#if you need something else tagged let me know

[deathbxnny]

Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)

I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!

The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader

I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33

Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.

You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.

And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.

》VI

"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.

It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.

Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.

Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.

She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.

"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."

You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.

》JINX

"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.

Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.

"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.

"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.

"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"

Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.

》CAITLYN

She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.

Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.

And this time she had finally succeeded.

Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.

"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.

"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.

You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."

You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.

Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.

A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.

[loulovingho]

tags: violence (gay bashing), homophobic slurs, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, healing, heading toward getting back together, happy-enough ending

(ao3 link or read below)

Like Fine China

“Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? You hear me? Try to keep your eyes open.”

He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard it was just a few weeks ago, at the hospital. Who was it for though? Why was he at the hospital that time?

His brain felt like a jumbled mess. His body felt even worse.

He just wanted to sleep.

“Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?”

Athena! That's who was speaking to him.

He opened his mouth, cracked one eye open. God, it hurt!

“I- I'm,” the words felt foreign as they escaped him. His voice didn't sound like his own. His mouth was dry, and held a bad taste.

Whiskey and... and metal.

Blood.

“Tommy, paramedics are on their way, okay? I just need you to stay with me until they get here.”

It was dark, but something was shining bright in his face.

“Flash... Flashlight,” he managed to get out, squeezing his eye back shut.

“Eyes- Eye open, Tommy. I'll get the flashlight out of your face, but I need to know you're with me.”

Wait. Had she said paramedics? They couldn't. He couldn't let them- let him see.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled out, shaking his head a couple times until a sharp pain shot through it. “No, h- he can't. I don't-”

��They're not on shift, Tommy.”

He tried to push himself up, away from where she hovered over him. He didn't manage to get very far before she placed a hand on his chest.

“Tommy, you cannot get up. I need you to stay still, and stay conscious. Those two things are your only jobs. You hear me?”

“I can't,” his words were so garbled. He coughed up the blood that'd been dripping down his throat.

I can't let him see.”

“Listen to me, Tommy!” Athena exclaimed, getting right in Tommy's face. He could barely see her, but he could feel her breath on his face. “They're not coming. Buck isn't coming; it'll be someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. He didn't feel relief. Didn't feel much of anything at all. He was fading, fast. It took all his energy to force out one last sentence before he lost consciousness. “Don't... Don't tell him.”

*****

He just wanted to go out for a drink. Something a little stronger than craft beer.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Evan- no, Buck. He was Buck now.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Buck and the ache in his chest felt the same way it did the second he walked out of the loft.

He'd thought he was saving himself from future heartbreak, and maybe he was, but it didn't quite make it hurt any less.

Georgie's wasn't exactly a gay bar, but Georgie was gay and the bar itself became a sort of unofficial hang out for older people in the lgbtq+ community. No loud music and everyone left each other alone. A perfect place to decompress while still allowing yourself to be free.

After a couple of whiskey sours, and yeah, a pitcher of craft beer, Tommy was ready to go.

He waited outside, near the alleyway, for his Uber. He found himself going to his messages, hovering over Evan's name. He hadn't had the heart to change it to Buck yet.

He'd been wanting to text him since the breakup. Talk about it some more. Actually give a reason for why it- why he- fell apart so fast. How Buck's words triggered some terrible memories for him. How he suddenly realized there was no way he could be everything he thought Buck needed. Everything Buck deserved. Not to mention they hadn't even exchanged I love you's. And it was insane to think all of Tommy's things could fit in Buck's loft. Buck's things could fit in his house so much easier!

He clicked on Evan's name, started to type something out, erased it, started again, erased it again.

He was usually so aware of his surroundings. His time in the military did that to him. It did a lot of things to him actually, many of which he wasn't very thankful for. However, he prided himself on not being oblivious.

Tonight he was oblivious.

He didn't expect five men to jump him at once. He was a strong guy. Had taken on three men about fifteen years earlier. Did it with ease too.

But not five men. Not when one had a bat, and one had brass knuckles, and one was at least 6'5 and three hundred pounds. Not when they dragged him to the ground and into the alley before he had a chance to react. Screaming slurs at him as they took turns using his body as a punching bag.

He tried to fight. At one point, he was sure he kicked one of the guy's in the face. Heard him yell something like, “The fag broke my tooth!”

It only made things worse.

He wasn't sure when he first lost consciousness, but he knew they were still on top of him. Still laughing as they hit and kicked. He heard the sounds of someone spitting at some point. Felt wet on his face.

Then there was nothing.

Until someone stepped out from somewhere, and maybe they heard him groan? Maybe it was his Uber driver wondering where he was? Maybe it was an employee taking out the trash? He wasn't sure. He could barely hear someone telling him they were calling the police. There was a ringing in his ears, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Someone said something about wheezing, barely breathing. He wondered what that was about.

Then there was Athena. Then nothing again.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He was confused. Could barely see out of one eye and everything was blurry out of the other.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and maybe some tiny humans hitting his brain with hammers.

“Are you... awake awake or not really awake?”

The sound of a man's voice startled him. He couldn't hardly move, but he was able to focus his eyes across the room at the figure in the corner.

“Ed- Eddie?”

God, his voice sounded weird. Why did it sound like that? Like he'd spent the last 30 years smoking a pack a day.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

He sounded hesitant. Maybe they'd had this conversation before? If they had, Tommy certainly didn't remember it.

“Wha- Why?”

Eddie stepped closer. “You're in the hospital, Man.”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. No duh.

He settled for clearing his throat, which turned into a burning sensation running down his chest. “Why're you... here?” he tried. Hoped Eddie understood that much.

“Tommy-”

“I t- told Athena-” he had to pause to take a breath. “Told her not to tell.”

“Actually, you told Athena not to tell him. And she assumed, correctly, I'm sure, that him was Buck. So she called me instead.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why'd she call me? Oh, maybe because you don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact and you were nearly beat to death so she figured you might need someone to be here when you woke up.”

Tommy's jaw clenched at Eddie's harsh words.

Nearly beat to death.

He was nearly beat to death.

Eddie either noticed Tommy's heart rate going up on the monitor, or his eyes filling with tears, because he was right beside his bed in two strides. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I- I'm kinda pissed, Man.”

“S'okay,” Tommy replied, swallowing hard. “I deserve it.”

Eddie looked taken aback. “No, I'm not- Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this,” he said, gesturing over Tommy's body. “I've never seen...” Eddie's voice trailed off and, through Tommy's own blurry vision, he could see that Eddie was close to crying.

“What'd they do to me?” Tommy asked, barely able to take in all his injuries. His entire body hurt, no part any worse or less than the other. He could feel something on every limb, but he couldn't quite move his head around enough to see what it was.

Eddie took a deep breath. He wiped at his eyes with his fingers, sniffling before getting started. “You've got bruising on about seventy-five percent of your body. You had surgery for a busted kneecap on your right knee. Your left arm has a fracture, and your right one has thirty stitches, I think. They broke a few ribs, so it's gonna hurt like hell when you take a deep breath or cough. Um, you had some internal bleeding, but they got that under control pretty fast. You've got a fracture in your cheek, which may cause some extra pain when you talk. You've got a few broken fingers too, and lost a couple fingernails during your- when you were defending yourself.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed once Eddie was done. “S'that all?”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure I missed a couple things, actually, jackass.”

Tommy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a groan. “Thanks for coming, Eddie,” he said, trying and failing at moving himself into a slightly more comfortable position. “You don't have to stay though. I'll be fine.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. “You're kidding me.”

Tommy shifted his eyes back in Eddie's direction. “No, I- I'll be okay. I've got it. Just,” he paused to take a breath, “don't let Buck know, please.”

Eddie raised a finger toward Tommy. “Well, see, about that. You only told Athena not to tell him before, and-”

“You didn't.”

“-and see he was already at my place when I got the call, so-”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“I have one with cream and one with sugar and- Oh my God, you're awake!” The sound of Buck's voice had Tommy's head twisting toward the door so quickly that a pain shot from the bottom of his back all the way to the top of his head. “Ow!” he yelped, clenching his teeth and tossing his head against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my God. Has the nurse come in yet? Have they checked his vitals? Eddie, you said he'd be out for a while! Tommy, do you feel any nausea? Do you remember who we are? The nurses said you might have-”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed. “Stop. He's okay.” He glanced over at Tommy, “I did forget to mention the head trauma.”

Tommy groaned, giving him a glare.

Eddie walked over to Buck and took the drink carrier from his hands. “I'll go find a nurse, you stay with him.”

Tommy wanted to yell out to Eddie to please not go, and also screw you, and maybe throw a couple hand gestures in there too. He stayed silent instead.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, hesitating slightly before walking up to the side of the bed. “So, you're-”

“I want to see myself,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, um, I... Tommy, I don't. It might be better to wait.”

Tommy managed to move his head enough to look up at Buck. He could see the fear- no, the panic- in Buck's eyes.

“I wanna see," he repeated.

“Tommy-”

“Buck!” It took a lot of strength to get his name out so forcefully, and he didn't quite mean it to sound as angry as it did, but this wasn't Buck's decision. It was his. And he wanted to see what he looked like.

Buck pulled his phone from his back pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled up the camera.

Slowly, he lifted the phone up to Tommy's face.

The second it registered that he was looking at himself, Tommy sucked in a breath. He grimaced as pain radiated through his chest but, when Buck went to move the camera away he stopped him. “No,” he said. “Just. Just wait.”

He knew his eyes were swollen by how out of focus his vision was, but he had no idea just how bad they looked. The right was worse than the left, but both were an angry mixture of black, purple, and green. The bruise on the left side of his face ran down his cheek to his jaw, circling underneath his chin like a half moon and fading into his facial hair. There were marks on his neck. Looked like someone's hand. He could understand Eddie's hesitancy on mentioning that. He didn't remember anyone gripping him there, which was probably for the best.

His forehead had more bruises, and cuts too. There was dried blood at his hairline, some stitched up cuts. His curly hair was nearly matted to his head, his scalp a brutal crimson.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your hair with a washcloth,” Buck explained anxiously, “but you have some lacerations on your scalp and I didn't want to bother them until they healed a little more.”

It was all so overwhelming. There was a whirring sound in his ears that made him feel dizzy. His eyes burned as they filled with tears that he didn't have the strength to wipe away.

“Okay,” he said, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat. “Can you- You can go, please. I don't... You can go.”

“Tommy-”

“Ev- Buck, I'm awake, I'm fine, I don't need anyone here.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look Buck in the eyes. “Please.”

“No.”

Tommy really didn't feel like dealing with stubborn Evan right now. “I don't-”

“I don't really care, Tommy. I'm not leaving you here. I've been at this damn hospital for three days now and I'm staying until you go home. I don't care what-”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Got the nurse,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. The nurse, to her credit, ignored all the tension in the room.

“Let me get some hand sanitizer and gloves and I'll be right with you, Mr. Kinard.”

Buck sighed. He stepped even closer to Tommy. “I'm gonna go into the hall long enough for the nurse to check you out,” he said, maneuvering himself until he was halfway leaning over the bed, his arm on the other side of Tommy to prop himself up as he forced him to make eye contact. “I will be back in a few minutes. You have people who care about you, Tommy, whether you like it or not.”

With that said, Buck stood back up and left the room.

*****

Tommy spent a few more days in the hospital before he was released. There were only two times that Buck left long enough to get a shower and get a little rest in a real bed. Both of those times, he made sure Eddie was there the entire time.

Athena had come in to get his statement. Asked him all sorts of questions, most of which Tommy couldn't answer. He hadn't really gotten a good look at them. Only had very basic descriptions. He remembered the slurs they had hurled at him, knew they attacked because he was gay. He couldn't really figure out how they knew though. Besides being outside of that bar, it wasn't like Tommy ever did anything that screamed gay. Not that it mattered.

She'd been honest with him. There were no cameras at that part of the street, or in the alleyway. No one got a good description of the attackers, and the person who called the police only saw their shadows as they disappeared into the night. She'd do everything she could, but it wasn't likely they'd find these men. At least, not until they did this again.

Bobby stopped by once with some homemade chicken noodle soup. Buck had to feed him every bite, which made Tommy feel like he was about to cry the entire time, but he managed half a bowl before he had to stop. It was a million times better than anything the hospital had been feeding him, and he was glad to know Bobby had put some in his freezer to give Tommy when he got home.

Chim and Maddie came one evening. He'd been asleep when they got there, woke up some time during their visit, but he kept his eyes shut until they left.

Honestly, every time someone walked through the doors he felt more and more like running out of the hospital and finding a hole to fall into. Then, if he were lucky, someone would just shovel some dirt over him and let him rest.

These weren't his people. They were Buck's people. They didn't need to be there for him. They needed to hate him. They needed to laugh at his bruises and tell him he deserved every last one. They needed to yell at him for breaking Buck's heart to try and save his own.

That'd be a lot easier than this.

Thankfully, Hen and Karen didn't come by. They did send flowers though, and a card that explained both kids had strep throat and they didn't want to risk bringing that to the hospital. They'd come by Tommy's place once he was home.

He and Buck didn't talk about anything that needed to be talked about. All the unsent messages that had swirled through Tommy's mind didn't matter right now. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them. Right now was not the time to try and fix whatever happened between them. Right now was about Tommy healing.

*****

As soon as they got Tommy home, Buck left Eddie with him so he could go to the pharmacy and pick up his medications. When he got back, Eddie headed out to go home and rest, promising to come back later with a variety of foods that would be easy on Tommy to eat.

The silence felt more... silent at Tommy's house. It was different now that they were at home instead of a hospital with people coming in and out at all times.

Tommy needed to do something, say something, to break the silence.

“I wasn't on a date,” he muttered out as Buck organized his pain meds on his nightstand.

Buck paused briefly before getting right back to it. “Didn't think you were.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. I just, I don't know, didn't want you to think that.”

“You go to Georgie's when your brain is working overtime and you need it to quiet down.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't know I ever told you that.”

“You didn't,” Buck replied, handing Tommy his pills and a glass of water. “I just know you.”

Tommy swallowed the pills, wincing slightly. His throat still felt scratchy even a week later. “I don't know how they knew,” he said as Buck took the water from him and set it on his nightstand.

“Who knew what?”

“Those guys that-” he stopped. “I don't know how they knew I was gay.”

“A lot of queer people hang out at Georgie's,” Buck answered. “They probably took a guess.”

The thought of it made Tommy's stomach lurch. “I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people couldn't guess.”

Buck watched him for a moment quizzically. “Tommy, you're not... You don't blame yourself for this, do you? You know this wasn't your fault, right?”

Tommy avoided eye contact with Buck. He felt so small right now. “I know I didn't do anything to provoke them.”

“That doesn't really answer my question.”

“I just... I don't know what I could have done differently. I know I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I... I should probably go to a different bar, maybe. I don't know.”

“You can't be serious right now.”

“This is everything I feared my entire life, Buck,” Tommy admitted and, God, he wished he could shut up right now. The pain pills were starting to make him a little loose lipped, mixed with him truly being alone with Buck for the first time since they broke up, mixed with an undeniable fear every time he thought about that night, seemed to make it impossible to close his mouth. “I did everything to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to me and it still did. I keep thinking about it and wondering how it could have been different. How I could have been different.”

“Tommy, can you look at me?”

Slowly, Tommy looked up at Buck, his eyes shining with tears.

“This was not your fault. There's nothing you could or should have done differently. You cannot let those five men shove you back into a closet.”

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “They're not. It's just... a lot right now.”

“I get that, I- I do. You look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit, okay? I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Buck, you don't-”

“If you tell me I don't need to stay I will force feed you bone broth when you wake up.”

Tommy shivered. “Ugh! I hate bone broth.”

“I know you do.” Buck gently pulled a pillow out from under Tommy, allowing him to lie back easier. “Close your eyes, get some rest. I'm here when you need me.”

*****

They were bound to fight sometime. Tommy had honestly expected it to happen sooner. Buck had been staying with him for three weeks now, only gone when he was working a shift. Bobby had let him work part time for now, with Carla caring for him when Buck was gone.

They'd managed to get past the initial awkwardness. Buck rambled about any and every subject he could think of. They'd watch movies together on the couch, with Tommy falling asleep halfway through due to his pain meds.

Buck would get Tommy tucked in bed, then set himself up on Tommy's floor in case he was needed during the night. Tommy had tried to insist he use the spare room, but Buck wouldn't hear of it. He knew Tommy wouldn't call for him if he needed him through the night.

Then Tommy tried to suggest he sleep in the bed. But that was a no go because, “I kick, Tommy, you know this. Do you really want another knee surgery?”

They'd been focused on Tommy getting better. And they'd been ignoring the many, many elephants in the room.

So, a fight was expected.

What wasn't expected was for the fight to start because Tommy needed to pee.

Buck had seemed a bit more on edge today, but Tommy chalked that up to a shift that ran longer than expected.

Tommy had grabbed his crutches, which he'd just been able to start using to go short distances. He still didn't quite trust himself to use them at night, but he was working toward relying on them more and relying on people less.

When he stood, Buck immediately stood with him.

“I'm fine, Buck. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll help you there.”

“I'm really fine. I can get there by myself.”

Tommy was sure he had kept his tone neutral. He definitely didn't want an argument tonight. But, before he could even make it two steps, he heard Buck scoff. “Not surprised.”

And maybe it was the full bladder making him extra bitchy, but Tommy couldn't help turning around and asking, “What's that mean?”

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Obviously it's not nothing. If it were nothing you wouldn't have said anything in the first place. What doesn't surprise you?”

“Just you, ya know, pushing people away. It's what you do.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed out. “If I'm pushing people away then I really suck at it because you haven't left my house in three weeks. I just need to pee.”

“I'm not talking about right now. I'm talking about me telling you that I loved you and you breaking up with me.”

How in the hell did they end up here?

“You didn't tell me you loved me, Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, unbelievably confused. The sudden change in tone caused Buck to take a step back.

He was only thrown off for a second, quick with a retort. “Of course I did!”

“No, you absolutely did not! You asked me to move in with you, but you did not tell me you loved me.”

“Wait. You asked him to move in with you?” Eddie's voice had them glaring in his direction. Both had forgotten he was even there in the first place. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Well, I- it was obviously implied,” Buck argued. “I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't love you.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?! You were making it sound like I was some gay hero that sewed the first pride flag! I don't even go to pride events, Evan! All the colors are far too bright and the glitter never leaves you.”

“Glitter is really annoying,” Eddie agreed.

Tommy pointed a crutch at him. “Thank you.”

“I was not trying to make you out to be some gay hero, Tommy! I was telling you that I was comfortable with you. I was telling you I wanted to spend all my time with you. I wanted us to be together!”

“You didn't even think it through, Evan!” Tommy motioned around the room. “I own a home. It comes with two bedrooms that have doors, a garage, a back yard, and two and a half bathrooms. You asked me to move into your loft.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck's eyes shot over to him. “You're still here why?”

Eddie stood from his spot on the couch, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I'm going. Later.”

They both stayed silent until they heard the door open and close.

Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This is our first fight, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “It is.”

“Took us long enough.”

Tommy managed a small smile. “Probably should have fought you that night, honestly.”

“I think I would have felt better if you did.”

“Me too.” Tommy took a deep breath. “I actually really do have to pee,” he said, shifting from one crutch to the other. “Can we pause this until I'm done?”

Buck nodded. “I'll be here.”

They didn't actually fight anymore after that. It was time for Tommy to take his meds, which made him tired, and Buck was tired himself from his shift. Tommy laid in bed, Buck snoring on the floor beside him, thinking it all over. All the things he still felt like he needed to say. The unfinished business they had between them.

The fight wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

For now.

*****

“Are you sure you're good on your own?” Buck asked as Tommy limped behind him toward the door.

“I'm sure. I can successfully do everything on my own now with minimal to no pain.”

Buck turned back to him quickly, eyes wide. “But there's still pain?”

Tommy smiled. “I'm fine, Evan.”

Buck didn't look so sure. “Okay, I... Okay.” Instinctively, he moved forward to wrap Tommy in a hug. He stopped himself before he got too close, but Tommy responded by opening his arms.

Buck's posture relaxed as he gently wrapped his arms around Tommy, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I was so worried about you," he whispered in the space between them.

"I know."

“You'll call the number I gave you?” he asked.

“I already did yesterday,” Tommy admitted. “When you went out to pick up dinner. My first session is next Monday.”

“Good. That's... That's good.”

“Thank you, Evan. For everything you've done for me. You didn't have to do that.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulled himself away from Tommy.

“Did you realize you've been calling me Evan since our fight a couple weeks ago?” he asked, lips upturning into a smile.

“Oh, um,” Tommy shifted on his feet, taking the pressure off his bad knee. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Don't be sorry. I hate when you call me Buck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I'll always- I wanna be Evan, to you.”

Tommy nodded, staring into Evan's eyes. “Okay. That's. I'd like that too.”

Buck continued toward the door, stopping again as soon as his hand touched the handle. He looked back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you think about texting me... hit send, okay?”

Tommy had never mentioned that before. But he'd caught Buck's near-texts to him too, so it didn't quite catch him off guard. “I'm kinda a mess, Evan. I'm not as comfortable as you think I am. I'm not... I'm still figuring things out.”

“That's okay. I am too. Text me anyway.”

“Even if I'm asking you out for a coffee? So we can talk? Really talk?”

“Date and time, I'll be there.” Buck smiled softly at him as he opened the door to leave. “I'll get your order right this time.”

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Rafe stands and looks down at the body, his fists clenched tightly. Reality is setting in now. He could go to prison. His future could be ruined.

He’s perpetually at the mercy of his impulsivity, thinking only of the minute he’s living in, burdened with the consequences later. But still, even with his head a little clearer, he doesn’t regret this.

Ripping away the life of a man who wronged him was a thrill. He spends every day feeling like he’s losing and the power he had in his hands tonight felt so fucking good. He won for once.

You feel heavy as you push yourself up off the floor. You wish you could curl up in your bathtub under hot, gushing water, washing away everything that happened tonight.

The corpse is harder to look at with every second that passes. You glance up at Rafe, blood splattered on his face as he stares down at what he’d done, at what you’d done, chillingly unfazed.

“We can’t leave anything that’ll point back to me,” he mumbles, his voice low over the fireworks still crackling outside.

“Or me,” you have to remind him tensely.

His eyes land on yours. He’s always only looking out for himself. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have to worry about someone else.

“I’m serious,” you urge. Your survival instinct rushes through you for the second time tonight. You refuse to let Rafe throw you to the wolves. “I saved your life. You owe me. I won’t take the fall for this.”

“Well, neither will I,” he snaps.

“You shot him.”

“I could say you did,” Rafe replies. “And it’d be your word against mine. What then?”

You scoff, in disbelief of his selfishness.

“I saved your life,” you repeat. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

Rafe swallows hard. He’s not sure many people would do what you did for him tonight. They’d watch. They’d let him die. The possibility that you might feel something for him makes his chest twist with an unfamiliar warmth.

“We’ll look out for each other, alright?” he relents, letting his guard down for a moment. “Let’s just clean this up.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket again. You pull it out, seeing Pope’s name. Twelve missed calls.

You hope your friends don’t get so worried that they come up here, ignoring the Off Limits sign Porter had put up across the stairs. But they don’t know where you went. You’re almost certain.

“My friends keep calling me,” you whisper.

Rafe’s jaw tightens. His friends aren’t worrying about him.

