, blood dripping from every inch of his armor and his sword.

he was breathing heavily - those deep breaths muffled by his mask, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, as he dropped the heavy sword to the ground and nudged the door shut behind him. "they're gone for now... (y/n)," he managed to say between each labored breath.

"are you alright-"

to his knees he went, kneeling before you and resting his bloodied mask against you. he wanted nothing more than to stay like this, especially when you reached down and removed the mask from his face.

and then you lowered to your knees also and hugged him; despite the gore, despite the blood covering him, you still hugged him.

he wanted time to stop on this very moment - he wanted to remain on his knees before you, to have you care for him, to worry for him, to embrace him.

...

you wanted to go to sumeru.

you had mentioned it once, and the captain hadn't forgotten; he wouldn't forget something like that.

you said you liked the weather, you liked the culture and you thought it was cool. surely, you would be very pleased if he took you there.

well, that was his plan.

or, sort of.

though he wouldn't be able to leave with you, at least you could go, at least you could be happy. knowing you were happy, made the captain happy.

he would wake you up in the morning, take you to the harbor, and send you off - it should be simple; he had been thinking about it for a while now; he had prepared himself for the grief he would feel at the initial loss of you.

then, while you were gone, the captain would prepare to leave snezhnaya himself - though it was a longer, more difficult process.

it would be a sort of massacre.

but wherever you were, he would be there also.

so when morning came, the captain woke you up in an almost urgent matter, saying, "Get dressed with haste."

sure, you didn't understand but you got dressed with haste anyway. the captain made sure you ate a suitable meal before leaving.

he took your hand into his and guided you out of the cabin, and the two of you began walking - it wasn't too far away, but it wasn't close by any means.

"where are we going?" you asked him, and he replied, "an outing would be nice, no?"

you wouldn't leave without him willingly, he knew that. so he had to lie; he would have to do whatever it took to get you on the ship.

he needed you to be safe.

"oh, yeah. yeah, i guess," you nodded, your shoulder bumping the captain's as you stepped over a log in your path.

the rest of the walk was silent. it was sinking in that you would be gone and the captain would be here without you. perhaps these months had been some of the greatest in his life - being with you gave him much peace.

you felt the captain's hand tighten around yours as the two of you approached the busy harbor. you stilled, looking at him, "where are we going? the people are gonna see you and... and you don't have your sword."

"i won't be needing it," the captain assured you, releasing your hand from his hold. he swallowed and stood a step back from you to stop himself from attempting to grab you, "get onto the blue ship- it will take you to sumeru. you've always wanted to go there, right-"

"sure but I'm not going if you're not-"

"(y/n), i need you to go. I'll meet you there, that's a promise," a promise he could not break, he took another step back, and felt a dull ache in his chest and side, "i will find you in sumeru. you won't be alone for long. I'll find you."

you glanced back at the boat before looking at the captain once more, and your throat tightened, "you swear?"

"I do."

[naughtyneganjdm]

Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 1

Summary: When life becomes too overwhelming for Y/N, she takes a spontaneous trip during Christmas time to try to escape her hectic life leading her to the town of Jackson, Wyoming. There she stays at an inn ran by two brothers with her first interaction being with the grumpy older brother, Joel Miller. What starts off as a contemptuous relationship takes a surprising turn when the two grow closer.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/156279676

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Swearing, Depressing Thoughts, Joel is very grumpy, third person reader, female reader, etc. (I will add more warnings as the chapters go on)

Notes: This is my first Joel Miller solo story that I'm writing and it's very Christmas themed. Thanks to anyone who takes the time to read it! As always Y/N means your name or whatever name you choose to use for the story.

There were moments in life where being spontaneous led to some of the most amazing memories in people’s lives, but right now? Y/N wasn’t sure that it was going to be one of them. Staring out into the darkness from the backseat of the taxi she was in, Y/N clung to her bag and sighed loudly. Eight hours ago she was standing in the middle of the Newark airport looking for a way out. The stress had gotten to be too much. Work was eating away at her. It was the holidays so she was already feeling lonely. And a crass decision led her out to the middle of what felt like nowhere.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but if you would have landed during the day it would have taken your breath away,” the driver’s voice pulled her stare from the window. Maybe that was the case, but right now? With it being this late, it just was nothing but darkness. Stealing a quick look back at her, the old man offered her a big smile. Thick framed glasses covered the older man’s face taking up most of the residence that was there. Large wrinkles were under his eyes and there was a cowboy hat that sat atop of his head. “Jackson, Wyoming is one of the most beautiful places in the states. I think when the sun comes up, you’re going to be held aback.”

Truthfully? She didn’t know if that was going to be true considering she was a city girl at heart.

“What brings you to Jackson?” the older man hooked his arm around the passenger’s seat, taking another look back at her. It had her finger’s curling tightly around her bag feeling incredibly uncomfortable that he kept taking his eyes off the road. Especially since it was snowing and there was already plenty of snow covering the ground. Sure, there weren’t a lot of cars on the road they were traveling, but it made her ill at ease. “Do you have family here that you are just visiting for the holidays?”

“No, no family,” she was quick to answer forcing herself to look down and away from the man wishing like hell she would just get to this inn quickly.

“So, are you here for the resort then?” the man questioned her once more, having a loud exhale fall from her lips. “Jackson is known for having some of the best mountains for skiing.”

“No, I’m not really a skier,” she confessed, attempting to calm herself in the back of the taxi, but she wasn’t exactly sure that was a possibility. “I’m actually not the biggest fan of heights to be honest with you.”

“Didn’t you just fly in on a plane?” the man seemed shocked to hear that from her, his face scrunching up in disbelief at her answer. “I did just pick you up from the airport.”

“I did, but that wasn’t really all that comfortable,” she admitted knowing that she had never been a big fan of airplanes. Flying was not something that she could ever get used to. Considering she felt like humans were meant to keep their feet on the ground, she never enjoyed getting onto an airplane. She had never been a fan of heights. They had scared her since she was a child and it was something that she had never really outgrew. And because of that she had to find ways to distract herself on the plane. Either by listening to music or watching movies. If she really thought too deeply about the idea of flying, she was certain that she would have given herself a panic attack.

“Is that the only bag that you have?” the man continued to interrogate her when they got to a stoplight. Dropping her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes and let out an exaggerated breath. Right now? She was just wishing for some silence. Not all of these questions. Instead of answering, she just gave him a nod. And by the sound he gave her in return? She could tell that he was shocked. “Well I hope you have something warmer than that in there because Jackson really does get cold around this time of the year. We’re getting news reports that there is supposed to be a really big storm sweepin’ in. How long are you planning on staying here?”

“I really don’t know,” she was honest with the man, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke. Twenty-four hours ago, she didn’t even think she would be leaving New York City, yet here she was. “Do you want me to be brutally honest with you?”

“I mean, if you want?” the man stammered, turning down the old country music that he had playing in the background to give her his full attention. “I reckon we ain’t far from the center of town if you want to talk some.”

“Since you seem like a big talker, I’ll let you in on my life,” she put emphasis on her words, finding herself kind of irritated with the man that she got stuck with that was driving her from the airport to her inn. Part of her felt like if she didn’t start talking, he would have just kept asking her questions and that would have made her feel even more uncomfortable. Likely, she was never going to see this man again, so what did it matter if she unloaded on him about what led her to this moment? “About twenty hours ago, I was standing in the middle of a hospital in New York City. I’m a trauma surgeon there. A patient that I was certain I could save died on the table in front of me. And to be honest with you? It kind of shattered me. I’m good at what I do. And I couldn’t save this patient’s life. I realized that I am fucking miserable. My boyfriend who also works at the hospital recently broke up with me because he felt like I was too dedicated to my job. I’m an only child and both my parents are dead. Nor do I have any extended family left. I’ve been so busy with work that I really don’t have many friends. So I decided that I wanted to get away from my life for a while and here I am.”

That was the honest to God truth. After that patient died? She finally took the vacation time that she had never done previously. Took a shower, got dressed, packed a bag and went to the airport. Instead of picking where she wanted to go, she went to the ticket agent at the airport and requested one thing of her. Put her on an airplane that was leaving soon and was completely unlike New York City. The ticket agent didn’t even tell Y/N what she picked for her. Just handed her a ticket and promised her that it was nothing like New York City. She only learned that she would be going to Jackson, Wyoming when she ended up at the gate.

“I had someone who worked at the airport pick for me where I was going. I thought being spontaneous would be the best thing for me because most of my own decisions have led me to nothing but sadness. So I gave them my money. I took the ticket. And I got on what felt like the smallest airplane possible to get here. While on the plane, I had to distract myself because of the crazy amounts of turbulence that took place. During the flight I was certain we were going to die several times,” she rambled on, feeling her blood boiling at the idea of everything. This was completely unlike her. When she traveled, she wanted all of the details. What she was doing, where she was going, what to expect. So this was stressful enough as it was. “And I ended up in Jackson, Wyoming. After I landed here, I had no idea where to go. Obviously, it’s late outside. So I asked one of the employees there if they had a suggestion as to where I should stay. They gave me the name of the Copper Peak Inn after I told them that I wasn’t here for the skiing. I don’t know how long I’m staying. And I’m not even sure I should be here in the first place.”

“Well…” the man took a long pause and considering she just unloaded a whole lot of trauma onto him? She didn’t blame him. He was asking a lot of questions that she decided to be brutally honest with. An extended exhale escaped his lips, his thick, fuzzy eyebrows bouncing up over his glasses in contemplation. “That’s a lot to deal with I reckon. But I think you’ll find Jackson to be the perfect place for you to be. What it sounds like you need is to relax. Avoid the stresses that you’re used to. And this is the perfect town to just be one with mother nature and enjoy your surroundings. The sights alone will take your breath away. And the wildlife? If you get to one of our parks or just go out for a drive? It’s beautiful.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it because right now, all I see is stars and darkness,” she held her hand up toward the window to observe that not far off in the distance was the lights of the small town of Jackson. What was strange about this whole thing was how fast the car ride from the airport to Jackson actually was.

“Are you a fan of western films?” the old man seemed excited to ask her that question. Instead of staying on the topic of her stressful life, he was eager to hop onto something new after she overshared with him. “We had a few of them movies filmed out here y’know.”

“No, not really,” she responded knowing that she was never really drawn to the old west or the countryside at all.

“Oh, well then I guess that won’t appeal to you either. I tell you what? You give anyone some time to be here for a while and I guarantee that they will fall in love with Jackson,” the man assured her as they reached town. Looking around, she realized that this place looked exactly like a modern version of an old west town that you’d see in the movies. A blast from the past so to speak. Each building seemed to be decorated with generic, white string lights so that everything matched. It was simple, but she guessed charming in it’s own way. “And I think the Copper Peak Inn is gonna work perfectly for you. The place is owned by the Miller boys. I got to know the younger one when he first came to town. Real sweet boy. They bought the inn after his older brother moved to town to be close. They’re good boys. Mostly. The older one can get a bit grumpy, but he means well. It’s a small place. Real homey. A nice place for you to put your feet up and really relax. In fact? The inn was voted the best historic small hotel in the country a few years back. A lot of history is living inside of those walls.”

“A few years back?” she stammered, a tiny chuckle falling from her lips. “I wonder what made them lose it in the last few years?”

“What was that?” the man clearly didn’t pick up on what she said which she was thankful for. She had whispered it and she was being a smartass when he was just trying to be kind. It was just she couldn’t picture anything around here being voted the best anything really. It was small and kind of cheesy. Shaking her head, she acted as if she was coughing to avoid having to repeat herself. “The nice thing about the inn is that it won’t be too busy during this time of the year. If you were going to one of the resorts, I imagine they’d be busier. You’re in the center of downtown, so there is plenty to look at. And if you want, you’re not too far away from some of the best attractions.”

“Oh? Are there a lot of attractions in town?” she spoke up, finding it hard to believe that a town like this could really draw much. The streets were empty and she wasn’t surprised. It was well past midnight and in a town like this? She imagined they were in bed earlier. Most buildings looked dark and shut down. Only one building had caught her eye and she assumed it was the one place they used to draw in tourists. It was undoubtedly a bar that had a gigantic glowing sign of a cowboy and a horse that was on top of the building. But even that looked like no one was there at this time of night. “I guess for city folk you might not think so, but I think you’ll enjoy yourself,” the man insisted pulling up to what she had assumed to be the inn. A few cars were parked out in front of it making her realize that he was right. Nothing seemed to busy out here. “Here we are ma’am. I’d offer to help you take your bags inside, but seeing as you only have that one bag…”

“I can handle it sir,” she assured him, sitting forward in her seat as she moved for the handle of the door. It would look pretty ridiculous if she made this old man carry in her single bag for her anyways. “For all we know, you might be taking me back to the airport in the morning.”

And right now? She thought that was a strong possibility. This town was nothing like she was used to. Looking at the places and the buildings, she was certain that she wouldn’t fit in easily. The only thing she was excited about was to finally get to a place where she could relax for the night alone.

“We’ll see miss,” the old man seemed to laugh at her comment, waving his hand about in the air. At least he found amusement in that. “I think Jackson is gonna surprise you.”

“It already has,” she blurt out, getting out of the taxi. A strong, cool gust of wind surrounded her once she got out. The old man wasn’t kidding. It was very cold. Much colder than New York City was when she left. Moving around the taxi, she stared up at the building before her. Taking in the sights of the old inn had her grumbling under her breath. Shaking her head, she started to consider that this whole thing was a horrible mistake and decision that she made. “But not in the best of ways.”

The sound of the taxi leaving was heard behind her. Clutching tightly to her bag, she knew that there was no escape for her now. This was where she would be staying tonight. A row of flags hung over the entrance of the hotel. Along with those were the similar decorations that most everyone had in town. White string lights that emphasized the architecture of the building. Unlike the other buildings, it genuinely did look like the owners tried to add a little more to make things look nicer. That was worth complimenting at least.

When she left the hospital yesterday, she decided that she was going to let other people make decisions for her. Hoping that somehow it would lead her to something better in life. After arriving in Jackson? She realized how stupid that was and how she should never do that again.

Lowering her head, she took a look at the pillar that was right before her. There was a horseshoe that was welded onto it. Outstretching her hand, she curled her fingers around the horseshoe and tugged slightly at it. This definitely wasn’t like the hotels that she was used to.

Heading for the large wooden doors of the entrance to the inn, she stopped to gather herself. It was freezing outside, but she didn’t know how she would handle being here. This place was everything that she wasn’t. Finally gathering the courage, she pushed open the doors to see a small set of stairs before her that led to the lobby. The railings of the stairs were shaped into a bull’s head and it made her grumble something under her breath. A certain scent surrounded her once she was inside. It was a mix of what she assumed to be wood, leather and some kind of Christmas scented candles that the inn had been burning earlier in the day. Gazing around the small entry way, she saw to the left that there were a set of stairs that led down to a fitness room. Well that surprised her. With how this place was? She didn’t expect it to have much of anything other than rooms. 

Moving into the lobby of the inn, she was met almost immediately by a large set of stairs that led up to the second level. Every step had a poinsettia plant on each side all the way up. Garland was wrapped around the handrails and the balusters had Christmas lights wrapped around them. Off to the right side she could see the top of a Christmas tree that they had decorated. Old fashioned would be an understatement. This place was definitely modeled to be inspired by the old west. Rustic, large sized, red colored carpets covered the already carpeted floor. The light was warm, to match the aura of the Inn. She imagined right now with the over-the-top Christmas decorations that this place looked better than it usually did during the rest of the year. And that wasn’t saying much. Instead of being a place for people to stay, the first floor looked like an old west museum.  

From where she was standing, she could see that there was a small area off to the left where people could sit. Western styled statues sat beside each side of the staircase. Large paintings covered the walls that were also western themed. There was a small sign to the right that was pointing toward the ATM. That was the most modern thing she had seen thus far. The place was quiet. No one was there. No one that she heard at least.

Right beside the entrance was registration. The only problem was? It was empty. There was a bell that was seated upon the counter, but the last thing she wanted to do was wake up everyone in the place. This was a small inn. Certainly if anyone was in it, her ringing that small silver bell would be waking people up and upsetting them. Someone had to be here. Somewhere.

Stepping further into the inn, she looked up the stairs to see that they split midway. Up at the second level, she could see from down below that there was a large deer’s head that was hanging over the fireplace they had up there. The sight of it drew her to groan out in disgust. She hated that kind of décor. Moving around the stairs, her eyes fell upon a row of old-fashioned slot machines that made her smirk. In that moment she wondered if they worked or if they were just part of the decor of the inn.

Just beyond the stairs was the large Christmas tree that had caught her eye once she had entered. It was two stories tall with the star reaching the second floor. It was an open lobby and this tree took up a lot of space. Beside the tree she felt small. The lights on it were white with red ornaments covering it along with a gold ribbon that wrapped around the tree. This tree was undoubtedly meant to be their center piece. She assumed that the overabundance of decorations was something that drew people to this inn.

Continuing around the tree and behind the staircase, her eyes fell upon a large fireplace and hanging above it was a large moose head. This was already turning out to be a place that she felt like she didn’t belong. On top of the moose’s head was a Christmas hat that she assumed the owners found charming, but she just found it…strange? A few Christmas stockings were hanging over the fireplace and that along with the fire were the only things that had appealed to her since she walked in. It felt warm from where she was standing. And considering what she was wearing wasn’t really the warmest of things, she found herself stepping closer to the fire.

By now? She had expected someone to greet her, but the lower level was still empty. Moving around the older styled chairs that were set up, she gasped when she realized that there was a man stretched out in one of the chairs before the fire sleeping. His head was dropped back against the chair, his arms draped over the side of it. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a green plaid button-down shirt that had a white t-shirt underneath. It looked like a few of the buttons on his shirt weren’t properly buttoned. His salt and pepper colored hair was messy. By the looks of him? He’d probably been sleeping there for a while.

Doing her best to avoid waking him, she tried to move around him to get near the fire. Right now she was sore. It had been over twenty-four hours since she had slept. She was on the plane for over seven hours. It had been a long day for her. All she wanted to do was unwind, relax and get some sleep.

Taking another moment to observe her surroundings, she realized that beside the fireplace was a ballroom. She didn’t know what it looked like inside, but she couldn’t imagine this place getting a lot of conventions or parties. Further to the right there was a hallway that had a sign over it pointing toward the restaurant, bar and bathrooms. Something told her that the restaurant was closed. Which was a shame because she was rather hungry. All she ate was a granola bar on the plane ride over here. The door was open to a small gift shop at the inn, but like the rest of the place, it was empty. With no one there it could have been easy for someone to steal, but she assumed they had cameras up somewhere. No one would just leave their store empty like that. At least not in New York City.

Truthfully? The only sign of life was the sleeping man that was behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she clung to her bag and cleared her throat. Maybe he would be able to help her. That first attempt didn’t work, so she stepped in closer. Trying again, that didn’t work either. Tapping her foot against his had him shifting in his sleep. His head dropped down, a groan falling from his throat. Lazily, he reached up with his right hand to drag his palm down over the side of his face over his tanned flesh. Stroking his fingers through his short beard, he stretched out his body and lifted his head. Unhurriedly, his chocolate-colored eyes fluttered to an open and when he saw her standing before him he gave her a grunt.

“Hello,” she lifted her hand and offered up a weak smile, that just got a wrinkle of his nose in return. “I was wondering if you knew where someone was that worked here so I could get a room. Registration is empty.”

Muttering something under his breath, the man just seemed to get more comfortable in the chair he was in. Scoffing, he buried his head against the side of the chair and closed his eyes again in attempts to get comfortable. Well, that was useless.

Moving away from the fire, she was realizing that there were hallways that led everywhere. Even if this was a small place, she was bound to get lost if she didn’t stick to where she was. Right now? She just wanted a room. She wanted sleep. Getting lost in the inn was something she could do tomorrow. Not during the middle of the night.

Hanging over the bathrooms were two signs. One that said cowboys and the other cowgirls. Part of her hoped that one of the employees had run off to the bathroom right before she had shown up, but something told her that wasn’t the case. Realizing she really had no other choice, she headed back for registration near the front. Already, she was missing the feeling of the warmth of the fire.

Stepping up to the counter, she looked over it to see if someone was in the office. When she was met by an empty room, she huffed loudly. Outstretching her hand, she did what she didn’t want to do in the first place and rang the bell. With how quiet the place was, it had the sound flooding the entire first floor. Cringing at the sound, she looked around hoping to see the person that was meant to help her coming from one of the many hallways that were near the lobby. Instead she was met with nothing. Hitting the bell again, she heard movement and looked over her shoulder to see that the man that was sleeping was stumbling over toward her.

“The hell are you doin’?” his deep, southern drawl surrounded her as he made his way beside her. Muttering something under his breath, his eyes grew wide as he tried to force himself awake. Snatching the bell, he took it from her like she was doing something wrong. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Kind of, yeah,” she stammered, throwing her bag over her shoulder while she stared up at the man before her. If he didn’t come off like such a grumpy ass prick, she would have been appealed to his ruggedly handsome good looks, but right now she found herself more so annoyed with him. “That’s why I’m trying to get a room. I’d like to get some sleep.”