“You can’t answer them,” he snaps.

“I know.” You let out a shaky sigh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “We have to be fast. What do we do? Do we bury him?”

Rafe takes a beat to think.

“We dump him in the ocean,” he finally says. “We go to the marina and drive my boat out far enough where nobody will find him.”

“How do we move him so nobody sees? We can’t go through the house. We might run into someone.”

Rafe looks to the glass door on the other end of the room, the balcony offering a view of the inky night sky.

“There,” he says. “We’ll push him off and put him in the back of my truck.”

You consider it. Of the limited options you have, it seems like the only one worth trying.

“Okay. We have to clean the blood off the floor,” you say. “And everything we touch needs to be wiped. Maybe there’s something with bleach in it around here?”

For the first time since you entered this room, you feel hope. There’s a chance, a real chance, you could get away with this. You look back at the desk Rafe ransacked.

“Pick that stuff up,” you say. Frustration rolls through him. He never liked being bossed around. “I’ll try to find something to clean with.”

“Don’t let anyone see you,” Rafe mutters.

“How stupid do you think I am?” you huff before you turn towards the door.

You tiptoe through the second story, peeking into a bathroom cupboard. When you find a spray bottle that reads Cleaner and Bleach on the packaging, you grab it and head back to the room.

You and Rafe move quickly and quietly, using clothes you found in the closet to wipe everything with bleach. After a loud, consonant cracking of fireworks that you assume is the grand finale, the show ends. And you know people are on their way back to the house.

The neighbor’s private beach can’t be that far away. You have a minute. Maybe two.

You’re glad Rafe thinks to find the shell of the bullet. He puts it in his pocket. You spray the bleach over the floor again, cleaning every drop of blood you can see.

“Tuck this stuff under his shirt,” you say breathlessly, handing Rafe the bottle and the blood-soaked clothes.

You can’t do it. You know you’ll need to touch him when you move him, but you’d rather limit the contact you have with his body. Even dead, when he can’t hurt you, touching him is terrifying.

You pick the gun up off the floor, then open the balcony, relieved you can’t hear any voices yet. You peer over the edge to see the sandy ground. The balcony overlooks the side of the house, dark and secluded.

Rafe grunts as he drags the corpse out onto the balcony. You have to muster up every bit of strength you have as you help heave Porter’s body over the railing. He falls with a hard thud, facedown in the sand.

You have to jump the balcony. You can’t risk going downstairs. Rafe is wide-eyed as you hitch your leg over the railing, looking down with shaky breaths.

“Wait,” he whispers. “Let me go first. If you break something, we’re fucked.”

He shifts down as low as he can before letting his feet hang over the edge. He lets go, dropping hard, his ankles pinching with pain from the impact.

“Okay,” he says. “Go.”

You feel a splinter dig into your palm as you clutch onto the wooden railing with one hand while the other holds the gun. You make the split-second decision to keep the balcony door open to air out the smell of bleach.

You hope you cleaned away every drop of blood in the room. There’s no going back to it now.

You sink, hanging as low as you can, looking over your shoulder before you drop. Rafe’s arms wrap around you as your feet hit the ground, his chest hard against your back, breaking your fall.

“If someone comes,” he whispers in your ear, “run.”

Waiting for him to get his truck is torture. The humid night air presses against your face and you can’t bear to look down at the body on the ground.

Rafe returns and you move quickly, straining as you carry the body over the uneven terrain, the soles of your shoes slipping on the sand.

Once the body is in the trunk and Rafe unfolds the cover, blanketing the cab and concealing the evidence, you feel a shred less frightened.

You glance back into the darkness just in case. A glow of a phone screen is in the sand. Rafe is already behind the wheel, demanding that you get in, his voice carrying through the open rear window.

You feel for your phone. It’s still in your pocket.

“Do you have your phone?” you whisper.

He responds after a moment, “Yes. Get in.”

“I think his phone fell on the ground when we were carrying him,” you say. “We should–”

Faint laughs in the distance interrupt you. There’s no time to run back and get the phone without being seen.

“Get the hell in,” Rafe mutters angrily.

You obey, swinging open the door, barely closing it in time as Rafe peels away. Your muscles prick from the weight you’d just carried as you drive past the partygoers coming back from watching fireworks.

“Holy shit,” Rafe chuckles, near elated. “We did it.”

You stare ahead, your head foggy.

This will haunt you for the rest of your life. The thought forces a torrent of dread through you worse than you’ve ever felt before.

What if you’d run out of the room when Rafe and Porter came in? What if you’d left Rafe to deal with the body on his own?

What if you’d never gone upstairs?

You’re destined to agonize over the what if’s of tonight forever.

You gaze down at the gun in your lap and hold your hands out in front of you, skin stinging from the bleach. You’d wiped away the blood, but you think you’ll always see it on your hands.

You figure out that it’s a good thing you left Porter’s phone. If he was sharing his location, you’re sure the police could track where it was last before you threw it into the sea with him. They’d know exactly where to look for his body.

“We should shut off our phones,” you realize. “I think they can track GPS history from cell towers.”

Rafe digs into his pocket, glancing down to watch the screen go black.

“How’d you think of that?” he mumbles with a laugh. “Is this not your first time doing this, Pogue?”

“Nothing about this is funny,” you reply.

“Relax,” he says. “We got away with it.”

“You can’t be so sure,” you say. “One fingerprint in that room and…”

You can’t think about it.

In the paroxysm of emotions you’re already feeling, guilt digs a hole into your stomach when you see Pope’s most recent text before you power off your phone.

Answer the phone. We’re worried.

·········

The clock on Rafe’s dashboard reads 10:44 when you reach the marina. He parks right by the main dock. The place seems quiet, the water crowded with seemingly unoccupied boats.

“I’ll take a walk around to make sure we’re alone,” he says, pulling his key out of the ignition.

The car door slams shut and you’re left with a gun in your lap, a body in the trunk, and your tormenting thoughts.

Maybe you missed something back in that room.

You picture Porter’s phone lighting up in the sand. His last text to you said to come upstairs. When the cops inevitably start searching for answers, you’ll be questioned.

A minute later, Rafe swings open your door, pulling you out of your daze. You meet his glare, his hair tousled and sweaty.

“We’re good,” he says. “Move.”

Having to haul the body over the dock past darkened, quiet boats is unnerving. Ater you leave it at the back of Rafe’s boat, you stand behind him at the helm.

Your arms are crossed and the gun is tucked by your elbow, because if you learned anything tonight, it’s that you can’t trust anyone.

Rafe’s still a man. A man who takes what he wants when he wants it. A man who killed someone because he didn’t obey him. He could hurt you if he wanted to. It’s best not to be alone with him.

“I should wait in the car,” you mumble. Rafe shakes his head in frustration, driving the boat forward. The boat’s motor hums as you rock with its movements.

“No,” he mutters condescendingly. It reminds you of why underneath the stubborn pull you’ve always felt towards him, you’ve also harbored a quiet fear. Rafe is violent. Possibly enough to hurt you the same way Porter did.

You feel for the gun again. If two men have to die tonight, so be it. The fact that your mind went there chills you.

Rafe looks over at you, lips twisting in annoyance.

“Don’t feel bad for that asshole,” he mutters. “He asked for it.”

It’s the worst possible thing he could’ve said. Your throat is raw with the threat of tears. Asked for it. Would he say the same about what happened to you?

“I don’t regret it,” you tell him, sure that he’s assuming that that’s why you’re so tense. “I’m just worried we missed something.”

“If we did, nothin’ we can do about it now,” he says. You look ahead at the dark sea, moonlight shining over the water’s ripples.

“We need to figure our story out,” you say. “How’d you end up upstairs? Did anyone see you?”

“I stopped him while everyone was going outside to watch the show,” he recalls. “Told him to show me where he was keeping his coke because I heard he was selling again. It was loud. I don’t think anyone heard, but maybe someone saw. I don’t know.”

“Why do you sell?” you ask, face pinched in confusion. “Why did you even care that he was selling, too? You don't have enough money already?”

“I gotta keep your tips coming, don’t I?” he says smugly. You scoff, jarred by his blasé attitude, despising his cold arrogance.

He notices the angry scowl on your face. He’s convinced he’ll never break through the hatred you have for him.

“I want to make my own money. That’s why,” he admits. It’s half the truth, but it’s good enough.

It’s surprising to hear that Rafe, a man you thought coasted on the wealth he was born into, possesses a work ethic. Even though he uses it to deal drugs.

“Did anyone see you go upstairs?” he asks.

“I don’t think so,” you say.

“Why were you there?”

You chew on your lip, the truth sitting on your chest like a ton of bricks. There’s no point in telling him. He thinks your motive was the same as his. Money. And you’ll let him believe it.

Besides, talking about it now, merely an hour afterwards, will only make you cry again and your head is pounding from how much you’ve already wept tonight. How could you possibly say it out loud?

“To buy pot. Then I smoked too much and passed out.” You keep talking before he can ask anything else. “Are we far out enough?”

Rafe looks back to make sure the marina is out of sight before he kills the engine.

Pushing Porter’s body over the guardrail is harder than the other times you’d carried him tonight. The water is rocking the boat so much now that you’re far into the ocean. Your breath is strained as you heave him over the metal, his body hitting the water with a loud splash under the bright moon.

Rafe pulls out the bullet shell in his pocket and tosses it in the water. You know you have to throw the gun in, too. It’s hard to. But you do it.

Rafe looks over the edge now that everything is sinking to the bottom, his forearm brushing against yours. He notices how quickly you jerk away, refusing to let him touch you. The pull he feels towards you is obviously one-sided. Your eyes flit away when you look at him.

“You have blood on your face,” you tell him soberly. His temper flares, feeling stupid for thinking a girl could feel anything but afraid of him after he shot someone right in front of her. Even though she was the one who told him to do it.

You might have a deadly thirst for revenge in common, but that’s where the similarities end. He stalks past you to wash himself off in the bathroom below the deck.

You let out a shaky breath. The unexpected contact with Rafe startled you. After tonight, you’re sure you’ll always be scared to be around men you don’t know all that well. Even the ones that seem decent are just lions in sheep’s clothing. The monster that proved that to you is below the ocean’s surface now.

You look into the murky water, and despite the fear and the anxiety and dread weighing on your heart, you’re glad that this is how it ended. Porter paid the ultimate price for what he did to you. He doesn’t deserve to live, to smile, to feel anything ever again.

·········

You and Rafe sit behind the hull, the boat swaying with the tide. You start to piece together an alibi and decide to admit you were upstairs together. If even one person says they saw either one of you go up there, you won’t be caught in a lie.

As you talk, Rafe can’t take his eyes off of you. You’re clearly scared, but trying to stay level-headed. He doesn’t get how you do it. He’s always been bad at keeping his mind steady. He never had a reason to even try.

“So, I went up first after he texted me to come buy from him,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. “I got high and passed out. Then you came up with him to find his stash. We’re obviously going to have to come clean about the drugs.”

“What do you mean obviously?”

“You’re going to be a suspect the second the police start talking to people,” you tell him. “Everyone knows you had an issue with him. And why. You can’t lie about the coke. And they’ll have evidence that I was buying weed from him. We have to be honest about it. They’ll find out anyway.”

Rafe sighs, knowing you’re right.

You hug yourself as a cool breeze carries over the water. The weakness in your gaze reminds Rafe of the way you’d cried on the floor earlier tonight. Before all this, he only ever saw you as strong-willed and sharp-tongued.

Even though calming a man like Rafe down when he’s angry sounds like it’d be impossible, you figure it’s the only direction your alibi can go.

“We’ll say I talked you down and…” You shake your head. “It doesn’t make sense that we’d stay up there. I think we say we left him in his room and sat on the beach alone in front of the house to watch the fireworks from there.”

You worry it’s not enough. You’re certain that no one who knows either one of you would buy that you voluntarily spent time together.

“Maybe the cops would believe we hung out,” you mumble, “but nobody else would.”

Rafe stills. His friends like to give him crap about how much time he spends talking to you when he supposedly hates Pogues. If he told them he was with you all night, they’d say they saw it coming.

“They could,” he says after a few seconds of silence.

“My friends would never believe it,” you scoff. He purses his lips, pissed off at your tone, at the clear implication that you talk shit about him with your friends.

“It’s our only option,” he mutters sharply.

“You’re right,” you give in. “Then what? We went home before people got back? I guess that way if anyone saw us leave together, we have it covered.”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “That’s the story.”

“Okay. It’s not great, but it’s the best we can do.” You check your phone for the time, only to remember it’s turned off. “Can you drive me home now? I’ll say my phone died. You should do the same when people ask where you’ve been.”

Rafe doesn’t admit to you that nobody was checking up on him, that nobody ever does. He only stands up to drive back to the dock.

·········

Your first priority when you get home is to text your friends, guilt consuming you now that it’s been over two hours since you last saw them and they have no idea what happened to you.

You turn on your phone to see a string of missed calls and texts from the guys. You open the group-chat and type: I’m so sorry. I’m okay. Got too high and lost track of time. Home now.

They video call you to be sure that you really made it home safe, drunkenly rambling on about how they assumed you went to see the fireworks early, leaving them to search the neighbor’s beach for you.

As you listen to them talk over each other on the phone, it’s the first time you see your reflection since you left the house, when you were oblivious to the fact that the impending hours would change you forever.

You can see it in your eyes that you’re not the same. You can only hope that they don’t catch on.

·········

It’s been three days. You haven’t been sleeping. You’ve hardly been eating. And no matter how many times you tell yourself there’s no use in thinking about how different the night could have turned out, it doesn’t stop your head from spinning into hypotheticals.

All you told your friends was that you were with a boy and that they didn’t need to know any more. Because they all see you as a sister, they were happy to be spared the details.

If only they knew. A few nights ago, you promised them you wouldn’t talk about Rafe ever again. You never would’ve thought the reason would be because you’d committed a crime together.

You’re back at work. Smiling and chatting and serving drinks and acting like everything is fine is harder than you expected.

The thought of seeing Rafe again is oddly comforting. No matter how twisted it is, you have a bond now, held together by secrecy and shared trauma. He’s the closest to knowing what you’re going through.

Even though you were afraid of him on the boat, when he dropped you off, he waited until you got into the house before he drove off. Maybe he sees you as someone he needs to protect, even if it is for his own selfish reasons.

No matter how unhinged he is, having someone like him in your corner is comforting after what you’d suffered through.

You spot Rafe sitting alone at the near empty club bar on your way out and your heart settles, but when you catch a glimpse of the flatscreen mounted on the wall a moment later, it drops. You knew it was inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any better.

Rafe swallows bitter whiskey, gazing up at the tv. Under a photo of Porter reads MISSING as his parents speak to the press. What if he went missing? Who’d care? What would his dad say – at least it wasn’t Sarah?

He looks down at the bartop. The thrill of what he did has faded. It’s not a surprise. His life is nothing but a cycle of short-lived highs.

When he sees the look on Porter’s parents’ faces on the tv, jealousy and loneliness screw a hole into his heart. He knows it’s fucked up to envy the man he killed. He doesn’t care.

His eyes drift over the bar to see you standing on the other end. You’re in shock as you stare up at the broadcast, looking guilty as hell. He glares at you until you finally meet his eyes.

Rafe curtly gestures to you to sit next to him. Even though he looks mad, you’re relieved to close the distance between you.

“You’re being obvious,” he says quietly once you sit next to him, an edge to his tone.

You look back to see only a few other people sitting in the restaurant area behind you, far from earshot. You won’t be heard, but you both know you have to speak vaguely just in case.

“Someone I know is missing,” you reply. “It’s normal to be worried about that.”

“What do you know about normal?” he scoffs.

You lock eyes, sure that you’re both replaying the night in your minds, sure that you’re both far from sane after what you did. His gaze is cold, a reflection of how angry he is that you’re not handling what happened as well as he is.

“Great talking to you,” you snip sarcastically, shifting to stand up.

“Wait,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at you again, this time with a bit of the hardness in his eyes gone. “We need to talk.”

(to be continued)

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[faebled-stories]

The Book of Forbidden Pleasures

Kinkvember Day 24: Tentacles/DubCon

Billlie's Fukutomi Tsuki

AN: the story is tagged tentacles but they are described more as appendages/limbs.

Also this story takes place in the same universe as the Karina story. While you don’t need to have read that one to enjoy this, there are a few references and cameos from the previous story. Enjoy 😉 💖

The rain drummed softly against the windowpane, a rhythmic lullaby that mirrored the exhaustion weighing on Tsuki’s every step as she pushed open the door to her shared dorm. Her shoulders sagged under the relentless pressure of hours spent perfecting choreography, each muscle in her body throbbing with the dull ache of overuse. Her mind felt clouded, worn thin by endless repetitions and sharp corrections that still echoed in her head.

With a tired sigh, Tsuki kicked off her sneakers, the soft thud of rubber against the floor blending seamlessly with the faint hum of quiet conversation drifting from one of the bedrooms. The voices were low and soothing, a distant reminder of her roommates’ presence. Yet the dorm itself felt still, untouched, offering Tsuki the comforting illusion of solitude.

She dropped her bag unceremoniously by the door, glancing around the dimly lit living space. The golden glow of late evening filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. The couch called to her, its soft embrace promising a reprieve from the day’s demands. She was just about to collapse into it, letting her exhaustion take over, when a buzz in her pocket startled her.

Her phone.

Suppressing a faint flicker of irritation, Tsuki fumbled for the device, her fingers sluggish from fatigue. The brightness of the screen made her squint as she opened her notifications.

It was from Ningning, one of her closest friends.

“Hey Tsuki! Are you free to do me a huuuuge favor?”

Tsuki frowned, her thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. After the day she’d had, the last thing she wanted was to be roped into something she couldn’t say no to.

“Depends… what kind of favor?”

The reply came almost immediately, as if Ningning had been waiting, bubbles flickering on the screen before her next message popped up:

“Karina unnie asked me to house-sit for her while she’s away with her boyfriend, but I totally forgot my parents are coming to visit! Can you take over for a couple of days? pleeeaaasse.”

Tsuki exhaled a long, heavy sigh, letting her head fall back against the couch. Her rare free moments were precious, a reprieve from her relentless schedule that she guarded fiercely. Spending them house-sitting for someone else didn’t exactly sound like her idea of rest.

“I don’t know…”

She hadn’t even put her phone down when another message appeared, almost as if Ningning had anticipated her hesitation.

“Come ooon it's totally your vibe. It’s a really cool old house. You’d love it. Super aesthetic. I’ll buy you a meal for every day you stay. Please?”

Tsuki stared at the screen, the faint ache in her limbs tempting her to refuse outright. But the phrase “super aesthetic” sparked a small flicker of curiosity in her otherwise exhausted mind. She imagined it already—a house with charming quirks and old-world beauty, the kind of place she might dream about escaping to in her quieter moments.

With a resigned sigh, she typed back:

“Fine. Just for a couple of days, though.”

Almost instantly, her screen flooded with heart emojis, the animated reactions filling the chat with Ningning’s uncontainable excitement. Despite herself, Tsuki’s lips quirked upward into a faint smile, the warmth of her friend’s enthusiasm momentarily softening the fatigue clinging to her.

A few days later, Tsuki arrived at Karina’s house just as the morning rain began to subside. The heavy clouds lingered stubbornly in the sky, only partially allowing pale beams of sunlight to filter through. Her footsteps echoed softly as she stepped onto the wide porch, the wood beneath her shoes aged and weathered but polished by years of care. The air was cool and damp, carrying the earthy scent of rain-soaked ivy and faint traces of varnish, remnants of the house’s enduring upkeep.

She paused, taking in the sight of the house before her. It was even more striking than she had imagined. The red-brick façade was cloaked in ivy that twisted and curled with deliberate elegance, framing the arched windows like a living picture frame. Ornate wrought-iron railings lined the balcony above, their intricate patterns reminiscent of an older, more graceful time. The wide wooden door, its surface darkened with age and wear, stood as an imposing yet inviting gateway into a space that seemed steeped in history.

“This place is amazing,” Tsuki murmured to herself, her voice nearly lost in the soft rustle of ivy in the breeze.

The sound of the door creaking open startled her, and Ningning appeared, waving her inside with a bright grin. “Right?” Ningning said, stepping aside to let Tsuki in. “Unnie and her boyfriend are obsessed with it. It’s basically their dream house.” She adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder, gesturing for Tsuki to follow her.

As soon as Tsuki stepped inside, the house seemed to come alive around her. The distinct scent of lavender lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the sharper aroma of wood polish, like a memory etched into the house itself. Her gaze swept over the interior, taking in the dark wood railings of the staircase and the antique furniture arranged with effortless charm. The floors, polished to a muted shine, creaked gently underfoot, each sound a subtle reminder of the home’s age and character.

The house felt expansive yet intimate, its design inviting exploration while maintaining an air of quiet mystery. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, bathing the space in a golden haze that seemed to soften the edges of the walls and furniture. The intricate carvings on the staircase bannister and the subtle wear on the doorframes whispered of the countless lives and stories the house had witnessed over the years.

Ningning led her on a brisk tour, her voice light and cheerful as she pointed out the key areas of the house. “Here’s the kitchen—you probably won’t need it much, but everything’s labeled. Over there’s the sitting room, super cozy in the evenings. And down this hall is the guest bedroom. You’ll love it; it gets the best light in the mornings.”

Every room exuded a distinct personality, from the heavy curtains in the sitting room that softened the outside light to the mismatched yet harmonious furniture pieces that seemed carefully curated over time. The faint hum of the house settled around them, a low, almost imperceptible sound that only added to its allure.

They stopped near the staircase, where Tsuki’s gaze was immediately drawn to a narrow, unassuming door tucked discreetly into the hallway. It was plain compared to the rest of the house, with a slightly scuffed surface and a handle worn smooth by years of use. A faint draft escaped through the crack at its base, brushing against her legs and sending a chill up her spine.

Ningning adjusted the bag on her shoulder and gestured toward the door with a half-nervous smile. “Oh, and one more thing,” she said, her tone shifting slightly. “Don’t open this door, okay? Like, seriously, just… leave it alone.”

Tsuki tilted her head, her curiosity instantly piqued. “Why not?” she asked, her voice cautious yet intrigued.

Ningning hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the door as if wary it might open on its own. “Jimin unnie told me not to mess with it. She was super firm about it, and honestly? I didn’t ask. She seemed… weird about it. I think it creeps her out or something.” She let out a nervous laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, everything else is fine. Just keep the plants alive and, you know, make sure the place doesn’t burn down. Easy stuff.”

Tsuki nodded slowly, her eyes lingering on the door for a moment longer. The faint draft continued to slip through the gap, cool and insistent, stirring something she couldn’t quite place. But Ningning’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Come on,” Ningning said, her grin brightening as she motioned toward the main part of the house. “Let me show you where Karina keeps all the good snacks.”

With a final glance at the door, Tsuki followed Ningning down the hall. But even as Ningning chatted away, her words breezy and light, Tsuki couldn’t shake the faint, magnetic pull of the small, unassuming door.

Ningning’s voice was light and casual as she led Tsuki on a whirlwind tour, pointing out the essentials: the kitchen, the cozy living room with its well-loved sofa, and the guest bedroom. The house had a lived-in warmth to it, with soft rugs and mismatched furniture that seemed carefully chosen for comfort rather than style. Yet, beneath its charm, Tsuki couldn’t help but notice a subtle weight in the air, a quiet stillness that felt just a little too thick.