“And are you trying to wake everyone up in the inn by doing that?” he jeered, tossing the bell into the office that was behind the desk. Dropping his hands down to his hips, he shifted on his feet before her with the lines in his forehead becoming more prominent. There was no questioning that he was frustrated with her. “Or what?”

“Well, if someone was here I wouldn’t have to be ringing the bell. Now would I?” she snapped at the man before her, noticing the wrinkle at the bridge of his nose growing deeper. “I’m starting to regret asking someone for a suggestion at the airport. They said that this inn was the nicest one I would find in Jackson. I’m starting to second guess that.”

“I’m sure you would,” the man scoffed, a smirk tugging at his features hinting that his irritation with her was getting larger. “I imagine this kind of place is beneath you, isn’t it?”

“You get that from what exactly?” she wondered, folding her arms out in front of her chest evoking a muted laugh from him in return.

“I saw you walking around the lobby. Scrutinizing everything that you were looking at,” he explained, rocking back and forth on his feet after he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. So he was watching her and pretending to be asleep? That wasn’t at all strange. “Let me tell you something lady. If you have a problem with this place? You’re gonna have a problem with the rest of the places in town.”

“Would I at least find someone at the front desk at the other locations around town to help me get a room?” she snapped at the stranger feeling her heart hammering inside of her chest with the way that he was treating her.

“I don’t know, why don’t you go and try to find out?” he snarled, tipping his head to the side with his dark eyes narrowing at her. “Now you go and enjoy that walk around town in the cold wearing only that. Let me know what you find out. That is if you don’t freeze by the time you get there.” 

“What the hell is your problem?” she hissed at him, her whole body tensing up.

The sound of feet shuffling behind them was heard and she realized that someone was quickly stumbling down the stairs. 

“I am so sorry,” another voice drew her to look back realizing that it was another man that was moving incredibly fast to join them. Once he reached the bottom, a grunt fell from him when he accidentally tripped making him miss the final two steps. Landing weird, the other man tried to gather himself before continuing to work a button down shirt up his arms over his gray t-shirt that was beneath. “You are gonna have to forgive my brother here. We weren’t expecting anyone. There were no reservations made for tonight. My name is Tommy Miller. I’m co-owner of this establishment.”

“Ah,” she breathed out, her eyes gazing down to Tommy’s hand when he extended it out to her. Accepting the gesture, she looked between the two brothers. Thinking back to the taxi ride over here made her remember something. “I’m going to take it you’re the younger brother?”

“Yes ma’am,” Tommy seemed impressed, a large smile tugging at his lips. Between the two? They were vastly different. Tommy gave off a very friendly demeanor whereas his brother looked like he had a permanent scowl over his face. “How’d you know that?”

“The taxi driver told me about the two of you on my way over here,” she spoke honestly, looking back to the original man she had been speaking to. “Told me that the younger brother was very nice. And the older one? Well, he was grumpy.”

“Grumpy?” the original man repeated with a roll of his eyes. Under his breath she was fairly certain she heard him mutter, “What a dick.”

“So which one of you were supposed to be here at registration?” she didn’t mean to be blunt, but she just wanted a room and this was already turning out to be more of an affair than she wanted it to be. By the way Tommy’s eyes looked, she could tell that her bickering with Joel had likely woken him up from sleeping.

“That was supposed to be my brother Joel,” Tommy released her to point his hand out toward the man she had been bickering with right before Tommy showed up. Why did that information not surprise her? “I had been here for twenty-four hours. I asked Joel to watch over the counter for me so I could get some sleep. I reckon because we didn’t have any reservations, Joel didn’t expect anyone to show up. I’m sorry for that.”

“So you two are the owners?” she confirmed with Tommy who nodded his head quickly in response.

“Gee, that was hard to put together. Like he didn’t already tell you that we were,” Joel snorted, bobbing his head about in a dramatic manner. Throwing his hand back, Tommy hit Joel over the center of the chest with the back of his hand. “If him telling you that we were didn’t help you realize that…” Joel held up his finger instructing her to wait. Moving over toward the entrance, Joel held his hand up to bring her attention to a photo that was on the wall that featured them. “It says right here that Joel and Tommy Miller are the proud owners of The Copper Peak Inn. Along with Tommy’s wife Maria.”

“Joel!” Tommy snapped at his brother attempting to get Y/N to look to him instead of at Joel who continued to make an ass of himself. “I’m very sorry. If you’re still interested in a room, I can give you a discount for my brother’s attitude. He gets grumpy when he’s tired.”

“I’m going to guess that you’re the one people like more,” she commented causing Joel to let out an annoyed, raspy laugh from behind her.

“Ha, that’s so funny,” Joel almost mocked her, letting out a surprised sound when she lifted her hand up to flick him off. Almost immediately Tommy laughed as he moved through the door to the room that led to registration, stopping at the counter. Glaring at his brother, Joel didn’t seem to approve that his brother got a kick out of her giving him attitude right back.

“What can I do for you ma’am?” Tommy tapped his hands on top of the counter and gave her another one of his big smiles. Reaching up, he brushed his long, dark hair back when she approached him.

“Is the inn pretty busy?” she looked around, looking back up toward the second level. She assumed that was where the rooms were since everything else seemed to lead to some kind of attraction that had to do with the inn.

“You do realize how close to Christmas it is, right?” Joel wondered, moving in behind her making her jump. Leaning against the wall beside her, Joel folded his arms in front of his chest getting a glare from Tommy from where he was standing. “People tend to be home with their families when it’s Christmas time.”

“Some people might be coming in to visit?” she quipped back, turning to face Joel finding herself wanting to fight with this guy since she was already so tense as it was. “I assume that you would have people that do that.”

“I mean sure, a few here and there, but this is Jackson, Wyoming. You really think the people that live here leave here?” Joel huffed, his head resting against the wall while he eyed her over. “People like to come and visit during the earlier month of December. Not the week of Christmas.”

“The taxi driver said on the way here that you two aren’t from here. That you moved here and bought the place,” she repeated what she had heard on the drive over. “So why did you two come here?”

“Because I was lost,” Tommy surprised her when he spoke up, drawing her attention back to him. “I was looking for something else in life and I found it here with my wife. My big brother here followed me. And the owners who had this before enjoyed our story so they let us buy the inn from them. They were charmed that we were brothers. Throughout time it was always two brothers that owned this place. We’re from Texas? Where are you from?”

“I live in New York City,” she answered, surprised how different Joel and Tommy were. “I just flew here from New Jersey. And I’ve been up for over twenty-four hours. I’d really just like to get a room please.”

“We can do that for you,” Tommy assured her with a wink, moving over to the computer to start typing something in. “So what kind of room were you looking to have? Just a regular room or would you prefer something that was themed?”

“What’s the best room you have?” she inquired hearing Joel grumble something under his breath from where he was leaning against the wall beside her.

“The best room is a two roomed suite that is made for more than one person because there are two beds,” Joel informed her with a grunt getting her eyes to fall back upon him. “So I don’t think you’re going to need the best room.”

“Okay, what’s the best room for one single person?” she revised her question trying to block out Joel who was staring out at her with an amused expression. Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice that he was looking her over like he was trying to determine the kind of person that she was.

“Well, that would probably be the cowboy suite,” Tommy offered up with another flashy smile, his brown eyes hopeful that she would want to stay after his brother had given her endless amounts of shit. “It’s got a spacious sitting area, a wet bar, a really nice bed. You get your own fridge, microwave, coffee maker, the whole deal really. It is western themed, but it’s the best suite we have. And for your troubles, I’ll give you twenty-five percent off the cost.”

“Sure, I’ll take that,” she agreed to the room listening to Tommy typing things in on the computer.

“Okay, so we’ll need a credit card and some ID,” Tommy explained to her having her digging through the bag that she was carrying in order to get what he was asking from her. “How many days were you planning on staying?”

“I’m not really sure,” she responded, getting a confused expression from Tommy. Feeling awkward and out of place, she cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders. “Is there a way I can just go day by day? I just needed a break from my life and I ended up here. I don’t know how long I’m going to stay.”

“Well I just learned all I need to about you,” Joel spoke up, straightening up his back so that way he was standing beside her. “You’re rich because price means nothing to you. You don’t even know the price of the suite, yet you agreed. And unlike normal people, you can decide how long you do and do not want to stay somewhere.”

“And you’re very much welcome here,” Tommy declared, cutting his brother off before he could offend her any more from not wanting to be at their inn. “We’ll work with you. Just try to give us a day’s notice before you decide to leave. This suite is actually perfect for someone who is sticking around for an extended stay.”

“Do you have family here?” Joel felt like he was interrogating her even further while Tommy continued to put her information into the computer.

“No,” she was short with her answer.

“Do you like skiing?” Tommy spoke up with a positive energy that was attempting to match Joel’s negative. “We have some of the best mountains out here for people. And it’s a quick drive to the resort if you want to get some of that in before Christmas.”

“I…I really don’t like skiing. I have a fear of heights,” she explained to Tommy, clinging tightly to her bag when Joel’s laugh followed.

“Who comes all the way out to Jackson if they don’t have family here and they aren’t interested in skiing? That’s kind of the only reason to come out here. Especially during this time of the year. You’re from New York City, I’m sure there were other places you could have gone,” Joel continued to ramble on, getting a glare from her in response.

“Here are your cards Ms. Y/N. Uhm, we have a restaurant and bar that open in the morning. Same with our gift shop. You can do some gambling at night if you’re interested. We have a lot of historical things out and about that you can look at around the inn,” Tommy handed her over the key and then reached for a brochure to give her. “There are some really beautiful things to do and see out here. And of course if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask. Joel, why don’t you help her grab her bags. Do you have them waiting outside in the car?”

“No, this is my only bag,” she nodded toward the one that she was holding onto.

“You came here with only that?” Joel snickered, his face scrunching up in confusion. “You are aware that this is a winter town, right? And you’re planning on being here for a few days. Maybe?”

“We do offer up a laundry service,” Tommy stressed, visibly uncomfortable with the way that Joel was grilling this woman. “Joel, help her take her bag upstairs. Please.”

“It’s one single bag. She can handle it,” Joel sneered, waving his hand up in the air dismissively.

“Yeah, there is a chair calling out to him by the fireplace so he can go back to sleep,” she mocked Joel who glared back at her, shaking his head in amusement at her attitude toward him. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from that.”

“Just show her to the room, please,” Tommy begged of Joel, lowering down enough to rest his elbows against the top of the counter. Burying his head into his hands, Tommy was fit to be tied with his brother. By his reaction, she knew that Tommy was very much embarrassed.

“Sure, I’ll show you to your room. Would you prefer the stairs or the elevator,” Joel held one hand toward the direction behind him where the elevator was and the other toward the large set of stairs that were right at the front of the lobby.

“We can take the stairs,” she chose the thing that she thought would piss Joel off more considering he seemed lazy in the moment. Reaching for her bag, she seemed nervous to give it to him at first. A grunt fell from his throat and it was then she realized this was adding to his anger. Allowing him to take her bag, she stood waiting for him. Grumbling something under his breath Joel waited for her to start heading to the stairs and he followed her up. Side by side they moved, not saying a word. Just the sight of everything on the second floor had her second guessing every choice she was making. “What did I get myself into?”

“Huh?” Joel obviously didn’t hear her because she had whispered that question to herself. Shaking her head, she knew that she didn’t want to involve him in her thoughts. When they got upstairs, she saw the sitting area they had up there with another fireplace. On each side of the fireplace was a Christmas tree decorated very similar to the large one downstairs. “Are we gawking or…?”

“I’m sorry, I’m kind of taken aback by all the Christmas decorations,” she admitted, stepping before the fireplace that was lit. “No offense, but you don’t seem like the type to go for something like that.”

“It’s my brother and his wife,” Joel alerted her, moving in beside her as she gazed upon the stockings that were over this fireplace. “It’s always kinda been a tradition for this place to decorate for Christmas. This place is a staple for the town.”

“I see,” she didn’t know how to respond to that. This was just a small, two leveled inn. It was decorated, but she didn’t know if she would consider it nice. The old western theme was battling the Christmas theme and it was hard to take in.

“So tell me something,” Joel began, biting down on his bottom lip and slightly turning his head to gaze upon her. “What are you doing here? What drew you to Jackson?”

“Do you really care?” she asked, her eyebrows arching in a moment of surprise. Throughout her entire experience with Joel, he didn’t seem like the type to want to learn anything about her. By the expression over Joel’s face, he was deeply contemplating her question.

“No, not really,” Joel was blunt eliciting an offended breath from her. “I’m just curious about you. You’re a city girl. You have money. You could probably go anywhere in the world. And this is the place you pick? It’s hard to really determine what you’re doing here.”

“I didn’t choose it,” she explained, turning to face Joel who continued to look down at the fire. The lack of eye contact made her uncomfortable, but maybe it was the loneliness that was setting in that made her want to talk to someone. “I’m a trauma surgeon at a hospital in New York City.”

“Ah, lemme guess,” Joel smirked, slurring his words together as his eyebrow arched in amusement. “You became a doctor because you watched those medical dramas on the television when you were younger. And that life just appealed to you.”

“Yeah, because every doctor watches Grey’s Anatomy and decides that’s the life for them,” she snapped back at Joel who simply snickered under his breath. Rocking back and forth on his feet, Joel sighed loudly realizing he had gotten under her skin with his comment. “You don’t even care what happened so why am I bothering?”

“Because I wanna know how you ended up here. Specifically,” Joel stressed to her the information that he wanted from her. Pointing his finger down, he tapped his foot on the ground. That made her realize that he meant at The Copper Peak Inn in Jackson. “You don’t seem like the country girl. You’re afraid of heights. You don’t like the western era. I can tell that by the way you look at everything. You’re not a gambler. You snubbed your nose at that suggestion from my brother. So how did you end up here? Especially when you visibly hate everything that would draw someone here in the first place.”

“I packed a bag, I showed up at the airport and I asked the woman working there to pick a place for me that was completely unlike New York City,” she claimed, her eyebrows furrowing as she finally noticed Joel’s dimples with him smirking. “I didn’t even know where I was going until I showed up at the gate. And I ended up in this inn because the person at the airport suggested it to me. Said the owners were incredible and it was the best place to stay in town.”

“Hmm…” Joel hummed to himself, reaching up with his free hand to drag it down over the side of his face. “I don’t mean to dig it in, but you do realize how stupid that decision was. Right? When you go somewhere, you should know what you’re getting yourself into. What the weather is like, what the people are like…”

“I really don’t want to be lectured by you,” she interrupted him, her blood boiling with Joel rambling on about all the mistakes that he felt she made in coming here. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through or what even led me here.”

“And I don’t care to,” Joel blurt out, turning to her and waving his hand about in the air. By the color flooding into her cheeks, Joel could tell that she was furious with him and upset. “I’d love to tell you I care, but I don’t. Thank you for choosing this inn, my brother and his wife certainly appreciate it. I reckon you won’t be here long, but I hope you find yourself comfortable.”

Stepping forward, she snatched her bag from Joel suddenly feeling incredibly small standing before the man in front of her, “Where is my room?”

“Turn around,” Joel pointed toward the back hallway that led off toward the right. Snapping his fingers, Joel started to move toward the door. It was hard to miss because it was the first room she saw. When she approached it, she could see that there was a carving of a cowboy on a horse on the door. It was gaudy and ugly, but you couldn’t miss the room. They had a wreath hanging on the door that was partially blocking the design of the door. Reaching for her key, Joel was quick to grab it from her fingers to open the door for her. Once it pushed open, he extended his hand out and motioned her to walk through. “As you can see, this is your sitting area.”

Right now, she really didn’t need him to give her a tour of the inn room. More than anything she just wanted to be left alone. Standing at the center of the room she tried to force herself from looking at Joel. At the corner of the room was a Christmas tree that was lit up. Two red, leather couches were pressed against the walls beside the tree. A gigantic old west painting filled up one of the walls causing her to tense up at the sight of it. It was so ugly.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Joel was stepping into the room and it brought her attention to the desk area. Everything was wooden. The desk chair was a very rustic looking design where it looked like it was made from the branches of trees.

“Here is your wet bar,” Joel showed her some things, opening up a certain cabinet to show the mini refrigerator that was there. “There is a fridge, a microwave and whatever else you need. If you’re hungry or thirsty, there are vending machines right down the hallway. An ice machine is in there too. If you move into your room…”

Joel motioned her to go into the bedroom making her chuckle when she stepped inside of it. They weren’t lying when they told her it was old western themed. Even though it was spacious and it had a large king-sized bed, everything was incredibly old fashioned. From the seating to the bedframe and all of the art on the walls. Walking over to the bed, she set her bag down on top of it and reached for the teddy bear that was at the center of the bed. It was a large brown bear and it had a Santa hat on top of its head.

Holding it up, she looked back at Joel seeing that he was standing in the doorway leaning against the doorframe. Joel’s eyebrows bounced up and he shrugged dramatically looking at the stuffed animal, “The guests tend to like the gesture. Usually you can buy him, but if you like him I can throw him in for free.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she held the bear in her hands and out of the corner of her eye could see Joel pushing his hands into his pockets, “Considering I’m sure you’re gonna be quite lonely over the next few days.”

“I was waiting for the insult,” she frowned, shaking her head knowing that him offering the bear out of the kindness of his heart just didn’t seem to be this man’s way of doing things. Setting the bear aside, she got up from the bed and stepped in front of Joel. “Before you embarrass your brother any further, why don’t you go sleep off the whiskey that is overpowering your breath right now.”

Slowly, the arrogant smirk over Joel’s features left and a sense of anger flooded over him, “I smelled it on you from the moment I approached you at the fire. I just didn’t say anything because I assumed you were having a bad day just like I was. But I’m sick of it. Thank you for showing me to my room, but I’d like you to leave. Please.”

“As you wish,” Joel did somewhat of a bow, backstepping toward the sitting room. When he heard her calling out to him, he stopped and looked back. Approaching him slowly, she was holding some money in her hand and it made him smirk. “What’s that?”

“You’re supposed to tip someone when they help you,” she reminded him holding it out with Joel’s dark eyes lowering down to look at the bills in her hand. “It’s customary.”

“I’m co-owner of the inn, I don’t need your money,” Joel alerted her, tipping his head from side to side. Giving a weak smile followed by a wink, Joel back stepped toward the door and shrugged. “Keep it. Sweet dreams there Y/N.”

And with that, Joel left her room and closed the door behind him. Standing there for a moment longer, she shoved the money back into her pocket. Taking a look around the suite that she got, she wondered if this really was a mistake. The only good thing about this place was that it was incredibly quiet.

Walking to the window, she pushed aside the curtain to look outside. Down below she could see that she was looking at the front of the building. This was like something out of a movie set. All of the buildings were still liked the old west. It was like she had jumped back in time visiting this town.

Dropping the curtains back down, she headed back toward the bed and dropped down. Laying sprawled out across the center of it allowed her legs to hang over the side. Even the fan was incredibly old fashioned. Thankfully it was clean, but there were so many turn offs and red flags from the start. Joel being one of them. Tommy seemed like a sweet guy, but she just hoped that she wouldn’t have to deal with Joel much throughout her time here. The reason she left home was because she was miserable. If being here was going to make her feel worse, that didn’t make much sense now, did it? 

[snaileer]

Time Unsolved

Dp Unsolved

“Today on Buzzfeed unsolved we cover the Timely Disappearance of Charles T. Williamsworth.”

Danny slurped loudly on his drink as the intro played. Was he maybe crazy for watching a Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime alone, at night? Maybe.

But Danny had been attacked by ghosts. What was a human gonna do that Skulker couldn’t?

“What a name!” Shane cut in immediately, the video showing him seated at their table holding a cup of coffee. Ryan laughed.

“‘Ello, yes, my name is Sir Charles T. Williamsworth, how art thou? Ah yes, jolly good!” Shane mimicked with a horrifically bad posh British accent.

Ryan laughed harder, “We’ve been to London, they don’t sound like that!” He said between laughs.

“Uh, he does! There’s no way a man with a name like that is not ‘mm yes I will take a spot of tea with my biscuit thank you.’ I’m calling it, he definitely talked like that!”

Danny smiled at the antics as Ryan wheezed, “Well it’s too bad we’ll never know for sure then isn’t it, what with his disappearance, y’know what we’re actually here to talk about.”

“That’s okay. I’ll know. I know my buddy Charles.”

“Alright then.”

Ryan flicked his file open as Shane took a sip from his coffee.

The screen lit up with an image of a man on a black backdrop.

“The Williamsworths were a French-German family who moved to Biel, Switzerland in early 1914, just months before the largest war in European history kicked off.

They were one of the lucky few families to have left France before the war broke out…”

“Oh a family moving, that’s suspicious now?”Shane cut in, yellow words typing themself across the screen.

“Well, it was right before World War 1, I mean the timing is kind of suspicious.” Ryan replied in blue.

-People move, Ryan.-

-Okay, okay, it’s just the facts of the case,.-

Danny rolled his eyes, ready for the story to continue.

The images came back.

“This move would evidently prove to be quite fortunate for the family for obvious reasons. However, it also led Charles to find his true passion: … Watchmaking.”

There was a pause as a map of Switzerland came on screen. “Biel, the town that Charles would live in for the majority of his recorded younger life, was known for watchmaking, being one of several in the heart of an area named ‘Watch Valley.’ “

-You ever own a Swiss watch?-

-Nope-

-Heard they’re good. Reeeal good.-

-Yep.-

-…-

“Charles would reportedly develop a passion for clocks, watches, and timepieces in general, only getting more entrenched in his obsession over time.”

The image of the man now shifted to be overlaid on a map.

“By the time the First World War was over, Charles had gained an ostentatious apprenticeship under one of the premiere watchmakers of the time, Max Stührling. This lasted until Stührling’s death in 1938, after which Charles vanished from any records for two years.”

-Well y’know, his mentor had just died. -Maybe he wanted to grieve. Y’know curl up in his room and not see anybody for a bit.-

Ryan laughed, -2 years, he was crying in his room for 2 years and nobody found him?-

-Well, it’s not like records were great back then, I mean what are you gonna write on the census… just.. like..-

-Loud weeping heard from inside. One resident. Unnamed.-

-Yeah!-

“The next time Charles T. Williamsworth appears on record, it is in the back of a photo from France in 1940. Showing Williamsworth standing in front of a watch shop wearing dark clothes, a distinct pocket watch, and looking into the camera.”

The black and white image appears on screen, zooming in on the background figure. Danny tilts his head at it, something about it niggling at him.

“The shop and its owner would go on to be infamous within the French town for the duration of the Second World War. Charles was unwillingly drafted in the summer of 1941, serving on the front lines for no more than 3 months before sustaining a wound to his face, leaving him with damaged eyesight, facial scarring, and a medical discharge.

He returned to his shop soon after.”

Danny frowned at the mention of what the man had probably gone through.

“Later evidence statements regarding Charles stated that he was: ‘an odd man. He never mentioned the war, leaving it behind once he was not forced to be a part of it. He seemed to be separate from it all, he only cared for his watches.’

This sense of separation would extend to his shop, as when the town was bombed in 1944 leading up to D-day, his shop was left miraculously unharmed. It was reportedly open the very next day.”

-I can appreciate the dedication- Shane says in yellow.

-Yeah, I mean, the morning after is a bit soon, but he did really love watches. If he didn’t have to, I guess he wasn’t gonna close his shop.-

-His advertising: ‘Sure you were almost killed in a fiery explosion, but look! I’ve got new watches!’ Jazz hands.-

Ryan laughs.

“Over the next 50 years, Charles T. Williamsworth would disappear from records repeatedly, sometimes for months, only present on seven censuses between 1952 and 1979. Despite this, the clock shop was never sold, remaining in wait for its master’s return.”

Multiple pictures of pocket watches came onscreen. “It became known in the surrounding area for especially good pocket watches and grandfather clocks. Each personally made using Swiss essemblage practices, often engraved.

While it was a place of prestige, some described the shop as having ‘an unbearably loud sound of ticking, as if a thousand clocks were set to the same second.’

Apparently, Charles ‘seemed to enjoy the sound, often standing in the front room when no one was present. He was able to pick out one clock if it was off time.’ Witnesses stated.”

It cut to showing Shane and Ryan at their table.

“God, I can’t imagine. That’d drive me crazy.” Shane said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I don’t know, a thousand clocks at the same time? Just..” Ryan looked back and forth frantically, as if there were sounds from every direction, “I’d go nuts pretty fast, I can’t even handle one sometimes.”

“I’d just go off and punch one of the clocks, just- RAAAH and -oh my god is that where that comes from?! I’m gonna punch your clock? Or like you clock somebody!?! Oh my god I never realized that!”

Danny’s jaw drops at the realization as Ryan laughs. Shane looks to be losing his mind as well.

“However, Charles’ most notable disappearance was his last.”

Dramatic music played as Danny zoned back in.

“Due to his frequency of vanishing for extended periods of time, it is unknown when exactly Charles disappeared. The last definite sighting of Charles T. Williamsworth was late at night on April 23rd, 1999, when neighborhood patrolman, Elliot Dubois, noticed him locking the door to his shop with its lights still on. Elliot, concerned for the safety of the elderly man, questioned him but eventually allowed Charles to leave, noting that he turned down a road that only led into the woods outside of town.

Two weeks later, 12 year old James Chappellè, a mailboy in the area, noted during his morning run on May 7 that mail had begun to pile up in front of the shop’s door.

Something that had never happened before.”

The word ‘before’ faded into red.

“It reached such a point that the mail system declared they would no longer deliver, as they couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t be stolen.

At this point, the police got involved and the case was assigned to Detective Jacob Laurent.

It turned out to be a more difficult case than first expected, as when they looked into Charles’ past, they were unable to turn up any such notable documents as a birth certificate nor any document containing a birthdate.

But when police entered the shop on May 10th, they found it largely empty, with only the shelves, register, and equipment left remaining between the front and back room. There were no clocks of any kind.

It should be noted that there was still money in the register, and a light on in the back though the other bulbs for the front seemed to have been burnt out.

Upon entering the living space above the shop, it was found to be covered in dust, and all of Charles’ clothes and belongings still present.

Rather, there was evidence that Charles largely slept in his shop, with a cot beside his workbench.

A workbench that, upon police entry, only held one gold pocketwatch, personally engraved with the initials ‘C. W.’ As it was known for Charles to always carry the pocketwatch, he was officially declared missing and possibly presumed dead.

The watch’s presence also led detective Laurent to suspect foul play.

Despite the declaration of foul play, the police did not extensively search the town woods, citing the size and density of the forest.”

The video cut to Shane staring at Ryan, face deadpan. Ryan was clearly trying to hold back laughs.

“So… let me get this straight… an old man who’s… how old at this point exactly?”

Ryan laughs, “Nobody knows, there’s no known birthday-“

“That’s weird too, but okay, let’s say he’s like what, at least 95? I mean… there’s a certain age that like if you disappear… ..eh.” Shane shrugged.

Ryan looked at him incredulously, “Eh??”

“Yeah,” Shane shrugged again, “Eh.”

“What???”

“I mean… y’know… old people wander into the woods sometimes, maybe he just went for a walk and got lost. At that age… death has gotta be around every corner, I mean come on!”

Ryan wheezed into his elbow.

Danny laughed quietly.

Once Ryan calmed down, he organized the file, clipping it down on the table, “So! With the story finished, let’s get into the theories,”

Shane rolled his eyes, “Oh god this is gonna be one of yours isn’t it? What ghosts are abducting people now?”

Danny smiled, briefly considering how much effort it would take to go haunt Shane all the way in LA.

“The first theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth was involved with the mafia at the time and was a long standing or high ranking member that had crossed the wrong people.

Some reasons for this theory is the lack of early documents, suggesting a fake identity or forgery.

This case is especially supported by the long absences, where his shop remained closed and yet still remained in his possession.

In fact, the deed for the shop was not listed under Charles’ name, instead Iisted as owned under a private organization.

This theory explains his disappearance and possible subsequent death as an act of revenge from an enemy made from illicit activities. Leaving no body behind, there would be no evidence to prosecute the acting party.

Within this, there are also some who believe that if Charles was engaged in the mafia and lived under a false identity, that his disappearance was him returning to his actual identity, possibly due to being caught.

Prison records indicate 6 Swiss-German inmates arrested at the approximate time of his disappearance, roughly matching the age and appearance of Charles. Notably, none of them had a distinct facial scar and no identification was ever confirmed.”

The screen switched.

Shane smiled at Ryan, “Oh Ho Ho, my boy Charles is getting into some funky stuff, huh? Workin’ for the Mob, breaking knees, chopping fingers?”

Ryan laughed, “Yeah maybe, it definitely lends credit to him being a part of something. Maybe he was out in the woods breaking knees y’know. Or burying something.”

“Someone,…”Shane said ominously, then burst out laughing, “What if he buried himself! Just-“Shane mimed digging, clapping his hands like he was wiping off dust, “Alright, thats a good illegal grave right there, just a good hole for a dead- woaaah!” He pretended to fall, “Boom, stuck in his own grave.”

“Really, this old man dug a 6 foot deep grave? On his own?”

“Hey you don’t know his strength, maybe he lifts.”

“Alright.” Ryan shook his head, still grinning.

Danny smiled, considering it, it did kind of make sense.

“The second theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth did indeed just walk into the woods and never come out. If this is the case, what happened in the woods is widely speculated on. Some saying that animals may have attacked him, or that he simply fell or was injured and could not get up due to his age.

This theory loses support due to the fact that no body was ever found. Though some say that if the woods were too big for the police to search, there may be a den or that his body was covered naturally.”

“Or in a grave.”

“You really think he was mafia?”

“I mean, who could tell?” Shane shrugged.

“The third theory, much like the first, is that Charles was a federal agent for one of the Allied Powers.

This theory is also supported by the significant periods of absence and lack of documents to indicate a forged identity, meant to fool the German government and allow him to work behind the lines. However, unlike the first, there is also evidence of a man with the same distinct scar on his eye, showing up in the background of photos at the British Intelligence Office, the Eiffel Tower during Germany’s occupancy, and behind closed Swiss borders.

None of which would be possible without the unique skills and permissions of a government agent.”

Silence reigned as Shane and Ryan stared each other down, Shane clearly ramping up for something.

“The name’s Williamsworth. Charles Williamsworth.” He said dramatically.

Ryan burst out laughing. “You support this one more then?”

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, he’s not in the mafia. His suspicious activities were in the name of secrecy, national secrets, confidential war trades. Espionage…”

“Well I guess, nobody’s gonna suspect the 95 year old man to be up to anything. I mean, if I saw an old man somewhere I’d just be like, huh I wonder who lost their grandpa, not ‘I bet he’s secretly working to take down Hitler.’ Y’know.”

“Charles gets caught: just ‘Whaa-at me~e? I’m just a gentle~e o~ ol~ld ma~an, I can’t harm nobody~y.” Shane mimed leaning over a cane.

“He gets caught and just pretends he has dementia, ‘Who am I? Who are you? Why am I here? Where’s my breakfast?”

Shane cackled as Ryan laughed.

Danny considered it more, this one seemed the most likely, though… he’d definitely be the oldest agent.

“Another theory is that the shop was robbed and Charles returned while or before it was happening, catching the criminals off guard and leading them to react rashly, injuring or killing Charles. They then would have hidden his body and cleaned out the shop to hide any other evidence.

This theory however is disproven by the lack of money taken from the register.

Despite this, it is the official claimed circumstance by the police at the time.”

“Fucking police, always with the boring one.” Shane said ruefully.

“Our last theory, and my personal favorite,-“

Shane groaned. Danny smiled, this was gonna be good.

“-is that Charles T Williamsworth was a time traveler. And that all of his disappearances were when he was traveling through time.

This theory supports his families early move to Switzerland under odd timing, his appearance in so many photos and even his obsession with clocks. As well as why he seemed unbothered by the tumultuous times.”

“I can… accept it.” Shane said, hesitant.

Ryan laughed, “I’ll take it.”

“Despite all of these theories, there is still significant information missing from the case.

And so, like clockwork this case shall remain:

Unsolved.”

Danny’s mouth dropped as the screen went dark.

No way.

No freaking way.

He lurched upwards, eyes wide.

Obsessed with clocks, scar on his eye, fricking weird and talks in riddles.

Oh mygod!

Danny threw himself out of bed, “I’ve connected the dots!” He rushed to untangle himself from his sheets, transforming immediately, “I’ve connected them!”

He dove for the ghost portal.

Holy frick!

Charles T. Williamsworth was Clockwork!

[cxrdycxps]

God’s Favorite/Devil’s Choice • Ellie Williams

☢️ religious trauma • child abuse (emotional and physical • mental illness • physical illness • emotional trauma • death ☢️

Main Masterlist • Ellie Williams Masterlist

“Momma?” You asked quietly, watching out the window at the back yard. The winter had hit Jackson hard which left the entirety of the town covered in snow and frost. It looked like someone had forgotten to draw in the details of real life.

“Yes, Baby?” Your mother hummed from her spot in the living room, feet up on the coffee table and book in her hand.

You looked down at the water your hands were in and the dishes you had just washed from dinner. You weren’t sure if you should ask but the question was eating you up inside. “Was all that really true?”

“All what, Baby?” Your mother asked. You released the water from the sink and clambered down from the chair you stood on carefully. You returned the chair to the dining table and moved slowly towards the living room, half hiding in the doorway.

“Am I really going to hell?” You asked her softly and she chuckled, patting the space beside her on the sofa. You joined her, climbing up on the cushion beside her.

“I wish you weren’t.” She sighed, pulling you onto her lap and holding you close. She rocked you slightly as you sniffled. “I’ve been trying to save your soul since birth but some people, well they’re just damned.”

You cried into her chest and she rocked you quietly, shushing you. Her hand ran up and down your back slowly and you had almost drifted to sleep when she tapped your leg. “You can’t sleep yet.”

You blinked at her sleepily before nodding, climbing down off her lap and stumbling towards the little cupboard under the stairs. You were five now. You had to say your prayers for an hour every night before bed.

The door to the closet closed behind you and plunged you into darkness. You didn’t like this part. You were afraid of the dark but your mother told you that you had to pray in here. You had to try and save your soul from hell.

///

“Well this just fucking sucks, doesn’t it?” You winced when Ellie dropped herself at your table, her arms crossed. She looked around and then looked back to you. “Why do you sit on your own? Are you the town freak, am I committing social suicide on my first day of school?”

You didn’t want to tell her. In fact you would die for just one friend that your mother hadn’t run away with her Bible rhetoric but you knew this wouldn’t last long. She was rough, always swearing and she seemed to be more world weary than you. Your mother didn’t like you to know a lot about what went outside the walls of Jackson because it opened your mind to sin.

“You kind of are.” You told her quietly. She looked around again at the other tables before shrugging and picking up her sandwich. “Dina is pretty cool. You could sit with her.”

“I’ve never been cool. I was a loser back in my old school and I met my best friend that way. Don’t want to break my lucky streak now.” She spoke with food in her mouth and grinned at you. You winced but couldn’t help the little laugh you gave her. It would be nice to have a friend for a little while again.

“Have you ever heard of Savage Starlight?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. This launched her into a massive spiel on what had to be the greatest comic book ever made and she informed you about all the characters and story lines she had gotten to read.

“‘Course I don’t know how it ends which is fucking annoying but I suppose that’s my little taste to understand how surviving the outbreak was hard. What about you?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her before shrugging. “Got any hobbies?”

“Not really. I got a lot of chores to do after school. I don’t really get time.” You explained and Ellie scrunched her face up. “It’s just me and Momma. I gotta help her out cause she’s not able to get around that easy.”

“Oh. Was she hurt?” Ellie asked softly and you smiled at her thoughtfulness but shook your head. “What then?”

“She’s getting old, she says. So I have to help. That’s my job as a daughter, you know?” You explained and she seemed to be pondering the thought before shrugging.

“I mean I’m an orphan, so not really. Joel doesn’t make me do chores because he’s boring and likes doing them. Says it reminds him of before.” Ellie explained and you nodded. It made sense.

“Were you always an orphan?” You asked and she nodded, sipping at her water. “My pa died before I was born too.”

“Nice. I don’t actually know if my dad died but I’ve been in an orphanage since basically my birth. Joel is kind of like my dad except not, you know?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. You hadn’t really ever had a dad around so you couldn’t really relate.

“Not really but I’m glad you have someone.” You told her and she smiled brightly at you.

“I think now I have two someone’s.” You shared her smile a little reluctantly. Ellie was nice, you knew that made it hurt more when they didn’t want to be friends anymore.

///

“That girl, with the swearing? Is she in your class?” Your mother asked. You were stood at the sink, staring out at the back yard. Summer had come and the flowers you had planted in the spring were all in bloom. You were rather proud of them.

“Ellie?” You asked for clarification but you knew it could only be her. She had been at the Tipsy Bison with Joel for dinner and she had been swearing up a storm. “The new girl?”

“Yes, the new girl. Don’t be daft on purpose, it doesn’t suit you.” You ducked your head focusing on the warm water your hands were in. “Is she in your class?”

“There’s only one class, Momma.” You sighed and heard the sofa creak as your mother stood from her seat. You counted the foot steps it took for her to get to you.

“That sort of cheek is the reason you’ll never get past the gates of heaven.” Your mother snapped and you winced in preparation when she took a handful of your hair and pulled you towards the cupboard under the stairs. “I don’t know why I even try with you anymore. Get in there.”

The closet had gotten cramped with age but still you were supposed to fit in and pray for at least an hour when your mother got like this. She didn’t pray with you but she did expect you to pray out loud without any pauses or noises of shuffling around.

Your eyes would adjust in a few minutes and you would have to find a cramped position in which you could be comfortable because any sign of stiffness or soreness would be seen as a regret for having prayed and earn you another hour.

“I can’t hear you.” Your voice raised in level and you counted the prayers out on your fingers hoping you didn’t miss one. She wouldn’t tell you until after and you’d have to start all over again. Tears of frustration pricked at your water line and you did your best to keep your voice steady.

You hadn’t been cheeky. You were just answering her question. She was so convinced of your damned soul that she took any chance to try absolve your sins immediately after you had committed them. You weren’t sure why you weren’t able to go a day without sinning but you knew deep down your mother was right. You were awful and you would go to hell because you had been lying to her.

You and Ellie had been friends for weeks now and she had understood when you told her that your mother didn’t like you having friends. She never approached you outside of school when you were with your mother and it had turned into one of the longest friendships you’d ever had without her to get in the way.

So you prayed a little harder for your lies and begged god not to remove the first good thing that had happened to you in years.

///

“Joel is teaching me to play guitar.” Ellie told you quietly. You were supposed to be filling out your math worksheets together but both you and Ellie were very good at math and had finished them in the first five minutes. “He wanted to be a singer when he was younger.”

“Is he any good?” You asked, laughing at the idea of big Joel Miller singing the gospel music your mother played for you when she was in a good mood.

“I think so. He’s good at country at least. I don’t know about all those old pop songs that he sings while he’s washing dishes. He just looks and sounds stupid then.” Ellie told you with a grin and you laughed again.

“He seems really fun. Me and Momma don’t have fun like that.” You told her, hand reaching up to sooth your scalp that had been burning. Four times this week she’d dragged you by your hair to pray.

“I wish you could come over to our house. Joel could make dinner and you could see the garage. I basically live on my own.” Her chest puffed out and you were in awe. You’d like to live on your own you think.

“I wish I could too. I could see all your comics and posters.” You sighed wistfully and she bumped her shoulder against yours.

“I’ll just bring them all in one by one for you to see.” She promised and you smiled brightly at her, swallowing against the almost sick feeling you got in your stomach when Ellie was nice to you.

“I know you’re gonna say this is sappy but you’re my best friend, you know that?” You asked her and she laughed.

“I’m your only friend, Angel.” That nickname seemed like it was gonna stick. Ellie had chosen it when she asked why you always paused before eating your lunch. When you had explained that you were praying she had tagged you with the nickname despite your protests that you were far from an angel.

“You’re still the best.” You promised her and she laughed, resting her head on your shoulder for a minute before straightening up again. Ellie didn’t like saying sappy stuff so she chose to touch you in some way instead, it was how she showed she liked someone. “Yeah, I know. You love me too.”

She laughed and pushed you away but you noticed her cheeks turning pink and you knew you had hit the nail on the head. You were her best friend too. You’d never had that before.

///

“Momma?” You climbed the stairs slowly, surprised to not find your mother in the living room when you got home from school. There was no reply to your call and you found the bathroom door wide open along with your mothers bedroom door.

But yours was shut tightly.

You weren’t sure why your heart was pounding as you stepped closer to the door, your hand reaching for the door knob. You took a deep breath and turned it, pushing the door open.

Your room was destroyed, everything pulled out of place, all of your books open and tattered on the ground. Your dresser drawers were overturned on the ground with your clothes spilled everywhere. “Momma?”

She was sitting on the edge of your bed, just waiting and watching your reaction. You looked around again and then back to her for explanation. “Are you okay?”

Your stomach was sinking and your lungs were constricting. She knew something she shouldn’t know and you only had one secret when it came to your mother. There was only one you couldn’t share. Ellie Williams.

“You’ve been very careful.” Your mother noted casually. Like she wasn’t in the middle of your upturned room, like she hadn’t made this mess. “Not even a trace of her.”

Of course there wasn’t. She had wanted you to bring home some of her comics but you had denied her. All the little notes she had written you were tucked away in your workbook in class. You knew better than to think you had that level of privacy at home. “Trace of who, Momma?”

“Ellie Williams.” Her tone was cold and you stayed in the doorway, not daring to get any closer to her when she was like this. It was a long way down the stairs to the cupboard if she got your hair now.

“I don’t know what you mean, Momma.” Your voice shook and she laughed at you. You didn’t know how your mother made such an expression of joy manage to be the exact opposite, cold and unfeeling.

“If I didn’t know better then I’d believe you.” She said and you swallowed, looking around again like you had been careless enough to forget something. “But when Joel Miller approached me to ask could you have a sleepover, promised it wouldn’t interrupt your chores. I had to pretend to know that you’d been talking to his girl.”

You felt faint. Your hand reached out for the door frame to steady yourself when your knees buckled. You had been so careful but not careful enough.

Your mother lifted her hands and settled a long black belt over her lap, smoothing the leather of it with her index fingers. It was your belt and you suddenly had to fight the urge to vomit.