“Okay, that’s pretty much it,” Ningning said with a grin as they stopped near the staircase. “It’s an easy gig, really—just make sure the plants don’t die and, you know, no fires or anything.”

Tsuki chuckled softly, nodding as she glanced around the dim hallway. Her gaze flickered briefly to the narrow door tucked near the staircase, but Ningning quickly pulled her attention back.

“Oh, right,” Ningning said as they paused in front of another door. She gestured toward it with her free hand, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder. “This is the master bedroom. Karina unnie left a checklist on the kitchen counter—watering the plants in here is on it. She’s super into her plants, so don’t skip it, okay?”

“Got it,” Tsuki replied with a small smile, though her curiosity lingered as she glanced at the door.

Ningning gave a playful wink. “Well, that’s everything! Seriously, Tsuki, thanks for doing this. You’re a lifesaver. I owe you big-time.”

Tsuki grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Don’t forget that when we go out to eat. I’m ordering the whole menu.”

Ningning laughed, shaking her head as she adjusted her bag one last time. “Fair enough. Just don’t bankrupt me, okay? See you soon!”

With that, Ningning headed out, the faint sound of the door clicking shut echoing through the house. Silence settled in, broken only by the soft rustle of the curtains as a gentle breeze drifted through the open window.

-----

Later that day, Tsuki stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, the faint light of late afternoon spilling through the sheer curtains. The room was neatly arranged, with an ornate wooden bed frame and matching furniture that gave the space an elegant, timeless feel.

In the corner, a collection of lush green plants thrived on a wooden stand near the window. Their leaves glistened faintly in the sunlight, a watering can sitting beside them like a waiting companion. The faint scent of lavender hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the plants, subtle and soothing.

Tsuki stepped inside, the floor creaking softly underfoot as she approached the plants. The quiet was profound, broken only by the sound of her footsteps and the soft clink of the watering can as she picked it up.

She crouched down, pouring water into the pots with careful precision, watching as the soil absorbed the moisture. The faint, earthy scent of damp soil mingled ever-present in the air, creating a soothing, almost hypnotic atmosphere. Her mind wandered absently, the rhythmic flow of water from the can lulling her into a quiet, unfocused state.

It was peaceful—too peaceful, Tsuki realized, as the quiet began to press on her, heavy and unsettling. Straightening up, she turned toward the next plant, her thoughts scattered, when her gaze landed on the far corner of the room—and she froze.

A figure sat in the shadows, perfectly still. Long, dark hair spilled over its slim shoulders, gleaming faintly in the dim light.

A scream tore from Tsuki’s throat, sharp and raw, shattering the fragile silence of the house. She stumbled backward, her foot catching on the edge of the rug, and she crashed to the floor with a jarring thud. The watering can slipped from her hand, clattering loudly as water splashed across the polished floorboards, the sound echoing in the oppressive stillness.

She sat there, chest heaving, her palms pressed against the cool wood for balance as her wide eyes remained locked on the figure. The adrenaline surged through her veins, making her limbs feel heavy and numb all at once.

“Unnie?” she called out instinctively, her voice trembling and hoarse. The word hung in the air, unanswered.

The figure didn’t move. The house remained eerily quiet, broken only by the faint drip of water pooling from the overturned can.

Her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts as the initial wave of panic ebbed, replaced by an unsettling confusion. She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the rug and pushed herself upright. Her legs wobbled beneath her, the distance between her and the shadowy figure stretching impossibly wide and yet impossibly close.

Step by cautious step, she approached, her movements deliberate, her senses on high alert. The sunlight streaming through the window did little to banish the heavy shadows pooling in the corner, and as she drew nearer, the truth revealed itself.

It wasn’t Karina.

It was a doll.

A life-sized, eerily realistic doll, seated upright in an antique chair as though it had been posed with meticulous care.

Tsuki’s throat tightened as she took in the details. Its face was hauntingly lifelike, the craftsmanship unnervingly perfect. Softly flushed cheeks, delicately curved lips, and closed eyes framed by long, dark lashes gave it an uncanny resemblance to Karina. The resemblance was so striking it sent a shiver down Tsuki’s spine.

The doll wore a pale lavender dress, its fabric faded with age but pristine in condition. The lace trim at the edges was slightly frayed, but it only added to the unsettling authenticity. The faint lavender scent that clung to the house felt stronger now, as though it emanated from the doll itself.

“It looks so real…” Tsuki murmured, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “Like a wax statue, but…”

She hesitated, leaning closer, her fingers twitching at her sides as she fought the instinct to reach out and touch it. The texture of its skin caught her eye—it didn’t have the rigidity of wax. The surface appeared soft, pliable even, as though it might yield under pressure. The thought made her stomach twist.

The doll’s serene expression was too perfect, too intentional. It felt less like an inanimate object and more like a figure quietly observing her, its stillness unnerving in a way she couldn’t articulate. The longer she stared, the smaller the room seemed to feel, the air thickening with an unseen tension.

A sharp creak from the hallway broke the moment. Tsuki jumped, spinning around so quickly her knee bumped the edge of the chair. Her heart leapt into her throat, her wide eyes darting toward the open doorway.

Nothing. Just the house settling.

Her hand flew to her chest as she exhaled shakily, forcing her nerves to settle. “Get it together,” she muttered, glancing back at the doll.

The oppressive sensation of its presence still lingered. She crouched quickly, grabbing the watering can and finishing her task in rushed, clumsy movements. Each time she glanced over her shoulder, the doll was still there, perfectly posed, perfectly still. But that didn’t stop the irrational sense that it might spring to life at any moment.

When the last pot was watered, Tsuki stood and turned toward the door. She hesitated, the weight of the room pressing on her shoulders as her gaze flickered back to the doll one last time. The quiet lavender-scented air wrapped around her like a whisper, the moment hanging heavy and strange.

Her eyes lingered on the doll’s face. Its resemblance to Karina was so uncanny, so eerily perfect, that a strange reflex stirred within her. Without thinking, she dipped her head in a small, polite bow—a gesture born out of respect, habit, and the unsettling feeling that she was in the presence of someone, rather than something.

Straightening, she let out a faint, self-conscious laugh, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Why am I bowing to a doll?” she muttered under her breath, the absurdity of the moment making her shake her head.

With a final glance at the serene, unblinking face of the doll, she stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her. The faint click of the latch echoed in the quiet hallway, but the weight of the doll’s presence lingered. As she walked down the corridor, its expression, its stillness, its unnerving presence—it was burned into her mind. And with every step, the unease that clung to her chest only grew heavier, like a shadow she couldn’t escape.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the house had settled into an eerie quiet. The golden hues of the late afternoon gave way to muted blues and grays, the darkness creeping into every corner as night took hold.

The guest bedroom offered a welcome reprieve, its modest furnishings a comforting contrast to the grandeur of the rest of the house. Tsuki sat on the edge of the neatly made bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting soft, elongated shadows on the walls. The weight of the day pressed down on her like a heavy blanket, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had built up over hours of unease.

The unique house scent seemed to follow her everywhere, clinging to her like a whisper. It hung in the air as she slipped under the covers, the crisp linens cool against her skin. She shifted restlessly, her thoughts unable to shake the memory of the doll’s lifelike features and the quiet, oppressive atmosphere of the master bedroom.

She closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily. The creaks and groans of the old house kept her awake, their rhythm too deliberate to be random. Each sound seemed to carry meaning, like a whispered message just beyond her comprehension.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, pulling her into a restless sleep. Her dreams were fleeting and fragmented—shadows stretching across long hallways, faint whispers just out of reach, and always that door near the staircase, standing in the periphery of her mind. She woke suddenly in the early hours of the morning, her heart pounding as though she’d been running, though she couldn’t remember why.

For the next few days, she resumed her duties, going through the checklist Karina had left. Watering plants, checking windows, tidying rooms—simple tasks that should have kept her grounded. Yet, no matter how diligently she worked, she couldn’t shake the sensation that something was… watching.

Her steps became slower as she passed the basement door. The plain, unremarkable panel tucked near the staircase seemed to hum with an unspoken energy. She dismissed it at first, chalking it up to her imagination or the creaks of the old house. But as the days went on, the pull became stronger.

Whenever she neared the door, she felt it—a faint tug, like invisible fingers brushing against her chest, guiding her closer. At times, it was barely noticeable, a whisper at the edge of her awareness. Other times, it was almost overwhelming, making her pause mid-step as her hand drifted toward the handle without her realizing.

Then there was the sound.

It started as a faint rhythm, almost too soft to notice. A deep, steady thrum that seemed to rise from the floorboards themselves. At first, she thought it was her own heartbeat, quickened by the tension that gripped her whenever she passed the door. But as she stood there one afternoon, frozen with her ear tilted toward the frame, she realized it didn’t match the rhythm pounding in her chest.

It was something else.

The sound was faint but persistent, a slow and deliberate beat, like the pulse of something alive hidden beneath the house. She stepped back, shaking her head as if to clear it. “It’s just the pipes or something,” she muttered to herself, her voice thin and uncertain.

But the sound didn’t stop.

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the silence of the house pressed in around her. The pull toward the basement door was stronger than ever, an invisible tether pulling at her thoughts, making her skin prickle with unease. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to ignore it.

By the next day, it was unbearable. Every time she passed the door, the thrum seemed louder, the pull more insistent. She found herself standing before it without realizing, her fingers brushing the cold handle. She yanked her hand back, her breath quickening as Ningning’s words rang in her ears: Don’t open this door.

But the warning wasn’t enough to keep her away.

Tsuki hesitated, Ningning’s earlier warning echoing in her mind. But something about the door pulled at her, a quiet insistence that she couldn’t ignore. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and stepped inside.

The stairs creaked beneath her as Tsuki descended into the basement, each step groaning under her weight, the sound sharp against the oppressive silence. The air grew cooler with every step, brushing against her skin like an unseen presence. A faint metallic tang mingled with the musty scent of old, forgotten things, and each breath she took felt heavier than the last.

At the bottom of the stairs, the dim space opened before her, cloaked in shadow and illuminated only by a single, flickering bulb that cast a weak, uneven light. Dust motes danced lazily in the air she’d disturbed, their slow movement amplifying the room’s stillness. The quiet was suffocating, as if the house itself had stopped breathing.

Shelves lined the walls, sagging under the weight of jars filled with murky substances. Some were capped with rusted lids, others empty but for a faint residue clinging to their interiors. The objects scattered among them were strange and unidentifiable—trinkets that seemed as though they belonged to a world just outside her understanding.

In the center of the room stood a large wooden table, its surface surprisingly clean amidst the surrounding layers of dust. The smooth, worn edges hinted at its age, while the faint outline of a rectangular shape in the dust suggested something had been there recently. The table dominated the space, drawing her gaze like a magnet.

The room felt untouched, frozen in time, but the table’s pristine condition made it feel out of place, as if waiting for something—or someone. Her fingers brushed the edge of the wood, and a shiver raced through her as the strange pull she’d felt earlier surged within her, stronger now.

Her gaze wandered back to the shelves, landing on a single book nestled among the clutter. Its dark leather cover seemed to glow faintly, the intricate silver filigree embossed into its surface shimmering as though alive in the flickering light.

She took a step closer, her breath quickening as her hand reached for the book. The leather felt unexpectedly warm under her trembling fingers, and the moment she touched it, a low hum vibrated through her palms, resonating softly in the still air.

Turning slowly, she noticed an old wooden chair tucked into the corner of the room. Dust stirred as she brushed it off, sending a faint puff into the cool air. It creaked softly as she sat, cradling the book in her lap, the hum growing louder with every second.

Tsuki hesitated, her fingers tracing the embossed designs on the cover. Taking a breath to steady herself, she opened it. The first page greeted her with intricate symbols, their swirling shapes shimmering faintly as if they held a life of their own. The text was unfamiliar, yet something about it stirred a flicker of recognition deep within her, as though she’d seen it in a dream she couldn’t quite remember.

As she turned the brittle, crackling pages, the air around her grew colder, pressing against her skin. Her eyes widened in disbelief at the macabre contents: meticulously penned spells and rituals, their elegant strokes intertwining with illustrations that seemed to shift and writhe under the dim light. The drawings were both haunting and mesmerizing—dark figures entangled in rituals of power, surrounded by arcane symbols that shimmered faintly with a sinister allure.

The book felt alive in her hands, the brittle paper exuding an unnatural warmth that prickled against her fingers. The room’s shadows seemed to deepen, pressing closer, as though drawn by the energy radiating from the tome.

“This has to be some kind of elaborate antique—or a stupid movie prop,” Tsuki muttered, her voice barely breaking the oppressive silence. The words sounded hollow to her ears, and the static-like prickle along her arms only heightened her unease. She tried to ignore how the symbols on the page glimmered whenever her eyes shifted, the intricate patterns teasing the edges of her vision.

Her eyes were drawn to ornate runes etched faintly into the margins of the pages, their curling shapes seeming to beg to be spoken. She didn’t know why, but her lips began to move, forming the unfamiliar words before she could stop herself.

The first syllable escaped hesitantly, hanging in the still air like a fragile thread. The second came more easily, flowing into the third, her voice rising in a rhythm that echoed softly against the basement walls.

As the final word slipped from her lips, the house seemed to exhale. Outside, the rain surged, pounding against the brick walls with renewed force. A sudden crash of thunder shook the foundation beneath her feet, and the light from the single bulb flickered violently, casting erratic, jittering shadows that danced across the walls.

The hum from the book intensified, vibrating through her hands and into her chest, as though the very air around her were alive, pulsing with the same energy as the tome in her lap.

The air thickened with an oppressive charge, an energy that seemed to ripple through her very bones. A sickly-sweet scent—like decaying fruit laced with a metallic tang—filled the room, overwhelming her senses. She gagged, her stomach churning as a low, guttural groan reverberated from somewhere deep within the dark corners of the basement.

Tsuki froze, her breath caught in her throat as her wide eyes darted toward the shadows just beyond the flickering light. Something was moving. The darkness itself seemed to ripple and writhe, its edges shifting as though it were alive. Her legs trembled, her body screaming for her to flee, but she couldn’t move, rooted in place by a fear so primal it felt as though it had wrapped around her soul.

The book in her lap began to pulse, its vibration growing stronger, more insistent, and a faint glow seeped from its pages, casting eerie patterns onto her hands. Her breath hitched as she saw it—a slick, glistening tendril slowly snaking its way out from between the yellowed pages.

A strangled cry burst from her lips as she flung the book away from her, her hands trembling violently. The tome landed with a heavy thud on the floor, its cover flapping open. For a moment, silence returned, the room holding its breath—but then the glow intensified, and the tendril continued to emerge, undeterred.

Tsuki scrambled back, her wide eyes fixed on the book as more appendages slithered forth, inky black and glistening wetly in the dim light. They moved with a terrible, unnatural grace, twisting and curling as though tasting the air. Their presence was suffocating, an affront to the space itself, and the oppressive energy in the room deepened, vibrating through her chest and setting her teeth on edge.

The air around her grew colder, thickening with a density that made it hard to breathe. She watched in horror as the appendages spilled onto the polished floor, their slick surfaces reflecting the faint glow of the book’s pulsing light.

Her scream caught in her throat a large one lashed out with terrifying speed. It wrapped around her ankle like a living vise, its texture alien—slick yet warm, pulsing faintly against her skin. A shuddering wave of revulsion coursed through her, but to her horror, so did something else: a strange, electric thrill that clashed violently with the primal terror gripping her heart.

“Let me go!” she gasped, her voice trembling as she thrashed against the sinuous limb. But her struggles only seemed to strengthen its grip, pulling her closer to the book.

The room seemed to shrink around her, the shelves and shadows pressing closer as though the space itself had come alive. The light from the flickering bulb dimmed further, replaced by the book’s eerie glow, which had grown impossibly bright.

A crimson sheen materialized at the edges of the doorframe, faintly luminous, as though painted by an unseen hand. It shimmered with a rhythmic pulse, synchronized with the thrumming energy radiating from the book. Tsuki’s eyes darted toward it, her chest tightening as she realized it wasn’t just light—it was a barrier.

The shimmering red aura stretched across the doorframe, sealing her inside. It seemed alive, pulsing and flickering as though aware of her. She screamed again, but the sound was swallowed by the air itself, the barrier promising absolute secrecy. No one would hear her cries, and no one would come.

The appendages tightened their grip, the largest curling upward to brush against her trembling hand. It was as though the book itself was alive, its energy thrumming with hunger, pulling her deeper into its inescapable hold. Tsuki’s mind raced, a storm of emotions churning within her—fear, confusion, and a flickering, inexplicable pull toward the power suffusing the air around her.

“No! Stop!” she cried, her voice raw with desperation as she twisted against the tendrils wrapped around her ankle. The slick surface of it pulsed faintly, their warmth a shocking contrast to the cold fear gripping her chest. Her thrashing only seemed to fuel the energy swirling around her, the room alive with an invisible force that crackled against her skin.

With a sinuous motion, two more appendages slithered from the shadows, their glossy surfaces catching the faint light as they coiled around her wrists. The grip was firm yet unhurried, lifting her effortlessly from the ground and suspending her in the charged air above the glowing tome.

Tsuki gasped, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as she writhed in their hold. Her limbs trembled with exertion, her mind screaming for her to fight harder, to escape. Yet with each movement, the tendrils seemed to tighten, cradling her with an unnerving precision that made her struggles feel insignificant.

As the seconds stretched into eternity, a foreign sensation began to spread through her, igniting a strange heat in her core. The tendrils moved with deliberate slowness, their touch almost exploratory as they brushed against her exposed skin.

One of the tendrils slithered closer, its movements fluid and deliberate, like a predator assessing its prey. Tsuki flinched, her breath hitching as it hovered near her face, the faint shimmer of its slick surface catching the dim light. She turned her head away instinctively, her lips pressed tightly together, but the tendril moved with an eerie precision, brushing against her cheek with a warmth that sent her skin tingling.

“No…” she whispered, her voice trembling as the tendril’s tip traced the line of her jaw. The scent in the room grew thicker, suffusing the air with its intoxicating sweetness. It seemed to dull her resistance, the tension in her shoulders loosening even as her mind screamed at her to fight.

The tendril pressed lightly against her lips, and for a moment, she held her breath, clenching her mouth shut. But the pulsing warmth and insistent pressure became unbearable, and her resolve wavered. A gasp escaped her, her lips parting slightly, and it slipped inside with unsettling ease.

The texture was slick and alien, its presence invasive yet strangely gentle as it curled against her tongue. Tsuki gagged slightly, her body jerking in reflexive protest, but the appendage didn’t retreat. Instead, a faint warmth spread from where it touched, a strange, electric heat that seeped into her muscles and unfurled through her chest.

A faint hum resonated through her, vibrating softly against her skin as the tendril pulsed, releasing something she couldn’t identify. The effect was immediate—her body grew lighter, the tension in her limbs dissipating as a wave of heat pooled low in her abdomen.

Her head swam, the oppressive sweetness in the air blending with the warmth spreading through her, clouding her thoughts and softening her panic. Her lips tingled where it touched, the sensation lingering even as it withdrew, leaving her mouth empty and her breaths shallow.

Tsuki gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Her fear remained, but it was now tangled with something deeper, something unfamiliar yet impossible to ignore. Her body felt alive in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying, every nerve alight with sensation.

Before she could regain her composure, another tendril brushed against her arm, its slick surface gliding over her skin with a maddening slowness. Her pulse quickened, her body trembling as the warmth within her grew stronger, fanning into an insistent heat.

Her skirt was pushed upwards with an almost sentient deliberateness, the cool air brushing against her exposed thighs. The intimacy of the act sent a flush of mortification through her, her thoughts racing with conflicting emotions. The alien limb seemed to know her body in ways she could not comprehend, their movements unhurried but insistent, exploring her as though tracing a map only they could see.

“No… stop…” Tsuki whispered, her voice shaking with both fear and shame. The words felt powerless, swallowed by the oppressive stillness of the room. Her mind screamed at her to fight harder, to resist, but her body betrayed her. A faint, forbidden warmth coiled deep within her, a treacherous response that made her feel as though the book’s influence was seeping into her very soul.

The first appendage, slick and pulsating faintly, brushed against her inner thigh, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left her trembling. It found her center, pressing lightly against her most intimate place with a surreal precision that felt invasive and deeply wrong. Yet, to her growing horror, the contact ignited a spark within her—a sensation she couldn’t explain, one that clashed violently with the revulsion knotting her stomach.

“Please… don’t…” Tsuki’s voice was barely more than a whisper, each word trembling with desperation. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she writhed against the tendrils, her struggles weak and futile. Yet, her protests faltered when an involuntary moan escaped her lips—a low, shameful sound that startled her with its rawness. It betrayed the turmoil within her, a storm she could neither deny nor suppress.

The tendril pressed further, its warmth a mirror of the growing heat coiling deep within her. Her body’s treacherous response filled her with shame, the telltale dampness between her thighs answering the intrusion even as she squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to block out the sensations. But it was impossible. The relentless tide of sensation swelled within her, drowning every rational thought beneath its rising waves.

As it explored with agonizing precision, others joined, their slick movements leaving trails of warmth and wetness along her exposed skin. Two curled around her heaving chest, their sinuous motions too deliberate to be accidental. Tsuki gasped as they wrapped around her breasts, their touch firm yet teasing, as though savoring the curves beneath their grasp.

They squeezed gently at first, testing her with rhythmic pulses that seemed to synchronize with her erratic heartbeat. Her nipples, already sensitive from the cool air, hardened under their touch. She bit her lip as one tendril tightened around a peak, the friction maddening as it tugged and teased with deliberate pressure. The slick texture of the appendage sent jolts of sensation straight to her core, each movement stoking the forbidden fire growing within her.

Tsuki’s body trembled, her breaths shallow and uneven as the sensations pushed her closer to the edge of reason. Shame burned in her chest, a searing reminder of how deeply her body had betrayed her. But beneath the shame was a bloom of arousal that defied her terror, growing stronger with every passing moment.

The appendage probing her most intimate place pressed deeper, its girth stretching her in ways she had never experienced. The sensation was overwhelming, teetering on the edge of pain yet blooming into a twisted pleasure that left her gasping. Her hips twitched involuntarily, her body reacting with a primal abandon that made her heart pound even harder.

The room around her blurred, fading into a whirl of shadows and flickering crimson light. The oppressive energy thickened, cocooning her in an isolating warmth that felt both suffocating and oddly comforting. The tome below her pulsed with an eerie, sickly glow, its pages fluttering as if alive, feeding on the maelstrom of emotion coursing through her.

Tsuki’s mind was a battlefield, torn between the instinct to escape and the dark, insidious allure of the magic enveloping her. Her thoughts fragmented, unable to form coherent resistance against the unrelenting onslaught of sensation. Each wave of pleasure crashed over her, stronger than the last, until the rational part of her mind began to fade.

Her toes curled, her back arching involuntarily as the sensations pushed her further toward the brink. A silent scream built in her throat, a raw sound that was equal parts anguish and ecstasy. Every nerve in her body felt alive, her muscles trembling under the weight of an experience so intense it defied her understanding.

As her consciousness frayed, the monstrous presence above her became clearer. its sinewy appendages glistening with an otherworldly sheen. It moved with a terrifying grace, its power undeniable as it plunged into her with an intensity that left her gasping.

The rhythm of its movements was overwhelming, a carnal dance that blurred the line between dominance and submission. Tsuki’s hips moved instinctively, bucking against the relentless assault as her body betrayed her once again. She couldn’t stop the way her core clenched around the intruding tendrils, her body grasping at them with a desperation that left her mind reeling.

The friction built with maddening precision, each thrust a crescendo of sensation that grew stronger, deeper. The heat in her core spiraled outward, consuming her as the storm within her reaches its peak. Tsuki’s mind splintered, caught between horror and exhilaration as the relentless onslaught pushed her closer to a release that she both dreaded and craved.

The tendrils, acting with a sentience all their own, twisted and writhed within her, exploring the depths of her most intimate places with an unsettling precision. Each movement seemed attuned to her every gasp, moan, and trembling shudder, adjusting their rhythm and pressure as though playing a symphony on her body. Every note resonated with her deepest desires, drawing out the pleasure buried in the darkest corners of her being.

Her body felt like a foreign entity, no longer under her control but an instrument in the hands of a masterful puppeteer. Each thrust, each twist of the tendrils, sent ripples of sensation coursing through her, building a crescendo that pulled her further into a sea of rapture. Tsuki’s thoughts, fragmented and fleeting, were lost amidst the overwhelming tide of sensation. She was helpless, suspended in a reality where time, fear, and reason had ceased to matter.

Her vision blurred, the world around her fading into insignificance as she climbed higher, propelled toward a peak that shimmered just beyond her reach. Every thrust, every deliberate motion of them pushed her closer, sending her spiraling upward into a stratosphere of ecstasy she had never dared imagine.

The monster’s relentless rhythm became her entire existence, a singular, primal focus that consumed her. Her breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, each one a desperate attempt to ground herself against the waves of pleasure threatening to drown her. Her heart pounded in her chest like a frantic drumbeat, echoing the cadence of the creature’s movements, synchronizing with the primal, unrelenting rhythm.

As if sensing the growing tension within her, the tendrils adjusted their pace, their grip tightening as they moved with an intensity that defied human comprehension. They teased her with unrelenting precision, their slick surfaces sliding against her hypersensitive skin, coaxing her closer to the precipice. The overwhelming sensations threatened to break her apart, pulling at every fiber of her being.

Her body trembled violently, each thrust driving her closer to release. The tendrils pulsed with a heat that seemed to flow directly into her, igniting a fire deep within her core. Tsuki’s hips moved involuntarily, bucking against the onslaught, meeting the relentless force with a desperation that shocked even her.

“Oh, gods,” she panted, her voice a broken whisper lost amidst the wet, rhythmic sounds of their motion. “It’s… it’s so deep… I can’t… I can’t…”

Her words trailed into a strangled cry as the first wave of climax overtook her, shattering her remaining composure. It was as though every nerve in her body had been set aflame, an all-encompassing conflagration of pleasure that consumed her from the inside out. The tendrils, slick with her arousal, plunged into her depths with renewed vigor, their undulations sending shockwaves through her veins.

Her mind shattered into fragments of sensation and sound, each moment eclipsing the last in intensity. “Yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Please, don’t ever stop!” she begged, her voice a ragged mixture of delirium and surrender. Her fingers clawed uselessly at the air, seeking purchase on something—anything—tangible, as the unrelenting onslaught overwhelmed her senses.

The creature, whether driven by primal instinct or some malevolent intelligence, seemed to respond to her pleas. Its tendrils moved with a deliberate precision that suggested an endless capacity for this relentless assault, each motion calculated to drive her deeper into a state of unending bliss.

Tsuki’s climax stretched on, a cascade of ecstasy that defied comprehension. It wasn’t just pleasure—it was transcendence, a complete dissolution of self into the pure, unfiltered sensation. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as the boundaries between pain and pleasure, fear and desire, dissolved entirely.

“I love it… I love it so much,” she moaned, her voice barely audible yet resonating with a depth that betrayed her total surrender. The words tumbled from her lips unbidden, a raw confession that left her trembling.

Tsuki’s body convulsed, the sheer power of the release unlike anything she had ever known. It felt as though every muscle in her body had been electrified, her nerves alight with a searing, unrelenting pleasure that coursed through her like molten fire. Her back arched violently, her limbs trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, each more overwhelming than the last.

The sensations were a storm, a cacophony of raw, primal bliss that left her gasping for air. Her vision blurred, her eyes fluttering shut as stars exploded behind her eyelids, bright and dazzling against the crimson haze of the room. Time lost meaning, each second stretching into eternity as her body trembled on the edge of unraveling completely.

Her breaths came in frantic, broken bursts, her chest heaving as if she’d been submerged underwater and was only now surfacing for air. The relentless pulsing of the appendage kept her hovering on the brink, her cries blending into the rhythmic thrum of the magic that filled the room. Her hands clawed helplessly at the ground, her fingers digging into the polished wood in search of some anchor, some way to tether herself to reality amidst the torrent of sensation.

The peak of her climax hit like a tidal wave, slamming into her with a force that left her utterly powerless. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her body seizing as a flood of heat coursed through her, radiating outward from her core to every inch of her trembling frame. The pleasure was absolute, consuming her entirely, as though her very essence had been dissolved into the maelstrom.

Her heart thundered in her chest, its frantic rhythm echoing in her ears as the relentless pleasure stretched her to her limits. Her body burned, the heat of the moment fusing with the lingering warmth of the tendrils that held her captive, coaxing her to surrender completely. Every nerve, every cell, seemed to hum with an intoxicating energy, pushing her beyond the confines of physical sensation into something far more profound.

When the final waves began to subside, they left her trembling, her body wracked with aftershocks that rippled through her in diminishing pulses. The edges of the world blurred, her mind floating in a haze of exhaustion and disbelief. Slowly, they released their grip, letting her crumple bonelessly onto the ground.

Her body was slick with sweat, her skin flushed and glistening as she lay there, utterly spent. Her limbs refused to move, trembling faintly as though even the smallest effort was beyond her reach. The air around her was thick with the remnants of the energy that had consumed her, the faint hum of the magic in the tome a distant echo now.

Tsuki’s breaths came in slow, ragged bursts, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to recover. Her mind was blank, emptied of thought save for the echo of what she had just experienced. The pleasure still lingered in her veins, a phantom warmth that pulsed faintly in the aftermath, leaving her dazed and disoriented.

Her voice unfurled into the charged air, cutting through the stillness like a blade honed to perfection. The sound was raw, unrestrained, and so utterly human amidst the otherworldly backdrop. Her breath hitched, each gasp a testament to the shock and disbelief coursing through her. How could it be that, even after the tempest of sensations that had claimed her, she yearned for more?

"More… I need more! Please!" The words tumbled from her lips, unbidden and unfiltered, their weight pressing heavily into the space around her. Each syllable carried a desperation that was startling in its clarity, echoing through the stone walls of the chamber. The cold, unyielding surfaces seemed to absorb her cries, amplifying them into a haunting chorus that reverberated back to her as though the very room shared her longing.

She was consumed—utterly, completely. Her body no longer felt like her own, her mind adrift in a sea of sensations and emotions she could barely comprehend. The intoxicating grip of the creature’s presence had become an addiction, a force that seeped into every corner of her being. What had started as resistance had crumbled beneath the relentless tide of pleasure, leaving only this raw, unquenchable hunger that bound her to it in a pact she couldn’t, wouldn’t break.

It wasn’t just desire; it was something deeper, something primal and profound. With every passing moment, the lines separating her humanity and the creature’s ethereal nature blurred, dissolving into a haze of need and shared satisfaction. She no longer feared the loss of control—she welcomed it, craved it. The sensations transcended the physical, reaching into her very soul and pulling forth a truth she hadn’t dared to face: that this wasn’t just an assault on her body; it was a revelation of her most secret self.

Her voice rose again, filling the cavernous space with a fervor that seemed to draw the room itself into the throes of her transformation. It wasn’t a mere plea now—it was a declaration, an offering, a submission. The creature responded in kind, its movements unhurried yet deliberate, each touch carrying a weight that seemed to acknowledge her surrender.

The tendrils moved with an unsettling grace, their sinewy, cool surfaces coiling around her trembling frame as though choreographed. They encircled her limbs with deliberate precision, leaving no part of her untouched. Her arms were drawn firmly behind her back, her wrists bound together in a grip that was unyielding but not painful.

Her legs, guided with the same calculated care, were lifted and folded gracefully over her head, her knees brushing her shoulders as the tendrils positioned her into an impossibly flexible pose. The deep stretch pressed her body into a posture that felt both exposing and strangely reverent, the creature’s control molding her into a display of total surrender. Every inch of her was held aloft, suspended in midair, her form completely bared to the creature’s touch.

The tension in her body began to dissolve under the tendrils’ firm yet careful guidance. Her initial struggle gave way to a sense of weightless peace, a paradoxical comfort in being so thoroughly restrained. Suspended and bound, the vulnerability of her position was undeniable, but so was the strange intimacy of the creature’s control.

“Please…” she murmured, her voice trembling as her head tilted back, her flushed cheeks brushing against her folded knees. Her lips parted, her breath shallow and uneven as her eyes fluttered shut. “Take me. Use me. I’m yours.”

The words spilled from her unbidden, raw and unfiltered, carrying the weight of her submission. They hung in the air, trembling with an almost sacred longing, and the tendrils seemed to react, tightening around her slightly, as if acknowledging her surrender.

Her body quivered as the creature moved in response, the tendrils gliding along her exposed skin with a purpose that felt both methodical and intimate. The cool, sinewy appendage brushed along her thighs and the curve of her back, exploring her as though she were something fragile yet infinitely valuable.

“I need it,” she whispered, her tone barely audible yet thick with desperation. Each word carried an urgency that echoed in the charged air around her. “All of me… I want you to take everything.”

Her breathing quickened as the tendrils adjusted their hold, their movements becoming more deliberate, more intimate. The sensation of their exploration sent waves of warmth coursing through her bound form, each touch lighting a fire that spread through her in dizzying waves.

“You feel so… so good,” she gasped, her voice breaking as the overwhelming sensations consumed her. “Please… I want more… I need more.”

The tendrils moved with an unnerving awareness, their sinuous forms gliding over her trembling body as though they could sense her every thought, her every unspoken desire. Each caress seemed purposeful, teasing the edges of her mind and coaxing her deeper into the blissful haze that had overtaken her. The cool, slick texture of the tendrils against her heated skin created an intoxicating contrast, heightening her sensitivity with every passing moment.

Tsuki could feel them responding to her, their movements shifting and adjusting as though attuned to the rhythm of her need. Their presence was overwhelming, a constant press of sensations that blurred the line between her body and the creature’s control. Her breath came in shallow, erratic bursts, her chest rising and falling as the tension coiled tighter within her.

One tendril trailed down her inner thigh with a deliberate slowness, its slick surface leaving a cool, wet trail in its wake. The sensation sent shivers racing up her spine, her body arching instinctively to meet the touch. Her thighs quivered, her muscles clenching as it paused just at the entrance of her folds. The anticipation was maddening, her nerves alight with a fiery tension that only grew with every second of waiting.

When it finally slid inside, the sensation was indescribable. A gasp tore from her lips, her head snapping back as a jolt of pure ecstasy shot through her. “Ahhh! Yes… oh yes!” she squealed, her voice trembling with sheer delight as the fullness overwhelmed her. Her hips bucked instinctively, her body greedily welcoming the intrusion as the tendril moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left her gasping.

The pressure within her built with every pulse, the tendril’s movements precise and unrelenting. It teased her inner walls, stroking and exploring with an expertise that felt almost impossible, as though it knew exactly where to touch to unravel her completely.

“It feels… so good,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but heavy with unmistakable contentment. Her head lolled to the side, her lips parting as moans spilled from her freely, raw and unfiltered. Her body responded eagerly, her hips rolling in time with the tendril’s rhythm, a silent plea for more.

Her skin glistened with a faint sheen of sweat, the heat coursing through her body mingling with the cool, slick sensations of the tendrils. Every movement drove her deeper into the haze of bliss, her mind unable to focus on anything but the unrelenting pleasure that consumed her. The world around her faded into insignificance, leaving only the tendrils’ embrace and the exquisite fullness that left her gasping for breath.

As her body adjusted to its rhythm, another tendril rose before her, its glossy surface catching the dim crimson light as it hovered near her lips. She barely had time to register its presence before it pressed gently against her mouth.

A startled gasp escaped her as her lips parted, the tendril slipping inside with surprising ease. The texture was slick and warm, its faint pulse vibrating against her tongue as it explored her. At first, the sensation was overwhelming, but as it moved deeper, her surprise melted into contentment.

“Mmmph… so… deep,” she murmured against it, her voice muffled but filled with an odd sense of satisfaction. Her tongue pressed against its surface instinctively, tasting its slick warmth as her lips closed tightly around it. “More,” she managed to hum softly, her muffled plea a testament to her growing acceptance.

The tendril filled her mouth with a deliberate rhythm, its movements teasing and steady, drawing soft whimpers of satisfaction from her throat. Her moans grew louder, muffled but fervent, as her body surrendered to the dual sensations.

Just as she thought her body couldn’t possibly handle more, another tendril coiled around her waist, its movements slow and deliberate as it slid lower. Her breath quickened as she felt it pressing against the tight, unused ring of her back entrance.

Her muffled moans faltered for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized its intent. “Mmmph! No… wait…” she tried to protest, her words barely audible around the tendril in her mouth. But the creature was unrelenting, its movements firm yet measured as it pressed forward with careful pressure.

The tendril began to slide into her tight ring, the sensation sending a shockwave through her. Her body tensed, her muffled squeal vibrating against the tendril in her mouth as it stretched her in ways she had never experienced. The pressure was intense, a blend of discomfort and startling pleasure that left her gasping.

“Mmhhh!” she cried out, her voice a mix of surprise and arousal. The sensation was overwhelming, but as the tendril moved deeper, her body began to adjust, the discomfort giving way to an intoxicating fullness.

Her hips bucked again, her arousal evident in the way her body responded, even to the new intrusion. The tendril in her mouth pulsed gently, coaxing her into a rhythm that felt strangely natural, while the one in her back moved with slow precision, its every motion sending sparks of heat radiating through her.

Her muffled cries grew softer, their tone shifting as the sensations blended into a symphony of pleasure that consumed her entirely. She moaned around the tendril in her mouth, her tongue moving against its surface as her hips rocked involuntarily, her body giving itself over to the relentless rhythm.

Tsuki’s moans deepened, her muffled cries of pleasure blending into the wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room. She was lost in the overwhelming intensity, her body trembling as the tendrils brought her to the edge of another release.

Her mind fractured under the weight of the sensations, her thoughts dissolving into the raw, primal pleasure that consumed her. She could feel herself letting go completely, surrendering to the creature’s attentions as it claimed her in ways she had never thought possible.

Tsuki’s muffled cries grew softer, their tone shifting from resistance to surrender, as the sensations enveloped her in a symphony of pleasure that consumed her entirely. Her lips closed tightly around the tendril in her mouth, her tongue moving against its slick surface with a mind of its own. Each pulse, each deliberate motion, seemed to sync with the creature’s rhythm, its movements echoing through her as though it were orchestrating her very being.

She moaned helplessly, her hips rocking involuntarily against the tendril that filled her folds. Its movements were unyielding, stroking her inner walls with a maddening precision that left her trembling. The tendril at her back entrance stretched her relentlessly, its girth and depth pushing her to limits she hadn’t known existed. The fullness was all-consuming, her body stretched and claimed in ways that left her breathless.

Every hole was occupied, her body bound and plugged by the creature’s relentless attentions, and the sheer sensation of being used so completely sent waves of heat coursing through her. Her skin was flushed, a fiery warmth radiating outward from her core, spreading to every inch of her trembling frame. Sweat beaded on her skin, mingling with the slick trails left by the tendrils, and her body felt feverish, as though she were burning from the inside out.

Each time she tried to move, her bound limbs pulled against the sinewy hold of the tendrils encircling her wrists and ankles. The resistance heightened her awareness of her vulnerability, a sharp reminder of how completely she was at the creature’s mercy. But instead of fear, the restraint ignited an even deeper arousal, the inability to move amplifying the sensations that coursed through her. When she flexed her legs or attempted to shift her arms, the tendrils tightened briefly, their grip firm yet careful, sending jolts of heat straight to her core.

The tension in her muscles as she instinctively tested her bonds made her hyper aware of how securely she was held. The feel of the tendrils against her skin—slick, warm, and unyielding—only added to the electric current of arousal that pulsed through her. Her fingers twitched, her toes curled, but every attempt to exert control over her own body was met with the creature’s deliberate, commanding restraint. It wasn’t just physical—it's mental, a complete surrender that left her trembling with need.

Her mind spiraled, her thoughts teetering on the edge of coherence. For a brief moment, an image of Karina flickered through her mind—her friend, calm and composed, standing in this very space. This… this was in her basement? Tsuki’s lips twitched in a half-formed, disbelieving smile around the tendril in her mouth. The absurdity of it struck her even amidst the overwhelming sensations. How could Karina have lived above such a thing, so unaware—or worse, so unbothered?

The thought dissolved as the tendrils’ movements quickened, dragging her back into the maelstrom. Each of them found its rhythm, their synchronized motions intensifying as though responding to her growing need. The tendril in her folds thrust deeper, its strokes faster and more insistent, eliciting muffled moans that vibrated against the tendril in her mouth. The one at her back entrance stretched her further, its deliberate pace giving way to a primal urgency that sent shivers racing up her spine.

Tsuki’s body tensed, her muscles taut as the building pleasure became unbearable. Each movement she attempted, every twist or writhe, was met with the firm but almost loving grip of the tendrils holding her. The inability to move only fueled her arousal further, her body betraying her with each pulse of heat that radiated outward. Her breaths came in ragged bursts, her muffled cries rising in pitch as the tendrils drove her higher, their relentless rhythm consuming her entirely.

And then, the dam broke.

Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with an intensity that left her gasping and trembling. Every nerve in her body exploded with sensation, a blinding cascade of euphoria that obliterated every thought, every shred of control. Her back arched violently, her toes curling as the pleasure surged through her, wave after wave, unrelenting and overwhelming.

The fullness of the tendrils magnified everything, their pulsing, thrusting movements sending aftershocks rippling through her as her body convulsed in their grasp. She moaned deeply, her voice muffled but filled with raw, unrestrained ecstasy, the sound reverberating through the room.

Her consciousness seemed to splinter, dissolving into the sheer euphoria of the moment. The sensations blurred together, an all-encompassing bliss that left her trembling and breathless. Her body felt weightless, suspended in the haze of her release as the creature’s motions began to slow, guiding her down from the peak with a deliberate tenderness.

She collapsed against the tendrils’ support, her body slick with sweat and quivering from the force of her climax. Her mind was blank, save for the lingering warmth and satisfaction that pulsed through her, a glowing ember of pleasure that refused to fade.

Each breath she took was shaky, her chest heaving as her limbs lay limp in the tendrils’ grasp. The tension she’d felt moments ago was gone, replaced by a languid warmth that wrapped around her like a blanket. She couldn’t move, nor did she want to. The bonds that had held her captive now felt like an embrace, their presence a strange comfort in the aftermath of her release.

When the tendrils finally began to recede, they moved with a grace that belied their earlier fervor. Each one released her slowly, as if savoring the final moments of their connection. Tsuki’s limbs felt weightless as the tendrils carefully lowered her onto the cool floor, their motions deliberate and reverent. Her back met the ground gently, her sweat-slicked body sinking into the cold surface. For a moment, she lay there in suspended stillness, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the creature’s hold began to loosen.

The first tendril to withdraw was the one in her mouth. It slid back with a languid motion, its warmth fading from her lips as it retreated. She could feel its ridges trailing along the inside of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth, each sensation vivid and excruciatingly intimate. Her throat tightened reflexively as it exited the depths of her esophagus, the strange mix of relief and loss making her shudder. Her lips parted in a soft gasp as the slick appendage left her completely, and her tongue flicked out instinctively, as though searching for the lingering trace of its presence.

Next came the tendril from her back entrance. Tsuki whimpered softly as it began to pull free, the stretched, tight ring of muscle quivering in protest. Its girth had molded her, reshaped her in a way that left her painfully aware of the emptiness its absence would bring. The slow withdrawal was almost too much to bear, each inch dragging against her sensitive walls and sending residual shocks through her trembling frame. When it finally slipped out with a wet, obscene sound, she felt a sudden hollowness, the cool air brushing against her gaped entrance a sharp reminder of how thoroughly she had been claimed.

The last tendril lingered the longest, nestled deep within her folds as though reluctant to leave. Tsuki’s breath hitched as she felt it begin to move, every ridge and curve stroking against her inner walls with aching slowness. Her body clenched reflexively, unwilling to let go, and the friction sent jolts of pleasure spiraling through her even as her heart ached with the knowledge that it was ending.

“No… please…” she murmured, her voice hoarse and barely audible, a trembling plea that surprised even her.

When the tendril finally slid free, leaving her folds slick and quivering, the loss hit her like a blow. The emptiness was unbearable, a deep ache blooming in her chest as though her very soul mourned its departure. She felt as though she had been hollowed out, her body and mind suddenly bereft of the connection that had consumed her so completely. A wave of sadness crashed over her, sharp and unexpected, as she realized just how reliant she had become on the tendrils’ touch to feel anything close to happiness.

Tsuki’s eyes fluttered open, and she watched as the tendrils retreated toward the glowing book, their slick, sinuous forms folding into its open pages as if swallowed by the ancient tome itself. The glow from the book dimmed with each passing second, the rhythmic pulse that had filled the room fading into stillness. When the last tendril disappeared, the book’s cover snapped shut with a soft but definitive sound.

The crimson sheen on the doorframe flickered one last time before vanishing, leaving the basement shrouded in darkness save for the weak, flickering light of the single bulb above. The oppressive energy that had suffused the room dissipated, replaced by a deafening silence that pressed against her ears like a physical weight.

Tsuki lay there, her body trembling and spent, her skin slick with sweat and the faint, shimmering residue left by the creature’s touch. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy, yet her heart raced, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Every muscle ached, her body marked by the intensity of what it had endured, yet it wasn’t pain that lingered—it was the ache of longing.

The ceiling above her seemed impossibly distant, its plaster patterns shifting and distorting as though mocking her attempts to ground herself in reality. Her thoughts whirled in disarray, fragments of exhilaration and shame twisting together until she could no longer separate them. Each ragged breath brought her closer to the memory of the tendrils’ touch, the unrelenting power of the entity that had claimed her so completely.

She closed her eyes, but the shadows behind her lids were no refuge. The sensations replayed in vivid detail, each ghostly caress and probing tendril etched into her mind with painful clarity. Her heart raced as a truth settled over her, cold and certain: she would never again be the same.

The weight of what she had experienced pressed down on her, and yet—shamefully, achingly—she felt a yearning for more. The creature had awakened something inside her, a deep and irrepressible hunger that no mere human touch could ever hope to satisfy. The pleasure it had granted her was beyond comprehension, an experience so profound it left her soul tethered to the ancient, leather-bound tome that rested silently nearby.

The book now sat quietly in the dim light, its symbols no longer glowing. The silence in the room was deafening, and yet Tsuki could feel it—a faint hum, a residual energy that whispered of its dark promise. A shiver ran through her as she gazed at its unassuming cover, her chest tightening with the certainty that she would return.