“I always knew your soul was damned.” She sighed like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. “But I never could’ve guessed to what extent. You’ve broken two commandments.”

“Momma, I didn’t.” You spoke quickly, fear pulsing adrenaline around your body. “I didn’t lie to you. I promise. I never told you that we talked because we sit beside each other in class. We aren’t friends, Momma. She just doesn’t understand that I have other priorities, Momma.”

The words burned you to speak them. It felt a greater sin to forsake Ellie’s friendship than to lie to your mother and when the tears pricked your eyes you knew it to be true. “I’m sorry, Momma.”

“You’ve just lied to me again, haven’t you?” She asked and you nodded slowly. There wasn’t a god on this world or the next that would have you deny Ellie.

“She’s nice to me, Momma. She doesn’t treat me mean the way everyone else does.” You explained through your tears. “I just wanted one friend. Just one.”

“You have one friend. The only friend you need. Jesus Christ who died for your sins.” Your mother stood and walked towards you.

“It’s not a sin to love Ellie, Momma. She’s my best friend.” Your mother froze in place, her eyes narrowed at you. You realized your mistake a second too late. “Not like that, Momma. We’re just friends.”

“Praying ain’t enough for you, child.” She handed over the belt and you stared at it in confusion. You had expected her to hit you with it. Maybe you were too harsh on your mother. “Go on, ten lashes.”

“You want me to-”

“Over your back. You’ll have to take your top of but self flagellation will work better than prayer. Don’t go easy either, if it don’t hurt it ain’t working.” She urged and you stared at her, bile crawling up your throat. “Come on now.”

“Momma, I didn’t do anything wrong.” You sobbed but she didn’t move, watching you with those cold eyes. “Momma.”

“Ten. I’ll count.”

///

“Dude, where the hell were you?” Ellie exclaimed when you took your seat next to her almost four days later. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you fought the hiss of pain, leaning into the comfort of her embrace.

You had suffered for this sin, you might as well commit it now.

“Got sick.” You explained and she let you go, looking you over. You knew how you looked. Your eyes were puffy and you were walking with a stiffness that came from being on your knees praying for almost three days straight.

“Damn, you look like hell.” She whispered and you couldn’t help the laugh. Hell was only the half of it. You had been through it all and back again in the last four days and you had made a decision.

You were choosing Ellie. No matter the pain or the punishment, you weren’t going to lose Ellie. You’d rather face an eternity of Hell in the afterlife than choose a moment without her in this one.

“I missed you.” You told her quietly and let your head rest on her shoulder. It pulled at your back but the comfort outweighed the pain you were feeling and so you didn’t move. “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” Ellie promised quietly, her head resting against yours. “And don’t be mad but Joel totally put his foot in it the other day. He asked you mom why you couldn’t sleep over. He didn’t know it was a secret.”

“Oh.” You tried to keep your voice steady. “She never said anything. Probably thought he had the wrong person.”

“Thats a relief. I didn’t want you to get in trouble over me.” Ellie sighed and the pair of you sat up when class began. Ellie kept her leg firmly against yours though and you were grateful for the comfort it offered.

When lunch came about Mrs Collins called your name and held you back while everyone else went to get food. You made you way up to her desk and she gave you a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You promised her. Your mother had told everyone that you had been sick. You weren’t sure why it wasn’t a sin when she lied.

“Your mother told me you got a pretty nasty case of food poisoning?” Mrs Collins asked and you nodded, wondering was this another sin to pray for. “She also made a strange request.”

Your heart dropped and you looked back over your shoulder to where Ellie was waiting for you in the doorway, her back to you both. “Please don’t.”

“You want to tell me why she wouldn’t want you sitting by Ellie?” Mrs Collins asked and you shook your head, tears in your eyes. “If Ellie is hurting you or being mean to you then you can tell me.”

“No. She’s my best friend. Please don’t. I’m not allowed see her outside of school.” You explained in a rush, knowing you shouldn’t be sharing this much.

“Okay. It’s okay.” Mrs Collins insisted and you wiped at your face to dry the tears you didn’t mean to shed. “You and Ellie can stay beside each other. I’ll tell your mother I separated you both.”

///

“Only two weeks left.” You and Ellie were sixteen now, sitting with your backs against the school house. Well, Ellie was sitting back, you were a little more mindful of how the rough stone might hurt.

“What are we going to do then?” Ellie still didn’t understand the extent of your reasoning for why your mother couldn’t see you both being friends. She thought that you were old enough now to just make your own decisions.

“Well we could work together right? Your mom can’t stop that. You have to work in Jackson.” That much was true but you knew Ellie wanted to patrol just like Joel did. She had the urge to always be trying to save the world and you knew your mother wouldn’t allow it.

“You want to patrol. I’ll probably end up a waitress or in the greenhouses.” You sighed and ran a hand over your face. Ellie laughed a little and reached for your hand, tangling your fingers together and you paused, staring at them.

Ellie was turning steadily red but she didn’t let go, she tightened her grip and tugged so you’d turn to look at her. “I do want to patrol. But I want to spend time with you more. I can clean dishes or something if needs be.”

You stared at Ellie, your head tilted slightly as you studied her. She didn’t hide from you but she was blushing fully this time. You stared a second longer.

Oh.

Oh.

“Ellie.” You sighed before laughing. She attempted to free her hand but you held on tighter. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“How?” She exclaimed and it seemed like she had been holding this in for a long time with how it burst out of her. “I know you’re like super religious and most religious people hate gay people and we’re best friends and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Ellie.” You laughed again before reaching out and clasping her face in your hands. You didn’t give her a second, pulling her in and kissing her firmly. “I would walk into hell gladly knowing that I’ve held heaven in my hands.*”

“Oh you’re so fucking gay.” Ellie laughed and kissed you again, her fingers tangling in your hair. Those words should’ve terrified you but you had come to terms with it years ago while you willingly took lashings for punishment. You knew you’d take any form of torture to get to this point.

“I can’t tell anyone. Not yet. My momma will find out but Ellie, I’ve got a plan.” You promised and she smiled, her hand moving from your hair to cup your cheek.

“I haven’t told Joel yet. It’s okay.” She promised, her forehead pressing to yours.

///

You’d had a plan. It had been a good plan. Your best plan yet. Your plan did not factor Ellie and her teeth into account. The small mark she had made, definitely an accident, had given you away. Your mother had always been more than suspicious of Ellie and it seemed that even though a small bruise could be from any number of things it only made sense that it was her when paired with swollen lips and a light in your eyes.

“No.” She held the belt out to you and for the first time you refused it, shaking your head and crossing your arms. Fire burned in your mothers eyes and her jaw clenched.

“You have sins you need to repent for. You’ll burn in hell.” She cautioned and you felt the tears finally fall from your eyes, your bravery slipping away.

“Momma I love her. I’ve been in love with her since before I knew what it was.” You sobbed and she looked even angrier if possible. “How can this be wrong?”

“No child of mine will embarrass me like this before God himself.” Your mother insisted and you lifted your hands in desperation. “I won’t stand for it.”

“What more can you do?” You asked her quietly, desperately. Your love for Ellie wasn’t a flaw and it couldn’t be a sin. You didn’t want to be fixed or cured or healed. Something that felt this pure couldn’t be anything other than a blessing.

“I told you. I won’t have it.” Your mother insisted and you stared at her, unable to understand her threat. “The Lord says suicide is a sin but surely he’d understand I just couldn’t be tainted by your sin.”

“Momma, don’t do that.” You couldn’t help your tears. “It’s not bad. It’s not!”

“It is and you know it. You wouldn’t have hidden it if you weren’t ashamed of your sin.” She told you and you choked back on your sobs. “You knew that you’d never be without sin but to go and do this. I knew since you were born that you were filled with sin but I didn’t think it was cause you were one of them!”

“Momma! You know I can’t change it. I can’t. I love her.” You were choking on the tears and she only shook her head. “You can’t do that, Momma. You can’t.”

“You want me to stay alive then you stop seeing her.”

///

“Hey Angel, you okay?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her before shaking your head.

“I can’t do this. I thought I could but I can’t.” Your back was raw from the amount of repenting you had required the evening before.

“Can’t do what?” Ellie asked, unsure.

“This. Us. I thought I could reconcile it but it’s not something I can allow myself to do.” You told her, tears already flowing down your cheeks.

“What? Allow yourself to what?” Ellie asked. “Be fucking happy?”

“I won’t be happy if I move out of my Momma’s. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her there.” You told Ellie honestly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise this before.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ellie stared at you, her face guarded like you were going to laugh and tell her it was a sick joke. “You are serious.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You wanted her to understand but she was too heroic. She would try help if she thought this wasn’t your decision.

“Yeah. So am I for not taking your fucking word for it the first day I met you. I should’ve sat with someone else.”

///

“Saw your girl started patrol today.” You looked up from the soapy water in the sink to where your mother was standing by the back door. You blinked at her, coming out of the daze you had been in. “That ain’t no job for a woman.”

She had been horrible the last few weeks. Telling you all about Ellie’s coming and goings when you refused to leave the house for anything other than work. Washing dishes down at the Bison. Everyone had to do their part, you hated doing yours.

It wasn’t a bad job per se. You could zone out and let muscle memory take over as you scrubbed the plates clean. No one talked to you much on account of your mother and it got you out of the house for a few hours every evening.

The problem was Ellie came to the diner every night with Dina and Jesse. She didn’t linger and you doubted that she even knew you were in the back. But you always found a second to pause when you heard her voice, as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

“You never had anything to say when any other women go on patrol. Maria’s been doing it since the walls went up.” Your head jerked back with her grip on your hair and her hand pressed to the spot between your shoulder blades causing you to hiss.

“I didn’t ask for your sass.” She warned and you blinked back tears from the pain. “I think you oughta get to praying.”

“I got work, Momma.” You told her and she gripped your hair tighter. Her hand dug into your back, nails pressing deep.

“Better go get the belt then if you’re in such a hurry.” Your mother spat and released your hair. “Every time you talk like that I get reminded that you’re a child of the devil.”

You had a hard time believing that having the devil for a mother would be any different than the Momma you had.

///

It was years before you saw the signs. You had turned twenty one under your mothers watchful glare. She threatened harm on herself if you so much as came home late from work. You wondered why you cared so much that she remained unharmed when you hadn’t been able to lie on your back for years.

It all became clear one night when you followed the noise of her downstairs. She was standing in the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Baby, what’re you doing up so late?”

She hadn’t called you Baby in years. Not since before you had met Ellie. She claimed that no baby of hers could be full of sin. “Just checking you’re okay, Momma.”

“I’m fine. Just a little lost.” She told you, an airy laugh on her lips. “I can’t find the bathroom.”

She was standing in a puddle.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Dealing with her was both harder and easier after your discovery. Maria let you stay home and care for her when you went to her and explained what was happening. There wasn’t exactly a nursing home you could send her to.

She began to pass through phases, a different version of your mother every time you talked to her. Sometimes you had your Momma back, a sweet woman who told you how pretty you’d grown to be. Sometimes you had your mother, the one who remembered Ellie.

Then one morning, the month you were turning twenty two, you had no mother. She had fallen asleep in her rocking chair and that was where you found her.

You sat with her for a long time. Just staring at her and wondered when it had gotten to the point that you stopped caring about her. Her death didn’t seem to have done anything besides giving you a sense of freedom you had only ever felt once before with Ellie’s lips on yours and her hands in your hair.

You found it within yourself to change her and wash her. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to do it. You laid her out in her own bed and then made your way down to the clinic to get a doctor to finally free you from her.

///

You had elected not to have a funeral service for your mother. You hadn’t even attended her burial yourself. No one had liked your mother, not even you. Maria had tried to sympathize with you but you hadn’t let her. She was the only one who tried.

You found yourself moving out of her house and into a small one bedroom cottage Maria had offered up. You returned to the Bison to wash dishes. You lived a boring life without prayers or belts or a constant ache on your scalp from having your hair pulled out by the root.

You could read books and leave the dishes overnight and play music that didn’t mention Jesus. Your back healed up but would forever be scarred but you knew without a doubt that your pain was at an end.

It had ended alongside her heartbeat and you knew for sure it was a bad thing to think but you no longer punished yourself for bad thoughts.

You no longer punished yourself.

///

A knock on the door gave you a pause and you looked up from your book to the living room window but you couldn’t see your front porch from the angle you were sat at. Just the pouring rain that had washed into Jackson a couple of days ago.

You pushed yourself up and answered the door, expecting Maria who came to check up on you monthly to make sure you hadn’t succumbed to madness while being so isolated.

It wasn’t Maria. It was Ellie.

She was soaked, rain water running down her hair and face into her clothes. You couldn’t say anything and chose instead to just stare at her as she left a puddle on your porch.

“Your mom died?” She asked and you marveled in how you had gone from speaking to her every day for almost four years to have gone longer without her words aimed at you.

“She did.” You answered slowly after a few minutes of just the rain for background noise. You continued to stare at her.

“I’m sorry.” You blinked, falling out of your trance at the condolences she offered. You folded your arms across your chest.

“What do you want Ellie?” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you didn’t want her apologies. You wanted her to leave so you could get on with your quiet life.

“I want to know if she was the reason.” Ellie stopped pretending the second you did, grim determination on her face.

“We were kids, Ellie.” You sighed and she wiped the water off her face and clenched her jaw. “You can’t be still thinking about it.”

“Still thinking about it?” She exclaimed. “I ain’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve spent the last six years wondering if your mom wasn’t around would we be together.”

“Ellie.” You sighed heavily, stepping back from the doorway. She looked panicked for a second and you opened the door wider. “Come in before you catch your death.”

///

You got Ellie clothes to change into and a towel to dry herself off. When she returned to your living room she was wrapped in your clothes, toweling her hair dry. You had lit the small fire in your living room and now you were standing by the window, watching the rain.

“I didn’t know she had died.” Ellie spoke quietly and you looked up at her, releasing a sigh. You took a seat on your sofa, inviting Ellie to sit next to you. “Maria mentioned it in passing while we were at dinner. I came straight over here.”

“She had dementia or Alzheimer’s. One of those. It was bound to happen.” You explained to her and she nodded slowly.

“I know you really loved her.” Ellie sighed and you turned your head to look at her.

“I didn’t. Not really. I had a really tough life with her.” You explained to Ellie and she nodded like she had always known that. She didn’t get to nod like that. She didn’t know the half of it. “I think she had her sickness my whole life. She was batshit insane.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Ellie asked and you shrugged. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been able to tell anyone. Mostly, you reasoned, you hadn’t known she was sick. How could you tell Ellie that you thought you were the problem? That you were so full of sin even your own mother couldn’t love you?

“It was my problem to deal with.” You told her honestly. “What are you really doing here?”

“To see if your okey. To see if there’s a chance we got it wrong at sixteen.” Ellie turned to face you, drawing her knees up to her chest. You couldn’t look at her.

“We?” You asked, picking at your nail beds and ignoring how close she was, how your body lit up in response.

“Yeah. We. You for calling it all off and me for letting you walk away.” You turned to look at her, incredulous. “I shouldn’t have given up.”

“That’s exactly what you should’ve done. Anything else would’ve made it so much worse.” You told her, pinching the bridge of your nose to ward off the headache you could feel coming.

“I could’ve helped!” Ellie insisted. “I could’ve given you the support you needed.”

“You couldn’t have made me straight!” You yelled, standing up from the sofa. You paced back to the window, staring out at the rain. “I needed to not be like this. You couldn’t have fixed that. She hated me.”

“She was your mother.” Ellie argued and you scoffed, fighting the urge to turn and look at her. “She had to have loved you.”

“She told me she’d kill herself if I went back to you.” You turned then, wanting to see the look in her eyes. The look of disgust because you gave in, you let her control you. But Ellie didn’t look disgusted, she looked horrified. “I came home one evening with swollen lips and this tiny mark on my jaw and she knew what we’d been doing. She told me that if I kept talking about loving you that she’d kill herself to not be stained by my sin.”

“She was sick. She didn’t know what she was-” your hand went to the hem of your T-shirt, pulling it up so that she could see your back. The criss cross of scars that overlapped. Years of torture and abuse. All of it culminating in this. “Angel.”

Ellie breathed that old nickname and you dropped your shirt but she caught it, having moved closer without your knowing. Her fingers ghosted over your skin and her breath came out shaky.

“When did this start?” Ellie asked and you laughed bitterly. “This isn’t a fucking joke. When did it start?”

“The day Joel asked for a sleepover. I told you she couldn’t know. I guess you just didn’t understand why.” She let your shirt drop and you turned around to find yourself face to face with her. “She told me that I was damned at five years of age. She used to make me pray in the dark for hours at a time. When I was twelve she made me hurt myself to repent for the sin of loving you. I never could. I repented for not being sorry instead.”

“I could’ve helped. I could’ve gotten you out.” Ellie sighed, her hand coming up to your cheek. You leaned into her and closed your eyes against the emotions that were welling up. “I could’ve fucking killed her for you.”

“I would’ve taken you up on that. Isn’t the awful?” You asked her but she shook her head, wrapping her arms around you. “I was so relieved when she died.”

“Guess I don’t have to feel bad for feeling the same way. I always knew it was her. Cause this, what’s going on with us, we might’ve been kids but I know what I felt, Angel. This was the real deal.” Ellie whispered against your neck and then you let it happen. You let the tears fall. You held her tightly and you sobbed for everything you could’ve had for the last six years.

///

You were sitting on the sofa, curled up against Ellie’s chest. Her hands softly stroked your hair and you were struck silent by the parallel of your mother doing the exact opposite, hurting you so violently.

“So you gonna cut me loose or keep me this time?” Ellie asked quietly. You looked up at her and without speaking cupped her cheek in your hand and pulled her down to your level. You pressed a sweet kiss to her lips and she smiled. “Not afraid of Hell any more?”

“If loving you leads me to hell then I’ll sit at the table with all the others who gave up the idea of an eternity of heaven for a short time with the true meaning of paradise.”

*Lyra Wren on tiktok

[hihomeghere]

Burning Love | John Marston/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : Set in the epilogue of RDR2. You stumble upon John in Blackwater after being alone for years. When he invites you to visit Beecher's Hope, will you be able to fight feelings that have been building ever since you were kids? (No Abigail and Jack, love them but you aren't in this episode) Warnings : Smut, cursing, unprotected piv, hickeys, oral reader receiving, just dirty idiots in love, reader has bio female parts

“John?” The word fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Here you were in Blackwater, a good six or seven years since that no good river boat business, and there in front of you was John Marston.

At least, he looked like him. His head snapped towards you, his dark eyes meeting yours. You swore your heart stopped, you raised your hand to cover it before sliding off of your horse.

“Y/n?” He sounded breathless, a small smile growing on his face as you started running towards him. You threw yourself into his arms, he laughed, spinning you around. “Holy shit it is you.” He said as your feet touched the ground. You looked up at his scarred face, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“John Marston.” You chuckled, unable to stop the grin spreading on your face. Tears welled up in your eyes which you quickly wiped away. God it had been years, ever since… well it had been years.

“It’s good to see you.” You chuckled lightly, punching his shoulder.

“It sure is good to see you, too. What the hell are you doing in Blackwater?”

“Well I don’t rightly know.” You shrugged, shaking your head. “I go wherever the wind takes me and it took me to Blackwater.” You said looking around the dusty street. He grinned, shaking his head slightly. His hair was shorter than before, light stubble covering his face. 

“Well if you don’t have anywhere else to go, would you like to come see Beecher's Hope?” He said with a nervous smile on his face.

“What’s Beecher's Hope?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“It's my place, somehow.” He laughed looking down at his boots.

“John Marston, homeowner?” You laughed, “Course I do!” He looked up at you, your stomach filling with butterflies as that boyish grin crossed his features.

“Well come on then!” He said, walking over to his horse. You followed him out of town, riding close behind him. It didn’t take you very long to make it to Beecher’s Hope. Well he was certainly hopeful to call it his home. It was barely a shack on a good piece of land, that was the best way you could describe it.

“Now I know it don’t look like much now.” He said, hitching up his horse.

“You’d be right.” You teased doing the same. 

“Now who’s there?” A voice called from inside the shack. Was that?

“It’s just me, Uncle.” John called, rolling his eyes. Uncle?

“Uncle! You get your lazy ass out of that shack right now!” You called jogging over to the ‘front door’

“Y/n? Well I’ll be!” Uncle said getting up from inside. You pulled him into a hug, glad to see the old man still kicking.

“Now this is how I should be treated, John, with respect.” Uncle said as he patted your back.

“She just called you a lazy ass!” John groaned.

“What are you doing hanging around this ruffian?” You teased, pulling away from Uncle’s embrace.

“Begged for my help, how could I say no?” Uncle explained, placing a hand over his heart.

“Bullshit! I never asked you for nothing old man.” John scoffed, shaking his head.

“Alright alright, I’m starving from my ride. You got anything I could cook up for us, John?” You asked, setting your hands on your hips. 

“Barely, we could probably hunt down a rabbit or two for dinner.” He sighed.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” You said walking back over to your horse. 

A rabbit or two turned into four between the two of you. Everything turned into a competition, it had been like that since you were kids. Let’s say Uncle wasn’t upset by your catch. You cooked up a nice stew for the boys before settling down for the night by the campfire. It all seemed too good to be true, being back with Uncle and John. You couldn’t lie that your heart skipped a beat every time you caught his eye. The alcohol definitely wasn’t helping with that. 

“It seems like yesterday we were sitting around a campfire just like this, listening to Javier play the guitar. Or having Hosea give us reading lessons.” You sighed bringing your bottle to your lips.

“Yeah, you were such a tattle tale.” John teased, the glow of the fire illuminating his face, casting dark shadows along his scars.

“Was not!” You scoffed, knocking back your drink. He laughed, loud and hearty. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, a blush settling on your cheeks. 

“Yes you were! Would always get me in trouble when I’d sneak off to the horses.” He shook his head a smile tugging on his lips

“That’s because Boadicea was gonna kick your head in one day, I was only looking out for you.” You snorted, nodding to yourself.

“She loved me.”

“You kidding?” You barked out a laugh, “She used to nip at you so hard you’d have teeth marks for weeks!”

“Well not everyone can be princess Van Der Linde.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“You were Dutch’s favorite long before I came around Martson.” You quipped, the alcohol easing the pain of past gang members. You both sat in silence, the crackle from the fire and far off yips from the coyotes the only sound, along with Uncle’s snoring.  

“Shit,” John sighed, “we got into a heap of trouble back then.” He grinned, bringing his bottle to his lips.

“Still do.” You added, leaning over to bump his elbow with your own.

“Still do.” He repeated, a small smile on his face. He looked at you from under the brim of his hat. You felt your face heat up under his gaze, instead of the growing fire.

“Why’d you even buy this land in the first place?” You asked, breaking eye contact as you looked around your makeshift campsite. The shack behind John, if you could even call it that, almost falling apart as Uncle slept. He sighed, staring into the cracking embers.

“Felt like I had something to prove, I guess.” He shrugged, “I never was very smart. Never had anything to my name. I had you at one point and screwed that up too.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“John,” You started, your eyes flickering up from the fire. A blush settling on your cheeks. You two had been sweet on each other before, honestly you had never stopped being sweet on him. But he wasn’t ready for a real relationship, and you deserved better than being drug along for nothing. 

“No,” He stopped you, his hand held up between you two. “You were the only thing that was good in my life and I pissed it away.”

“We were young, and for some reason I’m still following your sorry ass around.” You said, shaking your head. Refusing to meet his eye, you leaned forward with your hands resting on your knees. “You ain’t got nothing to prove, you’re a good man John Marston.” You said sparing him a glance. A soft smile graced his lips before he shook his head.

“Guess you ain’t too bad either, y/n.”

“Well that was never in question.” You said bringing the bottle back up to your lips, John let out a low chuckle. You both stared at the fire, it was easier than looking at each other.

“Will you-“ John started, his lip in between his teeth, “Will you stay with us here?” You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. You looked up, pretending to mull it over.

“Until a better offer comes along.” You shrugged, laughing as John shoved your shoulder.

“Don’t have to be such a smartass.”

“Oh I think I do.” You grinned, raising your bottle. He rolled his eyes, a playful grin on his face. “You’re smiling.”

“Am not.” He said turning away. You shook your head, staring down at the crackling fire. 

“What did you do for all those years, were you alone?” You asked, afraid of his answer. Although you couldn’t blame him if he hadn’t been, many nights you wished you had someone warming your bed, although it was always John you were dreaming of.

“Bounced around, ranch to ranch, just-“ he let out a long sigh, “Just trying to stay out of trouble.” You nodded looking up at him.“What about you?” He said, crossing his arms.

“Nothing really, hung low for a while, a year or two.” You shook your head, you honestly couldn’t remember what it was like in the early days. You had never been on your own before then, not that you could remember at least. “It was hard for a long time, but I had good teachers.” You smiled softly, feeling more melancholy the more you spoke. “Spent some of my time trying to make an honest living but you know how that goes.” You chuckled while taking a long drink from your bottle. 

“You can say that again.” John chuckled, “Did you have any fellas in that time?” He asked, shifting his eyes from the fire to yours. You tried hiding your smirk.

“Nah, none that piqued my interest.” You smirked, unable to keep it at bay.

“Well that’s good to hear.” He chuckled to himself, taking a drink.

“And why is that?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Could he feel the same about you? He went silent, lowering his head so his face was covered by the brim of his hat. He let out a dry cough, clearing his throat.

“Oh, well- I just mean-“ He sighed, you giggled softly looking up at him.

“John-“

“I’m a damn fool,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “I finally got you back and I’m too chicken shit to do anything about it.” He said, running a hand down his face. Your heart started to beat faster at his small confession. You set your bottle down, walking over to him. His wide eyes met yours as you sat yourself down on his lap.

“Good thing I ain’t.” You said taking his hat off and setting it to the side. You leaned forward, rubbing your nose against his. Your breaths intermingled as you looked into his eyes. He took the initiative, leaning forward and capturing your lips with his own. His arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, your clothed core rubbing against his crotch. You felt a moan rumble in his chest before it slipped out his lips. You smirked, your tongue swiping across his lower lip. He eagerly opened his mouth, his own tongue entering your mouth. He tasted like smoke and whisky, an intoxicating combination.

“Darlin, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He mumbled against your lips, before moving to kiss along your jaw. 

“I know John, god I’ve wanted you for so long.” You breathed, running your fingers through his dark hair. He latched onto your throat, sucking a spot that would definitely bruise. You let out a soft moan, gripping his hair tightly. He thrust his hips upwards against your clothed cunt, causing a higher pitched moan to leave your mouth.

“Shh, don’t want Uncle to hear us.” John said softly, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, he rubbed his thumb against your stomach. His movements shot straight to your core. You bit your lip to stop a whine, as you rubbed yourself against his growing bulge.

“Fucking take me and stop teasing.” You growled pulling him up to kiss him. He smirked against your lips, slipping his hands under your ass as he lifted you up in his arms. He walked you over to his tent, setting you down on his bedroll. You made quick work with the buttons on your shirt, working them through the eyelets. You pulled your arms out of your shirt, removing your cotton undershirt. You sneaked a peek at John, who was pushing his pants down. Your eyes raked over his body, his union suit leaving little to the imagination. You pulled off your pants, left only in your bloomers. 

“Fuck darlin.” John whispered his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer to him. He dipped his head to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. His other hand kneaded your breast. 

You laid your head back on the bedroll, a soft gasp exiting your mouth. He sat up, sinking his fingers into your bloomers before pulling them down. His finger dipped into your wet folds.

“Mmm,” You moaned, biting down on your lip. He smirked again, pushing his index finger into your warm heat. He pumped it in and out, his eyes never leaving your face as you fought the urge to moan. His thumb rubbed against your clit, making small circles on your nub. He added his middle finger, curling it inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head and the coil inside you tightened. Your nails dug into his arm, as your pussy clenched around his fingers. That familiar wave of bliss washing over you.

“Yeah that's right sweetheart.” John cooed, still pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

“John-“ You breathed pulling him closer, he removed his fingers sucking them clean.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He said as he unbuttoned his union suit. Pulling his arms out, as he pushed it down his thighs. Your eyes raked over his body, scars from bullet wounds and cuts littered his body. Your mouth watered at the sight as your gaze followed the patch of hair from his chest down to his pelvis. 

“Fuck me.” You huffed, propping yourself up on your elbow as your legs fell open.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, taking his thick cock in his hand. Pumping it twice before nosing his dick to your opening. He pushed himself into you slowly, a groan working its way out of his chest as he hung his head. “God damn you’re tight.” He hissed, his hands gripping your hips with a vice like grip as he slowly pushed his hips forward. 

“John.” You whined, gripping his forearms as he seated himself in you fully. You had never been so full in your life, he was so deep you swore his tip was kissing your cervix.

“I know darlin-“ He rasped, slowly pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. Your breath knocked out of your chest as he picked up the pace.

“Ah- oh John!” You yelped before his hand covered your mouth. He moved your leg to sit on top of his hips and he leaned forward, resting his forearms next to your head.

“Feel good?” He grunted, squeezing his eyes close as he let out a hissed breath. 

“Fuck- feels so good.” You whispered, tears starting to well up in your eyes. His hips met yours with every thrust, the sound of slapping skin filling the small tent. He grabbed one of your thighs, lifting it up onto his shoulder. You swore you saw stars at the new position. It had been so long since anyone had had you like this, and John was playing your body like a fucking fiddle. Every thrust punched the air out of your lungs as somehow he went deeper. 

“Shit darlin-“ He huffed, his hot breath on your ear as he bent over you, “Squeezing me so good.” He groaned, nipping at your ear.

“Oh- John I-“ You cried, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your toes were curling as the pressure built inside your stomach. 

“You close honey? You gonna come?” He cooed, kissing your neck, one of his hands moved down your body to your already sensitive bud. He flicked it once, maybe twice before your orgasm came crashing down. You mewled, trying to stay quiet as John wiped away your tears.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he strained his neck up. “Where do you want it?” He said as he sat up, still rutting his cock in and out of you.

“Inside.” You breathed, wrapping your legs around his hips as you pulled him closer.

“Oh- darlin I-“ He let out a low moan as he spilled inside of you, his hips twitching as he pumped his cum inside your heat . You let out a small sigh, letting your body go limp under him. He cradled your head in his hand, kissing you softly as he pulled his cock out of you. He sighed against your lips before laying down beside you. Pulling a blanket over both of your bodies. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him.

“I’m not letting you go this time.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. 

“Good.” You said holding his arm against you, as you drifted off feeling his cum trickle down your thighs.

-

“Jesus what is that mark on your neck?” Uncle said his hand resting on his hip as you blushed from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“Nothing.” you said quickly, covering your neck with your hand.

“Good lord is that a hickey!” Uncle said recoiling at the sight, “Now who the hell would give you…” He trailed off his gaze shifting to John who was drinking his coffee. 

“What?” John said, lowering the mug, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“Disgusting.” Uncle cringed walking away from the both of you back to the shack. 

“Just had to mark me up, now didn’t you?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked at John. He smirked shaking his head as he walked over to you 

“You’re mine, everyone should know it.” He shrugged, pulling you into a searing kiss. 

Maybe you could deal with a mark or two. 

[swanimagines]

SOMEONE TO BE SCARED OF | MORPHEUS

Summary: Your ex is an asshole. So Morpheus punishes him.

"If I can't have you, no one can."

That's what he had said when you broke up with him. Months of belittling and torment from the man you had foolishly started dating on Valentine's Day. He had felt like a dream, but by the end of February, he had turned to complete opposite of himself. His true self.

Morpheus had succeeded in talking you out of it, he had told you you deserve someone better - seeing how miserable you were now that he let you live on Earth with the man you claimed to love. Eventually, he saw what was happening, and you finally broke down in front of him when he visited your dreams. Morpheus managed to make you break it with your ex, and there, hell began.

Your ex's threat seemed just a childish outburst at first - but then it started turning into worse. Humanity showed its worse side to you. He came to your workplace, started spreading ugly rumors about you and even tried to attack you in broad daylight. You were scared for your life, you tried to go to the police and hide from him, but nothing seemed to work. He always found a new way to torment and bully you.

But without your knowledge, Morpheus had started to work on actions what he'll do to your tormentor for making you scared like that. He had cared about you for a long time, more than a boss should care about his employee. In a different way. He had changed a lot during his imprisonment, so much that he had eventually accepted your wish to live on Earth, he had let you to fall in love with someone else than him. Even through his jealousy. He felt like your current situation was his fault too - he should have checked the man's dreams, he would have found out his real nature from them. But he also knew it would have been creepy if he had done it. But he still should have known.

He was fixing that mistake right now. Your harasser would be left scared and alone, unable to get anyone else fall for him ever again.

"Who are you?" the man snarled the moment he saw Morpheus standing by his bedside. "Creep, get out of my house!"

Morpheus smiled, and the man got a look as if something snapped within him, as he lost all power over his own body. A partial sleep paralysis was an excellent way for things like these.

"I am someone you should be scared of," Morpheus replied. "You will leave everyone you torment alone."

Morpheus knew the man was desperately trying to find some way to escape, but he was glued into his bed, forced to watch Morpheus loom over him.

"I can make you suffer," Morpheus whispered. "Or you can end this here."

The man just stared at him, taking in short breaths.

Morpheus reached forward and grabbed the man's neck, squeezing it tightly until his eyes bulged out.

"This is what happens to men who mess with people who love them," Morpheus said softly. "You're a fool, you don't know any better. You think you can try to scare them?"

"No," the man finally squeaked. "No, I won't contact them anymore, please, I promise I won't."

Morpheus stared at the man, his eyes glowing brightly in the dark. "You won't. And if I hear you have, I will curse you with nightmares for the rest of your life."

With that, Morpheus was gone and the man was released from his paralysis, his heart pounding and sweat trickling down his spine. For a moment, he wondered if it was real or just a nightmare, but he definitely didn't want to find out. He got so scared that he dropped everything and moved out of town - and never again he mistreated anyone in his life.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[demonic0angel]

Random idea of Jazz and Jason living on a farm in the country together. Caring for the animals, making their own food, domestic sunsets on the porch.

(*starts tap dancing in joy* this got very long lmaooo)

Jason stared into the horizon, as the sun began to set, casting the world into golden yellow and fire red hues. He was still standing, just holding his scythe in one hand as he heard the rustle of wheat behind him.

Jazz stood next to him, watching the sky alongside him before she turned and leaned against his shoulder. "You shouldn't stare into the sun."

Jason hummed. He wrapped an arm around her and finally peeled his eyes away from the approaching nightfall. He kissed her forehead and said, "I know. Shall we go inside?"

She nodded and they walked together back to their home, a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. A barn and a mill were also nearby, providing them with more food. They were surrounded by fields on two sides, a large stretch of forest on the other, and a river weaving in between. Shadow was waiting for them at the door, their tail wagging as it watched them approach.

Jason closed the door when they were all inside, locking the several chains and deadbolt locks. Jazz closed all of their windows and blinds. Shadow disappeared in and out of their namesake, hopping in every dark corner of their home before coming back, confirming that it was safe and locked tight.

When they were done, Jazz pushed him to his seat and began dishing out food. He smiled at the sight of her bringing out the pheasant he had hunted on a plate, before she brought bowls of soup and bread over.

"Has anything happened while I was taking care of the fields?" He asked.

Jazz paused and then nodded. "Yes. I saw a straggler, so I killed them before anything could happen. They were in the woods, and I think they were alone, but I can't guarantee it."

Jason's heart sped up a beat at the thought of Jazz being alone while a straggler had been far too close to them, before he took a deep breath and calmed down.

"Alright. If that's true, we should comb through the woods one more time to make sure it's clean. I don't want anything to ambush us."

Jazz nodded. He reached over to brush her hair from her face and lay a kiss on her forehead. She smiled and he relaxed at the happiness on her face before they both went back to eating.

"What about you?" She asked. "How's the fields? And livestock?"

"Our chickens are doing well," he said thoughtfully. He looked down at his food and praised, "You've outdone yourself again, princess. This tastes amazing."

Jazz beamed again. Jason continued, "I think we have enough food to last us awhile. I'm not sure what winter is going to look like, but when we investigate the woods, we can look into the nearby towns and see if there's anything left to salvage."

Jazz nodded. Then she began slowly, "By the way... about Alfred..."

Jason paused, eyes wide. He looked at her and her expression was worried. "What about him? Did he get out? Did he do something to you?"

Jazz looked at her soup, mostly watery with carrots and potatoes and the barest amounts of herbs. "... he spoke to me today. He called me Miss Gordon."

Jason couldn't help his intake of breath and the hand reaching out to cover his mouth. "What?! But— But isn't he supposed to be..?!"

She nodded quickly. "That's what I thought too. But I think, he's either starting to remember things and might've recognized my hair or... or he's learning to imitate human speech." She winced from her words, but Jason didn't really notice.

He was thinking of the possibilities.

Ever since that faithful day, it had only been him, Jazz, and Shadow all on their own. Shadow had helped them both get away from the chaos and deaths, but they were pretty much isolated. All they knew was that the entire world had gone to shit and no one could reach them.

He had no idea if his family or friends were okay. Not even Jazz could reach out to her own family. She had no idea what was happening, and all they had was each other.

Things hadn't really changed even when Alfred had stumbled onto the slice of paradise and peace Jason had carved out for himself and Jazz. They had to lock him in the basement, but since there was nothing they could do about his condition, this was their only way of handling it without killing him for good.

Jason focused back on Jazz, who was nearly wilting from some misplaced sense of guilt. He reached out again to hold her hand, squeezing as he said, "I don't blame you for anything, Jazz. No matter what he says... protect yourself first, okay? Your safety matters most to me. I think for now, let's just continue observing him."

She nodded. Jason turned to Shadow and asked, "Hey, could you keep an eye on Alfred for me? If he does anything or gets out, wake us up."

The ancient looked up and nodded, and that was settled. Dinner continued in quiet chatter as the tension eased, and eventually they prepared for bed.

Jason had never expected to live such a strange life of domesticity.

As night fell and Jazz slept in his arms with her long limbs wrapped around him like an octopus, Jason could not help but marvel at the situation, in a house with the woman he loved, peaceful and without any heroics, with his grandfather in the house somewhere too (although Alfred was not really the same.)

Even if the world was ending, with the people he loved most around him, Jason did not feel worried.

His eyes began to droop.

Soon, he too fell asleep. As the world around them continued to move, Jason felt secure in his bed with Jazz in his arms and Shadow curled up by their feet.

The earth would continue spinning.

[taintandviolent]

bend without breaking ; Jimmy Darling x reader

summary and word count: 4.4K! requested by @sugarr-and-spicee. you get jealous of Maggie Esmeralda, and decide to give Jimmy a taste of his own medicine. Angst, smut and a little fluff ensues.

w a r n i n g s: contortionist!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, angst, jealousy themes, rough sex, alcohol mention, clunky writing, uhhhhhhhh Jimmy being real handsy and kinda' manhandling reader a bit. maggie esmeralda hate.

a/n: written partially at work, so if it's clunky or disjointed I apologize!! divder by cafekitsune!

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here!

It's not like you owned him or anything. It's not even like he really even cared about you outside of the scope of the general, amiable 'member of the troupe' kind of relationship. Now, of age, he flirted with you casually, like he did all the girls, but you, as delusional as it may have been, thought you had something special – because boy, oh boy, did you care about him. You were obsessed with Jimmy Darling, in all ways possible. 

You'd grown up alongside him, from the age of sixteen when you got kicked out for a plethora of reasons, and ran away to the traveling freak show that was opportunely in town. It had taken the owner, Elsa Mars, almost all day to be convinced, but when you bent over backwards, putting your head through your legs and pleaded with her upside down, a sly smile spread across her thin, aging lips.

You thought that Jimmy might’ve fancied you – that was until Maggie came along. The liar. The fraud. The insolent little brat that she was. She’d taken a liking to Jimmy, and seemed to snatch up every second he was alone – something that you used to do. He had fallen for her fortune teller act, but you certainly hadn’t. Your aunt had been a fortune teller and had possessed a true and genuine gift. This broad did nothing but spin silly little tales about misfortune and good luck, generic things that any person could identify with. 

You’d decided to test the waters one hot summer afternoon. It was before the show, and Jimmy was preoccupied setting up the cash box. With your skirt in your hand, swishing it back and forth, you strolled up to him feeling as giddy as ever. It was rare that you didn’t feel bubbly when you were around him – he had that effect on you. Before you spoke, you took in his appearance; a sheen of glistening sweat covered his bare, tanned shoulders, his caramel-coloured locks hung in a cluster on his forehead, and his dark, brown eyes swept over the cash as he counted it, arranging the tickets neatly next to the box. 

“Hey Jimmy,” you cooed. “Need any help?”

Without looking up, he replied: “Nah, doll. I’m just about finished.” 

“Well, maybe I could help you with whatever you’re doing next…” 

“If I need ya’, I’ll find ya, sweetheart.” 

“Or you could find Maggie.” 

“She’s in her trailer.” 

Your heart quivered and sunk, cracking like a delicate porcelain vase. He already knew; he’d already found her. 

“Of course she is, and of course you’d know that.” 

He grinned crookedly, exhaled out of his nose and shut the cash box, turning the key. He looked at you then, with a pointed gaze. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean? Huh?” 

Your brows rose high on your head, feigning innocence. He, of course, with all his charm and wit, saw right through it. You didn’t care. “Oh, nothing , Jimmy. Nothing at all.” 

“Sure, dollface, sure. You wouldn’t be jealous, now would ya?” 

“Of her? I’d be more jealous of a drowned rat in a sewer than I would be of Maggie.”

With that, you stomped off, your steps crunching the tall grasses that covered the field you called home for this month. Your heart was pounding, your cheeks had flushed. Feeling like a fool, you marched right to your trailer, taking great care to slam the door as hard as you could. 

You spun around, facing the door as thought he was behind it. “How dare he think I’m jealous of her ! That horrible woman, and he thinks – oooooh! ” You clenched your fists, shaking them at the door. 

It had taken you two hours to calm down. Two hours of pacing your small bedroom, fussing with your appearance and reading a magazine you’d picked up in town last week. It also took you two hours to come up with what you thought was the revenge plan of the century. 