She sat up slowly, her trembling fingers brushing the shimmering residue that lingered on her skin. Her body still pulsed with the echoes of pleasure, but it was the ache in her heart that she couldn’t ignore—a longing she knew could only be satisfied by the creature she had left behind.

The realization struck her like a blow: she was bound to it now, tied to something greater and darker than she could comprehend.

-----

The rest of Tsuki’s stay in the house passed in a blur of careful routine. Each day, she busied herself with small tasks—tidying the already immaculate rooms, rearranging little details to feel productive, and watering the plants with deliberate focus. Yet she avoided the basement entirely, the weight of what had happened there too much to face. The house, with its subtle creaks and faint whispers, seemed to breathe around her, alive and aware, as if watching her every move.

But no other strange incidents occurred. The silence of the house felt almost accusatory, as though it knew what had happened and was daring her to confront it. Tsuki couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, though she was alone. At night, she would lie awake in the guest bedroom, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning with fragmented memories of the tendrils’ touch, the forbidden ecstasy they had drawn from her.

The book’s presence haunted her. Though she left it untouched on its shelf in the basement, her thoughts often drifted to it, the dark leather cover etched into her memory. She could see it clearly in her mind’s eye, could feel its pulsing energy even from a distance. Each time her gaze lingered too long on the basement door, her heart quickened, the temptation to retrieve it tugging at her resolve.

Her mind was a battleground, torn between the dark allure of the book and the guilt that gnawed at her. She thought of Karina—so kind, so trusting. Tsuki respected her deeply, admired her quiet grace and the way she carried herself. Stealing the book would be a betrayal, a violation of the trust Karina had placed in her.

But it isn’t just a book, Tsuki thought one night, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweater as she sat at the kitchen table. The memory of the tendrils’ touch burned in her veins, the intensity of the pleasure they had granted her unlike anything she had ever known. The connection she felt to the book wasn’t mere temptation; it was a need, an ache that refused to fade. It’s mine. It belongs to me. Doesn’t it?

The thought lingered, seductive and insistent. But as the hours ticked by and the house remained still around her, another voice spoke—a quieter, steadier voice. It was Karina’s voice, her warm smile and genuine gratitude echoing in Tsuki’s mind. Stealing the book wasn’t just wrong—it was unthinkable.

The next morning, Tsuki forced herself to make a choice. She stood before the basement door, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. She could feel the book’s pull even through the wood, its dark promise thrumming in her chest. But she stepped back, shaking her head.

“No,” she whispered to herself, the word barely audible in the empty hallway. Leaving the book behind felt like tearing away a part of herself, and yet, she knew it was the only choice. Respect for Karina, for her trust, outweighed the yearning that clawed at her heart.

By the time Karina and you returned to town, the house had settled into an almost oppressive stillness, as though it had been holding its breath in your absence. The warm sunlight spilled across the porch, highlighting the ivy trailing up the red-brick exterior, and casting a golden glow on Tsuki as she stood awkwardly in the entryway. Her hands were clasped neatly in front of her, her posture composed but betraying a hint of nervous energy.

When Karina stepped inside, her polished appearance and radiant smile instantly eased the lingering tension in the room, filling it with her signature warmth.

“Tsuki!” Karina greeted, setting her bag down with a graceful motion. “Thank you so much for helping out. Seriously, you saved us.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Tsuki replied quickly, her voice soft but earnest. “I actually… really enjoyed my time here. You have such a beautiful house.” Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, and a faint blush dusted her cheeks.

Karina tilted her head, her smile softening. “I’m so glad you think so. This house means a lot to me. There’s just something about it—it stays with you, doesn’t it?” She glanced around as she spoke, as though the familiar details—the carved wooden railings, the faint scent of lavender, and the way the light danced off the polished floors—reassured her.

Tsuki nodded, hesitating briefly before glancing at Karina with a curious smile. “Um… is your boyfriend here? Everyone’s been talking about you two since your news went public. I guess I’ve been wondering about the guy who managed to steal the Karina’s heart.”

Karina laughed lightly, her radiant smile showing as she waved a hand. “He’s out grabbing food. He insisted since I did most of the driving back.” She paused, her eyes brightening. “Next time, we should all go out to eat. My treat. I know he’d love to meet you—you really did us a huge favour.”

Tsuki’s blush deepened, and she ducked her head with a shy smile. “That sounds nice. I’d like that a lot.”

Karina smiled warmly and moved to open the door for her. “Thank you again, Tsuki. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

Tsuki bowed slightly, her movements graceful and instinctive. “Thank you, unnie. Have a good evening.”

With that, Tsuki stepped out into the golden afternoon light, her figure framed briefly by the glow before she disappeared down the walkway. Karina lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her go with a thoughtful smile. The gentle creak of the closing door seemed to release the tension that had settled in the house.

Once the door clicked shut, the familiar stillness of the home returned, wrapping around Karina like an old, comfortable blanket. She exhaled deeply, the sound quiet and unhurried, as though she was letting the house welcome her back.

-----

You were seated at a small corner table in the restaurant, scrolling through your phone as you waited for the order. The familiar scent of spices and frying oil filled the air, and the hum of nearby conversations blended into a background buzz.

Your phone buzzed, and Karina’s name lit up the screen. Smiling, you picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said lightly, her voice soft and familiar. “Just wondering if you’re still at the restaurant.”

“Still waiting on the food,” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “Want me to grab anything else while I’m here?”

She hesitated briefly before humming thoughtfully. “Actually, could you grab me some boba? You know the flavors I like.”

“Of course,” you said with a chuckle. “Anything else?”

“Not really. Oh—actually, I was thinking of testing the security cameras. We should make sure they’re working properly, right?”

“Go for it,” you encouraged. “Check everything out. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay, thanks, babe.” Her voice softened as she ended the call, and you slipped the phone back into your pocket.

A few minutes later, the cashier handed you the food and drinks, the boba cups clinking lightly in the bag as you carried them to the car. The drive home was quiet, the golden hues of sunset stretching over the empty streets. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of finally relaxing with Karina after the long trip—sharing boba and maybe checking out the security footage together.

The house was dim when you opened the door, the faint scent of lavender and polished wood greeting you like an old friend. “I’m back!” you called out cheerfully, your voice cutting through the stillness as you stepped inside.

There was no reply.

You kicked off your shoes and carried the bags into the living room. The sight stopped you cold.

Karina sat frozen on the couch, her wide, unblinking eyes locked on the laptop screen. The faint glow illuminated her pale face, casting flickering shadows across the room.

“Karina?” you asked, your voice hesitant as unease crept into your chest.

She didn’t respond.

And then you heard it.

Moans—raw, breathless, and haunting—poured from the laptop speakers, filling the room with an intensity that made the air feel stifling. The sound swelled, growing louder with each passing second, an oppressive rhythm that clawed at the edges of your mind.

Amid the moans, a voice broke through, trembling yet fervent: “More… I want more!”

The bags slipped from your hands, hitting the floor with a muffled thud that barely registered. The cries reached a deafening crescendo, vibrating through the room as the glow from the laptop screen flickered erratically.

Karina’s lips parted slightly, her face pale and rigid, her wide eyes glassy with shock. Her trembling fingers hovered above the keyboard, frozen mid-air, as if the world around her had stopped. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, but she didn’t blink, didn’t move—she just stared, trapped in the haunting grip of whatever was unfolding on the screen.

You took a hesitant step forward, the sound assaulting your ears as the speakers blasted their relentless, desperate rhythm. The cries, the voice, the echoing moans—it clawed at something primal inside you, something that begged you not to see what she was seeing.

“Karina?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the cacophony.

And then she turned her head.

Her wide eyes met yours, filled with something that sent ice through your veins—fear, disbelief, and something darker, something that made your stomach churn. Her lips moved, trembling as though she was trying to form words, but no sound came.

The moans from the laptop swelled one final time, reaching a crescendo so visceral it felt like the room itself might burst apart. And then it stopped.

Silence.

But Karina’s gaze didn’t waver, and in the suffocating stillness that followed, you knew. Whatever she had just seen, whatever she had uncovered—it had already changed everything.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Dragonride (Daemon Targaryen x Servant!Reader)

synopsis: It was his wedding night, yet instead of consumating the marriage with his new bride, Daemon chooses to celebrate with someone else.

warnings: power imbalance, smut, p in v, fucking in the bathtub, semi public sex, afab reader

word count: 0.8

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

The whole day the castle had been running around. Preparing for the royal wedding that is supposed to bring benefit and safety to runestone. The rogue prince as a lord husband was the perfect promise of that. If only everything would have gone as planned.

All throughout the ceremony servants passed whispers to the farthest back of the castle about the cold distance between the royalty to be wed. How far they were sitting from each other, as if the other were made of poison, as well as the enemies prince Daemon apparently intended to make early on as it seemed.

It is of little surprise when you get tasked with preparing an additional room for the Targaryen to spend the night in.

And just in time. Right as you finish preparing a hot bath for the prince, his heavy boots carry his tall frame into the room.

“Your highness.” You greet him with a bowed head.

Upon the sign of a finger, you rush to help undress him. Steady fingers removing layer after layer of clothes until there is nothing hiding the pale skin from the dim light of the candles. Daemon is silent until the task is done. Yet he gives you a knowing smirk as your eyes accidentally roam over the length between his legs.

“You can go now.” He commands afterwards, already half turned towards the bathtub.

You bow again, however as your hand touches the cold, smooth doorknob, his voice sounds through the room once more.

“Wait a moment.” His voice is disinterested as always and he doesn't look at you as you turn to him anew.

“Yes, your highness? Do you require something else?” You inquire quietly.

“Indeed, I do.” Daemon pauses for you to inquire further or understand what he means without further explanation. 

When you don’t, he speaks up again. One single word. “You.”

Your breath stocks for a moment in your lungs, unable to think clearly as usual at the request. Not a request, more a command. One that leaves no room for arguments.

Who are you to refuse a Targaryen prince anyway. “As you wish, your highness.”

With slightly trembling hands, but deliberate moves, you shed the layers of clothing that hide your body from the blond's sight.

“Have you ever ridden a dragon?” Daemon asks with a mischievous half grin as you approach him. Every step carefully thought through as if he would bite off your head any second.

“I haven't, your highness.” You negate the answer to his question.

“Well, I think it is high time for your first flight.” One large, rough hand comes up to guide you into the borderline scalding water and on top of his lap. “And for the love of the gods, stop ending all of your sentences with your highness.”

“Yes, y-... Yes, of course.” You quickly catch the trip up and correct the mistake.

Still, it earns you a sternly raised brow, which in all honesty only furthered his attractiveness. Lost in thought, it is one of Daemon's hands wandering up your breasts and lays itself snug around your neck, that pulls you back to reality.

“Good. Now show me how good of a dragon rider you can be.” with one swift move Daemon impales you on his cock.

Immediately he sets for a punishing pace. No doubt needing to get rid of some energies that must have collected inside of and burned through him the entire day. The strength with which the prince’s hips meet yours send ripples of pleasure mixed with pain up your spine and all throughout your body. The scalding hot water that surrounds the two of you makes you sensitive to every little change in his touch. Especially now that Daemon grips your waist to hold you still as he fucks up into you so tight, it might as well have left bruises already. The sound of your nails scraping against the bathtub fills the room, only overshadowed by the drawn-out grunts and heavy, shuddered breaths that mingled between you, chasing away the steam of the water below.

It isn´t long until you can´t hold back your own strained moans. Your strength waning with every new assault to your core. And even shorter until you are only held up by Daemon´s hands, your body leaning forward limply. Chest to chest and face nestled in the crook of his neck. On a particularly harsh thrust your teeth graze his ear, being shaken by the body clashing into yours.

Underneath you Daemon growls, the sound is animalistic and sends a whole new wave of heat through your nervous system. The sweat that covers both of your bodies, begins to run down in droplets, mixing with the water, driven by the exertion put on you.

The Targaryen’s thrusts grow erratic from the all but possessive display, bringing the tidal wave of your pleasure down to crash over you.

He released a final few thrusts into your convulsing cunt before pulling out of you completely, leaving behind a trail of sticky seed as evidence of his conquest. The mixed fluids spilling out of you and into the water below.

[shuacore]

call me pretty (m)

vernon x f!reader 0.9k tags: established relationship, fluff, smut, dirty talk, pet names, heavy on pet names and praise and woooeirieiioktjtj

a/n: someday i'll write abt someone else.... not today though WOOOOWHOHOOO (tldr; utterly self indulgent vern smut <3)

vernon knows you like all the usual nasty stuff.

choking, spitting, taking you from behind, hair pulling, being controlled. you know, the usual. and in general, the sex is pretty good—he feels good inside you, knows what to do with his hands, always makes you feel loved.

apart from sex, however, vernon is pretty low-key when it comes to being a boyfriend. he’s more of a shower than a teller, like bringing you coffee at work or helping you out around the house without being asked. he tells you when you look nice, he picks out gifts that remind him of you. you’ve come to learn that being with vernon is constant assurance that he likes you, even if he doesn’t say it all the time.

you don’t need to hear him say that you look good, but it certainly doesn’t hurt.

the first time vernon says it and says it in earnest, he’s balls deep in you, fingers twisted deep in the pillowcase under your head. already you’ve been feeling the fire coursing through your veins, being so close to him like this, feeling vernon’s skin against your own. you always feel close to him, but something about missionary today has your toes curling and a yearning boiling in your gut so strong you can’t stop touching him. his chest, his biceps, his neck, his face. if you could crawl through vernon’s skin and sit in the cavern in his heart made for you, you would.

vernon’s cock pushes in deep and you feel the air leave your lungs, cheeks flushed, fingers wound deep in his damp curls.

“fuck, you look so pretty, baby,” vernon mutters. his voice is hoarse as he says again, “you’re so fucking pretty, baby, for me.”

the words hit you like a bowling ball and you go utterly still as a wave of heat so strong pulses through your body from your chest to your fingertips, leaving you breathless again. your jaw drops open as vernon groans, his cock still deep in you as he falls into the rhythm he knows you like. it thrums in your chest, the word.

pretty.

you let out a strangled groan as vernon noses along your jaw, one hand coming to rest at the base of your throat but not squeezing—just a subtle reminder that you’re completely his. as if you needed a sign as he groans more praise against your skin, leaving you hot all over and clenching desperately around his cock.

“shit–” vernon chokes, “what’s going on with you today?” he presses a kiss to your cheek as you take him all the way again, his hips slapping against your ass in the way you like.

words are scarce as you struggle to breathe normally. you knit your eyebrows together as you feel another wrench of pleasure in your stomach. “call me–fuck–pretty–”

vernon pulls away in surprise, hips stuttering, dark eyes wide. you can’t even stifle the whine that comes from your throat; everything is so sensitive today that the loss of sensation leaves you feeling achy. vernon grins, slow and affectionate as you squirm. he raises an eyebrow and leans forward to press his forehead to yours as his cock slips out and back in.

“you like that, honey, hmm? when i call you pretty? when i tell you how much i love you?” vernon murmurs, voice raspy under his breath. you feel the praise in your stomach as you cry out, nails biting into his scalp. “god, you’re so tight.”

you don’t even have the brainpower to talk back like you usually do. all you hear is vernon murmuring you're so pretty, baby a thousand times over in your head, leaving you warm and dizzy. all you can manage is a jerk of your head, as you feel yourself approach release. vernon’s hand finds yours, squeezing tight as you gasp.

“come for me, baby, wanna see it,” vernon pleads, wasted on you as he nears his own release. “for me, pretty girl–”

you squeeze your eyes shut as you come, going stiff as it takes over your whole body, seeing white behind your eyelids. as you clench around his cock, vernon comes shortly after, muttering curses under his breath with his hand still wrapped securely in yours. your chests heave and a few seconds pass before you have the energy to peel your eyes open. your body feels heavy, utterly spent from the sudden onslaught of feeling.

when you’ve both recovered vernon pulls out and rolls onto his side. his dark eyes are thoughtful as he brushes a strand of limp hair out of your face.

“pretty, huh?” vernon says, smiling slow. you feel another burst of warmth in your gut and bite your lip. “you like when i compliment you?”

you nod slowly and feel a flush creep up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks. vernon chuckles and swipes a thumb over it.

“so definitely.”

you hide your face in your hands, biting back a smile. vernon never failed to leave you feeling like a giddy teenager, even after so long.

“it’s nice,” is the best you can come up with when vernon looks at you like you hung the stars.

he scoots closer, slinging an arm low over your hip and presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. through your fingers you see him gazing at you with so much love your heart squeezes tight in your chest.

“anything for my pretty girl.”

—

other stuff!!! :3

[nakylvr]

need to be watching comfort movies with manon and holding her like please let me take care of you my heart hurts

i stopped studying to write this up, it's probably trash but i needed to do something

— ANYTIME, ALWAYS 👑

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, f!reader

you knew something was off the moment you stepped inside the dorm for the girls after getting a text from manon. it was quiet with the rest of the girls gone for the award show, an oddity for the home that was buzzing always. you were given an extra key from sophia who explicitly told you that you were the only one to have an extra and to not let the staff find out. to be fair, you didn't really care though if the staff found out right now.

when you got the text from manon that read; can you come by? :(, with nothing else, you had a feeling something was wrong. you showed up at the dorm within twenty minutes.

you step into the living room, seeing manon sitting on the couch with the hood of her hoodie over her head watching, or trying, to watch a movie on the tv. she doesn't even notice your presence until you step closer to her. "hey, baby," you say softly, making her finally realize you're there and look up at you.

"hey," she says quietly. "how did you get in?"

"sophia gave me a key a while ago," you answer, sitting down next to her on the couch. "is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly.

"mm," manon hums, not moving. "just...things," she mumbles.

"okay..." your voice trails off as your eyes glance around. "do you want to talk about it?"

manon shakes her head, her eyes finally meeting yours with tears in her eyes. she opens her mouth to speak but you're wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into your embrace before she can get anything out. she puts her face in your neck, her arms grabbing your shirt tightly as if you would disappear.

"it's okay," you whisper softly. "it's okay," you reiterate a few times, your hand rubbing her back reassuringly. you can feel a few wet droplets hitting your skin, and you pull her closer to you, her body practically pressing against yours as she quietly cries into your neck.

you can hear her mumbling into your skin, and you can only make out a few words every now and then, but you can decipher it and figure out what she's saying. "look at me, baby," you say quietly, moving your hands to her face.

manon slowly lifts her head from your neck to look at you, her eyes slightly red from crying with a few tears still trailing down her cheeks. "i-i don-don't understand-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt her quickly, knowing exactly where it would lead. "i'm going to stop you right there. just breathe, okay? everything will be okay, you will be okay. i don't know what you're seeing, but ignore it. it's hard, i know. it's been hard, i know. but you're the strongest person i've ever met," you wipe the tears away with the pads of your thumbs. "i love you so much, the girls love you so much, everyone loves you. forget the small percentage of people who are jealous because you're talented and they aren't. you are so important to so many people. you mean the world to so many, to me. i love you so much."

listening to your words has more tears welling in manon's eyes as she nods along to what you're saying. "i love you too," she mumbles quietly.

you lean in and softly press your lips against hers, feeling her reciprocate instantly as her hands rest on your waist. you pull away for a moment, leaning your forehead on hers while wiping away the remaining tears. "is there anything you want to do?" you ask.

manon shakes her head lightly. "not really. i was watching a movie, but it's kinda trash."

you nod while giving a short hum. "okay. how about we put a good movie on and i'll order us something to eat?" you suggest.

"i'm okay with that," she replies.

"okay," you peck her lips, smiling slightly. you grab the remote off the table and grab manon's arm, pulling her down on top of you as you lay on your back along the couch. she giggles softly at the action, resting her head on your chest as you look through the movies listed on the tv. putting on a random one, you put the remote down and look back at manon, wrapping your arms around her. "i love you so much," you quietly speak.

"i love you too," she responds in the same voice. "please don't leave," she whispers.

"i won't," you immediately reply. "i promise." you kiss the top of her head. "you don't have to worry about that. i'm staying for as long as you'll keep me around."

"forever?" she murmurs.

"forever."

[jaeyunluvbot]

midnight fiction

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 coworkers to lovers, strangers to lovers, coworker!wonbin x fem!reader, fluff, tiny bit of angst

word count 𝟅𝟈

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You sit at your desk, fingers moving deftly across the keyboard as you try to make a dent in the long list of tasks piled up for the day. The to-do list pinned to your monitor catches your eye, each unchecked box causing a pang of stress.

“Y/N!” Your manager’s voice breaks your focus, and you turn to see him walking toward you, his usual “I need you to do something for me” smile plastered across his face.

“Got a second? The new hire’s here—can you give him the tour? Show him the ropes?”

You smile curtly and hold back a deep sigh. “Sure. I’d be happy to.”

“I knew I could count on you!” he says, flashing you a grin before heading off.

You push back from your desk, grabbing the folder he’d dropped on your desk, and mentally preparing yourself. Usually, you love helping people, but your workload is already overwhelming, and your manager adding random tasks constantly certainly doesn’t help.

As you make your way to the lobby, you spot him—Wonbin. He stands near reception, tall and a little stiff in his crisp shirt and tie. His eyes flit around the room, a mix of curiosity and nervousness on his face. Clearly a new hire.

“Wonbin, right?” you call, forcing a friendly smile as you approach.

He turns toward you, and his face lights up. “Yeah, that’s me. You must be Y/N.”

“That’s me,” you reply, extending a hand. “Welcome to the team. I’m here to give you the grand tour.”

“Thanks,” he says, shaking your hand firmly. “I really appreciate it. Sorry to take up your time.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, but you brush it aside. “No problem. Let’s get started.”

As you lead him through the office, you point out the essentials—the break room, the conference rooms, the kitchen. “We have free coffee here, and snacks, but if you value your life, don’t touch anyone’s lunch in the fridge,” you say with a smirk.

He chuckles, his nervous energy easing a bit. “Good to know. Anything else I should know?”

“Stick with me, and you’ll survive,” you joke, surprising yourself with how easily the words come.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, flashing a grin.

By the time the tour ends, you begrudgingly admit he’s not as bad as you’d expected. He’s polite, eager to learn, and genuinely seems to care about getting things right. Still, you’re trapped under a mountain of work, and the extra time you’re spending with him feels like another item on your already endless to-do list.

“Alright,” you say as you stop near his desk. “That should cover the basics. Let me know if you have any questions. I’m just over there.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll try not to bother you too much,” he says with an earnest smile.

You give him a strained smile before heading back to your desk, already trying to refocus on your workload. But something about his tone lingers in your mind—a small, not unpleasant, but still unwelcome distraction.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Weeks later, the two of you have settled into an unspoken rhythm. Wonbin often comes to you for help, and while it cuts into your work time, you can’t bring yourself to turn him away. He’s quick to pick things up and always grateful, which softens your frustration even on the busiest days.

“Alright, for this system,” you say one afternoon, sitting beside him at his desk, “you need to make sure the codes match these formats. If not, you’ll get an error that’ll make you want to quit on the spot.”

He leans closer to your monitor, his face contorted in concentration. “Got it. Match the formats or die.”

“Exactly,” you reply with a chuckle. “Here, give it a try.”

He takes the keyboard, carefully navigating the program. “Like this?”

“Perfect. Just double-check the—”

“Y/N!” Your manager’s voice interrupts again, sharp and expectant.