An hour later, you found yourself at the local diner, schmoozing with a cute young man in his early twenties. You’d batted your fluffy lashes and pouted your lips and with hardly a few words, you had him wrapped around your manicured finger. He’d bought you a milkshake, which you were nursing, taking small sips in between answers.

“You’re sure you won’t run out of this diner screaming?” 

“No - no. I promise I won’t.” 

“I’m a travelling performer… I’m only here for a few more weeks. I work at the Freak Show in the field down the road.”

“What do you do?” He asked, cautiously, looking you over your body with a suddenly very critical eye. To most, you looked normal . Sure, you were a little longer and lithe than some girls your age, but you didn’t fit the bill of a freak. That was until you bent and contorted your body into the most mystifying, inappropriate positions that they had ever seen a woman in. 

“I’m a…” you leaned in, dipping your chin to your chest, keeping your gaze sternly locked on his. “A… contortionist.” 

“A what?” 

Oh, what a dumb bunny . He was cute, you’d give him that; his pretty, sea-blue eyes, pink lips and dirty blonde hair that had been perfectly styled. The clincher was that he had two very nice hands – strong, and veiny. The truth of the matter was that you preferred Jimmy Darling’s hands – but he didn’t need to know that. To him, this would be a threat, and if everything went according to plan, Jimmy would be red with anger, furiously jealous and looking as though he must bust a vein. 

“I’m flexible. Very flexible.” 

His eyes lit up. It was a predictable response, and one you’d seen before. Men were grotesque, they liked the idea of bending a woman into unique positions like a jointed doll, just to see her body in a fresh, new way. They liked the thought of fucking you while you were bent over backwards, folded up neatly. 

The waitress brought your food; you’d only ordered a side of fries, which you dipped into the remainder of your shake. A habit that you’d learned from Amazon Eve – it was easily the most delicious combo you’d ever tasted. As you two ate, the conversation drifted naturally. You laid on the charm heavy. Every other response contained a compliment, telling him how handsome he was, how you’d never seen a boy as cute, so on and so forth. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. And you. 

Afterwards, he paid and held the door open for you. As any gentleman should, he wasn’t earning any points with you. Only one man could… 

“Can I come see your show?” He asked, playing idly with your fingers.

You reached over and yanked one of the flyers from the nearby telephone pole, folded it in fours, and pressed your lips to the paper, leaving a crimson mark. You tucked it in the man’s shirt pocket. 

“See you tonight. Tell ‘em that I sent you. Front row seats.” 

He stammered out an agreement, looking flustered. With a wink, you were sauntering back down the sidewalk. The great big sun, orange and warm, was making its heavy, tired descent back into the horizon, and you quickened your pace. The last thing you needed was Elsa being upset at your disappearance.

As you made your way back to the field, you hummed the song that was playing in the diner and skipped. There was something to be said about the butterflies in your stomach, though you couldn’t discern whether or not they were for the fact that you were going to see that man in the audience. You suspected not. Jimmy Darling would be jealous and that was the thought that sent you. 

Later that night, as the calliope played, your hands glided up over the curves of your thighs, and over your sides, gracefully, like a burlesque performer teasing a reveal. With one movement, you brought your leg up to your head, pulling it tight. A few oooh’s and chortling chuckles from men in the audience dotted the room. With floaty, delicate movements, you slid down into the splits, never losing your bright smile in the process. More pleased reactions and some applause. You crossed the stage in backbends, working the crowd as they cheered for you. 

At the final backbend, you sunk to your stomach, laying on the floor. You were just nearly at the edge of the stage, and directly in front of you was your diner boy. His eyes were locked on you, enchanted, enrapt and obsessed like a dog staring at a fresh cut of sirloin. With a come-hither smile, you reached out and swept your hand along his jawline before tapping his chin with a single finger. You sucked in a deep breath and brought your legs forward, curving your spine around until your feet were planted on either side of your face. 

The crowd gasped in horror, and little girls shielded their eyes, expecting to hear the dull crack of your spine as it snapped in two. But Diner Boy was fascinated, and still staring at you. He was looking at your body, the unnatural curve of it, and the way that you’d brought your cunt somehow closer to his face. As the seconds passed, he looked more and more like a dog to you, hungry and slobbering. 

You smiled, scanning the crowd again. Your eyes drifted to the corner of the stage, where Jimmy stood against one of the support poles, arms crossed. At least, despite Maggie, he’d retained his habit of watching every performance you did – though this one, he didn’t look as delighted with. You could tell by the way the corners of his mouth were pointed down in an angry frown, his eyes narrowing at the little things you did to entice Diner Boy. You grinned at Jimmy, acknowledging him and tapped the toes of your shoes childishly against the stage before unfolding your body again. 

The rest of your show finished without a hitch, and Diner Boy played his part very well. He took in every moment, and at one point, when you reached your hand out to him, he interlaced his fingers with yours. A nice touch. When you looked back to where Jimmy was, he was gone. You smiled inwardly, prideful and gratified by the way your devious little plan had gone.

As soon as you went off-stage, Jimmy grabbed you by your arm, gripping your bicep hard. Almost too hard. You winced. “What was that about?” 

“What? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Casually, you yanked your arm from his grip and began to polish your nails on the fabric of your shirt. 

“Cut it out! You know what. Who was the guy in the audience? You sure were payin’ him a lot of attention.” 

His words, though loud, were a little slurred, his breath smelled of alcohol; you could tell that he'd taken a few gulps of liquid confidence before approaching you. You didn't mind; your father used to say that the truth came out with booze. You hoped that would remain true with Jimmy and he'd spill his guts to you.

“Just someone I met at the diner, Jimmy. Why are you getting so heated over him? You flirt with girls in the audience all the time.” 

“It’s part of the act, doll! You know I have to act a certain way, I can’t –” 

“Can’t what? Stand to love me?” 

Jimmy stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging slack. His chest rose and fell with hot, angry breaths.

"Just because I can bend without breaking doesn't mean my heart can, Jimmy."

“Dollface, wait.” 

“No.” 

You pushed yourself through the flaps of the tent, storming off towards your trailer. Jimmy followed close behind, calling your name.

“Doll, c’mon, hang on a minute!” 

“No, Jimmy. Maybe Maggie can hang on a minute .” 

“Hey!” He bellowed, catching your arm again. You pressed your back against your trailer’s door, again, yanking it away from him and crossing them tightly across your chest. Your heart thudded against your ribs, deeply delighted at the fact that he was chasing you, pursuing you with an overbearing jealousy. 

“What.” 

“Can we just…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “...talk about this a second?” 

“Sure.” You snapped. 

Jimmy’s black coffee eyes scanned over you, searching your face for some semblance of softness. He found nothing but a tightly pressed line of lips and a cold gaze.  

“What’s your problem, huh? I can’t flirt with other guys?” you finally asked, your stern voice shattering the awkward silence. 

He shook his head, almost sheepishly. “I don’t like seein’ it. I know they don’t care about you.”

“And you do?” 

Jimmy swallowed again, forcing the lump in his throat down. For the past several years, you’d been a constant in his life, by his side, and taking all his showman flirtations in stride. You’d never once fired back at him, and he thought that it was because you could care less about what he did or who he flirted with. Against the voices in his head, Jimmy pacified the anger in his gut by leaning forward to crush his lips against your red ones, tasting the sweetness of whatever gum you’d been chewing before the show. 

He lingered there a moment before his conjoined digits made their way up your waist, gripping it softly. He waited for you to soften, to ease into his kiss, but you didn’t. You stood your ground, arms still pressed against your breasts. You intentionally filled your mind with thoughts of Maggie Esmeralda and how close he’d gotten with her. You thought of all the times that he flirted with girls in the audience, damn near kissing them with how far he’d lean off stage during his song. 

“Baby, please…” You blinked. His low, smooth voice pulled you out of your hateful thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, you murmured, “I want to hear you say it, Jimmy.” 

“Say what?” 

“You know what.” 

The muscles in his jaw fluttered as he clenched them, grinding his teeth hard. Jimmy spent his whole life being put on the spot, but it never got any easier. Especially not in front of you – the girl he’d fallen hardest for. He inhaled, puffing his chest out and mustering up all the confidence he had. 

“I don’t like seein’ you flirt with other guys… ‘cause… I wish it was me.” 

“Who’s jealous now, huh?”

“I am.” He looked at your lips, then back up to your eyes. A cricket started off somewhere in the field, and your attention flitted off towards it, only to have Jimmy’s large, warm hand bring you back. “Hey.” 

He kissed you again, his strong tongue darting out to taste you again, his plush lips closing around your bottom lip to suck it gently. This time, an undulating warmth erupted deep in your core. You couldn’t help but melt into him and your arms relinquished their position, dropping heavily to your sides. Your fingers reach forward to claw at his shirt, just above the waistline of his jeans and instead latch onto his belt loops, pulling him closer at the hips.

You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, swirling your tongue with his. Mingled with his personal taste, he tasted like warm honey and the liquor you smelled on his breath earlier. Not always admirable, it was something that you knew him to dabble in when his mother wasn’t looking. More often than not, he’d sneak some booze, saying it calmed his nerves before and after shows. You didn’t mind; in fact, you wondered what it would be like to have a drunk Jimmy, sloppy and unable to control himself around you. 

“I’ve waited a long time for this…” you broke the kiss, breathlessly whispering over his lips.

“Me too, honey. Me too.”  

Keeping your eyes on him, you blindly felt behind your back, where the handle of your trailer was digging into your soft flesh. You yanked it open, and took a fistful of Jimmy Darling’s shirt, tugging him inside. 

It was like someone had fired a gun and Jimmy was a racehorse. He charged at you, his big, conjoined fingers wrapping tightly around your hips on either side, kneading the flesh like dough. He kissed you again, hot and in a hurry, like you only had a few minutes to do whatever it was you were going to do. With your hands on his pectoral muscles, you pushed him off gently, just enough to get a look at his face. 

He, being mere centimeters from your breasts, wasn’t looking at your face. His attention was clearly elsewhere. A low, rumbling groan vibrated through his throat as he craned forward to kiss your skin. 

“Jimmy, baby, slow down…” 

Between feverish kisses to your neck and chest, he muttered: “I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

He had you where he wanted you, after so long, and he wasn’t going to let that slip through his fingers this time. Jimmy muscled you backwards, urging you towards the small hallway where your bedroom was. He was all hard-working muscle. Having done set-up for so many years  had lined his body in bulky strength, the kind of strength that you only get from hard labour. So, when he started guiding you backwards, you could do little to protest. 

“Jimmy, my god, what’s the rush?” 

“I want you bad, baby… bad.” As proof, he urged his hips against yours; the hot rigidness of his erection pressing into your hip bone. You let out a surprised mewl, and wrapped your arms around his warm neck, fingers slipping into his short-cut hair. His lips found yours again as the backs of your thighs hit the mattress. He kissed once and playfully, shoved you down. You bounced twice on the bed, looking up at him with a heavy, wanton gaze. 

“I’m all yours, Jimmy Darling. All yours.” 

Jimmy didn’t say anything, just sunk to his knees, his hands finding the stretchy hem of your sequined shorts. He pulled them down in a swift jerk, before moving right back up to your waist. Those striped tights were next. He rolled them down off your thighs and over your knees; which fell apart, exposing the already-damp satin of your underwear. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him as he worked.

He was in too much of a hurry to bother taking off your shirt, instead just gathering the fabric and pushing it up over your breasts, letting them bounce free. He may have been raised a gentleman, but he wasn't immune to the tantalizing sight of some tits -- especially when they belonged to a girl he'd been lusting over for months now. 

"God damn, baby. Look at those." 

You couldn't help but blush, feeling your cheeks grow hot at his compliments. You bowed your head, casting your eyes to the floor. You were so stern before -- what had happened? Silly question. You knew; he was undressing you in your trailer, all that confidence had melted away underneath his strong, fused fingers.

“Jimmy, promise you won’t flirt with Maggie anymore…” 

He scoffed. “She’s nothin’ to me, honey. Gals like her are a dime a dozen.” He pressed his lips to your kneecaps before kissing his way up your thighs.  You whimpered, your head lolling heavily back between your shoulders. You thought about revealing that she wasn’t a real fortune teller, but Jimmy’s mouth neared your cunt, and the thought disintegrated. 

“...my god…” you breathed, your lids drifting shut. Jimmy nuzzled his face and lips against your soft mound, the hard bridge of his nose teasing at your soaked slit.

“You like that, baby?” 

You nodded, again, whimpering. He pressed his fingers slowly against your soft mound, over the fabric. Feeling the puddle that had settled into your underwear made Jimmy clench his teeth, hissing loud through them. With one hand, Jimmy maneuvered your underwear down your thighs. Once they were off, he tossed them carelessly behind him – you’d find them a day later in your kitchen sink. Now exposed, you gazed at him sheepishly, for the first time since he'd started kissing you. His eyes fixated on the wetness that glistened in the low-light of the trailer.

"I had no idea..." he said, the pad of his thumb sweeping over your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe in lustful agony, aching desperately. 

"No idea what?" You breathed.

"To be honest with you, that you liked me that much..." 

You leaned forward, taking his chin into the palm of your hand. You stroked it gently, falling deep into his eyes. "Jimmy... I've wanted you since before I could have you." 

You looked on at his face in admiration as the thoughts played out, the realization of what you meant dawning on him. He grinned his bright, lopsided grin and his large hands slid up your legs, caressing the outside of your thighs thoughtfully.

"Baaaby," he hummed before dipping his head down. You gasped, your lids drifting shut in ecstasy as you felt his breath rush over you -- you knew what was coming; one deep sweep of his tongue along the length of your cunt, between your folds to taste you, to savour your silken wetness. Burying his nose in your pussy, Jimmy alternated between using the strong tip of his tongue to flick at your sensitive spots and lapping at your clit with a flattened, thick tongue. Adventurous and hungry, he'd venture further down to get a mouthful of your sweet, heady wetness and would murmur how good you tasted into your cunt -- the vibrations of his voice made you shiver every time. 

After a few minutes of this, you felt the inner core of your legs begin to shake every time he made contact with your clit, your tummy tightening in a warning clench. You reached forward, gripping his head on either side, yanking him softly off your cunt.

To your relief, he straightened up, chin glistening with your fluids. He swallowed you down, growling in satisfaction; the intimacy of tasting your lover's ejaculate was unparalleled, and when your eyes finally opened, they met Jimmy's lust blown ones. He was ready, and so were you. 

"Fuck me," you said, nodding. 

Jimmy made quick work of undressing, pulling his briefs down over his ass cheeks before he lined his red-tipped cock up with your leaking slit, bumping into the sensitive bundle of nerves a few times before he stuck you. He didn't ease in, just bottomed out and you let out a pleasurable yowl, tossing your head back at the sensation of being so full as his thick cock violated you, slipping against your slick walls. He found a rhythm, thrusting his cock up into you as deep as he could. You clenched hard around him, pulling a groan from deep within his chest. He pulled out, looking down at your sopping wet and now reddened cunt.

"'Hoh' my god, baby... do that again." 

He gripped your hips hard, pulling you roughly onto his cock. You clenched again, swallowing him into you. The tip disappeared inside you, hot and leaking, and he held himself there, completely engrossed in the sensations. You clenched again, pulling him further in and Jimmy's head fell back, his hips bucking hard out of instinct. You both found a hurried rhythm, grinding and rolling against each other with voracious desire. 

As he thrust into you, Jimmy watched you intently, holding onto you tight, his thumbs working your hips, kneading them in small circles. He looked starved for your image, the way that his eyes climbed from your hips to your breasts to your face and back down again. You let out a particularly ecstasy-ridden moan, and Jimmy dug his fingers into your hips. 

Rocked back and forth with the strength of his thrusts, you look down, watching as his thick cock pumped in and out of you. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, and Jimmy's dark eyes followed them as they moved.   

"Huuuh... I'm gonna' lose it, baby... you feel so god damned good..."

"Give it to me," you coax, moaning deeply. His thrusts get faster, more feverish and uneven, and before you can say another word, his expression contorted, brows pulling together in pleasured agony. You felt the warmth of his cum as he filled you up with a few spurts, but kept pumping until it leaked out the sides, groaning deeply. Your orgasm raced towards you quickly after that, pulsing around him in a hungry grip. 

With a heavy sigh, Jimmy pulled his softening cock from your cunt and flopped heavily onto the bed onto his back. Your chest rose and fell with every laboured breath, sweat streaming from every pore. Both of you, collapsed in lust, saying nothing, just enjoying the warm scent of sex that lingered in the air. Soon, your sappy gaze drifted from the ceiling to Jimmy. His fawn coloured hair clung to his forehead in sweaty clumps, his cheeks flushed. You'd done that. Made him jealous until he fucked you silly. You smiled inwardly, and adjusted your head on the small mattress. 

"Turn the fan on, Jimmy, it's hot." 

Jimmy leaned over, flipping the small metal switch. The fan rattled to life, blades spinning and washing your sweaty skin with a soft breeze of cooler air. He leaned back, enjoying the change in temperature. 

"I meant what I said, dollface. Maggie's nothin' to me now that we're uh..." 

You pressed your lips against his softly, smiling into the kiss. "We're what?" 

"Y'know..." 

"Fucking each other like teenagers?" 

"More than that, baby. More than that."

You weren't sure what that meant yet, but you weren't about to question a bit of it. You paused, furrowing your brows. You realized that Diner Boy had probably expected to see you after the show, but you hadn't shown. You hadn't even thought about him, far too busy with Jimmy's lips to even remember he was there.

"What?" Jimmy asked, concerned.

"I wonder if he was waiting for me..."

"I hope he was, and I hope he figured out real quick that you weren't comin'."

You kissed him again, inhaling his scent. Jimmy hummed into your lips, pulling you atop of him, his face bright with adoration.

He stayed in your trailer that night, and you two fucked each other, explored each other's bodies repeatedly. When the morning sun peeked through your lacy curtains and your lids peeled apart, a yawn ripping through your mouth... you wondered if Maggie Esmeralda saw that coming.

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [1] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader (this chapter); seonghwa x reader; 10.6k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping references, emotional turmoil

You keep your head down, grip tightening as you make your way through the marketplace. Conversations are hushed, eyes warily rolling over your figure. It's enough of an irritant for you to pull your hood over your head. It's easy to spot strangers around here. Unfortunately, you are still one. Despite your relationship with Soobin, none of them have treated you as part of the community. And it’s not as if you haven’t tried. Inviting them over to your shared apartment, greeting them each time you passed by. All of it was met with blank stares, scowls curving their lips. You're sure if you strained your ears enough to listen you'd hear side comments about you; how you don't belong, how you've brought the faeries into the city. None of it is true of course, you stepping foot into town and the sudden disappearances happening at the exact same time are just coincidences.

It's what you hope, at least.

"Hiding in plain sight?"

You step into his shop, catching him placing a book lightly on the shelf. He glances at you, a soft smile on his lips. He steps around the counter and despite the now leaning stack of books in his hands, he leans around it to press a light kiss to your lips, then your forehead. It eases your anxiousness briefly, your hood slipping off your head as you lean against the counter. In moments like this it reminds you of what you’re here for, why you tolerate the silent isolation they give you. If it weren’t for Soobin you would have left town long ago.

"Think it'll keep their eyes off of me?" You murmur. He sends you a sympathetic look, enough for you to think otherwise. You sigh, pulling at loose strands. "I know I know, long shot.”

“They will learn to love you as easily as I have,” he moves back in front of the shelf, glancing at the titles before placing them in the correct spots. “I know that their words are alarming, but you moving in with me has no effect on the town disappearances. Some people just don’t find their way home,” he shrugs, watching as your eyes narrow. “It’s the truth!”

“Bin, they won’t accept me until the people are found. You know that.”

“Then we wait until they are found, y/n. Don’t worry yourself over things like this. It’ll be fine.”

You nod only to calm him down for the moment, your thoughts otherwise. From what you hear, faeries haven’t been seen around this town in decades, most targeting the large metropolitan areas rather than cities with populations in the lower thousands. Interestingly enough, despite your move from the city to here, you have yet to spot one faerie folk. Unlikely that you would. Though, you do hear the older residents speak of them.

The Fae folk are often mischievous, luring their victims into the thickened woods with soft words, tempting sounds. The Rowan trees at the edge of town are often the type of forestry that they reside in, stealing unsuspecting people from their lives. You’ve avoided the path since you’ve learned of it. Moreso now due to the vanishings. Who would have known that the tales of the past were riddled with truth? It only unsettles you more, knowing that there’s other things out there not yet discovered. But still, the information on the Fae is limited. All you’ve found is minimal, unimportant. No human has yet to figure out a way to stop them entirely – or if they are even real at all. There’s a myth that four-leaf clovers stop them in their tracks, so you see the paintings across every part of town. It has done nothing to stop the disappearances. The attempts are all in vain.

What is known is that you do not pray in circumstances like this. The ones that will listen are not who you would like to grant your wishes. You were never religious, your upbringing leaning towards a more lax nature. But even you think that you should keep the missing in your thoughts. At least enough to hope they return safely. You doubt it's the mysterious unseen faeries, but you can't help but try and aid somehow.

“How’d the interview go?” He asks, grabbing your attention.

You slowly sink into one of the seats. “Remember when you told me Ben and you were friends? And that he’d go easy on me?”

He groans. “What did he do?”

“Told me that he’s only doing this interview for you and shut the door. Loudly by the way, then I left. I’m pretty sure he lit some type of spiritual incense to get rid of my bad energy.”

“It’s not that. You know that.”

“Well, I did,” you murmur. “Not so sure anymore. It’s fine, don’t worry too much about it. I’ll get over it.” You strongly do not think you’ll get over it, but you just hope that the thoughts don’t linger in Soobin’s mind too long. He’s insisted weeks ago that the two of you move away from this town and open his bookstore somewhere else, but you’ve convinced him otherwise. The two of you aren’t even married yet nor engaged. You wouldn’t want him to pick up his whole life just because you feel slightly uncomfortable with the stares on you. Or the whispers each time you enter a room. You can handle it. You just need to let out your grievances occasionally.

“Telling me not to worry will only make me worry more, love,” he places his hands on either side of the chair you sit on, lightly nudging your forehead with his. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to leave you because some townsfolk are scared of a woman who made a popcorn bag catch on fire in the microwave.”

“Soobin!” You nudge him and he laughs, moving away from you and back to his tasks. “You’re such an ass.”

He rolls his eyes, continuing to stock his shelves and tend to customers. You’ve noticed that some are startled when they see you, so you decide to hide out in the back of his store, headphones over your ears to drown out the whispers of disdain and dread. Soobin scolds them each time they do it, but it only seems to drive their intentions. After a few minutes of hearing him argue you decide it’s best to no longer listen.

-

“It’s your turn, Seonghwa. Continuing to tuck yourself behind literature will not slow down time. Soon the others will come and find where you’ve hidden yourself.”

Seonghwa sighs as he listens to San’s words, peering over the stack of writings. Its grown since the last time San entered his room; piles upon piles of literature is littered around him, some of it very close to the entrance of the room. The others never really bothered to enter his personal space because of it, but San was just in here yesterday. How is it already crowded? Especially considering how neat Seonghwa is. “Must it be tonight? We’ve delayed it for longer.”

“We’re all hungry. You know what happens when it’s taken too far. I’d rather not clean up any of our messes again,” San points out, Seonghwa’s frown only deepening. “It’s our second to last one for this town, then we’re moving on. Too many disappearances will make the authorities search the Rowan. It’ll only cause more slaughter.”

“Then so be it,” Seonghwa says. He hides himself behind the stack once more. The sound of pages flipping fills the quiet.

“Hwa…” His voice drags now, whining, twisting each syllable. “The Seelies are on our backs."

“Fine,” Seonghwa places the book on the top of the stacks, stepping around it to meet San’s eyes. His sleepwear wraps around him, glasses resting at the edge of his nose. For a moment, he finds the sight endearing. “There’s a fair tonight to ward off faeries with their limited resources. Enough of a distraction to steal another.”

"Great!" San replies happily.

-

"It's a bit cold to have a festival, no?" You say, passing Soobin his bag. He thanks you, placing it on his back. "The harvest will be fine like it always is. And you're a bookstore owner, not a farmer. Ever think about not attending one?"

"It's to support everyone in the neighborhood, y/n. We know everyone, and they'll know I'm not around. Plus, it'll bring a great harvest of customers to the bookstore," He grins at your eye roll at his pun."Come and you'll see. It'll be fun."

That's the last thing you want to do. Be around people who hate you in the middle of the night around burning logs? A recipe for a disaster. "I don't know…"

"They said you wouldn't show," he adds, grabbing his hat off the coat hanger. "This will prove them wrong. Maybe it'll stop the weird rumors that are spreading for no reason? They'll see you're kind and pretty and safe, and have nothing to do with the disappearances. They'll love you like I love you."

You shouldn't care what others think. In fact you really don't care much at all. But Soobin cares deeply, and having you around the bookstore meant that you would have to care. So you give him a brave face, following him out the bookstore and twisting the lock behind you. The two of you have had prior discussions, most ending in a moot point. You care for each other more than anything – you'd give him the world if asked. And he consistently, without falter, told you that he would leave this all behind if you couldn't take it any longer. You've thought it over. If tonight doesn't somewhat boost your position in this town – you're not sure you'll be able to stand it any longer. There's only so many snide remarks one could take.

Soobin and you pass by closed shops and darkened porches, making your way to the gathering. You see the clovers painted on walls and doors, handing up along roofs and banisters. He catches your eyes, smiling.

"Think it makes the faeries go away?"

You purse your lips, "Probably not. They're more clever than we make them out to be." If they're real, you finish in your head. "It stumps me a bit how a formation of leaves would stop them in their place. They love nature don't they? Why would they hate a perfect formation of it?"

"A folktale," he shrugs. "That's why I keep it in my sign. People around here heard about a woman being saved because she had one in her pocket, so they think it'll save them when a faerie comes crawling around." He rolls his eyes. "Doubt it'll stop them."

You laugh along with him, meaningless conversation exchanged between the two of you. Eventually, you make it into the clearing. Most people you recognize already, all giving greetings to Soobin. Some even say hello to you, much to your surprise. You stand a bit away from the crowd, thanking Soobin for passing you a marshmallow and stick. You chat along with him for a while, until something from the corner of your eye bothers you. You don't look, at first, a creepy feeling crawling over your skin. Eventually, you decide it's best to get it over with than continue to feel uncomfortable.

A man across the fire shifts your attention for a moment. He holds a cup in his hand, sipping slowly as he stares into the flames. You’ve never seen him before. Strangers do often enter the fairs to enjoy a vacation away from their homes. Ordinary in itself, yet there seems to be someone odd about him. He wears a long, black overcoat despite the temperature, hair pulled back by darkened frames on his head. His eyes slowly move, almost meeting yours until you look away.

The air around you feels a bit colder.

“You’re going to break the cup if you hold it any tighter,” Soobin laughs, tilting his head to block your view. His smile slowly drops, concern in his gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, just feeling a little chilly,” you murmur, moving a bit closer to the fire. Soobin pulls you into his side, giving you a chance to send a fleeting glance at the man. Unfortunately for you, he no longer stands there. And even more odd, it feels as if he's still there, watching you.

You’re not the superstitious type due to you never seeing faeries, a part of you doesn’t believe in them at all. But rarely did anyone ever come to these celebrations that didn’t live here. The way that the stranger stands out makes your insides twist. Him fading into the darkness – no human could do such a thing.

Perhaps you should have stayed home after all.

"It is a bit chilly tonight," Soobin agrees, tucking you closer underneath his arm. "The winds must be telling a story." You know he's trying to comfort you. You're not hiding whatever is bothering you at all. A bit comical that you're attempting to. You were never one to conceal your emotions, face as literal as a child's painting. "Are my reassurances that boring?" He teases.

You pull yourself from the grip of your thoughts, shaking your head. "I think I should go," voice barely louder than the buzzing of the fireflies. "I don't want you to freak, but something feels off."

"Off?" His brows furrow, glancing around. "Like?"

You're thankful that he always believes in your intuition. "Like there's something in the crowd that doesn't belong. I know it sounds stupid, and I know I'm the last person to believe in that stuff but I just feel it, you know?"

"We should leave then." He stands up, hand sliding into yours with ease. "We've hung around enough already. No need to stay longer than necessary."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to follow."

"I wouldn't let you walk back home alone."

He agrees swiftly and you're thankful for it. Soobin guides you around the crowd of people, exchanging goodbyes as you leave the gathering. Soon enough it's only the two of you leaving the woods. You walk swifter than him. sparing a glance every once in a while to make sure he's close.

-

“One.”

“One.”

“Two…”

“Soobin, come on,” You try peeking through the mask he holds over your eyes, but he secures his hold, giggles echoing in your ear.

“Two,” you groan, though smiling.

“Three!” He pulls off the blindfold, stepping away from you. At first, you’re a bit confused, at least until you look at the counter. Your own eyes widen at the sight, looking between it and Soobin. A very unlike you squeal escapes your lips, running over the carpet and piles of books he has yet to put away. You grab the small journal, hand dragging over the ridges and markings. It’s one you’ve had your eye on for months now, hoping and praying (and saving) that no one would be able to buy it before you. Just a week ago, you complained to Soobin – very much on the verge of tears – that you saw it was sold and couldn’t handle it. He comforted you in that moment and told you that things happen for a reason. Back then, you were too distraught to notice the slight grin on his lips as he held you close. You look back at your partner.

He stands there proud, hands on his hips, chest puffed out. Without another word you stumble over the books and things laid about, throwing yourself into his arms. He laughs at the sudden push, steadying himself against the wall. Once he stabilizes himself, he holds you close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Like it?”

All you can do is nod into his chest, overcome with emotion. It might be a bit silly to other people, the way you’re reacting to a mere journal. But it means a lot to you. It’s something you’ve dreamed about holding in your hands for years, and he fulfilled your wish. You’re not sure anything else could top this. It's been a few days since the incident in the forest. Your life is as mundane as ever and you're thankful for it.

“I love you,” you whisper. “I really do love you."

  “I know,” he murmurs back. “I love you more.”

“Shut up,“ you punch his chest lightly, ignoring the tears falling down your cheeks. “I can’t believe you spent so much – “

“Ah ah ah,” he presses his pointer finger against your lips, shushing you. “You’re not allowed to talk about the price. I know how you are.”

“But it’s so –“

“Beautiful, yes. It’s beautiful just like you,” he agrees, laughing at the frown on your face. His thumb wipes away your tears, “y/n, I know you’ve been trying to hide it. I know you don’t like it here. And I know you’ve been struggling with being ostracized by the townsfolk. I’ve noticed how it’s been affecting you. I’ve asked so many times if it was okay and you insisted that it is even though you feel otherwise. So, spending money on something you can enjoy is the least I can do. You’ve sacrificed a lot for me to have this bookstore. If I can make you happy, I’d do anything.”

Without another word you press your lips against his, a laugh escaping him as he holds you tight.

-

Seonghwa slams open the door, throwing his coat against the rack. He doesn't bother picking it up, majik floating it back to the hook. The others soon pour in, groaning at the lack of a sacrifice behind him another day more. Just as they begin to scold, Hongjoong enters first. Seeing the anger rising in Seonghwa, he tells the others to leave the room with a brief look. San looks the most worried, but Hongjoong pats him, a silent comfort. Once they’re all gone Hongjoong moves to his potions. He doesn't bother waiting for Seonghwa to speak, knowing that he would just let it brew until he explodes.

"Is it about that human again?"

Seonghwa meekly nods.

"What did you see?" He asks simply.

"A human, there was a human woman. But it wasn't like any other…" He trails off, mind lost. "I cannot explain it. But it didn't even flinch at my attempts to shift its mind. It only blinked at me, Hongjoong. I thought it might be because I haven't fed, so I tried it on another and it worked. How is that possible? Tell me.”

Hongjoong frowns, delicately balancing a glass between his fingers, “Delusions?”

“It was real!”

“Alright, no need to yell,” Hongjoong waves the steam from the glass through the air. “A human woman, you said? And you’re sure it wasn’t a Seelie teasing you?”

Seonghwa begins to pace back and forth. “There was no majik used while I was attempting to enter her head. But there was a wall, something blocking me from it. I tried to penetrate but stopped once I noticed my majik draining rapidly. No one was ever able to do anything like that to me. Never. In all honesty, I would have dragged her here to be tested but her human partner intercepted.”

“It made you out to be a fool,” Hongjoong teases, ignoring the glare he shoots at him. “It’s a human, Seonghwa. There isn’t a shield in their mind that you cannot penetrate. But it doesn’t matter now, you’ve brought the other with you, right?”

"The other…?"

"The human, Hwa. The one to feed on."

“Yes, but –”

“Then let the others feed. We can figure out this strange human later. Look in your literature if you must, but it shouldn’t be anything too odd. Perhaps it’s just an anomaly. Though it happens once a millennia, it is possible.”

“...So I shouldn’t worry?” His brows furrow, looking at his friend. Hongjoong places his glass on the side, moving closer to Seonghwa. He rests his fingers on his collarbone, slipping them beneath his cloak. Said man shivers at the touch, eyes shut. Hongjoong presses his lips against it. “Don’t distract me Joong.”

He grins into his skin, lightly pecking the skin before drawing back. “Don’t worry. After they feed, I can ask one of the others to see what’s wrong. Perhaps Wooyoung, he does enjoy mingling around humans. It might let something slip and we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Seonghwa frowns, “He’s the last one that should go. San always has to chase after him when he does something unsightly.”

“First of all,” Wooyoung peers into the room through the crack in the door that he created several years ago (long story short: chasing after Jongho with a potion), “I am very well-behaved around humans. I haven’t done anything remotely unapproved in centuries, a millennia, even! One night out to woo the human isn’t going to cause a national tragedy.”

“Ah, do you recall Pompeii?” A voice from the hallway, Mingi probably, fading into the distance. Wooyoung glares, stepping into the room.

“That was one volcano.”

"You are a risk," Seonghwa says simply, turning back to Hongjoong. "It's fine. I’ll go. I’ll monitor and see if there is anything of concern, and I'll report back. It will be simpler that way," he glances at the pouting Wooyoung. "And much safer."

"Whatever," Hongjoong shrugs. "Not this time Wooyoung. We can't risk it. The human might already know more than we think. We have to play it safe for now."

Wooyoung frowns, "Mistake. He'll gut the human before we'll ever get the chance to meet her."

"Hey–"

"He won't," Hongjoong adds. "At least not yet. We have to convince her to come here so we can do testing. He can do it. Now let's go enjoy the feast with the others. The mood is too low around here." Seonghwa tries to catch his eyes but Hongjoong avoids them purposefully, fingers entwined with his as he drags him from the room, Wooyoung close.

Their home is rather large to house the leaders of the Unseelie. Meetings are often conducted from their parlor or garden. Maintained by the majik flowing through the air, they glide along the marble floors, vines curling around their furniture and sculptures. They can hear the music as they move closer to the others, need filling their minds. Feeding is scarce these days – humans are more wary of faeries now than ever. Balls and masquerades are rare, if ever. They've settled for one human every few weeks shared amongst them. Hongjoong encourages his friend to step forward, a sigh escaping his lips as the doors open.

The two enter the room, a disgruntled look on Seonghwa’s face, Hongjoong trailing after. The others sit in a circle as the human dances with San, twirling around in circles over and over again. Seonghwa slides in his designated seat next to Wooyoung, ignoring the grin he sends him.

“You’re tainting my good mood, Wooyoung.”

“Are you ever in a good mood? Weren’t you upset earlier that the special edition of that kit you wanted didn’t arrive yet? Before you left for that human again.”

Seonghwa widens his eyes, “It’s been over a year. They said it would ship out last week, but I never got a notification!”

“Oh woe is you,” Wooyoung teases, leaping from his seat when he sees Seonghwa’s arm rise. “Hey! You said no more flora!”

“It’s fungi this time,” Seonghwa frowns, but drops his hand. Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief, glancing at the two dancing. The human’s feet are bloodied now, stumbling over the jagged rocks on the ground. It cries, San’s laugh in juxtaposition at the sound. The smell of blood fills the air, Wooyoung's eyes darkening at the scent. The others begin to match his expression, surrounding the human. It does not understand what's happening because of the majik. They die as happy as they live. Seelie have more morally sound ways of killing humans but it is all the same in the end. The Unseelie just like to have more fun. San pulls the human’s face close to his, breathing in its essence. The human grows paler, slowly surrounded by the eight.

The echo of a body falling to the floor surrounds them.

-

"Sales have gone sour," Soobin reads over the end of day report, his frown creating lines decorating his forehead "Barely hit even today. It's like everyone's forgotten we exist."

"It will get better," you say softly, nudging him with your knee. He would usually give you a reassuring smile, but he doesn't react at all, narrowing his eyes. "Bin…"

"We can't continue like this," he murmurs. "Sales just keep going lower and lower. I've been here forever and it's never been this bad. I mean… Hell, my opening day I made more sales than today. And at that time no one knew I even opened the shop. I just don't get why they're not coming around anymore."

You. It's all you. They're afraid of you.

Soobin seems to read your flattened expression, shaking his head. "It's not you."

"It's been going downhill ever since I've been around. I’m the cause of it, Soobin. We can't just ignore that."

"It's a correlation, not causation. And people came in anyway. There's no valid reason why this would be all your fault, y/n. I promise you that."

“What else could it be then, Soobin? They’ve all told you that they don’t like me. You know that they avoid me every chance they get. People see me in the shop and turn the other way. I’m the one that’s continuing to burden you, and you know it,” you rub your face. “I thought in the beginning, coming here would somehow help you, bring this shop to where we want it to be. But it seems to be the opposite. It seems like… like my presence is everything wrong about this place–”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” he protests. He takes a step to you but you take one back, shaking your head. He drops his outstretched hands, a sigh escaping his lips. “Then what do you suggest? If you think it’s true?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Leave? Not you, just me. To see if the sales pick up. To see what’s really going on around here.”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

“Soo–”

“It’s like…” he furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s like you’re ignoring everything I tell you. I’ve told you so many times that we can leave if you’re uncomfortable. That we can leave together, but you insisted on staying here. Dealing with the people. And I know you’re doing it for me y/n, I know that. But I don’t want you to be miserable, and I don’t want you to live like this. I know we’re not at the stage of being life partners yet. I know we aren’t married. But sometimes it feels like you put your feelings below mine, and I just don’t think that’s okay you know? All it does is make me feel worse, and make you feel worse. I want us to talk about things. I don’t want you to leave the neighborhood by yourself. If you’re leaving, I’m leaving. That’s how it’s going to be. We stick together.”

“Soobin…” You close your eyes. “You love it here.”

“And I can find somewhere else I love. It’s not that hard.”

You want to listen to his words. It all makes sense. But he’s dreamt of having this bookstore here forever. In all honesty, even if you had to commute to see him every other day, you would if it made him happy. You’re just not too sure if he would be able to find somewhere else he loves as much as this small town. You’ve never seen him happier, except for right now.

“It is hard, Bin.”

The breath he lets out now feels more irritated. “You’re not even trying to compromise.”

“You love it here, Soobin! I don’t want to be the person to ruin your dream because people around here hate me and are isolating you from the neighborhood–”

“Fuck, y/n,” he slams his hand on the counter. “All we’re doing is speaking in circles. You want to leave me here alone, then what? What will happen when I thrive? Will you just never come here again? What? What’s the solution, hm?”

You open your mouth, then close it. He stares at you waiting for a response, but you have nothing. What would you do if it’s successful? Would you just leave him alone, never coming back? Are you holding him back? There’s so many questions without answers but you know one thing: everyone in this neighborhood hates you. And it’s ruining his bookstore.

“Would you break up with me?” He asks softer this time.

Without question you shake your head, “No. Of course not.”

“You mean more to me than this bookstore, y/n,” he says softly, picking his words carefully. “Plans are often disrupted when we least expect it. I can love somewhere else. We can be somewhere else, anywhere. I’d move across the ocean for you without question. That’s what love is. We compromise, we make choices for us, not just one of us. I’ll be happy with you, wherever we are,” his eyes soften as they look into yours. “Do you hear me?”

You nod slowly, letting him move closer and pull you into his embrace. His touch is comforting, despite the lump in your throat.

-

“We kill him.”

“He’s well-liked around town. It will be noticeable,” San points out.

“Is he really that significant?”

“Enough so that people would suspect the woman.”

Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s a good thing they suspect she’s the reason. She’s upset and we use it to our advantage. Humans need comfort when something unexpected happens in their lives, much more so than us. Her mind will be more open to change. It’ll be wise to have Wooyoung enter her life then. Convince her to come with him after a few weeks of getting to know each other.”

“Wooyoung,” San raises his brow. “Out of the eight of us, you believe that the trickster would be of comfort to a human woman mourning a relationship? What happened to Seonghwa going?”

“He’s a bit preoccupied with affairs from the Seelie. And what’s wrong with Woo? He’s silly, no?” Hongjoong says. “Humans enjoy humor.”

“I doubt she would enjoy it. His silliness is not in line with a human’s. We are Unseelie for a reason.”

“He’s your mate and yet you doubt him.”

“He’s our mate so you should doubt him in this case as well.”

Hongjoong pauses for a moment, thinking. Though he does not know of you as well as the others – they’ve researched your every move since you’ve stepped foot into existence – San has a bit of knowledge when it comes to humans. Hongjoong doesn’t often meander around the outside world. And his duties prevent him from doing so anyway. “Would Seonghwa suffice? We’ll just wait until he comes back?”

San deadpans, only causing Hongjoong to sigh.

“Well I know you hate being around humans, so who else do you suggest?”

There’s a knock on the door, before it hits the wall completely. The two of them turn. Yunho holds Wooyoung by his collar, the younger glaring at him before looking at the two in the room. His grin widens when he meets San’s eyes, a sigh escaping the latter.

“What have you done?” Is all that San utters.

Yunho speaks for him. “Perhaps Wooyoung was the best choice, since he broke orders and went to see her first.” Yunho lets go of him, stepping to the side. “Mingi caught him in the act before anything else could happen. We’ll have to produce another plan.”

“What did he do?” Hongjoong frowns.

“Perhaps,” Wooyoung slowly walks around the room. “I made the decision for us. He will no longer be a problem.” Yunho glares at the shorter man as he meanders around the tables, touching things he absolutely should not be handling. It takes a moment for Hongjoong to realize exactly what he means by his shallow words, a laugh escaping his throat.