You swivel in your chair, already bracing yourself for another request. “Yes?”

“The scheduling software is acting up again. Can you fix it? And after that, HR needs help with the training program revisions.”

You plaster on a polite smile, even as irritation prickles beneath your skin. “Sure thing.”

“Great. Thanks!”

As he walks away, you stare blankly at Wonbin’s monitor, overwhelmed by everything you still need to do, plus these new tasks.

“Wow,” Wonbin says softly, breaking the silence.

“What?” you ask, turning back to him.

“Do they always dump this much on you?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

You give him a tired smile. “Pretty much. I’ve got a knack for being reliable, I guess.”

“That’s not fair,” he says, frowning.

“It’s just how it is,” you reply with a shrug, masking your frustration. “Anyway, let’s finish this up so I can deal with that mess.”

Wonbin watches you for a moment, his expression pensive, before nodding and turning back to the screen. As you work together, you try to push your stress aside, but you can’t help but notice the way he looks at you—like he sees right through you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air as your team settled into a lively bar for the evening. It wasn’t your first choice for how to spend a Friday night, but you’d gone along with it—mostly out of guilt for turning down every other optional team event.

Wonbin, obviously, had found his way to your side the moment you arrived. “First office outing,” he said, holding up his drink with a sheepish smile. “Don’t let me embarrass myself too much.”

“I’ll try,” you said, grinning despite yourself.

The evening kicked off with lighthearted conversations and drinks, but it didn’t take long before someone spotted the karaoke machine in the corner. A cheer rose from the group as a few coworkers rushed to sign up for songs, dragging the less enthusiastic along with them.

“No way I’m singing,” you said, taking another sip of your drink.

“Oh, come on,” Wonbin teased, leaning closer. “You can’t let them have all the fun. Besides, it’s a team thing—bonding, right?”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You’re way too eager for someone who’s been here for like five minutes.”

He laughed. “I’m just trying to fit in. Plus, karaoke’s fun. You should try it.”

You laugh and shake your head furiously, “Singing really isn’t my thing, so no thanks.”

He drops it there and you appreciate him not pressuring you to venture too far outside of your comfort zone.

It didn’t take long for the microphone to find its way to you. Someone had signed you up—likely as a joke—and before you could protest, your coworkers were chanting your name.

“You’ve got this,” Wonbin said, nudging you toward the stage with an encouraging grin.

Reluctantly, you chug the rest of your drink, and made you way to the stage, picking the first familiar song you see, deciding it was better to just get it over with. The music started, and as you sang, you felt your nerves ease. By the end of the song, you were smiling, met with loud applause and cheers from the team.

“Not bad!” Wonbin called out as you returned to your seat, cheeks flushed from the attention.

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help laughing.

When it was his turn, Wonbin took the stage with the same amount of energy he had at work, a lot. He picked a fast-paced, upbeat song and leaned fully into the performance, complete with exaggerated dance moves that had the entire room doubling over with laughter.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched him. He looked so carefree, so genuinely happy, and it was contagious.

You’d never noticed how attractive he actually was, usually too distracted with your work and general disdain for the office environment. You brush the thought off as quickly as it had entered your mind, not needing to add a crush, however small, to your already hectic life.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The outing ended with you and Wonbin leaving together, walking side by side toward the bus station. The streets were quieter now, the buzz of the bar replaced by the soft hum of passing cars and the occasional whooshing of the wind.

“That was… surprisingly fun,” you admitted, glancing at him.

“See? Told you karaoke’s not so bad,” he said, smirking.

You chuckled, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Alright, fine. You win this one. But seriously, you were… something else up there. That dance routine?”

“I aim to entertain,” he said with mock pretentiousness, making you laugh again.

As the laughter faded, you found yourself relaxing in his presence in a way you hadn’t expected. The conversation turned quieter, more genuine, as you opened up about the stress you’d been feeling at work. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, his expression softening.

“You do way too much for that place,” he said finally. “They don’t deserve you.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “It’s just… part of the job,” you said lamely.

“Doesn’t mean it’s fair,” he said, his tone firm. “You deserve a break, Y/N. Or at least someone to help take some of the load off.”

You gave him a small smile, touched by his sincerity and care. “Thanks, Wonbin.”

He shrugged, but his eyes stayed on you, warm and steady. “Anytime.”

You turn away from him, your shoulder gently shoving against his as you resume walking towards the bust stop. Your face feels suddenly a bit warm, but you elect to blame it on the biting wind.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your surprising new after-work routine had started as a coincidence. One evening after work, you found yourself walking toward the bus station at the same time as Wonbin. The conversation was light, filled with random musings about the day and jokes about a particularly obnoxious coworker who always seemed to have something urgent five minutes before clocking out.

The next day, it happened again. Then the day after that. Before long, it became a routine.

“Okay, so tell me if I’m crazy,” Wonbin said one evening as you both trudged along the quiet sidewalk. His breath puffed in the cold air. “But does Mr. Lee always call for a meeting just to hear himself talk?”

You snorted. “Absolutely. The man loves the sound of his own voice. Did you notice he always asks questions, then interrupts when you answer?”

Wonbin’s laugh rang out, warm and genuine. “Right? It’s like, ‘Why even ask, man?’”

You shook your head, still grinning. “It’s honestly a skill. He could teach a class on how not to communicate.”

“Sign me up,” Wonbin said, mock-serious. “I need to be prepared.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, the stress of the workday melting away as you teased each other and bonded over shared grievances. It was strange, but comforting—having someone who just got you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few weeks into your routine, the weather took a sharp turn. That day, you’d rushed out the door, forgetting your jacket in your scramble to make it on time. By the time you and Wonbin started your walk to the bus station, the cold had sunk its teeth into you.

“Are you seriously not wearing a jacket?” Wonbin asked, glancing at you as you shivered beside him.

“Forgot it at home,” you admitted, hugging yourself for warmth. “It’s fine. I’ll survive, we’re almost at the bus stop anyways.”

He frowned, stopping in his tracks. Before you could ask why, he shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Wonbin—no, you’ll freeze!” you protested, trying to hand it back.

“Relax,” he said, waving you off. “You’ve helped me so much with work—even though you’re swamped. It’s the least I can do.”

You hesitated, looking at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll be fine. My bus is quicker, anyway.”

The jacket was warm, carrying the faint scent of his cologne. You pulled it tighter around yourself, your face heating despite the chill. “Thanks,” you mumbled.

He grinned. “Anytime. Just don’t forget it again, or I might start charging you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter. The walk continued, the silence between you now companionable. You glanced at him, his hands shoved in his pockets against the cold, and a thought you hadn’t dared to entertain before crept into your mind: maybe, just maybe, there was something more here.

It didn’t take long for your routine walks to the bus station to evolve into hanging out outside of work. At first, it was casual—a quick coffee after a long day, or splitting fries at the diner near the office. But soon, those quick moments turned into hours of talking, laughing, and getting to know each other beyond the walls of cubicles and meeting rooms.

One evening, after an especially frustrating day, the two of you sat on a bench at a small park near the bus stop. The air was crisp, and Wonbin had insisted on grabbing hot chocolate, claiming it was the ultimate stress relief. You had to admit, despite the chill, it was helping.

“So,” Wonbin said, leaning back on the bench and licking his cone thoughtfully. “Any progress on that scheduling software you were cursing under your breath all day?”

You groaned. “Don’t remind me. I feel like I aged ten years trying to fix that. Honestly, it’s just one more thing making me wonder if I should stick around here.”

Wonbin turned to you, his brows knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, not sure why you felt nervous admitting it. But with him, it was easy to be honest. “I’ve been looking at other jobs,” you said finally. “I don’t know if I want to stay at the company. It’s just… a lot. And I feel like I’m always being forced to work on something way above my paygrade, you know?”

Wonbin stayed quiet for a moment, staring down at his half-melted cone. “Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “But, selfishly, I think you should stay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

He grinned, but there was something in his tone that felt unusually sincere. “Because I’d miss you too much if you left.”

The words hung in the air, catching you off guard. He said it casually, almost like a joke, but the way his eyes lingered on yours told a different story.

You laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension you suddenly felt. “Well, that’s sweet, but I don’t think ‘keeping Wonbin company’ is a valid reason to stay in a job I hate.”

“Hey, it could be a selling point,” he said with a playful smirk. “Think about it: ‘Excellent coworker morale boost included.’”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “But I mean it. You’ve made this whole thing so much easier for me. I don’t know how I’d survive without you.”

Your heart fluttered, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the streetlights flickering in the distance. “Well, I haven’t decided anything yet,” you said, your voice quieter.

“Good,” he said, nudging your shoulder gently. “Because the office wouldn’t be the same without you. And neither would my life.”

The conversation drifted to other topics, but his words stayed with you long after you’d said goodbye for the night.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

This day had been nothing short of brutal. Deadlines were looming, the to-do list on your desk seemed to grow longer instead of shorter, and your manager had barely acknowledged all the extra work you’d been handling. By the time five o’clock rolled around, you were drained and on the verge of breaking down in tears.

As you packed up your things, Wonbin appeared by your desk, his usual bright smile in place. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head to study your expression. “You okay?”

You forced a tired smile. “Just a long day.”

He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, we’re leaving. You need a break.”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Arcade,” he said, grabbing your bag off the back of your chair and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Wonbin, I’m not exactly in the mood—”

“Exactly why we’re going,” he interrupted, a teasing grin lighting up his face. “Trust me. It’ll help.”

Reluctantly, you followed him, not having the energy to argue with him after the day you’d had.

He practically drags you out of the office, grabbing your hand to guide you, and surprisingly, he doesn’t let it go until you reach your destination.

The arcade was brightly lit and buzzing with energy, packed with kids and teens shouting excitedly over games. As you stepped inside, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Wonbin, we’re the only adults here.”

“So?” he said, unfazed, already scanning the room for a claw machine. “We’re twenty-something. That’s basically still kids, right?”

You shook your head, the stress of the day momentarily lifting. “Debatable.”

But it didn’t take long for you to get swept up in the fun. The two of you battled it out at a racing game, shot hoops side by side, and groaned dramatically when the claw machine refused to let go of the stuffed animal Wonbin had been trying to win for you.

By the time you were done, your cheeks hurt from smiling and your bad mood was a distant memory. Wonbin had even won you a cute plush from a claw machine, and when you’d tried to pay him back for the cost of how many tries it took him to win, he brushes you off, claiming it’s a way for him to thank you for helping him when he was still a new employee.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You can’t help but feel a touch of sadness at the ending of your little outing, selfishly wanting to spend more time with Wonbin, even though you knew you could use some rest too, probably more than he could.

The two of you walk side by side to the bus stop, occasionally exchanging hushed words, but mainly enjoying the quiet of the city at night.

The bus stop was quiet, the streetlights casting soft swaths of light over the sidewalk. You stood side by side, the energy of the arcade still lingering in the air between you.

“Feeling better?” Wonbin asked, his tone more gentle, almost loving now.

“Much,” you admitted. “Thanks for dragging me out. I needed that.”

He smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more serious.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice unusually quiet.

You turned to him, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

He took a deep breath, meeting your eyes. “I like you. I mean, really like you. And I know it’s probably bad timing with everything going on, but… I want to take you out. On a real date.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth blooming in your chest at his words. But just as quickly, reality set in.

“Wonbin,” you said softly, your voice tinged with regret. “You know how strict the company is about coworkers dating. I can’t… I don’t want to risk either of our jobs.”

His face fell slightly, but he nodded, his understanding clear. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel.”

You offered a small, sad smile. “I’m really glad you told me. And if things were different…”

He smiled faintly, his usual brightness dimmed but still there. “It’s okay. I get it.”

The bus arrived, and you both climbed on, sitting in your usual seats together. The ride was quiet but comfortable, his confession lingering in the air between you.

Though you hadn’t said it out loud, you couldn’t shake the realization that you liked him too. And now, you weren’t sure how to handle the growing feelings that had been set in motion.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The past few weeks had been a blur. Work piled higher than ever, and the looming deadline for the big project had consumed almost every waking moment. You’d barely had time to think, let alone spend any quality time with Wonbin. Your evenings were spent in exhaustion, collapsing into bed before you could even reply to his last message.

Despite the distance, he never complained. He still texted you every day—little updates about his life, random memes, or just simple “Don’t forget to eat!” reminders. You tried to keep up, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.

You missed him. And it seemed like he missed you too.

The stress at work finally hit a breaking point one late night as you stared at your computer screen, the relentless grind taking its toll. With a deep breath, you decided enough was enough. On a whim, you updated your resume and applied to a few jobs, not really expecting much.

But to your surprise, an offer came in—one that promised better hours, a higher paycheck, and the kind of work-life balance you hadn’t experienced in years. The decision wasn’t easy, but deep down, you knew it was the right one.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Two weeks later, your resignation letter had been submitted, you were on your very last day, and your going-away party was in full swing.

The office was buzzing with energy, laughter echoing through the room as your coworkers gathered to celebrate your time at the company. For the first time in ages, you felt like you could breathe again. The weight of work stress had finally lifted, and for the first time in a long while, you felt genuinely happy.

Wonbin was there, of course, standing off to the side with his usual warm smile, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“You look happy,” he said softly when you crossed paths during the party.

“I feel happy,” you admitted. “It’s like I can finally move on from… everything.”

His smile grew a little wistful. “It suits you.”

As the party wound down and the others began to leave, you found yourself volunteering to stay behind and clean up. Wonbin joined without hesitation, the two of you working in comfortable silence as you packed away decorations and collected stray plates and cups.

The quiet was soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos of the last few months.

“So,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence. “About that date?”

Wonbin froze mid-step, blinking at you as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”

You turned to him, a small, teasing smile playing on your lips. “You said you wanted to take me out, but I don’t date coworkers, remember?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and then realization dawned. His eyes widened. “Wait… you’re not my coworker anymore.”

“Exactly,” you said, your grin widening.

The joy on his face was instant, a brilliant smile spreading across his features as he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed you—soft and sweet, filled with all the feelings you’d both been holding back for months.

When he pulled back, his expression was full of wonder. “You’re serious about this?”

“Very,” you said, your cheeks warm. “I thought you’d be sad to see me go though. Something about missing me too much?”

He laughed, his voice soft and full of affection. “I’ll miss you, sure. But now I can do this…” He kissed you again, slower this time, his hand gently resting on your cheek.

When he pulled away, he grinned. “So yeah, it’s a win in my book.”

You laughed, your heart lighter than it had been in months. Maybe leaving the job was the right move after all—especially if it meant stepping into something new with him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 this one was requested by my best friend so kenz if ur reading this, ur welcome pookie! i lowkey love this one, so pls make sure to leave a like and comment if u also enjoyed it.

masterlist.

[holylulusworld]

Christmas games

Summary: He promised to help you…

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: fluff

“Jake, you promised to help me!” You huff and put your hands on your hips. You called for your boyfriend for five minutes, only for him to sit on the couch to play another video game. “Did you even listen?”

Stepping closer, you look at the TV; a half-naked woman is talking to Jake’s character.

“Yeah, I bet it will look awesome as always, babe. I don’t care about the colors.”

“What? I—” You watch Jake guide his character through a fantasy world. He’s following that half-naked woman—or is it an elf? “Jake, what are you doing with that thing?”

“Playing,” he mumbles, engrossed in his game. Jake is so lost in the world he tries to explore with his controller that he doesn’t realize you are standing next to him to watch his character talk to that woman. “I’m about to…” Jake lifts his eyes from the TV to look at you. He swallows thickly, watching your jaw tick. “Uh—she offered me…”

“A good time?” You wrinkle your nose. “I heard about this kind of game. I thought you got enough sexy time in real life.”

He gasps and drops the controller. “Baby, I swear I never had sex with a character in any game. Uh—I mean since we got together.” His cheeks are pink when he looks at you with innocent blue eyes. “Back then, I was a horny teen, and one thing led to another.”

You smirk. “I bet it wasn’t even a girl, but a grandpa pretending to be a girl.” Jake shudders at your words. “Now, will you help me decorate or play your game all day?”

“I only tried it out for the guys’ night next weekend,” he hastily says. “I’ll help you with decoration now and play the game later.”

“Later, huh.” You pat his cheek. “What a pity. I wanted to try on my naughty Christmas costume and show it to you, but if you are busy with your game…” You shrug. “I’ll ask someone else.”

Jake’s eyes widen. He gets up from the couch, stepping over the controller to grip your upper arms. “Baby, you won’t show anyone your naughty costume!”

“Well, it looks like you have no time for me,” you fake a sigh. “I must decorate the apartment alone because you’re busy playing another game with some half-naked woman.”

You pout and look away, pretending to be hurt. “Baby, I swear we will decorate the apartment together right now. Let me shut the TV off, and I’m ready to play Mr. Cringle.”

Smirking, you watch Jake jump into action. He shuts off the TV, picks the controller up, and removes the chips and beverages from the coffee table.

“Hmm… I don’t know,” you say as he expectantly looks your way. “I think something is missing.”

He looks around the room. “What is missing?”

“Oh, I know!” You exclaim. “Mr. Cringle needs a naughty costume too!”

Tags in reblog.

[unholywriters]

Demon's Desire - Chapter Three: Lustful Wants

Summary: After getting your new wings from felix, who seemed to have left you quiet a lot of things in return. You stared to work on your list along with trying to get other things you'd normally get done but you also had another goal in mind, to find hyunjin and talk to him. Wanting to know how you got caught in that crash to begin with and see what his role was, also seeing how he is once the moon is out.

Word Count: 5.6k

Parts: Teaser, 01, 02

Tags: Demon AU, Demon royalty AU, demon chan, demon felix, demon lee know, demon seungmin, demon han, demon changbin, demon hyunjin, demon jeongin, unprotected sex, male reader, top stray kids with some switches, bottom reader, MDNI, talks or hell, torture, sexual things, possessiveness, obsessiveness, poly! stray kids, poly! chan, poly! felix, poly!hyunjin, Poly!changbin, poly!seungmin, Poly!i.n., Plly

Taglist: @felixneverbadd @gnusihcom @a-short-ass-disappointment

PS: please enjoy this teasing hyunjin who enjoys messing with you, but nonetheless, reminding you of what he could really do if he wanted to. But being more soft towards you durning the late hours of the night, I hope you're enjoying the series so far, Please feel free to ask for a spot in the taglist I promise I will add you into it so you can enjoy the many chapter to come, not sure how many but they will happen. Next in the list will either be Gluttony Changbin or a sloth Hannie just to throw in something a little extra please enjoy and tell me who do you think should be next.

With that being said I decidede to take another darker turn towards the end just a little surprise, sorry it took me a while but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless1

Filling my tub with warm water, bubbles and rose petals like I always do when taking a bath in the morning. Before I did any of that I made myself a drink, nothing too strong as of right now and set it next to the large sunken in tub with soft music playing the background to help me feel more relaxed then not. I grabbed a silk robe from my closet, usually the first one I see and hang it close to the tub with my towel for drying myself along with my bathroom vanity set up, with the wig from yesterday on the mannequin head for me to get ready for that process. I wanted to do that before I did anything else just to see if it was a lost cause or not and I just needed to take time with it and not rush into it. Taking off the rest of my clothes and setting them down to laundry hamper I kept in there near the tub but not close. My actual hair isn't that bad but if I can keep it up while I take a bath I do, and if not I just let it hang free while I do what I need to do and there's nothing wrong with that.

Slowly getting in I let out a relaxed sigh while slowly letting my back rest against the tub, closing my eyes while I let myself relax. This is all I truly wanted when coming home from work after so long. Just relax, eat somethingwhile watching a show and fall asleep hoping I'm not missing anything while getting ready to do more of a lot of things in the morning. All I wanted to do was this, grabbing my favorite bath sponge and soap I began scrubbing while being carerful of some spots, lookiong closely while I saw a small rose on my left side. It made me stop while I remember seeing the same one on felix, though it was intresting since mine was smaller then I think I could see what his was since it was still covered. It was going to be intresting to hide these during shows, makes me wonder what they would do if they saw those roses being covered just so I can keep my money up.

These men have everything in their hands, but I hate just taking it or being given that, I worked my way to get here. Even when I was constantly in pain and wanted to juist disappear and hope for the next life I would have loving people for my family who didn't want to make my life a living hell while I crawl my way to a palce they've been wanting to do for years yet lost. If I was going to get something, I was going to earn it no matter what any of them wanted to tell me or spoil me. I won't accept less or lowballs for it either. Getting out of the tub and letting out the water, I dried myself off with my towel and used my favorite lotion while making sure my face was cleaned since the makeup was ruined. Getting dressed in something casual for me to wear, it dind't matter to me, just as long as I felt comfortable in this moment right now I was ready to know this was going to be a while. Singing what I could just to get through this, having a steamer to get through this is my best friend for all of this. But the hair wasn't getting better, it wasn't the same anymore, I needed something new.

Maybe I can ask felix when I see him later if it's even possible but there's nothing else I could really do about it. Even after trying for hours to make sure I got everything since yet again I refused to just give up without making sure I could do something but not everything can be saved. There is no point on beating myself up over things I have no control over, that just makes everything harder to get through and I'm not here for it. I closed the wig in the bag it came with and looked at the other two felix had given me. One was the same as my last one, just a bit more sparkely then before. The other one was just as long and flowy, something I loved when getting wigs or even letitng my down my actual hair, but it was a dark blue, almost like a midnight blue to give out something…new. It was like something emerging from the dark and capturing you're attention just to pull you back in the darkness and giving you an embrace that there was no getting out of. Maybe I could use this one for now, since I needed something new after a while.

I help the bag and walked out of the bathroom over to my closet, the large walk in closet with a wide range of everything. Looking through I knew I needed something casual now, the things I was wearing had some sliver strands stuck on it and I just wanted to get into something else. Maybe just a hoodie with some sweats, I should also just let my natural hair breathe for a while. Letting it down while changing into a comfortable hoodie before walking to my room, walking to my work desk where I tend to keep my credit card, notepad to make sure I tracked everything and knew how much I spent on one store, if I go to any. Sometimes If I know I could afford to spend enough I should be good to go on a shopping spree, maybe that's what I need after a long day, well the start of a second one I could feel it coming and man was I not ready and just really wanted to get things done and come back home just to relax. Though my bedroom needed more decore, it was looking boring still I'm getting done with it by now.

I mainly enjoyed walking since I didn't want to drive, my roadrage was too real and I knew I would hit someone in a road rage or I'd get chased and walking just seems a little bit more…manageable after this. Grabbing my small bag I walked towards the door, making sure all of my cards were in there along with some cash just in case. Making sure I had my room key I left and locked the door, tapping the card against the keypad twice to make sure it's locked entirely before walking back to the elevator, one thing I forgot to mention that was in here was my earbuds so I can stay focused on shopping and not have to worry about random people calling my name when I don't feel like talking to them and just stay focused on the things I need to do so I can go home earlier and feel more relaxed and not feeling like I was already doing entirely too much for one day. Slipping them on as I pressed teh main floor button, I just played a random song on my playlist and elft it on shufle while waiting to go down the entire way. Walking out and handing over my key before walking out of hte large black steel metal doors to get to the main sidewalk, turning right and just walking down to the main store close to me, wanting to get my food shopping done first instead of just ordering fast food or eating out. I wanted to cook my own food for tonight and call it good.