“You killed him?”

He shrugs, “It was an issue that needed to be solved quickly. We can decide how to move forward now that the human is dead.”

“Does she know he is dead?”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “Of course not!”

“Joong, you should be more angry about this,” Yunho interrupts the conversation. “He blatantly went against our orders and did something that we were forbidden to do without knowledge. He should be punished.”

Despite Hongjoong’s leader position, he’s had a soft spot for Wooyoung since they’ve known each other. Since this Spark began. He was the last to be bound with the others, only making the leader more protective of him. Thus, spoiling him much more so in comparison to the others. It hasn’t truly been a problem. But in instances like this, when they’re so close to human affairs, they need to be more careful. So, despite his softened heart when he gazes at Wooyoung, Yunho is right. Hongjoong had to make an example.

“No stepping foot onto human land until I say.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, beginning to protest until he saw how serious Hongjoong looked. He meekly nodded, shooting Yunho a quick glare before exiting the room. Just as the door closes, Hongjoong rubs his forehead, thinking.

San stands in the same spot, glancing between the two. “Was it bloody?”

“Better to not describe it,” Yunho murmurs. “Mingi is there now. He’ll fix it.”

“Great,” Hongjoong sighs. “Well, now we have to conjure up something else.”

–

Days prior

The door creaks as you slowly open it, the smell of wet plywood and a distinct musk of cotton balls fills the home. Your eyes roam over the broken furniture, smashed television and endless amounts of shattered glass across the floor. You hold your breath, stepping into the empty spaces as you make your way around. Soobin is one of the kindest men you know; it’s almost comical to see everything destroyed. He valued everything that was broken. You just can’t wrap your head around the fact that he ruined it all. Because of a silly disagreement? You’ve had plenty of those. Why is this time different from the rest?

It seemed like it was solved that day. But the pressure between you two escalated. Each time the topic was brought up, he’d get angrier. Hated your explanations for wanting to go, and didn’t like the option of you wanting to stay. Nothing the two of you came up with satisfied the other, so it just climaxed into curt greetings in the morning, silent conversations in the evening. But you didn’t think it was this bad. This terrible, for him to leave your shared apartment like this.

Between the destruction, you spot a letter crumbled up on the floor. It takes everything within you to pick it up and see what it says. His words are scrawled, almost unrecognizable. As if he wrote it in a hurry. But it’s as clear as day.

I’m done.

Your eyes begin to shake, fingers gripping the paper so tightly it begins to rip. Without another word you take out your phone, dialing his number over and over again. It sends you to voicemail immediately – until at some point it says the line has been disconnected. He blocked you? He destroyed your shared home, your things, left a crumpled-up letter on the floor and then blocked you?

“Fuck,” you drop to your knees, staring at the disaster around you. You reach for your phone, immediately dialing the non-emergency line to report it. As the operator explains the steps for you to take, your own thoughts making her voice fade. So many questions rattled in your head, one stamped in the front of your mind.

What will you do now?

-

Now

Mingi rests on the branch, wings tucked to his sides as he observes your home another day in a row. From where he sits, he can see how anxiety ridden you are; cabinets opening and closing, drawers overflowing with clothing, tears staining your cheeks as you try to clean the mess. The others told him that humans felt emotions differently than fae. That they mourn for months on end, possibly years. It's not something he can quite understand, but he empathizes. At least he thinks he does. His head tilts as he watches you. He surely hopes you will forget the human sooner rather than later. Hongjoong promised he wouldn't attempt to coax your mind to fall for their charms. Insisted that you'd do it on your own. But this destruction, it makes him worry.

Not for himself, of course. He feels nothing for you. What he worries about is his spark. About how much they care about you. So even if Hongjoong promised he'd never bind you to them with a spell… well.

Mingi never gave such a promise.

It’s true; he didn't like you. He didn't like that you were in his family's life without even knowing it yet. He didn't like that you were making his spark so happy. How could a human who barely interacted with them have such a pull? It makes no sense entirely. But what else would he be able to do? Coax you into leaving? The others would be angry with him, furious even. The thought of binding you to them immediately vanishes the more he thinks about it. Humans being involved with faeries only lead to bad outcomes. He wouldn’t dare make that certain with a spell.

He knew that humans felt emotions differently than fae. He knew that you were still grieving the loss of you and your partner’s relationship despite it being weeks ago. But he didn't care. He watched as you paced back and forth, your hands shaking as you swept the floor. He watched as you cried, your tears staining your cheeks. He watched as you tried to clean your destroyed home, and he still felt nothing. Well, annoyance, maybe. Having to watch you to make sure nothing strange happens.

He can remember how he came to Wooyoung, noticing the smell of blood over him mixed with majik. Mingi didn’t say a word about it at first, until he noticed the strange look on Wooyoung’s face. The way his eyes dilated, the scattered look in his gaze. Faeries, you see, Unseelie like them, feeding off a human gives them this sort of increase in energy. Makes their abilities much stronger than before. But there are times when an Unseelie feeds too much, too often. When the feeling consumes them, it makes them much more dangerous than before. Mingi hasn’t seen it in a while so it was easy to recognize it consuming his mate. The distant look. Immediately flying to your home, seeing the blood everywhere. It took him so long to fix it up enough so that you wouldn’t notice a thing. Wouldn’t notice the strong smell of death in the apartment. And just as a precaution, he decided to stay and watch you. To make sure he didn’t miss a thing.

You fall to the floor, sobs echoing around the small space. His eyes narrow for a moment, a strange thought almost escaping his parted lips.

He wonders if you will be alright.

-

“Did she take it well?” Hongjoong asks Mingi, lips quirked when he sees the frown on his cheeks. “It is only a minor setback. It should be over soon.”

It’s several days later when Hongjoong calls Mingi into his room. Mingi doesn’t really like entering, the mess is a bit overwhelming sometimes. But he sees that he fixed it up enough for him to tolerate it. A small gesture of kindness in a strange situation.

“She will be devastated for months on end.”

“She will get over it.”

Mingi’s brow furrows. “Though I don’t know humans well enough to make a judgment, I think it’s safe to say that her getting over it won’t happen for a while. You’re overestimating her emotional state, Hongjoong. She was crying over a photo of them together. She cried over human utensils.”

Hongjoong snickers, shrugging, “What can I do? Her human partner is already deceased somewhere along the valley. It’s not like I can bring him back to life again. Playing with Death isn’t wise, you know. Even for an Unseelie. Plus,” he wiggles his fingers. “I promised that I wouldn’t manipulate her mind to care for us. Nothing else I can do. Maybe Yunho or Jongho could cheer her up, they seem to care for her the most.”

“They don’t know her. None of us do.”

“They seem to know enough.”

Mingi could read between the lines. Hongjoong’s dance around the truth is almost humorous now. The word seem. He lines his sentences with it often, using it to twist a lie enough to be partially true. Though Seonghwa was the one who was most interested in the beginning – mostly to dissect her – Hongjoong’s interest is slowly rising. Especially since the others are focused on her more now.

What is this human doing to his spark? None of them even know you in the slightest except for some background details. What is this quite random obsession with a human? Especially one as mundane and ordinary as you?

“You look irritated,” Hongjoong notes, flipping through his papers. “Letting those emotions dwell isn’t good for you.”

“You all care for this stranger too much, it’s infuriating.”

Hongjoong grins, “Or do you just care for her too little?”

Mingi closes his eyes for a moment, a harsh gust of air escaping his nose. He pinches it slightly, eyes flicking back to his friend. “We aren’t supposed to care for humans at all.”

“And yet here we are, doing that exact thing.”

“Stop saying we,” Mingi frowns, Hongjoong’s eyes lighting up.

“So is it not true, then? Do you not care for her?”

“I care that she is affecting everyone."

"Not unlike a faerie, twisting your words," Hongjoong giggles.

"Hongjoong," Mingi sighs. "We can't continue like this. There has to be something done. I can't continue to pretend like everything is fine when it's the opposite."

This time, the giggle slowly disappearing from Hongjoong’s expression. He nods solemnly. "And it will be dealt with. It will take time, Mingi. We can't mess up. Not now when tensions are so high between us and the Seelie. If there is something different about her, majik or otherwise, we have to figure it out. It may ease the tension if only momentarily. She seems like a decent human no? I can bet that she will be willing to sacrifice her well being for an important cause."

"You think a human would care about faeries that feed on humans?"

Hongjoong shrugs, "Either that, or we take her unwillingly. It's her choice in the end."

"Not much of one."

Hongjoong grins, "Well she doesn't need to know that."

-

Seonghwa picks up his book, flicking through the pages. Nothing stands out. There isn’t any record of a human being that has resisted the charm of a faerie from what he can see. Not any ordinary humans, at least. But he found you unextraordinary. Nothing makes you stand out from the crowd, nothing that catches his eye. You just happened to be at the right place, right time. Interesting how circumstances led him to gloss over these pages, desperate to find a reason why you are the way you are. Is it a natural defense? Has human evolution created subspecies that are resistant to the charm of a Unseelie?

If that is so, they’re existence on this Earth will begin to fade.

His fingers grip the research papers, jaw tightening. The words running through his head annoy him, but there’s nothing else he can do. He must dissect you. But how will he get you here? How will your disappearance go unnoticed in such a small town? How will he separate your mind from that tall human you call your partner?

 “Your thoughts are plastered on your face, Hwa,” Yeosang steps into the room, tailed by San. Seonghwa has noticed that they are often together, the eldest of the two ignoring San’s presence most of the time. But all of them can see through it. Despite how aloof Yeosang is, he adores the attention given to him. Swims in it, even. So, as it always is, Yeosang barely gives the man a glance, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “I heard about this human you found.”

“It’s resistant, Yeosang. I can’t have it roaming around without us knowing why we can’t charm it. There must be a reason.”

“Like in the movies,” San widens his eyes, nudging Yeosang. “The one person who has the cure!”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “This isn’t a zombie flick.”

“You don’t know that. We could be in one right now.”

Yeosang snorts, San puffing up his chest. Despite how irritated Seonghwa is, his lips crack into a small smile, only boosting San’s ego. He closes his notebook, rubbing his face. “I have to know why.”

“Have to, or want to?” Yeosang asks, brow raised. “We could just leave it as is. If another human found out about it, it could lead down a rabbit hole.”

“Let her go?” Seonghwa frowns. “Wooyoung already interfered. Letting it all go won’t end well.”

“You will take her then? Run tests to see why she’s resistant? It would be difficult to pull her from her life, but humans already suspect that she’s a bad luck charm in her village. It’s not like they’d be unhappy she’s gone,” Yeosang sniffs a jar, face contorting at the smell. “Rancid.”

“It’s frog intestines boiled in a rat’s tail and mermaid essence,” Seonghwa murmurs, Yeosang covering his face to keep from gagging. “But how do you know about that? Were you researching?”

San speaks up this time, “Jongho visited her at the bookstore her partner owns. Well, owned. It wasn’t long until he heard whispers of the villagers talking about getting rid of her because of the disappearances that have been happening ever since she arrived in town. And now it's her partner.”

“It’s not even her fault,” Yeosang adds.

“Humans are disloyal,” Seonghwa tsks. “But it is best for us I suppose. They will probably bask and rejoice in her disappearance.”

"That's a bit pitiful. It doesn't come as a surprise that she wanted to leave so badly. I wouldn't want to be around people that hate me either."

"But now she won't leave because she doesn't know what happened to that Soobin. The mystery of his disappearance may cause her to stay for a long time. A lot of humans aren't able to move on from partners that are gone," Seonghwa rubs his face. "It's difficult to know what to do without seeing her."

"Go," Jongho enters the room, Mingi just behind him. Both drenched in sweat from their training session, Seonghwa's nose wrinkles in disgust when he sees fluids drip onto his floor. "Visit her. I'll join if you'd like."

"Not necessary. Mingi," Seonghwa's focus moves to the taller of the two. Mingi raises his brow. "Was she distraught?"

He nods slowly. "Very much so. That was a few weeks ago though. She may have calmed down. But there is no guarantee; we all know how emotional humans are."

“You’re sensitive to emotions Seonghwa, are you sure you’re willing to go there? Humans irritate you to no end,” Wooyoung murmurs. “I can go –”

“You messed up the last time, Wooyoung. And back then we didn’t even tell you much about her. There’s no telling what you’ll do now. It’s better if you’re not interested at all,” San wraps his arm around his neck, tugging him out the room. The door closes slightly behind them. Yeosang, Mingi, and Jongho remain in the room with Seonghwa.

Idle conversation swirls around the room as they speak softly, Seonghwa gathering up his belongings. His curiosity greatly surpasses his lack of care for humankind. If there is someone like you out there, how many more are the same? He can remember the conversation you had with your partner - how you were afraid of something being off. It was Seonghwa of course, but rarely has a human ever felt the chills of faeries around them. So many things don’t come to proper conclusions in his head and he needs to know. For the safety of himself and every person in this home. Perhaps for the fate of the Unseelie entirely.

He leaves the library, book tucked underneath his arm. He enters his room, barely giving Hongjoong - who rests in his bed - a glance. He listens as he stands up from the sheets, an arm wrapping around his waist, tugging him closer.

Hongjoong presses his lips against his back, humming. “There’s no need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders. The human probably doesn’t even know of its resistance to your lure. It may just be one in a billion.”

“I have to make sure. It’s for all of us, not just me,” Seonghwa says, pulling away from his hold. It’s something they often do - Hongjoong tries to pull him closer only for Seonghwa to pull away. It’s happened ever since the beginning. “You know that. You should be more worried than me.”

“Why worry about a silly little human?” Hongjoong snorts. “She will die in a few decades anyway.”

“It seems like I’m the only one who cares about her existence,” Seonghwa lifts his clothes and tosses them, replacing them with a more human-like outfit. He barely gives himself a look in the mirror, a scowl etched on his features. How humans have not moved past such hideous outfits is beyond him. “I would kill her if it weren’t for the unknown.”

“Everyone and this little human,” Hongjoong sighs. “Fine. Do whatever you’d like. Just be back for the council meeting. The other Unseelies don’t quite approve of the recent killings we’ve done.”

Seonghwa furrows his brows, “Since when did they care about our dealings?”

“Since they’ve begun to notice the pattern of disappearances. Humans are not exactly happy with us, even though they don’t have a method of killing us.”

“Then me interacting with her now is important,” Seonghwa quickly grabs his bag. “I’ll be back with my findings. And I won’t kill her. At least not right now.” he glances at his leader. “Don’t wait for me if I’m not back for the meeting.”

“Hwa-”

He disappears just as Hongjoong begins to speak. Hongjoong stares blankly at the place he once was, brows furrowed. Just what is it about this human that has everyone losing their minds? He purses his lips, lifting himself off the bed. Soon enough he’ll find out for himself.

-

Seonghwa slowly enters the bookstore. The bell rings against the glass pane of the door, his steps hesitant. There isn't anyone around the bookstore, soft music playing. He tucks his hands into his coat pocket, unaccustomed to the cold environment. His eyes roam around, books neatly stacked, signs arranged in alphabetical order. It warms his heart a bit to see organization – his own library doesn't see it as much as he'd like. The quick steps of a human running pulls his thoughts away, eyes flicking over to you.

You hold a couple of books in your hand, hair unkempt and eyes filled with exhaustion. A pen tucked behind your ear, you give him a sincere smile, placing the books in a neat stack on the counter.

"Welcome to our bookstore!" You say happily, meeting the eyes of the stranger. Just as you do, your thoughts move back to over a month or so ago. The festival. The stranger in the woods. Your smile wavers for a moment as you look at him. He looks as ordinary as a man with unreal beauty can look. Perhaps you were a bit out of it at the time. Still, you remain wary, inching closer to the counter behind you.

"Hello, I’m Seonghwa," he says softly. His voice is deep, eyes dark as he stares at you. His hair is darker than any black you've seen, even the shade of brown in his eyes more black than anything else. His clothing choice is odd as well - a thin graphic tee and slacks covering sports shoes. Completely and utterly different from the well-dressed man in a cloak you witnessed in the forest. He looks uncomfortable in it as well, tugging slightly on the fabric. You swallow slowly, forcing another grin on your lips.

"Hi, I’m y/n. How can I help you?"

"I'm quite new to venturing out into town," he steps around, fingertips stroking the top of a stack of new hardcovers. "The others told me of a bookstore and a café together in one. If you don't mind, I'd like to look around and perhaps have a drink. Whenever you are ready to prepare?"

You push the eerie feeling away, agreeing. "Of course. What would you like, then?"

Seonghwa sits himself at your favorite spot - a small loveseat situated near the front windows. The same place Soobin and you would rest after a long day, counting tills. The light shines on him as he ponders, eyes flicking over the assortment of sweets and drink displays behind you. You take a step to the side and he sends you a small thank you in the form of a smile. He leans, gazing at your open cabinets. "Anything with saffron. Or sweet, I do quite enjoy that."

You ponder for a moment, before opening your cabinet and retrieving your tea leaves. You take out the honey as well, not noticing how his eyes widen at the jar. You take out the milk as well, glancing at Seonghwa. "Milk tea with honey? I should have some cookies around…" You mumble, digging through the drawer. "Soobin usually eats it all."

"Soobin?" His brows furrow.

You pause.

"Yes, my partner. Former partner. The person who owns this place," you raise your brow. There's an unreadable look on his face, but it doesn't linger long enough for you to consider what it was. Setting the water to a boil, you slide back into your seat, humming. "There's a small farmhouse just next to the Rowan trees that I'm looking to buy. Just a few more days until I find out if I get it or not." It’s outside of the town enough that you’d still be able to live comfortably. Moving into the city right now is on the bottom of your list. And even if you do decide to leave, at least you’ll have a place to fall back on. It isn’t too expensive since it’s been abandoned for years now.

"You're married?" He asks, thanking you as you pass him his tea and the honey jar.

"No, it’s complicated right now. I’m not too sure where he is if I'm being honest.”

You see the puzzled look on his face, and quickly clear it up.

“We had a falling out not too long ago. That’s why the shop looks this way. But yeah, I planned on moving soon. At least when I found something more stable," you think. Though the two of you were friends before partners, Soobin always gave little answer or thought to marriage. In fact, he said he started to consider it only when you brought it up. That was three years ago. Now, you don’t even know where he is, or if he’s coming back.

"Are you sure about that?" He raises his brow.

“About what?”

“Finding somewhere else. I remember you mentioning that this place looks a bit…” he trails off. “But it looks fine to me. Perhaps a bit too orderly for a small town bookstore.”

You blink quickly. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his tea.

You move away from him then, grabbing your stack of books off the table and going back to work. The fear of him being around you has subsided. Though there is still a mysterious cloud around him, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before in your travels through the city. You curse yourself for even mentioning Soobin, placing the books on the shelves. You probably drove away another customer in your whines to the stranger.

 You glance back at him and see that he's reading one of the magazines you've left on the table, sipping his tea. How someone could look elegant while sitting in a t-shirt is beyond your understanding.

"Do you enjoy the town?" You ask, finishing your task. He looks up from the magazine.

"It's quite alright. Just like any other small town. Intrusive townspeople, curious eyes following you wherever you go. Clovers to drive away mysterious creatures of the night," his lips lift. "Ah, speaking of that…"

The bell rings, your focus on the door. A few patrons enter, distracting you. Just as you finish helping and guiding their questions away from your missing boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever he is – you look over to the loveseat and see it empty. Seonghwa must have slipped away while you were distracted. Resting beneath the teacup is way too much money. With a small note wrapped around it.

Thank you for the tea.

Next to the sentence lies a small drawing of a four-leaf clover.

—

You stare at the computer, frustration growing. The webpage doesn't help you in the slightest. Lines and lines of retellings of the same old tales. Faeries are dangerous, stay away from the fae. Don't listen to the fae, don't accept gifts from them. The same things over and over. Words that have been embedded into your very being. Nothing of which is news to you. Your eyes flick to the small list you've created, summarizing everything you've read thus far and narrowing it to a few points.

How to survive an encounter with an Unseelie fae [fǣġe]:

Do not eat what they offer. Do not drink what they offer.

Majik always has a price, do not risk a deal. Do not ask for them to save a loved one. Do not ask for them to take your firstborn. Do not accept any offer they may give you.

Do not invite them into your home.

Faeries cannot lie. Because of this, they are eloquent with their words. Do not be fooled.

Do not summon an Unseelie.

If you see something strange, leave immediately. Four leaf clovers are a sign of a faerie near.

Do not celebrate with faeries. Under any circumstances.

Do not enter the forest at night.

If you are followed by a crow or raven, enter the nearest home and do not leave until it is gone. The Unseelie are following you.

Do not fall in love with a faerie, they will not love you the same.

"This is so insane," You put your head in your hands. Maybe that's why Soobin left. He saw how you'd turn out before you even did. You snort at the thought, rubbing your face. Seonghwa's drawing of the four-leaf clover could be just a coincidence. It's not like it isn't an obvious symbol painted and carved into almost every building around town. And yet, the way he's acted, the stares you felt on you when your back was turned – something was off with him. Even if he isn't a faerie, he's something.

Or you're truly just being silly.

You stare at the list again, adding one more point.

Faeries are not affected by four-leaf clovers.