It wasn't that far, was it always crowded though? Yes, was I used to it by now? Kinda but not entirely either. Grabbing a shopping cart I began walking around, staying on the left side since this closer and knowing me I was going too carry this all home and give it all to a staff member who has access to all the rooms, and would set everything inside my room without a hitch. Should I have bothered Felix back at home? Maybe but I don't know the exact room number he's in since the door closed right as he started to walk pratically since this place also makes sure everyone is safe, especially those who pay for the higher rooms since those cost more to take care of, though they do treat the lower rooms the same since I used to stay there before getting a bigger room like the one I have now. Sure it would take longer sometimes but since they've been able to expand on a lot more things, every floor now has their own keepers to make things a lot more easier. Something I thought was smart to do because it meant no one would try to steal from the higher rooms and get in trouble for it so fair is fair if you ask me.

But overall it was fine, and I was taking my time and felt more relaxed while trying to plan these out. Looking at everything, I felt better knowing I wasn't using that much but overall it was considered a lot. Overall, with everything I had in my cart, I spent just about 58,000 won ($54) in total with everything in bags before walking back to the hotel. My head held up high and kept walking to the front desk, which was a little bit late since of the drag because of the bags, but I was able to hand them over and watch the people walk to the elevator, where I was surprised to see hyunjin leaving in the same outfit he had when he dropped me off here. I titled my head as he flashed me a smile while walking over to me, his smile never wavering as he got closer. “Well look what we have here, what’s happening right here?” He stood close to me, looking down with his hands still in his pocket while I crossed my arms.

“Didn't feel like getting too dressed up on my day off, what are you doing here?” I asked him, watching him hum and walk around me for a while, almost like he was singing a song in his head anf feeling happy about it and just trying to feel himself. “I wanted to come see what Felix was doing since we have a lot to do tonight. I was about to leave and go to go shopping for some clothes, what were you about to do hm? Cook something and not give me a plate?” I felt my own eyes roll at that statement but I also had a smile on my face despite my efforts to try not to. “I usuaslly go window shopping unless I want something clothes wise, despite my outfit right now, why did you want to try and make up for confusing me when I left after we first met?” I poked a little bear, I could see it in his eyes that he was surpised just a little but and I wanted to keep smirking at the thought it but I didn't. I just kept looking at him while he got closer. I could tell he wanted to reach his arm out like he's been doing almost everytime we've met for now but he stopped himself and honestly I wanted to grab him and walk out since I could tell some people were trying to watch and be nosey about the bussiness that was happening right now but I kept my face as straight as I could.

But he surprised me because he got close enough and leaned down in my ear, his hands coming out of his pockets to hold my sides carefully. “You're smartt babyboy and I like it, let’s talk more about that away from nosey ears, doesn't that sound like a smart idea?” I could only feel myself nod while fighting the urge to roll my eyes. He pulled away just a bit and once again wrapped his left arm around my waist, walking out of the lobby to find him with a different car. “BMW? This looks more pricey then the ones I see on the special events we tend to have.” “Because it was custom made a while ago, thought I have her come out for a drive.” He opened the door and let me inside the backside, I didn't want to smile but I could feel myself smiling as I got in and looked at the black and wine red intieror. He knew what he liked and what looked good, I know some who just woudl've gone with the generic red but this was just the right kind of dark red that feel like a luxury to have. I can imagine the features he has for it as well but won't show it to me yet. “And don't worry about the drivers, I'mnot supposed to be telling you this so early but given how smart you are, I'm sure you can tell something about the drivers now can't you?” I looked over to him, watching him get in the car and closing the door while just leaning back in his seat, of course he didn't need a seatbelt. I guess overall I didn’t need one either but I was used to wearing one everytime I got in a cab just to go anywhere. After all It made sure I somewhat survivedand didn't just go flying out of the car like a fly.

“I thought they were just good at their job and acting like they didn't hear anything as much?” He shook his head, leaning it to the left while humming. “Their lifeless, we each have our own ones, a maxium of 15 just to throw peoeple off.” “Did you tell yours to get into a crash?” I raised a brow, almost ready to explode on him for getting me in this situation because I truly just wanted to go home and continue with my life and proabably laugh at my sister for making a scene if she ever did. “No, our leader had that planned out, we just needed to bring one to the car and hoep he or she would be able to make it past the drinking phase. Usually they all burn from the inside out. I wasn't supposed to be there, since I would stand out but Sometimes I don't listen to him, he gets annoyed about it but there's not a lot he can do other then keep me back in the main house for a while till he thinks I've learned my lesson for not listening to him when he says no.” My mind was trying to put the pieces together again, because clearly I'm not supposed to know who this leader is, but by the looks of it he seems more focused on his friends well-being but making sure the rules are being listned to and not ignored to a point of disrespect.

“The one in the middle? He looks terrifying almost when I met him.” Hyunjin has a habit of tilting his head slightly side to side I can see. Just from the way he's looking now, even when the driver is getting closer to the mall, I can see it from afar and by the looks of it, it's gonna be crowded all over again. Maybe I'll see some coworkers and we can either go on with the day or just talk. Sometimes we do butother times we see a lot of paying customers who used to get violent and try to keep ourselves hidden. Some are just weird but over all it's not my problem nor am I going to carry it like it is. “He can be like that in public or when we have someone we like. For your case, it's to show that we may tell you stories of him being funny and whatnot, but he also wants you to know he has a say in a lot of things that even I can't cross him in. And there will be nothing that any of us could do about it. But, if he likes you slightly, he might go easy on you.” The car parked in front of the main mall entrance, we could see some people peaking while they were walking, hyunjin got out and held his hand out. I tilted my head before looking down and seeing that my outfit was changed.

I wasn't wearing my laid back clothes, instead I was wearing something more fitting for the mall but it was still loose and laid back. I had a black undershirt on with a large white buttoned up see-tihrough shirtthe buttons were slightly undone, only 3 tops ones were and I now had black slack pants with a sliver chain on my left pocket with a large hoop on the front pocket. The sneakers were a nice pick, I was compleletely fine with this one as well but it confused me while I got out and held his hand. “How did you change my outfit? I was fully prepared to ignore people for judging my outfit.” His arm and hand went back to their favorite place while we walked to the entrance while we could slightly hear some whispers and still feel some of the stares coming from many angles.

“Because I'm the type of person that would say something to cause a scene and then ruin their life. Besides think of it as helping getting used to your new life. The main people you have to worry about in public, is our leader obviously, lee know and changbin. Those three take no disrespect when it comes to things like this. And that's not for debate.”

“I'm really worth allof that for 8 men who just met me and decided I was the one?”

I watched him nod his head while we walked and looked around some. There was one outfit I knew Iwanted even if it was for formal events and those are something I rarely attend to unless some of the fancy richer people I know decide to invite me. Even when I know they just need something for me, I charge for that kind of serives because I'm not just going to allow it to happen without someone regretting about it very much.I think hyunjin was just letting me be the guide while he walked along with me. “These are very high dresses, had a plan to attend something fancy outside of the bar now did you?” I could only shurg some while looking around. Slowly getting away from his wamring touch and looking at the racks before seeing a dark wine dress. “Depends onif any of you tend on inviting me to anything, Can't be surprised only to rely on someone to give me a backup. I like having my own options when we go out.” I would keep lookiong up to see his reaction to it since he seems like the type to enjoy spoiling someone he consideres to like, I have more questions for him, but with most of thios being in public it would draw attention and that would be the last thing I needed or wanted to deal with really.

“Besides look at this one, how could I say no to that?” I wanted to try and keep this conversation as normal as possible since I knew i'd be able to talk to him more later tonight. Even though it felt like it was so far from now, I knew that would be more of a better time since then we'd have no one else to worry about. I think he was able to catch onto my thinking or the fact that I really wanted to talk about something with him but it just wasn't coming out the way we wanted to. Since it would also make things a problem and it would be something none of us wanted to. But going back to the dress, it was more considered a mermaid style of a dress, a dark wine red color that would go well with any formal meetings or gatherings which I can only imagine that the men attened. There was a hand stitched design The top had that of a flower and stem design, left to your imagination of what kind of flower, I would say a rose since the color of the dress. The fabric felt like satin with a lace back style, something I knew I had the perfect boots for. Something I always enjoyed when getting dressed up was doing things like this, after all if I look good in a dress, why let my gender stop me from doing so? Even if my shoulders would show and I could probably tuck in the spaghetti straps on the dress to make it look like it was strapless, something I also liked when wearing something like it.

“Well now that you mentioned it, that girl you claimed to be related to when I picked you up.” Carefully putting the dress back on the rack, I looked over to him while he seemed to be looking at his own versions of a dress or even a suit to look for, since everything was close together and it all just overall seemed to look better. “There is an event I was invited to, along with felix and some of the others, you’d get to meet our leader for sure. I was going to go alone, but if you want to go with me then we can go together?” I titled my head to the side being curious of it since I wanted to see what else he had to offer. “Well what’s the attire? How classy or fancy do we have to dress up?” I could see the look in his eyes, he seemed to be happy and excited to be able to get something or the two of us and maybe even making something for the others to see and have something incorporated into the outfit of choice. “Let me surprise you, you can get anything else you wanted from here and I'll handle everything else.”

Hyubjin agreed to have us matching wth some outfits, I let him pickthe outfits from when we lwft and he would come and pikc me up at the time we needed to go, which would be around 7pm, since it was going to be a long drive to somewhere far away from the pearing eyes of those in the city. But that didn't mean there wouldn't be any security. There would be since everyone ahd to verify who they were and who they were going with. Hyunjin promised that he would talk to his leader and get things handled so I could attend with little to no worryandhe would pay for the ticket if he needed to. Which I was sure wa like pocket change for him since he could walk into a store and get things for free but he would still pay the workers mroe then they were getting in most cases since some people would be rude to them after he left. He dropped me off at home, saying he would send the outfit when he was able to get what he knew would be good while I did my makeup.

I didn't go too wild with my makeup, I wanted something simpy but it would still be straight to the point. I decided to stick with black and gold since it just felt right. I didn't want to do the same looks I do for shows, which is just any silver or platinum looks and I wanted to try something different so black and gold it is. The inners of my eyes were a bright gold that would sparkle in any form of light. The outer parts of my eyes faded to a black settled look. To me it was giving a smokey eyed look but I enjoyed it for myself. I added a winged eyeliner just to look more dramatic? In a way but I liked it, my hair was curled, even with it being small {Just in case the reader has short hair} The Sun was started to set when I heard my doorbell ring.

Walking over and opening the door, it was the gift sender from downstairs and held out teh box to me. Smiling to me as I thanked her and walked back inside, setting the box on table and slowly opening it. Gasping in shock as I slowly held it up, It was something I didn't expect from him, this must be a very important event for him to send me something like this. It was a straples dress with a large black flab around my chest area that had a long piece go down the back almost a veil but it was for the back, the front had black jewels with the left side showing the left side of my waist and thigh, but I would have something to cover things no one else was allowed to see. The jewels reminded me of soemthing reaching out like tree roots in the ground. I had just the best pair of heels for these along with a small bag. I got dressed and messed with my hair while making sure everything looked great. Putting on my black heels that had gold on the bottom with a small black bow on hte back and more black jewels on the front. Walking around ym closet I grabbed a small back pruse with a long black string. Inside I would have my favorite cologne, a matching black and gold fan with my favorite birthday cake chapstick with my clear yet sparkly lipgloss.

I almost felt mself wanting to grab my matching black goves just to have something but I felt like I was doing way too much with that so I decided against it, but I did add some black dangling earings with a simple gold necklace with two matching gold bracelets. Looking in the mirror, I looked something new but I was happy with it. I liked the way I looked, how every curse was hugged but it wasn’t too tight or lose. Looking at my phone, because yes he made sure I had his number so I could surprise him instead of him waiting for me downstairs with felix since the two of them were going to ride together. I got the text that he was here and after maksing sure everything was locked, my phone was in my pocket. Double checking that everything was right and off, I left my room and locked it. Walking down the to elevator and walking past everyone on the main lobby, handing the front desk and handing over my key, smiling as I walked to the double doors and soon to the gates. Thanking those who looked at me before someone offered to open the gate and there I saw the two men waiting by the luxury limo.

Hyunjin wore a long sleeved white shirt, the shirt having flower and star shaped cutouts from the fabric itself with one long black glove that had a silver braclet. The black tight leather jeans had a black and gold belt around his waist but had some silver chains hanging from some of the belt loops, with the jeans covering the high boots he was wearing, at least I was guessing he was wearing those. He looked at me with a proud smile but he was also had a shokced look on his face while I walked closer. Looking over to felix, who had more of shocked face but was still happy to see me. He seemed to take more a prince look by his outfit. It was pure white, practically the same color as snow, no wonder we had so many people staring. Yet there was still some gold accents to it, the collar covering his neck had a gold stitched in flower with a gold chain going to his right shoulder. On the right side on the white pocket was a gold, I wantt to call it a button but its not. He did have gold buttons on it though, shinning with the light while the left side was covered with a matching clock. If I didn't know any better I would've assumed he was a prince with how he was dressed for such an event. And I can see why the place were going is going to be concsidered private from the public eye and we have to go out of town for it.

“Now Hyunjin look at this, you pratically incorporated everyones outfits into one dress for this handsome man, we're going to be late for this.” Felix wanted to say more, but people were talking and some were starting to pull out there phones to take vides or pictures. So all got into the black limo and comfortably sat as the limo drove off. “Well, minus the mob that was growing, thank you Felix, I told you I was going to try and blow people away.” “You two looked like you came straight from a fairytale and decided to come look for a bride and decided on a male. You two can’t say much when it comes to me.” I joked, seeing hyunjin act dramatically shocked, and felix starting to laugh. “Guessing by the fancy attire we all are wearing, this has to be something very important or something just to be yourself away from the public eye and trying to make the place free from people?”

I was sitting between the pair and could see them looking at each other. I almost wanted to say I could see a faint hint of green and red between the two of them, but I wasn't going to question yet. “Well, I would've explained that when you went to sleep tonight but giving how I've been with you pratcailly all day, you won't see me tonight, since you have to meet someone new to keep you on your toes. Me and felix have been too friendly with you, something out leader isn't too fond of thnking that we're favoring you and not giving you a fairchance. That being said the place that we're going to tonight is more of a close friend of ours, well a close group. They can tell you more then we can if they choose to, but always keep this in mind. If you see their captain, and trust me they make it well known who that is, but be careful of them. The two leaders are more resevered then the others are.” I titled my head while felix explained all of this to me. It was more of an eye opener and a reminder, I'm not a human anymore and there will be poeple that I run into that could either make my experience duriong this and some that could make me regret ever being here. Something I never thought to consider.

I have been more friendly and close with these two simply because Felix lives closer to me, and hyunjin seems to be more social and local in the places I tend to visit. I have 5 more people to meet, with one of them seemingly being the one who can either make a choice go through or put a stop to it quicker then any of us could blink with a snap of his finger. “You won't like the later part of this event, something we al started to think about later beacuse at the end of it, you'll begin to see more demons and such and what some of us do, speak out about it if you choose to but rememebr this. Me and Felix can only do so much, if we get told no by those stronger then us and there's only one, there is nothing we can do to save you. And you won't like us for a while because of it.”

If I could leave the car I would, because Hyunjin made his eyes glow this mixture of pink and a dark purple while seeminly enjoying the fact that I was confused and slowly putting things together that I don't have much control over what happens. I was so caught up in being treated like nothing was different and not experiencing anything different from what I'm used to that the now reality that the places I could go won't have humans anymore and if I'm not careful something drastic could happen and there is very little some could do. I was staring at Hyunjin but felix seemed to keep his eyes more normal but I could swear I saw the undertone green at the bottom of his eyes. It was something some would have to pay very close attetnion to in order to notice it. But it overall seemed something for them to enjoy, makes sense as to why we're dressed up so fancy for it as well. And why we had to be so far away from people. “What happens at these events?” “Can't tell you that, it would ruin the fun of your reaction. Don't worry, you won't be phycailly hurt, but you will hate us for the next oh..couple days?”

We got to the place, stopping at the entrance where there were other luxury cars stopped in the large circle driveway that had those large water fountains in the middle. “Do try to remember, everything we've done was genuine, love.”

[innorogers]

Veil

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Every inch of him missed you, his skin aching for the warmth of your touch, his mind desperate for the sound of your voice, the light in your eyes. 

Warning: Desperate Steve /Protective Steve / Steve in despair

Characters: OC, John Walker, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton.

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull | 9: Vigil | 10: Eclipse

John woke up three days after your disappearance, groggy and disoriented, in the ICU. The world he knew was now in chaos. His room was heavily guarded, and the first familiar face he saw was Sam’s, stationed constantly at his door, watching over him in case of another attack and monitoring any communications. 

He wasn’t a normal hospital of course, he was under strict surveillance within the Avengers compound. They’d done everything to save him: used the best medical care, cutting-edge technology, but he wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was anyone else. 

No one was leaving. 

Not until Steve, Hill, Natasha, and every spy loyal to Tony Stark had wrung out every last shred of information, every hidden connection, every detail that could bring them closer to understanding that attack, or finding you. 

Everyone was interrogated, everyone needed to provide a hundred versions of their answers, and they had to match. 

They’d match the lie detector, they’d match the CCTV, they’d match every record, every email, every sentence they’d said and that was captured by Jarvis.They’d match the fucking employee’s survey they filled two years ago. They’d match, otherwise they were facing hours and hours of ruthless, avenger’s style interrogation, led by Natasha, by Clint, by Sharon, and by Hill herself.

Vision and Wanda were busy, they worked tirelessly. 

The mind stone explored its infinite powers: Vision immersed completely in the network, sifting through an endless flow of data: emails, files, surveillance footage, security reports…searching for any inconsistencies or traces that might have been overlooked. 

Every security feed, every encrypted message, every buried piece of information was being drawn to the surface, handed to Jarvis and the team for analysis. 

Wanda’s powers moved through the compound like an unseen force, a red wind that blew around the entire facility, spinning and sorting through the air. Looking for patterns, intuitive insights beyond what the data could reveal, in the hopes to catch something others had missed. 

The barest flick of her fingers were like an instinctive hunter, reaching out to sense any lingering energy from the attack, any psychic residue that might hint at who was behind it.

Both in the search for answers, and for you.

Everyone had been looking, every single resource and agent was deployed, tearing through every lead, every rumor, every fragment of information to try to find you, but there was nothing—no trace, no sign, as if you had vanished into thin air. 

Stark’s resources were being stretched to their edge: satellites repositioned, private networks hacked, and entire cities put under surveillance, but still, they came up empty. 

Every asset, every favor, every underground contact was called in, yet there was only silence. 

A terrible and horrible, empty void, It was as if the entire world had conspired to swallow you whole, leaving the Avengers grasping at shadows in their desperate search.

Steve was on the edge of breaking. 

Days had blurred together, each one gnawing away at his sanity as he ran on scraps of sleep and barely a bite of food, his focus single-minded, unyielding, burning in a sleepless fear.

Half of his time was spent in the command center, his eyes fixed on every screen, every update, driving the team harder, faster, demanding more, obsessing over every detail, driving everyone, including him, insane but yet restless.

The other half he spent in the training room, pushing himself until his body was trembling, his muscles screaming, sweat pouring off him in sheets, and every cell in his body was begging for rest. 

And then, maybe, he could get some sleep, only to wake up in some kind of nightmare with the worst scenes of his imagination.

He needed the pain—it kept him from losing his mind, kept him from the raw, pulsing panic threatening to choke him. He could feel it in every clenched breath, every aching bone: you were out there, alone, and every second he wasn’t by your side was a second he’d never forgive himself for. 

And there was this enormous emotional pain too, an ache so deep it was almost physical. He could hardly bear the emptiness left by your absence; it was like a shadow that followed him everywhere.

He saw you in every corner: at the command center, at the dining table, in the lab, even in the training room that held the precious memory of the day you’d first met.

Every inch of him missed you, his skin aching for the warmth of your touch, his mind desperate for the sound of your voice, the light in your eyes. 

He’d turn around at the hallucinated sound of your steps, the ghostly echo of your voice calling his name, and it was driving him mad, angry, sad, and scared.

He stepped back home just once, hoping, needing, to find some clue, any thread that might lead him closer to you. It was almost unbearable. 

Your scent lingered in the air, filling the place with traces your left behind: mugs you used for breakfast left at the sink, the recipe book open and bookmarked to the page of the meal you were so excited to cook for him, his favorite wine in the fridge ready to open…everything only amplified the pain, the crushing sense that you were just beyond his reach.

And then, when the forensic techs arrived, the room was transformed into a crime scene: every item cataloged, every paper analyzed, every personal belonging scrutinized and stripped of its warmth. Steve could only watch, helpless, as every piece of the life you’d built together was dismantled and laid bare, a reminder that you were gone.

But he wasn’t the only one panicking, overwhelmed by fear and anger. 

Tony and Maria were just as desperate. The breach was massive, and among the thousands of employees within the compound, there was no one, like literally no one, they could fully trust outside of themselves. 

Every project, every ongoing research initiative was paused, and all information was locked down. 

The world wanted intel? Advanced technology to defend itself? Was there any other alien army attacking? Well, it would have to rely on the UN or any other organization out there, because the Avengers were facing something worse than Thanos. This was a breach that had struck straight to their core, hitting the heart of everything they stood for—and they had no idea where it came from or how the fuck to fight back.

The Command Room’s lights stayed on 24/7, no one ever left. 

Even Wakanda joined the investigation, cutting off all outside contact to protect themselves as they worked.

And after King T'Challa himself added his network of intelligence operatives, a hint finally emerged.

It happened 18 days after your disappearance. 

And in these eternal days, to everyone’s horror and surprise, it looked like Steve was…normalizing. Exhaustion and fatigue were evident in him—something that had never, ever happened to Captain America. 

He had a few gray hairs in his beard, and the dark circles under his eyes were plainly visible. It took some serious talks from Sam and Natasha, and a few heated discussions with Tony, to make him eat or sleep and keep him from spiraling into a state of self-destruction.

The news came back from General Okoye herself.

“There was only one…” The general was measuring her words. “Only one suspicious transmission. It was on a hidden frequency; we almost missed it. It was…lost, too short to intercept, but too strange to ignore. Hidden within encrypted channels, and when we got it, it actually took days to decode. Which made it even more suspicious.”

“Where is it leading to?” Steve listened with clenched fists, his gaze sharp, and his heart pounding in his chest.

The general sighed; she was being careful. “Most of the transmission was fragmented, but there was one mention that was unmistakable. It referenced The Void.”

“That…doesn’t exist.” Natasha replied immediately. “The Void has existed for ages and decades in the intel world, but only as a rumor. It’s a legend…like…fictional. It’s just a reference.”

“What’s The Void?” asked Sam.

“It’s a reference.” Natasha emphasized. “An urban legend, talked about over drinks, referring to an old, nearly forgotten facility on the outskirts of a war-torn city, once controlled by a covert organization that operated in the deepest shadows. It’s called that in intelligence circles: The Void, because supposedly no one has ever set foot in it. It’s empty; it’s…shadows and ashes. It isn’t real.”

“Yup. That’s true.” replied Clint. “The Void has been whispered about for years. It’s like…a ghostly facility that never existed on any official maps. It’s said that it was once a stronghold, buried deep in hostile territory. But that’s all…you know, legendary talk.”

“But that was years ago.” Black Widow still wasn’t fully convinced. “I haven’t heard of it in years. No one knows if it’s still standing, if it’s fortified, or even if it still exists.”

“It exists.” Suddenly, a voice interrupted in the room—John’s. 

His voice was hoarse, the cut you’d given him had seriously injured his neck, and he looked somewhat funny with all the bandages around it. His eyes were darkened by heavy circles, and he had to pause before speaking again because his throat was burning.

“I was there three years ago on my first tour. It’s in the Altai Mountains of Kazakhstan. It’s nestled in a ridiculously hidden valley that’s…you know, inaccessible for normal people: extreme weather, uneven terrain. Something that would be impossible to reach for most folks, but probably looks like your training field number three.” He coughed as he talked.

“You sure?” Steve’s eyes narrowed, a glimmer of hope rising behind the exhaustion, but his jaw tightened with worry. He wanted to believe—he needed to believe—that John’s confirmation meant something real, something that could lead him to you. But doubt gnawed at him, a quiet fear lingering just beneath the surface, reminding him that this might still be another dead end. Or worse, it could lead to an end, one he was not ready to bear.

His fists clenched, his voice low and firm as he asked. “Are you certain?”

“Well…” John approached the screens and enlarged the map in front of him, showing it to everyone in the room. He tapped a point on it. 

“Here. We could search for those files in the army from my first tour…” And as he spoke, Tony was already typing on the keyboard.

“But it should be here, look: secluded area, dense forests, jagged cliffs…Can I get a satellite view? Look at these buildings—sparse, abandoned Soviet-era infrastructure…see? And in winter? Dude, the place becomes even more desolate, with heavy snowstorms cutting it off completely from the outside world. Hey, Man in a Can, any chance you can overlay those X-rays or layer scans on the map?” He said, snapping his fingers at Tony.

Tony studied the map a bit longer, and under Steve’s expectant gaze, he frowned and ordered: “Cross-reference geological information with everything in Twelve’s archives. Don’t limit the search to her data only—look into her siblings, check the Winter Soldier’s files…Jarvis, search back and forth across 80 years of data.”

Bruce added, “Any chance we can get an energy scan below the surface? Whatever they’re developing, I don’t think it’s just there for a tour visit.”

Jarvis took less than a minute to complete the analysis.

“Sir, according to information found in files M001, M002, LocM001-X025-T29, and LocM001-X025-T31, test results were located in the indicated area.”

“M001 and 2?” Steve stood up immediately. 

Those were the first two prototypes. He remembered you mentioning them when you told him your story: the ‘Apollo and Artemis’ siblings, the first successful models. When they began to fail, they created you and the rest of you.

“Run the analysis as we move.” Steve said, his fists tight and his eyes intense, as if he could see The Void itself before him. This was the first real lead they’d had, and the mystery of ghost town that didn’t even exist, added an unsettling layer—no one knew what they’d be facing. 

But he didn’t give a fuck, even if it was hell itself, he would go to the deepest end of the abyss if that’s what it took to find you.

“Gear up. Moving out in 10.” He ordered, and as everyone started to move, he stopped Tony. “You stay here with Vis.” His expression was unwavering. “We need to keep the fort secure, safe. I need it cleaned when I’m back with her.”

Tony wanted to say something. He didn’t want to encourage Steve to pursue a ghost idea, but he just couldn’t muster a word. He patted Captain’s shoulder heavily and nodded.

“You sure?” Tony knew Steve was desperate, but he was also anxious, fearing Steve’s hopes might be raised, only to face the worst later. Tony brushed his hair back nervously. “Take Banner with you, then.”

“I’m sure.” For the first time in 18 days, Steve’s eyes held a glimmer of hope. “Vis and Wanda stay; I need the compound secure. Make them scan every last corner before we set foot out there.”

“Look,” Tony added solemnly, unable to help himself. He had to speak up. “It could be abandoned…or it could be more fortified than ever. We’ll need caution—and the element of surprise. If they suspect our arrival, they might vanish again…taking her with them.” 

Or maybe she is already there, in a state that no one wants to think about. He thought to himself, not daring to make a comment about it.

“I know.” Steve’s gaze hardened as he looked around the room. Whether it was a ruin or a fortress, he would face whatever waited in The Void. He was ready to tear through every wall, every shadow, if it meant finding you.

“Ok.” Tony inhaled and forced a smile. “We’ll be ok.” His eyes fixed on Steve. 

“We’ll be ok.” He repeated it, but he didn’t know who he was talking to—Steve or himself.

Steve didn’t say anything; he just nodded.

The Quinjet took flight in less than 10 minutes, with another ship following close behind. The team was geared up, and they weren’t going alone—the Strategic Operations Unit followed, fully armed with the latest tech, while Maria Hill and Tony Stark directed the operation from the Command Room. 

The Unit was composed of the best military and special forces personnel: soldiers who had once served with S.H.I.E.L.D. or in elite units from around the world. They were humans who came just after the Avengers in strength and capability. And they were excited, determined. The Void was a legendary place, and they were eager to explore it. 

Or tear it apart and burn it down to ashes and dirt if that’s what the Captain commands.

Steve sat in the back of the Quinjet, his mind a whirlwind. 

There was an urge burning inside him, consuming him like wildfire: the desperate need to know that you were okay, that you were safe. 

But alongside that, there was the crushing weight of the entire situation, the analysis you, Bruce, and Tony had pieced together days ago: Who took you? What dark, powerful organization had stolen you away? And what were they trying to achieve? Bruce had said they were close. That you were the missing piece in completing something monumental, something so massive it could render the enemy fearless, powerful enough not to fear the wrath of the Avengers anymore. 

And that…was terrifying.

After defeating Thanos, the combined forces of the Avengers and Wakanda had been enough to prove to the world that they alone held the power to defend Earth. 

But were they? Enough?

Because after all, power isn't just about brute strength or advanced technology; it is about control, strategy, and deception. The Avengers had faced gods, aliens, and everything the world had thrown at them, but this felt different. 

This wasn’t a threat that announced itself with an army or a cosmic weapon. This was something calculated, something buried in shadows, pulling strings in the dark. And if there was one thing the Avengers weren’t particularly skilled at: navigating schemes or playing diplomatic and political games.

It was the kind of threat that could allow an organization to infiltrate so deeply, take one of their own without leaving a trace, and expose the Avengers as far less untouchable than the world believed.

And he, Steve Rogers, wasn’t as indestructible as he thought. 

He had a weakness now, something that could shatter him entirely in the blink of an eye: You.

“Landing in four.” Sam announced from the pilot seat as the Quinjet began its descent, breaking through layers of dense clouds. 

The scenery below unfolded like a haunting portrait. 

It was exactly as John had described: hidden valleys carved from jagged rocks, hollowed mountains looming like forgotten sentinels, and a decaying forest cloaked in a heavy shroud of fog. Surrounded by high cliffs and dead ends mountains, almost impossible for common people to access. (And it was actually, looking really similar to Training Field 003 where the simulator portrayed a similar landscape.)

Everything seemed drained of life, abandoned, lost in time, cast in muted shades of gray and black, as if the place itself had given up—and every living thing within it too.

The streams of fog wove through the dried and skeletal trees, clinging to the ground like ghosts. Crumbling remnants of abandoned structures dotted the landscape: cracked walls and rusted metal consumed by time. 

A biting chill seemed to seep through the Quinjet’s walls as they neared the ground. It felt as if they could be swallowed into this endless forgotten state, taken by the invisible hands of the oppressive atmosphere.

“Yeah, this really looks like…a ‘The Void’.” said Clint, stepping out of the Jet. “Whoever put the name definitely hit on the spot.”

Sam raised his eyebrow. “What are we, like in…Silent Hill?”

“Shush.” said Natasha. “The element of surprise is our only ally now. Any leads?” She pressed the comms. The complete team was on the other side, watching everything from the Command Room, scanning beyond their sight.

“Move forward.” Maria ordered. “Buildings at your twelve. I want complete silence. Team Alpha, take the right; Beta, take the left. Steve, you lead.”

“Got it.” Steve nodded. He noticed in the distance, nestled deep within the valley, an unnatural symmetry: rows of long-forgotten buildings that didn’t belong to nature’s chaos. It was subtle, almost hidden by the fog, but it was enough. 

His jaw tightened. 

This was the place.

“Gear up, and move.” He said, his voice low and steady, though his grip on the rail betrayed the tension surging through him. “We’re not leaving without answers.”

The team moved swiftly, like shadows. The jagged rocks and crumbling buildings provided perfect cover as they advanced, their movements silent, steps as light as feathers.

“Scan.” Steve ordered, his voice low but firm as he led the team deeper into the abandoned structures. 

“What are we seeing? Or not seeing?” He pressed the comms, his gaze scanning the area with sharp precision.

Jarvis’s voice filtered into their earpieces. “Sir, a series of passages leading beneath the surface.”

“That’s a surprise.” Natasha chuckled. Typical. 

“Looks like an underground stronghold.” Maria informed the team: “Seems like a water fortress. A helm, maybe? Dried out and abandoned.”

Steve’s jaw tightened as he glanced at the rest of the team. 

“Let’s move.” He ordered. 

The air seemed heavier as they pressed forward, entering what had once been the heart of the fortress. Everything around went stale and damp as they descended, the passage’s walls bearing cracks, rust, and faint traces of water lines that hinted at what the place had been before it fell into decay.

The deeper they went, the darker it became, the dim light from their gear casting eerie shadows across the ancient stone and metal. 

It was a place that felt hollow, lifeless, but beneath the stillness, there was an unnerving sense of something waiting. 

Steve raised his fist to signal a stop, and the rest of the team felt it too: they weren’t alone. There was a slight, almost undetectable sound in the thick air that ran through the place, something that only elite soldiers with hundreds of battles' worth of experience would recognize: someone was breathing around them.

“Sam.” Steve muttered, and the Falcon’s glasses started a laser scan around the place.

But before the results even came in, John, who was next to Sam, put a hand on his arm and lowered it.

“I don’t think we need that.” Walker said, barely above a whisper. When Sam removed his glasses, he saw it too, along with the rest of the team.

Eyes.

Lines and lines of people surrounded them, staring back at them with lifeless, empty gazes.

"Holy shit." said Sam and John at the same time.

“Attack from the nerds 2.0?” John grimaced. 

“Stay sharp. Circle formation,” Steve ordered, clenching his fists around his shield. “Give me your best, and give them your worst. Got it?”

The eerie look on the enemy sent a cold shiver through everyone’s back. The team stayed silent for a moment, but when Steve’s commands dropped, they responded in unison with a roar.

The stillness shattered in an instant as the first wave of attackers surged forward.

“Engage!” Steve roared, his shield flying through the air and slamming into the nearest enemy with a thunderous crack before returning to his arm. 

“Okay, to the dancefloor!” To his left, Sam launched into the air, his wings spreading wide as he maneuvered above the chaos. His goggles highlighted the attackers’ positions. “Commander, give me the source path. Where are these guys coming from?”

“Scanning…” Maria’s commands came through as Jarvis synchronized the analysis. Tony’s helmet illuminated as he synced all the data to the team’s gear.

“There’s some kind of base at your two o’clock, Sam,” Tony said as the heat map displayed the information. “Extremely low temperatures… Shit, what are you guys even fighting?” His expression darkened as the heat analysis became clearer.

“Gonna be hard to reach that two o’clock! They’re everywhere!” Sam shouted, firing his wing-mounted machine guns to clear a path below. One of the enemies leaped toward him, but Natasha’s knee struck first. She was a blur of lethal grace as she slipped between attackers.

“Wow, new toy?” Sam asked, spotting Natasha’s twin batons crackling with electricity as she took down two enemies at a time with each sweep.

“Keep moving! Don’t let them pin us down!” She called, her voice calm but sharp as she dodged an incoming strike and slammed her baton into an enemy’s temple. “Could use some help opening the line to two o’clock here!”

A chuckle came through the comms as Hawkeye stood back for a moment, his bowstring taut, stretched to its maximum capacity as he aimed for the target. The string was charged with an electrifying blue blast.

“Bruce?” Clint muttered as he loosed his fingers, sending an explosive-tipped arrow into the crowd ahead of the Hulk.

The blast tore through like a comet, breaking multiple enemy lines and clearing space. The Hulk charged through with a roar that shook the ground. He swung his massive fists in wide arcs, scattering attackers like leaves in a storm.

“Move!” commanded Natasha, leading the rest of the operations team as they tightened their formation, trying to push through and make it to the source.

Above them, Sam spotted reinforcements swarming in from the cliffs. “Guys, more incoming from the ridge!”

“More?!” John fought alongside Steve, his shield clashing against the attackers with raw force. “What do you mean, more? What is this? Like an army?!” he shouted, slamming his shield into one enemy before spinning and knocking another to the ground with a powerful kick.

“These are not regular soldiers,” said Maria through the comms, watching the live data analysis with a mix of nervousness and horror.

“No shit, really?” John replied. “Is like fighting an army of your finest tactical teams. I don’t think you see this on an everyday basis.”

“They just keep coming!” Steve replied, his voice strained as he deflected a strike aimed at his head and countered with a devastating blow to the chest of his attacker. “Tony, we need to know what’s at that source!”

“One sec.” Tony replied, commanding the screen with furious speed as he analyzed the scans. “Shit, I could really use your girlfriend’s powers right now. What the hell is in there? Something really powerful is blocking my signs.” He muttered while typing, overriding thousands of codes. “Commander, I think we’ve found what the lens from Steve’s fake brother-in-law was leading us to…”

“Okay, Jarvis, get me Robert Lin. NOW.” Tony ordered, his voice sharp as he broke through more passcodes. “I need him to reproduce that same cringy sound that woke my tech team from their Walking Dead state. And Steve, don’t try breaking through the entire World War Z wall… just send Sam over. I’ll have the command ready; he just needs to plug in.”

“You heard that?” Steve asked Sam as he slammed his shield into another enemy. Seeing the Falcon take flight toward the destination, Steve commanded with unwavering determination, “We push through. Everyone fights, no one falls.”

“Bruce, block them!” Steve shouted.

Bruce growled in response, grabbing a massive boulder and hurling it into the gap between the team and the incoming wave, creating a temporary barrier. 

But the moment the rock landed, a sharp white light sliced it clean in half, the massive stone splitting as if it were paper.

As the dust and debris settled, a figure stormed into the battle, moving faster than the eye could follow, a cold blade weaving through the air in deadly arcs.

“Watch it!” John shouted, raising his shield for the first strike. 

A muted sound echoed as the blade clashed against the shield, sending a shockwave that threw everyone nearby to the ground. John hit the ground hard, his arms numb and nearly unable to hold his shield.

“Shit…” he muttered through clenched teeth as he struggled to stand, but his face went pale when he saw you. Standing there, your eyes were cold, unrecognizable—hollow and devoid of emotion.

“Um… Steve?” John muttered as you spun the blade with an elegant yet deadly precision.

“Step back.” Steve replied, his voice thick with pain and fear he could barely suppress. 

“I’ve got this.” His gaze met yours, and in that moment, his heart broke.

The End but TBC.

Oh this was a stressfull but fun one to write, sorry for being late in posting, but lately seems my stress levels are on their highest. The story will continue but I'm maybe one or two days of delaying on posting, but still will try my best to continue posting on fridays ✨ Thank you all for the lovely posts and messages you've sent last week when I was having a breakdown, this community is just magical, I'll continue writing and try my best to have the best stories! (BTW I just love fighting scenes, they are so fun to write, and I love these groups interactions) 💓 See you next week!

Love., Moon.࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

let me know if you want to be added! 🥰

[sinsolstice]

★ 彡 MEETING MIGUEL'S VARIANT. ✧ MIGUEL O'HARA

⋆𐙚₊˚ premise: meeting miguel's variant of earth 2401. ⋆𐙚₊˚ tags: within the spiderverse universe. afab reader + variant miguel. ⋆𐙚₊˚ wc: 424

this miguel variant is from peachy's drawing of her miguel spidersona (definitely one of the artists that i admire a lot).

It happened so fast. One moment, you’re fighting off an anomaly in your assigned universe for a mission. And the next, you’re thrown across the fabric of time into a different world again.

Your back hits the bricked wall and you fall onto the ground with a thud. It hurts and you groan but still have the energy to get up and fight. Your body aches and your head is spinning, but you have a job to do. To protect the multiverse.

That is, until you hear the anomaly that you’re fighting, let out a cry of pain. You merely stand up on your two feet when you feel your spidey senses tingle. It’s not from danger but something else entirely. When you run towards the noise source where you think your enemy is, you find the anomaly tied in webs and hanging in the middle of the warehouse. 

The anomaly is tied in a spider’s webs and it makes sense of your intuition earlier. There’s another spider-hero variant other than you in this universe. 

“You need to be careful in the future if your enemy discovers that you can travel through time-space easily.” A voice says. “It would cause more problems in the future, no?” 

“I– thank you,” you say breathily. “He came out of nowhere. I didn’t mean for the anomaly to escape.” 

“It’s not a problem. Mistakes happened.” The man says. The moment he turns around to face you—to reveal himself—your eyes widen in disbelief. Other than the fact that you’re gawking because of his shirtless state, this man in front of you looks familiar. But it’s not the man you know. 

The full body muscular, eight-pack abs and huge biceps. The tattoos on his body; one on his left arm, right shoulder and the side back of his neck. A full Spider tattoo on the left, a covered shoulder tattoo on the right, and a large cross on his neck. He still has the same dark brown hair, but it’s a little messy and you spot a silver streak on the front. There’s a slit on his left brow, giving him that devilish look, with two silver hoop earrings.  

The red eyes of the man staring at you are exactly the same eyes of a man you know. But he’s not completely the man you know. And you didn’t think you find a version of him from this universe. “Miguel?” 

“You know me? Well, that makes it easier for me to skip the introductions then,” he smirks. “I am this dimension’s Spider-Man. What are you doing here, nena?” 

[lovelyshu]

I ONLY TALK TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND ME — with Minho

001 DESCRIPTION — how minho deals with a crying teenager he cares about

002 TAGS — all platonic, gn reader, use of yn like once, very fluffy, a tiny bit of angst if you squint (reader doesn't trust parents with problems or anyone else tbh + like lots of crying), very self indulgent

003 COMMENTS — what does crying at least once a week in the middle of the night does to a person? It gives them ✨ideas✨. Also this was inspired by my brother even if I never told him much. He was the only person I allowed to see me cry.

004 TAGGING — @hannamoon143 @jisunggy

Minho doesn't remember exactly when did he got so close to you. And to be honest, neither did you.

But now you were someone very important to him, going as far as calling you his little sibling.

And that's also one of the reasons he accepted when you asked to sleep on his house that night.

The other reason being that he knew you weren't feeling so good these days. Even if you tried to hide it, your obvious reactions to which no one seemed to notice or care gave it away.

Well, that didn't mean he was expecting to her crying in the middle of the night.

It was 1:35 am. And Minho had no idea on to why were you still awake. He was still feeling sleepy and tired, but as soon as he heard the sob coming from the other room, his mind put to the side any sleepiness in his body.

Slowly, he walked to your room, standing right outside your door. Minho thought about knocking on it, but you would probably just ignore.

So that's why he just - slowly - opened it, to which made you freeze, trying to pretend to be asleep.

“yn? Are you alright?”

No response.

Sighing, he walked closer to you after closing the door, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Minho knew you had trouble with opening up to other people, even sympathizing with the feeling. Knowing that, he put a hand over your head, patting it softly.

“If there's anything bothering you, I'm more than happy to help you. You don't need to bottle up everything.”

As you stayed in silence, he continued.

“And I can also just listen, if you'd like. I won't tell anyone about this, unless you ask me to.”

The silence continued for a short moment, until he heard you speak, voice cracking slightly. A clear sign you were indeed crying.

“Not even my parents?”

“No. If you don't want them to know, I won't tell them.”

You slowly turned to face him, sitting up. Minho seeing this slowly puts your head on his shoulder, letting you take your time with talking.

“Minho... I'm sorry..”

“What are you sorry for?” - he spoke in such a soft and calm tone that made you get even more emotional than you were.

Trying to find the right words, more tears begun to found their way to your eyes as you tried your best to not let them fall.

“For everything. I'm a failure, I can't do anything right, my parents are alright but it seems like I can never make them proud. The only thing I give them is shame.”

Minho moved you a bit, enough so that you could hide your face on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Sometimes I just want to disappear.. I always ask myself if anyone would even care if I did...”

Hearing your words made Minho hug you tightly, mumbling in such a low voice that you might've missed if it wasn't for the silence.

“You're not a failure. If anything, you are the most talented and intelligent person I've ever met.”

Minho sighed as he noticed that you were crying even more, knowing those words might mean something way too big for your own heart to bear.

“And you don't even see it. If you ever disappeared, I'd go all around the world to find you.”

Slowly, he laid you down again, but now, laying down as well, still holding you.

After some long minutes, Minho noticed you were drifting off to sleep, which somehow, got him in peace enough to do the same.

Not until he whispered again.

“You're not alone. Don't forget that.”

Was the last thing you heard before closing your eyes, comfortably sleeping while cuddling no one other than Minho himself.

[magnoliapromenadegalleria]

Just to add my two Abraham L's, Kant and Bison's age gap isn't even that wild considering one is in his mid-20s and the other is in his late 20s. That's pretty normal. Kant being married in the past isn't a big deal either. I know a lot of these shows frame their stories in a way where one or both the lead characters are as pure as untouched snow, but that's just not realistic for these two characters. Let's allow characters to have pasts. And another thing

And I'm going to hold your hand when I say this

If this type of show is not for you, I kindly ask that you please refrain from hate watching. Even if you want to support the actors, just. Please. Don't. Or, if you do, please keep your comments to yourself and your trusted friends, and do not make it everyone else's issue in the tags. If you know this isn't your genre, and you prefer something lighter, I urge you to go enjoy that content, because this one right here? This one is for the girls, gays, and theys that like drama. This is for those of us who have had a time or two and late nights of tomfoolery. This is for us who hooked up with that one person and are like??? Me?! This is for us that look at our bills and see what these utility companies came up with this time. This is for us that look at our credit card and bank statements and try to figure out who spent our money when it was us. It was all us. All I'm saying is let us enjoy the show if we think it's good, or criticize it if needed.

Gentle reminder that P'Jojo and writer of The Heart Killers Novel both said (in the book expo) that the show is going to be very/quite different from the Novel as the Novel writer only got the framework of the show and wrote her own version of it (which is her right). Events will be different. Characters will be different. Character dynamics will be different. So (if you have already read the Novel translation) please have your expectations cautiously and please do not go after Jojo or the writer when things (inevitably) plays differently in the show. 🙃 This had happened during OF time and frankly it's sad. 😔 Also I'm already seeing this happening for THK as people are surprised/upset about the 5 year age gap between Kant and Bison, Kant being probably married in the past etc....Please know that the writer didn't write the story based on the script. She wrote based on the framework. Best enjoy both the Novel and the show as separate entities. Double fun for us that way 🥰😇

[densewentz]

My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing You cut me open and I Keep bleeding love

Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis is a Dreamling song fight me about it. Day 14 (candygore, kinda) and Day 15 (Song Lyrics)

HQ Jpeg under cut bc no matter what I did this gif came out crunchy

[graveposting]

me when

me hwhen the------

the brainworms-